Random... Parker/Trick NC-17 whatever buzyness
Title: Has None(No really, it doesn't.)
Author: Me, Rowan, whatever. Ruffian. W.T.F.
Disclaimer: None, 'cause these guys are actually mine(for once.)
Rating: Hard R I guess, NC_17 if you wanna squint. *squints*
Anything Else: It ends...rather abruptly, yeah. 'Cause I had to get off the computer and couldn't get back where I was again. Maybe some day. If I'm ever not that lazy. xP
"You lied! You fuckin' sonuva bitch! You LIED to me!" I couldn't help but grin, when Parker yells his face gets all blotchy and red and his voice cracks and pitches up just about an octave and his eyes narrow so close that they almost shut because I know he's really shutting them because he's trying not to cry. But even though I was grinning like a damm fool, after a little bit Parker's harsh scolding was starting to get on my nerves. Why the fuck did he have the right to get all up in my face and yell and bitch like some drama queen? I was the one who almost got hit by a car, dammit, I should be the one allowed to yell and rant and stomp and bicker.
"Wha' the fuck?" Okay, so maybe my ranting couldn't get much farther than that, but it was really really hard to talk around my tongue when it felt like a thick piece of cotton and kept getting stuck on the back of my teeth. Quite annoying. I had raised my hand to my mouth to check if my tongue had actually turned into a piece of cotton, but Parker smacked it away. And ow, that hurt. "Tha' hurt, asshole."
"'Trick." Parker never says my name like that. Low and serious like I was dying or something. Normally its either yelled out, like a bit before, or sing-songed in teasing, or just casual like a 'Hey, 'Trick, what's up?' So when he said it like that, I stopped laughing -when did I start laughing?- and tilted my head back, whoa easy there, too far, now there I go, to look at Parker.
"Wha?"
"You do know that as of thirty seconds ago you could've been roadkill, flattened by a hunk of metal commonly known as a SUV, right?" Whoa there, Parker. Ease up on the big words, I need more vocab books because half of you said just made no sense.
"...Wha?"
"You. Dead. As in 'Stairway to Heaven', 'Tuesday's Gone', a fuckin' funeral march." That made more sense. Stairway to Heaven? Fuckin' Led Zeppelin kicks ass man. And Lynyrd Skynyrd is good for some kickin' old school rock. Not that Zeppelin ain't old school, just Skynyrd....is older. Like I'm older than Parker. Heeey, if I'm the older one, shouldn't that mean I get to be the bossy person in this?
"Heeeeeeeeey, I'm older than you. Whatchu yellin' at me for?"
I swear someone just sprayed glass cleaner on Parker's brown eyes, 'cause they got all glassy in a second and were so shiny I swear I could almost see my reflection in them. Leaning closer, I realized that I could see my reflection. Awesome. But then I couldn't lean in anymore because, whoops, my nose and forehead just bumped into Parker's and trying to look in both Parker's eyes at the same time was making me go all cross-eyed. And whoa did that give me a headache. I took a step back, but was stopped from going any farther because suddenly Parker's hands were around my waist and held me still. I could feel his warm fingers press into my lower back even through my t-shirt, and the warmth felt so good that I gave a little shiver. I love being warm. Love being warm so much in fact, that I next found myself snuggled up against Parker with my head on his chest and my hands up his jacket. Mmmm....warm.
But then it was cold again, and the concrete hurt like a mother when I fell back on my ass. Owwwie. Why the fuck was I on the ground when I was once all nice and cozy against Parker? Glancing up at him I now saw the way his face had gotten all dark and pulled down and around in a big scowl and realized that he had pushed me down. "Wha the fuck, Park? Why'd you push me away, you fucker. I was warm righ' there, thank-you-not-so-very-much." Scrambling to my feet, I pushed at Parker's chest, determined to knock him down and show him how it felt when his ass didn't get a nice greeting with the cold pavement. But man, he was like one of those fuckin' Weeblie Wobblies, or whatever they were called. he would weeble and wobble but he wouldn't fall down. Dammit! "Fall the fuck down already, Parker! FALL DOWN!" This time when I lifted my hands to push at him, suddenly Parker's warm fingers were back, now wrapped tightly around my wrists and yanking my off balance and towards him. His mouth was nice and warm against my neck, slick tongue giving me the shivers again as it flicked out to tease around my ear. Damm Parker for knowing that my ears make me all weak in the knees.
