Deeply random, non-SPN ficlet
Cleaning out old files, I came across some Shox/Dom smut that was supposed to be part of the Epic of Doom sparcck and I never actually managed to get off our asses and write. It's ridiculously messy (i.e., not only unbetaed, but has not even been subjected to a real read-through), it's a small part of what was supposed to be a large whole, and I'm not sure if anyone still reading my LJ is even familiar with the pairing at this point, and yet, I'm posting anyway, because I'm a rebel and I'll never, ever be any good. And also because, hey, I still think it's hot.
First, the background: Shox is the lead singer of the LA band World Without Sundays, and he's deeply hot, and if it Billy hadn't claimed the title until the world ends, he would totally be Dom's BFF, and sometimes they kiss, occasionally in front of hordes of shrieking fangirls:
and it's really, really hot. And also, they are in love. Or they would have been, if Dom wasn't already in love with Billy.
So. Pointless, self-indulgent, years-old smut in a fandom most of you aren't even in for a pairing even the ones of you who are don't care about! Aren't y'all glad you have me friended?
This was conceived after a Defamer-ish sighting of Dom, barefoot and in too-large sweatpants, under the hood of his car by the side of the road at like 9 a.m. on a weekday morning the day of a WWS show. J9 and I decided clearly he was coming from Shox's house, having been unceremoniously removed after they both overslept after a long night involving massive amounts of incredibly hot sex.
The bar is hot and too stuffy, and Dom can feel a headache coming on. The general din isn't helping things any, and he sighs, rubs at his temples. The gesture goes completely unremarked upon, which Dom finds exceedingly unfair. If he has to suffer, at the very least he deserves massive amounts of sympathy.
But Ryan is prattling away his latest conquest -- "Six feet if she's an inch, legs that go all the fucking way up, and a mouth like you wouldn't believe..." -- and everyone else is listening with what Ryan clearly thinks is rapt attention, but looks a lot closer to indulgent amusement. Dom tunes him out and goes back to sulking quietly Being kicked out of bed before nine a.m. is never an auspicious beginning to the day, and being kicked out of your mate's house with a raging hard on in overlarge sweatpants that don't even belong to you pretty much sucks as hard as it's possible to suck.
He's been out of sorts all day. Tired and grouchy and horny, and nothing -- napping, working out, jerking off -- has helped. Fucking Shox. He glowers darkly at the stage, and as if by magic, Shox appears, followed by Guy and Grecco. "About time," someone behind him grumbles, and Dom fervently agrees, forgetting his annoyance as Shox takes the stage. He doesn't even try to keep to himself from watching Shox's arse as the band sets up, but he displays what he considers remarkable restraint by not taking a picture of Shox bending over to plug his guitar into his amp.
He's so focused on the stage that when a hand clamps down on his shoulder and a wryly amused voice says, "Nice view?", he actually jumps a little.
"Shit, Elijah, when you did you get here?" he asks.
"Right now." Elijah shoves him over and drops down beside him. "Just in time to watch you play slack-jawed yokel."
Dom glares. "I was zoned out, is all."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Elijah smirks.
"Fuck off," Dom mumbles. Elijah giggles, and Dom just knows he's about to make a smart-assed comment about the sorry comeback, but if he says anything, it's lost as the music starts. Dom turns his attention back to the stage as he feels a smile tugging at his lips -- watching Shox morph effortlessly into rock star mode always makes him feel bizarrely... tender. He fingers the smooth leather circling his wrist and lets himself grin for a moment. A few more hours, and this utterly crap day will be atoned for. And in the meantime, he has a hell of a distraction.
He always forgets exactly how much he loves the music. He's seen them live too many times to count, watched them rehearse and jumped in for a song or two when Shox is feeling generous, and he knows the album inside and out, but it's somehow a surprise each time the music starts. So easy to lose himself, so easy to be swept away.
Or it would be, if not for Shox onstage crooning, moving to the music, fat drops of sweat already forming on his neck and brow. When Shox undulates slightly, hips moving smoothly in his tight black jeans, Dom's breath catches and his mouth starts to water. He remembers his camera and fumbles for it, not taking his eyes off Shox, and then he lean over and pokes at Elijah. "Lemme out," he says into Elijah's ear. Elijah looks quizzically at him, and he holds up the camera in explanation as Elijah slides out of the booth.
