Hanging on the Telephone.
Title: Hanging on the Telephone.
Author: mothergoddamn and wave_of_sorrow on porn.
Pairing/characters: Perry/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do not own, so do not sue.
Prompt: Written for this prompt.
Summary: Perry makes a quick call...
Hanging on the Telephone.
As cases go it wasn't the most exciting, just another cheating spouse case and an ill advised pre-nup in trouble. It was simple enough. All they had to do was catch Mrs Houghton in the arms of Nabu, the gardener. It appeared it wasn't just her roses he'd been pruning. The husband wanted evidence he could use in court, pictures of his beloved wife breaking the contract in every position. Which is why they had arranged this midnight excursion,
"Jesus Christ!" Perry exclaimed as Harry revealed himself, clad from head to toe in black. "What the hell are you wearing? Did Wendy forget to sew you back on to Pan?"
"What does that even mean? Anyway, you said discreet! This is discreet."
"Discreet! Not the unabomber! Is that...is that my Fred Perry shirt?"
"I don't see you name on it, Per...oh wait. Ha, isn't that weird? I mean that it does have your..."
"Can I just stop you there?" Perry asked, one finger raised.
"Sure, sure." Harry waited, his face expectant. "Well?"
"Nothing, I just had to stop you." Perry picked up the duffel bag and opened the front door. "Right, moron," he said as they walked. "You are watching the front of the house. I'll be at the back."
"Naturally."
"I'm taking the Jaguar, you take that thing you call a car." Perry continued, ignoring him neatly. "If Houghton's wife is doing the nasty on him then tonight's going to be the night. You got your camera?" Harry held it up in confirmation. "Okay, let's go."
--
Harry drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. Fuck, this was dull. In the movies there'd have been four explosions by now. Maybe a car chase or too. He looked at his watch and wished that the car he was sitting in was a DeLorean. Anything to speed this up. When the phone began to sound, his movements almost blurred in his speed to get to it.
"Ye'lo"
"First of all, it's hello and second of all, seen anything yet?" Perry asked.
"Yeah, sure. I would have called to tell you so we could go home but I just couldn't bear to leave this excitement behind."
"I'll take that as a no," he sighed heavily into the phone, causing tickling vibrations against Harry's ear.
"You know what I think? I think we should just go. She's clearly not falling for this one."
"She told Houghton that she was going to her mothers, that's usually the signal and...wait, a light just went on in the back bedroom!"
"You are shitting me, they've been in this entire time?!"
"It would seem so."
"Okay, okay. What are they doing? Can you get a decent shot?"
"Yeah, yeah. The net curtains are pretty thin." A click. "Kate Wharston, I believe."
"What? In there with them?"
"The net curtains, moron. Oh. Oh."
"What? What's happening now."
"They'll...well, they're making the most of their Saturday night."
"What? What? Tell me!"
"What are you? A teenager? Use your imagination."
Harry tried for a moment and failed. "Oh, come on. Please!"
"Okay, okay. All you breeders are perverts. Right, well. She's straddling him."
"Like...sexually?" Harry asked, remembering the curves of Mrs Houghton. Hard to forget, really.
"No. Like Seabiscuit. Of course sexually." Harry heard rustling as Perry shifted in his seat. "And now she's taking off her top."
Harry moaned softly, he'd seen pictures of course. And she was a complete babe. Fuck, the thought of all that impossibly creamy skin exposed and those perky breasts revealed, pink nipples hard and erect between his fingers. Lucky gardening bastard. "And...?"
"She's...she's running her hands over his chest. She's really working her hips against him. And her head is thrown back and her hands are rubbing over her own body, she must be hot. She's practically gleaming in light. They're stopping. No, he is just sitting up to take his shirt...Hello, Nabu!"
"What?" Harry shook his head as his imagination was invaded by a grinning Nabu. "Yeah, don't go into a lot of detail with that guy. What's she doing now?"
"Appreciating the view. As am I." Perry whistled low.
"I could care less what..."
"Couldn't."
"What?"
"You couldn't care less. To care less is idiomatic. It means that you must care a little. At least some."
"Jesus Christ, Perry! Will you cut the English teacher routine and get back to..."
"Okay, fine! Oh! They're both completely naked now!"
"And we missed it because you grammared all over it!"
