Fic: Overturned (Joaquin/Kelly) NC17
Title: Overturned
Pairing: Joaquin Phoenix/Kelly Donovan (Noodle Verse)
Rating: NC17
Note: Noodle Verse fic, set after the boys get together.
Written For: ladycat777, who expressed interest in this scenario when I mentioned it in passing. Enjoy your holidy fic present, sweetie!
Summary: Janitor closet pr0n. Really, that's all you need to know.
*
The party isn't an industry event. It's something Balthazar invited Joaquin to, which means it's a little classier, a lot less wild, and a whole lot more boring than the parties and premieres and shit that Joaquin usually attends. It's being held at some trendy chic gallery-cum-upscale nightclub and the point of it, if Joaquin remembers correctly--which he probably doesn't--is to celebrate the fact that the place is going to open to the public in a week.
Joaquin makes his way inside and finds Balthazar almost immediately, gives him a hug, asks after his wife, then wanders off under the pretense of getting a drink. In reality, it's Kelly that takes Joaquin away.
After all this time, Joaquin knows Kelly's routine. He knows how things usually go, and he knows when Kelly is going to break routine to try to keep him on his toes, and he knows that tonight Kelly arrived at the party before he did.
Joaquin can feel Kelly's presence, pounding under his skin, but Kelly is being particularly sneaky, and every time Joaquin tries to find him he only catches motion blurred glimpses of Kelly's profile, the back of his head, before Kelly lets himself be swallowed up by the crowd.
Kelly likes teasing him like this, and Joaquin doesn't much mind it, so he gives Kelly this. Lets Kelly flitter through the room, disappearing randomly before the pounding starts under Joaquin's skin again, and eventually Kelly winds down, starts staying still long enough for Joaquin's eyes to meet his across the room, or ten feet away.
The game goes on half the night until Joaquin realizes, with something like awe, that it doesn't have to play out the same way it always does. He would kick himself for being a thickheaded moron too used to holding back, but he's too busy anticipating what's about to happen.
Joaquin turns the tables on Kelly. Melts into the crowd the next time they make eye contact, does his own disappearing and reappearing act. Sidles up alongside Kelly, brushes a hand down the side of his neck, and is gone again before Kelly looks around. Sneaks up behind him, grinds his crotch against Kelly's ass under the pretense of squeezing past him to the bar.
They stare at each in the mirror behind the bar and Kelly's eyes narrow when Joaquin leans forward to quietly order something from the bartender. When the shot of Tequila is set in front of Joaquin, he watches Kelly's lips part in the mirror.
Joaquin doesn’t look away as he tosses back the shot, and Kelly's face is flushed and his eyes are black, and Joaquin sees the move coming before Kelly even realizes it himself; when Kelly's arm reaches out, Joaquin's already three feet away.
He does a quick circle, comes up behind Kelly. "What'd you scope out, Kelly?" Joaquin whispers, because this is Kelly and there's no way his first order of business wasn't finding a place to lure Joaquin to.
Kelly shivers, makes a noise at the back of his throat. "Janitor's closet by the men's room," he answers. His voice breaks three times during the sentence and Joaquin smirks.
"Go. I'll be right behind you." He gives Kelly a push and watches Kelly move through the crowd, dazed and clumsy but eager, and Joaquin laughs, loudly enough that people turn to look at him. He ignores them, counts to ten, then follows Kelly.
The door to the janitor's closet isn't closed enough for the door to latch, and Joaquin pushes it inwards, steps inside quickly and shuts it behind him. Kelly is a barely lit shadow in the dim room, and Joaquin leans against the door, waits for his eyes to adjust to the lighting.
The room's small, cramped, and lined with shelves filled with cleaning chemicals and supplies. But there's a counter along the wall to Joaquin's left, and it's been cleared off and covered with a tablecloth.
His eyes get entirely adjusted to the sparse light from the bare bulb overhead, and Joaquin moves forward when he can see the flush on Kelly's face, the way his hands are shaking lightly. He's put Kelly entirely off-balance and it won't last long because Kelly adapts so damn quickly. Joaquin takes advantage of the little time he has, steps up close to Kelly and winds his arms around Kelly's waist, pulls him in close, licks his lips.
