[Fic: Hockey RPS] Love Story for the New Age; Steve Downie/Steven Stamkos; NC-17
I don't even know what happened here. This is like 80-85% porn. Like I said, I don't even know anymore. For boltschick2612, because she likes to enable me and listen to me babble incessantly. ♥ you! ♥. Takes place immediately after her fic: I Call Shotgun!
Disclaimer: False. Title and summary from the Lana Del Rey song National Anthem
Love Story for the New Age
Steve Downie/Steven Stamkos; NC-17
Red, white, blue's in the skies,/ Summer's in the air and baby,/ Heaven's in your eyes.
Warnings: dirty talk, rimming, fingering, barebacking, comeplay
Love Story for the New Age
Steven never bothered to tell Steve this, seeing as how it was never a problem before, but he's quite sure after his rather poor attempt at backing the Fisker out of his driveway that it speaks for itself.
"Dude," Steve started, trying his best to mask his amusement as the Fisker stalls, and Steven swears under his breath. "You really have no idea how to drive manual do you?"
Steven lets out a string of curse words as the Fisker lurches forward a few feet before it very nearly stalls out again. "Shut it, Downs," he growls, and huffs as he finally manages to slide the gear shift into an appropriate gear.
Steve tries very hard not to burst into gales of laughter at Steven's flustered appearance, as he reclines in the seat. The leather is soft, and smooth against the skin of his back. The sunlight beats down on his hair, and tickles the fine hairs on his arms. He did have to give Steven credit, though. He did have good taste in cars.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steven's brow furrow in concentration as he manages to merge into traffic. Steve bites his lip, trying to look like he sympathized with Steven's plight. Instead, he could feel his lip twitching as he tried to contain the laughter threatening to make its way out of his mouth.
Steven punches his shoulder. Not all that hard, but enough to cause Steve to yelp in mock pain.
"Fucker," Steven mutters, as he manages to shift gears without causing the car to jerk.
"You wound me," Steve mumbles.
Steven glances over at Steve briefly, and smiles widely. "I think you'll survive, Downs."
"Not if you keep driving the way you do."
"Hey!" Steven says, affronted. He swears when the car comes close to stalling, yet again.
Steve laughs. "You were saying? Seriously, blondie, only you would buy a car you didn't know how to drive."
Steven's lips were pressed into a thin line as he navigated the Fisker towards the freeway entrance. "Shut it, Downs."
The Fisker was a beautiful car, Steve was willing to admit, as he watched Steven get the car onto the freeway. The freeway stretches for what seems like miles, and Steven seems to be doing a fairly decent job at keeping up with traffic. They hit a patch of the freeway where it's fairly deserted, and Steve watches as Steven fiddles with the gear shift.The engine purred softly, and hugged the asphalt as Steven shifts the car into sixth.
"Let's see if you have any more cracks about my driving now," Steven growls, as the car leaps forward, moving over the asphalt like silk against skin.
Okay, Steven had impeccable taste in cars.
Steve relaxes in his seat a tad, seeing as how Steven's handling of the gear shift seemed to have improved slightly. He shifts slightly in his seat, the sun beating down on his bare chest. He yawns, and glances over when he feels Steven put a hand on his knee.
"Speechless, I see," Steven says, grinning widely.
"Oh, fuck off." Steven could be such a little shit when he wanted to be.
Steven trails a finger up Steve's knee, and laughs as he quickly pulls his hand away.
Steve rolls his eyes dramatically, and turns his attention to watching the road. Anything to draw his attention away from just how hot Steven looks behind the wheel of the Fisker.
Eventually, Steven has to slow down, and shift gears, as traffic has started to pick up again. Steven steers the car towards the next exit, and manages to accomplish this without causing irreparable damage to the engine.
Steven beams proudly at Steve once they're off the freeway. "You were saying about my driving?"
Steve rolls his eyes, and bursts out laughing as Steven forgets to shift gears and the car sputters. "You were saying?"
"Oh, shut up, Downs. I haven't had to drive stick since I was sixteen!" Steven huffs.
"It shows." Steve places his hand on Steven's thigh, and smirks as Steven jumps slightly at the contact. He immediately regrets it as the Fisker almost stalls again.
"I thought I did all right on the freeway!" Steven sounds mildly indignant. "You weren't complain -" his voice trails off as he feels Steve's hand moving past his knee.
Steve smirks as he palms the crotch of Steven's jeans. "Trust me, when I say this, Stammer, your skills at handling a stick, suck."
"I can't handle a stick? Refresh my memory, how many goals did I score this past season?"
Steve rubs hard over Steven's dick through his jeans. "We weren't talking about your goals, blondie."
Steven nibbles on his bottom lip as he tries to pay attention to shifting gears, driving, and not making a mess in his jeans. "Steve, what are you -"
"Eyes on the road, Stammer." Steven hears his belt click and the zipper on his jeans being lowered, as he tries to do as instructed.
"Easy for you to say," he manages to get out as Steve's hand slips into his jeans.
Steve chuckles. "I'm merely testing your ability to focus."
"My focus is fine!" Steve says through gritted teeth. "Oh, fuck, Downs, keep doing that."
