Fic and Art: Love Game (Lorne/Parrish) nc-17 - art is SFW
title: Love Game
author: Neevebrody
pairing: Lorne/Parrish
rating: NC-17
words: ~2,000
notes: Total AU and PWP based on artwork for clwilson2006, who, a few weeks ago, mused about Lorne in tennis whites. Not betaed and my Porne is a bit rusty, so please forgive gaffs and sentence fragments, no matter how artfully used. ;) With regard to the art, absolutely no copyright infringement intended and any resemblance to persons known or unknown is strictly coincidental.
summary: "Clichés have universal appeal," Parrish said. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes and lips, making Evan's stomach twist into knots. "That's the great thing about them, no need for time-consuming explanation."
Love Game
Evan grabbed a sparkling water from the tub of rapidly-melting ice. Oh, he was in so much trouble. He checked his watch: at least another hour to go if Paco's sessions ran true to form. He wouldn't complain, though, Paco was good enough to keep him in mind for modeling jobs, and it was an extra paycheck, but another hour with that tall, sexy blond with the freckles across his nose and disarming grey eyes... He twisted the cap off his water and downed half of it. The sun and the hot lights had him sweating through the trendy designer duds to be featured in various print ads coinciding with the start of the lawn tennis season. It could be a big break for him… if modeling was his passion, which it wasn't, but it sure was a great way to meet hot guys.
The photographer's assistant stopped by the table for a drink and some small talk. Evan knew her, but they weren't really on a first name basis. "Actually, I think I'm headed for trouble," he said in response to her obligatory 'how are you?' He nodded his head back in the direction where the other models were getting ready for the next series of shots. One of them stood out from the rest - the one currently playing a leading role in Evan's fantasy of peeling those tight white shorts from that hot ass.
"Yeah," she said, checking her clipboard then looking straight at Evan. "I've noticed."
It was no secret that Evan Lorne had something of a reputation for becoming involved with guys on a shoot. In fact, some of the stories were legendary; he smiled at that thought. "The tall one, Parrish," he said, turning around to look again. One of the make-up girls was touching up the shine on Parrish's forehead and another assistant was hauling out even more clothes, but Evan felt those eyes trained in his direction, zeroing right in on him.
Evan dropped his gaze and shifted from one foot to the other in a casual attempt to appear as if he hadn't been staring. "You ever work with him before?"
The girl smiled. "He's very professional, and very discreet." Then she glanced past him. "But if the way he's been watching you is any indication…"
She didn't finish her statement. Evan just winked and drained his bottle.
The rest of the shoot had been grueling, running past their time as he'd expected, even with shortened breaks. Afterward, Evan headed to the clubhouse, chugging the nearly tepid water someone shoved at him before clearing away. No one had bothered to refill the ice, but still his throat was parched and it was wet, which was all he needed it to be.
The clothes he'd worn for the last set were certainly ruined, having bled some of his life essence into every thread. He was hot and tired and to top it all off, Parrish had basically ignored him during the last shots. It had been just the two of them and standing so close had made it nearly impossible to concentrate on having a jolly old time on the court dressed in pique polo, cashmere sweater and full wool coat. He could smell Parrish's cologne, a gift to all the guys from the designer, but on Parrish, and mixed with his own earthy scent, it set something off in Evan's brain, forcing him to think of Wisconsin winters at his grandpa's when all he wanted to do was strip Parrish naked and lick him all over.
So, he'd been his usual charming self with lidded, furtive looks and veiled innuendo, but Parrish had remained aloof. And now all Evan wanted was a cool shower, his own comfortable jeans and tee shirt, and to go someplace for a beer or five.
A red-faced gentleman in a deep navy jacket showed him to a private locker room, which was one perk Evan didn't mind. He took the last showerhead in the beautifully-tiled, open shower. On the scale of a Grecian bathhouse, the modern fixtures gleamed golden and beneath the main showerhead were a series of other outlets where the water spritzed every inch of his body. The shower felt good and, for a moment, he stood still and let his body temperature drop slowly, enjoying the tingle of the water spray on his dick.
His eyes closed, he could hear the commotion of the other guys in the room as they quickly showered off and dressed, but he was content to linger and think of Parrish - those long legs, a little on the skinny side but well-shaped, the angular shoulders and arms that appeared to be nothing but lean muscle. He'd watched Parrish strip off one of his shirts before that last set and his back seemed the same, slight, but firm, though he'd love to find that out for himself.