"When the fuck did you get good at this?" Kelly demands to know.
"I've always been good at this, Kelly," Joaquin says with a laugh and a thrust of his hips. "Just couldn't play until now." He licks the side of Kelly's neck, bites the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Kelly gasps and arches against him. Joaquin pushes him towards the counter. "Mm, I'm gonna fuck you stupid."
He lifts his face, sucks at Kelly's lips, and Kelly's mouth just falls open under his, tongue coming out to tangle with Joaquin's, and when Joaquin presses him against the edge of the counter, Kelly freezes and pulls his mouth away.
"Wait--hold on," he says thickly, and loudly. "You mean here? Now?"
Joaquin lifts his brows, grins, says, "Yes, and if you can't keep your voice down I'm going to have to gag you."
Kelly's eyes go wider than Joaquin's ever seen them go before. "But--you--this--"
"Wasn't that your plan?" Joaquin blinks innocently and then digs his hands in the pockets of Kelly's black trousers, pulls out a string of condoms from the left one, and a packet of lube from the right one. He holds them up and Kelly stares blankly at them, then at Joaquin. "Sex. Here. Now," Joaquin reminds him with a laugh. "That was your plan, right?"
"Of course that was my plan," Kelly hisses. "It's always my plan, but you never--"
"You're one sentence away from talking yourself out of fast, rough, nasty sex in a semi-public place." Kelly makes a strangled noise and clamps his lips shut; Joaquin nuzzles his ear. "Good boy. And I mean that in an entirely perverted way."
Kelly grabs the sides of his face, pulls it up and kisses him, hard, frantic, urgent, sucking at Joaquin's tongue, and Joaquin rolls and slides his hips. "Fuck," Kelly gasps and his hands slip into Joaquin's hair, hold on tight. "Oh, Jesus, Joaquin."
Joaquin turns Kelly around, grinds against his ass, and Kelly's hands grip the edges of the counter so hard his knuckles go white. Joaquin drops the condoms and lube down, brushes his fingers against Kelly's, then reaches down and opens Kelly's pants.
"Sh," Joaquin says when Kelly groans loudly, and he bites the back of Kelly's neck, hard and quick; Kelly freezes for a split second before falling forward, over the counter, one hand pressed against his mouth to muffle the noises he's making.
"That's supposed to make me keep quiet?" Kelly rasps when he can talk again.
"No, I just like the way you shove your ass against my dick when I do that," Joaquin admits, voice rough, and he swallows a groan of his own when Kelly pushes back again, this time deliberately. Joaquin lowers Kelly's pants, his boxers, strokes his shirt-clad back. "Get comfy, Kelly."
"I'm not going to last long."
"Me neither," Joaquin breathes, staring down and dragging his hands up Kelly's thighs, to his ass.
"Oh yeah," Kelly sighs, and he folds his arms, turns his head to the side and rests it on them. His face is blissful, happy, eager, and Joaquin swallows dryly and pushes Kelly's shirt up his back, runs his hands along the exposed skin and his eyes close for a moment when Kelly pushes up into the touch.
Joaquin reaches for a condom, tears it open, and leans down to lick a strip up Kelly's spine while he slips it on Kelly's dick.
"You're insane if you think I'll be able to return the favor." His hips push forward, working his dick into Joaquin's hand. "Fuck! God, I've been hard for hours."
There's all this skin in front of Joaquin and he wants to take his time with it almost as much as he wants to already be in Kelly, fucking him stupid, and he tries for both. He bends down, sucks a mark in the center of Kelly's back while he gets his own pants and boxers down, pulls a condom on himself and tears open the lube packet. Kelly is writhing under him, voice stifled and sharp and needy, and Joaquin pulls his mouth away with a scrape of his teeth that has Kelly turning his head, biting his own forearm to stay quiet.
"You ready, Kelly?" Joaquin murmurs and slathers the lube on his dick, nudges at Kelly's hole.
"Joaquin!" Kelly snaps, craning his head back to glare. "You goddamn teasing bast--ohohohohoh!"
