Prompt Post No. 1
Welcome to Round One of the Sirens Kink Meme.
Format of Prompts
Format of Prompts
- Alphabetize pairings/threesomes/moresomes. (e.g. Ashley/Rachid/Stuart)
- Put [RPF] before RPF prompts. (e.g. [RPF] Rhys/Richard)
- For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], Sirens Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" (e.g. [Crossover], Ashley/Jon Snow, [Game of Thrones])
- No "!" in ( Read more... )
“Yeah, alright then,” Stuart says, easily enough, and he can pretend to himself all he likes they’re just going back to Ashley’s to keep on drinking into the night, or watch a film on Ashley’s brand new TV, but the truth is he’s half-hard before they even get there.
Ashley blows him against the front door, hands on his belt as soon as it’s shut behind them. Stuart swears and can’t stop himself from saying Ash’s name, over and over, low and gravelly, and when he thinks back to what Ashley was saying earlier he tangles his hands in his hair, tugs a little, not enough to pull him right down but hard enough that Ashley will feel it.
Ashley moans around his dick, pulling off to swear, his lips swollen and red, his chin shiny with spit. Stuart loosens his grip and Ashley shakes his head, says, “Don’t be a twat, don’t stop,” and goes right back to it, licking from Stuart’s balls right up to the head of his cock before taking him in his mouth again, closing his eyes. Stuart drops one hand from Ashley’s head to his jaw, stroking his thumb across the rough scrape of his beard before rubbing at his cheek, feeling the shape of his own dick in Ashley’s mouth, his other hand still twisting restlessly in his hair.
He comes not soon after that, hips twitching uncontrollably, Ashley looking up at him again, fucking dirty.
“Did you want,” Stuart begins once his brain kicks back into something of a working order, still fuzzy with drink and slow from his orgasm, but Ashley shakes his head, only now getting up off his knees so they’re level again.
“It’s fine,” Ashley says, but that doesn’t seem fair to Stuart. It’s leaving something missing in the equation of a good and fun time for them both, whether Ashley really does enjoy what just happened almost as much as Stuart or not. Ashley shakes his head again when Stuart raises his eyebrows and nods at the floor in a silent question, but he does let Stuart turn them around and get his hand on Ashley’s dick after a little bit of fumbling, a tiny shred of an internal, incredulous what the fuck? Ashley is hard, the tip of his cock already sticky, just as turned on as he’d promised he’d get, and Stuart knows he’s awkward with the angle, but that’s all it is, really, a different angle, and instead of feeling weird about it he concentrates on the way Ashley drops his head to the crook of Stuart’s neck, panting hot and damp against his skin, choking out a moan and a grunt when he comes in hot pulses all over Stuart’s hand.
“Helping each other out,” is what Stuart says when Ashley eventually lifts his head and looks at him again, and Ashley’s face smooths out from the frown that had been threatening to take over, and he actually laughs when Stuart waves his come covered hand in the space between them. Stuart twirls his fingers, a disgusting sort of jazz hands, and thinks that’s almost definitely gayer than tossing one of his best mates off. “Got any tissues, mate?”
the alternative title to this is now 'jizz hands'. Also, this is time number 2, despite the fact I forgot the number in the first comment, just to be clear!
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3.
“Newbie thinks we’re fucking,” Ashley says.
Stuart looks at him, surprised. He opens his mouth, his first instinct to scoff at how ridiculous the idea is, but as he takes in Ashley’s face he flashes back to the sight of Ashley sliding down to his knees, and maybe it’s not something he can scoff at after all. “Newbie thinks everyone is fucking,” he says instead.
“He thinks - and I quote,” Ashley says, “that we’re fucking and in love and his new gay dads.” He’s smiling, but there’s something a little bit wary in his eyes too, and Stuart wonders if there’s a certain way he should be playing this with his reply.
Stuart does laugh though, despite the caution he can pick out in Ashley’s expression. “His new gay dads?”
“His words,” Ashley says, holding his hands up.
“He’s mental,” Stuart says decisively. He actually thinks Rachid seems to be a decent bloke, sort of endearing in an irritating kind of way the more they get to know him, but apparently now he’s mental too. He repeats it once more because it’s sort of hilarious. “Gay dads. Imagine how fucked the human race would be if we did somehow procreate. Our offspring would be a fucking menace.”
Ashley laughs. “Jesus,” he says. “Doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?” He pauses, his hands in his pockets, dragging the heel of his shoe along the ground and watching its progress. “You’re - you’re okay though?”
Stuart thinks about playing dumb, but really, if there’s one thing he prides himself on it’s his intelligence, and he’d have to be a fucking idiot not to get what Ashley is on about right now. “Of course I am, mate,” he says. “It’s like you said, it wasn’t something to get weird about, right?”
“Right.” Ashley nods. “Yeah. It’s sort of worrying when you start to make sense, Stu,” he adds, grinning, and Stuart gives him the finger and they get back to work, and Stuart thinks that’s the end of it. It’s fine by him - he’s kept the friendship up, which is all that really matters, and he got a couple of blowjobs out of it too. A good couple of weeks, all things considered.