"Fuck you, 'Trick" The cool air blowing over my wet ear made me shiver again, and my teeth started chattering. "Fuck you, for still going out and getting off like you want, because you want to be a bad boy so damm hard you do it even though it means you'll lose me. Fuck you for being such a fuckin' idiot." Somewhere, somehow, I was realizing that these words weren't perhaps good ones, but with Parker's warm hands slipping underneath my shirt and skipping up my sides I didn't particularly care. Mmm...warm hands, I love Parker's hands.
Especially when... "Oh God. Whatchu doin', Parker?" His fingers had closed around my left nipple, tugging and pulling at it until it became a hard little nub under his fingers and I felt my insides flop over and become sparkly like fireflies. Or was flying around like fireflies...fluttering like butterflies. Something.
He didn't answer me at first, instead pushing at my chest, his two fingers still closed around my nipple, and moved up around until I put my one foot back and felt nothing but air. Looking over my shoulder, I was temporarily blinded by the glitter of lights being reflected up through the water of the pool. So that meant we were in my backyard, because I recognized that stupid arrangement of sea shells and dolphins in red and green stone -Christmas colors I had pointed out- on the floor of my pool. "Fucking you." His voice brought my head whipping around, that and another sharp tug on my nipple, which stung like hell but still felt so damm good, just as he removed his hands from under my shirt and gave both my shoulders a good shove.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee, weightlessness! My arms flailed a bit, my legs couldn't do much before my back slapped against the water and I started steadily sinking. Now my legs flailed and kicked, until I found my footing and popped up, spluttering and trying to get the nasty taste of chlorine-saturated water out of my mouth. Eck. Chemicals. And not the good kind. Ewwie. I started scraping at my tongue with my fingernails, though that didn't help as my hands were wet with the pool water and only made the taste worse. Double eck. Double ewwie. But then Parker suddenly popped up next to me, his top half out of the water was nice and dry, I guess he had decided on a more easing way in the pool rather than ending up like me. Wet as a drowned rat, though with Parker's fingers raking through my red-blonde hair and pushing the wet strands off my forehead I felt more like a puppy, or so Parker was telling me.
"Gonna fuck you like the whore you are, you fuckin' bitch. Can't stand being who you are, gotta trail after them like a damm lost puppy. Can't stand just to stay with me." His fingers had now moved off my hair, thumbs pressing against my mouth and then further down and under the surface of the water to my belt buckle. Mmm, his fingers were still warm even in the heated water of the pool, dipping underneath the opened front of my jeans and just brushing the backs of his knuckles across my lower lower belly. That soft little space not many people hang around because its caught between two more famous zones, the hips and the actual goods. But man does it feel good, especially when Parker touches it just like "That. Oh God, Parker."
Parker knows all my little places, like my ears and my nipples, and the backs of my knees, and that little spot of belly. He loves to exploit them, teasing the hell out of me until I start begging for him to just move on to something else before I come too soon. Or so I can come faster. But thankfully tonight he seems to have something more important on his mind, because quicker than I can finish drawing in a breath to moan at how good his touches feel, he's moved on to bigger and better things. Namely my cock. Yeeeah, love it when he touches it just like thaaaat. Hnnn. It felt so damm good that when he pushed a finger into me, I barely noticed and only marked the event with a small whimper. And then two fingers were there, that time I gasped and stopped staring at Parker's hand wrapped around my dick long enough to force my head up to look at him in the face.
He looked angry, like he had before. Why was Parker angry? "Why're you angry, Park?" This felt good, so why wasn't he feeling good? Maybe I needed to give him back a little. I lifted my hands to reach for him, but he simply growled and pulled out his fingers so fast it hurt and then used that hand to capture both my wrists and push them back towards me. I frowned then, because I had just wanted to help. "Why're you still angry at me?"