"I'm not even touching that abortion." A silence fell between them for a moment as Harry tried to stop the visuals flooding his mind, all full lips parted around a soft moan, head thrown back to expose the tantalizing column of a throat, red nails digging into the bedding and soft thighs flexing.
"Perry?" Harry asked, after several minutes, unable to take it anymore.
"Seriously? Shouldn't you be paying me eight bucks a minute or something? She's...licking his chest by the look of it." Another click down the line, another Kodak moment. "Yeah, she's licking his nipples. Along his chest. Slowly."
"Go on,” Harry breathed. Christ, he could almost see it.
"She's heading south now. Jesus, he's hairy down there. I like it."
"Oh, ew. Less of the dude and more of the chick!"
"Harry." There was a slight change in Perry's voice, almost like something clicking into place. "Harry, Harry, Harry." Perry gave a small chuckle.
At the back of Harry's mind he knew this was weird, that friends didn't do this. But it had been so long since he'd been laid and they'd been so busy of late that he hadn't even been able to release tension at night, with his trusty DVD collection. Then again, as a teenager it wasn't as if he hadn't enjoyed porn films with buddies, this was pretty much the same thing. Wasn't it?
"She's licking the tip of his cock, gently tonguing the slit," Perry continued and Harry tried to bite back a gasp but it was too strong and it escaped as a strangled groan. "She’s taking him into her mouth, sliding her lips down the shaft. He’s big. Really big." Harry didn’t even try to stifle his groan this time and his hand strayed to the front of his jeans, pressing the heel of it against the hard bulge there, making fabric shift and rub over his cock. Was that too far?
"Perry..." he began with no idea what lay at the end of the sentence, his voice too low and breathy for his liking. He just knew that Perry's hitched breath was sounding deep into his ear, the phone was sweaty against his palm and at some point his own cock had got harder than hell, throbbing faintly against his zipper. Could he really use Perry in such a way? And what if Perry realized what he was doing? Christ, it would be mortifying! But Perry's voice had taken on this low, dirty, sleazy quality that really wasn't helping him keep control.
"She loves it, you can tell." Perry continued as if had never spoke. "She loves the taste, the feel, the control. And she's good, really good. He's thrusting up now, into that hot...wet...mouth." Fuck it. Harry didn't bother to unbutton his jeans, his hand so desperate to reach his cock he shoved it down his waistband, groaning as his sweaty palm made contact. "She's going faster now. Harder and taking more and more in. Blowing him, sucking you!" Neither mentioned the slip, Harry didn't care. From the heavy breathing coming down the line Perry didn't care either.
"Please, Perry!" Harry gasped, as he wrapped his hand around his cock, hips jerking into the touch. He licked his lips and pushed his head back against the seat as a tightness gathered low in his abdomen, his own pre-come making his grip slippery and wet. "Please!"
"Are you touching yourself? Imagine that it's my mouth on your cock, my tongue lapping at your balls. Can you? Can you feel me fucking you with my mouth?" Perry's words were distorted as his gasped around them. It didn't take much imagination to guess what he was up to on the end of his line. Instead of disturbing him the thought of Perry masturbating was the very thing to send him over the edge, images of Perry sitting in his car just like Harry, legs spread and hips bucking, hard cock sliding through his fist, invading his mind.
"I'm going to...oh, God. I can't, I can't..." Harry bit his lip, barely stifling his moans, as he found his release, come spurting between his fingers, a wet patch growing on his jeans, the phone slipping from his hand and falling to the floor with a dull thud.
"Harry? Harry?" He heard his name coming from the floor, and with a shaky hand bent over and retrieved it.
"Ye...yeah?" he panted, feeling a blush settling over his cheeks.
"Are you...I mean...I don't..." As Perry stuttered headlights shone into the Harry's car. Someone was coming! He ducked down low and peeked over the dashboard at the oncoming car.
"Perry? You won't believe who just pulled up."
"Who?" Perry asked, trepidation lining his voice.
"Mrs Houghton and Nabu. How about that, Perry?" Harry grinned into the cell.
"Oh. Right, I can explain! You see..."
"Nevermind, you can tell me all about it. At home. In detail."
"Really?" Perry's voice dipped low again, once more taking on that seedy quality and impossibly making Harry's cock twitch again in interest.
"Really! Hit the fucking gas." He hung up before Perry could reply and started the car. He hoped there won't any cops because he was about to break every speed limit possible.