He spends the rest of the set taking pictures -- Shox wailing into the microphone; Shox smirking in Dom's direction; Shox with his head thrown back, strong fingers moving confidently over the strings of his guitar. He gets a few shots of the rest of the band more to keep Shox from laughing his arse off when he goes through the pictures than anything else -- he loves them all, but at the moment they are spectacularly not the point.
When the set ends, he wanders back to the table. Elijah has buggered off somewhere and taken half the table with him, probably hiding from the eager fangirls he wasn't quite too distracted to notice had spent the evening paying a lot more attention to him than to the music. He plays nice when a few of them wander over to gush at him, smiling and making jokes and signing autographs by rote while Ryan and Callie, the only two left sitting, roll their eyes.
By the time he manages to extricate himself, most of his friends have already said their goodbyes and are drifting towards the exit. Ryan and Callie, however, are still waiting patiently, and Ryan says, "We're all going to hook up at the Spider Club -- you in?"
"Sure," Dom says. "Just let me say goodbye." He looks around. "And I should find Elijah -- he leaves for Austin tomorrow."
"He's outside smoking," Callie says, and Dom nods as he heads for the stage.
Shox is busy charming an obviously smitten fan, so Dom makes the rounds, lightly kissing Guy and Grecco and talking enthusiastically about the new songs. When the girl moves away, he moves forward and calls Shox's name.
Shox turns slowly and gives him a full-out leer. "Want an autograph, little boy?" he drawls.
The look and the tone send a jolt of pure electricity to his cock, even as he can hear Guy snorting laughter behind him. But he'll be damned if he'll let Shox know that. "Maybe," he says. "What can I get for it on eBay?"
Shox grins. "Hard up for cash, Dommie-boy? I bet your legions of fangirls would pay good money for a night with you..."
"They can't afford me," Dom says. "I'm an incredibly expensive shag."
Shox raises his eyebrows. "I thought you were a cheap slut."
"Semantics," Dom says airily, and Shox grabs his wrist, pulls him closer..
"You coming over tonight?" he asks.
"Maybe," Dom says again, smirking a little. "If I don't get a better offer."
Shox tightens his grip on Dom's wrist, and hooks a finger beneath the waistband of his jeans, stroking his hipbone lightly. "You coming over tonight?" he repeats.
Dom's mouth is suddenly dry. "What--" he takes a breath. "What time?"
"After two, maybe?" Shox shrugs. ""It'll take us at least an hour to clear out of here, and then we have to cart everything back to the practice space."
Dom nods. "Gotta go," he says. "People waiting for me to liven up the party."
Shox rolls his eyes, but he pulls Dom in closer for a quick kiss. "Later, then," he breathes against Dom's lips.
Dom grins all the way out of the bar.
He finds Elijah easily, barrels down on him and practically jumps into his arms while Elijah giggles like a five-year-old. "Thought you'd left, fucker," Elijah says into his ear, showing no sign of letting go any time soon.
Dom looks put upon. "Without saying goodbye? When you've been gone for months and you're leaving again tomorrow? How can you think it of me?"
Elijah snorts. "Because you're a selfish prat who can't even be bothered to return phone calls?"
"Big girl's blouse," Dom says, pulling out of the embrace and grinning at Elijah. "Whining because it took me a whole twenty-four hours to call you back..."
"It was three days!" Elijah shrieks.
"I'm sorry, Lijah, was it your time of the month?" Dom says. "Did you want to talk about your feelings?"
"Wanker," Elijah says fervently, but he isn't quite able to keep from giggling.
"Cunt," Dom replies, pulling Elijah back into his arms. "When are you going to stop playing international movie star and come back and hang out with your friends, huh?"
"Soon, Dommie, promise," Elijah says. He steps back, and suddenly his eyes light up. "Hey, maybe you can come visit me in Prague!" He looks into Dom's face quickly, then adds, "Shox could come, too."
"We're not connected at the hip, Lijah," Dom points out.
