God damn it
Yeah, I went ahead and wrote Craig Ferguson/Conan O'Brien fan fiction. Damn it.
Title: Late Night in L.A. (yes, the title is cheesy as fuck, but I DON'T CARE.)
Author: Me. Who else could come up with this stuff?
Pairing: Craig Ferguson/Conan O'Brien
Rating: R-ish.
Genre: RPS. A little schmoop, a lot of smut.
Warnings: Contains adult content between two members of the same sex. If that isn't your bag, don't read this. Also has some adult language.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, completely, 100% fictitious. I make no claims to the personalities or sexual proclivities of the real Craig Ferguson and Conan O'Brien, and I own nothing and no one in this fic. So don't sue me, cause I'm a broke grad student and I'd have to pay you in tiny little packets of Chinese mustard.
Summary: With the tumultuous turn of events at NBC, Conan's having a hard time and is in need of comfort. Craig gives it to him.
Author's Note: So yeah. I can't believe I'm writing this. If Craig didn't have a sexy Scottish burr, there's a 75% chance that this would never have happened. Just saying.
"You're home early."
"Didn't feel like meeting with yet more cronies, funnily enough."
Conan sighed, throwing his coat onto a nearby chair and kicking off his shoes. He cast a glance over at Craig, who was already lying on his side half-undressed in bed.
"How come you're so calm?"
"Well, my job's secure. Mostly because no one else wants it, y'see." He grinned cheekily at the red-haired man, who threw a pillow at his head, but missed as he ducked right in the nick of time.
Conan moved closer, sticking his tongue out at Craig as he turned around and sat down. He was tired, both physically and mentally, and his lanky frame seemed to curl into itself as he hunched over the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped and full of defeat.
"Oh, come now," Craig purred soothingly. He inched closer to Conan, spooning up behind him and splaying his long legs on either side of his body. Conan glanced down briefly, eyeing the bare feet sticking out of black trousers. He tensed momentarily as Craig slid his arms in between his own, then relaxed, melting back into the Scot's embrace.
"This whole thing is more than I can take. I have to stand there and smile and act like everything's fine when I'd rather be punching holes in the wall and stuffing suits in them!"
"Shh," Craig rested his chin on Conan's shoulder. "I'm the surly drunk of the two of us here, remember? Leave the glorified bar fights to me, eh?"
Conan turned his head to look at the man behind him, gazing into bright, blue eyes.
"You know, sometimes I wish I were more like you."
Craig looked surprised at this, brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at Conan bemusedly. "Now why would you want that, hmm? Why be a pale Scotsman when you can be a pale Irishman instead?"
"Remind me again why I keep coming here."
"Because this is the best apartment we could get with my salary."
Conan chuckled at this, the lines on his face becoming visible as he smiled. He closed his eyes as he felt Craig's nimble fingers undoing his tie. The silken fabric was soon pressed against the soft skin of Conan's neck, and Craig pulled gently, tilting his head back. He brought a hand to Conan's cheek, caressing his thumb back and forth before leaning down to kiss him.
"Mmm..." a soft moan sounded from the back of Conan's throat as he returned the kiss.
He twisted his upper body around to face Craig, pressing a hand to his chest and gripping the fabric of the white undershirt that he wore. Craig quickly unbuttoned Conan's suit jacket, tossing it and the tie aside, leaving him only in his white dress shirt.
Not being one for formalities or things that involved patience, Craig ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying every which way. Conan gasped at the sudden feeling of cool air on his skin, and Craig took the opportunity to slide his tongue into his mouth. His hands roamed wildly over Conan's now-bare chest, indulging in every contour and dip of his slender body.
He reached a hand up and pinched one of Conan's nipples, loving the breathy groan that came from him in response.
Conan pulled back, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.
"Wow...someone's certainly in a mood tonight!" he laughed, shrugging out of his torn shirt.
"Eh, what can I say...you after a battle with those lying rat bastards just gets me all hot and bothered."