Joaquin pauses, the head of his dick inside of Kelly, his hands clenched on Kelly's hips. "You good?"
"I'm great," Kelly slurs.
Joaquin smiles, pets Kelly's hips before holding on tight again when Kelly starts pushing back, opening around Joaquin's dick and taking it in, making these fucking beautiful little noises as he goes, and then Joaquin's all the way in and the only thing he's aware of in the world is how tight and hot Kelly is around him, how completely inside of Kelly he is.
"Yeah, oh, yeah. Do it now, fuck me. Like you said. No teasing."
"No teasing," Joaquin says faintly, tongue coming out to lick at his dry lips, and then it hits him, that he's inside Kelly in this tiny room right by the men's bathroom--and he can hear people passing by the door, now that he thinks about it--and Kelly is bent over for him, tense and waiting and growling, and Joaquin's hips start moving. Fast, hard, rough, just like he promised, snapping forward and back, and he might end up biting through his lip to keep quiet but he doesn't give a fuck, because he's lost track of how many times Kelly tried to make something like this happen, how many times Joaquin was tempted but had to refuse, resist.
He moves one hand from Kelly's hips, grabs his shoulder instead, and pulls Kelly back as he shoves forward, bends his knees a bit, changes the angle, and Kelly's head arches back, mouth open, face twisted in pleasure, and Joaquin fucks him harder, faster, sweat pouring down his own face, his lower lip getting mangled by his own teeth.
Kelly braces himself on one arm, reaches for himself with his free hand, and Joaquin's eyes squeeze shut and his hips go go go, push push push, and he knows Kelly's close, he can tell and feel, and he just has to hold out a little longer, just a little--
And then Kelly convulses around his dick, violent and hard, and Joaquin's eyes fly open to stare at Kelly's profile, see the pleasurepain that contorts it as he comes, and Joaquin fucks him with selfish intent now, and Kelly's always looser, more open after he comes, and he's still got aftershocks tearing through him that ripple around Joaquin's dick, and fucking Kelly is always an experience, but here and now and like this--it's too much, and Joaquin can't hold back.
When Joaquin comes, he lets go of Kelly's hip, shoves his hand over his mouth, and almost screams from how hard it's ripped from him, from how good it feels, and then he's slumping over Kelly's back, panting against his skin, wondering if he's ever going to be able to move again.
He slips out of Kelly a minute later, when his body isn't shaking any longer, and Kelly makes a noise of protest, and Joaquin kisses his back, forces himself to stand up. "Come on," Joaquin says reluctantly, quietly, touching Kelly's back. "We'll be missed."
"No, you'll be missed," Kelly says and pillows his face on his arms again, sighs happily. "I can stay right here as long as I want."
Joaquin looks down at him, bent over the counter, pants around his knees, and snorts. Smacks his ass lightly. "Yeah, I don't think so. Someone might wander in and decide they want a piece of you. Get up."
With much grumbling and complaining Kelly pulls himself upright, turns around and leans against the counter looking rumpled, and fucked. Joaquin takes the condom off himself, gets Kelly's off of him, and Kelly gives him a grateful look. Whether it's for doing it, or for having put it on in the first place so Kelly wouldn't come all over his clothes, is anyone's guess.
Kelly bends down, pulls up his pants and boxers, wincing and smiling, and Joaquin tosses the condoms in a pail on the floor, tucks himself away. Waits for Kelly to stand up again, then leans against him. "Hey," he breathes, and Kelly laughs in his ear.
"Hey yourself. Want to tell me what brought that on? So I can make sure it happens again?"
Joaquin straightens Kelly's shirt, smoothes it down, then shrugs and smirks. "Those pants do good things for your ass," he says and Kelly laughs again, hits him in the chest. Joaquin catches his hand, leans his forehead against Kelly's, and he doesn't want to go back out there and pretend he doesn't know Kelly. Not after this, and not when Kelly's soft and sated and already trying to wrap himself around Joaquin. "Let's go. Leave, I mean; I've shown my face long enough. Unless you want to stick around?"
Kelly shakes his head. "No. I kinda got what I came here for."
Joaquin kisses him, soft and easy, and Kelly makes a contented noise and Joaquin smiles against his mouth.
