Fill: Escaping Reality 8/? (definitely NSFW)bandearg_roisOctober 7 2010, 00:40:37 UTC
“Len… Len… Len…” he heard as if he was far away from the speaker, but soon realized that it was him making those noises, saying Len’s name like it was a mantra. Len made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat and continued his ministrations. Jim suddenly found himself with his legs over Len’s shoulders, and Len lapping delicately at the skin between his balls and ass, pressing experimentally. He arched up as the sensations overwhelmed him, and Len hadn’t even touched his cock yet.
He yelped in surprise when that tongue pressed firmly against his ass, licking with broad strokes. His vision was going fuzzy, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He was panting now, hands scrabbling at the satin sheets (a part of his mind made a note to tease Len for satin sheets once he got control back) as the sensations became overwhelming. Len’s fingers were in him now, the soft burn driving him insane.
“Len, please… pleasepleasepleaseplease!” he whined, cock twitching. He wanted Len in him now! and he needed it like he needed air. He felt Len’s chuckle, the vibrations echoing into his legs, and then the tongue and fingers left him and he jerked, whining in loss. He sighed into Len’s mouth when the man kissed him again, draping over him like a furry security blanket.
“Sh, darlin’. Just let me do this,” Len murmured, kissing him again in that slow, drugging way, and he felt disconnected, even though every nerve ending was on fire, and his cock was begging for release. He was brought back to himself abruptly when he heard the crinkle of condom wrapper and the snap of a tube of lube being opened. He tried to look down, but Len distracted him with kisses and nips, and playing with his nipples. Part of his brain rationalized that Len was pretty big, certainly bigger than he’d had before, but then Len was kissing him and pushing into him, so soft, so gentle, and the only thing he could think was ’more, faster’.
“Nngh…” was all he could get out, trying to articulate his need. Len was laughing again, still moving in that slow, insistent slide, the burn of it making Jim mindless.
“Is this what you wanted, Jim?” Len’s voice was like velvet rubbed the wrong way, and infinitely lower than it had been even a moment before, and Jim looked up into those green-brown eyes and became lost, reveling in the fact that this man was his, and his alone; at least for now. Len finally slid all the way in, balls snug against Jim’s ass, and Jim was able to breathe again, the fullness of it all taking him to a different world where everything was backward; up was down, left was south, and he felt like the most important thing ever. And then Len began to move.
Each thrust was like a slow jackhammer, smooth but strong, hitting his prostate with every thrust because he was so tight and Len was so big. He still hadn’t had any attention to his cock, but the stars behind his eyes made it so that that wasn’t important. He was keening now, beyond words, arching up into the thrusts, wanting more, needing something that only Len could supply. His attention tunneled to the feel of Len, all of him: the harsh pants in his ear, the feel of those strong fingers pressing into his hips, and the inexorable glide of his cock, which was quickly becoming an addiction.
He threw his head back with a gasp when Len changed angles, effectively bruising his prostate, and finally, finally, words escaped. “Harder, faster, please…” he didn’t even know if he was saying them out loud, but when Len lifted his hips higher and started slamming into him, faster, faster… A thumb glanced over the tip of his cock and he was lost, vaguely aware of a high-pitched groan and hot liquid splashing up on his chest before all rational thought left him.
He came to with Len thrusting slowly, lazily, as his cock softened, and when the older man pulled out, Jim whimpered at the sense of loss. He was gathered up and pulled toward the shower, and let Len wash him like he was a doll. He was too sated to care one way or the other. Once they were back in Len’s bedroom, he curled up with him, head on his shoulder.
“…Wow…” he said finally, quietly, desperate not to break the comfortable feeling between them. Len’s chuckle proved that he hadn’t, and an absent kiss was placed on his hair.
“You liked it?” Len’s voice was crushed velvet now, or whiskey, and he shivered, pressing closer. He didn’t want to move from this, and was glad they had all the time in the world now to perfect this.
Fill: Escaping Reality 10/9 (Epilogue Pt. 1)bandearg_roisOctober 9 2010, 16:08:12 UTC
They were together for three glorious months, before reality came crashing down in the form of his mother showing up at the bookstore when Len was in class.
"Jimmy," she said quietly, and Jim just flipped the sign. He was 18 now, what in the hell was she doing here?
"Hi Winona." He was mutely satisfied by her flinch, and led her into the back, sitting behind his boss's desk. "What brings you to Oxford?"
"You. You need to come home, Jimmy."
"I'm a legal adult, and I like it here."
"Working in a bookstore for chump change? Taking night classes? What's not to like?" Winona replied, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
"I have a life here, Winona, which is a hell of a lot more than what I had there." He changed the subject. "You get rid of Barry yet?"