Surprisingly enough, Steven manages to keep his attention focused on the road, and shifting gears. That is, until Steve does something absolutely maddening with his thumb to the head of Steven's cock. Steven's foot stumbles on the clutch, and he grabs Steve's wrist, his thumb running over the pulse point. "Fuck. If you keep doing that, I'll -"
"Can't have that," Steve whispers, jacking Steven once more for emphasis, before he withdraws his hand.
"You're such a cock," Steven says, voice low and predatory.
"I'm flattered you care so much," Steve says, leaning towards Steven, and nipping at his earlobe.
Steven's lips are pressed in a thin line as he tries to come up with a more eloquent response besides 'fuck off', or 'shut up'. He fails and utters another sentence full of expletives as the car stalls.
Steve, because he's an asshole, is almost doubled over in laughter, and Steven weakly punches his shoulder again, before his hand works the gear shift.
"Oh, blow me, Downs," Steven growls as he turns right onto a quieter section of road.
Steve shrugs, moves the hand still resting on Steven's thigh slightly upwards. "Okay."
"Seriously?" Steven asks, looking over at Steve.
Steve grabs for the wheel to avoid hitting the curb. "Geez, Stammer, eyes on the road."
"No, are you being serious? 'Cause I was joking."
The smile on Steve's face grows wider at the expression Steven currently has. "I'm as serious as a heart attack, blondie."
"How? I mean, what? I, Christ, now?" Steven was torn between watching the road, and staring at Steve.
Steve leaned forward, gripping the wheel as he forced the car away from hitting the curb. "Yes, Steven. Now, c'mon, pull over, and you'll see just how serious I am."
Steven seemed lost in thought as they continue down the street. Finally, Steven navigates the Fisker down a small street.
They stop in a fairly deserted car park, and Steven cuts the engine. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a warm puff of air hit his ear.
"Easy, kitten," Steve whispers, voice low and gravelly. He chuckles as he watches the red spread from Steven's neck up to his cheeks. "Y'know you don't have to be nervous." He reached down with his hand, and Steven inhaled sharply, half-expecting Steve to touch him again. Instead, Steve unbuckles Steven's seatbelt, brushing his lips against Steven's temple.
"Fuck it," Steven says, before he grabs Steve by the back of his neck, pulling Steve's face towards his "I'll show you nervous," Steven growls, and kisses him roughly.
Steve lets out a surprised, but amused groan as their lips collide. He hears Steven scrambling to get around the gearshift, before his palms press against his shoulders. Steve's fingers curl around Steven's hips, the soft cotton of his shirt rubs against his slightly calloused palms. He sneaks a hand under the waistband of Steven's jeans, and squeezes his ass, smirking under Steven's lips as Steven lets out a whimper and grinds against him. It isn't long before Steven is straddling Steve, the rough denim of his jeans creating a delicious friction against Steve's flimsy shorts.
"Jesus shit," Steven gasps out, his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans.
Steve has his hands tangled in Steven's hair, as he looked up at him. And, god, if seeing Steven flushed, and practically panting with need wasn't the hottest possible image Steve could conjure, he didn't know what was. Steven looked slightly flustered as Steve just stared at him. He cupped Steven through his jeans, stroking the outline of his rigid flesh, watching as Steven bit his bottom lip and ground against his hand.
"Fucking hell, Downs."
"I don't think the front seat's built for this," Steve mumbles, teeth nipping at the hollow in the base of Steven's throat.
"Then the backseat it is," Steven gasps, voice all fucked up.
"After you," Steve says, winking at Steven.
It earns him a glare, and a smack to his shoulder, before Steven is opening the door and scrambling out of the car.
Steven tries to push on Steve's torso, in an effort to get him into the back, but Steve is too quick. He grins, and the next thing Steven realizes, he's on his back, the console digging into his spine.
"You're such an ass," he hisses.
"Speaking of asses," Steve starts, "you've got a great one." He shuts the door behind him, shifting slightly on the seat, before he's pressing between Steven's legs, his mouth nipping and sucking at Steven's earlobes. He squeezes Steven's ass for good measure, which earns him a moan from Steven, and a scrambling of his hands along his back.
"Fucking hell." Steven grits his teeth, and leans his head back, exposing the pale skin of his neck to Steve's wandering mouth. He gasps as he feels Steve's teeth graze his jugular. "Downs, fuck … Jesus shit, what the … fucking hell -"
Steve is biting and sucking Steven's neck, his hand tangling in Steven's blond locks, pulling his head further back, exposing more of his neck. "I really should make you pay for tying me up earlier." He licks a long line along Steven's neck, the tip dipping into the hollow of Steven's throat.
"Oh, shit," Steven whimpers. "Come on, Downie, just get on with it. Stop being a fucking tease."
"You know damn well, you like it," Steve says, biting down a tad harder on Steven's neck. He smirks against his shoulder as Steven's hips buck. "I'm the only one who knows how you like it."
"Says you," Steven goads.
Steve sits back slightly, eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?"
"Really," Steven challenges. He takes Steve's momentary distraction to rub his palm over his dick, and smirks as Steve inhales sharply.