Craig's hands were soon on him again, moving around to his back and pulling him close. He leaned in, pressing his face to Conan's neck and inhaling the faint hint of aftershave that lingered there, along with Conan's own natural musk. Too turned on to stay in one spot for long, Craig began to nibble at the heated skin, moving lower to kiss the top of a lightly freckled shoulder.
"Craig?" Conan's voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that had filled the room in the last few moments.
"Hmm?" The dark-haired man didn't bother to look up, but slid a hand into Conan's hair, threading the ginger locks through his fingers.
"Am I--" Conan faltered momentarily. "Shit. I don't even know how to ask this."
"Try using words. That can help."
Conan laughed softly, shaking his head. He sometimes wished that Craig would be more serious, but liked that he always knew how to calm his nerves with an appropriately (or inappropriately, as the case tended to be) timed joke.
He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Am I doing the right thing?"
The question gave Craig pause. He sat back, moving his hands to rest on Conan's shoulders, and lifted his head to look him in the eye as he spoke.
"That's not a question I've often stopped to ask myself, really. First time I ever did, it was hard as hell to answer, 'cause I had to be straight with myself instead of havin' a drink do the talking for me. But in all the time that I've known you, you've done nothing but the right thing. Every step of this whole fucking mess, you've stopped to think about your staff and all those who it's affecting. I've never seen a man more honest, more dedicated to his convictions or to making damn sure that others are taken care of in addition to himself."
"...So is that a yes, or a no?" Conan was smiling, even as his voice quavered slightly. For once, Craig wasn't being sarcastic, and he knew it. He bowed his head, trying to hide the tears springing up at the corners of his eyes.
Craig's grip on his shoulders tightened then, and immediately Conan looked up, quickly wiping his eyes with his arm. Craig raised an eyebrow at this, half amused and half concerned.
"It's nothing." Conan scoffed dismissively. "It was raining on my face. What were you saying?"
"What I'm trying to tell you is that you're doing the absolute best that you can, which is better than most people's 'best' by several orders of measure. I've known a lot of people in this business, and you are one of the kindest souls that I've ever come across. You're going to bounce back from this, and any network that takes you in will be damned lucky to have you."
Conan couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face then. He didn't even get to respond before Craig smashed their lips together in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as they fought for dominance. Craig pulled back, ending the kiss as quick as it had started, leaving Conan in a half-aroused daze. He focused on Craig's eyes, which had changed to a dark blue, marking Craig's own rapidly heightening arousal.
"Now shut up and take off your pants." Conan shivered at the sound of Craig's accent, now thickened by lust.
"With pleasure," he replied, sliding out of Craig's grip and sitting up just enough to undo the button on his trousers. He unbuckled his belt first, tossing the strip of leather free, then hooked his thumbs into the loops, slowly pulled down his pants and underwear until just the top of a light-colored thatch of pubic hair was visible.
"You're a fucking tease," Craig growled, grabbing the waistband and yanking down roughly until Conan's pants were around his ankles. Conan felt his pulse quicken at Craig's impatience and hurriedly kicked the pants off, so eager was he for what lie ahead.
Craig's gaze traveled down the tall man's body to his exquisitely pale, freckled thighs and the impressive erection that lie between them. He could feel his own pressing insistently against the front of his trousers, and he lowered a hand to grasp his aching cock through the fabric.
Craig scooted back onto the bed, stripping off his undershirt along the way and throwing it to the floor. He nodded to Conan, who knelt down onto the mattress and began to crawl towards him, hands sliding up Craig's smooth stomach to his chest, tweaking one nipple gently to return the action that was done to him earlier.
The dark-haired man grunted at the combined sensations of pain and pleasure that flooded his sense at that moment. "More," he ordered, his groans growing louder as Conan did the same to his other nipple.
Craig could feel his cock twitch in his pants, and gave in to his rapidly crumbling self-control, reaching his hands around to Conan's ass and gripping tightly, shoving the man forward until his erection was just inches from his lips.
