Mcfly Prompt!Challenge Fic
Title: I Want to Tear You Apart.
Part: 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: FletcherJones
Word Count: 2225
Genre: Angst, PWP.
A/N: Written for Prompt!Challenge at mcflyslash Prompt can be found here. This really was a challenge for me, as my comfortable genre is fluff/romance. It was terribly hard to write this fic, but I was glad of the challenge. Thanks to the mods for organising it, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
Danny Jones wasn’t fazed by much - fame had left him relatively unscathed. When complete strangers screamed out his name, proposing marriage and professing their desire to have his children, he merely smiled before muttering a humble “Cheers.” However, lately, he was discovering that even he had a weakness, one which was proving too close for comfort. He attempted not to stare as Tom bounced around their dressing room, exhilarated and still pulsing with the adrenaline of a good performance, but was finding it increasingly difficult.
“Christ Dan, I’m so wired. Let’s head out, Harry and Dougs’ll be up for it. Where are they anyway? Probably in the bog. Fuck, who cares, they’ll catch up.”
“Settle down mate,” Danny urged, “the city’ll still be there in five minutes.”
“I know, I know.” Tom agreed as he grabbed a bottle of water from the dressing table.
Danny watched as Tom quaffed down the water, drops escaping from his lips and mingling with the sweat still dripping from his forehead, before cascading in rivulets down his neck and onto his chest. Danny found his own mouth becoming quite dry, and motioned for Tom to pass the bottle to him when he was done, but at the same time he didn’t want this spectacle to end.
The sound of Dougie’s voice brought Danny back to reality as he entered the room singing some television jingle, while Harry followed close behind providing Dougie with backup vocals.
“So boys are we heading out?” Danny asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Yeah, we’ve been invited to be VIP guests at some club, I suppose we could make an appearance.” Harry stated before mock-punching Dougie who was still singing that annoying jingle.
“Excellent, I’m ready to dance.” Tom announced animatedly.
And so they did.
~
Somehow it ended up Tom and Danny in the middle of the floor. Harry and Dougie had fucked off somewhere and the various patrons of the night club seemed disinterested in the celebrities’ presence. Danny gyrated in the dim light, dancing to the loose tunes and tenacious beats which reverberated across the floor like fingers crawling across your skin. He looked over at Tom who was far more entranced than he was, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as he shook and shivered to the music. Danny found himself moving closer to the other boy, banishing the space between them, his hips thrusting loosely in his worn out black jeans. Tom barely noticed his approach, too lost in the music to care about the present. Danny felt a sudden urge to move inwards and press his lips against Tom’s, to bite the blonde’s tongue and move his hands along his soft, reddened cheeks.
Tom’s eyes flew open and Danny stepped back, disguising his rapid movement as a dance move before excusing himself and heading towards the bar.
What the hell was the matter with him...
~
Tom wandered through the house, trawling for some breakfast - he assumed the rest of the men were still asleep after last night. He moved lazily down the stairs when a sight caught his eye; a shock of skin. Danny’s door was ajar and his bed was positioned at perfect eyelevel, inside being a still hung-over Danny, quite possibly naked. Admittedly Tom could only see the top half, a pale white torso, a pair of rosebud nipples, an electric-wire collection of hair trailing down beneath the covers, but he could assume the rest.
They’d seen each other naked a heap of times; they were best friends and there wasn’t time to be shy when you had a thousand fans waiting for you on stage and you needed to change. However this was different to a flourishing rush of pants behind stage, this was 10am on a Sunday morning and sending desire prickling towards places he didn’t wish to fathom.
For the moment he chose to ignore the rush of blood to his groin, justifying it as the remnants of a horny dream, or something. Though, he couldn’t help but keep the mental image of Danny’s body in his mind as he wandered down the stairs in search of strawberry jam.
~
“I’m damaged”
“You’re not damaged. Well, I mean you are, but not ‘cause of this.”
“Doug, what the fuck is wrong with me. I mean, it’s Tom for chrissakes. Its a guy and its Tom!”
