Fill: Chibs/Juice, Everyone Crazy 'Bout a Sharps-Rigged Man 3/4, NC-17o_contraryOctober 28 2012, 04:20:07 UTC
There are all kinds of ways to put the holster straps to use if you're familiar with your rig and know what you're doing. Before Juice even has a chance to wonder at him, Chibs slips out of it, gets one half looped around and through Juice's wrists as a makeshift restraint and the other slung back around his own neck.
Juice goes stock-still under Chibs for a moment, taking in his handiwork, then groans, thumping his head back against the van floor even as he pushes his hips up. "Fuck, Chibs, please, 'm ready, got myself ready for you inside before, please," he babbles, and Chibs has to take a tight grip on himself through his pants and a steadying breath at that.
The lad's gonna kill him, but he'll bloody well be going with a smile.
"Christ, Juice, gonna kill me," he grinds out anyway - they're not much on endearments, but appreciation never hurt anyone - digging for the condom in his pocket and trying to get his pants out of the way at the same time. Juice just huffs out a laugh and curses under his breath about Chibs being one to talk as he kicks one leg free of his jeans - boot still on, Chibs notes absently, the ridiculous baggy pants have their uses - so he can bracket Chibs's hips with his legs.
"Damn right, if you don't get a move on," he taunts, but there's enough desperation in it to match Chibs's own as he squeezes his own eyes shut while slicking the rubber down that he's not gonna hold it against him.
"Don' worry, laddie," Chibs growls softly, hoisting Juice’s hips on his lap, lining up and nudging forward, a long, slow slide in, and fuck, Juice wasn't lying, it's all easy give until he's balls-deep in tight, gripping heat, "I've got ye."
Juice makes a truly pornographic noise as Chibs bottoms out, throwing his head back. Chibs gives him - gives them - a moment, resting one hand on Juice's trembling belly, letting his thumb stroke over his navel and the hint of stubble below, smearing the drops of precome he finds there and completely avoiding Juice's cock; no sense ending things early. When Juice whines and kicks lightly at him, it's all the blessed signal he needs to pull back until the head of his dick is just barely caught inside, pausing just enough for Juice to give him a narrow-eyed look before Chibs snaps his hips forward and buries himself again, eyes closing at how bloody goddamned good it is. Juice yells, hoarse and choked-off as he bucks into the thrust, and, as Chibs picks up a hard, relentless rhythm, words follow like Juice thinks he'll never get the chance to use them again.
"Goddamn, Chibbie, fuck, so fucking good, wanted this, fucking wanted you since this morning when I saw you putting that rig on - fuck - " he breaks off, breath punching out when Chibs pulls out entirely, as much in self-preservation as anything else. He's not ready to be done yet, and hearing Juice narrate his fantasy of the day in that lust-fogged voice is bringing the finish line too close too fast.
It's absolutely nothing to do with the complex he's going to develop if the lad keeps waxing rhapsodic about his shoulder rig.
Fill: Chibs/Juice, Everyone Crazy 'Bout a Sharps-Rigged Man 4/4, NC-17o_contraryOctober 28 2012, 04:22:03 UTC
"Juice, laddie, ye've got to keep it down, no tellin' who'll pass by," he cautions, not caring that his own voice is in tatters, trailing a thumb over Juice's lower lip. Juice's eyelids open to half-mast, his tongue darting out to catch the tip of Chibs's thumb, and it's Chibs's turn to shiver and bite off a telling sort of noise as he slowly inches his cock back into Juice, relishing the way Juice struggles to keep his eyes open, the way he levers his hips up to take Chibs deeper.
"C'mere," Juice whispers. Chibs does, shifting to balance on his knees and elbows, hips canting a little at the low keen Juice gives him with the change in position. Chibs drops his head to find Juice's mouth with his own and kiss him deeply, less a clash for dominance than because he just needs to right then, and Juice responds eagerly, tongue tangling with Chibs's on soft, pleased noises that taper into impatience, hips grinding up as Chibs begins to rock into him again, slowly. "Can I..." he trails off, eyes flicking down to the pieces of the other half of the rig hanging between them and licking his lips.
