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... )
“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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4.
Stuart hasn’t had anyone back to his place to fuck around with in a long time. Ashley doesn’t even come over that often on an innocent, platonic level - they hang out at work, mostly, the pub or Ashley’s gadget-filled place. They’ve been at a different pub, though, on the recommendation of Rachid, who had immediately fucked off with some girl who’d clearly been the reason they were there about ten minutes in, and it’s closer to Stuart’s place. Stuart’s not particularly pissed, and he doesn’t think Ashley is either, but walking anywhere is still taking longer than it usually would. It’s the easier option, to meander through the late evening gloom back to his to start putting a dent in his latest pile of DVDs. The night is young, or their sleeping patterns are just fucked from shift work.
“You know what,” Ashley says thoughtfully as they reach Stuart’s door, out of nowhere, “for all he goes on about me having it easy when it comes to hook ups, Rachid is the one shagging in the toilets of that place right now.”
“What?” Stuart asks. He frowns, pausing with his key in the door. He doesn’t turn the lock yet. “In the toilets? I thought he left.”
Ashley laughs. “Disabled toilets. Saw them head in there a while after he bought her that drink.”
Stuart shakes his head. He hadn’t even realised. “Classy bastard,” he says with a snort. “Loads of self-control, that one, waiting that long. And they say romance is fucking dead.”
“I don’t know,” Ashley says in a considering tone, “there’s a lot to be said for immediacy, sometimes. If you don’t get caught.” He smiles, a distant look on his face, and Stuart’s sure there must be a story there that he hasn’t heard yet. He wonders if he wants to hear it. He can’t quite decide, torn between curiosity and the feeling he might be better off not knowing.
“Wham bam thank you mam,” Stuart says. He reconsiders. “Sir?”
“Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it,” Ashley says, and reaches out to wrap his hand around Stuart’s so they turn the key together and finally open the door.
“Right,” Stuart says belatedly, blinking at his doorway, and Ashley gives him a look that makes Stuart think that Ashley probably knew what was going on in his mind before he even realised himself, when he mentioned DVDs and his place and not being ready to call it a night yet.
Ashley’s hand lingers on his in the moment before they step inside. It’s casual enough that it could be an accident, but he casts Stuart a look as well, knowing and heavy-lidded. “So you’ve really never been so into it with someone you just had to like, escape to the nearest space?”
“Well I have this thing,” Stuart says, “where I don’t want to be arrested for public indecency. You know, if I can help it.”
Ashley laughs as he sits down. “Maxine would never let you live it down.”
Stuart pulls a face that he’s pretty sure still doesn’t convey the horror of that thought and sits down next to Ashley, even though his DVDs are all scattered around over near his TV. “No sex would be worth that.”
“I dunno,” Ashley says. “I reckon I can think of some things.”
“Yeah?” Stuart says, and he doesn’t plan for it to be the question it comes out as, but that’s the way it sounds, pitched up at the end and interested in spite of himself.
“Sometimes it’s just that good,” Ashley says with a shrug, and Stuart flashes back to the hot, wet slide of Ashley’s mouth on his dick and understands, a bit. Something that good might be worth the risk; it’s not as though Ashley would be expecting him to provide silk sheets. “Sex is always a bit fuckin’ crazy anyway, yeah? Sometimes you’re so turned in you just can’t wait.”
Stuart raises his eyebrows, can’t hide his smirk. “Is this part of your alpha thing?”
“Oh piss off, what are you, taking over from Rachid now?”
“That’s insulting.” Stuart knocks his knee against Ashley’s, their thighs pressing warm together where the sofa cushions meet. “Go on then.” He swallows, suddenly, acutely aware of the silence of his flat. “What is it, if it’s not some ‘take me now’ thing?” He tries to flutter his eyelashes to illustrate his point, but it actually makes his vision go a bit blurry.
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“You’re fucking dirty, Ash,” Stuart says and he knows it, has growing evidence of this, and Ashley gives him another one of those looks, and for once it’s Stuart who makes that first move. He says, “Is that why you’re here?”
Ashley raises his eyebrows. “I thought you wanted to watch a film,” he says, innocuous enough, but his eyes are anything but innocent.
“You know what I mean,” Stuart huffs. He’s never been any good at this, articulating something that isn’t a rant or a defence or a lesson of some sort, but he’s determined not to be outdone by Ashley at the same time. Ashley’s experienced in these matters, the fucking master of friends with benefits and hot, in the moment sex, apparently, but Stuart’s fucking good at bluffing when he needs to be. “But did you wanna watch a film or did you come back to, like, to fuck around?”
“That’s very forward,” Ashley says. He’s smiling; he’s smirking. Stuart’s eyes are fixated on his mouth and slowly, Ashley’s tongue slides out, pink and wet, and licks them, deliberate dampening.
“Yeah, well I know you, don’t I?” Stuart says. “We both know you like the forward thing, even if I can’t offer you a classy pub toilet.” And he’s short, he’s been with a couple of girls who were an inch or two taller than him, but he’s never had to slide a hand through someone’s hair just to pull their head down to kiss them before.
