[pornmas] day 25.
Summary: Heterosexuality's not Tom's defining feature, so no one is really surprised when he asks if his bandmates will gangbang him.
Fandom/Pairings: Youtube Slash; Sons of Admirals GSF, implied Cherimon.
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Did someone call for some SOA GSF Tom gangbangs? No? Too bad, I wrote it anyway.
Disclaimer: Read it! Hate it or love it! Just don't tell me about it.
----
cosmic latte tangerine
They're hanging around in Alex and Charlie's flat, Tom sitting on the floor painting a rainbow on a canvas while the others are lounging on the couches. Tom's hair is falling forward, bright blue hiding his face, and he's not actually facing the others because he's thinking. Thinking of how to phrase I want you all to fuck me without it sounding creepy. Thinking of the pros versus the cons. Deciding that yes, this is what he wants and he will not be ashamed of that.
"I want to ask you guys for something," Tom says, not looking at them, "but promise me you won't stop being my friend if I ask and you say no."
"I doubt anything could rid me of you," Ed says.
"Not being your friend would be kind of difficult, love."
"I don't really have enough friends to do that," Charlie says, just a little shy.
It's the response he expected from them. He knows them, knows that they probably won't hate him for asking, knows that they might even say yes, but as he drags his brush through orange he can't make himself say what he wants. Tom swallows and sets the brush down in the water before turning to face his friends. They're all looking at him, each just a little worried, and Tom looks away.
"I want you all to fuck me."
The words hang in the air, suspended in the silence that falls over the flat. Tom is resolutely not looking at any of them, instead focusing on the wall. He senses movement, and he expects something, just not Alex's arms wrapping around his neck and Alex's face buried in his hair. Tom isn't sure what that means, but he doesn't want to move because Alex is warm.
"It's sort of," Charlie offers, "like the threesome idea Alex had, only that involved Billie Joe Armstrong."
Alex loosens his grip on Tom to glare at Charlie, "I thought I told you to never mention that ever again."
"I'm somehow not surprised," Ed says, "and I say we do it. It's not like we haven't all confessed our love for each other in cliff/shag/marry."
"Oh my god," Tom groans, "I thought you didn't remember that."
Ed just laughs, and Charlie comes over to where Tom is. He hesitates for a moment before pressing his lips to Tom's, a little dry. Tom manages to snake an arm around Charlie and pull him closer. Alex clears his throat, and Charlie breaks away from Tom, eyes wide and a little confused.
"What?"
Alex pulls Charlie close, whispering in his ear, and Tom isn't entirely sure what's going on but he hears the word bed. Charlie is sort of frowning while Alex talks, but then he rolls his eyes.
"Just for that, we're using your bed."
"You're doing the laundry," Alex shrugs, "so I win either way."
Charlie shoves Alex Away lightly before getting up and holding out a hand to Tom. Tom blinks before taking it, and getting up. Ed's being led on by Alex, and the whole thing feels very surreal. Especially when Charlie sits Tom down on the bed and smiles at him. Alex tosses some things onto the bed next to Tom, and Ed's leaning against the doorframe.
"How are we doing this?"
"Alex," Tom says without thinking, "then you, then Charlie."
"You've thought about this a lot," Alex says as he sits on the bed next to Tom.
"Maybe," Tom shrugs, "Doesn't work as well when everyone is still wearing clothes."
Alex laughs, turning to press his lips to Tom's, hands deftly unbuttoning his jeans. Tom feels another set of hands lifting up his shirt, and pretty soon he's left in just underwear. Then there are wandering hands and mouths and when someone presses into him he fists the sheets, hands trying to find purchase wherever they can. Alex whispers into his ear, soft and grounding, and then he's pushing forward and oh. As he moves, Tom can tell that Alex fucks like he talks: a little fast. It's demanding and insistent, pay attention pay attention, and Tom arches up into it, giving himself up to the sensation.
