Reparable Differences; Jepha/Matt, NC-17
Reparable Differences
By Eleanor_lavish
Jepha Howard (The Used)/ Matt Taylor (Motion City Soundtrack)
NC-17, 3K
Don't know them, made this up.
Notes: There is no reason this should exist, except that I love them both, and needed it for my HEART. Bassist love, people! Thanks to Sky, Fi and Lovelypoet for the encouragement and beta.
Summary: "I know sometimes it's maybe not enough," Matt says, his fingers tracing lines along Jepha's arm, totally out of sync with his tattoos. "I know sometimes it's probably too much," Jepha smiles back, and Matt just presses closer.
It's late by the time they make it back to the bus. The meet and greet crush was more insane than normal, with venue security made up almost entirely of guys over 50 who didn't do much beyond yelling for order (and not actually getting any). There were a few great kids though, the ones whose eyes shine when they shake Matt's hand, or who say "seriously, thank you" and mean it. Those ones always make it worth it, even when all Matt wants is a hot shower and his bunk.
It's chilly out, and Matt stuffs his hands in his pockets as they trudge up the bus steps.
Tony stops dead in front of him and Matt says "Whoa!" with a laugh, almost running into his back. "Two more steps, man, come on, you can make it," he goads, but Tony is already shifting out of the way.
"Someone left you a present," he says with a grin in his voice, and before Matt can see over his shoulder, he's being gathered up into a full body hug.
"Hey," Jepha's lips buzz against his neck and Matt's arms tighten around his shoulders reflexively.
"Fuck," Matt breathes as Jeph's hands palm over his lower back, pull him closer. "What the fuck, Jepha," he manages, but he's not even a little mad.
"Missed you," Jepha says, not letting go, and Matt can distantly hear Tony on his cell, shuffling back down the steps, presumably over to the other bus. They stand like that for a long time, just holding on, before Jepha pulls back enough to brush his nose against Matt's. "Made you some tea, but its probably cold."
"That's what microwaves are for," Matt grins and Jepha kisses him once, twice on the lips before breaking away.
*
"You know you just got off tour," Matt says around the lip of his mug. Jepha settles in closer to his side, tucks the blanket around where Matt's feet are sitting in Jeph's lap. "And we're getting to Salt Lake in, what," he stops to do the math, "two weeks?"
"Home's boring," he says. "Besides, your bus smells way fucking better than ours did." Matt laughs and sighs as Jepha's fingers worm their way under Matt's hem, fingers warm on his side. "Seriously, what is that smell?"
"Glade Plug-ins," Matt says with a shake of his head. "They're five bucks, man. I'll send you some for next time."
"Excellent," Jepha sighs.
"Seriously, though," Matt digs his toes into Jeph's thigh. "You flew to Michigan."
"Tomorrow's Chicago," Jepha says, like that means anything. Matt blinks at him. "Tomorrow's a hotel night," Jepha tries again, the pad of his thumb running in a rough arc over Matt's ribcage, and Matt can feel his blush.
"Oh," Matt says, and Jepha leans in kiss his shoulder, his neck.
"Jesus, Matty, can you not play the blushing virgin until we actually get there, because now you're just being a tease."
"Fucker," Matt grins, and he can still feel the warmth in his cheeks, and on his neck where Jepha's mouth is sucking hard enough to bruise. "Hey, hey, I have a show tomorrow."
"So you'll have to wear something sexy with a collar," Jepha shrugs and Matt gives up arguing when Jepha crawls into his lap and grinds down.
"Collar as in polo shirt, or collar as in leather?" Matt asks, and slides his hands up under the back of Jepha's worn red tshirt.
"Either." Jepha bites at Matt's jaw, his earlobe, before using his teeth to tug at Matt's lip ring.
"Don't let me interrupt!" Justin says, his voice way louder than necessary in the confines of the bus. Matt blushes again and Jepha just kisses him and flips Justin off with the hand not under Matt's shirt. "Dude, it is my bus," Justin says with a huff, and Matt laughs.