THE END
SHAMELESS PLUGS
MOTHER GODDAMN FIC LIST
WAVE OF SORROW FIC LIST
Author: mothergoddamn and wave_of_sorrow on porn.
Pairing/characters: Perry/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do not own, so do not sue.
Prompt: Written for this prompt.
Summary: Perry makes a quick call...
Hanging on the Telephone.
As cases go it wasn't the most exciting, just another cheating spouse case and an ill advised pre-nup in trouble. It was simple enough. All they had to do was catch Mrs Houghton in the arms of Nabu, the gardener. It appeared it wasn't just her roses he'd been pruning. The husband wanted evidence he could use in court, pictures of his beloved wife breaking the contract in every position. Which is why they had arranged this midnight excursion,
"Jesus Christ!" Perry exclaimed as Harry revealed himself, clad from head to toe in black. "What the hell are you wearing? Did Wendy forget to sew you back on to Pan?"
"What does that even mean? Anyway, you said discreet! This is discreet."
"Discreet! Not the unabomber! Is that...is that my Fred Perry shirt?"
"I don't see you name on it, Per...oh wait. Ha, isn't that weird? I mean that it does have your..."
"Can I just stop you there?" Perry asked, one finger raised.
"Sure, sure." Harry waited, his face expectant. "Well?"
"Nothing, I just had to stop you." Perry picked up the duffel bag and opened the front door. "Right, moron," he said as they walked. "You are watching the front of the house. I'll be at the back."
"Naturally."
"I'm taking the Jaguar, you take that thing you call a car." Perry continued, ignoring him neatly. "If Houghton's wife is doing the nasty on him then tonight's going to be the night. You got your camera?" Harry held it up in confirmation. "Okay, let's go."
--
Harry drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. Fuck, this was dull. In the movies there'd have been four explosions by now. Maybe a car chase or too. He looked at his watch and wished that the car he was sitting in was a DeLorean. Anything to speed this up. When the phone began to sound, his movements almost blurred in his speed to get to it.
"Ye'lo"
"First of all, it's hello and second of all, seen anything yet?" Perry asked.
"Yeah, sure. I would have called to tell you so we could go home but I just couldn't bear to leave this excitement behind."
"I'll take that as a no," he sighed heavily into the phone, causing tickling vibrations against Harry's ear.
"You know what I think? I think we should just go. She's clearly not falling for this one."
"She told Houghton that she was going to her mothers, that's usually the signal and...wait, a light just went on in the back bedroom!"
"You are shitting me, they've been in this entire time?!"
"It would seem so."
"Okay, okay. What are they doing? Can you get a decent shot?"
"Yeah, yeah. The net curtains are pretty thin." A click. "Kate Wharston, I believe."
"What? In there with them?"
"The net curtains, moron. Oh. Oh."
"What? What's happening now."
"They'll...well, they're making the most of their Saturday night."
"What? What? Tell me!"
"What are you? A teenager? Use your imagination."
Harry tried for a moment and failed. "Oh, come on. Please!"
"Okay, okay. All you breeders are perverts. Right, well. She's straddling him."
"Like...sexually?" Harry asked, remembering the curves of Mrs Houghton. Hard to forget, really.
"No. Like Seabiscuit. Of course sexually." Harry heard rustling as Perry shifted in his seat. "And now she's taking off her top."
Harry moaned softly, he'd seen pictures of course. And she was a complete babe. Fuck, the thought of all that impossibly creamy skin exposed and those perky breasts revealed, pink nipples hard and erect between his fingers. Lucky gardening bastard. "And...?"
"She's...she's running her hands over his chest. She's really working her hips against him. And her head is thrown back and her hands are rubbing over her own body, she must be hot. She's practically gleaming in light. They're stopping. No, he is just sitting up to take his shirt...Hello, Nabu!"
"What?" Harry shook his head as his imagination was invaded by a grinning Nabu. "Yeah, don't go into a lot of detail with that guy. What's she doing now?"
"Appreciating the view. As am I." Perry whistled low.
"I could care less what..."
"Couldn't."
"What?"
"You couldn't care less. To care less is idiomatic. It means that you must care a little. At least some."
"Jesus Christ, Perry! Will you cut the English teacher routine and get back to..."
"Okay, fine! Oh! They're both completely naked now!"
"And we missed it because you grammared all over it!"
"I'm not even touching that abortion." A silence fell between them for a moment as Harry tried to stop the visuals flooding his mind, all full lips parted around a soft moan, head thrown back to expose the tantalizing column of a throat, red nails digging into the bedding and soft thighs flexing.