"Sure," Elijah says vaguely. "Sure, I know. Just thought it would be fun, the three of us in Prague." And Elijah's one of the best actors Dom has ever met, but he doesn't come close to pulling off the line, and it makes Dom ache a little.
"We'll figure it out," he says. "I haven't seen you get shit-faced and spew all over the sidewalk in Prague yet. Can't miss out on that." He pulls Elijah in for one more hug, brushing a kiss across the side of his mouth, and says, "Call me from SXSW."
"Will do," Elijah replies, and Dom tightens his grip for a moment before letting go.
***
It's nearly three a.m. by the time Dom gets away, and he's drunker than he had intended to be. Not quite drunk enough to accept the ride home Hilary offers, though, or maybe just not quite shameless enough to ask her to drop him off at Shox's. He drives slowly down Sunset, trying to concentrate on the road as thoughts of Shox's lips and tongue and cock assault his brain.
He's more than half hard by the time he reaches his destination. He knocks for a good two minutes, cursing under his breath, suddenly afraid that Shox has passed out on the couch again. He doesn't have his spare set of keys with him, and he's in no shape to drive home for it. But then Shox yanks the door open, barefoot and shirtless, and Dom's breath catches in his throat.
"You're late," Shox says. His voice is a low growl, the way it only gets after shows or when he's been smoking too much, that never fails to turn Dom's knees liquid. His eyes slide down to Dom's groin, and he smiles. "Wanna make it up to me?"
"Fuck yes," Dom breathes, and Shox hooks his fingers into Dom's belt loops and yanks him inside, slamming the door behind them.
"Well?" Shox says, and Dom drops to his knees without another word, rubs his face against the hard ridge in Shox's jeans. He groans aloud at the heat, scalding even through the denim, at the growing hardness and the smell making his mouth water.
"Fuck," he says again. He mouths Shox's cock through the denim, teasing them both for a moment before forcing himself to pull back just far enough to jerk open Shox's jeans. As Shox's cock spills out, he reflects for possibly the thousandth time just how much he appreciates the fact that Shox doesn't wear pants, but he's too busy diving back in, moaning even before he gets his tongue on it, to give voice to the thought. He laps quickly at the pre-come shining on the head before opening his mouth and swallowing Shox down, sucking hard.
The choked, breathy sound Shox makes goes straight to Dom's cock, and he groans around his mouthful, reaching between his legs to jerk himself off as he sucks. "Oh, no," Shox says, laughing roughly. He hooks his fingers into Dom's hair and yanks Dom back, and Dom whines before he can help himself. Shox's cock, flushed and hard and leaking, is two inches from his face; he can smell it, still taste it on his tongue. He tries to dive back in, but Shox yanks harder, and Dom is trapped. "No touching, Dommie-boy. I'm all you get," he says.
Dom groans, more with frustration than with lust, but he wraps his hands around Shox's thick thighs and opens his mouth gratefully as Shox guides him forward. Dom's cock is pulsing in his jeans, desperate for touch, but he does his best to ignore it as Shox's cock pushes past his lips. He considers scraping his teeth over the sensitive head, or at the very least teasing, soft licks, too-gentle sucks, because Shox is way too smug when he gets his own way without at least a little resistance, but his own hunger betrays him -- he wants that beautiful cock as far down his throat at he can get it. He sucks as hard as he can, and when he feels Shox throb against his tongue, feels his cock shudder in his mouth, he pulls back all at once, so Shox comes across his face.
Shox looks down at him, on his knees, come dripping down his face, and says, "You're such a fucking nasty slut." And Dom can't help it... he purrs, too far gone for anything resembling shame. "Get up," Shox says, and Dom staggers to his feet, but Shox doesn't even give him time to stand completely before pushing him against the wall, leaning in to suck his come off Dom's lips, lick it back into his mouth.
Dom laps the come from Shox's tongue eagerly, driving his hips desperately against Shox's thigh, but Shox pulls back, just out of reach, ignoring Dom's anguished moan, and then he reaches forward, gathers the rest of his come from Dom's face, and feeds it to him, thick fingers slide effortlessly between his lips.