"It's cool, you can stay," Matt says and Justin just flaps his hands and runs to the bunks.
"I'm just, you know, getting out of the way," he calls up front, and Matt shoves Jepha back on the couch and gets up, stretching enough that his spine pops.
"Seriously, stay," Matt says, leaning on the doorframe of the hallway. Justin turns to give him a suspicious look. "We're just going to sleep!"
"Uh-huh," Justin grins, and Matt throws an empty water bottle at him.
"Sleeping. That's it," Matt says, crossing his arms. Jepha sighs dramatically from the couch and Justin grins wider.
"Well in that case, I'm putting on my PJs!"
*
"Seriously, you can," Tony says quietly in his ear as Matt's popping popcorn. "That's why God invented earbuds."
"We won't," Matt replies.
"You could though," Tony presses, and Matt just rolls his eyes. "Fine, but don't say I wasn't looking out for you!"
"You're the best," Matt tells him, and presses a smacking kiss to his cheek. "But you seriously don't want us having sex on this bus." Of course he says it a little too loudly, and Justin looks up from his UNO cards.
"Okay, now I'm just intrigued," he says and Jepha throws popcorn at him.
*
He should see it coming, but he doesn't. They're halfway through "Future" and the whole auditorium is clapping along with Justin and his dorktastic countdown to the bridge, and all of a sudden the screaming gets louder in pockets and Jepha is at his elbow with one of Matt's basses. "What the fuck," Matt mouths at him, already grinning, and Jeph nods across the stage to Jesse, who gives him a double thumbs up and points to the crowd. It's Chicago, so there is an actual pit, boys moshing into each other and girls with fried hair pushing right back.
Matt jogs across the stage as Justin leads everyone in song, and by the time he gets to Jesse's Moog, Jesse's already at the edge of the stage, singing along at the top of his lungs, arms flailing wildly. Matt plays with a lot more concentration than he's used to-its been months since he even touched a Moog-but when he finally looks up, Jepha's playing bass with his head thrown back, mouth open, and Jesse's taking a running leap into the crowd. It's insane, and amazing, and the crowd goes nuts, and Matt just starts laughing. Jepha looks over and winks at him, and Matt just shakes his head.
They finally get Jesse back ten minutes later, after the crowd surfs him all the way to the back of the pit and around. "You're mad," Matt yells at him, and Jepha adds "I like this guy!" Jesse just lays on the floor backstage and pants, but Matt hasn't seen him this happy in months.
"Thanks," he says quietly to Jepha and Jepha just squeezes his hip.
"You can thank me later," he replies, low in Matt's ear, and Matt can't help the little shiver down his spine.
*
Matt's never been that guy in the bedroom. He's the nice guy. The vanilla guy. The first time he hooked up with Jepha, he had a moment of quiet freakout when he tugged Jepha's jeans down to discover that more of him was pierced than Matt really would have guessed. It didn't stop him from blowing Jeph, though, in the back of a bus that didn't belong to either of them, on Warped. His teeth caught once on Jepha's piercing, and Matt almost came in his pants from the moan Jepha let out. He didn't apologize after.
Jepha's kinky-Jepha's really kinky-and Matt just… isn't, and he worries a lot at the beginning. But they go in baby steps. Jepha doesn't seem too bummed when Matt says there is no way he's just going to hit Jepha as hard as he can. Jepha seems downright thrilled when Matt decides he's actually really okay with tying Jepha up. (Matt is actually equally surprised, and thinks maybe he's more a chocolate chip than a vanilla.) Matt's totally on board with hair pulling, and nipple clamps turn out to be a lot less weird than he thought they'd be. They also have a lot of nights where its just them without any frills-slow, intense nights where Jepha fucks Matt for nearly an hour, face pressed into the crook of his neck, just muttering nonsense into his skin. Or nights when Jepha tugs them out of their clothes and into a big, hot bathtub, and they just make out like teenagers until their fingers look like prunes.
