Fic: Equality
Title: Equality
Author: bubblegumhunny
Pairing/Characters: Luke/Reid
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1200+
Summary: Luke likes backs.
Warnings: rimming, toppy!Luke, and what I perceive to be the inside of Luke's brain (it's a complex place!)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dun sue!
Author's notes: Surprisingly, there is not much snark in this. Or crack. Or dialogue. It's pretty much just PWP. Done badly, because I fail at Luke's inner voice and it's unbetaed (I didn't want to bug anyone for something so short) and I also wrote it in ten minutes. This is not encouraging you to read it, is it. >_> Anyway, comments are always appreciated. I'll give you cookies? ღ
A white lab coat laid on the living room floor, abandoned. When Luke peeled it off Reid’s shoulders, along with his button-up shirt, he followed the newly revealed line of his back with a focused, reverent touch. Luke thought it was interesting the way backs were both parts masculine and feminine; the broad lines of the shoulder blades rolling down to the curved, breakable cradle of the hips. There was vulnerability and strength, but neither one overrode the other and Luke was obsessed with the way paying attention to both parts evoked different physical reactions, and the way paying attention to both parts at the same time created the perfect balance of pleasure. There was nothing to be uncertain about when you looked at a back.
It was true that Reid had more experience when it came to knowing the human body, but Luke was a quick learner, and it showed as he made his way down, down, down and then up again, tongue alternately flicking, licking, sucking and swirling, skin hot under his kiss swollen mouth. Reid’s head was bowed, fists clenching and unclenching against the wall above him. He didn’t like this, having his back turned and bared to judgement, but it also made him tremble with something --something that was building up and ready to crumble underneath the pressure. A want. To give in, to submit and hand himself over, relying on nothing but his trust in Luke and his hands, his words.
“Get fucking on with it,” Reid said. Patience had never been one of his virtues, it seemed, and Luke chuckled, creating a humming vibration that rocked up to tickle Reid’s ribs. He moved his mouth down further, going to his knees. He gently bit down on the soft muscle over the waistband of Reid’s jeans while simultaneously teasing a few fingers underneath the fabric, sandpaper rough in comparison to what his teeth had latched onto.
It was alien to Luke as much as it was alien to Reid. Luke wasn’t used to being in control and Reid wasn’t used to being out of control. Sometimes Luke wanted to be the one writhing under Reid’s intense, straight forward demands, but he’d also figured out he wanted to be the one to see Reid flayed open and uninhibited, completely unselfconscious and away from that facade of carelessness. He wanted to see it all.
He didn’t realize he’d been murmuring I want it, I want it, give it to me until Reid’s back sank into an arch and he said, “You can have it,” in a rough voice.
Luke felt it to the bottom of his toes. He would have sucked in a sharp breath if it hadn’t already been stolen, stuttering to a stop as his vision grew dark and hazy with images of everything his mind desired in that moment. He was a writer, after all; it was practically his job to make imaginary scenarios vivid and real. Except these scenarios weren’t imaginary. They were real. They were going to become real. He was going to bring them to life without the use of a pen and paper, of a laptop or a typewriter. He was going to use himself. He was going to make that rough voice wrecked, and he was going to pull any thought Reid had that wasn’t of Luke, of life and work and stress, right out of his head. His stomach was full, but Luke had never felt so hungry in his life.
Luke reached around the front of Reid’s jeans to pop open the button and undo the zipper, pushing them down over the swell of Reid’s ass without finesse, breath unsteady from holding it in but so, so ready. And Reid --Reid, who was silent, but let out a desperate noise that erupted from his throat without his permission when Luke parted his ass cheeks, tongue circling his entrance and pushing in.
Luke palmed his cock through his pants, eyes gone half-mast, too undone to care what he looked like right now, fully clothed and untouched but so close to coming, just from one single moan. He started sliding his tongue in and out in rhythm to the way Reid’s hips started moving, pushing back and forth, back and forth, seeking more in jerky little motions.