Chibs thinks he knows what Juice is getting at, and the heat and tension that have been growing in his lower back are suddenly more urgent, making his belly go tight and his thighs shake. "Aye, laddie," he agrees unsteadily, watching raptly as Juice raises his head and catches one of the straps in his teeth before nodding at Chibs with a challenge in his eyes. Chibs grins back, and fucks into him, hard and fast, the thought of his rig permanently bearing Juice's dental imprints spurring him as much as Juice's writhing under him, his encouraging moans barely stifled by the strap.
Then he realizes Juice's bound hands are pressed to Chibs's chest now, his hands that he hasn't once moved in such a way as to put any strain on Chibs's neck whatsoever.
It's the little things, he thinks helplessly, losing his rhythm as his orgasm slams up his spine, drawing him bowstring-tight, bright lights blurring his vision as he clenches his jaw around his own too-loud cry.
He doesn't let himself linger on it as long as he'd like, distracted by Juice's squirming as he tries to bring himself over. "I've got you, laddie," he soothes, dipping his head to kiss the backs of Juice's hands, teasing a curled finger straight to take into his mouth as he wraps a hand around Juice's shaft, moaning at the weight, the feel of it pulsing in his palm. Three quick, firm strokes and a twist and Juice is making a strangled, unholy sound, his entire frame shuddering and twisting as he comes in a hot spatter over Chibs's wrist and his own stomach. Chibs sits up just enough to watch it work him over, wringing him out as he strokes him through the last of it, his other hand smoothing circles over Juice's flank to ground him.
When Juice is a pliant lump on the floor of the van, staring dazedly at the ceiling, Chibs pulls out carefully before reaching up to ease his rig strap from Juice’s teeth and unwind it from his wrists, then ducks out of the loop around his own neck to take a look at the damage. He whistles lowly when he finds the indentations from Juice’s teeth - anyone needs Juice’s dental info down the line, he’s not fucking volunteering his rig as a specimen. “Guess you liked that, eh, Juicy?” he huffs, not even trying to sound exasperated. He’d fail miserably. Juice just gives him a sloppy, shit-eating grin, and Chibs ruffles the short hair of his mohawk fondly. “C’mon, laddie, up and at ‘em, promised Piney I’d air her out.”
Juice wrinkles his nose, but sits up slowly, stretching as Chibs peels off the condom and ties it. “Really? This should be an improvement.”
“Aye, ye’d think, but he was surprisingly insistent about it.”
Juice grumbles some more, but together they manage a passable job of getting dressed and cleaning up after themselves.
If Chibs ‘forgets’ to pick up the condom in the course of opening the windows and the haphazard wipe-down, well, Juice isn’t going to be the one to point it out.
Re: Fill: Chibs/Juice, Everyone Crazy 'Bout a Sharps-Rigged Man 4/4, NC-17linndechirOctober 28 2012, 17:52:11 UTC
This is absolutely perfect in every way. The dialogue and the porn and Juice being cheeky and Chibs being very amused by Juice's kinks ... just perfect.
Then he realizes Juice's bound hands are pressed to Chibs's chest now, his hands that he hasn't once moved in such a way as to put any strain on Chibs's neck whatsoever. Loved this little detail. I actually loved a lot of details, but then I'd be quoting half your fic back at you. ;) Thank you so much for writing this. :)
Re: Fill: Chibs/Juice, Everyone Crazy 'Bout a Sharps-Rigged Man 4/4, NC-17o_contraryOctober 28 2012, 23:35:45 UTC
Thank you so much! I had so much fun with them, I'm so thrilled you enjoyed it, too, lol. It'll take me FOREVER, because I get ~distracted~ by PWP's, but I have Plans for the scarf. And the shirt. And The Jeans, for which canon will probably go right out the window. This one, though, I HAD to try and get out ASAP so it wouldn't ruin me for anything else, and it still felt like it took forever. HOLSTERS, for the love of Pete.
