Fic: love has its own demands
Title: love has its own demands
Summary: Charles can't get enough, and Pickles doesn't mind.
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Word Count: 1011
Rating/Contents: NC-17, trans!Pickles
Pairing: Charles/Pickles
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For the worship square on my
kink_bingo card. For maximum sexiness.
When Pickles looks up into the mirror, Charles is leaning back on the doorjamb, watching him. "I, ah, didn't realize you shaved your head."
Pickles carefully drags the razor over his scalp, clearing off the last of the shaving cream. "Makes me look more badass."
Charles waits for him to put down the razor before stepping in behind him, putting his arms around him, sliding a hand down to grope him shamelessly. "You're not packing today?"
"Nah, I didn't intend on-" The rest of the sentence is lost when Charles digs in with his fingers, rubbing Pickles's clit through his briefs. "Shit, if I knew it made you that horny, I'd wear it less often."
Charles kisses the back of his neck. "I like you any way I can have you." Not content with kissing, he moves on to biting, sucking at a spot on the side of Pickles's throat. "And I do intend to have you."
Pickles practically throws his briefs off in his haste. "You need to be naked, right now."
"We can do that," Charles says, stepping back to undo his tie, tossing it carelessly away. Pickles quickly divests him of his shirt, as fast he can while still pausing to feel him up as much as possible. Between the two of them, they get Charles undressed in record time; Pickles drags him to the bed, flopping down on it and pulling Charles on top of him. Now Charles is the one who can't keep his hands under control; he reaches down so that he can slide his fingers into Pickles's cunt, working them in and out shallowly, glancing over his clit.
"Shit," Pickles breathes. "Hurry up and fuck me."
"You're fast," Charles says.
"No complaints so far," Pickles replies, grinning.
"It's too bad I want it slow," he says, bending to bite at his neck.
Slowly, reverently, he works his way down Pickles's body; Pickles arches off the bed as Charles presses his lips to the curve of his hip and bites down, sucking a dark red mark there. He blows cool air over it, soothing the offended skin, but then he presses his fingers into it, making it hurt more; Pickles presses into it, not minding if Charles leaves his mark on him.
"God, I love the way you look," Charles says, quietly enough that Pickles isn't even sure he's supposed to hear it. He doesn't care one way or another, though, because Charles picks that moment to lower his mouth to his clit, sucking gently as he pushes his fingers into him.
"C'mon, dude, now you really have to fuck me," Pickles says, grabbing at Charles's shoulder, spreading his legs so Charles can get into position. He groans as Charles pushes inside of him, hooking a leg around him to draw him in deeper.
Charles always looks so lost at that moment, that first press of his cock into Pickles's body; Charles never ever looks anything but completely put together except at that instant. It's like he can't believe it's really happening, that he's really getting to do this to someone he wants so much.
Pickles can't get enough of it.
"Yeah, that's it," he says, as Charles snaps his hips forward. "Fuck me harder."
"Yes, sir," Charles says, with a little grin. He makes good on it, grabbing Pickles by the waist and just shoving into him, just how Pickles wants.
Pickles knows neither of them is going to last very long, not after that warm-up; when the feeling starts creeping up in his spine, he just lets it wash over him, coming hard around Charles's cock. Charles bites his lip, taking it, taking him through it. He leans down, kissing Pickles hard. "Do that again."
Pickles can't really even respond; it's not as important as working up to meet Charles's thrusts, grabbing his ass to keep him as close and tight as possible. It's not going to be hard to comply, not when Charles takes him by the legs and pulls him up, hooking his knees around his shoulders so he can pound in harder.
"Shit," Pickles says, from between clenched teeth. "Fuck yeah, like that."
"You like it?" Charles asks breathlessly.
"Long as you keep doing it," he replies. He slips his hand between them, working at his clit.
"Not going to be long," Charles says tightly.
Pickles throws his head back, moving his fingers faster. "Come on and do it," he says, pressing his fingers in at just the right spot. "Wanna feel you."
It's all Charles is waiting for; he slams in a few more times, and then Pickles can feel him pulsing inside, coming deep in his cunt. It's all Pickles needs to push him over the edge. His fingers dig into Charles's skin as he comes.
Charles is infinitely careful as he withdraws, lowering Pickles's sore legs and sliding out of him. Pickles has told him on about a billion occasions not to, but Charles gets up immediately, going to the bathroom. Pickles forgives him once again as he comes back with a washcloth, climbing back into the bed and washing him, swiping the cloth gently between his thighs. That done, Pickles grabs it out of his hand and tosses it away, pulling Charles by the wrist and kissing him, keeping him with him for as long as he can.
Charles's hands still rove over Pickles's body, unable to stop touching. Charles doesn't even need to say anything about it for Pickles to know how much he loves it, maybe even more than he loves Pickles's brain. Pickles doesn't care. He stopped giving a shit if people liked him for his mind about- wait, no, he never gave a shit about that. Somebody loving him for his body, well.
