FIC: Baby You Can (Jon/Brendon, NC 17, 800 words)
Here, have the snippet of porn I wrote on Christmas Eve. :D And yes, the title is punning exactly what you think it is.
Title:Baby You Can
Author: Claire
Pairing: Jon/Brendon
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~800
Notes: Thanks to Kat for looking this over for me.
Summary: Poor impulse control combined with acute observance of road safety makes for fun times?
* * *
"I want to come on your face," Brendon says thoughtfully.
"Oh my god," Jon says, and pulls over. "Brendon. Do not do that to me while I am driving, okay? Do we have to have that talk about distractions again? Because I'm pretty sure that if we get killed before you can come on my face we will both be deeply, deeply sad about it."
"So you're up for it," Brendon says, tapping his fingers on the dash. "Awesome."
"Brendon!" Jon says, horribly aware that his heart is still pounding double-time and that he's spiking adrenaline like a crazy person. "Missing the point!"
"Oh come on," Brendon says, with a tiny grin. "There was no one else around, we're on your street, don't be such a grandmother."
"Would you say that to your grandmother?" Jon says sternly, and then they both blanche, and Jon feels his upper lip curling because, seriously. Ewwww.
"Ewww," Brendon says, definitely looking grossed out. "Do not talk about my grandmother when I am trying to hit on you with sexy talk. Please. Talk about killing my fucking boner."
Jon scrubs his hand over his face and drops it onto the steering wheel for a second, narrowly avoiding hitting the horn. Why me, he thinks.
"We're going to my mom and dad's for dinner and you have a boner?" he asks, not even remotely shrill. He can be responsible and reasonable.
"Um," Brendon says, which is not an answer. "I was just... thinking. And."
"And boners happened?" Jon asks, a little defeatedly.
"Well, one boner," Brendon says, looking speculatively into Jon's lap. "Unless there's something you'd like to tell me, and by tell me I mean, turn around, let's go back to bed and then we'll be a bit late for dinner."
"If we have sex again we'll have to shower, again, and then we will not be late, we will miss dinner."
"But on the bright side, sex!"
"You're impossible," Jon groans.
"Impossibly hot," Brendon replies, sing-song.
"It's not cute when you do that," Jon informs him. Jon might be lying, but Brendon doesn't need to be encouraged.
"Come on," Brendon says, snapping his seatbelt undone and trying to slither gracefully over the center console to press himself up against Jon. "We could just do it right here?"
"Do what," Jon asks, trying to send frantic, lightspeed delivery messages to his dick about how this is not happening, thank you very much, and everyone down there needs to sit the fuck down and think about cold showers.
"We could fuck," Brendon says, grinning, slow and warm and easy, and shit, Jon is tempted. Tempted, but not stupid.
"Yeah, if you want to wind up half-crippled," he says practically. "Come on, if you're going to be this impossible without an orgasm every half an hour I'll just jerk you off now. I don't care how tiny a human you are, you cannot get into my lap in this car. It's a compact, Bden. Not even you bend that way."
Brendon looks interested - because, hey, orgasms! - but then suspicious.
"And what do you get out of that, huh?"
Jon lets a little of the heat that's building below his belt bleed into his expression - and god help him, he's going to see his mother in like a half an hour, clearly she's going to conclude that rock and roll has finally corrupted him entirely.
"Then when my parents are upstairs after dinner we're going to go hang out in the basement and watch tv."
Brendon raises an eyebrow, gestures for Jon to go on. They both know his plan doesn't end with reruns of fucking Two and a Half Men.
"And then you're going to ride me until you can't think straight, and before you come I'm gonna pull out and go down on you, and then when you're begging for it, I'm going to just lie back and watch you jerk it until you come. On me," he adds, unnecessarily. Jon is actually pretty proud of himself for keeping his voice level, light and easy the whole way through that sentence, despite the way he's well on his way to a boner as bad as Brendon's, his balls drawing up tight with want. Shit, maybe he doesn't want to wait till after dinner.
"Deal," Brendon says, and unzips his pants.
Jon double-checks the doors are locked and then ducks over to suck Brendon's cock into his mouth. Hey, he is bendy enough after all, and he said handjob, so really, Brendon doesn't really have a leg to stand on if Jon wants to improve the terms of their deal.
Brendon just winds his fingers into Jon's hair and lets Jon dictate their speed.