Someone is skimming their hands across his chest, stopping at his hips and stroking gently, and Tom can hear someone humming softly. Everything is too overwhelming to process who is humming, but Tom listens and hears his heat beating in time to the tune, feels like he's being surrounded by music. He wants to write a song about that, wants to write about heartbeats and humming and gasping and crying out. He wants to transcribe the way Alex sounds when he comes, rough and unguarded. He wants to keep the way Alex stays, breathing and breathing, above him for a minute before pressing a kiss to Tom's forehead and pulling away.
When Ed trades places with Alex, leaning down to kiss Tom, it's familiar. This they've done-maybe they were wearing more clothes, but this they know. It's when Ed is in and is above Tom, looking down and blinking for a moment before moving, that everything is new and intense and ah! Ed fucks like he sings, sure and without apology, but there's an undercurrent of uncertainty. Having him after Alex is weirdgoodoverwhelming and the hands on his hips travel up, ghosting up his sides and drawing intricate, inane patterns.
Tom wants to capture this too, wants to tell everyone in the world how having hands you can't identify running over you is brilliant and too much so much not enough never enough more more more. It's something he can't articulate: how he feels, how he aches, how he wants. There is only so much someone can process at once, and too many things are happening, too many sensations are washing over him and he never ever wants it to stop. Never wants to forget the way that Ed crushes their lips together when he comes, hips snapping deeper, and stays until they need to breathe, cannot breathe.
They're still and silent for a moment, foreheads touching and lungs burning, before Ed pulls away. Then, Charlie is in his place and smiling shyly, like he's maybe going to ask Tom out on a date instead of fucking him. He's slow, careful, and it's sweet, so sweet, but too much-a second helping of desert when Tom could barely handle one. The humming is back again, or maybe never left, and Tom hears it, hears heartbeats, hears ragged breathing. It's the best music, the most beautiful music, and he's so wrapped up in it that the fingers wrapping around him and stroking gently are a surprise. Tom makes a noise, and Alex laughs.
"Come on, love. It's okay."
That's what he needs or wants or whatever, it's all secondary to the blankness and total bliss of arching up and humming and kisses to his neck and Charlie crying out and everything everything.
It's like floating, and Tom never wants to come down.
----
Postit-Notes: OKAY IT'S OVER. BLARGH. Go request blowjobs.
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Fandom/Pairings: Youtube Slash; Sons of Admirals GSF, implied Cherimon.
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Did someone call for some SOA GSF Tom gangbangs? No? Too bad, I wrote it anyway.
Disclaimer: Read it! Hate it or love it! Just don't tell me about it.
----
cosmic latte tangerine
They're hanging around in Alex and Charlie's flat, Tom sitting on the floor painting a rainbow on a canvas while the others are lounging on the couches. Tom's hair is falling forward, bright blue hiding his face, and he's not actually facing the others because he's thinking. Thinking of how to phrase I want you all to fuck me without it sounding creepy. Thinking of the pros versus the cons. Deciding that yes, this is what he wants and he will not be ashamed of that.
"I want to ask you guys for something," Tom says, not looking at them, "but promise me you won't stop being my friend if I ask and you say no."
"I doubt anything could rid me of you," Ed says.
"Not being your friend would be kind of difficult, love."
"I don't really have enough friends to do that," Charlie says, just a little shy.
It's the response he expected from them. He knows them, knows that they probably won't hate him for asking, knows that they might even say yes, but as he drags his brush through orange he can't make himself say what he wants. Tom swallows and sets the brush down in the water before turning to face his friends. They're all looking at him, each just a little worried, and Tom looks away.
"I want you all to fuck me."
The words hang in the air, suspended in the silence that falls over the flat. Tom is resolutely not looking at any of them, instead focusing on the wall. He senses movement, and he expects something, just not Alex's arms wrapping around his neck and Alex's face buried in his hair. Tom isn't sure what that means, but he doesn't want to move because Alex is warm.
"It's sort of," Charlie offers, "like the threesome idea Alex had, only that involved Billie Joe Armstrong."
Alex loosens his grip on Tom to glare at Charlie, "I thought I told you to never mention that ever again."
"I'm somehow not surprised," Ed says, "and I say we do it. It's not like we haven't all confessed our love for each other in cliff/shag/marry."