.End
Pairing: Joaquin Phoenix/Kelly Donovan (Noodle Verse)
Rating: NC17
Note: Noodle Verse fic, set after the boys get together.
Written For: ladycat777, who expressed interest in this scenario when I mentioned it in passing. Enjoy your holidy fic present, sweetie!
Summary: Janitor closet pr0n. Really, that's all you need to know.
*
The party isn't an industry event. It's something Balthazar invited Joaquin to, which means it's a little classier, a lot less wild, and a whole lot more boring than the parties and premieres and shit that Joaquin usually attends. It's being held at some trendy chic gallery-cum-upscale nightclub and the point of it, if Joaquin remembers correctly--which he probably doesn't--is to celebrate the fact that the place is going to open to the public in a week.
Joaquin makes his way inside and finds Balthazar almost immediately, gives him a hug, asks after his wife, then wanders off under the pretense of getting a drink. In reality, it's Kelly that takes Joaquin away.
After all this time, Joaquin knows Kelly's routine. He knows how things usually go, and he knows when Kelly is going to break routine to try to keep him on his toes, and he knows that tonight Kelly arrived at the party before he did.
Joaquin can feel Kelly's presence, pounding under his skin, but Kelly is being particularly sneaky, and every time Joaquin tries to find him he only catches motion blurred glimpses of Kelly's profile, the back of his head, before Kelly lets himself be swallowed up by the crowd.
Kelly likes teasing him like this, and Joaquin doesn't much mind it, so he gives Kelly this. Lets Kelly flitter through the room, disappearing randomly before the pounding starts under Joaquin's skin again, and eventually Kelly winds down, starts staying still long enough for Joaquin's eyes to meet his across the room, or ten feet away.
The game goes on half the night until Joaquin realizes, with something like awe, that it doesn't have to play out the same way it always does. He would kick himself for being a thickheaded moron too used to holding back, but he's too busy anticipating what's about to happen.
Joaquin turns the tables on Kelly. Melts into the crowd the next time they make eye contact, does his own disappearing and reappearing act. Sidles up alongside Kelly, brushes a hand down the side of his neck, and is gone again before Kelly looks around. Sneaks up behind him, grinds his crotch against Kelly's ass under the pretense of squeezing past him to the bar.
They stare at each in the mirror behind the bar and Kelly's eyes narrow when Joaquin leans forward to quietly order something from the bartender. When the shot of Tequila is set in front of Joaquin, he watches Kelly's lips part in the mirror.
Joaquin doesn’t look away as he tosses back the shot, and Kelly's face is flushed and his eyes are black, and Joaquin sees the move coming before Kelly even realizes it himself; when Kelly's arm reaches out, Joaquin's already three feet away.
He does a quick circle, comes up behind Kelly. "What'd you scope out, Kelly?" Joaquin whispers, because this is Kelly and there's no way his first order of business wasn't finding a place to lure Joaquin to.
Kelly shivers, makes a noise at the back of his throat. "Janitor's closet by the men's room," he answers. His voice breaks three times during the sentence and Joaquin smirks.
"Go. I'll be right behind you." He gives Kelly a push and watches Kelly move through the crowd, dazed and clumsy but eager, and Joaquin laughs, loudly enough that people turn to look at him. He ignores them, counts to ten, then follows Kelly.
The door to the janitor's closet isn't closed enough for the door to latch, and Joaquin pushes it inwards, steps inside quickly and shuts it behind him. Kelly is a barely lit shadow in the dim room, and Joaquin leans against the door, waits for his eyes to adjust to the lighting.
The room's small, cramped, and lined with shelves filled with cleaning chemicals and supplies. But there's a counter along the wall to Joaquin's left, and it's been cleared off and covered with a tablecloth.
His eyes get entirely adjusted to the sparse light from the bare bulb overhead, and Joaquin moves forward when he can see the flush on Kelly's face, the way his hands are shaking lightly. He's put Kelly entirely off-balance and it won't last long because Kelly adapts so damn quickly. Joaquin takes advantage of the little time he has, steps up close to Kelly and winds his arms around Kelly's waist, pulls him in close, licks his lips.