"No. He's worried about you, Jimmy, he - "
"He just wants his eye candy back and to have another chance at my ass. I'm not going back to Iowa, and there's no way you're making me." He stood, wondering why in the hell he'd indulged her enough to talk to her in the first place. "I'll show you out." He overrode her protests and led her to the door, letting her out and turning the sign back to 'open.' Ken was due by to get him for lunch in a few minutes, and his boss should be back from the bank before that.
He had put Winona out of his head by the time Len came to pick him up, and pulled him into one of their usual kisses, which would have terrorized anyone on the street even 2 centuries before. "Hi, Len," he murmured before running around and jumping in the passenger seat.
"Hey, Jim. Who's that blonde lady?" Winona was standing outside the bookstore; he'd run right past her after hearing Len's honk, and she was staring in horror at the two of them.
"Just some old lady," he answered with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Let's go." Len raised an eyebrow, but obediently drove to the next town over, where they ate munch at some out of the way mom'n'pop, exchanging kisses along with their food. Jim again put Winona from his mind, grinning at Len, who was looking more relaxed than he had that morning.
"What?" Len asked, and he just smiled, grabbing Len's hand.
"So, did you pass your test?"
"With flying colors, as you predicted." Len looked down at his food, playing with it for a moment before tightening his grip on Jim's hand. Jim quirked his head, curious as to this display. "Jim, I already talked to Gloria; you want to go out to dinner tonight?"
"Fancy dinner? Not from Darla's?"
"No, I was thinking more along the line of Eve's Garden."
"Um... sure, Len. I'm always up for going out with you, you know that. I love you." Jim immediately shut his mouth and yanked his hand away. Why did I say that?' he thought to himself, bracing himself for Len's reaction.
"Jim... Jim, look at me." Len's tone was gentle, and he cautiously looked up at him, expecting the worst. What he was greeted with, however, was the best thing ever. Len's hazel eyes were wide, as was the unrepentant grin that stretched across his face. "I love you, too."
The rest of his day at the bookstore was spent on Cloud Nine, and he kissed Gloria, his boss, on the cheek before he went home to change. By the time Len got home from class to take a shower, he was happily putting the finishing touches on the suit that Len had insisted he get weeks before, 'just in case.' Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to Eve's Garden, the classiest restaurant in town.
Re: Fill: Escaping Reality 11/9 (Epilogue Pt. 2)bandearg_roisOctober 9 2010, 19:14:23 UTC
They had an enjoyable meal, and Len even dragged him onto the floor for a few dances. By the time they ordered dessert, Jim noticed that the tension in Len's shoulders had grown, even though his face was about the most relaxed he'd ever seen it outside of sex.
"Len? What's wrong?" Len jumped as if he'd poked him, and sighed; at least the sigh wasn't angsty.
"Nothin', darlin'," he answered, even as dessert arrived. Nestled in with the piece of cake on his plate was a small box, the kind used for trinkets or jewelry.
"Len?" he asked slowly, looking up at his lover. Len was blushing, which under any other circumstances would have prompted teasing, since he didn't do it often, but the older man deftly plucked the box from Jim's plate. "Len?"
"Jim, I know we've only known each other a few months, but I'm in love with you, and I can't see my life without you. Will you marry me?" Jim was speechless.
"Len... You don't even know my name."
"I know you're Jim, and that you have a secret enjoyment for chick flicks and chocolate ice cream. I know that you have a little mole right under your collar line. I don't need your last name to know all of that. Names mean nothing, really, except something to call you, and I already have that."
"Len..." he choked out over the lump in his throat. What kind of luck did he have, to get this incredible man, and be practically begged to keep him to himself. "...Yes." Nothing else would come out, none of the logical arguments that cropped out, none of the explanations. He was crushed into a hug and held on just as tight, before kissing Len softly.
That night, after celebrating, Jim was curled up with Len when something was hyposprayed into his neck and he thrashed in alarm. Len didn't move at all, except to breathe, and as he was dragged under by the drugs flowing in his system, he tried to grab Len's hand. He had almost gotten hold when he lost consciousness.
He woke up in his bedroom, feeling like he'd been hit by a hovertruck. He looked over at the chronometer. It read as July 22, 2251. How in the hell had he lost over a year of his life? He was only supposed to be 17, and now he was nearly halfway to 19.
"Mom?" he called cautiously, not sure if Winona was home or not.
"Hold on, honey, I'm coming!" Winona called, and soon he was engulfed in a hug almost as tight as the one he'd gotten upon his return from Tarsus. "I'm so glad you're awake!"