He glared at me, like I was supposed to know the answer and not ask such stupid questions. But I didn't know! I felt tears welling up as I soon became frustrated in my not knowing, frustrated plus me equals a breakdown with all the waterworks. But then I had a real reason to cry, Parker had tugged and worked my jeans down, chafing my thighs with the wet and heavy fabric as he went, and apparently had done the same to himself because next thing I know, he's in me and pushing in, driving in harder and deeper until he just physically can't go in anymore. And it hurts like nothing else, this massive burn and painful stretching that has my skin crawling and my lungs working overtime as I try to pant and sweat out the onslaught of sheer, fierce pain. I'm crying, I can feel the tears on my cheeks that aren't droplets of pool water because they're warmer, like Parker's hands, and when they reached my open mouth they taste more like natural salt than chlorine does.
"Parker, wait-" He doesn't though, he pulls out and then pushes back in, glaring at me all the while. "Parker, stop. Stop, ow! It hurts, man! Stop!" Now I'm trying to push him away, but there he is with his hands again, taking my wrists and interlacing my fingers together and then looping my arms around his head. Suddenly the concrete wall of the pool bites into my back, and I yelp but Parker muffles it by leaning in and smothering my face against his shoulder. I can barely breathe, but Parker doesn't seem to notice as he maneuvers my legs so they’re spread wider about his waist, half-floating with the aid of the water giving them some buoyancy. Why am I thinking of how my legs are bobbing like little buoys when Parker’s pressing my tighter against the wall and in turn tighter against his chest so now everytime I suck in a breath I can smell him through his shirt? I can smell Parker and the pool and Parker’s soap and his mom’s favorite brand of ‘rain fresh’ laundry detergent.
His hands burrow under my shirt again, pushing and shoving at the hem until the fabric is bunched around my upper chest and not going any farther because its stuck on my arms and apparently Parker is not bothered enough to want to take it all off. Instead, he seems bothered enough to settle into a steady, but not slow, rhythm of sliding in and out of me and spread his fingers as far as they can go across my chest. He starts with one thumb touching the far left point of my stars tattoo, extending his fingers so his pinky can reach over two stars in the middle and reach the top of the fourth star in the line. The stars angle up my body towards my upper right chest, and so where Parker's finger is I can feel the heat of it so close to my nipple that it hardens on automatic and I get the shivers for the billionth time. Then his mouth is there, tracing in between his fingers and around them like he's tracing a design. "Mine," he whispers, making his point with a sharp nip of his teeth and a strong thrust that has me aching and gasping and swearing I'm about to die.
END.
Author: Me, Rowan, whatever. Ruffian. W.T.F.
Disclaimer: None, 'cause these guys are actually mine(for once.)
Rating: Hard R I guess, NC_17 if you wanna squint. *squints*
Anything Else: It ends...rather abruptly, yeah. 'Cause I had to get off the computer and couldn't get back where I was again. Maybe some day. If I'm ever not that lazy. xP
"You lied! You fuckin' sonuva bitch! You LIED to me!" I couldn't help but grin, when Parker yells his face gets all blotchy and red and his voice cracks and pitches up just about an octave and his eyes narrow so close that they almost shut because I know he's really shutting them because he's trying not to cry. But even though I was grinning like a damm fool, after a little bit Parker's harsh scolding was starting to get on my nerves. Why the fuck did he have the right to get all up in my face and yell and bitch like some drama queen? I was the one who almost got hit by a car, dammit, I should be the one allowed to yell and rant and stomp and bicker.
"Wha' the fuck?" Okay, so maybe my ranting couldn't get much farther than that, but it was really really hard to talk around my tongue when it felt like a thick piece of cotton and kept getting stuck on the back of my teeth. Quite annoying. I had raised my hand to my mouth to check if my tongue had actually turned into a piece of cotton, but Parker smacked it away. And ow, that hurt. "Tha' hurt, asshole."
"'Trick." Parker never says my name like that. Low and serious like I was dying or something. Normally its either yelled out, like a bit before, or sing-songed in teasing, or just casual like a 'Hey, 'Trick, what's up?' So when he said it like that, I stopped laughing -when did I start laughing?- and tilted my head back, whoa easy there, too far, now there I go, to look at Parker.
"Wha?"
"You do know that as of thirty seconds ago you could've been roadkill, flattened by a hunk of metal commonly known as a SUV, right?" Whoa there, Parker. Ease up on the big words, I need more vocab books because half of you said just made no sense.
"...Wha?"