“Look mate, the heart, or in this case the cock, wants what it wants. No point in fighting it, just go with it.”
Despite his crude delivery, Dougie had a point. It was just so fucking scary. Danny had never felt like this before, even with girls. He could feel Tom burrowing his way into his thoughts, into his dreams, even into his bones - if stuff like that were even possible. Danny sighed into his hands, knowing that the bassist was right and that he needed to confront this thing head on.
“Dougie...I’m sorry to dump this crap on top of the whole other load of crap that’s already been dumped but...mate, I’m really frightened. It’s like my insides are in a vice grip and I don’t know what to do.”
“You could always try telling him.” Dougie offered, his arms gripping a pillow as he lay upon Danny’s bed. “I mean, its Tom - washes everything ten times, loves Disney films, knows all the words to ‘I will survive’ - Fletcher. There is a slight possibility he might like to take it up the arse."Danny snorted.
“Yeah, so what do I do, hey? Just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey Tom, how’re things? Yeah, by the way I have this rather humungous crush on you and not only that but I’ve recently been fantasising about fucking you passionately?’”
“Uhm...hey.”
Both boys turned instantly to stare at Tom standing in the doorway, his face a mixture of confusion and awkwardness. They’d left the door open; they’d left the fucking door open. Panic rose within Danny like a surge of lightning, his chest becoming tight and his mind pounding with fear. Before he even knew what he was doing, he ran into the bedroom’s en-suite bathroom and began to vomit uncontrollably, his body reacting harshly to his current mental state.
Outside the door, as he began to recover, Danny heard Dougie mutter, “Must have been some bad pizza or something.”
~
Danny had been avoiding Tom since his interrupted chat with Dougie earlier in the day. It was evening now, and the house was quiet. He’d been lying in his room with his guitar, strumming away some chords but not committing them to any formal melody. A knock resounded on the door, awakening Danny from his revelry.
He paused a moment before he uttered, “Come in.”
Tom appeared in the doorway, his face heavy with thought. “Hey”, he attempted.
“Hey.”
There was a pause where neither boy said anything, each avoiding the other’s glance.
“Tom, ‘bout earlier ya know I was just taking the piss with Dougie. Just bein’ a wanker, yeah?”
“Oh...really?”
“Yeah, course, I mean -”
“Because I was hoping you weren’t. Kidding.”, Tom interjected.
“Oh?” Because that’s all Danny could say, his eyebrows raised and his lips opened wide in a wide ‘o’ shape.
“Yeah.”
Once again silence consumed the two boys, their eyes shifting from object to object in Danny’s bedroom, as if seeking answers in the bric-a-brac and precious memento littered around the room.
Danny got up from the bed and moved towards Tom, his eyes still avoiding the blonde’s at all costs.
“So...what now?” He asked.
“I don’t know”, Tom answered honestly.
There was another pause, however this time Danny moved his hand towards Tom’s, grazing the callused flesh. He rested it there, his grip gently tightening as he finally looked into the boy’s deep brown eyes. Then, without words, he moved his lips towards Tom’s, his eyes never leaving the other boy’s, their stare coercing the two further and further together. Then, the inevitable occurred; contact. Warmth spread right through Danny’s body, beginning from his mouth and radiating towards his chest and eventually sending pleasurable sensations right to the souls of his feet. And then, the most amazing thing happened: Tom kissed back.
This was wrong, even with permission it still felt like a violation of code...of morals. Yet still, Tom was kissing him, lips slick and warm, peppermint breath wafting up Danny’s nostrils. He could taste Tom...Tom. This wasn’t right, this was...wrong. Yet it was Danny’s hand that pulled on the back of Tom’s neck, deepening the kisses which Tom administered with such an eager grace; Danny’s hand which moved down Tom’s spine, tracing the vertebrae one by one before cupping the blonde’s left buttock, kneading it fervently. It was Danny’s hand which moved under Tom’s shirt and pinched the boy’s nipple, causing him to gasp in pleasure right into Danny’s mouth.