Evan could imagine stretching out over that flat plane of skin, using the shoulders as an anchor while he pushed inside Parrish's sweet ass. Something grazed his foot, dive-bombing his little daydream. He opened his eyes to find a very naked Parrish at the next showerhead over, fought mightily to keep his gaze up, but lost. Yep, big trouble.
The light danced in the water planning off Parrish's sun-warmed skin forming miniature rainbows in the spray. Parrish was grinning - a grin that clutched at Evan's balls and made his cock twitch, though Parrish probably hadn't seen since he hadn't taken his eyes from Evan's. When Evan finally glanced down, a bar of glycerin soap hugged his instep - gold, like everything else in the bath. He found he was in unfamiliar territory as he cut his eyes back to Parrish; he wasn't usually at a loss for words. The grin, the look in Parrish's eyes… was it a dare? An invitation? A plea? And all he could think of to say was…
"Funny, I pegged you for more than clichés… more like dirty limericks or really bad puns."
"Clichés have universal appeal," Parrish said. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes and lips, making Evan's stomach twist into knots. "That's the great thing about them, no need for time-consuming explanation."
Evan swallowed hard and stepped to the side out of the direct path of the shower. Nope, no explanations needed here. He bent down and retrieved the soap, rubbing up a good lather as he looked back at Parrish. He had his hand extended and Evan complied, making sure to trail his fingers along the side of Parrish's palm as he left the soap there.
"David," Parrish said in response, lathering up before guiding the golden bar over his pecs. The light dusting of hair Evan had noticed earlier was darkened by the water, arrowing toward his navel and beyond. It was sexy as hell and gave Parrish a more virile quality that his clothes concealed.
"Evan," he replied, watching Parrish slide the soap over his taut, flat stomach. Without another thought, Evan put his hands on his own body, rubbing the fragrant lather over his chest and around his nipples, making them even harder. He suspected they were the only ones in the locker room, but he really didn't care as Parrish finally set the soap in a niche on the wall and worked the froth around his jutting cock.
Evan watched, imagining it was him stroking and twisting the long, thick shaft, making it bob up and down in a way that had Evan's balls tingling. He moved his hands lower.
"That's right," David said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "Touch yourself."
With his heart hammering, Evan slid his palm down over his fully-hard cock and shivered when Parrish began to stroke himself with an undeniable rhythm.
It wasn't Evan's usual first time; he wanted to touch Parrish, but somehow it was so much sexier this way… hot as hell, and he wasn't about to rock this boat.
David licked his lips and ordered Evan to, "turn around."
He did, leaning against the tiled wall between the two showerheads. Running a hand down one fleshy cheek, he looked back over his shoulder at Parrish, expecting him to move closer but he didn't - just stood in the same spot, his eyes on Evan's bum.
So Evan decided to play it up, show a few more cards, because it had been a damn long time since he wanted someone as bad as he wanted Parrish. His hands still slick with soap, Evan massaged his ass, lifting, squeezing, pushing his dick down so it could be seen between his spread legs, and every move brought more harsh breath and slippery skin-to-skin noises from Parrish.
Evan spread his cheeks apart and flicked a finger over his hole, then circled it, watching the reaction on Parrish's face and the way his toes curled on the tile floor.
"God, yes…" Parrish choked out, sounding as if were trying to catch his breath. "Tease me… just like that."
The tile was cool against his skin; it served to ground him because his head was spinning, every nerve in his body standing on end. Evan was so turned on he didn't give much thought for what to do next.
Arching his back forced his ass out a little further, opening him up a little wider, and while holding himself open with one hand, he used the other to run a finger up and down in the crack. He eased the tip of his middle finger just inside; it made his dick twitch and sent a throbbing current through him that beat hard in the space between his ears.
A gruff urgency weighted Parrish's voice now as he barked, "Do it, Evan."
Craning his neck, he pressed his finger all the way in, moaning as he watched Parrish jack himself faster, his dick swollen, the head darkened with need. Jesus, how incredibly, fucking hot.
Evan finger fucked himself, then pulled out to circle around his puckered skin once again. Keeping his eyes on Parrish's cock, Evan went back in with two fingers, bucking his hips and groaning with Parrish as Parrish's strokes shortened and he threw his hips forward, come spurting in pulses like the spasms wracking his body, his eyes still on Evan.
Turning around, Evan braced against the tile for support and began to jack off, working his cock hard and fast until Parrish told him to stop.
"Hell no." He gusted out the words with effort. "Not unless you get over here and touch me."