A gentle flick of Craig's tongue over the head was all it took for Conan's knees to nearly buckle. He clapped a hand to Craig's shoulder, fingers digging in as the heat of his mouth engulfed him.
"Fuck..." Conan sighed, head tipping back as the blissful sensations traveled up his spine. Craig was relentless, taking him down to the root, hollowing his cheeks and rendering Conan incoherent from the glorious suction. He licked a long stripe up the underside, tonguing the head once more before deep throating him again.
Conan sighs turned to gasps, and he began to move his hips against Craig's face. The more he thrust, the harder Craig would suck, and they soon fell into an urgent rhythm. Conan threaded his fingers in the back of Craig's hair, causing the Scot to look up at him, and he felt his cock throb at the sight of those blazing eyes meeting his own.
"Unnghh, Craig...I can't--I'm gonna--" Conan panted between words, struggling to stay sane as Craig held his hips steady and the familiar ball of fire began to form in the pit of his stomach.
One of Craig's hands crept around to Conan's ass again, tracing up and down the cleft of the firm, round cheeks. Craig circled around the puckered opening just briefly, then pushed in, breaching the tight ring of muscle.
"SHIT!" Conan cried out as Craig's finger moved within him, angling perfectly to brush against his prostate. A brilliant flash of white heat shot through him as his sweet spot was stimulated again and again, and he found he could no longer hold on.
With one final thrust, Conan's orgasm ripped through him, bursts of what felt like electric shocks darting from his hair follicles to toes as he called out Craig's name in a half-choked groan. Craig held the trembling man still, swallowing his release without hesitation, and continued to suck on his now-softening cock until it became too sensitive to handle.
Craig sat back against the headboard, fingers twined together above his head as he regarded Conan with a satisfied smirk. The redhead continued to breathe heavily, trying with all his might to come back down to Earth. The bulge in Craig's pants was enormous, and he craved his lover more than usual with the taste of him now fresh on his tongue.
Conan straddled one leg on either side of Craig's body, hands furiously tearing at the waistband of his trousers. Craig said nothing, lifting his hips momentarily so that Conan could slide his pants and underwear down and push them off. He sighed at the feel of the cool air on his overheated flesh, and brought a hand down to grasp his erection, the tip of which was already glossy with precum.
"Ohhh..." Craig groaned as he began to stroke himself slowly. He loved having Conan watch him as much as Conan loved to watch, and he sped up his ministrations as he remembered how amazing the other man had felt in the midst of his climax.
But Conan had other ideas, wanting desperately to return the favor. He gently pushed Craig's hand away, replacing it with his own. Craig moaned loudly, the warmth of the younger man's large hand heavenly on his cock. Conan continued with the pace Craig set, lowering himself onto his body as he did. Both men groaned as their heated torsos made contact, and Craig swore aloud at the feel of his cock in between them.
"Christ...do it just like that...fuck!" he hissed, his hands grasping Conan's back as their motions grew more frantic. A thin sheen of sweat had begun to form on Craig's chest as he thrust up into Conan's hand.
Knowing how much Craig enjoyed being in control during these moments, Conan swiftly reversed their positions, so that Craig was on top. He delighted in the change, grunting almost primitively as he ground into the body below him.
"Unnghh, so good...fucking love you, fucking love fucking you..." the words poured freely from Craig's mouth as Conan's jerking grew more furious.
Conan could tell Craig was getting close, the dirty talk and thrusting the telltale signs of his ascent to climax. He reached a hand around to Craig's back, digging his nails in deep and scratching down the pale skin.
"FUCK!!" Craig cried out, the pain soon melding into unbridled pleasure. "More...Jesus, keep going...make it hurt..." he groaned. Conan gladly obliged, lifting a hand and bringing it down to one of Craig's asscheeks in a ringing SMACK!, sending Craig hurtling forward as he groaned loudly.