Fuck, the moment had lost all reason, quickly dissipating into gestures ruled by frustration and lust, both men wrestling the other for dominance as they stood in the middle of the bedroom and felt the head radiating from one another’s bodies. Danny broke the kiss, his lips decorated in patterns left by Tom’s teeth.
“Tom...mate, I...”
“Danny, fucking Christ, just do it. Would I be...would we be if I didn’t want...” the last word which leaked from Tom’s lips was so arousing Danny was surprised he didn’t come right then and there, the blonde simply whimpered, staring straight into his eyes “...Danny”
Danny immediately pulled off the other boy’s shirt, discarding it upon the bedroom floor, before allowing his own shirt to join it. He traced his fingers down Tom’s torso, pressure increasing and decreasing spasmodically, a fingernail occasionally tracing across a nipple or marking the outline of the star tattoo emblazoned upon the blonde’s chest. Their lips met again, Tom whimpering into Danny’s mouth while the brunette felt his jeans tightening around his crotch, all the while his hands still roamed Tom’s body; searching, exploring, lusting.
“Danny...please...” Tom begged, his hands reaching for Danny’s, attempting to direct their ministrations. Danny, however, simply placed the blonde’s own hands forcefully back at his sides and stated, “No. We do this my way.” Tom breath hitched in his throat before he nodded as Danny half-led half-pushed him towards the bed, the blonde falling onto his back upon the mattress.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you look?” Danny queried the blonde as he fiddled with Tom’s belt buckle, his fingers pulling down the metallic zipper, grazing over the pronounced lump in the boy’s jeans. “When you’re on stage, and you’re screaming, and all I can think about is getting close to you...”, he guided Tom’s jeans to the floor, “...touching you....”, his fingers delicately teased across the fabric of the boy’s boxers, “...licking you.” He reiterated his final point by tracing his tongue sensually down the length of Tom’s body, ending just above the waistband of the boy’s boxers. Tom moaned loudly, feigned guises of control discarded as he allowed Danny to lead him into the unknown.
“Tom...I’m not gonna’ lie to you,” the brunette began as he abandoned his own jeans onto the crowded bedroom floor, “I’ve fantasised about you a lot recently. ’Bout snogging you...’bout running mah’ fingers over your skin...’bout fucking you.” Upon the last word Danny released Tom’s cock from the confines of his boxers, throwing them across the room with his own as his fingers began to firmly yet teasingly grasp the boy’s hardness. Danny put his other hand onto his own cock, and began massaging the two members to the same rhythm. “Fuck, Tom...” Danny’s breath was becoming laboured while the sound of skin slapping on skin and tiny moans filled the room like a perverted orchestra, “...I wanna fucking tear you apart”
The following moments blended into a haze; hot breath, red skin, lube and condoms retrieved from the bedside drawer; tight, painful, pleasurable, grunts and saliva, sweat and ceiling fan blades overlooking the scene like voyeurs. They weren’t making love - not this time, this time they were fucking, rough as nails and not half as gentle, because they both needed it to be that way. Their hands interlocked as they mutually felt the end approach, white liquid expelling from their bodies amidst contorted faces and incoherent moans.
They lay next to each other amidst the sweat drenched bed sheets, the moment’s anarchy still present in the atmosphere of the cluttered bedroom. It was then that Tom shuffled out of bed and began to haphazardly search for his clothes, dressing himself methodically. Danny watched as Tom straightened his hair with the palms of his hands, his attempts at taming the mess mostly unsuccessful. Then, Tom glanced towards Danny, nodded and moved out of the bedroom. Danny stared at the doorframe and wondered, ‘Is that it?’, his insecurities questioning if he was just a shag, an experiment. Perhaps it has just been a one time thing, a moment to be had and swept under the rug like it was nothing. ‘But it didn’t feel like nothing’, he lamented to himself as he searched the floor for his own clothes. Just as he was about to resign himself to the worst possible outcome and head down to the pub to drown his sorrow, Tom appeared in the doorway once more.
“So, uhm, Dinner? Tomorrow night, just you and me?” The blonde asked sheepishly.
“Uhm, yeah.” Danny replied, relief flooding across his face. “Sounds good.”