Evan barely had time to finish his sentence before David was there, bending down to lick across his collarbone and suck on a patch of skin below his ear. Hands slick with soap and come wrapped around Evan's dick, tugging gently at first as Parrish's lips grazed Evan's jaw, and then more urgent as Evan felt teeth working his earlobe.
"Jesus…" Evan hissed, closing his eyes and giving in to the full body shudder.
Parrish dropped to his knees and swirled his hot tongue around Evan's cockhead, flicking it over the little twist of nerves. He jacked Evan at the same time, teasing out his building orgasm.
By the time his balls let go, Evan was poised on tiptoes, every muscle taut as if he were readying for a high dive. His hands scrabbled at the wall, hips thrust forward as he entered the free-fall, cock shooting into Parrish's hand and onto Parrish's chest, where some of the drops clung and matted the fine hairs. The force of it bent him forward in a blaze of white and, "Oh fuck… fuck… fuck…"
When he could breathe again, he found Parrish still there, helping to hold him up, their bodies pebbled with the spray of the water that had finally run cool. But Parrish's mouth was warm and soft as he kissed Evan, full lips pulling at him, offering him succor. Evan reached for the strength in those shoulders and kissed him back, drinking him in just as he had the water before, as if this man was sustenance, something Evan needed to stay alive.
Parrish broke the kiss, a little breathless, hips nudging Evan ever so slightly, a shy grin blossoming. "David," he said, widening that grin to a warm, open smile.
The both laughed. "Evan," he said again, trying his best to keep it light.
"My apartment's not far from here," David said. "I understand you're interested in art… I've got an espresso machine and a nice collection of Japanese prints you might find intriguing."
Evan quirked an eyebrow - this was even better than dropping the soap. "You're inviting me to come up and see your etchings?"
Sweeping a dripping shock of hair from Evan's forehead, David said, "I could make us something to eat… I'm always ravenous after a good shoot."
Evan snorted at that, thinking ahead to the lively conversations the two of them could have, like verbal foreplay.
"Say yes," David whispered, leaning in closer. He kissed Evan again, a quick kiss brimming with promise.
Evan took a deep breath, inhaling the flowery musk of soap and sex, committing it to memory along with the taste of David's lips, and blew it out in the crook of David's neck. "Yes."
author: Neevebrody
pairing: Lorne/Parrish
rating: NC-17
words: ~2,000
notes: Total AU and PWP based on artwork for clwilson2006, who, a few weeks ago, mused about Lorne in tennis whites. Not betaed and my Porne is a bit rusty, so please forgive gaffs and sentence fragments, no matter how artfully used. ;) With regard to the art, absolutely no copyright infringement intended and any resemblance to persons known or unknown is strictly coincidental.
summary: "Clichés have universal appeal," Parrish said. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes and lips, making Evan's stomach twist into knots. "That's the great thing about them, no need for time-consuming explanation."
Love Game
Evan grabbed a sparkling water from the tub of rapidly-melting ice. Oh, he was in so much trouble. He checked his watch: at least another hour to go if Paco's sessions ran true to form. He wouldn't complain, though, Paco was good enough to keep him in mind for modeling jobs, and it was an extra paycheck, but another hour with that tall, sexy blond with the freckles across his nose and disarming grey eyes... He twisted the cap off his water and downed half of it. The sun and the hot lights had him sweating through the trendy designer duds to be featured in various print ads coinciding with the start of the lawn tennis season. It could be a big break for him… if modeling was his passion, which it wasn't, but it sure was a great way to meet hot guys.
The photographer's assistant stopped by the table for a drink and some small talk. Evan knew her, but they weren't really on a first name basis. "Actually, I think I'm headed for trouble," he said in response to her obligatory 'how are you?' He nodded his head back in the direction where the other models were getting ready for the next series of shots. One of them stood out from the rest - the one currently playing a leading role in Evan's fantasy of peeling those tight white shorts from that hot ass.
"Yeah," she said, checking her clipboard then looking straight at Evan. "I've noticed."
It was no secret that Evan Lorne had something of a reputation for becoming involved with guys on a shoot. In fact, some of the stories were legendary; he smiled at that thought. "The tall one, Parrish," he said, turning around to look again. One of the make-up girls was touching up the shine on Parrish's forehead and another assistant was hauling out even more clothes, but Evan felt those eyes trained in his direction, zeroing right in on him.
Evan dropped his gaze and shifted from one foot to the other in a casual attempt to appear as if he hadn't been staring. "You ever work with him before?"