“Christ.” It broke in the middle, and Luke pulled his tongue out. He made it flat and stroked Reid’s hole from the bottom of the pucker to the top in three quick movements, earning himself a whimpering little fuck that cracked on the end. Reid's thighs were trembling, and Luke steadied them with a firm touch. A reassurance. Reid had to know, so Luke pulled back to tell him, “I’ve got you. Let go. Give me it like I know you need to. C’mon.”
It was nothing more than a whisper, but it was the exact thing Reid seemed to need to stop trying so hard to hide what he was feeling, and when Luke continued from where he left off, it was like a faucet that had been left in the frigid cold all winter finally turned on with the encouragement of heat. ...And, okay, it was obvious his mind was sinking in the gutter when his analogies started turning towards plumbing.
When Reid came it was on two of Luke’s warm, slick fingers and his tongue, and he sounded so surprised by it that if Luke didn’t know better he’d have been sure it was the first time Reid had ever done it. Luke moaned and thrust his fingers a few times through Reid’s aftershocks.
He felt like he was drugged, on power and on lust. It was too much, and the sight of Reid’s face when he looked up to see, eyes closed and utterly wrecked just like in his earlier vision, made everything burst into flames. He shot up from his spot on the ground like his knees were on fire and spun Reid around, pinning his wrists to the wall (and it said a lot when Reid did nothing to stop it from happening). Luke kissed him then, open mouthed and frantic, wanting Reid to taste exactly what had just went down, and exactly what it had done to him. When Reid remained compliant and let him do it, that was it. He came apart with a shaky, “Oh, God, oh,” and neither of them tried to stay upright when it was over.
They fell to the floor and stayed there, in a sweaty jumble of limbs, until Reid got uncomfortable and started bitching. He also wanted a sandwich, apparently, so he started to get up to go to the kitchen to make one, but Luke stopped him. He wasn’t stupid, and he saw the uneasy tension starting to crawl up Reid’s back. (He was starting to become an expert on back emotion.) With a gentle hand, he tugged Reid back down and pulled him in for another kiss, this one different than the last but just as effective on Reid as that one had been on him.
In the end, Luke wasn’t surprised to find himself still fully clothed, still fully untouched. With anyone else they might've been feeling disappointed with a heavy dose of 'no reciprocation blues', but Luke was completely satisfied.
Author: bubblegumhunny
Pairing/Characters: Luke/Reid
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1200+
Summary: Luke likes backs.
Warnings: rimming, toppy!Luke, and what I perceive to be the inside of Luke's brain (it's a complex place!)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dun sue!
Author's notes: Surprisingly, there is not much snark in this. Or crack. Or dialogue. It's pretty much just PWP. Done badly, because I fail at Luke's inner voice and it's unbetaed (I didn't want to bug anyone for something so short) and I also wrote it in ten minutes. This is not encouraging you to read it, is it. >_> Anyway, comments are always appreciated. I'll give you cookies? ღ
A white lab coat laid on the living room floor, abandoned. When Luke peeled it off Reid’s shoulders, along with his button-up shirt, he followed the newly revealed line of his back with a focused, reverent touch. Luke thought it was interesting the way backs were both parts masculine and feminine; the broad lines of the shoulder blades rolling down to the curved, breakable cradle of the hips. There was vulnerability and strength, but neither one overrode the other and Luke was obsessed with the way paying attention to both parts evoked different physical reactions, and the way paying attention to both parts at the same time created the perfect balance of pleasure. There was nothing to be uncertain about when you looked at a back.
It was true that Reid had more experience when it came to knowing the human body, but Luke was a quick learner, and it showed as he made his way down, down, down and then up again, tongue alternately flicking, licking, sucking and swirling, skin hot under his kiss swollen mouth. Reid’s head was bowed, fists clenching and unclenching against the wall above him. He didn’t like this, having his back turned and bared to judgement, but it also made him tremble with something --something that was building up and ready to crumble underneath the pressure. A want. To give in, to submit and hand himself over, relying on nothing but his trust in Luke and his hands, his words.
“Get fucking on with it,” Reid said. Patience had never been one of his virtues, it seemed, and Luke chuckled, creating a humming vibration that rocked up to tickle Reid’s ribs. He moved his mouth down further, going to his knees. He gently bit down on the soft muscle over the waistband of Reid’s jeans while simultaneously teasing a few fingers underneath the fabric, sandpaper rough in comparison to what his teeth had latched onto.
