Leather (Pt. 1) - C/Z, NC-17
.
Remember that picture on my desktop? Well, funny thing about that...
Leather (Pt. 1)
by Serai
The pale sunlight limns the skin of Zeke’s shoulders as he pulls the jacket on, and Casey smiles. The skin of one animal on the skin of another - his hands start clenching lightly, wanting to feel it. The rough denim of Zeke’s ratty black jeans runs under his palms as he slides his hands around the narrow waistband, then up under leather warming over the hot skin. Casey presses his face into the supple expanse of back. God, he loves that smell already, he’s always going to love that smell. It’ll always make him think of the body in his arms, the muscles tightening under his fingers as he slides his hand into the warm dark. He finds his dick tilted over to the left as always, straightening into his hand. Zeke lays his head back and moans as that hand gives him a long squeeze and pull, then lets go. Casey moves around so they face each other, and his arms press tight against the skin of Zeke’s back.
“God,” he whispers, “you’re so fucking hot right now.” He licks a long line up Zeke’s bare chest, then nuzzles to the side under the jacket’s zipper, taking a deep breath. His lover’s hands are roaming over him, moving down to cup his ass and squeeze. Casey groans and grabs for the collar to pull Zeke down to his mouth. They grind together, their breaths loud. Casey breaks the kiss, and licks at his neck. “I didn’t know you had one of these,” he gasps.
“I don’t,” comes the answer, breathless. “It’s not mine. It belongs to my dad - my real dad, I mean.”
“Oh.” Casey lets that go after a moment. He’s much too hungry for the taste of Zeke’s flesh; for the smell drifting out, skin and sweat and tanned hide mingling lusciously; for the sight of him sprawled, hard, wrapped in that dark, prehistoric fabric. He pushes him back towards the bed. He just wants him, wants to come looking at his dark-gazed, leather-skinned lover, wants to hear that voice doing what it does when the body it’s attached to thrusts and jerks and shudders. “Come on,” he breathes, and shoves Zeke down onto the bed, then straddles him, pushing him onto his back.
Zeke laughs, then moves up onto his elbows. “I take it you approve?” he asks, his gaze moving slowly down to Casey’s groin, then back up. He bucks up lazily and licks his lower lip. Casey closes his eyes and groans, “Oh fuck yeah.” Another slow, sharp push upward. “Then c’mere,” strong hands on his waist pulling, “so I can blow you.”
-----+++-----
Mom likes to call me a contradiction, but I’m nothing compared to what I’m touching here. How is he that pathetic little geek and at the same time this thing I want to fuck every time I see it? Skin that looks like ice but blushes into a sweat when I touch it. His mouth opens and his dick’s ready to play. Still surprises me how much I like the taste of it. The things he can do to me.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
-----+++-----
Zeke runs his fingers deep along the crack of Casey’s ass as he sucks, as he uses his tongue to get those sharp little cries he feeds on. Casey arches his back and god, he’s loud, yes. Groans and whimpers and Zeke just gets harder, wanting to feel those cries from the inside. He reaches blindly and finds Casey’s mouth, slipping fingers in to stroke his tongue. Lips close around his fingers, wet suction. It’s suddenly not enough, and he pulls away. Jesus, his hands are shaking.
“Help me out here, Case,” he gasps. Wide-eyed and desperate, Casey undoes Zeke’s jeans and pulls them down, freeing his hips and thighs. Oh, he’s hard, so hard, Casey grips him and he yells. He stops Casey with a hand on his wrist, and grits his teeth. Wait, just wait, riding it, riding it, not yet, not yet. It finally clears and he dives for Casey’s mouth. They clutch each other and roll, Zeke ending up underneath. He breaks the kiss, licks at his lover’s lips. “I take it you want me to keep these on?” He grins.
“Yes,” Casey answers, “God, yes, please.” He runs his hands down Zeke’s chest, then around to his back. “God, god, fucking god, god of leather, yes, keep them on.”