"When the fuck did you get good at this?" Kelly demands to know.
"I've always been good at this, Kelly," Joaquin says with a laugh and a thrust of his hips. "Just couldn't play until now." He licks the side of Kelly's neck, bites the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Kelly gasps and arches against him. Joaquin pushes him towards the counter. "Mm, I'm gonna fuck you stupid."
He lifts his face, sucks at Kelly's lips, and Kelly's mouth just falls open under his, tongue coming out to tangle with Joaquin's, and when Joaquin presses him against the edge of the counter, Kelly freezes and pulls his mouth away.
"Wait--hold on," he says thickly, and loudly. "You mean here? Now?"
Joaquin lifts his brows, grins, says, "Yes, and if you can't keep your voice down I'm going to have to gag you."
Kelly's eyes go wider than Joaquin's ever seen them go before. "But--you--this--"
"Wasn't that your plan?" Joaquin blinks innocently and then digs his hands in the pockets of Kelly's black trousers, pulls out a string of condoms from the left one, and a packet of lube from the right one. He holds them up and Kelly stares blankly at them, then at Joaquin. "Sex. Here. Now," Joaquin reminds him with a laugh. "That was your plan, right?"
"Of course that was my plan," Kelly hisses. "It's always my plan, but you never--"
"You're one sentence away from talking yourself out of fast, rough, nasty sex in a semi-public place." Kelly makes a strangled noise and clamps his lips shut; Joaquin nuzzles his ear. "Good boy. And I mean that in an entirely perverted way."
Kelly grabs the sides of his face, pulls it up and kisses him, hard, frantic, urgent, sucking at Joaquin's tongue, and Joaquin rolls and slides his hips. "Fuck," Kelly gasps and his hands slip into Joaquin's hair, hold on tight. "Oh, Jesus, Joaquin."
Joaquin turns Kelly around, grinds against his ass, and Kelly's hands grip the edges of the counter so hard his knuckles go white. Joaquin drops the condoms and lube down, brushes his fingers against Kelly's, then reaches down and opens Kelly's pants.
"Sh," Joaquin says when Kelly groans loudly, and he bites the back of Kelly's neck, hard and quick; Kelly freezes for a split second before falling forward, over the counter, one hand pressed against his mouth to muffle the noises he's making.
"That's supposed to make me keep quiet?" Kelly rasps when he can talk again.
"No, I just like the way you shove your ass against my dick when I do that," Joaquin admits, voice rough, and he swallows a groan of his own when Kelly pushes back again, this time deliberately. Joaquin lowers Kelly's pants, his boxers, strokes his shirt-clad back. "Get comfy, Kelly."
"I'm not going to last long."
"Me neither," Joaquin breathes, staring down and dragging his hands up Kelly's thighs, to his ass.
"Oh yeah," Kelly sighs, and he folds his arms, turns his head to the side and rests it on them. His face is blissful, happy, eager, and Joaquin swallows dryly and pushes Kelly's shirt up his back, runs his hands along the exposed skin and his eyes close for a moment when Kelly pushes up into the touch.
Joaquin reaches for a condom, tears it open, and leans down to lick a strip up Kelly's spine while he slips it on Kelly's dick.
"You're insane if you think I'll be able to return the favor." His hips push forward, working his dick into Joaquin's hand. "Fuck! God, I've been hard for hours."
There's all this skin in front of Joaquin and he wants to take his time with it almost as much as he wants to already be in Kelly, fucking him stupid, and he tries for both. He bends down, sucks a mark in the center of Kelly's back while he gets his own pants and boxers down, pulls a condom on himself and tears open the lube packet. Kelly is writhing under him, voice stifled and sharp and needy, and Joaquin pulls his mouth away with a scrape of his teeth that has Kelly turning his head, biting his own forearm to stay quiet.
"You ready, Kelly?" Joaquin murmurs and slathers the lube on his dick, nudges at Kelly's hole.
"Joaquin!" Kelly snaps, craning his head back to glare. "You goddamn teasing bast--ohohohohoh!"
Joaquin pauses, the head of his dick inside of Kelly, his hands clenched on Kelly's hips. "You good?"