"AGAIN!" he roared, thrusting so hard against Conan that they both knew there'd be bruises to contend with in the morning. Conan did as he was told, spanking Craig again and again until his ass and Conan's hair started to resemble each other. Conan held a hand over Craig's ass, loving the heat that radiated from the reddened flesh.
And now, for my last trick... Conan thought, moving the hand down to grasp Craig's balls, rolling and squeezing them between his fingers.
That proved to be the final push that sent Craig over the edge, and he bit down hard on Conan's shoulder as he came, muffling his howl of pleasure. His hips spasmed and twitched as his cum spurted out onto Conan's hand and stomach, and now it was Conan's turn to hold him steady, his hand nearly slipping off of Craig's glistening back.
Craig slowly lifted his head, trying not to chuckle at the teeth marks embedded in Conan's shoulder. His hair was wild and damp with sweat as he pulled back, heart beating rapidly and faster still as he looked down at his lover.
Without a word, Craig kissed Conan, trying to siphon the air from Conan's lungs into his own so that he could breathe again. He brought a hand to Conan's hair, caressing it gently. Neither man spoke, but continued to gaze at each other, basking in the love that filled each of them as they did.
Craig finally rolled off of Conan, who sighed almost exaggeratedly with relief. Craig turned to look at him.
"Oh, come on. I'm not that fat."
"No, you're not, but it's a little hard to breathe when you're practically dry humping me to China," Conan quipped.
Craig laughed loudly at this, sliding an arm around Conan's shoulder as he pulled him close to lie on his chest.
"So did you have a good night, then?" he asked.
"Eh, well, the blowjob could've been better," Conan deadpanned. The room fell into total silence for a moment, until both men finally broke up laughing.
The laughter began to die down as exhaustion set in, and Craig reached down for the rumpled blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it up and over them. He pressed a soft kiss to Conan's forehead, closing his eyes in his readiness to welcome sleep.
"Craig?" Conan's voice wafted up to his ears.
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
A smile crept across Craig's face there in the dark, the rapid heartbeat kicking up once more.
"Love you, too."
Title: Late Night in L.A. (yes, the title is cheesy as fuck, but I DON'T CARE.)
Author: Me. Who else could come up with this stuff?
Pairing: Craig Ferguson/Conan O'Brien
Rating: R-ish.
Genre: RPS. A little schmoop, a lot of smut.
Warnings: Contains adult content between two members of the same sex. If that isn't your bag, don't read this. Also has some adult language.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, completely, 100% fictitious. I make no claims to the personalities or sexual proclivities of the real Craig Ferguson and Conan O'Brien, and I own nothing and no one in this fic. So don't sue me, cause I'm a broke grad student and I'd have to pay you in tiny little packets of Chinese mustard.
Summary: With the tumultuous turn of events at NBC, Conan's having a hard time and is in need of comfort. Craig gives it to him.
Author's Note: So yeah. I can't believe I'm writing this. If Craig didn't have a sexy Scottish burr, there's a 75% chance that this would never have happened. Just saying.
"You're home early."
"Didn't feel like meeting with yet more cronies, funnily enough."
Conan sighed, throwing his coat onto a nearby chair and kicking off his shoes. He cast a glance over at Craig, who was already lying on his side half-undressed in bed.
"How come you're so calm?"
"Well, my job's secure. Mostly because no one else wants it, y'see." He grinned cheekily at the red-haired man, who threw a pillow at his head, but missed as he ducked right in the nick of time.
Conan moved closer, sticking his tongue out at Craig as he turned around and sat down. He was tired, both physically and mentally, and his lanky frame seemed to curl into itself as he hunched over the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped and full of defeat.
"Oh, come now," Craig purred soothingly. He inched closer to Conan, spooning up behind him and splaying his long legs on either side of his body. Conan glanced down briefly, eyeing the bare feet sticking out of black trousers. He tensed momentarily as Craig slid his arms in between his own, then relaxed, melting back into the Scot's embrace.