"You. Dead. As in 'Stairway to Heaven', 'Tuesday's Gone', a fuckin' funeral march." That made more sense. Stairway to Heaven? Fuckin' Led Zeppelin kicks ass man. And Lynyrd Skynyrd is good for some kickin' old school rock. Not that Zeppelin ain't old school, just Skynyrd....is older. Like I'm older than Parker. Heeey, if I'm the older one, shouldn't that mean I get to be the bossy person in this?
"Heeeeeeeeey, I'm older than you. Whatchu yellin' at me for?"
I swear someone just sprayed glass cleaner on Parker's brown eyes, 'cause they got all glassy in a second and were so shiny I swear I could almost see my reflection in them. Leaning closer, I realized that I could see my reflection. Awesome. But then I couldn't lean in anymore because, whoops, my nose and forehead just bumped into Parker's and trying to look in both Parker's eyes at the same time was making me go all cross-eyed. And whoa did that give me a headache. I took a step back, but was stopped from going any farther because suddenly Parker's hands were around my waist and held me still. I could feel his warm fingers press into my lower back even through my t-shirt, and the warmth felt so good that I gave a little shiver. I love being warm. Love being warm so much in fact, that I next found myself snuggled up against Parker with my head on his chest and my hands up his jacket. Mmmm....warm.
But then it was cold again, and the concrete hurt like a mother when I fell back on my ass. Owwwie. Why the fuck was I on the ground when I was once all nice and cozy against Parker? Glancing up at him I now saw the way his face had gotten all dark and pulled down and around in a big scowl and realized that he had pushed me down. "Wha the fuck, Park? Why'd you push me away, you fucker. I was warm righ' there, thank-you-not-so-very-much." Scrambling to my feet, I pushed at Parker's chest, determined to knock him down and show him how it felt when his ass didn't get a nice greeting with the cold pavement. But man, he was like one of those fuckin' Weeblie Wobblies, or whatever they were called. he would weeble and wobble but he wouldn't fall down. Dammit! "Fall the fuck down already, Parker! FALL DOWN!" This time when I lifted my hands to push at him, suddenly Parker's warm fingers were back, now wrapped tightly around my wrists and yanking my off balance and towards him. His mouth was nice and warm against my neck, slick tongue giving me the shivers again as it flicked out to tease around my ear. Damm Parker for knowing that my ears make me all weak in the knees.
"Fuck you, 'Trick" The cool air blowing over my wet ear made me shiver again, and my teeth started chattering. "Fuck you, for still going out and getting off like you want, because you want to be a bad boy so damm hard you do it even though it means you'll lose me. Fuck you for being such a fuckin' idiot." Somewhere, somehow, I was realizing that these words weren't perhaps good ones, but with Parker's warm hands slipping underneath my shirt and skipping up my sides I didn't particularly care. Mmm...warm hands, I love Parker's hands.
Especially when... "Oh God. Whatchu doin', Parker?" His fingers had closed around my left nipple, tugging and pulling at it until it became a hard little nub under his fingers and I felt my insides flop over and become sparkly like fireflies. Or was flying around like fireflies...fluttering like butterflies. Something.
He didn't answer me at first, instead pushing at my chest, his two fingers still closed around my nipple, and moved up around until I put my one foot back and felt nothing but air. Looking over my shoulder, I was temporarily blinded by the glitter of lights being reflected up through the water of the pool. So that meant we were in my backyard, because I recognized that stupid arrangement of sea shells and dolphins in red and green stone -Christmas colors I had pointed out- on the floor of my pool. "Fucking you." His voice brought my head whipping around, that and another sharp tug on my nipple, which stung like hell but still felt so damm good, just as he removed his hands from under my shirt and gave both my shoulders a good shove.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee, weightlessness! My arms flailed a bit, my legs couldn't do much before my back slapped against the water and I started steadily sinking. Now my legs flailed and kicked, until I found my footing and popped up, spluttering and trying to get the nasty taste of chlorine-saturated water out of my mouth. Eck. Chemicals. And not the good kind. Ewwie. I started scraping at my tongue with my fingernails, though that didn't help as my hands were wet with the pool water and only made the taste worse. Double eck. Double ewwie. But then Parker suddenly popped up next to me, his top half out of the water was nice and dry, I guess he had decided on a more easing way in the pool rather than ending up like me. Wet as a drowned rat, though with Parker's fingers raking through my red-blonde hair and pushing the wet strands off my forehead I felt more like a puppy, or so Parker was telling me.
