Fic: Fratboy. Used, Dan/Jepha, NC-17.
7iris linked me to this incredibly hot Bert/Gerard/Jepha story, after eleanor_lavish and I had (yet another) conversation about Dan, Jepha, and their perfect kinky love. Furthermore, arsenicjade had just nudged me to be more self-indulgent with my fan writing. When I read excellent porn, I get this weird urge to write porn myself, and so I sent 7iris a hastily typed version of the self-indulgent stuff that EL and I had talked about. This is rewritten a bit, but it's basically still comment fic.
Fratboy
Used, Dan/Jepha, NC-17, 2300ish words
Dan's slouched just where he was when Jepha last came out to check on him. His arm is thrown in the same place on the back of the couch, and a half-empty beer bottle is still resting loosely in his other hand, the bottom braced against his thigh. There's a row of empties sitting in front of him on the coffee table, but that's the only indication that he's moved.
It's still early in the evening, but Dan's been watching basketball games since early afternoon. At first, Jepha enjoyed the relative quiet and lack of distraction. He cleaned the bedroom and the bathroom without disturbance, even got in a quiet hour with a book and a scented candle. He organized his CDs, then his books, then his music folder on his computer. Then he organized his tea collection. Then his records. Then his underwear. He had to make himself stop when he considered re-balling his socks and filing them according to color and wear patterns; not because it's too much, but because it's gotten dark outside, and he should probably rouse Dan from his stupor.
The living room is lit only by the television screen. An announcer is rattling off stats for yet another college game, but the volume is turned down low enough that it's only ambient noise. Jepha expects that Dan will be sacked out against the arm of the couch, but he's not. He's slouched just where he was when Jepha last came out to check on him. His arm is thrown in the same place on the back of the couch, a half-empty beer bottle still resting loosely in his other hand, the bottom braced against his thigh. There's a row of empties sitting in front of him on the coffee table, but that's the only indication that he's moved.
Jepha stops and considers him for a long moment, and Dan spares him a glance. "C'mere," he says quietly, and Jepha goes.
Jepha curls up under Dan's outflung arm and breathes in, smelling Old Spice and beer. Jepha presses the his face against Dan's shoulder and closes his eyes. "Do you need more beer?" he mumbles, when he hears the game switch over to commercials. Dan shakes his head. He curls his arm around Jepha's shoulder, dragging him in a little closer. Cottonelle, Budweiser, a brand new sitcom for spring, and then the game comes back on. Jepha watches, trying to follow the players as they scramble back and forth across the floor. The brassy voice of the announcer is lulling, though, and he doesn't care enough about the teams. The colors of their uniforms blur into the bright yellow gloss of the floor and the roiling masses of fans. Jepha's not quite tired enough to fall asleep -- his ears keep catching fragments of statistics and the roar when a player scores -- but he's not quite awake enough to get up and do something.
Jepha rubs his hand over Dan's stomach instead, enjoying the warmth of his belly under the t-shirt, feeling at the shape of his flesh. Dan bats his fingers away when they slide over the waistband of his jeans, and Jepha makes a soft, startled sound. "Watch the game," Dan says, his voice faintly laced with laughter.
"I wasn't doing anything," Jepha protests, but he touches the button of Dan's jeans again, lightly, and then traces the curve of his pockets. When Jepha lets the tips of his fingers drift down over Dan's thigh, then up the inseam, Dan slaps his hand down and pins Jepha's fingers before they can go any higher. "I'm not doing anything," Jepha says, trying to keep his voice sleepy. He can just see the shape of Dan's cock under the denim. He wiggles his fingers. Dan's looking down at him, now, not the game, and Jepha flushes when their eyes meet. "I'll be good," he says, a little petulant.
"No you won't," Dan says, and rolls his eyes. He lets go of Jepha's hand, though, lets him drag his fingertips up over the fly of his jeans, under the hem of his t-shirt and along the soft, warm shape of his belly. "Do you have a basketball kink?" Dan asks suddenly, and Jepha laughs.
"No."
"Is it beer? Do you like beer?" Dan tries. His breath smells like beer when he leans in, warm and a little sour. Jepha shakes his head. "What is it, then?"
"It's nothing," Jepha says, and takes his hand away. Dan leans with him when Jepha tries to pull away. He clunks his beer bottle down on the coffee table, apparently done with it and the game. He moves over Jepha and catches the underside of his knee, pushing his leg up. Jepha shudders, just a little, and Dan grins.