"This whole thing is more than I can take. I have to stand there and smile and act like everything's fine when I'd rather be punching holes in the wall and stuffing suits in them!"
"Shh," Craig rested his chin on Conan's shoulder. "I'm the surly drunk of the two of us here, remember? Leave the glorified bar fights to me, eh?"
Conan turned his head to look at the man behind him, gazing into bright, blue eyes.
"You know, sometimes I wish I were more like you."
Craig looked surprised at this, brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at Conan bemusedly. "Now why would you want that, hmm? Why be a pale Scotsman when you can be a pale Irishman instead?"
"Remind me again why I keep coming here."
"Because this is the best apartment we could get with my salary."
Conan chuckled at this, the lines on his face becoming visible as he smiled. He closed his eyes as he felt Craig's nimble fingers undoing his tie. The silken fabric was soon pressed against the soft skin of Conan's neck, and Craig pulled gently, tilting his head back. He brought a hand to Conan's cheek, caressing his thumb back and forth before leaning down to kiss him.
"Mmm..." a soft moan sounded from the back of Conan's throat as he returned the kiss.
He twisted his upper body around to face Craig, pressing a hand to his chest and gripping the fabric of the white undershirt that he wore. Craig quickly unbuttoned Conan's suit jacket, tossing it and the tie aside, leaving him only in his white dress shirt.
Not being one for formalities or things that involved patience, Craig ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying every which way. Conan gasped at the sudden feeling of cool air on his skin, and Craig took the opportunity to slide his tongue into his mouth. His hands roamed wildly over Conan's now-bare chest, indulging in every contour and dip of his slender body.
He reached a hand up and pinched one of Conan's nipples, loving the breathy groan that came from him in response.
Conan pulled back, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.
"Wow...someone's certainly in a mood tonight!" he laughed, shrugging out of his torn shirt.
"Eh, what can I say...you after a battle with those lying rat bastards just gets me all hot and bothered."
Craig's hands were soon on him again, moving around to his back and pulling him close. He leaned in, pressing his face to Conan's neck and inhaling the faint hint of aftershave that lingered there, along with Conan's own natural musk. Too turned on to stay in one spot for long, Craig began to nibble at the heated skin, moving lower to kiss the top of a lightly freckled shoulder.
"Craig?" Conan's voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that had filled the room in the last few moments.
"Hmm?" The dark-haired man didn't bother to look up, but slid a hand into Conan's hair, threading the ginger locks through his fingers.
"Am I--" Conan faltered momentarily. "Shit. I don't even know how to ask this."
"Try using words. That can help."
Conan laughed softly, shaking his head. He sometimes wished that Craig would be more serious, but liked that he always knew how to calm his nerves with an appropriately (or inappropriately, as the case tended to be) timed joke.
He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Am I doing the right thing?"
The question gave Craig pause. He sat back, moving his hands to rest on Conan's shoulders, and lifted his head to look him in the eye as he spoke.
"That's not a question I've often stopped to ask myself, really. First time I ever did, it was hard as hell to answer, 'cause I had to be straight with myself instead of havin' a drink do the talking for me. But in all the time that I've known you, you've done nothing but the right thing. Every step of this whole fucking mess, you've stopped to think about your staff and all those who it's affecting. I've never seen a man more honest, more dedicated to his convictions or to making damn sure that others are taken care of in addition to himself."
"...So is that a yes, or a no?" Conan was smiling, even as his voice quavered slightly. For once, Craig wasn't being sarcastic, and he knew it. He bowed his head, trying to hide the tears springing up at the corners of his eyes.
Craig's grip on his shoulders tightened then, and immediately Conan looked up, quickly wiping his eyes with his arm. Craig raised an eyebrow at this, half amused and half concerned.
"It's nothing." Conan scoffed dismissively. "It was raining on my face. What were you saying?"