"So, who else have you been fooling around with in the backseat of a car?" Steve demands, pretending to look hurt.
"Hey!" Steven starts, "you've got Landeskog to make eyes at."
Steve laughs, running his fingers through Steven's hair, before his finger is trailing across Steven's jaw. "Oh, kitten, are you jealous?"
Steven laughs, mock affronted. "Of Captain pretty boy?" he scoffs. "Give me a break."
"Mm," Steve says, "that brings up plenty of delicious possibilities." He tugs on Steven's hair, earning him a whispered plea, as he leans in, and whispers against the shell of Steven's ear, "Don't worry, Steven, I intend to break you."
"Oh, please, Downs, please. That's what I want. Please."
Steve smirks up at Steven, his dark eyes mischievous and challenging as he tugs on Steven's jeans, sliding them down and off, tossing them aside. He gets Steven's boxers past his hips, and oh fuck, Steven's already hard.
"Motherfucking fuck," Steven mutters, teeth scraping over his wrist as he feels Steve's breath as it hits his cock. Steve runs his palm across the head of Steven's cock, eyes watching Steven intently. Steven feels his cock twitch, and he resists the urge to shove his hands in Steve's hair and force his cock into his mouth.
Steve chuckles. "If you think I'm just going to suck you off, kitten, you've got another thing coming."
Steve moves Steven's legs apart, and Steven groans, muttering incoherently as he watches Steve's head dip down. He feels as Steve licks a long line past his cock, past his balls, to the curve of his ass.
"Oh, fuck," Steven exclaims, eyes going wide when he realizes what Steve has in mind. He groans shamelessly when he feels Steve's tongue sink into him, licking at the sides of his opening in long, languid strokes.
"Jesus fuck, Steve," Steven manages to get out. "Oh … fucking shit … goddamn … Steve …"
"You like that, hm?" Steve whispers, wriggling his tongue deeper, hands running up Steven's thighs, before they move to cup his ass, and spreading his legs wider. He exhales loudly, his hot breath tickling Steven's insides. "Fuck, Steven, you're so tight." He withdraws his tongue slowly, licking it against Steven's edges, as he pushes down on Steven's hips to halt his movements.
"Oh, shit, yes, I fucking … fuck, Steve, your tongue feels so fucking good."
"Really?" Steve asks, and because he's an asshole like that, he pulls back slightly, eyes dark in arousal. He exhales softly, his breath caught between Steven's cheeks makes Steven shudder, and wriggle his hips.
"Why the fuck did you stop? Come the fuck on, Steve, I didn't say you could stop …"
"Who says I take orders from you, blondie?" Steve teases, biting at the skin of Steven's upper thigh. Steven's thighs clench at this action.
"Fuck, Steve … stop being a fucking teas -"
"Are you going to say it?"
"Say what? Jesus Christ, Steve, this isn't some fucking game."
Steve flicks his tongue across the head of Steven's cock, the taste of Steven melts on his tongue like a sugar cube. Steven whimpers, bites on the skin of his wrist.
He sighs, licking a long stripe along Steven's thigh. "Apparently, I didn't try hard enough that time ..."
Steven watches as the crown of Steve's head disappears, and he jumps as he feels Steve's tongue pressing into him again. He can't help it, he grips Steve's hair so tightly his knuckles hurt.
"You're going to be so broken by the time I'm finished with you, Steven," Steve promises, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of Steven's thighs. "You are going to be so undone …"
"Oh, shit, Steve, that's what I want. Please. Fuck …" Steven tugs on Steve's hair, his grip white-knuckled.
Steve's tongue slips inside Steven once again, as one of his hands comes up Steven's body, until his index and middle finger make contact with Steven's lips. Steven glares down at Steve as he sucks them into his mouth in a hot, wet, drawing pull.
Steve is so violently hard at that action, he grinds his hips down into the leather seat, just to relish in the friction it creates.
"Shit, Steven, that looks so fucking hot," he murmurs. "You like sucking on my fingers? You wish it was my cock instead, hm?"
Before Steven can get any words out, Steve pulls back from Steven, and presses the two slick fingers inside him. He scissors his fingers, as his tongue is probing Steven's opening again.
Steven's groan is mangled, and he arches his back, his grip in Steve's hair still white-knuckled and desperate. His vision goes white for a moment. "Oh, fuck," he chokes out.
Steven's vision has barely returned, before he feels Steve's mouth swallowing his dick in one fell swoop, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks him hard.
Steve can hear the moans from Steven as his fingers continue to fuck him open, while his mouth slides down toward the base of Steven's shaft. Steven lets out a strangled sound, and he tugs harder on Steve's hair.
"Steve, I swear to God, if you keep this up, I'm gonna -"
"Well, we can't have that, can we, kitten?" Steve says. He lets Steven's cock slide from his mouth, a thin, wet line running from Steve's lips to the head of Steven's cock. He slowly lets his fingers slide out of Steven, and Steven whimpers at the loss of contact. He digs his fingers into Steve's arms as he stares up at him, lips swollen and raw, pupils blown - the blue of his irises barely visible - and wide.