Dom moans harder, sucking and licking Shox's fingers, jerking his hips against every air as he tries to capture every drop, and when Shox removes his fingers, he gasps out, "Fuck me."
And Shox smiles, playful, cruel, and says, "Beg me."
Dom says, "Fuck you."
Shox laughs, hoarse but completely in control, and says, "You're going to have to do a lot better than that." He reaches forward and presses his palm against Dom's erection, and Dom grinds into it, helpless, before Shox yanks his hand away and pins Dom to the wall again. "Beg me," he says again.
Dom says, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please," and Shox smiles pleasantly.
"I'm sorry, Dom, did you want something?"
And Dom says, "Just fucking fuck me, you unbelievable goddamn cunt."
Shox laughs and yanks open the clasp on Dom's jeans, jerks them down around Dom's thighs, then turns him around, roughly, positions him against the wall. He says, "Keep your hands on the fucking wall. You reach for your cock, and I stop, " and Dom whimpers and groans and claws at the wall. He hears Shox spit and then he shouts, half pain, half unbelievable pleasure, as Shox forces two spit-slicked fingers into him, blunt and thick, no preparation at all.
Dom pushes his hips back, tries to take more, and Shox is laughing again, and he thinks he calls him a slut again but he can't be sure because after a few quick thrusts, Shox is removing his fingers and Dom is whimpering at the loss of contact, the loss of sensation, and he says, "Please, Shox, fucking please, I need your cock, just fucking fuck me, please, fuck me," and Shox finally takes pity, positions his cock and slams in hard.
Dom nearly screams, pushing back into Shox's thrusts. His own cock is neglected, aching, but it's almost an afterthought at the moment with Shox inside him, Shox rumbling obscenities as he fills Dom, stretches him, uses him like Dom needs to be used. He can hear himself groaning, low and painful, hear Shox's labored breathing in between curses, and he wants to come so badly he thinks he could die from it, but he's helpless, his hands as unable to move as if they were bound to wall, and he gasps out, "Shox.... I need..."
Shox says, "What do you need, Dommie?" and he's practically fucking purring, and he shouldn't be that fucking in control when he's buried to the hilt to Dom's ass. Dom clamps down viciously, milking Shox with his body, but while he can feel the tremor that runs through Shox, Shox's voice stays steady. "Tell me."
Shox's hands tighten on Dom's hips. He's going to leave bruises, and that thought alone sends Dom spiraling closer to the edge. "Shit... Shox, please, just... fuck" -- as Shox thrusts particularly hard -- "Fuck, please, let me come, just let me..." And Shox reaches forward, wraps his hand around Dom's cock as he sinks his teeth into Dom's shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and jerks him hard. Dom shudders and cries out and comes, splattering across Shox's hand and the wall in front of him. He dimly hears Shox's shout, feels Shox's cock shudder inside him, but he's too busy riding out the waves of his own orgasm to pay much attention.
Shox pulls out and steps back, and Dom slumps against the wall, too spent to support his own weight. "You came on my fucking wall," Shox says, and Dom laughs breathlessly. "Should make you lick it off."
He's pretty sure Shox isn't serious, pretty sure he's just taking the piss, and he says, "In your wet dreams," but when he feels Shox's hands on his shoulder pushing him down to his knees, he goes willingly.
"Do it," Shox says, and it's not quite an order, not quite a request. "Lick it clean for me," and Dom groans and bends forward, licks his own come off Shox's fucking wall while Shox stands watching him.
When the wall is clean, all traces of come gone, he sits back on his heels. He's both flatly humiliated and so turned on he thinks he could come again in a matter of minutes, and he doesn't turn around, doesn't want to meet Shox's eyes. But then Shox is dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms around Dom and whispering, "Baby," opening Dom's mouth with his own for a long, thorough kiss. When Shox finally pulls back, he says, "That was so fucking hot," and then, "You kind of taste like paint."
Dom would flip him off, or say something truly withering, but Shox is kissing him again, hands kneading his shoulders and back, and he sinks into it, reveling in the feel of Shox's hard body against him, the taste of Shox in his mouth obliterating the flat dull taste of the paint.