The girl smiled. "He's very professional, and very discreet." Then she glanced past him. "But if the way he's been watching you is any indication…"
She didn't finish her statement. Evan just winked and drained his bottle.
The rest of the shoot had been grueling, running past their time as he'd expected, even with shortened breaks. Afterward, Evan headed to the clubhouse, chugging the nearly tepid water someone shoved at him before clearing away. No one had bothered to refill the ice, but still his throat was parched and it was wet, which was all he needed it to be.
The clothes he'd worn for the last set were certainly ruined, having bled some of his life essence into every thread. He was hot and tired and to top it all off, Parrish had basically ignored him during the last shots. It had been just the two of them and standing so close had made it nearly impossible to concentrate on having a jolly old time on the court dressed in pique polo, cashmere sweater and full wool coat. He could smell Parrish's cologne, a gift to all the guys from the designer, but on Parrish, and mixed with his own earthy scent, it set something off in Evan's brain, forcing him to think of Wisconsin winters at his grandpa's when all he wanted to do was strip Parrish naked and lick him all over.
So, he'd been his usual charming self with lidded, furtive looks and veiled innuendo, but Parrish had remained aloof. And now all Evan wanted was a cool shower, his own comfortable jeans and tee shirt, and to go someplace for a beer or five.
A red-faced gentleman in a deep navy jacket showed him to a private locker room, which was one perk Evan didn't mind. He took the last showerhead in the beautifully-tiled, open shower. On the scale of a Grecian bathhouse, the modern fixtures gleamed golden and beneath the main showerhead were a series of other outlets where the water spritzed every inch of his body. The shower felt good and, for a moment, he stood still and let his body temperature drop slowly, enjoying the tingle of the water spray on his dick.
His eyes closed, he could hear the commotion of the other guys in the room as they quickly showered off and dressed, but he was content to linger and think of Parrish - those long legs, a little on the skinny side but well-shaped, the angular shoulders and arms that appeared to be nothing but lean muscle. He'd watched Parrish strip off one of his shirts before that last set and his back seemed the same, slight, but firm, though he'd love to find that out for himself.
Evan could imagine stretching out over that flat plane of skin, using the shoulders as an anchor while he pushed inside Parrish's sweet ass. Something grazed his foot, dive-bombing his little daydream. He opened his eyes to find a very naked Parrish at the next showerhead over, fought mightily to keep his gaze up, but lost. Yep, big trouble.
The light danced in the water planning off Parrish's sun-warmed skin forming miniature rainbows in the spray. Parrish was grinning - a grin that clutched at Evan's balls and made his cock twitch, though Parrish probably hadn't seen since he hadn't taken his eyes from Evan's. When Evan finally glanced down, a bar of glycerin soap hugged his instep - gold, like everything else in the bath. He found he was in unfamiliar territory as he cut his eyes back to Parrish; he wasn't usually at a loss for words. The grin, the look in Parrish's eyes… was it a dare? An invitation? A plea? And all he could think of to say was…
"Funny, I pegged you for more than clichés… more like dirty limericks or really bad puns."
"Clichés have universal appeal," Parrish said. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes and lips, making Evan's stomach twist into knots. "That's the great thing about them, no need for time-consuming explanation."
Evan swallowed hard and stepped to the side out of the direct path of the shower. Nope, no explanations needed here. He bent down and retrieved the soap, rubbing up a good lather as he looked back at Parrish. He had his hand extended and Evan complied, making sure to trail his fingers along the side of Parrish's palm as he left the soap there.
"David," Parrish said in response, lathering up before guiding the golden bar over his pecs. The light dusting of hair Evan had noticed earlier was darkened by the water, arrowing toward his navel and beyond. It was sexy as hell and gave Parrish a more virile quality that his clothes concealed.
"Evan," he replied, watching Parrish slide the soap over his taut, flat stomach. Without another thought, Evan put his hands on his own body, rubbing the fragrant lather over his chest and around his nipples, making them even harder. He suspected they were the only ones in the locker room, but he really didn't care as Parrish finally set the soap in a niche on the wall and worked the froth around his jutting cock.
Evan watched, imagining it was him stroking and twisting the long, thick shaft, making it bob up and down in a way that had Evan's balls tingling. He moved his hands lower.
"That's right," David said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "Touch yourself."
With his heart hammering, Evan slid his palm down over his fully-hard cock and shivered when Parrish began to stroke himself with an undeniable rhythm.