"It's something," Dan says. His face is sharply defined in the dim light of the television, one side thrown into higher relief, his eyes black. Jepha arches up against him and slides his fingers up over Dan's jaw, against the grain of his stubble. Dan just watches him. Jepha has to struggle up on his elbows to press their mouths together, pushing his shoulder up against his knee, but Dan kisses him back when he does. Dan's tongue moves against Jepha's teeth, around his tongue, almost gentle.
Dan lets him go when Jepha pushes at his shoulder. He lets Jepha up off of the couch, and lets him stoop and pick up the empty beer bottles without comment. Dan follows him into the kitchen, though, and lounges in the doorway while Jepha puts the empties into the recycling bin. He traps Jepha against the wall when he's done, kisses him, and then turns him around to face the wall. Jepha presses his cheek against the cool surface and rocks back into Dan's hands on his hips. "You're always bugging me during games," Dan says, soft and amused. "What do you want?" He doesn't wait for an answer, though; he's already got his hand on the fly of Jepha's jeans. Jepha helps him get the buttons open, then slides down the jeans, and kicks them off of his feet. He tilts his ass back into Dan's palms.
Dan pauses and lifts his hand away. Jepha tilts his hips back further. He expects the slap of Dan's hand against his skin, but he still whines high and startled-sounding in the back of his throat when it comes. It's a loud, sharp sound, and Jepha ducks his head, hair falling into his face.
"You bother me during the game," Dan murmurs, "you're going to get punished for it. Is that what you want?" Jepha doesn't bother answering. Dan works his fingertips into the waistband of Jepha's briefs, sliding them down over his cock and down his thighs. He leaves them there, stretched tight around Jepha's spread legs, and slaps Jepha's ass again. It's perfect, stinging and hot when he pulls his hand away. Jeph stretches his hands up over his head, wrists crossed, and arches his back. "Slut," Dan says quietly, looming up behind him, curved down so he can say it right into Jepha's ear. Jeph stares at the wall in front of him, waiting for the next sharp slap of Dan's hand. "Slut," Dan says again, affectionate. He doesn't do it right away; he smooths his palm over the curve of Jepha's ass, digs his fingers in and works at his flesh. Jepha makes a frustrated noise, and Dan chuckles.
"Fucker," Jeph says weakly, and Dan smacks him again.
"Don't talk back to me. Spread your legs," he says. Jepha snarls, silently, but he does it. Dan presses Jepha's crossed wrists against the wall, once, and says, "Wait," before he takes a step back. Jepha's back feels cold and exposed without Dan behind him. He can hear Dan moving around in the apartment, and he starts to feel ridiculous, posed against the wall with his underwear around his thighs, his jeans crumpled at his feet. Jepha can feel a hectic flush rising up his face, and he presses his burning cheek against the inside of his arm, willing himself not to look for Dan.
Dan announces himself with another slap across his ass, the other side, startling Jepha into a weak, needy noise. "You cockslut," Dan says, admiring and possessive, and Jepha works his legs further apart. He wants another slap so badly, he's almost shaking with it. He wants to beg, but he bites it back. "It's really true, isn't it," Dan continues, suddenly slick fingers easing down the crack of Jepha's ass. "You're a slut for this." He pushes two fingers in just this side of too hard, making Jepha rock up on his toes. Jepha holds back a noise, and Dan slaps his ass again with his other hand, nearly rocking Jepha off balance, making him bang his elbows against the wall to steady himself.
Dan fingers him slowly, easing his fingers in and out of Jepha's ass, spanking him at irregular intervals. Jepha starts to rock in time with his hand, hips hunching forward, desperate for friction. "Please," he says, finally, the syllable pushing past his teeth. Dan smacks his ass, once, then again. "Please, Dan."
"Slut," Dan repeats, and he still sounds proud, pleased.
"Yes," Jepha says, "I'm a slut for you, god, I just want-" He breaks off, and Dan slaps him again, then massages the sore skin of his ass. Jepha's jerking in place now, his hips twisting, the arches of his feet cramping from the tension of rocking his weight back and forth.
"What do you want?" Dan says, and stills his fingers. Jepha whines, and Dan kicks his feet farther apart, keeps his dick away from the wall. "What are you a slut for?"