They talk about it a lot, mostly because Jepha talks about everything. Not like Justin does, with self-deprecating comments and wild gestures, but with wide eyes and warm tones, Matt tucked up next to him in a bunk. "I know sometimes it's maybe not enough," Matt says, his fingers tracing lines along Jepha's arm, totally out of sync with his tattoos. "I know sometimes it's probably too much," Jepha smiles back, and Matt just presses closer. "All relationships are balancing acts," Jepha says wisely, and Matt agrees. It's kind of terrifying, standing on the edge of whatever this is with Jepha, but then he thinks about this documentary he saw once about tightrope walkers, and how the ones who never fall are the ones who never look down. They just keep their eyes on one spot ahead, fixed on their goal. Matt's fixed spots are the two tiny balls of silver below Jepha's smiling mouth, and he just puts one foot in front of the other, and tries to remember to breathe.
*
They skip the afterparty. Matt's skin is thrumming by the time they ride the elevator up to their room. It's been almost two months since they had this much time-everything in between has been quick fucks in cities they both happened to be in at the same time, dirty phone messages, sappy emails where they both say 'I miss you' too many times. Jepha is wearing one of Matt's blue button downs over worn jeans, hands tucked in his pockets as he leans against the mirrored wall. "Stop looking at me like that," Matt says with a sideways glance, but he's grinning.
"We could just do it right here," Jepha says conversationally. He doesn’t move an inch, but Matt's body temperature spikes. He stabs at the button for their floor a few times and Jepha grins and bites his lip. Matt's palms are itching.
Their room may have furniture in it, but Matt's not sure, nor does he really give a shit. The second they're both in the door, Matt throws their bags into the dark of the room and presses Jepha against the inside of it. "Hiya," Jepha says, still calm as anything, and Matt actually growls a little bit. "Shut the fuck up," he whispers and then they're kissing hard enough to bruise. He can hear Jepha's head thump back into the wall. Jepha just relaxes into it more, opens his mouth for Matt's tongue, cants his hips up when Matt's push into his insistently.
Matt's hands shove up the front of Jepha's shirt, nails raking over skin, and Jepha's hands come up to cup his face, to keep him close. Matt thinks if he caught a glimpse of them in the mirror right now, it would all seem backwards. Matt isn't used to the feeling of being in charge-even when Jepha's under him, bound and gagged, it's always because Jepha asked for it first.
Jepha's fingers work the buttons on Matt's shirt first until Matt can pull it roughly off his shoulders. With Jepha, Matt doesn't bother with more than the top button before he's pulling it up over his head. Jepha laughs, caught in the fabric, and Matt just curses. "Seriously, you can help," he says when the material gets stuck at Jepha's wrists, arms up over his head.
"No, this is much more fun," Jepha responds and Matt just says "Fine," and rucks the shirt up his arms, leaves it bunched around Jepha's wrists while he pops the button on his jeans. Jepha's still smiling, but his breaths are coming harder now, ragged as Matt tugs his jeans over his hips, tucks his fingers in Jepha's underwear and pushes them both down together until they pool at Jepha's ankles. When Matt pulls back a step to undo his own jeans, he lets his eyes rake over Jepha, tattoos scattered haphazardly across his body, arms still stuck together, still over his head, now matched by his ankles, his cock bobbing hot and hard in between. It would look ridiculous except for how Jepha's eyes are inky black, his mouth open as he watches Matt undo his pants and pull his own cock out, stroking it once, twice. Matt's felt like he was on the edge of something all day, but surprisingly, now that he's here, he thinks he can last a while longer.
"Turn around," he says quietly, and Jepha's eyes flutter closed for a second before Matt reaches forward and tugs him away from the wall, turns him with hands tight on his hips.