Shox breaks the kiss long enough to ask, "You gonna stay?" and then dives back in again before Dom can answer -- long seconds pass before Dom can gasp out, "You gonna kick me out at the crack of dawn again?"
And Shox grins and says, "I think I'll keep you around for awhile," and gets to his feet, takes Dom's hand and pulls him up, and leads him to the bedroom.
First, the background: Shox is the lead singer of the LA band World Without Sundays, and he's deeply hot, and if it Billy hadn't claimed the title until the world ends, he would totally be Dom's BFF, and sometimes they kiss, occasionally in front of hordes of shrieking fangirls:
and it's really, really hot. And also, they are in love. Or they would have been, if Dom wasn't already in love with Billy.
So. Pointless, self-indulgent, years-old smut in a fandom most of you aren't even in for a pairing even the ones of you who are don't care about! Aren't y'all glad you have me friended?
This was conceived after a Defamer-ish sighting of Dom, barefoot and in too-large sweatpants, under the hood of his car by the side of the road at like 9 a.m. on a weekday morning the day of a WWS show. J9 and I decided clearly he was coming from Shox's house, having been unceremoniously removed after they both overslept after a long night involving massive amounts of incredibly hot sex.
The bar is hot and too stuffy, and Dom can feel a headache coming on. The general din isn't helping things any, and he sighs, rubs at his temples. The gesture goes completely unremarked upon, which Dom finds exceedingly unfair. If he has to suffer, at the very least he deserves massive amounts of sympathy.
But Ryan is prattling away his latest conquest -- "Six feet if she's an inch, legs that go all the fucking way up, and a mouth like you wouldn't believe..." -- and everyone else is listening with what Ryan clearly thinks is rapt attention, but looks a lot closer to indulgent amusement. Dom tunes him out and goes back to sulking quietly Being kicked out of bed before nine a.m. is never an auspicious beginning to the day, and being kicked out of your mate's house with a raging hard on in overlarge sweatpants that don't even belong to you pretty much sucks as hard as it's possible to suck.
He's been out of sorts all day. Tired and grouchy and horny, and nothing -- napping, working out, jerking off -- has helped. Fucking Shox. He glowers darkly at the stage, and as if by magic, Shox appears, followed by Guy and Grecco. "About time," someone behind him grumbles, and Dom fervently agrees, forgetting his annoyance as Shox takes the stage. He doesn't even try to keep to himself from watching Shox's arse as the band sets up, but he displays what he considers remarkable restraint by not taking a picture of Shox bending over to plug his guitar into his amp.
He's so focused on the stage that when a hand clamps down on his shoulder and a wryly amused voice says, "Nice view?", he actually jumps a little.
"Shit, Elijah, when you did you get here?" he asks.
"Right now." Elijah shoves him over and drops down beside him. "Just in time to watch you play slack-jawed yokel."
Dom glares. "I was zoned out, is all."
"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Elijah smirks.
"Fuck off," Dom mumbles. Elijah giggles, and Dom just knows he's about to make a smart-assed comment about the sorry comeback, but if he says anything, it's lost as the music starts. Dom turns his attention back to the stage as he feels a smile tugging at his lips -- watching Shox morph effortlessly into rock star mode always makes him feel bizarrely... tender. He fingers the smooth leather circling his wrist and lets himself grin for a moment. A few more hours, and this utterly crap day will be atoned for. And in the meantime, he has a hell of a distraction.
He always forgets exactly how much he loves the music. He's seen them live too many times to count, watched them rehearse and jumped in for a song or two when Shox is feeling generous, and he knows the album inside and out, but it's somehow a surprise each time the music starts. So easy to lose himself, so easy to be swept away.
Or it would be, if not for Shox onstage crooning, moving to the music, fat drops of sweat already forming on his neck and brow. When Shox undulates slightly, hips moving smoothly in his tight black jeans, Dom's breath catches and his mouth starts to water. He remembers his camera and fumbles for it, not taking his eyes off Shox, and then he lean over and pokes at Elijah. "Lemme out," he says into Elijah's ear. Elijah looks quizzically at him, and he holds up the camera in explanation as Elijah slides out of the booth.