It wasn't Evan's usual first time; he wanted to touch Parrish, but somehow it was so much sexier this way… hot as hell, and he wasn't about to rock this boat.
David licked his lips and ordered Evan to, "turn around."
He did, leaning against the tiled wall between the two showerheads. Running a hand down one fleshy cheek, he looked back over his shoulder at Parrish, expecting him to move closer but he didn't - just stood in the same spot, his eyes on Evan's bum.
So Evan decided to play it up, show a few more cards, because it had been a damn long time since he wanted someone as bad as he wanted Parrish. His hands still slick with soap, Evan massaged his ass, lifting, squeezing, pushing his dick down so it could be seen between his spread legs, and every move brought more harsh breath and slippery skin-to-skin noises from Parrish.
Evan spread his cheeks apart and flicked a finger over his hole, then circled it, watching the reaction on Parrish's face and the way his toes curled on the tile floor.
"God, yes…" Parrish choked out, sounding as if were trying to catch his breath. "Tease me… just like that."
The tile was cool against his skin; it served to ground him because his head was spinning, every nerve in his body standing on end. Evan was so turned on he didn't give much thought for what to do next.
Arching his back forced his ass out a little further, opening him up a little wider, and while holding himself open with one hand, he used the other to run a finger up and down in the crack. He eased the tip of his middle finger just inside; it made his dick twitch and sent a throbbing current through him that beat hard in the space between his ears.
A gruff urgency weighted Parrish's voice now as he barked, "Do it, Evan."
Craning his neck, he pressed his finger all the way in, moaning as he watched Parrish jack himself faster, his dick swollen, the head darkened with need. Jesus, how incredibly, fucking hot.
Evan finger fucked himself, then pulled out to circle around his puckered skin once again. Keeping his eyes on Parrish's cock, Evan went back in with two fingers, bucking his hips and groaning with Parrish as Parrish's strokes shortened and he threw his hips forward, come spurting in pulses like the spasms wracking his body, his eyes still on Evan.
Turning around, Evan braced against the tile for support and began to jack off, working his cock hard and fast until Parrish told him to stop.
"Hell no." He gusted out the words with effort. "Not unless you get over here and touch me."
Evan barely had time to finish his sentence before David was there, bending down to lick across his collarbone and suck on a patch of skin below his ear. Hands slick with soap and come wrapped around Evan's dick, tugging gently at first as Parrish's lips grazed Evan's jaw, and then more urgent as Evan felt teeth working his earlobe.
"Jesus…" Evan hissed, closing his eyes and giving in to the full body shudder.
Parrish dropped to his knees and swirled his hot tongue around Evan's cockhead, flicking it over the little twist of nerves. He jacked Evan at the same time, teasing out his building orgasm.
By the time his balls let go, Evan was poised on tiptoes, every muscle taut as if he were readying for a high dive. His hands scrabbled at the wall, hips thrust forward as he entered the free-fall, cock shooting into Parrish's hand and onto Parrish's chest, where some of the drops clung and matted the fine hairs. The force of it bent him forward in a blaze of white and, "Oh fuck… fuck… fuck…"
When he could breathe again, he found Parrish still there, helping to hold him up, their bodies pebbled with the spray of the water that had finally run cool. But Parrish's mouth was warm and soft as he kissed Evan, full lips pulling at him, offering him succor. Evan reached for the strength in those shoulders and kissed him back, drinking him in just as he had the water before, as if this man was sustenance, something Evan needed to stay alive.
Parrish broke the kiss, a little breathless, hips nudging Evan ever so slightly, a shy grin blossoming. "David," he said, widening that grin to a warm, open smile.
The both laughed. "Evan," he said again, trying his best to keep it light.
"My apartment's not far from here," David said. "I understand you're interested in art… I've got an espresso machine and a nice collection of Japanese prints you might find intriguing."
Evan quirked an eyebrow - this was even better than dropping the soap. "You're inviting me to come up and see your etchings?"
Sweeping a dripping shock of hair from Evan's forehead, David said, "I could make us something to eat… I'm always ravenous after a good shoot."
Evan snorted at that, thinking ahead to the lively conversations the two of them could have, like verbal foreplay.
"Say yes," David whispered, leaning in closer. He kissed Evan again, a quick kiss brimming with promise.
Evan took a deep breath, inhaling the flowery musk of soap and sex, committing it to memory along with the taste of David's lips, and blew it out in the crook of David's neck. "Yes."