Steve tugs on Steven's arm, to get him into a sitting position, before his hands are tugging the shirt Steven is still wearing off. Steven has his leg hooked around Steve's thigh, grinds relentlessly against him, practically sobs with need as the heated skin of his cock rubs against Steve's leg.
"I swear to fucking God, if you stop now, Downs, I'm going to … I swear, I'll die …"
Steve chuckles, tugging on Steven's arm, until Steven finally cottons on, and turns onto his stomach. He swats at Steven's ass. "Oh, kitten, we can't have that … I can't have you dying on me until you say it."
"Say what?"
"That I'm the only one who knows your body better than the back of your hand."
"Oh, fucking shit, Steve, are we still on about that?" Steven's practically sobbing now, knees hitting the console, his cheek pressed against it. "This isn't a game. Come on, Steve, fuck me, please. Please, I'm going out of my mind here."
"I want to hear you say it," Steve whispers, mouth pressed against Steven's ear, as his hand runs down the backs of Steven's thighs.
"Jesus fuck, Steve … have it your way …" Steven chokes out. "You … only you. You're the only one who knows how to fuck me properly … Satisfied, now?" Steven wriggles his ass, and he can't help but smirk as he hears Steve inhale sharply.
"Oh, kitten," Steve whispers, voice gravelly as he presses a kiss between Steven's shoulder blades.
"You can be such a cock," Steven snaps, "and stop calling me kitten."
Steve has to laugh as he grips Steven's hips tightly, and lines himself up at his entrance. It occurs to Steve that they haven't done this without a condom in a long time, then again, it isn't like either of them planned on this happening in the backseat of Steven's brand new car. He doesn't think not having a condom will deter Steven from wanting him to fuck him, so he slowly slides just the head of his cock inside Steven. Steven is already stretched from earlier, so Steve slides right in.
Steven doesn't dare breathe as he feels Steven press his full length in, before he withdraws slowly.
"Motherfucking fuck," Steven gasps, shoving back against Steve, and he bites down on his arm. "Fuck me, harder."
"Something like this?" Steve's voice is raspy as he grips Steven's hips hard, withdrawing almost all the way, before he thrusts forward again, hitting Steven's prostate as he does so. Steven bites his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, and the lights explode around his vision, as he rocks back against Steve.
"Shit, yes, fuck, just like that. Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good."
"Yes," Steve hisses, as he leans over Steven, teeth grazing the skin of Steven's jaw, and neck, before he bites at Steven's shoulder blade. "You fucking love it. You love that I'm fucking you in the backseat of your new car. How I have you bent over the console … how I could probably get you off just like this, without having to touch your cock again. You like knowing no one else gets you off as well as I do, am I right?"
Steven's tongue is licking over Steve's wrist, as he sobs and mutters enough curse words that would have his mother blushing. "Please, Steve … make me … make me fucking come, please."
"Have it your way, kitten," Steve whispers, pounding into him relentlessly, as he finally reaches down to grab hold of Steven's dick.
"Oh, fucking shit, Steve …" Steven's breath was coming in erratic gasps. It sound almost as if Steven was hyperventilating. Before he could position his hand to catch most of Steven's come, Steven shuddered and spilled all over the console.
Steve groaned as the force of Steven's orgasm caused him to clench around him. He gripped Steven's hips so hard, he was sure there would be bruises there in a few hours, as he fisted his clean hand in Steven's hair. "Steven, I'm … gonna … gonna come."
"Oh shit," was all Steven managed to get out, as Steve shuddered, and came. Steve pressed his forehead to Steven's shoulder blades as he swallowed mouthfuls of air.
For a good solid minute or so, there was silence. Steven's breathing was starting to return to normal, and Steve took that as his cue to withdraw. He had his hands on Steven's hips in a steadying grip as he slowly withdrew from his body. There was a thin trail of come that followed, sliding down Steven's thigh.
The next sound Steve heard was Steven swearing as he looked at the console in abject horror. "Don't you dare laugh about this, Downs," Steven said.
"Well, you know the solution to that," Steve murmured, running two fingers through Steven's come, before he brought them up, pressing them against Steven's lips. "Come on, kitten."
Steven glared at Steve, but he did as he was told, and parted his lips slightly, allowing Steve to slip the digits past his lips. After both fingers were cleaned, Steve withdrew them, and smirked.
He watched, eyes smouldering, as Steven swiped his index and middle finger through his come, and brought the fingers up to Steve's mouth. "Quid pro quo, Downs."
After Steven's come was cleaned from the console, Steve grabbed Steven's head, and pulled his mouth to his. Steven relaxed into the kiss, allowing Steve's tongue access to his mouth.
Eventually, they broke apart, Steve nipping at Steven's bottom lip, as he sighed and ran a hand down Steven's back.
The next thing Steve knows, Steven is tugging his clothes back on, and he's climbing into the passenger seat.
"You can drive back," Steven says.
"For real?"
Steven just smirks as Steve climbs into the driver's seat, and starts up the car.
It sounds like a dream. Steve could get used to this, he realizes as he shifts the car into reverse. They aren't on the road for more than a few moments, before he feels Steven's hand travelling up his thigh.