Ashley laughs, like maybe he’s laughing at Stuart, at the way Stuart’s taken so long since they got inside to get to this point, but the sound is warm and buzzing against Stuart’s lips, and he opens his mouth and wraps his arm around Stuart’s shoulder to pull him closer, pull him down. They haven’t even got a rhythm going before Ashley lies back against the sofa cushions and pulls Stuart on top of him, legs spread out wide so Stuart can get a knee between them and steady himself - a few clumsy bumps of their mouths, barely enough to taste, until Stuart is on top of Ashley and their mouths fit together, the kissing evening out. Stuart finds himself with his elbows resting above Ashley’s shoulder, caging his head with his arms, fingertips in Ashley’s hair, and Ashley tilts his head up to meet his mouth.
They kiss for a while, almost familiar by now, hot and getting steadily hotter, Stuart pressing Ashley further down into the sofa as it goes on, shifting up, pressing his knee with a little more pressure between Ashley’s legs. Ashley arches against him and his leg slips off of the sofa, legs spread too wide, foot hitting the floor hard. Stuart almost topples off onto the floor as well, a precarious, unbalanced moment before Ashley grabs him and somehow manages to keep him where he is, hands clenched in his shirt.
“Your sofa’s shit,” Ashley says, breathless. Stuart opens his mouth to protest, because his sofa is actually pretty decent, comfortable with springs that still work, but while it fulfils its purpose of being sat on well enough, it’s not really spacious enough for this. “Can we - hey.” He moves one hand from Stuart’s back to trace over his jaw, a hint of a scratch with just enough purpose it makes Stuart shiver. “We could go to your room.”
“Yeah,” Stuart says, “alright.”
Ashley’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” Stuart gives him a quizzical look. “I mean, just. I thought that might freak you out a bit. A bed.”
“My bed’s fucking amazing,” Stuart says. “Nothing scary there.” He looks down pointedly, nodding to all the places they’re pressing against each other. “Bit late for all that now, isn’t it?”
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His brain short-circuits, for a second. Ashley, shirtless on his bed - it’s fucking weird, but when he ignores that part of it, it’s also fucking hot. “Lie back,” he says, “yeah,” and when he settles back over Ashley, a mirror of their position on the sofa, Ashley slides his hands up under Stuart’s shirt to rub over his shoulder blades, over the shift of muscles every time Stuart moves. Next time Stuart pulls back, there’s a dull pink flush rising up over Ashley’s chest, and Ashley’s got his shirt rucked up around his armpits, hot skin against skin, one hand on Stuart’s arse to pull him down closer, fingers digging through denim. Every time Stuart shifts his balance he can feel that Ashley’s hard, the heat of it against his thigh.
He kisses Ashley again, ducking his head fast enough that their teeth clash with a dull noise before he licks at Ashley’s bottom lip, bites lightly and then drags his mouth down over Ashley’s jaw, his stubble a rough burn against Stuart’s lips. Ashley groans, hooks a foot around the back of Stuart’s thigh and arches up into him.
“Stuart,” he says, “Stu, Stu.” He runs his nails lightly over Stuart’s side. “You should - do you wanna fuck me? Come on.”
“Ash,” Stuart begins, but Ashley cuts him off.
“I want you to,” he says, and Stuart drops his head to muffle the noise of frustration clawing up from the back of his throat against Ashley’s collarbone.
“I can’t,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
“It’s not a big deal,” Ashley tells him. He smooths his hand over the line of Stuart’s shoulders, stretching out his t-shirt. “Still just mates, yeah? You don’t have to but it doesn’t - it’s just a fuck, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“I want to,” Stuart mutters. He looks up, looks at Ashley’s face, and the way Ashley looks with his hair a mess and his mouth red and swollen sends a fresh wave of arousal through him, but it still turns out not to be enough. He gestures down between them where, despite being so fucking turned on by Ashley that it would have been a worry a few weeks ago, he’s still just half-hard. “I fucking, I fucking can’t.”
“Oh.” Ashley blinks at him. Stuart guesses this is probably totally foreign territory for Ashley, who is used to having his no strings attached sex with people who don’t have issues coming out their arse. “Well. Okay. I guess that makes sense, really.”
“It’s not even the gay thing,” Stuart explains. He laughs roughly - he kind of wishes it was, because that would make a lot more sense. “Not fucking kidding. It just… it happens sometimes, apparently I have, you know. Fucking intimacy issues or some shit. Happens with girls, sometimes. It’s fucking happened to me before.” He rolls over to the side, drops down onto the mattress next to Ashley and sighs up at the ceiling.
There’s a pause. “Shit,” Ashley says, a succinct summary.
“Fucking got that right,” Stuart says. He looks over at Ashley, who has what looks like the trace of a pout on his face. “Do you still need to…” he trails off. He’s not sure about the etiquette of these things. The last time he was messing around with someone who was otherwise just a friend, he was in university. He never had these troubles then.
“It’s alright.” Ashley sits up, leans over the side of the bed and starts looking for his shirt. He turns to give Stuart a grin before he pulls it back on, flattening down his hair on one side. “Should probably be getting home anyway. I’ll be fine, what the fuck d’you think the internet’s for?”
“You slag,” Stuart says with a disbelieving laugh, but feels better for it.
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