Let's just say he has every intention to keep Charles around.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/324821.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Charles can't get enough, and Pickles doesn't mind.
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Word Count: 1011
Rating/Contents: NC-17, trans!Pickles
Pairing: Charles/Pickles
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For the worship square on my
kink_bingo card. For maximum sexiness.
When Pickles looks up into the mirror, Charles is leaning back on the doorjamb, watching him. "I, ah, didn't realize you shaved your head."
Pickles carefully drags the razor over his scalp, clearing off the last of the shaving cream. "Makes me look more badass."
Charles waits for him to put down the razor before stepping in behind him, putting his arms around him, sliding a hand down to grope him shamelessly. "You're not packing today?"
"Nah, I didn't intend on-" The rest of the sentence is lost when Charles digs in with his fingers, rubbing Pickles's clit through his briefs. "Shit, if I knew it made you that horny, I'd wear it less often."
Charles kisses the back of his neck. "I like you any way I can have you." Not content with kissing, he moves on to biting, sucking at a spot on the side of Pickles's throat. "And I do intend to have you."
Pickles practically throws his briefs off in his haste. "You need to be naked, right now."
"We can do that," Charles says, stepping back to undo his tie, tossing it carelessly away. Pickles quickly divests him of his shirt, as fast he can while still pausing to feel him up as much as possible. Between the two of them, they get Charles undressed in record time; Pickles drags him to the bed, flopping down on it and pulling Charles on top of him. Now Charles is the one who can't keep his hands under control; he reaches down so that he can slide his fingers into Pickles's cunt, working them in and out shallowly, glancing over his clit.
"Shit," Pickles breathes. "Hurry up and fuck me."
"You're fast," Charles says.
"No complaints so far," Pickles replies, grinning.
"It's too bad I want it slow," he says, bending to bite at his neck.
Slowly, reverently, he works his way down Pickles's body; Pickles arches off the bed as Charles presses his lips to the curve of his hip and bites down, sucking a dark red mark there. He blows cool air over it, soothing the offended skin, but then he presses his fingers into it, making it hurt more; Pickles presses into it, not minding if Charles leaves his mark on him.
"God, I love the way you look," Charles says, quietly enough that Pickles isn't even sure he's supposed to hear it. He doesn't care one way or another, though, because Charles picks that moment to lower his mouth to his clit, sucking gently as he pushes his fingers into him.
"C'mon, dude, now you really have to fuck me," Pickles says, grabbing at Charles's shoulder, spreading his legs so Charles can get into position. He groans as Charles pushes inside of him, hooking a leg around him to draw him in deeper.
Charles always looks so lost at that moment, that first press of his cock into Pickles's body; Charles never ever looks anything but completely put together except at that instant. It's like he can't believe it's really happening, that he's really getting to do this to someone he wants so much.
Pickles can't get enough of it.
"Yeah, that's it," he says, as Charles snaps his hips forward. "Fuck me harder."
"Yes, sir," Charles says, with a little grin. He makes good on it, grabbing Pickles by the waist and just shoving into him, just how Pickles wants.
Pickles knows neither of them is going to last very long, not after that warm-up; when the feeling starts creeping up in his spine, he just lets it wash over him, coming hard around Charles's cock. Charles bites his lip, taking it, taking him through it. He leans down, kissing Pickles hard. "Do that again."
Pickles can't really even respond; it's not as important as working up to meet Charles's thrusts, grabbing his ass to keep him as close and tight as possible. It's not going to be hard to comply, not when Charles takes him by the legs and pulls him up, hooking his knees around his shoulders so he can pound in harder.
"Shit," Pickles says, from between clenched teeth. "Fuck yeah, like that."
"You like it?" Charles asks breathlessly.
"Long as you keep doing it," he replies. He slips his hand between them, working at his clit.
"Not going to be long," Charles says tightly.
Pickles throws his head back, moving his fingers faster. "Come on and do it," he says, pressing his fingers in at just the right spot. "Wanna feel you."
It's all Charles is waiting for; he slams in a few more times, and then Pickles can feel him pulsing inside, coming deep in his cunt. It's all Pickles needs to push him over the edge. His fingers dig into Charles's skin as he comes.
Charles is infinitely careful as he withdraws, lowering Pickles's sore legs and sliding out of him. Pickles has told him on about a billion occasions not to, but Charles gets up immediately, going to the bathroom. Pickles forgives him once again as he comes back with a washcloth, climbing back into the bed and washing him, swiping the cloth gently between his thighs. That done, Pickles grabs it out of his hand and tosses it away, pulling Charles by the wrist and kissing him, keeping him with him for as long as he can.
Charles's hands still rove over Pickles's body, unable to stop touching. Charles doesn't even need to say anything about it for Pickles to know how much he loves it, maybe even more than he loves Pickles's brain. Pickles doesn't care. He stopped giving a shit if people liked him for his mind about- wait, no, he never gave a shit about that. Somebody loving him for his body, well.
Let's just say he has every intention to keep Charles around.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/324821.html.
comments over there.