"Turnabout's fair play," Steven whispers, before he leans down.
Steve would have to agree with Steven in that instant.
Disclaimer: False. Title and summary from the Lana Del Rey song National Anthem
Love Story for the New Age
Steve Downie/Steven Stamkos; NC-17
Red, white, blue's in the skies,/ Summer's in the air and baby,/ Heaven's in your eyes.
Warnings: dirty talk, rimming, fingering, barebacking, comeplay
Love Story for the New Age
Steven never bothered to tell Steve this, seeing as how it was never a problem before, but he's quite sure after his rather poor attempt at backing the Fisker out of his driveway that it speaks for itself.
"Dude," Steve started, trying his best to mask his amusement as the Fisker stalls, and Steven swears under his breath. "You really have no idea how to drive manual do you?"
Steven lets out a string of curse words as the Fisker lurches forward a few feet before it very nearly stalls out again. "Shut it, Downs," he growls, and huffs as he finally manages to slide the gear shift into an appropriate gear.
Steve tries very hard not to burst into gales of laughter at Steven's flustered appearance, as he reclines in the seat. The leather is soft, and smooth against the skin of his back. The sunlight beats down on his hair, and tickles the fine hairs on his arms. He did have to give Steven credit, though. He did have good taste in cars.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steven's brow furrow in concentration as he manages to merge into traffic. Steve bites his lip, trying to look like he sympathized with Steven's plight. Instead, he could feel his lip twitching as he tried to contain the laughter threatening to make its way out of his mouth.
Steven punches his shoulder. Not all that hard, but enough to cause Steve to yelp in mock pain.
"Fucker," Steven mutters, as he manages to shift gears without causing the car to jerk.
"You wound me," Steve mumbles.
Steven glances over at Steve briefly, and smiles widely. "I think you'll survive, Downs."
"Not if you keep driving the way you do."
"Hey!" Steven says, affronted. He swears when the car comes close to stalling, yet again.
Steve laughs. "You were saying? Seriously, blondie, only you would buy a car you didn't know how to drive."
Steven's lips were pressed into a thin line as he navigated the Fisker towards the freeway entrance. "Shut it, Downs."
The Fisker was a beautiful car, Steve was willing to admit, as he watched Steven get the car onto the freeway. The freeway stretches for what seems like miles, and Steven seems to be doing a fairly decent job at keeping up with traffic. They hit a patch of the freeway where it's fairly deserted, and Steve watches as Steven fiddles with the gear shift.The engine purred softly, and hugged the asphalt as Steven shifts the car into sixth.
"Let's see if you have any more cracks about my driving now," Steven growls, as the car leaps forward, moving over the asphalt like silk against skin.
Okay, Steven had impeccable taste in cars.
Steve relaxes in his seat a tad, seeing as how Steven's handling of the gear shift seemed to have improved slightly. He shifts slightly in his seat, the sun beating down on his bare chest. He yawns, and glances over when he feels Steven put a hand on his knee.
"Speechless, I see," Steven says, grinning widely.
"Oh, fuck off." Steven could be such a little shit when he wanted to be.
Steven trails a finger up Steve's knee, and laughs as he quickly pulls his hand away.
Steve rolls his eyes dramatically, and turns his attention to watching the road. Anything to draw his attention away from just how hot Steven looks behind the wheel of the Fisker.
Eventually, Steven has to slow down, and shift gears, as traffic has started to pick up again. Steven steers the car towards the next exit, and manages to accomplish this without causing irreparable damage to the engine.
Steven beams proudly at Steve once they're off the freeway. "You were saying about my driving?"
Steve rolls his eyes, and bursts out laughing as Steven forgets to shift gears and the car sputters. "You were saying?"
"Oh, shut up, Downs. I haven't had to drive stick since I was sixteen!" Steven huffs.
"It shows." Steve places his hand on Steven's thigh, and smirks as Steven jumps slightly at the contact. He immediately regrets it as the Fisker almost stalls again.
"I thought I did all right on the freeway!" Steven sounds mildly indignant. "You weren't complain -" his voice trails off as he feels Steve's hand moving past his knee.
Steve smirks as he palms the crotch of Steven's jeans. "Trust me, when I say this, Stammer, your skills at handling a stick, suck."
"I can't handle a stick? Refresh my memory, how many goals did I score this past season?"
Steve rubs hard over Steven's dick through his jeans. "We weren't talking about your goals, blondie."
Steven nibbles on his bottom lip as he tries to pay attention to shifting gears, driving, and not making a mess in his jeans. "Steve, what are you -"
"Eyes on the road, Stammer." Steven hears his belt click and the zipper on his jeans being lowered, as he tries to do as instructed.
"Easy for you to say," he manages to get out as Steve's hand slips into his jeans.
Steve chuckles. "I'm merely testing your ability to focus."
"My focus is fine!" Steve says through gritted teeth. "Oh, fuck, Downs, keep doing that."