~
Comments are love. <3
Part: 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: FletcherJones
Word Count: 2225
Genre: Angst, PWP.
A/N: Written for Prompt!Challenge at mcflyslash Prompt can be found here. This really was a challenge for me, as my comfortable genre is fluff/romance. It was terribly hard to write this fic, but I was glad of the challenge. Thanks to the mods for organising it, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
Danny Jones wasn’t fazed by much - fame had left him relatively unscathed. When complete strangers screamed out his name, proposing marriage and professing their desire to have his children, he merely smiled before muttering a humble “Cheers.” However, lately, he was discovering that even he had a weakness, one which was proving too close for comfort. He attempted not to stare as Tom bounced around their dressing room, exhilarated and still pulsing with the adrenaline of a good performance, but was finding it increasingly difficult.
“Christ Dan, I’m so wired. Let’s head out, Harry and Dougs’ll be up for it. Where are they anyway? Probably in the bog. Fuck, who cares, they’ll catch up.”
“Settle down mate,” Danny urged, “the city’ll still be there in five minutes.”
“I know, I know.” Tom agreed as he grabbed a bottle of water from the dressing table.
Danny watched as Tom quaffed down the water, drops escaping from his lips and mingling with the sweat still dripping from his forehead, before cascading in rivulets down his neck and onto his chest. Danny found his own mouth becoming quite dry, and motioned for Tom to pass the bottle to him when he was done, but at the same time he didn’t want this spectacle to end.
The sound of Dougie’s voice brought Danny back to reality as he entered the room singing some television jingle, while Harry followed close behind providing Dougie with backup vocals.
“So boys are we heading out?” Danny asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Yeah, we’ve been invited to be VIP guests at some club, I suppose we could make an appearance.” Harry stated before mock-punching Dougie who was still singing that annoying jingle.
“Excellent, I’m ready to dance.” Tom announced animatedly.
And so they did.
~
Somehow it ended up Tom and Danny in the middle of the floor. Harry and Dougie had fucked off somewhere and the various patrons of the night club seemed disinterested in the celebrities’ presence. Danny gyrated in the dim light, dancing to the loose tunes and tenacious beats which reverberated across the floor like fingers crawling across your skin. He looked over at Tom who was far more entranced than he was, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as he shook and shivered to the music. Danny found himself moving closer to the other boy, banishing the space between them, his hips thrusting loosely in his worn out black jeans. Tom barely noticed his approach, too lost in the music to care about the present. Danny felt a sudden urge to move inwards and press his lips against Tom’s, to bite the blonde’s tongue and move his hands along his soft, reddened cheeks.
Tom’s eyes flew open and Danny stepped back, disguising his rapid movement as a dance move before excusing himself and heading towards the bar.
What the hell was the matter with him...
~
Tom wandered through the house, trawling for some breakfast - he assumed the rest of the men were still asleep after last night. He moved lazily down the stairs when a sight caught his eye; a shock of skin. Danny’s door was ajar and his bed was positioned at perfect eyelevel, inside being a still hung-over Danny, quite possibly naked. Admittedly Tom could only see the top half, a pale white torso, a pair of rosebud nipples, an electric-wire collection of hair trailing down beneath the covers, but he could assume the rest.
They’d seen each other naked a heap of times; they were best friends and there wasn’t time to be shy when you had a thousand fans waiting for you on stage and you needed to change. However this was different to a flourishing rush of pants behind stage, this was 10am on a Sunday morning and sending desire prickling towards places he didn’t wish to fathom.
For the moment he chose to ignore the rush of blood to his groin, justifying it as the remnants of a horny dream, or something. Though, he couldn’t help but keep the mental image of Danny’s body in his mind as he wandered down the stairs in search of strawberry jam.
~
“I’m damaged”
“You’re not damaged. Well, I mean you are, but not ‘cause of this.”
“Doug, what the fuck is wrong with me. I mean, it’s Tom for chrissakes. Its a guy and its Tom!”
“Look mate, the heart, or in this case the cock, wants what it wants. No point in fighting it, just go with it.”
