Um, I think I just wrote you H50 NC-17 handjob fic. What?dodger_sisterJune 8 2011, 04:42:02 UTC
Oh. Sorry, that does not sound fun. But it is really nice of you to help your grandma.
Here, let me make it a little easier to deal with...
***
Steve was on his back under the car, even though it was really too hot for anything outside, let alone laying smack down on the radiating pavement of the garage floor. He could barely hear the sound of traffic over the roar of his radio, which may or may not have been belting some Styx.
This was probably how he didn't hear the man approaching, let alone notice him drop to his knees between Steve's splayed legs. Danny probably would kick his ass for being caught so unaware later.
Though sometimes Danny getting pissed could be fun too.
Steve jerked hard when the rough hands grabbed his ankles and yanked his legs father apart. He started to push off, fight back, when the hands began traveling up his legs, past his knees and holy shit, up under the cuffs of his shorts, but then instinct had him relaxing.
Because he knew those hands. Knew the way they touched him, feather-light and yet still completely sure of themselves.
"Christ, Danno," he breathed out and though the music was too loud to actually hear it, Steve felt the rumble of Danny's laugh ripple through him.
Sure fingers worked his belt buckle, undid the zip on his shorts and yanked them down.
Steve never wore underwear when it was this hot out.
Too hot actually, and Steve tried to slide out from under the car, but Danny held him still. Steve was already achingly hard and even with the sweat dripping off his face, he couldn't find the words to tell Danny to stop.
Certainly not when Danny wrapped those perfect fingers around Steve's length and started stroking, slow and smooth, up and down glide with a twist and fuck, fuck, Steve was trying not to lift his hips, not to arch his whole damn body, because fuck he wanted to pump right into Danny's hands, force him to go faster, but there was no room under the car and god it was so hot and he was stifling and he couldn't breathe and he could feel Danny's words rumbling through his body and knew they were things like "Yeah, Steve, like that?" and "Fuck, baby, come on, let go."
Steve thought about what they would look like, if a neighbor walked by the open garage door - probably nothing more than Danny crouched down talking to Steve about the car, waiting to hand off a tool or offer advice or talk about last night's football game and jesus, the thought of someone seeing them, no matter how innocent it looked, had Steve reeling.
Danny always knew him, knew when it was time, and the man gripped tighter and reached with his other hand to stroke just across the tip of Steve's cock, rub at the precome dripping from his slit, even as he started stroking up and down in a frenzy and shit, holy shit, Steve knew he was going to come right then and there, shoot right up under that damn car and all over them both and the sweat was stinging and blinding and he was choking on the air pressure and then he let go - just like he knew Danny was telling him too - and jerked hard and fast into Danny's grip and came.
When he opened his eyes, Steve was staring up at Danny's face. Steve's shorts were undone but back up around his waist and Danny was looking at him with the corners of his eyes scrunched up.
"What?" Steve asked, and god his voice felt weak.
"Lost you for a second," Danny said and Steve realized he must have yanked him out from under the car at some point.
"Too fucking hot," Steve told him.
Danny just grinned. "I know I am," and gestured with a nod of his head toward the house. "Let’s get you inside then. How does a shower sound?"
Steve wanted to just say, "Hell yes," but their relationship was built on nothing if not stubbornness. "I'm not done yet," he said instead.
Danny just grabbed Steve by the hand and pulled the man to his feet. "Yeah, I'm not done yet either."
The End
(idk where that came from, what just happened? Okay, well hope that helped).
Here, let me make it a little easier to deal with...
***
Steve was on his back under the car, even though it was really too hot for anything outside, let alone laying smack down on the radiating pavement of the garage floor. He could barely hear the sound of traffic over the roar of his radio, which may or may not have been belting some Styx.
This was probably how he didn't hear the man approaching, let alone notice him drop to his knees between Steve's splayed legs. Danny probably would kick his ass for being caught so unaware later.
Though sometimes Danny getting pissed could be fun too.
Steve jerked hard when the rough hands grabbed his ankles and yanked his legs father apart. He started to push off, fight back, when the hands began traveling up his legs, past his knees and holy shit, up under the cuffs of his shorts, but then instinct had him relaxing.
Because he knew those hands. Knew the way they touched him, feather-light and yet still completely sure of themselves.
"Christ, Danno," he breathed out and though the music was too loud to actually hear it, Steve felt the rumble of Danny's laugh ripple through him.
Sure fingers worked his belt buckle, undid the zip on his shorts and yanked them down.
Steve never wore underwear when it was this hot out.
Too hot actually, and Steve tried to slide out from under the car, but Danny held him still. Steve was already achingly hard and even with the sweat dripping off his face, he couldn't find the words to tell Danny to stop.
Certainly not when Danny wrapped those perfect fingers around Steve's length and started stroking, slow and smooth, up and down glide with a twist and fuck, fuck, Steve was trying not to lift his hips, not to arch his whole damn body, because fuck he wanted to pump right into Danny's hands, force him to go faster, but there was no room under the car and god it was so hot and he was stifling and he couldn't breathe and he could feel Danny's words rumbling through his body and knew they were things like "Yeah, Steve, like that?" and "Fuck, baby, come on, let go."
Steve thought about what they would look like, if a neighbor walked by the open garage door - probably nothing more than Danny crouched down talking to Steve about the car, waiting to hand off a tool or offer advice or talk about last night's football game and jesus, the thought of someone seeing them, no matter how innocent it looked, had Steve reeling.
Danny always knew him, knew when it was time, and the man gripped tighter and reached with his other hand to stroke just across the tip of Steve's cock, rub at the precome dripping from his slit, even as he started stroking up and down in a frenzy and shit, holy shit, Steve knew he was going to come right then and there, shoot right up under that damn car and all over them both and the sweat was stinging and blinding and he was choking on the air pressure and then he let go - just like he knew Danny was telling him too - and jerked hard and fast into Danny's grip and came.
When he opened his eyes, Steve was staring up at Danny's face. Steve's shorts were undone but back up around his waist and Danny was looking at him with the corners of his eyes scrunched up.
"What?" Steve asked, and god his voice felt weak.
"Lost you for a second," Danny said and Steve realized he must have yanked him out from under the car at some point.
"Too fucking hot," Steve told him.
Danny just grinned. "I know I am," and gestured with a nod of his head toward the house. "Let’s get you inside then. How does a shower sound?"
Steve wanted to just say, "Hell yes," but their relationship was built on nothing if not stubbornness. "I'm not done yet," he said instead.
Danny just grabbed Steve by the hand and pulled the man to his feet. "Yeah, I'm not done yet either."
The End
(idk where that came from, what just happened? Okay, well hope that helped).
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OH BB, HNNNNGH, I JUST CAME BACK FROM WATCHING POTC 4 (AGAIN) AND THIS. aldjflaskdfjalsd MY DAY IS AWESOME.
<333
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<3 <3 <3
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