Surprisingly enough, Steven manages to keep his attention focused on the road, and shifting gears. That is, until Steve does something absolutely maddening with his thumb to the head of Steven's cock. Steven's foot stumbles on the clutch, and he grabs Steve's wrist, his thumb running over the pulse point. "Fuck. If you keep doing that, I'll -"
"Can't have that," Steve whispers, jacking Steven once more for emphasis, before he withdraws his hand.
"You're such a cock," Steven says, voice low and predatory.
"I'm flattered you care so much," Steve says, leaning towards Steven, and nipping at his earlobe.
Steven's lips are pressed in a thin line as he tries to come up with a more eloquent response besides 'fuck off', or 'shut up'. He fails and utters another sentence full of expletives as the car stalls.
Steve, because he's an asshole, is almost doubled over in laughter, and Steven weakly punches his shoulder again, before his hand works the gear shift.
"Oh, blow me, Downs," Steven growls as he turns right onto a quieter section of road.
Steve shrugs, moves the hand still resting on Steven's thigh slightly upwards. "Okay."
"Seriously?" Steven asks, looking over at Steve.
Steve grabs for the wheel to avoid hitting the curb. "Geez, Stammer, eyes on the road."
"No, are you being serious? 'Cause I was joking."
The smile on Steve's face grows wider at the expression Steven currently has. "I'm as serious as a heart attack, blondie."
"How? I mean, what? I, Christ, now?" Steven was torn between watching the road, and staring at Steve.
Steve leaned forward, gripping the wheel as he forced the car away from hitting the curb. "Yes, Steven. Now, c'mon, pull over, and you'll see just how serious I am."
Steven seemed lost in thought as they continue down the street. Finally, Steven navigates the Fisker down a small street.
They stop in a fairly deserted car park, and Steven cuts the engine. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a warm puff of air hit his ear.
"Easy, kitten," Steve whispers, voice low and gravelly. He chuckles as he watches the red spread from Steven's neck up to his cheeks. "Y'know you don't have to be nervous." He reached down with his hand, and Steven inhaled sharply, half-expecting Steve to touch him again. Instead, Steve unbuckles Steven's seatbelt, brushing his lips against Steven's temple.
"Fuck it," Steven says, before he grabs Steve by the back of his neck, pulling Steve's face towards his "I'll show you nervous," Steven growls, and kisses him roughly.
Steve lets out a surprised, but amused groan as their lips collide. He hears Steven scrambling to get around the gearshift, before his palms press against his shoulders. Steve's fingers curl around Steven's hips, the soft cotton of his shirt rubs against his slightly calloused palms. He sneaks a hand under the waistband of Steven's jeans, and squeezes his ass, smirking under Steven's lips as Steven lets out a whimper and grinds against him. It isn't long before Steven is straddling Steve, the rough denim of his jeans creating a delicious friction against Steve's flimsy shorts.
"Jesus shit," Steven gasps out, his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans.
Steve has his hands tangled in Steven's hair, as he looked up at him. And, god, if seeing Steven flushed, and practically panting with need wasn't the hottest possible image Steve could conjure, he didn't know what was. Steven looked slightly flustered as Steve just stared at him. He cupped Steven through his jeans, stroking the outline of his rigid flesh, watching as Steven bit his bottom lip and ground against his hand.
"Fucking hell, Downs."
"I don't think the front seat's built for this," Steve mumbles, teeth nipping at the hollow in the base of Steven's throat.
"Then the backseat it is," Steven gasps, voice all fucked up.
"After you," Steve says, winking at Steven.
It earns him a glare, and a smack to his shoulder, before Steven is opening the door and scrambling out of the car.
Steven tries to push on Steve's torso, in an effort to get him into the back, but Steve is too quick. He grins, and the next thing Steven realizes, he's on his back, the console digging into his spine.
"You're such an ass," he hisses.
"Speaking of asses," Steve starts, "you've got a great one." He shuts the door behind him, shifting slightly on the seat, before he's pressing between Steven's legs, his mouth nipping and sucking at Steven's earlobes. He squeezes Steven's ass for good measure, which earns him a moan from Steven, and a scrambling of his hands along his back.
"Fucking hell." Steven grits his teeth, and leans his head back, exposing the pale skin of his neck to Steve's wandering mouth. He gasps as he feels Steve's teeth graze his jugular. "Downs, fuck … Jesus shit, what the … fucking hell -"
Steve is biting and sucking Steven's neck, his hand tangling in Steven's blond locks, pulling his head further back, exposing more of his neck. "I really should make you pay for tying me up earlier." He licks a long line along Steven's neck, the tip dipping into the hollow of Steven's throat.
"Oh, shit," Steven whimpers. "Come on, Downie, just get on with it. Stop being a fucking tease."
"You know damn well, you like it," Steve says, biting down a tad harder on Steven's neck. He smirks against his shoulder as Steven's hips buck. "I'm the only one who knows how you like it."
"Says you," Steven goads.
Steve sits back slightly, eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?"
"Really," Steven challenges. He takes Steve's momentary distraction to rub his palm over his dick, and smirks as Steve inhales sharply.
"So, who else have you been fooling around with in the backseat of a car?" Steve demands, pretending to look hurt.