Despite his crude delivery, Dougie had a point. It was just so fucking scary. Danny had never felt like this before, even with girls. He could feel Tom burrowing his way into his thoughts, into his dreams, even into his bones - if stuff like that were even possible. Danny sighed into his hands, knowing that the bassist was right and that he needed to confront this thing head on.
“Dougie...I’m sorry to dump this crap on top of the whole other load of crap that’s already been dumped but...mate, I’m really frightened. It’s like my insides are in a vice grip and I don’t know what to do.”
“You could always try telling him.” Dougie offered, his arms gripping a pillow as he lay upon Danny’s bed. “I mean, its Tom - washes everything ten times, loves Disney films, knows all the words to ‘I will survive’ - Fletcher. There is a slight possibility he might like to take it up the arse."Danny snorted.
“Yeah, so what do I do, hey? Just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey Tom, how’re things? Yeah, by the way I have this rather humungous crush on you and not only that but I’ve recently been fantasising about fucking you passionately?’”
“Uhm...hey.”
Both boys turned instantly to stare at Tom standing in the doorway, his face a mixture of confusion and awkwardness. They’d left the door open; they’d left the fucking door open. Panic rose within Danny like a surge of lightning, his chest becoming tight and his mind pounding with fear. Before he even knew what he was doing, he ran into the bedroom’s en-suite bathroom and began to vomit uncontrollably, his body reacting harshly to his current mental state.
Outside the door, as he began to recover, Danny heard Dougie mutter, “Must have been some bad pizza or something.”
~
Danny had been avoiding Tom since his interrupted chat with Dougie earlier in the day. It was evening now, and the house was quiet. He’d been lying in his room with his guitar, strumming away some chords but not committing them to any formal melody. A knock resounded on the door, awakening Danny from his revelry.
He paused a moment before he uttered, “Come in.”
Tom appeared in the doorway, his face heavy with thought. “Hey”, he attempted.
“Hey.”
There was a pause where neither boy said anything, each avoiding the other’s glance.
“Tom, ‘bout earlier ya know I was just taking the piss with Dougie. Just bein’ a wanker, yeah?”
“Oh...really?”
“Yeah, course, I mean -”
“Because I was hoping you weren’t. Kidding.”, Tom interjected.
“Oh?” Because that’s all Danny could say, his eyebrows raised and his lips opened wide in a wide ‘o’ shape.
“Yeah.”
Once again silence consumed the two boys, their eyes shifting from object to object in Danny’s bedroom, as if seeking answers in the bric-a-brac and precious memento littered around the room.
Danny got up from the bed and moved towards Tom, his eyes still avoiding the blonde’s at all costs.
“So...what now?” He asked.
“I don’t know”, Tom answered honestly.
There was another pause, however this time Danny moved his hand towards Tom’s, grazing the callused flesh. He rested it there, his grip gently tightening as he finally looked into the boy’s deep brown eyes. Then, without words, he moved his lips towards Tom’s, his eyes never leaving the other boy’s, their stare coercing the two further and further together. Then, the inevitable occurred; contact. Warmth spread right through Danny’s body, beginning from his mouth and radiating towards his chest and eventually sending pleasurable sensations right to the souls of his feet. And then, the most amazing thing happened: Tom kissed back.
This was wrong, even with permission it still felt like a violation of code...of morals. Yet still, Tom was kissing him, lips slick and warm, peppermint breath wafting up Danny’s nostrils. He could taste Tom...Tom. This wasn’t right, this was...wrong. Yet it was Danny’s hand that pulled on the back of Tom’s neck, deepening the kisses which Tom administered with such an eager grace; Danny’s hand which moved down Tom’s spine, tracing the vertebrae one by one before cupping the blonde’s left buttock, kneading it fervently. It was Danny’s hand which moved under Tom’s shirt and pinched the boy’s nipple, causing him to gasp in pleasure right into Danny’s mouth.
Fuck, the moment had lost all reason, quickly dissipating into gestures ruled by frustration and lust, both men wrestling the other for dominance as they stood in the middle of the bedroom and felt the head radiating from one another’s bodies. Danny broke the kiss, his lips decorated in patterns left by Tom’s teeth.