"I'm great," Kelly slurs.
Joaquin smiles, pets Kelly's hips before holding on tight again when Kelly starts pushing back, opening around Joaquin's dick and taking it in, making these fucking beautiful little noises as he goes, and then Joaquin's all the way in and the only thing he's aware of in the world is how tight and hot Kelly is around him, how completely inside of Kelly he is.
"Yeah, oh, yeah. Do it now, fuck me. Like you said. No teasing."
"No teasing," Joaquin says faintly, tongue coming out to lick at his dry lips, and then it hits him, that he's inside Kelly in this tiny room right by the men's bathroom--and he can hear people passing by the door, now that he thinks about it--and Kelly is bent over for him, tense and waiting and growling, and Joaquin's hips start moving. Fast, hard, rough, just like he promised, snapping forward and back, and he might end up biting through his lip to keep quiet but he doesn't give a fuck, because he's lost track of how many times Kelly tried to make something like this happen, how many times Joaquin was tempted but had to refuse, resist.
He moves one hand from Kelly's hips, grabs his shoulder instead, and pulls Kelly back as he shoves forward, bends his knees a bit, changes the angle, and Kelly's head arches back, mouth open, face twisted in pleasure, and Joaquin fucks him harder, faster, sweat pouring down his own face, his lower lip getting mangled by his own teeth.
Kelly braces himself on one arm, reaches for himself with his free hand, and Joaquin's eyes squeeze shut and his hips go go go, push push push, and he knows Kelly's close, he can tell and feel, and he just has to hold out a little longer, just a little--
And then Kelly convulses around his dick, violent and hard, and Joaquin's eyes fly open to stare at Kelly's profile, see the pleasurepain that contorts it as he comes, and Joaquin fucks him with selfish intent now, and Kelly's always looser, more open after he comes, and he's still got aftershocks tearing through him that ripple around Joaquin's dick, and fucking Kelly is always an experience, but here and now and like this--it's too much, and Joaquin can't hold back.
When Joaquin comes, he lets go of Kelly's hip, shoves his hand over his mouth, and almost screams from how hard it's ripped from him, from how good it feels, and then he's slumping over Kelly's back, panting against his skin, wondering if he's ever going to be able to move again.
He slips out of Kelly a minute later, when his body isn't shaking any longer, and Kelly makes a noise of protest, and Joaquin kisses his back, forces himself to stand up. "Come on," Joaquin says reluctantly, quietly, touching Kelly's back. "We'll be missed."
"No, you'll be missed," Kelly says and pillows his face on his arms again, sighs happily. "I can stay right here as long as I want."
Joaquin looks down at him, bent over the counter, pants around his knees, and snorts. Smacks his ass lightly. "Yeah, I don't think so. Someone might wander in and decide they want a piece of you. Get up."
With much grumbling and complaining Kelly pulls himself upright, turns around and leans against the counter looking rumpled, and fucked. Joaquin takes the condom off himself, gets Kelly's off of him, and Kelly gives him a grateful look. Whether it's for doing it, or for having put it on in the first place so Kelly wouldn't come all over his clothes, is anyone's guess.
Kelly bends down, pulls up his pants and boxers, wincing and smiling, and Joaquin tosses the condoms in a pail on the floor, tucks himself away. Waits for Kelly to stand up again, then leans against him. "Hey," he breathes, and Kelly laughs in his ear.
"Hey yourself. Want to tell me what brought that on? So I can make sure it happens again?"
Joaquin straightens Kelly's shirt, smoothes it down, then shrugs and smirks. "Those pants do good things for your ass," he says and Kelly laughs again, hits him in the chest. Joaquin catches his hand, leans his forehead against Kelly's, and he doesn't want to go back out there and pretend he doesn't know Kelly. Not after this, and not when Kelly's soft and sated and already trying to wrap himself around Joaquin. "Let's go. Leave, I mean; I've shown my face long enough. Unless you want to stick around?"
Kelly shakes his head. "No. I kinda got what I came here for."
Joaquin kisses him, soft and easy, and Kelly makes a contented noise and Joaquin smiles against his mouth.
.End