"Hey!" Steven starts, "you've got Landeskog to make eyes at."
Steve laughs, running his fingers through Steven's hair, before his finger is trailing across Steven's jaw. "Oh, kitten, are you jealous?"
Steven laughs, mock affronted. "Of Captain pretty boy?" he scoffs. "Give me a break."
"Mm," Steve says, "that brings up plenty of delicious possibilities." He tugs on Steven's hair, earning him a whispered plea, as he leans in, and whispers against the shell of Steven's ear, "Don't worry, Steven, I intend to break you."
"Oh, please, Downs, please. That's what I want. Please."
Steve smirks up at Steven, his dark eyes mischievous and challenging as he tugs on Steven's jeans, sliding them down and off, tossing them aside. He gets Steven's boxers past his hips, and oh fuck, Steven's already hard.
"Motherfucking fuck," Steven mutters, teeth scraping over his wrist as he feels Steve's breath as it hits his cock. Steve runs his palm across the head of Steven's cock, eyes watching Steven intently. Steven feels his cock twitch, and he resists the urge to shove his hands in Steve's hair and force his cock into his mouth.
Steve chuckles. "If you think I'm just going to suck you off, kitten, you've got another thing coming."
Steve moves Steven's legs apart, and Steven groans, muttering incoherently as he watches Steve's head dip down. He feels as Steve licks a long line past his cock, past his balls, to the curve of his ass.
"Oh, fuck," Steven exclaims, eyes going wide when he realizes what Steve has in mind. He groans shamelessly when he feels Steve's tongue sink into him, licking at the sides of his opening in long, languid strokes.
"Jesus fuck, Steve," Steven manages to get out. "Oh … fucking shit … goddamn … Steve …"
"You like that, hm?" Steve whispers, wriggling his tongue deeper, hands running up Steven's thighs, before they move to cup his ass, and spreading his legs wider. He exhales loudly, his hot breath tickling Steven's insides. "Fuck, Steven, you're so tight." He withdraws his tongue slowly, licking it against Steven's edges, as he pushes down on Steven's hips to halt his movements.
"Oh, shit, yes, I fucking … fuck, Steve, your tongue feels so fucking good."
"Really?" Steve asks, and because he's an asshole like that, he pulls back slightly, eyes dark in arousal. He exhales softly, his breath caught between Steven's cheeks makes Steven shudder, and wriggle his hips.
"Why the fuck did you stop? Come the fuck on, Steve, I didn't say you could stop …"
"Who says I take orders from you, blondie?" Steve teases, biting at the skin of Steven's upper thigh. Steven's thighs clench at this action.
"Fuck, Steve … stop being a fucking teas -"
"Are you going to say it?"
"Say what? Jesus Christ, Steve, this isn't some fucking game."
Steve flicks his tongue across the head of Steven's cock, the taste of Steven melts on his tongue like a sugar cube. Steven whimpers, bites on the skin of his wrist.
He sighs, licking a long stripe along Steven's thigh. "Apparently, I didn't try hard enough that time ..."
Steven watches as the crown of Steve's head disappears, and he jumps as he feels Steve's tongue pressing into him again. He can't help it, he grips Steve's hair so tightly his knuckles hurt.
"You're going to be so broken by the time I'm finished with you, Steven," Steve promises, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of Steven's thighs. "You are going to be so undone …"
"Oh, shit, Steve, that's what I want. Please. Fuck …" Steven tugs on Steve's hair, his grip white-knuckled.
Steve's tongue slips inside Steven once again, as one of his hands comes up Steven's body, until his index and middle finger make contact with Steven's lips. Steven glares down at Steve as he sucks them into his mouth in a hot, wet, drawing pull.
Steve is so violently hard at that action, he grinds his hips down into the leather seat, just to relish in the friction it creates.
"Shit, Steven, that looks so fucking hot," he murmurs. "You like sucking on my fingers? You wish it was my cock instead, hm?"
Before Steven can get any words out, Steve pulls back from Steven, and presses the two slick fingers inside him. He scissors his fingers, as his tongue is probing Steven's opening again.
Steven's groan is mangled, and he arches his back, his grip in Steve's hair still white-knuckled and desperate. His vision goes white for a moment. "Oh, fuck," he chokes out.
Steven's vision has barely returned, before he feels Steve's mouth swallowing his dick in one fell swoop, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks him hard.
Steve can hear the moans from Steven as his fingers continue to fuck him open, while his mouth slides down toward the base of Steven's shaft. Steven lets out a strangled sound, and he tugs harder on Steve's hair.
"Steve, I swear to God, if you keep this up, I'm gonna -"
"Well, we can't have that, can we, kitten?" Steve says. He lets Steven's cock slide from his mouth, a thin, wet line running from Steve's lips to the head of Steven's cock. He slowly lets his fingers slide out of Steven, and Steven whimpers at the loss of contact. He digs his fingers into Steve's arms as he stares up at him, lips swollen and raw, pupils blown - the blue of his irises barely visible - and wide.
Steve tugs on Steven's arm, to get him into a sitting position, before his hands are tugging the shirt Steven is still wearing off. Steven has his leg hooked around Steve's thigh, grinds relentlessly against him, practically sobs with need as the heated skin of his cock rubs against Steve's leg.