"What I'm trying to tell you is that you're doing the absolute best that you can, which is better than most people's 'best' by several orders of measure. I've known a lot of people in this business, and you are one of the kindest souls that I've ever come across. You're going to bounce back from this, and any network that takes you in will be damned lucky to have you."
Conan couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face then. He didn't even get to respond before Craig smashed their lips together in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as they fought for dominance. Craig pulled back, ending the kiss as quick as it had started, leaving Conan in a half-aroused daze. He focused on Craig's eyes, which had changed to a dark blue, marking Craig's own rapidly heightening arousal.
"Now shut up and take off your pants." Conan shivered at the sound of Craig's accent, now thickened by lust.
"With pleasure," he replied, sliding out of Craig's grip and sitting up just enough to undo the button on his trousers. He unbuckled his belt first, tossing the strip of leather free, then hooked his thumbs into the loops, slowly pulled down his pants and underwear until just the top of a light-colored thatch of pubic hair was visible.
"You're a fucking tease," Craig growled, grabbing the waistband and yanking down roughly until Conan's pants were around his ankles. Conan felt his pulse quicken at Craig's impatience and hurriedly kicked the pants off, so eager was he for what lie ahead.
Craig's gaze traveled down the tall man's body to his exquisitely pale, freckled thighs and the impressive erection that lie between them. He could feel his own pressing insistently against the front of his trousers, and he lowered a hand to grasp his aching cock through the fabric.
Craig scooted back onto the bed, stripping off his undershirt along the way and throwing it to the floor. He nodded to Conan, who knelt down onto the mattress and began to crawl towards him, hands sliding up Craig's smooth stomach to his chest, tweaking one nipple gently to return the action that was done to him earlier.
The dark-haired man grunted at the combined sensations of pain and pleasure that flooded his sense at that moment. "More," he ordered, his groans growing louder as Conan did the same to his other nipple.
Craig could feel his cock twitch in his pants, and gave in to his rapidly crumbling self-control, reaching his hands around to Conan's ass and gripping tightly, shoving the man forward until his erection was just inches from his lips.
A gentle flick of Craig's tongue over the head was all it took for Conan's knees to nearly buckle. He clapped a hand to Craig's shoulder, fingers digging in as the heat of his mouth engulfed him.
"Fuck..." Conan sighed, head tipping back as the blissful sensations traveled up his spine. Craig was relentless, taking him down to the root, hollowing his cheeks and rendering Conan incoherent from the glorious suction. He licked a long stripe up the underside, tonguing the head once more before deep throating him again.
Conan sighs turned to gasps, and he began to move his hips against Craig's face. The more he thrust, the harder Craig would suck, and they soon fell into an urgent rhythm. Conan threaded his fingers in the back of Craig's hair, causing the Scot to look up at him, and he felt his cock throb at the sight of those blazing eyes meeting his own.
"Unnghh, Craig...I can't--I'm gonna--" Conan panted between words, struggling to stay sane as Craig held his hips steady and the familiar ball of fire began to form in the pit of his stomach.
One of Craig's hands crept around to Conan's ass again, tracing up and down the cleft of the firm, round cheeks. Craig circled around the puckered opening just briefly, then pushed in, breaching the tight ring of muscle.
"SHIT!" Conan cried out as Craig's finger moved within him, angling perfectly to brush against his prostate. A brilliant flash of white heat shot through him as his sweet spot was stimulated again and again, and he found he could no longer hold on.
With one final thrust, Conan's orgasm ripped through him, bursts of what felt like electric shocks darting from his hair follicles to toes as he called out Craig's name in a half-choked groan. Craig held the trembling man still, swallowing his release without hesitation, and continued to suck on his now-softening cock until it became too sensitive to handle.
Craig sat back against the headboard, fingers twined together above his head as he regarded Conan with a satisfied smirk. The redhead continued to breathe heavily, trying with all his might to come back down to Earth. The bulge in Craig's pants was enormous, and he craved his lover more than usual with the taste of him now fresh on his tongue.