"What happened?" He couldn't remember anything past hitting Barry with a lamp and jumping out of his window, two days before his 17th birthday.
"You were in an accident, and you fell into a coma. We were afraid you wouldn't wake up." Winona Kirk was an excellent liar, but he could tell she wasn't telling the truth. He didn't have the energy to call her on it; instead he let her hug him and wondered when she was going back into the stars.
"Where's Barry?"
"He's gone. You're old enough to take care of yourself when I'm called out."
Re: Fill: Escaping Reality 11/9 (Epilogue Pt. 2)bandearg_roisOctober 9 2010, 19:24:37 UTC
I'm going to link to the completed cleaned up version of this as soon as I have it up. But I wanted to get the end of this out before I did it so no one is waiting forever.
He yelped in surprise when that tongue pressed firmly against his ass, licking with broad strokes. His vision was going fuzzy, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He was panting now, hands scrabbling at the satin sheets (a part of his mind made a note to tease Len for satin sheets once he got control back) as the sensations became overwhelming. Len’s fingers were in him now, the soft burn driving him insane.
“Len, please… pleasepleasepleaseplease!” he whined, cock twitching. He wanted Len in him now! and he needed it like he needed air. He felt Len’s chuckle, the vibrations echoing into his legs, and then the tongue and fingers left him and he jerked, whining in loss. He sighed into Len’s mouth when the man kissed him again, draping over him like a furry security blanket.
“Sh, darlin’. Just let me do this,” Len murmured, kissing him again in that slow, drugging way, and he felt disconnected, even though every nerve ending was on fire, and his cock was begging for release. He was brought back to himself abruptly when he heard the crinkle of condom wrapper and the snap of a tube of lube being opened. He tried to look down, but Len distracted him with kisses and nips, and playing with his nipples. Part of his brain rationalized that Len was pretty big, certainly bigger than he’d had before, but then Len was kissing him and pushing into him, so soft, so gentle, and the only thing he could think was ’more, faster’.
“Nngh…” was all he could get out, trying to articulate his need. Len was laughing again, still moving in that slow, insistent slide, the burn of it making Jim mindless.
“Is this what you wanted, Jim?” Len’s voice was like velvet rubbed the wrong way, and infinitely lower than it had been even a moment before, and Jim looked up into those green-brown eyes and became lost, reveling in the fact that this man was his, and his alone; at least for now. Len finally slid all the way in, balls snug against Jim’s ass, and Jim was able to breathe again, the fullness of it all taking him to a different world where everything was backward; up was down, left was south, and he felt like the most important thing ever.
And then Len began to move.
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He threw his head back with a gasp when Len changed angles, effectively bruising his prostate, and finally, finally, words escaped. “Harder, faster, please…” he didn’t even know if he was saying them out loud, but when Len lifted his hips higher and started slamming into him, faster, faster… A thumb glanced over the tip of his cock and he was lost, vaguely aware of a high-pitched groan and hot liquid splashing up on his chest before all rational thought left him.
He came to with Len thrusting slowly, lazily, as his cock softened, and when the older man pulled out, Jim whimpered at the sense of loss. He was gathered up and pulled toward the shower, and let Len wash him like he was a doll. He was too sated to care one way or the other. Once they were back in Len’s bedroom, he curled up with him, head on his shoulder.
“…Wow…” he said finally, quietly, desperate not to break the comfortable feeling between them. Len’s chuckle proved that he hadn’t, and an absent kiss was placed on his hair.
“You liked it?” Len’s voice was crushed velvet now, or whiskey, and he shivered, pressing closer. He didn’t want to move from this, and was glad they had all the time in the world now to perfect this.
He was beyond wrong.
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Sorry I killed your brain but I'm really happy that you liked it.
Should I continue it to Jim being dragged home? Or leave that for the cleaned-up version?
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Fear not, dear one, it's on its way.... *runs off to figure out who comes to get Jim*
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"Jimmy," she said quietly, and Jim just flipped the sign. He was 18 now, what in the hell was she doing here?
"Hi Winona." He was mutely satisfied by her flinch, and led her into the back, sitting behind his boss's desk. "What brings you to Oxford?"
"You. You need to come home, Jimmy."
"I'm a legal adult, and I like it here."
"Working in a bookstore for chump change? Taking night classes? What's not to like?" Winona replied, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
"I have a life here, Winona, which is a hell of a lot more than what I had there." He changed the subject. "You get rid of Barry yet?"