It was alien to Luke as much as it was alien to Reid. Luke wasn’t used to being in control and Reid wasn’t used to being out of control. Sometimes Luke wanted to be the one writhing under Reid’s intense, straight forward demands, but he’d also figured out he wanted to be the one to see Reid flayed open and uninhibited, completely unselfconscious and away from that facade of carelessness. He wanted to see it all.
He didn’t realize he’d been murmuring I want it, I want it, give it to me until Reid’s back sank into an arch and he said, “You can have it,” in a rough voice.
Luke felt it to the bottom of his toes. He would have sucked in a sharp breath if it hadn’t already been stolen, stuttering to a stop as his vision grew dark and hazy with images of everything his mind desired in that moment. He was a writer, after all; it was practically his job to make imaginary scenarios vivid and real. Except these scenarios weren’t imaginary. They were real. They were going to become real. He was going to bring them to life without the use of a pen and paper, of a laptop or a typewriter. He was going to use himself. He was going to make that rough voice wrecked, and he was going to pull any thought Reid had that wasn’t of Luke, of life and work and stress, right out of his head. His stomach was full, but Luke had never felt so hungry in his life.
Luke reached around the front of Reid’s jeans to pop open the button and undo the zipper, pushing them down over the swell of Reid’s ass without finesse, breath unsteady from holding it in but so, so ready. And Reid --Reid, who was silent, but let out a desperate noise that erupted from his throat without his permission when Luke parted his ass cheeks, tongue circling his entrance and pushing in.
Luke palmed his cock through his pants, eyes gone half-mast, too undone to care what he looked like right now, fully clothed and untouched but so close to coming, just from one single moan. He started sliding his tongue in and out in rhythm to the way Reid’s hips started moving, pushing back and forth, back and forth, seeking more in jerky little motions.
“Christ.” It broke in the middle, and Luke pulled his tongue out. He made it flat and stroked Reid’s hole from the bottom of the pucker to the top in three quick movements, earning himself a whimpering little fuck that cracked on the end. Reid's thighs were trembling, and Luke steadied them with a firm touch. A reassurance. Reid had to know, so Luke pulled back to tell him, “I’ve got you. Let go. Give me it like I know you need to. C’mon.”
It was nothing more than a whisper, but it was the exact thing Reid seemed to need to stop trying so hard to hide what he was feeling, and when Luke continued from where he left off, it was like a faucet that had been left in the frigid cold all winter finally turned on with the encouragement of heat. ...And, okay, it was obvious his mind was sinking in the gutter when his analogies started turning towards plumbing.
When Reid came it was on two of Luke’s warm, slick fingers and his tongue, and he sounded so surprised by it that if Luke didn’t know better he’d have been sure it was the first time Reid had ever done it. Luke moaned and thrust his fingers a few times through Reid’s aftershocks.
He felt like he was drugged, on power and on lust. It was too much, and the sight of Reid’s face when he looked up to see, eyes closed and utterly wrecked just like in his earlier vision, made everything burst into flames. He shot up from his spot on the ground like his knees were on fire and spun Reid around, pinning his wrists to the wall (and it said a lot when Reid did nothing to stop it from happening). Luke kissed him then, open mouthed and frantic, wanting Reid to taste exactly what had just went down, and exactly what it had done to him. When Reid remained compliant and let him do it, that was it. He came apart with a shaky, “Oh, God, oh,” and neither of them tried to stay upright when it was over.
They fell to the floor and stayed there, in a sweaty jumble of limbs, until Reid got uncomfortable and started bitching. He also wanted a sandwich, apparently, so he started to get up to go to the kitchen to make one, but Luke stopped him. He wasn’t stupid, and he saw the uneasy tension starting to crawl up Reid’s back. (He was starting to become an expert on back emotion.) With a gentle hand, he tugged Reid back down and pulled him in for another kiss, this one different than the last but just as effective on Reid as that one had been on him.
In the end, Luke wasn’t surprised to find himself still fully clothed, still fully untouched. With anyone else they might've been feeling disappointed with a heavy dose of 'no reciprocation blues', but Luke was completely satisfied.