Conan straddled one leg on either side of Craig's body, hands furiously tearing at the waistband of his trousers. Craig said nothing, lifting his hips momentarily so that Conan could slide his pants and underwear down and push them off. He sighed at the feel of the cool air on his overheated flesh, and brought a hand down to grasp his erection, the tip of which was already glossy with precum.
"Ohhh..." Craig groaned as he began to stroke himself slowly. He loved having Conan watch him as much as Conan loved to watch, and he sped up his ministrations as he remembered how amazing the other man had felt in the midst of his climax.
But Conan had other ideas, wanting desperately to return the favor. He gently pushed Craig's hand away, replacing it with his own. Craig moaned loudly, the warmth of the younger man's large hand heavenly on his cock. Conan continued with the pace Craig set, lowering himself onto his body as he did. Both men groaned as their heated torsos made contact, and Craig swore aloud at the feel of his cock in between them.
"Christ...do it just like that...fuck!" he hissed, his hands grasping Conan's back as their motions grew more frantic. A thin sheen of sweat had begun to form on Craig's chest as he thrust up into Conan's hand.
Knowing how much Craig enjoyed being in control during these moments, Conan swiftly reversed their positions, so that Craig was on top. He delighted in the change, grunting almost primitively as he ground into the body below him.
"Unnghh, so good...fucking love you, fucking love fucking you..." the words poured freely from Craig's mouth as Conan's jerking grew more furious.
Conan could tell Craig was getting close, the dirty talk and thrusting the telltale signs of his ascent to climax. He reached a hand around to Craig's back, digging his nails in deep and scratching down the pale skin.
"FUCK!!" Craig cried out, the pain soon melding into unbridled pleasure. "More...Jesus, keep going...make it hurt..." he groaned. Conan gladly obliged, lifting a hand and bringing it down to one of Craig's asscheeks in a ringing SMACK!, sending Craig hurtling forward as he groaned loudly.
"AGAIN!" he roared, thrusting so hard against Conan that they both knew there'd be bruises to contend with in the morning. Conan did as he was told, spanking Craig again and again until his ass and Conan's hair started to resemble each other. Conan held a hand over Craig's ass, loving the heat that radiated from the reddened flesh.
And now, for my last trick... Conan thought, moving the hand down to grasp Craig's balls, rolling and squeezing them between his fingers.
That proved to be the final push that sent Craig over the edge, and he bit down hard on Conan's shoulder as he came, muffling his howl of pleasure. His hips spasmed and twitched as his cum spurted out onto Conan's hand and stomach, and now it was Conan's turn to hold him steady, his hand nearly slipping off of Craig's glistening back.
Craig slowly lifted his head, trying not to chuckle at the teeth marks embedded in Conan's shoulder. His hair was wild and damp with sweat as he pulled back, heart beating rapidly and faster still as he looked down at his lover.
Without a word, Craig kissed Conan, trying to siphon the air from Conan's lungs into his own so that he could breathe again. He brought a hand to Conan's hair, caressing it gently. Neither man spoke, but continued to gaze at each other, basking in the love that filled each of them as they did.
Craig finally rolled off of Conan, who sighed almost exaggeratedly with relief. Craig turned to look at him.
"Oh, come on. I'm not that fat."
"No, you're not, but it's a little hard to breathe when you're practically dry humping me to China," Conan quipped.
Craig laughed loudly at this, sliding an arm around Conan's shoulder as he pulled him close to lie on his chest.
"So did you have a good night, then?" he asked.
"Eh, well, the blowjob could've been better," Conan deadpanned. The room fell into total silence for a moment, until both men finally broke up laughing.
The laughter began to die down as exhaustion set in, and Craig reached down for the rumpled blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it up and over them. He pressed a soft kiss to Conan's forehead, closing his eyes in his readiness to welcome sleep.
"Craig?" Conan's voice wafted up to his ears.
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
A smile crept across Craig's face there in the dark, the rapid heartbeat kicking up once more.
"Love you, too."