He spends the rest of the set taking pictures -- Shox wailing into the microphone; Shox smirking in Dom's direction; Shox with his head thrown back, strong fingers moving confidently over the strings of his guitar. He gets a few shots of the rest of the band more to keep Shox from laughing his arse off when he goes through the pictures than anything else -- he loves them all, but at the moment they are spectacularly not the point.
When the set ends, he wanders back to the table. Elijah has buggered off somewhere and taken half the table with him, probably hiding from the eager fangirls he wasn't quite too distracted to notice had spent the evening paying a lot more attention to him than to the music. He plays nice when a few of them wander over to gush at him, smiling and making jokes and signing autographs by rote while Ryan and Callie, the only two left sitting, roll their eyes.
By the time he manages to extricate himself, most of his friends have already said their goodbyes and are drifting towards the exit. Ryan and Callie, however, are still waiting patiently, and Ryan says, "We're all going to hook up at the Spider Club -- you in?"
"Sure," Dom says. "Just let me say goodbye." He looks around. "And I should find Elijah -- he leaves for Austin tomorrow."
"He's outside smoking," Callie says, and Dom nods as he heads for the stage.
Shox is busy charming an obviously smitten fan, so Dom makes the rounds, lightly kissing Guy and Grecco and talking enthusiastically about the new songs. When the girl moves away, he moves forward and calls Shox's name.
Shox turns slowly and gives him a full-out leer. "Want an autograph, little boy?" he drawls.
The look and the tone send a jolt of pure electricity to his cock, even as he can hear Guy snorting laughter behind him. But he'll be damned if he'll let Shox know that. "Maybe," he says. "What can I get for it on eBay?"
Shox grins. "Hard up for cash, Dommie-boy? I bet your legions of fangirls would pay good money for a night with you..."
"They can't afford me," Dom says. "I'm an incredibly expensive shag."
Shox raises his eyebrows. "I thought you were a cheap slut."
"Semantics," Dom says airily, and Shox grabs his wrist, pulls him closer..
"You coming over tonight?" he asks.
"Maybe," Dom says again, smirking a little. "If I don't get a better offer."
Shox tightens his grip on Dom's wrist, and hooks a finger beneath the waistband of his jeans, stroking his hipbone lightly. "You coming over tonight?" he repeats.
Dom's mouth is suddenly dry. "What--" he takes a breath. "What time?"
"After two, maybe?" Shox shrugs. ""It'll take us at least an hour to clear out of here, and then we have to cart everything back to the practice space."
Dom nods. "Gotta go," he says. "People waiting for me to liven up the party."
Shox rolls his eyes, but he pulls Dom in closer for a quick kiss. "Later, then," he breathes against Dom's lips.
Dom grins all the way out of the bar.
He finds Elijah easily, barrels down on him and practically jumps into his arms while Elijah giggles like a five-year-old. "Thought you'd left, fucker," Elijah says into his ear, showing no sign of letting go any time soon.
Dom looks put upon. "Without saying goodbye? When you've been gone for months and you're leaving again tomorrow? How can you think it of me?"
Elijah snorts. "Because you're a selfish prat who can't even be bothered to return phone calls?"
"Big girl's blouse," Dom says, pulling out of the embrace and grinning at Elijah. "Whining because it took me a whole twenty-four hours to call you back..."
"It was three days!" Elijah shrieks.
"I'm sorry, Lijah, was it your time of the month?" Dom says. "Did you want to talk about your feelings?"
"Wanker," Elijah says fervently, but he isn't quite able to keep from giggling.
"Cunt," Dom replies, pulling Elijah back into his arms. "When are you going to stop playing international movie star and come back and hang out with your friends, huh?"
"Soon, Dommie, promise," Elijah says. He steps back, and suddenly his eyes light up. "Hey, maybe you can come visit me in Prague!" He looks into Dom's face quickly, then adds, "Shox could come, too."
"We're not connected at the hip, Lijah," Dom points out.
"Sure," Elijah says vaguely. "Sure, I know. Just thought it would be fun, the three of us in Prague." And Elijah's one of the best actors Dom has ever met, but he doesn't come close to pulling off the line, and it makes Dom ache a little.