"Fuck," Jepha breathes, and it sounds like praise. Matt presses his forehead to the back of Jepha's neck.
There's lube in his bag (and probably in Jepha's as well), but when Matt pulls away to look for it, Jepha makes a desperate whining sound. "What?" Matt asks, snaking his palm around to lie flat against Jepha's trembling stomach.
"Like this, just like this," Jepha says. His eyes are closed and his cheek is pressed against the inside of his raised arm. Matt takes a deep breath, then another.
"Fuck, Jeph," he whispers, but he's already stroking his cock again, using his fingers to spread the slick of his precome as much as he can. It's not quite enough, and he pulls his hand back, spits twice into his palm, and watches a shiver slide down Jepha's spine.
He presses one finger into Jepha, then adds another pretty quickly. Jepha makes a noise. "Matt, come on, I can-"
"Shut up," Matt says again, moving his fingers slower. If Jepha's going to take him with nothing more than spit and come, Matt's going to make sure he's at least ready for it. Jepha's impatient groan just makes Matt go slower still, until Jepha is working himself back on Matt's hand. He can feel where Jepha is relaxing around him, though, and thinks that maybe Jepha won't thank him later, but there's a difference between pain and stupid.
"Matty," Jepha finally says through gritted teeth and Matt pulls his fingers free and lines up. His jeans are still around his thighs, rough denim scraping at Jepha's skin. Jepha's arms are trembling a little, even as he rests his forearms against the door, wrist to elbow, to keep them up. There's a fine line of sweat along Jepha's temples and Matt kisses one chastely before he pushes in. "Oh, god, oh fuck," Jepha sobs and Matt almost stops, but Jepha is pushing back into him, and it’s a little easier with each sharp, shallow breath. Instead, Matt wraps one arm around Jepha's waist and pushes in with a slow, steady motion, and then pulls back again with an equally slow glide.
The sensations are intense. They've fucked without condoms before (the benefits of monogamy), but without the slick, cool glide of lube, Matt can feel bursts of heat every time his cock stutters against Jepha's skin. Jepha's whole body is a contradiction of bowstring-tight muscles and boneless sighs and Matt tries to follow him, match his movements to Jepha's reactions, until Jepha pushes back hard and says "Fuck you, Taylor, stop being so fucking sweet about it." Matt's next thrust pushes Jepha's shoulder to the wall.
Matt can't quite lose himself in it, not when Jepha's whimpers are occasionally punctuated by a hiss, but he keeps the rhythm quick and even. He wraps one hand around Jepha's hip and the other around the back of Jepha's neck, pressing his cheek into the door as he fucks him. "Fuck, Matt," Jepha sobs when Matt's all the way inside, and Matt lets one hand slide across Jepha's stomach and down. He doesn't even get his hand wrapped fully around Jepha's cock-just lets the crown stutter against his dry palm-- and Jepha's coming against the door, thighs shaking hard enough that Matt's other arm wraps around his waist to keep him on his feet. Matt realizes with a start that it’s the only time he's touched Jepha's cock all night.
Matt fucks him through the aftershocks, shallow quick movements that push him right up to the edge. Jepha exhales once, long and slow, and Matt squeezes his eyes closed as he comes, mouthing Jepha's name over and over against his shoulder.
The slide out is easier than it was in, but Jepha's body still flinches and Matt's skin flashes cold for a second. He's not worried, not really, but he feels like he's just waking up from something that wasn't entirely in his control. Jepha turns so his back is pressed to the door. He lowers his arms so Matt can finally tug the shirt off his wrists and Jepha winds their fingers together and pulls him close. Matt tucks his face into Jepha's neck. "You okay?"
Jepha chuffs out a laugh and presses his cheek to Matt's temple. "Yeah, I'm good."
Matt kneels and pulls off Jepha's shoes, then helps him out of his jeans. He shucks his own pants and slips his fingers into Jepha's again. "Come on."