"No. He's worried about you, Jimmy, he - "
"He just wants his eye candy back and to have another chance at my ass. I'm not going back to Iowa, and there's no way you're making me." He stood, wondering why in the hell he'd indulged her enough to talk to her in the first place. "I'll show you out." He overrode her protests and led her to the door, letting her out and turning the sign back to 'open.' Ken was due by to get him for lunch in a few minutes, and his boss should be back from the bank before that.
He had put Winona out of his head by the time Len came to pick him up, and pulled him into one of their usual kisses, which would have terrorized anyone on the street even 2 centuries before. "Hi, Len," he murmured before running around and jumping in the passenger seat.
"Hey, Jim. Who's that blonde lady?" Winona was standing outside the bookstore; he'd run right past her after hearing Len's honk, and she was staring in horror at the two of them.
"Just some old lady," he answered with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Let's go." Len raised an eyebrow, but obediently drove to the next town over, where they ate munch at some out of the way mom'n'pop, exchanging kisses along with their food. Jim again put Winona from his mind, grinning at Len, who was looking more relaxed than he had that morning.
"What?" Len asked, and he just smiled, grabbing Len's hand.
"So, did you pass your test?"
"With flying colors, as you predicted." Len looked down at his food, playing with it for a moment before tightening his grip on Jim's hand. Jim quirked his head, curious as to this display. "Jim, I already talked to Gloria; you want to go out to dinner tonight?"
"Fancy dinner? Not from Darla's?"
"No, I was thinking more along the line of Eve's Garden."
"Um... sure, Len. I'm always up for going out with you, you know that. I love you." Jim immediately shut his mouth and yanked his hand away. Why did I say that?' he thought to himself, bracing himself for Len's reaction.
"Jim... Jim, look at me." Len's tone was gentle, and he cautiously looked up at him, expecting the worst. What he was greeted with, however, was the best thing ever. Len's hazel eyes were wide, as was the unrepentant grin that stretched across his face. "I love you, too."
The rest of his day at the bookstore was spent on Cloud Nine, and he kissed Gloria, his boss, on the cheek before he went home to change. By the time Len got home from class to take a shower, he was happily putting the finishing touches on the suit that Len had insisted he get weeks before, 'just in case.' Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to Eve's Garden, the classiest restaurant in town.
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"Len? What's wrong?" Len jumped as if he'd poked him, and sighed; at least the sigh wasn't angsty.
"Nothin', darlin'," he answered, even as dessert arrived. Nestled in with the piece of cake on his plate was a small box, the kind used for trinkets or jewelry.
"Len?" he asked slowly, looking up at his lover. Len was blushing, which under any other circumstances would have prompted teasing, since he didn't do it often, but the older man deftly plucked the box from Jim's plate. "Len?"
"Jim, I know we've only known each other a few months, but I'm in love with you, and I can't see my life without you. Will you marry me?" Jim was speechless.
"Len... You don't even know my name."
"I know you're Jim, and that you have a secret enjoyment for chick flicks and chocolate ice cream. I know that you have a little mole right under your collar line. I don't need your last name to know all of that. Names mean nothing, really, except something to call you, and I already have that."
"Len..." he choked out over the lump in his throat. What kind of luck did he have, to get this incredible man, and be practically begged to keep him to himself. "...Yes." Nothing else would come out, none of the logical arguments that cropped out, none of the explanations. He was crushed into a hug and held on just as tight, before kissing Len softly.
That night, after celebrating, Jim was curled up with Len when something was hyposprayed into his neck and he thrashed in alarm. Len didn't move at all, except to breathe, and as he was dragged under by the drugs flowing in his system, he tried to grab Len's hand. He had almost gotten hold when he lost consciousness.
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He woke up in his bedroom, feeling like he'd been hit by a hovertruck. He looked over at the chronometer. It read as July 22, 2251. How in the hell had he lost over a year of his life? He was only supposed to be 17, and now he was nearly halfway to 19.
"Mom?" he called cautiously, not sure if Winona was home or not.
"Hold on, honey, I'm coming!" Winona called, and soon he was engulfed in a hug almost as tight as the one he'd gotten upon his return from Tarsus. "I'm so glad you're awake!"
"What happened?" He couldn't remember anything past hitting Barry with a lamp and jumping out of his window, two days before his 17th birthday.
"You were in an accident, and you fell into a coma. We were afraid you wouldn't wake up." Winona Kirk was an excellent liar, but he could tell she wasn't telling the truth. He didn't have the energy to call her on it; instead he let her hug him and wondered when she was going back into the stars.
"Where's Barry?"
"He's gone. You're old enough to take care of yourself when I'm called out."
Good. He would be fine on his own.
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