Zeke nuzzles at his mouth and then invades it again. So fucking delicious. “Well, I want you naked,” and he laughs at Casey’s sudden squirming moan. “So strip. Now.” He lies back with an arm behind his head, watching as Casey kneels up. The pale hands pull the ugly boxy t-shirt up over his head, and Zeke is knocked out again by the strength in Casey’s chest, shoulders and arms. Wiry but strong, nothing skinny or weak about him at all. The real contradiction. He realizes he’s licking his lips reflexively, Casey’s staring at his mouth.
“Stop that,” the boy murmurs, “I’m going to come just looking at you.” He’s pushing his jeans down off his thighs much too slow for Zeke’s liking. He shoves Casey back down onto the mattress, and yanks them down off his legs in one long tug. Zeke runs his fingers over the smooth skin, so hot to the touch, grips Casey’s hips and pulls him close.
“No,” he promises, “you’re going to do that in my mouth.” In one movement, he sucks Casey’s dick in deep, then moves his tongue along it, relishing the strangled cry he’s forced out of him. Casey clutches at Zeke's shoulders for a moment, then moves himself around to bring his mouth into position.
It takes a good long while. Neither of them are in any hurry, and they rock their bodies together, thrusting hard aching into wet mouths, sweat salting the taste of sliding skin and the hot feel of blood coursing just underneath it. Casey’s hands roam, feeling the rough hardness of crumpled denim behind his head and the supple invitation of leather at his abdomen, the smell, god the smell. The utter, hypnotic slide of that mouth on him, wet and tight and oh, it knows exactly what he wants.
Zeke shudders, so close, so fucking close. With one hand he grips Casey’s head and then thrusts hard, and he gets off to the feel of Casey’s desperate whimper as his mouth fills with his lover’s come. He presses in harder, shaking, as his own mouth is reamed by Casey’s fast, reacting thrusts. His last harsh grunt pushes the boy over the edge, and Zeke’s flooded in his turn. Mine, mine, you’re mine, repeats endlessly in his head as he licks and swallows, lets go, gasps as Casey releases him. He rolls onto his back, breathing deep as the sweat cools on his skin, and a slow smile settles his mouth at Casey’s breathless, sated voice.
“So fucking hot.”
Chapter 23 of High Contrast
Chapter 24
Remember that picture on my desktop? Well, funny thing about that...
Leather (Pt. 1)
by Serai
The pale sunlight limns the skin of Zeke’s shoulders as he pulls the jacket on, and Casey smiles. The skin of one animal on the skin of another - his hands start clenching lightly, wanting to feel it. The rough denim of Zeke’s ratty black jeans runs under his palms as he slides his hands around the narrow waistband, then up under leather warming over the hot skin. Casey presses his face into the supple expanse of back. God, he loves that smell already, he’s always going to love that smell. It’ll always make him think of the body in his arms, the muscles tightening under his fingers as he slides his hand into the warm dark. He finds his dick tilted over to the left as always, straightening into his hand. Zeke lays his head back and moans as that hand gives him a long squeeze and pull, then lets go. Casey moves around so they face each other, and his arms press tight against the skin of Zeke’s back.
“God,” he whispers, “you’re so fucking hot right now.” He licks a long line up Zeke’s bare chest, then nuzzles to the side under the jacket’s zipper, taking a deep breath. His lover’s hands are roaming over him, moving down to cup his ass and squeeze. Casey groans and grabs for the collar to pull Zeke down to his mouth. They grind together, their breaths loud. Casey breaks the kiss, and licks at his neck. “I didn’t know you had one of these,” he gasps.
“I don’t,” comes the answer, breathless. “It’s not mine. It belongs to my dad - my real dad, I mean.”
“Oh.” Casey lets that go after a moment. He’s much too hungry for the taste of Zeke’s flesh; for the smell drifting out, skin and sweat and tanned hide mingling lusciously; for the sight of him sprawled, hard, wrapped in that dark, prehistoric fabric. He pushes him back towards the bed. He just wants him, wants to come looking at his dark-gazed, leather-skinned lover, wants to hear that voice doing what it does when the body it’s attached to thrusts and jerks and shudders. “Come on,” he breathes, and shoves Zeke down onto the bed, then straddles him, pushing him onto his back.