“Tom...mate, I...”
“Danny, fucking Christ, just do it. Would I be...would we be if I didn’t want...” the last word which leaked from Tom’s lips was so arousing Danny was surprised he didn’t come right then and there, the blonde simply whimpered, staring straight into his eyes “...Danny”
Danny immediately pulled off the other boy’s shirt, discarding it upon the bedroom floor, before allowing his own shirt to join it. He traced his fingers down Tom’s torso, pressure increasing and decreasing spasmodically, a fingernail occasionally tracing across a nipple or marking the outline of the star tattoo emblazoned upon the blonde’s chest. Their lips met again, Tom whimpering into Danny’s mouth while the brunette felt his jeans tightening around his crotch, all the while his hands still roamed Tom’s body; searching, exploring, lusting.
“Danny...please...” Tom begged, his hands reaching for Danny’s, attempting to direct their ministrations. Danny, however, simply placed the blonde’s own hands forcefully back at his sides and stated, “No. We do this my way.” Tom breath hitched in his throat before he nodded as Danny half-led half-pushed him towards the bed, the blonde falling onto his back upon the mattress.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you look?” Danny queried the blonde as he fiddled with Tom’s belt buckle, his fingers pulling down the metallic zipper, grazing over the pronounced lump in the boy’s jeans. “When you’re on stage, and you’re screaming, and all I can think about is getting close to you...”, he guided Tom’s jeans to the floor, “...touching you....”, his fingers delicately teased across the fabric of the boy’s boxers, “...licking you.” He reiterated his final point by tracing his tongue sensually down the length of Tom’s body, ending just above the waistband of the boy’s boxers. Tom moaned loudly, feigned guises of control discarded as he allowed Danny to lead him into the unknown.
“Tom...I’m not gonna’ lie to you,” the brunette began as he abandoned his own jeans onto the crowded bedroom floor, “I’ve fantasised about you a lot recently. ’Bout snogging you...’bout running mah’ fingers over your skin...’bout fucking you.” Upon the last word Danny released Tom’s cock from the confines of his boxers, throwing them across the room with his own as his fingers began to firmly yet teasingly grasp the boy’s hardness. Danny put his other hand onto his own cock, and began massaging the two members to the same rhythm. “Fuck, Tom...” Danny’s breath was becoming laboured while the sound of skin slapping on skin and tiny moans filled the room like a perverted orchestra, “...I wanna fucking tear you apart”
The following moments blended into a haze; hot breath, red skin, lube and condoms retrieved from the bedside drawer; tight, painful, pleasurable, grunts and saliva, sweat and ceiling fan blades overlooking the scene like voyeurs. They weren’t making love - not this time, this time they were fucking, rough as nails and not half as gentle, because they both needed it to be that way. Their hands interlocked as they mutually felt the end approach, white liquid expelling from their bodies amidst contorted faces and incoherent moans.
They lay next to each other amidst the sweat drenched bed sheets, the moment’s anarchy still present in the atmosphere of the cluttered bedroom. It was then that Tom shuffled out of bed and began to haphazardly search for his clothes, dressing himself methodically. Danny watched as Tom straightened his hair with the palms of his hands, his attempts at taming the mess mostly unsuccessful. Then, Tom glanced towards Danny, nodded and moved out of the bedroom. Danny stared at the doorframe and wondered, ‘Is that it?’, his insecurities questioning if he was just a shag, an experiment. Perhaps it has just been a one time thing, a moment to be had and swept under the rug like it was nothing. ‘But it didn’t feel like nothing’, he lamented to himself as he searched the floor for his own clothes. Just as he was about to resign himself to the worst possible outcome and head down to the pub to drown his sorrow, Tom appeared in the doorway once more.
“So, uhm, Dinner? Tomorrow night, just you and me?” The blonde asked sheepishly.
“Uhm, yeah.” Danny replied, relief flooding across his face. “Sounds good.”
~
Comments are love. <3