It'd be hilarious if Juice was basically a vanilla guy until Chibs happened.
Ahem. Sorry for the babbling! Thanks again, and I am so, so glad someone else loves that leather shirt - and the rest of Chibs's mostly-fantasticals wardrobe - as much as I do! ;D
Re: Fill: Chibs/Juice, Everyone Crazy 'Bout a Sharps-Rigged Man 4/4, NC-17o_contraryNovember 7 2012, 00:18:56 UTC
I'm nervous about tonight's ep, so possibly exploring the many possibilities of Chibs's wardrobe and Juice's previously-vanilla ways will be my distraction!
And yes, yes he can. No question. I was a little, er, bent before getting into SoA, but I don't think I'm imagining that my pornier bits have gotten not only pornier, but kinkier. This... is not a complaint, other than my tendency to get idea-whammied in public. *facepalm*
Juice goes stock-still under Chibs for a moment, taking in his handiwork, then groans, thumping his head back against the van floor even as he pushes his hips up. "Fuck, Chibs, please, 'm ready, got myself ready for you inside before, please," he babbles, and Chibs has to take a tight grip on himself through his pants and a steadying breath at that.
The lad's gonna kill him, but he'll bloody well be going with a smile.
"Christ, Juice, gonna kill me," he grinds out anyway - they're not much on endearments, but appreciation never hurt anyone - digging for the condom in his pocket and trying to get his pants out of the way at the same time. Juice just huffs out a laugh and curses under his breath about Chibs being one to talk as he kicks one leg free of his jeans - boot still on, Chibs notes absently, the ridiculous baggy pants have their uses - so he can bracket Chibs's hips with his legs.
"Damn right, if you don't get a move on," he taunts, but there's enough desperation in it to match Chibs's own as he squeezes his own eyes shut while slicking the rubber down that he's not gonna hold it against him.
"Don' worry, laddie," Chibs growls softly, hoisting Juice’s hips on his lap, lining up and nudging forward, a long, slow slide in, and fuck, Juice wasn't lying, it's all easy give until he's balls-deep in tight, gripping heat, "I've got ye."
Juice makes a truly pornographic noise as Chibs bottoms out, throwing his head back. Chibs gives him - gives them - a moment, resting one hand on Juice's trembling belly, letting his thumb stroke over his navel and the hint of stubble below, smearing the drops of precome he finds there and completely avoiding Juice's cock; no sense ending things early. When Juice whines and kicks lightly at him, it's all the blessed signal he needs to pull back until the head of his dick is just barely caught inside, pausing just enough for Juice to give him a narrow-eyed look before Chibs snaps his hips forward and buries himself again, eyes closing at how bloody goddamned good it is. Juice yells, hoarse and choked-off as he bucks into the thrust, and, as Chibs picks up a hard, relentless rhythm, words follow like Juice thinks he'll never get the chance to use them again.
"Goddamn, Chibbie, fuck, so fucking good, wanted this, fucking wanted you since this morning when I saw you putting that rig on - fuck - " he breaks off, breath punching out when Chibs pulls out entirely, as much in self-preservation as anything else. He's not ready to be done yet, and hearing Juice narrate his fantasy of the day in that lust-fogged voice is bringing the finish line too close too fast.
It's absolutely nothing to do with the complex he's going to develop if the lad keeps waxing rhapsodic about his shoulder rig.
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"C'mere," Juice whispers. Chibs does, shifting to balance on his knees and elbows, hips canting a little at the low keen Juice gives him with the change in position. Chibs drops his head to find Juice's mouth with his own and kiss him deeply, less a clash for dominance than because he just needs to right then, and Juice responds eagerly, tongue tangling with Chibs's on soft, pleased noises that taper into impatience, hips grinding up as Chibs begins to rock into him again, slowly. "Can I..." he trails off, eyes flicking down to the pieces of the other half of the rig hanging between them and licking his lips.