By Eleanor_lavish
Jepha Howard (The Used)/ Matt Taylor (Motion City Soundtrack)
NC-17, 3K
Don't know them, made this up.
Notes: There is no reason this should exist, except that I love them both, and needed it for my HEART. Bassist love, people! Thanks to Sky, Fi and Lovelypoet for the encouragement and beta.
Summary: "I know sometimes it's maybe not enough," Matt says, his fingers tracing lines along Jepha's arm, totally out of sync with his tattoos. "I know sometimes it's probably too much," Jepha smiles back, and Matt just presses closer.
It's late by the time they make it back to the bus. The meet and greet crush was more insane than normal, with venue security made up almost entirely of guys over 50 who didn't do much beyond yelling for order (and not actually getting any). There were a few great kids though, the ones whose eyes shine when they shake Matt's hand, or who say "seriously, thank you" and mean it. Those ones always make it worth it, even when all Matt wants is a hot shower and his bunk.
It's chilly out, and Matt stuffs his hands in his pockets as they trudge up the bus steps.
Tony stops dead in front of him and Matt says "Whoa!" with a laugh, almost running into his back. "Two more steps, man, come on, you can make it," he goads, but Tony is already shifting out of the way.
"Someone left you a present," he says with a grin in his voice, and before Matt can see over his shoulder, he's being gathered up into a full body hug.
"Hey," Jepha's lips buzz against his neck and Matt's arms tighten around his shoulders reflexively.
"Fuck," Matt breathes as Jeph's hands palm over his lower back, pull him closer. "What the fuck, Jepha," he manages, but he's not even a little mad.
"Missed you," Jepha says, not letting go, and Matt can distantly hear Tony on his cell, shuffling back down the steps, presumably over to the other bus. They stand like that for a long time, just holding on, before Jepha pulls back enough to brush his nose against Matt's. "Made you some tea, but its probably cold."
"That's what microwaves are for," Matt grins and Jepha kisses him once, twice on the lips before breaking away.
*
"You know you just got off tour," Matt says around the lip of his mug. Jepha settles in closer to his side, tucks the blanket around where Matt's feet are sitting in Jeph's lap. "And we're getting to Salt Lake in, what," he stops to do the math, "two weeks?"
"Home's boring," he says. "Besides, your bus smells way fucking better than ours did." Matt laughs and sighs as Jepha's fingers worm their way under Matt's hem, fingers warm on his side. "Seriously, what is that smell?"
"Glade Plug-ins," Matt says with a shake of his head. "They're five bucks, man. I'll send you some for next time."
"Excellent," Jepha sighs.
"Seriously, though," Matt digs his toes into Jeph's thigh. "You flew to Michigan."
"Tomorrow's Chicago," Jepha says, like that means anything. Matt blinks at him. "Tomorrow's a hotel night," Jepha tries again, the pad of his thumb running in a rough arc over Matt's ribcage, and Matt can feel his blush.
"Oh," Matt says, and Jepha leans in kiss his shoulder, his neck.
"Jesus, Matty, can you not play the blushing virgin until we actually get there, because now you're just being a tease."
"Fucker," Matt grins, and he can still feel the warmth in his cheeks, and on his neck where Jepha's mouth is sucking hard enough to bruise. "Hey, hey, I have a show tomorrow."
"So you'll have to wear something sexy with a collar," Jepha shrugs and Matt gives up arguing when Jepha crawls into his lap and grinds down.
"Collar as in polo shirt, or collar as in leather?" Matt asks, and slides his hands up under the back of Jepha's worn red tshirt.
"Either." Jepha bites at Matt's jaw, his earlobe, before using his teeth to tug at Matt's lip ring.
"Don't let me interrupt!" Justin says, his voice way louder than necessary in the confines of the bus. Matt blushes again and Jepha just kisses him and flips Justin off with the hand not under Matt's shirt. "Dude, it is my bus," Justin says with a huff, and Matt laughs.