Zeke laughs, then moves up onto his elbows. “I take it you approve?” he asks, his gaze moving slowly down to Casey’s groin, then back up. He bucks up lazily and licks his lower lip. Casey closes his eyes and groans, “Oh fuck yeah.” Another slow, sharp push upward. “Then c’mere,” strong hands on his waist pulling, “so I can blow you.”
-----+++-----
Mom likes to call me a contradiction, but I’m nothing compared to what I’m touching here. How is he that pathetic little geek and at the same time this thing I want to fuck every time I see it? Skin that looks like ice but blushes into a sweat when I touch it. His mouth opens and his dick’s ready to play. Still surprises me how much I like the taste of it. The things he can do to me.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
-----+++-----
Zeke runs his fingers deep along the crack of Casey’s ass as he sucks, as he uses his tongue to get those sharp little cries he feeds on. Casey arches his back and god, he’s loud, yes. Groans and whimpers and Zeke just gets harder, wanting to feel those cries from the inside. He reaches blindly and finds Casey’s mouth, slipping fingers in to stroke his tongue. Lips close around his fingers, wet suction. It’s suddenly not enough, and he pulls away. Jesus, his hands are shaking.
“Help me out here, Case,” he gasps. Wide-eyed and desperate, Casey undoes Zeke’s jeans and pulls them down, freeing his hips and thighs. Oh, he’s hard, so hard, Casey grips him and he yells. He stops Casey with a hand on his wrist, and grits his teeth. Wait, just wait, riding it, riding it, not yet, not yet. It finally clears and he dives for Casey’s mouth. They clutch each other and roll, Zeke ending up underneath. He breaks the kiss, licks at his lover’s lips. “I take it you want me to keep these on?” He grins.
“Yes,” Casey answers, “God, yes, please.” He runs his hands down Zeke’s chest, then around to his back. “God, god, fucking god, god of leather, yes, keep them on.”
Zeke nuzzles at his mouth and then invades it again. So fucking delicious. “Well, I want you naked,” and he laughs at Casey’s sudden squirming moan. “So strip. Now.” He lies back with an arm behind his head, watching as Casey kneels up. The pale hands pull the ugly boxy t-shirt up over his head, and Zeke is knocked out again by the strength in Casey’s chest, shoulders and arms. Wiry but strong, nothing skinny or weak about him at all. The real contradiction. He realizes he’s licking his lips reflexively, Casey’s staring at his mouth.
“Stop that,” the boy murmurs, “I’m going to come just looking at you.” He’s pushing his jeans down off his thighs much too slow for Zeke’s liking. He shoves Casey back down onto the mattress, and yanks them down off his legs in one long tug. Zeke runs his fingers over the smooth skin, so hot to the touch, grips Casey’s hips and pulls him close.
“No,” he promises, “you’re going to do that in my mouth.” In one movement, he sucks Casey’s dick in deep, then moves his tongue along it, relishing the strangled cry he’s forced out of him. Casey clutches at Zeke's shoulders for a moment, then moves himself around to bring his mouth into position.
It takes a good long while. Neither of them are in any hurry, and they rock their bodies together, thrusting hard aching into wet mouths, sweat salting the taste of sliding skin and the hot feel of blood coursing just underneath it. Casey’s hands roam, feeling the rough hardness of crumpled denim behind his head and the supple invitation of leather at his abdomen, the smell, god the smell. The utter, hypnotic slide of that mouth on him, wet and tight and oh, it knows exactly what he wants.
Zeke shudders, so close, so fucking close. With one hand he grips Casey’s head and then thrusts hard, and he gets off to the feel of Casey’s desperate whimper as his mouth fills with his lover’s come. He presses in harder, shaking, as his own mouth is reamed by Casey’s fast, reacting thrusts. His last harsh grunt pushes the boy over the edge, and Zeke’s flooded in his turn. Mine, mine, you’re mine, repeats endlessly in his head as he licks and swallows, lets go, gasps as Casey releases him. He rolls onto his back, breathing deep as the sweat cools on his skin, and a slow smile settles his mouth at Casey’s breathless, sated voice.
“So fucking hot.”
Chapter 23 of High Contrast
Chapter 24