Chibs thinks he knows what Juice is getting at, and the heat and tension that have been growing in his lower back are suddenly more urgent, making his belly go tight and his thighs shake. "Aye, laddie," he agrees unsteadily, watching raptly as Juice raises his head and catches one of the straps in his teeth before nodding at Chibs with a challenge in his eyes. Chibs grins back, and fucks into him, hard and fast, the thought of his rig permanently bearing Juice's dental imprints spurring him as much as Juice's writhing under him, his encouraging moans barely stifled by the strap.
Then he realizes Juice's bound hands are pressed to Chibs's chest now, his hands that he hasn't once moved in such a way as to put any strain on Chibs's neck whatsoever.
It's the little things, he thinks helplessly, losing his rhythm as his orgasm slams up his spine, drawing him bowstring-tight, bright lights blurring his vision as he clenches his jaw around his own too-loud cry.
He doesn't let himself linger on it as long as he'd like, distracted by Juice's squirming as he tries to bring himself over. "I've got you, laddie," he soothes, dipping his head to kiss the backs of Juice's hands, teasing a curled finger straight to take into his mouth as he wraps a hand around Juice's shaft, moaning at the weight, the feel of it pulsing in his palm. Three quick, firm strokes and a twist and Juice is making a strangled, unholy sound, his entire frame shuddering and twisting as he comes in a hot spatter over Chibs's wrist and his own stomach. Chibs sits up just enough to watch it work him over, wringing him out as he strokes him through the last of it, his other hand smoothing circles over Juice's flank to ground him.
When Juice is a pliant lump on the floor of the van, staring dazedly at the ceiling, Chibs pulls out carefully before reaching up to ease his rig strap from Juice’s teeth and unwind it from his wrists, then ducks out of the loop around his own neck to take a look at the damage. He whistles lowly when he finds the indentations from Juice’s teeth - anyone needs Juice’s dental info down the line, he’s not fucking volunteering his rig as a specimen. “Guess you liked that, eh, Juicy?” he huffs, not even trying to sound exasperated. He’d fail miserably. Juice just gives him a sloppy, shit-eating grin, and Chibs ruffles the short hair of his mohawk fondly. “C’mon, laddie, up and at ‘em, promised Piney I’d air her out.”
Juice wrinkles his nose, but sits up slowly, stretching as Chibs peels off the condom and ties it. “Really? This should be an improvement.”
“Aye, ye’d think, but he was surprisingly insistent about it.”
Juice grumbles some more, but together they manage a passable job of getting dressed and cleaning up after themselves.
If Chibs ‘forgets’ to pick up the condom in the course of opening the windows and the haphazard wipe-down, well, Juice isn’t going to be the one to point it out.
End
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Then he realizes Juice's bound hands are pressed to Chibs's chest now, his hands that he hasn't once moved in such a way as to put any strain on Chibs's neck whatsoever.
Loved this little detail. I actually loved a lot of details, but then I'd be quoting half your fic back at you. ;) Thank you so much for writing this. :)
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It'd be hilarious if Juice was basically a vanilla guy until Chibs happened.
Ahem. Sorry for the babbling! Thanks again, and I am so, so glad someone else loves that leather shirt - and the rest of Chibs's mostly-fantasticals wardrobe - as much as I do! ;D
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Chibs can turn anyone kinky. ^^ His clothes are all fantastic, I still can't believe I couldn't find much other clothes porn before this.
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And yes, yes he can. No question. I was a little, er, bent before getting into SoA, but I don't think I'm imagining that my pornier bits have gotten not only pornier, but kinkier. This... is not a complaint, other than my tendency to get idea-whammied in public. *facepalm*
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