"It's cool, you can stay," Matt says and Justin just flaps his hands and runs to the bunks.
"I'm just, you know, getting out of the way," he calls up front, and Matt shoves Jepha back on the couch and gets up, stretching enough that his spine pops.
"Seriously, stay," Matt says, leaning on the doorframe of the hallway. Justin turns to give him a suspicious look. "We're just going to sleep!"
"Uh-huh," Justin grins, and Matt throws an empty water bottle at him.
"Sleeping. That's it," Matt says, crossing his arms. Jepha sighs dramatically from the couch and Justin grins wider.
"Well in that case, I'm putting on my PJs!"
*
"Seriously, you can," Tony says quietly in his ear as Matt's popping popcorn. "That's why God invented earbuds."
"We won't," Matt replies.
"You could though," Tony presses, and Matt just rolls his eyes. "Fine, but don't say I wasn't looking out for you!"
"You're the best," Matt tells him, and presses a smacking kiss to his cheek. "But you seriously don't want us having sex on this bus." Of course he says it a little too loudly, and Justin looks up from his UNO cards.
"Okay, now I'm just intrigued," he says and Jepha throws popcorn at him.
*
He should see it coming, but he doesn't. They're halfway through "Future" and the whole auditorium is clapping along with Justin and his dorktastic countdown to the bridge, and all of a sudden the screaming gets louder in pockets and Jepha is at his elbow with one of Matt's basses. "What the fuck," Matt mouths at him, already grinning, and Jeph nods across the stage to Jesse, who gives him a double thumbs up and points to the crowd. It's Chicago, so there is an actual pit, boys moshing into each other and girls with fried hair pushing right back.
Matt jogs across the stage as Justin leads everyone in song, and by the time he gets to Jesse's Moog, Jesse's already at the edge of the stage, singing along at the top of his lungs, arms flailing wildly. Matt plays with a lot more concentration than he's used to-its been months since he even touched a Moog-but when he finally looks up, Jepha's playing bass with his head thrown back, mouth open, and Jesse's taking a running leap into the crowd. It's insane, and amazing, and the crowd goes nuts, and Matt just starts laughing. Jepha looks over and winks at him, and Matt just shakes his head.
They finally get Jesse back ten minutes later, after the crowd surfs him all the way to the back of the pit and around. "You're mad," Matt yells at him, and Jepha adds "I like this guy!" Jesse just lays on the floor backstage and pants, but Matt hasn't seen him this happy in months.
"Thanks," he says quietly to Jepha and Jepha just squeezes his hip.
"You can thank me later," he replies, low in Matt's ear, and Matt can't help the little shiver down his spine.
*
Matt's never been that guy in the bedroom. He's the nice guy. The vanilla guy. The first time he hooked up with Jepha, he had a moment of quiet freakout when he tugged Jepha's jeans down to discover that more of him was pierced than Matt really would have guessed. It didn't stop him from blowing Jeph, though, in the back of a bus that didn't belong to either of them, on Warped. His teeth caught once on Jepha's piercing, and Matt almost came in his pants from the moan Jepha let out. He didn't apologize after.
Jepha's kinky-Jepha's really kinky-and Matt just… isn't, and he worries a lot at the beginning. But they go in baby steps. Jepha doesn't seem too bummed when Matt says there is no way he's just going to hit Jepha as hard as he can. Jepha seems downright thrilled when Matt decides he's actually really okay with tying Jepha up. (Matt is actually equally surprised, and thinks maybe he's more a chocolate chip than a vanilla.) Matt's totally on board with hair pulling, and nipple clamps turn out to be a lot less weird than he thought they'd be. They also have a lot of nights where its just them without any frills-slow, intense nights where Jepha fucks Matt for nearly an hour, face pressed into the crook of his neck, just muttering nonsense into his skin. Or nights when Jepha tugs them out of their clothes and into a big, hot bathtub, and they just make out like teenagers until their fingers look like prunes.