This entry also posted at dreamwidth.
comments/ view comments at dreamwidth.
Title:Baby You Can
Author: Claire
Pairing: Jon/Brendon
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~800
Notes: Thanks to Kat for looking this over for me.
Summary: Poor impulse control combined with acute observance of road safety makes for fun times?
* * *
"I want to come on your face," Brendon says thoughtfully.
"Oh my god," Jon says, and pulls over. "Brendon. Do not do that to me while I am driving, okay? Do we have to have that talk about distractions again? Because I'm pretty sure that if we get killed before you can come on my face we will both be deeply, deeply sad about it."
"So you're up for it," Brendon says, tapping his fingers on the dash. "Awesome."
"Brendon!" Jon says, horribly aware that his heart is still pounding double-time and that he's spiking adrenaline like a crazy person. "Missing the point!"
"Oh come on," Brendon says, with a tiny grin. "There was no one else around, we're on your street, don't be such a grandmother."
"Would you say that to your grandmother?" Jon says sternly, and then they both blanche, and Jon feels his upper lip curling because, seriously. Ewwww.
"Ewww," Brendon says, definitely looking grossed out. "Do not talk about my grandmother when I am trying to hit on you with sexy talk. Please. Talk about killing my fucking boner."
Jon scrubs his hand over his face and drops it onto the steering wheel for a second, narrowly avoiding hitting the horn. Why me, he thinks.
"We're going to my mom and dad's for dinner and you have a boner?" he asks, not even remotely shrill. He can be responsible and reasonable.
"Um," Brendon says, which is not an answer. "I was just... thinking. And."
"And boners happened?" Jon asks, a little defeatedly.
"Well, one boner," Brendon says, looking speculatively into Jon's lap. "Unless there's something you'd like to tell me, and by tell me I mean, turn around, let's go back to bed and then we'll be a bit late for dinner."
"If we have sex again we'll have to shower, again, and then we will not be late, we will miss dinner."
"But on the bright side, sex!"
"You're impossible," Jon groans.
"Impossibly hot," Brendon replies, sing-song.
"It's not cute when you do that," Jon informs him. Jon might be lying, but Brendon doesn't need to be encouraged.
"Come on," Brendon says, snapping his seatbelt undone and trying to slither gracefully over the center console to press himself up against Jon. "We could just do it right here?"
"Do what," Jon asks, trying to send frantic, lightspeed delivery messages to his dick about how this is not happening, thank you very much, and everyone down there needs to sit the fuck down and think about cold showers.
"We could fuck," Brendon says, grinning, slow and warm and easy, and shit, Jon is tempted. Tempted, but not stupid.
"Yeah, if you want to wind up half-crippled," he says practically. "Come on, if you're going to be this impossible without an orgasm every half an hour I'll just jerk you off now. I don't care how tiny a human you are, you cannot get into my lap in this car. It's a compact, Bden. Not even you bend that way."
Brendon looks interested - because, hey, orgasms! - but then suspicious.
"And what do you get out of that, huh?"
Jon lets a little of the heat that's building below his belt bleed into his expression - and god help him, he's going to see his mother in like a half an hour, clearly she's going to conclude that rock and roll has finally corrupted him entirely.
"Then when my parents are upstairs after dinner we're going to go hang out in the basement and watch tv."
Brendon raises an eyebrow, gestures for Jon to go on. They both know his plan doesn't end with reruns of fucking Two and a Half Men.
"And then you're going to ride me until you can't think straight, and before you come I'm gonna pull out and go down on you, and then when you're begging for it, I'm going to just lie back and watch you jerk it until you come. On me," he adds, unnecessarily. Jon is actually pretty proud of himself for keeping his voice level, light and easy the whole way through that sentence, despite the way he's well on his way to a boner as bad as Brendon's, his balls drawing up tight with want. Shit, maybe he doesn't want to wait till after dinner.
"Deal," Brendon says, and unzips his pants.
Jon double-checks the doors are locked and then ducks over to suck Brendon's cock into his mouth. Hey, he is bendy enough after all, and he said handjob, so really, Brendon doesn't really have a leg to stand on if Jon wants to improve the terms of their deal.
Brendon just winds his fingers into Jon's hair and lets Jon dictate their speed.
This entry also posted at dreamwidth.
comments/ view comments at dreamwidth.