"I swear to fucking God, if you stop now, Downs, I'm going to … I swear, I'll die …"
Steve chuckles, tugging on Steven's arm, until Steven finally cottons on, and turns onto his stomach. He swats at Steven's ass. "Oh, kitten, we can't have that … I can't have you dying on me until you say it."
"Say what?"
"That I'm the only one who knows your body better than the back of your hand."
"Oh, fucking shit, Steve, are we still on about that?" Steven's practically sobbing now, knees hitting the console, his cheek pressed against it. "This isn't a game. Come on, Steve, fuck me, please. Please, I'm going out of my mind here."
"I want to hear you say it," Steve whispers, mouth pressed against Steven's ear, as his hand runs down the backs of Steven's thighs.
"Jesus fuck, Steve … have it your way …" Steven chokes out. "You … only you. You're the only one who knows how to fuck me properly … Satisfied, now?" Steven wriggles his ass, and he can't help but smirk as he hears Steve inhale sharply.
"Oh, kitten," Steve whispers, voice gravelly as he presses a kiss between Steven's shoulder blades.
"You can be such a cock," Steven snaps, "and stop calling me kitten."
Steve has to laugh as he grips Steven's hips tightly, and lines himself up at his entrance. It occurs to Steve that they haven't done this without a condom in a long time, then again, it isn't like either of them planned on this happening in the backseat of Steven's brand new car. He doesn't think not having a condom will deter Steven from wanting him to fuck him, so he slowly slides just the head of his cock inside Steven. Steven is already stretched from earlier, so Steve slides right in.
Steven doesn't dare breathe as he feels Steven press his full length in, before he withdraws slowly.
"Motherfucking fuck," Steven gasps, shoving back against Steve, and he bites down on his arm. "Fuck me, harder."
"Something like this?" Steve's voice is raspy as he grips Steven's hips hard, withdrawing almost all the way, before he thrusts forward again, hitting Steven's prostate as he does so. Steven bites his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, and the lights explode around his vision, as he rocks back against Steve.
"Shit, yes, fuck, just like that. Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good."
"Yes," Steve hisses, as he leans over Steven, teeth grazing the skin of Steven's jaw, and neck, before he bites at Steven's shoulder blade. "You fucking love it. You love that I'm fucking you in the backseat of your new car. How I have you bent over the console … how I could probably get you off just like this, without having to touch your cock again. You like knowing no one else gets you off as well as I do, am I right?"
Steven's tongue is licking over Steve's wrist, as he sobs and mutters enough curse words that would have his mother blushing. "Please, Steve … make me … make me fucking come, please."
"Have it your way, kitten," Steve whispers, pounding into him relentlessly, as he finally reaches down to grab hold of Steven's dick.
"Oh, fucking shit, Steve …" Steven's breath was coming in erratic gasps. It sound almost as if Steven was hyperventilating. Before he could position his hand to catch most of Steven's come, Steven shuddered and spilled all over the console.
Steve groaned as the force of Steven's orgasm caused him to clench around him. He gripped Steven's hips so hard, he was sure there would be bruises there in a few hours, as he fisted his clean hand in Steven's hair. "Steven, I'm … gonna … gonna come."
"Oh shit," was all Steven managed to get out, as Steve shuddered, and came. Steve pressed his forehead to Steven's shoulder blades as he swallowed mouthfuls of air.
For a good solid minute or so, there was silence. Steven's breathing was starting to return to normal, and Steve took that as his cue to withdraw. He had his hands on Steven's hips in a steadying grip as he slowly withdrew from his body. There was a thin trail of come that followed, sliding down Steven's thigh.
The next sound Steve heard was Steven swearing as he looked at the console in abject horror. "Don't you dare laugh about this, Downs," Steven said.
"Well, you know the solution to that," Steve murmured, running two fingers through Steven's come, before he brought them up, pressing them against Steven's lips. "Come on, kitten."
Steven glared at Steve, but he did as he was told, and parted his lips slightly, allowing Steve to slip the digits past his lips. After both fingers were cleaned, Steve withdrew them, and smirked.
He watched, eyes smouldering, as Steven swiped his index and middle finger through his come, and brought the fingers up to Steve's mouth. "Quid pro quo, Downs."
After Steven's come was cleaned from the console, Steve grabbed Steven's head, and pulled his mouth to his. Steven relaxed into the kiss, allowing Steve's tongue access to his mouth.
Eventually, they broke apart, Steve nipping at Steven's bottom lip, as he sighed and ran a hand down Steven's back.
The next thing Steve knows, Steven is tugging his clothes back on, and he's climbing into the passenger seat.
"You can drive back," Steven says.
"For real?"
Steven just smirks as Steve climbs into the driver's seat, and starts up the car.
It sounds like a dream. Steve could get used to this, he realizes as he shifts the car into reverse. They aren't on the road for more than a few moments, before he feels Steven's hand travelling up his thigh.
"Turnabout's fair play," Steven whispers, before he leans down.
Steve would have to agree with Steven in that instant.