"We'll figure it out," he says. "I haven't seen you get shit-faced and spew all over the sidewalk in Prague yet. Can't miss out on that." He pulls Elijah in for one more hug, brushing a kiss across the side of his mouth, and says, "Call me from SXSW."
"Will do," Elijah replies, and Dom tightens his grip for a moment before letting go.
***
It's nearly three a.m. by the time Dom gets away, and he's drunker than he had intended to be. Not quite drunk enough to accept the ride home Hilary offers, though, or maybe just not quite shameless enough to ask her to drop him off at Shox's. He drives slowly down Sunset, trying to concentrate on the road as thoughts of Shox's lips and tongue and cock assault his brain.
He's more than half hard by the time he reaches his destination. He knocks for a good two minutes, cursing under his breath, suddenly afraid that Shox has passed out on the couch again. He doesn't have his spare set of keys with him, and he's in no shape to drive home for it. But then Shox yanks the door open, barefoot and shirtless, and Dom's breath catches in his throat.
"You're late," Shox says. His voice is a low growl, the way it only gets after shows or when he's been smoking too much, that never fails to turn Dom's knees liquid. His eyes slide down to Dom's groin, and he smiles. "Wanna make it up to me?"
"Fuck yes," Dom breathes, and Shox hooks his fingers into Dom's belt loops and yanks him inside, slamming the door behind them.
"Well?" Shox says, and Dom drops to his knees without another word, rubs his face against the hard ridge in Shox's jeans. He groans aloud at the heat, scalding even through the denim, at the growing hardness and the smell making his mouth water.
"Fuck," he says again. He mouths Shox's cock through the denim, teasing them both for a moment before forcing himself to pull back just far enough to jerk open Shox's jeans. As Shox's cock spills out, he reflects for possibly the thousandth time just how much he appreciates the fact that Shox doesn't wear pants, but he's too busy diving back in, moaning even before he gets his tongue on it, to give voice to the thought. He laps quickly at the pre-come shining on the head before opening his mouth and swallowing Shox down, sucking hard.
The choked, breathy sound Shox makes goes straight to Dom's cock, and he groans around his mouthful, reaching between his legs to jerk himself off as he sucks. "Oh, no," Shox says, laughing roughly. He hooks his fingers into Dom's hair and yanks Dom back, and Dom whines before he can help himself. Shox's cock, flushed and hard and leaking, is two inches from his face; he can smell it, still taste it on his tongue. He tries to dive back in, but Shox yanks harder, and Dom is trapped. "No touching, Dommie-boy. I'm all you get," he says.
Dom groans, more with frustration than with lust, but he wraps his hands around Shox's thick thighs and opens his mouth gratefully as Shox guides him forward. Dom's cock is pulsing in his jeans, desperate for touch, but he does his best to ignore it as Shox's cock pushes past his lips. He considers scraping his teeth over the sensitive head, or at the very least teasing, soft licks, too-gentle sucks, because Shox is way too smug when he gets his own way without at least a little resistance, but his own hunger betrays him -- he wants that beautiful cock as far down his throat at he can get it. He sucks as hard as he can, and when he feels Shox throb against his tongue, feels his cock shudder in his mouth, he pulls back all at once, so Shox comes across his face.
Shox looks down at him, on his knees, come dripping down his face, and says, "You're such a fucking nasty slut." And Dom can't help it... he purrs, too far gone for anything resembling shame. "Get up," Shox says, and Dom staggers to his feet, but Shox doesn't even give him time to stand completely before pushing him against the wall, leaning in to suck his come off Dom's lips, lick it back into his mouth.
Dom laps the come from Shox's tongue eagerly, driving his hips desperately against Shox's thigh, but Shox pulls back, just out of reach, ignoring Dom's anguished moan, and then he reaches forward, gathers the rest of his come from Dom's face, and feeds it to him, thick fingers slide effortlessly between his lips.
Dom moans harder, sucking and licking Shox's fingers, jerking his hips against every air as he tries to capture every drop, and when Shox removes his fingers, he gasps out, "Fuck me."
And Shox smiles, playful, cruel, and says, "Beg me."
Dom says, "Fuck you."