They talk about it a lot, mostly because Jepha talks about everything. Not like Justin does, with self-deprecating comments and wild gestures, but with wide eyes and warm tones, Matt tucked up next to him in a bunk. "I know sometimes it's maybe not enough," Matt says, his fingers tracing lines along Jepha's arm, totally out of sync with his tattoos. "I know sometimes it's probably too much," Jepha smiles back, and Matt just presses closer. "All relationships are balancing acts," Jepha says wisely, and Matt agrees. It's kind of terrifying, standing on the edge of whatever this is with Jepha, but then he thinks about this documentary he saw once about tightrope walkers, and how the ones who never fall are the ones who never look down. They just keep their eyes on one spot ahead, fixed on their goal. Matt's fixed spots are the two tiny balls of silver below Jepha's smiling mouth, and he just puts one foot in front of the other, and tries to remember to breathe.
*
They skip the afterparty. Matt's skin is thrumming by the time they ride the elevator up to their room. It's been almost two months since they had this much time-everything in between has been quick fucks in cities they both happened to be in at the same time, dirty phone messages, sappy emails where they both say 'I miss you' too many times. Jepha is wearing one of Matt's blue button downs over worn jeans, hands tucked in his pockets as he leans against the mirrored wall. "Stop looking at me like that," Matt says with a sideways glance, but he's grinning.
"We could just do it right here," Jepha says conversationally. He doesn’t move an inch, but Matt's body temperature spikes. He stabs at the button for their floor a few times and Jepha grins and bites his lip. Matt's palms are itching.
Their room may have furniture in it, but Matt's not sure, nor does he really give a shit. The second they're both in the door, Matt throws their bags into the dark of the room and presses Jepha against the inside of it. "Hiya," Jepha says, still calm as anything, and Matt actually growls a little bit. "Shut the fuck up," he whispers and then they're kissing hard enough to bruise. He can hear Jepha's head thump back into the wall. Jepha just relaxes into it more, opens his mouth for Matt's tongue, cants his hips up when Matt's push into his insistently.
Matt's hands shove up the front of Jepha's shirt, nails raking over skin, and Jepha's hands come up to cup his face, to keep him close. Matt thinks if he caught a glimpse of them in the mirror right now, it would all seem backwards. Matt isn't used to the feeling of being in charge-even when Jepha's under him, bound and gagged, it's always because Jepha asked for it first.
Jepha's fingers work the buttons on Matt's shirt first until Matt can pull it roughly off his shoulders. With Jepha, Matt doesn't bother with more than the top button before he's pulling it up over his head. Jepha laughs, caught in the fabric, and Matt just curses. "Seriously, you can help," he says when the material gets stuck at Jepha's wrists, arms up over his head.
"No, this is much more fun," Jepha responds and Matt just says "Fine," and rucks the shirt up his arms, leaves it bunched around Jepha's wrists while he pops the button on his jeans. Jepha's still smiling, but his breaths are coming harder now, ragged as Matt tugs his jeans over his hips, tucks his fingers in Jepha's underwear and pushes them both down together until they pool at Jepha's ankles. When Matt pulls back a step to undo his own jeans, he lets his eyes rake over Jepha, tattoos scattered haphazardly across his body, arms still stuck together, still over his head, now matched by his ankles, his cock bobbing hot and hard in between. It would look ridiculous except for how Jepha's eyes are inky black, his mouth open as he watches Matt undo his pants and pull his own cock out, stroking it once, twice. Matt's felt like he was on the edge of something all day, but surprisingly, now that he's here, he thinks he can last a while longer.
"Turn around," he says quietly, and Jepha's eyes flutter closed for a second before Matt reaches forward and tugs him away from the wall, turns him with hands tight on his hips.