"Oh my god," Tom groans, "I thought you didn't remember that."
Ed just laughs, and Charlie comes over to where Tom is. He hesitates for a moment before pressing his lips to Tom's, a little dry. Tom manages to snake an arm around Charlie and pull him closer. Alex clears his throat, and Charlie breaks away from Tom, eyes wide and a little confused.
"What?"
Alex pulls Charlie close, whispering in his ear, and Tom isn't entirely sure what's going on but he hears the word bed. Charlie is sort of frowning while Alex talks, but then he rolls his eyes.
"Just for that, we're using your bed."
"You're doing the laundry," Alex shrugs, "so I win either way."
Charlie shoves Alex Away lightly before getting up and holding out a hand to Tom. Tom blinks before taking it, and getting up. Ed's being led on by Alex, and the whole thing feels very surreal. Especially when Charlie sits Tom down on the bed and smiles at him. Alex tosses some things onto the bed next to Tom, and Ed's leaning against the doorframe.
"How are we doing this?"
"Alex," Tom says without thinking, "then you, then Charlie."
"You've thought about this a lot," Alex says as he sits on the bed next to Tom.
"Maybe," Tom shrugs, "Doesn't work as well when everyone is still wearing clothes."
Alex laughs, turning to press his lips to Tom's, hands deftly unbuttoning his jeans. Tom feels another set of hands lifting up his shirt, and pretty soon he's left in just underwear. Then there are wandering hands and mouths and when someone presses into him he fists the sheets, hands trying to find purchase wherever they can. Alex whispers into his ear, soft and grounding, and then he's pushing forward and oh. As he moves, Tom can tell that Alex fucks like he talks: a little fast. It's demanding and insistent, pay attention pay attention, and Tom arches up into it, giving himself up to the sensation.
Someone is skimming their hands across his chest, stopping at his hips and stroking gently, and Tom can hear someone humming softly. Everything is too overwhelming to process who is humming, but Tom listens and hears his heat beating in time to the tune, feels like he's being surrounded by music. He wants to write a song about that, wants to write about heartbeats and humming and gasping and crying out. He wants to transcribe the way Alex sounds when he comes, rough and unguarded. He wants to keep the way Alex stays, breathing and breathing, above him for a minute before pressing a kiss to Tom's forehead and pulling away.
When Ed trades places with Alex, leaning down to kiss Tom, it's familiar. This they've done-maybe they were wearing more clothes, but this they know. It's when Ed is in and is above Tom, looking down and blinking for a moment before moving, that everything is new and intense and ah! Ed fucks like he sings, sure and without apology, but there's an undercurrent of uncertainty. Having him after Alex is weirdgoodoverwhelming and the hands on his hips travel up, ghosting up his sides and drawing intricate, inane patterns.
Tom wants to capture this too, wants to tell everyone in the world how having hands you can't identify running over you is brilliant and too much so much not enough never enough more more more. It's something he can't articulate: how he feels, how he aches, how he wants. There is only so much someone can process at once, and too many things are happening, too many sensations are washing over him and he never ever wants it to stop. Never wants to forget the way that Ed crushes their lips together when he comes, hips snapping deeper, and stays until they need to breathe, cannot breathe.
They're still and silent for a moment, foreheads touching and lungs burning, before Ed pulls away. Then, Charlie is in his place and smiling shyly, like he's maybe going to ask Tom out on a date instead of fucking him. He's slow, careful, and it's sweet, so sweet, but too much-a second helping of desert when Tom could barely handle one. The humming is back again, or maybe never left, and Tom hears it, hears heartbeats, hears ragged breathing. It's the best music, the most beautiful music, and he's so wrapped up in it that the fingers wrapping around him and stroking gently are a surprise. Tom makes a noise, and Alex laughs.
"Come on, love. It's okay."
That's what he needs or wants or whatever, it's all secondary to the blankness and total bliss of arching up and humming and kisses to his neck and Charlie crying out and everything everything.
It's like floating, and Tom never wants to come down.
----
Postit-Notes: OKAY IT'S OVER. BLARGH. Go request blowjobs.
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D