Hot Coffee
It's been a while, but I filled a kink meme prompt and didn't have it turn into an epic!
For the prompt: Snob likes his sex like he likes his coffee: in the back of a Starbucks.
Rated M, NSFW
He stares down at the name scribbled across his cup with such disdain that Phelous almost thinks the barista has written something truly offensive with her Sharpie. When Phelous hunches down to take a closer look at his boyfriend’s cup and sees the neatly printed letters making up the name Cinema Slob, however, he almost snorts latte out of his nose.
Snob’s angry glare instantly shifts from the offending beverage container to Phelous. “Oh yeah, this is real fucking funny. I notice she didn’t mess up your name, which is truly hilarious since your name isn’t even a real fucking name. I fucking bet she wants to screw you in the backroom. I saw her giving you those bedroom eyes.” Snob’s fury, as well as his inability to separate the cordial smiles of a server from the lip-licking come-ons of a seductress, only make Phelous laugh louder, earning him a not at all painful jab in the ribs. “Fuck you. You know you’d get so fucking hard if you were put into a situation like that.”
Snob pauses after this proclamation, pondering it with surprising intensity, before he sets his untouched beverage down on an empty table.
“Meet me in the back in ten minutes,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
Ten minutes later, Phelous is the one bearing a look of displeasure as he finds himself jammed into a positively tiny janitor’s closet with Snob.
“Wow, dirty mop water. You sure know how to set the mood,” he snarks upon almost stepping into said container. He feels along the side of the wall for the light switch, but Snob quickly slaps his hand away.
“I’m not letting anyone find us until I’m done,” Snob murmurs, his voice low and hungry. “Now shut up and don’t make a sound, or I am going to pour hot coffee in your ass until steam shoots out your mouth.”
Snob grips Phelous’s arms, slamming him against the side of the closet, and Phelous is forced to bite down on his tongue so that he does not disobey Snob’s command immediately. A moan still manages to slip out after Snob tears off Phelous’s shirt and starts nipping at his neck and torso, attacking every bare inch of flesh with his teeth, covering his skin with angry red bites that sting if pressed upon, but Snob is too preoccupied to notice.
Phelous’s bare back scrapes against cool tile when Snob suddenly pushes him down to his knees. Phelous can see the bulge in Snob’s pants and he nuzzles it a moment. “Take me,” Snob commands, barely managing to restrain the lust in his voice. Phelous complies, freeing Snob’s cock from his boxers, before taking him into his mouth, deep into his throat.
“Fuck,” Snob groans softly, back arched, hands fisted in Phelous’s hair, tugging urgently. He watches Phelous’s head bob through squinted eyes, growing more aroused with each touch of his boyfriend’s tongue, and when Phelous scrapes his teeth against his shaft, he curses again, his body rocking in rhythm with Phelous’s mouth. He knocks a broom over in the process, but once again he’s too preoccupied to notice.
After a minute of warm, wet friction, Snob explodes, his hands quickly moving to grip Phelous’s shoulders to steady himself. “Oh… fuck…” Snob pants, his eyes glazed but his smile satisfied. Phelous pulls back, looking just as satisfied, and wipes his mouth. “Okay… okay… your turn.”
The sudden opening of the door to the supply closet squelches this plan, sadly, and the horrified screams of the barista would never be forgotten by either man. Phelous briefly considers dropping another ten bucks on the counter as he and Snob rush toward the front door, but he can only manage to fish from his jeans a quarter he’d found on the ground that morning, and decides that this will not be enough to compensate the poor woman.
Once they are a couple blocks away, and Snob bends over to cough, his lungs still unused to the strenuous activity fleeing a scene causes, Phelous finally manages to put his shirt back on.
“I guess that’s another place we’re banned from,” he says with the casual attitude of one who is banned from places on a regular basis.
Instead of his usual annoyance, Snob looks tremendously pleased. “That’ll teach her to… spell my name wrong.”
For the prompt: Snob likes his sex like he likes his coffee: in the back of a Starbucks.
Rated M, NSFW
He stares down at the name scribbled across his cup with such disdain that Phelous almost thinks the barista has written something truly offensive with her Sharpie. When Phelous hunches down to take a closer look at his boyfriend’s cup and sees the neatly printed letters making up the name Cinema Slob, however, he almost snorts latte out of his nose.
Snob’s angry glare instantly shifts from the offending beverage container to Phelous. “Oh yeah, this is real fucking funny. I notice she didn’t mess up your name, which is truly hilarious since your name isn’t even a real fucking name. I fucking bet she wants to screw you in the backroom. I saw her giving you those bedroom eyes.” Snob’s fury, as well as his inability to separate the cordial smiles of a server from the lip-licking come-ons of a seductress, only make Phelous laugh louder, earning him a not at all painful jab in the ribs. “Fuck you. You know you’d get so fucking hard if you were put into a situation like that.”
Snob pauses after this proclamation, pondering it with surprising intensity, before he sets his untouched beverage down on an empty table.
“Meet me in the back in ten minutes,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
Ten minutes later, Phelous is the one bearing a look of displeasure as he finds himself jammed into a positively tiny janitor’s closet with Snob.
“Wow, dirty mop water. You sure know how to set the mood,” he snarks upon almost stepping into said container. He feels along the side of the wall for the light switch, but Snob quickly slaps his hand away.
“I’m not letting anyone find us until I’m done,” Snob murmurs, his voice low and hungry. “Now shut up and don’t make a sound, or I am going to pour hot coffee in your ass until steam shoots out your mouth.”
Snob grips Phelous’s arms, slamming him against the side of the closet, and Phelous is forced to bite down on his tongue so that he does not disobey Snob’s command immediately. A moan still manages to slip out after Snob tears off Phelous’s shirt and starts nipping at his neck and torso, attacking every bare inch of flesh with his teeth, covering his skin with angry red bites that sting if pressed upon, but Snob is too preoccupied to notice.
Phelous’s bare back scrapes against cool tile when Snob suddenly pushes him down to his knees. Phelous can see the bulge in Snob’s pants and he nuzzles it a moment. “Take me,” Snob commands, barely managing to restrain the lust in his voice. Phelous complies, freeing Snob’s cock from his boxers, before taking him into his mouth, deep into his throat.
“Fuck,” Snob groans softly, back arched, hands fisted in Phelous’s hair, tugging urgently. He watches Phelous’s head bob through squinted eyes, growing more aroused with each touch of his boyfriend’s tongue, and when Phelous scrapes his teeth against his shaft, he curses again, his body rocking in rhythm with Phelous’s mouth. He knocks a broom over in the process, but once again he’s too preoccupied to notice.
After a minute of warm, wet friction, Snob explodes, his hands quickly moving to grip Phelous’s shoulders to steady himself. “Oh… fuck…” Snob pants, his eyes glazed but his smile satisfied. Phelous pulls back, looking just as satisfied, and wipes his mouth. “Okay… okay… your turn.”
The sudden opening of the door to the supply closet squelches this plan, sadly, and the horrified screams of the barista would never be forgotten by either man. Phelous briefly considers dropping another ten bucks on the counter as he and Snob rush toward the front door, but he can only manage to fish from his jeans a quarter he’d found on the ground that morning, and decides that this will not be enough to compensate the poor woman.
Once they are a couple blocks away, and Snob bends over to cough, his lungs still unused to the strenuous activity fleeing a scene causes, Phelous finally manages to put his shirt back on.
“I guess that’s another place we’re banned from,” he says with the casual attitude of one who is banned from places on a regular basis.
Instead of his usual annoyance, Snob looks tremendously pleased. “That’ll teach her to… spell my name wrong.”