"Gonna fuck you like the whore you are, you fuckin' bitch. Can't stand being who you are, gotta trail after them like a damm lost puppy. Can't stand just to stay with me." His fingers had now moved off my hair, thumbs pressing against my mouth and then further down and under the surface of the water to my belt buckle. Mmm, his fingers were still warm even in the heated water of the pool, dipping underneath the opened front of my jeans and just brushing the backs of his knuckles across my lower lower belly. That soft little space not many people hang around because its caught between two more famous zones, the hips and the actual goods. But man does it feel good, especially when Parker touches it just like "That. Oh God, Parker."
Parker knows all my little places, like my ears and my nipples, and the backs of my knees, and that little spot of belly. He loves to exploit them, teasing the hell out of me until I start begging for him to just move on to something else before I come too soon. Or so I can come faster. But thankfully tonight he seems to have something more important on his mind, because quicker than I can finish drawing in a breath to moan at how good his touches feel, he's moved on to bigger and better things. Namely my cock. Yeeeah, love it when he touches it just like thaaaat. Hnnn. It felt so damm good that when he pushed a finger into me, I barely noticed and only marked the event with a small whimper. And then two fingers were there, that time I gasped and stopped staring at Parker's hand wrapped around my dick long enough to force my head up to look at him in the face.
He looked angry, like he had before. Why was Parker angry? "Why're you angry, Park?" This felt good, so why wasn't he feeling good? Maybe I needed to give him back a little. I lifted my hands to reach for him, but he simply growled and pulled out his fingers so fast it hurt and then used that hand to capture both my wrists and push them back towards me. I frowned then, because I had just wanted to help. "Why're you still angry at me?"
He glared at me, like I was supposed to know the answer and not ask such stupid questions. But I didn't know! I felt tears welling up as I soon became frustrated in my not knowing, frustrated plus me equals a breakdown with all the waterworks. But then I had a real reason to cry, Parker had tugged and worked my jeans down, chafing my thighs with the wet and heavy fabric as he went, and apparently had done the same to himself because next thing I know, he's in me and pushing in, driving in harder and deeper until he just physically can't go in anymore. And it hurts like nothing else, this massive burn and painful stretching that has my skin crawling and my lungs working overtime as I try to pant and sweat out the onslaught of sheer, fierce pain. I'm crying, I can feel the tears on my cheeks that aren't droplets of pool water because they're warmer, like Parker's hands, and when they reached my open mouth they taste more like natural salt than chlorine does.
"Parker, wait-" He doesn't though, he pulls out and then pushes back in, glaring at me all the while. "Parker, stop. Stop, ow! It hurts, man! Stop!" Now I'm trying to push him away, but there he is with his hands again, taking my wrists and interlacing my fingers together and then looping my arms around his head. Suddenly the concrete wall of the pool bites into my back, and I yelp but Parker muffles it by leaning in and smothering my face against his shoulder. I can barely breathe, but Parker doesn't seem to notice as he maneuvers my legs so they’re spread wider about his waist, half-floating with the aid of the water giving them some buoyancy. Why am I thinking of how my legs are bobbing like little buoys when Parker’s pressing my tighter against the wall and in turn tighter against his chest so now everytime I suck in a breath I can smell him through his shirt? I can smell Parker and the pool and Parker’s soap and his mom’s favorite brand of ‘rain fresh’ laundry detergent.
His hands burrow under my shirt again, pushing and shoving at the hem until the fabric is bunched around my upper chest and not going any farther because its stuck on my arms and apparently Parker is not bothered enough to want to take it all off. Instead, he seems bothered enough to settle into a steady, but not slow, rhythm of sliding in and out of me and spread his fingers as far as they can go across my chest. He starts with one thumb touching the far left point of my stars tattoo, extending his fingers so his pinky can reach over two stars in the middle and reach the top of the fourth star in the line. The stars angle up my body towards my upper right chest, and so where Parker's finger is I can feel the heat of it so close to my nipple that it hardens on automatic and I get the shivers for the billionth time. Then his mouth is there, tracing in between his fingers and around them like he's tracing a design. "Mine," he whispers, making his point with a sharp nip of his teeth and a strong thrust that has me aching and gasping and swearing I'm about to die.
END.