"Perry?" Harry asked, after several minutes, unable to take it anymore.
"Seriously? Shouldn't you be paying me eight bucks a minute or something? She's...licking his chest by the look of it." Another click down the line, another Kodak moment. "Yeah, she's licking his nipples. Along his chest. Slowly."
"Go on,” Harry breathed. Christ, he could almost see it.
"She's heading south now. Jesus, he's hairy down there. I like it."
"Oh, ew. Less of the dude and more of the chick!"
"Harry." There was a slight change in Perry's voice, almost like something clicking into place. "Harry, Harry, Harry." Perry gave a small chuckle.
At the back of Harry's mind he knew this was weird, that friends didn't do this. But it had been so long since he'd been laid and they'd been so busy of late that he hadn't even been able to release tension at night, with his trusty DVD collection. Then again, as a teenager it wasn't as if he hadn't enjoyed porn films with buddies, this was pretty much the same thing. Wasn't it?
"She's licking the tip of his cock, gently tonguing the slit," Perry continued and Harry tried to bite back a gasp but it was too strong and it escaped as a strangled groan. "She’s taking him into her mouth, sliding her lips down the shaft. He’s big. Really big." Harry didn’t even try to stifle his groan this time and his hand strayed to the front of his jeans, pressing the heel of it against the hard bulge there, making fabric shift and rub over his cock. Was that too far?
"Perry..." he began with no idea what lay at the end of the sentence, his voice too low and breathy for his liking. He just knew that Perry's hitched breath was sounding deep into his ear, the phone was sweaty against his palm and at some point his own cock had got harder than hell, throbbing faintly against his zipper. Could he really use Perry in such a way? And what if Perry realized what he was doing? Christ, it would be mortifying! But Perry's voice had taken on this low, dirty, sleazy quality that really wasn't helping him keep control.
"She loves it, you can tell." Perry continued as if had never spoke. "She loves the taste, the feel, the control. And she's good, really good. He's thrusting up now, into that hot...wet...mouth." Fuck it. Harry didn't bother to unbutton his jeans, his hand so desperate to reach his cock he shoved it down his waistband, groaning as his sweaty palm made contact. "She's going faster now. Harder and taking more and more in. Blowing him, sucking you!" Neither mentioned the slip, Harry didn't care. From the heavy breathing coming down the line Perry didn't care either.
"Please, Perry!" Harry gasped, as he wrapped his hand around his cock, hips jerking into the touch. He licked his lips and pushed his head back against the seat as a tightness gathered low in his abdomen, his own pre-come making his grip slippery and wet. "Please!"
"Are you touching yourself? Imagine that it's my mouth on your cock, my tongue lapping at your balls. Can you? Can you feel me fucking you with my mouth?" Perry's words were distorted as his gasped around them. It didn't take much imagination to guess what he was up to on the end of his line. Instead of disturbing him the thought of Perry masturbating was the very thing to send him over the edge, images of Perry sitting in his car just like Harry, legs spread and hips bucking, hard cock sliding through his fist, invading his mind.
"I'm going to...oh, God. I can't, I can't..." Harry bit his lip, barely stifling his moans, as he found his release, come spurting between his fingers, a wet patch growing on his jeans, the phone slipping from his hand and falling to the floor with a dull thud.
"Harry? Harry?" He heard his name coming from the floor, and with a shaky hand bent over and retrieved it.
"Ye...yeah?" he panted, feeling a blush settling over his cheeks.
"Are you...I mean...I don't..." As Perry stuttered headlights shone into the Harry's car. Someone was coming! He ducked down low and peeked over the dashboard at the oncoming car.
"Perry? You won't believe who just pulled up."
"Who?" Perry asked, trepidation lining his voice.
"Mrs Houghton and Nabu. How about that, Perry?" Harry grinned into the cell.
"Oh. Right, I can explain! You see..."
"Nevermind, you can tell me all about it. At home. In detail."
"Really?" Perry's voice dipped low again, once more taking on that seedy quality and impossibly making Harry's cock twitch again in interest.
"Really! Hit the fucking gas." He hung up before Perry could reply and started the car. He hoped there won't any cops because he was about to break every speed limit possible.
THE END
SHAMELESS PLUGS
MOTHER GODDAMN FIC LIST
WAVE OF SORROW FIC LIST