Danny’s legs do give out at the first touch of Steve’s slick lips around his cock, staggers back and Steve half lowers him, half bears him to the floor and climbs on top, hands on Danny’s wrists and his knees planted outside Danny’s, legs angled so his shins cross Danny’s and keep him pinned. Struggling would require actual braincells, though, of which Danny has fuck all, all of them getting sucked out through the hot clutch of Steve’s mouth, tongue pushing the head of Danny’s cock up against Steve’s soft palette and mercilessly licking just under the ridge.
Danny almost fucking whites out-it’s so good, and it’s been so long, and it’s Steve and it’s just too much, but Steve is a god damn ninja and snaps his fingers around the base of Danny’s cock and shoves the flood of his orgasm back into the swollen clench of his balls, which only try to come up tighter when Danny gets a blurry glimpse of nail polish. Jesus Christ, it should not be so hot, and maybe Danny whines that out loud because Steve chuckles and that’s a whole new level of special hell. Danny’s free hand scrambles uselessly but it feels like nothing is in reach, when it’s just he doesn’t want to grab at Steve and fuck up whatever groove he’s got going. Danny breaks his own cardinal rule and buries his fingers in his own hair, twisting and tugging and messing it up beyond all repair as Steve goes to fucking town on his dick, bobbing down deeper and deeper until the head bumps the back of Steve’s throat and Danny wants to cry it feels so good.
The view is just. God, if this never happens again, this is what every single one of Danny’s wet dreams is going to be like. Steve, painted fucking jean-clad ass high in the air, swaying like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it as all his focus is on Danny’s cock, and Danny, and making Danny beg (which Danny is not too proud to do, he just can’t remember words). Danny is feeling delirious from the lack of blood in his upstairs brain, wants a clone of himself so he can get blown by Steve and come up behind him at the same time, pet that bared patch of skin in Steve’s jeans until he writhes and grind his cock against Steve’s ass until Steve is the same shaking mess that Danny is right now.
Steve pulls off with a slurp and a hint of teeth that makes Danny jerk and try desperately to come against the grip Steve has on his cock. “God, Danny,” he says, voice utterly wrecked, and licks at the fingers Danny doesn’t remember putting near his mouth. Danny crooks his fingers and Steve follows grinning, licking and nibbling at them all the way up Danny’s body until he’s within reach of Danny’s mouth again, and then-
Then Danny’s hand smacks down on Steve’s ass, right over that god damn hole, and Steve tenses every single muscle in his body, gasps once, broken against Danny’s mouth, and jolts, shudders, eyes so wide behind the smudge of his lashes that Danny could fall right in.
“Oh,” Steve pants, “Oh, shit.”
“Did you just-“
But Steve is rolling to one side, still as close to Danny as he can get without being on top of him, his own black-nailed hand pushing down at his crotch where if his jeans were just a shade or two lighter Danny might be able to see the dark spot spreading. Steve turns a really lovely shade of pink, hiding his groaning embarrassed laugh against Danny’s shoulder.
And if Steve isn’t the death of him, then Danny’s own imagination will be. He bites his bottom lip and turns his face away, cock aching hard and neglected as he creeps a hand toward it, thinking just one good stroke-
Steve bats his hand away, might say “What are you doing?” Definitely says, “I’ve got you, Danny, I do.” And then his gun-callused fingers are wrapped tight around Danny again, working him up, up, up and over before Danny can really brace for it, and he falls to fucking pieces all over Steve’s hand, splattering up his chest and ruining his tie, which he never even got out of. Danny moans as Steve wrings everything he’s got from him, panting out of breath like he just ran a mile.
Danny’s legs do give out at the first touch of Steve’s slick lips around his cock, staggers back and Steve half lowers him, half bears him to the floor and climbs on top, hands on Danny’s wrists and his knees planted outside Danny’s, legs angled so his shins cross Danny’s and keep him pinned. Struggling would require actual braincells, though, of which Danny has fuck all, all of them getting sucked out through the hot clutch of Steve’s mouth, tongue pushing the head of Danny’s cock up against Steve’s soft palette and mercilessly licking just under the ridge.
Danny almost fucking whites out-it’s so good, and it’s been so long, and it’s Steve and it’s just too much, but Steve is a god damn ninja and snaps his fingers around the base of Danny’s cock and shoves the flood of his orgasm back into the swollen clench of his balls, which only try to come up tighter when Danny gets a blurry glimpse of nail polish. Jesus Christ, it should not be so hot, and maybe Danny whines that out loud because Steve chuckles and that’s a whole new level of special hell. Danny’s free hand scrambles uselessly but it feels like nothing is in reach, when it’s just he doesn’t want to grab at Steve and fuck up whatever groove he’s got going. Danny breaks his own cardinal rule and buries his fingers in his own hair, twisting and tugging and messing it up beyond all repair as Steve goes to fucking town on his dick, bobbing down deeper and deeper until the head bumps the back of Steve’s throat and Danny wants to cry it feels so good.
The view is just. God, if this never happens again, this is what every single one of Danny’s wet dreams is going to be like. Steve, painted fucking jean-clad ass high in the air, swaying like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it as all his focus is on Danny’s cock, and Danny, and making Danny beg (which Danny is not too proud to do, he just can’t remember words). Danny is feeling delirious from the lack of blood in his upstairs brain, wants a clone of himself so he can get blown by Steve and come up behind him at the same time, pet that bared patch of skin in Steve’s jeans until he writhes and grind his cock against Steve’s ass until Steve is the same shaking mess that Danny is right now.
Steve pulls off with a slurp and a hint of teeth that makes Danny jerk and try desperately to come against the grip Steve has on his cock. “God, Danny,” he says, voice utterly wrecked, and licks at the fingers Danny doesn’t remember putting near his mouth. Danny crooks his fingers and Steve follows grinning, licking and nibbling at them all the way up Danny’s body until he’s within reach of Danny’s mouth again, and then-
Then Danny’s hand smacks down on Steve’s ass, right over that god damn hole, and Steve tenses every single muscle in his body, gasps once, broken against Danny’s mouth, and jolts, shudders, eyes so wide behind the smudge of his lashes that Danny could fall right in.
“Oh,” Steve pants, “Oh, shit.”
“Did you just-“
But Steve is rolling to one side, still as close to Danny as he can get without being on top of him, his own black-nailed hand pushing down at his crotch where if his jeans were just a shade or two lighter Danny might be able to see the dark spot spreading. Steve turns a really lovely shade of pink, hiding his groaning embarrassed laugh against Danny’s shoulder.
And if Steve isn’t the death of him, then Danny’s own imagination will be. He bites his bottom lip and turns his face away, cock aching hard and neglected as he creeps a hand toward it, thinking just one good stroke-
Steve bats his hand away, might say “What are you doing?” Definitely says, “I’ve got you, Danny, I do.” And then his gun-callused fingers are wrapped tight around Danny again, working him up, up, up and over before Danny can really brace for it, and he falls to fucking pieces all over Steve’s hand, splattering up his chest and ruining his tie, which he never even got out of. Danny moans as Steve wrings everything he’s got from him, panting out of breath like he just ran a mile.
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