"Fuck," Jepha breathes, and it sounds like praise. Matt presses his forehead to the back of Jepha's neck.
There's lube in his bag (and probably in Jepha's as well), but when Matt pulls away to look for it, Jepha makes a desperate whining sound. "What?" Matt asks, snaking his palm around to lie flat against Jepha's trembling stomach.
"Like this, just like this," Jepha says. His eyes are closed and his cheek is pressed against the inside of his raised arm. Matt takes a deep breath, then another.
"Fuck, Jeph," he whispers, but he's already stroking his cock again, using his fingers to spread the slick of his precome as much as he can. It's not quite enough, and he pulls his hand back, spits twice into his palm, and watches a shiver slide down Jepha's spine.
He presses one finger into Jepha, then adds another pretty quickly. Jepha makes a noise. "Matt, come on, I can-"
"Shut up," Matt says again, moving his fingers slower. If Jepha's going to take him with nothing more than spit and come, Matt's going to make sure he's at least ready for it. Jepha's impatient groan just makes Matt go slower still, until Jepha is working himself back on Matt's hand. He can feel where Jepha is relaxing around him, though, and thinks that maybe Jepha won't thank him later, but there's a difference between pain and stupid.
"Matty," Jepha finally says through gritted teeth and Matt pulls his fingers free and lines up. His jeans are still around his thighs, rough denim scraping at Jepha's skin. Jepha's arms are trembling a little, even as he rests his forearms against the door, wrist to elbow, to keep them up. There's a fine line of sweat along Jepha's temples and Matt kisses one chastely before he pushes in. "Oh, god, oh fuck," Jepha sobs and Matt almost stops, but Jepha is pushing back into him, and it’s a little easier with each sharp, shallow breath. Instead, Matt wraps one arm around Jepha's waist and pushes in with a slow, steady motion, and then pulls back again with an equally slow glide.
The sensations are intense. They've fucked without condoms before (the benefits of monogamy), but without the slick, cool glide of lube, Matt can feel bursts of heat every time his cock stutters against Jepha's skin. Jepha's whole body is a contradiction of bowstring-tight muscles and boneless sighs and Matt tries to follow him, match his movements to Jepha's reactions, until Jepha pushes back hard and says "Fuck you, Taylor, stop being so fucking sweet about it." Matt's next thrust pushes Jepha's shoulder to the wall.
Matt can't quite lose himself in it, not when Jepha's whimpers are occasionally punctuated by a hiss, but he keeps the rhythm quick and even. He wraps one hand around Jepha's hip and the other around the back of Jepha's neck, pressing his cheek into the door as he fucks him. "Fuck, Matt," Jepha sobs when Matt's all the way inside, and Matt lets one hand slide across Jepha's stomach and down. He doesn't even get his hand wrapped fully around Jepha's cock-just lets the crown stutter against his dry palm-- and Jepha's coming against the door, thighs shaking hard enough that Matt's other arm wraps around his waist to keep him on his feet. Matt realizes with a start that it’s the only time he's touched Jepha's cock all night.
Matt fucks him through the aftershocks, shallow quick movements that push him right up to the edge. Jepha exhales once, long and slow, and Matt squeezes his eyes closed as he comes, mouthing Jepha's name over and over against his shoulder.
The slide out is easier than it was in, but Jepha's body still flinches and Matt's skin flashes cold for a second. He's not worried, not really, but he feels like he's just waking up from something that wasn't entirely in his control. Jepha turns so his back is pressed to the door. He lowers his arms so Matt can finally tug the shirt off his wrists and Jepha winds their fingers together and pulls him close. Matt tucks his face into Jepha's neck. "You okay?"
Jepha chuffs out a laugh and presses his cheek to Matt's temple. "Yeah, I'm good."
Matt kneels and pulls off Jepha's shoes, then helps him out of his jeans. He shucks his own pants and slips his fingers into Jepha's again. "Come on."