Shox laughs, hoarse but completely in control, and says, "You're going to have to do a lot better than that." He reaches forward and presses his palm against Dom's erection, and Dom grinds into it, helpless, before Shox yanks his hand away and pins Dom to the wall again. "Beg me," he says again.
Dom says, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, please," and Shox smiles pleasantly.
"I'm sorry, Dom, did you want something?"
And Dom says, "Just fucking fuck me, you unbelievable goddamn cunt."
Shox laughs and yanks open the clasp on Dom's jeans, jerks them down around Dom's thighs, then turns him around, roughly, positions him against the wall. He says, "Keep your hands on the fucking wall. You reach for your cock, and I stop, " and Dom whimpers and groans and claws at the wall. He hears Shox spit and then he shouts, half pain, half unbelievable pleasure, as Shox forces two spit-slicked fingers into him, blunt and thick, no preparation at all.
Dom pushes his hips back, tries to take more, and Shox is laughing again, and he thinks he calls him a slut again but he can't be sure because after a few quick thrusts, Shox is removing his fingers and Dom is whimpering at the loss of contact, the loss of sensation, and he says, "Please, Shox, fucking please, I need your cock, just fucking fuck me, please, fuck me," and Shox finally takes pity, positions his cock and slams in hard.
Dom nearly screams, pushing back into Shox's thrusts. His own cock is neglected, aching, but it's almost an afterthought at the moment with Shox inside him, Shox rumbling obscenities as he fills Dom, stretches him, uses him like Dom needs to be used. He can hear himself groaning, low and painful, hear Shox's labored breathing in between curses, and he wants to come so badly he thinks he could die from it, but he's helpless, his hands as unable to move as if they were bound to wall, and he gasps out, "Shox.... I need..."
Shox says, "What do you need, Dommie?" and he's practically fucking purring, and he shouldn't be that fucking in control when he's buried to the hilt to Dom's ass. Dom clamps down viciously, milking Shox with his body, but while he can feel the tremor that runs through Shox, Shox's voice stays steady. "Tell me."
Shox's hands tighten on Dom's hips. He's going to leave bruises, and that thought alone sends Dom spiraling closer to the edge. "Shit... Shox, please, just... fuck" -- as Shox thrusts particularly hard -- "Fuck, please, let me come, just let me..." And Shox reaches forward, wraps his hand around Dom's cock as he sinks his teeth into Dom's shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and jerks him hard. Dom shudders and cries out and comes, splattering across Shox's hand and the wall in front of him. He dimly hears Shox's shout, feels Shox's cock shudder inside him, but he's too busy riding out the waves of his own orgasm to pay much attention.
Shox pulls out and steps back, and Dom slumps against the wall, too spent to support his own weight. "You came on my fucking wall," Shox says, and Dom laughs breathlessly. "Should make you lick it off."
He's pretty sure Shox isn't serious, pretty sure he's just taking the piss, and he says, "In your wet dreams," but when he feels Shox's hands on his shoulder pushing him down to his knees, he goes willingly.
"Do it," Shox says, and it's not quite an order, not quite a request. "Lick it clean for me," and Dom groans and bends forward, licks his own come off Shox's fucking wall while Shox stands watching him.
When the wall is clean, all traces of come gone, he sits back on his heels. He's both flatly humiliated and so turned on he thinks he could come again in a matter of minutes, and he doesn't turn around, doesn't want to meet Shox's eyes. But then Shox is dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms around Dom and whispering, "Baby," opening Dom's mouth with his own for a long, thorough kiss. When Shox finally pulls back, he says, "That was so fucking hot," and then, "You kind of taste like paint."
Dom would flip him off, or say something truly withering, but Shox is kissing him again, hands kneading his shoulders and back, and he sinks into it, reveling in the feel of Shox's hard body against him, the taste of Shox in his mouth obliterating the flat dull taste of the paint.
Shox breaks the kiss long enough to ask, "You gonna stay?" and then dives back in again before Dom can answer -- long seconds pass before Dom can gasp out, "You gonna kick me out at the crack of dawn again?"
And Shox grins and says, "I think I'll keep you around for awhile," and gets to his feet, takes Dom's hand and pulls him up, and leads him to the bedroom.