He takes longer getting his stuff together at the end of the shift, for no real reason other than that it’s been a long day and slow movements seem to be the only kind he can manage. He’s surprised when he walks out of the building and finds Ashley standing around at the entrance waiting for him, smoking and staring across the car park, his shoulders a tense line until he exhales a long stream of smoke and they drop. “I got that new game,” he says as Stuart approaches. “The zombie one, you know, wanna come over for a game? I need to try it out on two-player.”
It’s been a long shift, but Stuart can never get to sleep as soon as he gets back home anyway, needs a couple of hours of something mindless to wind down. “If you think you can handle losing,” he says, which is a joke - he’s never once managed to beat Ashley at any game, because Ashley apparently spends all the time he’s not at work or banging blokes he meets online playing with all his toys.
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Stuart doesn’t startle away. Ashley’s hand is unfamiliar, large and hot on his skin, but Stuart goes along with it because he promised he wouldn’t get weird. It’s not that weird, really - it’s different, it’s new, something they’ve never done before, but it’s okay. He’s had his hand on Ashley’s cock; he can deal with his tongue in his mouth. And then it’s not just okay; it’s good, because when Ashley is apparently sure Stuart is going to throw a fit about it he presses in closer and kisses harder, kisses him like he knows exactly what he wants and is ready to take it for himself, no fucking around. Stuart thinks he could definitely get behind this not fucking around and just going for it thing.
“It was all fucking Rachid,” Ashley murmurs, right against Stuart’s mouth, and Stuart tilts his head back out of the way.
“You what?”
“Fuckin’ - asking about sex all the time, talking about how he thinks we’re fucking, I was turned on all day,” Ashley says. He quirks his mouth in a smile that reassures Stuart that at least Ashley is aware of how stupid that is, and then he throws his leg over Stuart’s so he’s straddling him, so he can duck his head in close and kiss him hard again, teeth sharp against his lip before he slides his tongue into Stuart’s mouth, soothing. Stuart’s only just getting into the rhythm of it, frantic kisses and pants, licks and bites, when Ashley is sliding off of him as suddenly as he climbed on him, down onto the carpet, spreading Stuart’s legs so there’s room for him to kneel between them.
“Jesus,” Stuart says, sucking in a sharp gust of air, trying to breathe as Ashley drops his head and mouths Stuart through his jeans. It’s the biggest fucking tease because the denim means he can barely feel it, a distant, damp heat, but the visual alone is enough to have his hips twitching up like he can feel it all, every hot exhale of air as Ashley breathes against him, breathes him in. “Do you even know how fucking hot you are?”
Ashley gives him a look, a glance through his eyelashes, lips parted and red, eyes dark, and it’s like an answer without words: Ashley knows exactly how hot he is. Ashley is more than aware of what he can do, even to guys like Stuart.
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“Fuck, fuck, Ash,” Stuart says. “Fucking - shit.” He has no idea what is coming out of his mouth, which is not, contrary to what people seem to believe, his general state of being. Everything he has is too distracted by the stretch of Ashley’s lips.
It must have been too long - except it hasn’t, not really, not since Ashley helped him out that first time, but maybe it’s just been too long since someone teased him like this, got him all wound up and on edge before really going down on him. Once Ashley has his boxers down to tangle with his jeans around his thighs and one hand around the base of his dick, the other stroking over Stuart’s balls, creeping just behind them, making Stuart’s leg kick out to the side uncontrollably, his mouth meeting his fist in a rhythm like no one else Stuart has ever been with has been able to keep up so well, Stuart comes with his hands rubbing restlessly over Ashley’s shoulders in what feels like a matter of a few minutes. He makes some truly embarrassing noises, and when Ashley’s tongue flicks out, licking around the corner of his mouth where there’s a splash of come he missed, like just swallowing wasn’t enough, Stuart could swear his dick twitches, spent but still eager.
Stuart is too busy melting brainlessly into the sofa to get it together to do anything to help Ashley out too, but Ashley takes matters into his own hands, standing up and stretching. His trousers are stretched obscenely tight over his crotch before he undoes the button, pulling down the zip and granting himself space as he straddles Stuart again. He’s careful to avoid Stuart’s own, too-sensitive dick as he rubs himself against Stuart’s hip, slow and steady, and Stuart thinks - yeah, definite bonuses here; blokes know how too much sensation so soon feels. He manages to push himself forward enough to kiss Ashley again, wrap his arm around Ashley’s waist to help him balance, and he’s still so blissed out that it’s not even too gross when Ashley comes against his stomach, spilling onto his shirt. The way Ashley groans and bites at Stuart’s bottom lip and grinds his way through it against him is more than enough of a distraction.
Later, just before he leaves, Stuart says, “If I change your name to the King of Blowjobs in my phone, is that flattering or weird?”
Ashley gives him a look. “I’ll call you in front of Rachid,” he says. “All the time. And Maxine. Have fun explaining that one.”
“It’s a compliment!” Stuart insists.
Ashley swears at him, lazy and sated, and Stuart’s still grinning as he closes the door behind him.
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