"Your dick," Jepha says, feeling stupid and half-ashamed. Dan chuckles, a little, and rocks his fingers once. "I want your dick in my ass, Dan, please, I'll-- I'll do anything--"
"Shut your mouth," Dan says, and gives him a few more hard thrusts with his hand before he pulls his fingers out. "Shut your mouth, or I'll fuck it instead." Jeph tips his head back on his neck, resting the back of his head against Dan's shoulder. His mouth is open, but he doesn't talk. He just breathes, raggedly, as Dan lines up his dick and pushes up and in. "I love fucking you," Dan says, and pushes his chest up against the wall. "Fuck, you-- you're so tight." Jepha chokes out a rough noise, meaning yes and also please and more.
Dan murmurs a steady stream of filthy, horrible things to him, a litany about Jepha's tight ass, how he loves to fuck him, how slutty Jepha is to take it like this, to like it like this. Dirty talk wasn't ever Jepha's thing, not before Dan. But like this--
He's pinned against the kitchen wall with Dan hot and heavy and solid behind him, warm breath on the back of his neck, the sound of the television still in the background. Dan's cock drags in and out, a hard and steady rhythm, centering Jepha around it, making him feel what Dan wants him to feel. Dan's voice curls in Jepha's ears, and his hands handle Jepha, move Jepha's body where Dan wants it to go.
It works for him, like this.
Jepha's dick slides against the wall, and then Dan curls his hand around the head, strokes hard and steady in time with his hips. Jepha shakes, his back arched in an impossible curve. Dan says, "If you come on this wall, you'll have to lick it up," and Jepha comes with a low moan, the sound shuddering out of his chest as Dan's hips slam up against him.
Dan rocks up into him after that, hand still loosely cupped around Jepha's slowly softening dick, moving at his own pace. When he's close, Jepha squeezes his ass hard around Dan's dick, and Dan's voice shreds down to a thin whisper, just Jepha's name repeated in time with his hips.
They stand there for a second afterwards, and then Dan pulls out, pulls back and turns Jeph around. "Clean you up," he says needlessly, pulling Jepha's briefs up and helping him step into his jeans. Jepha takes over buttoning up the fly, and Dan goes -- still naked himself -- to pour himself a glass of water. He drinks it standing over the sink, refills the glass and brings it over to Jepha. "Drink the whole thing," he says, and Jepha does.
They kiss after Jepha's finished, mouths cool and slightly metallic. "So what is it?" Dan says, cupping Jepha's jaw in his palms. "What is it about me watching the game?" He doesn't let Jepha look away or duck his head, fingers strong and sure under his chin. Jepha gestures pointlessly, and then lets his hands settle on Dan's hips.
"It's the fratboy thing," Jepha says finally. "You-- you fuck me like the fratboy you used to be." Dan considers that for a moment, then nods.
"Sure, okay," he says, "You want to be the hot sorority whore sometimes." His grin is a little smug. Jepha's about to try to derail it, but when Dan says, "Maybe next time I'll put you in a skirt and sweater set," he has to suck in a breath instead. Dan doesn't push his luck, at least; they kiss again, Dan stooping down to meet him, and he doesn't mention the way Jepha's trembling.
"God, you're gorgeous," Dan says, when they break apart, and Jepha grins foolishly. Dan turns Jepha back around and pushes him gently down to his knees, and Jepha glances back over his shoulder, confused. "I told you," Dan says, "You have to lick it up."
Jepha's come is streaked on the paint, drying in thin trails. "I--" Jepha says.
"I told you," Dan says. Jepha leans forward, hesitantly, and drags his tongue up over the bottom of one smeared trail. He presses his palms against the wall, the paint cool against his skin. One of Dan's hands comes to rest in his hair, and Jepha licks again, dragging his tongue up the paint, pulling his come into his mouth with his eyes closed.
Dan doesn't go back to watching the game.
-- end --
Kink content: spanking, dirty talk, light power dynamics, established relationship with assumed conversation about kink safety.
Fratboy
Used, Dan/Jepha, NC-17, 2300ish words
Dan's slouched just where he was when Jepha last came out to check on him. His arm is thrown in the same place on the back of the couch, and a half-empty beer bottle is still resting loosely in his other hand, the bottom braced against his thigh. There's a row of empties sitting in front of him on the coffee table, but that's the only indication that he's moved.
It's still early in the evening, but Dan's been watching basketball games since early afternoon. At first, Jepha enjoyed the relative quiet and lack of distraction. He cleaned the bedroom and the bathroom without disturbance, even got in a quiet hour with a book and a scented candle. He organized his CDs, then his books, then his music folder on his computer. Then he organized his tea collection. Then his records. Then his underwear. He had to make himself stop when he considered re-balling his socks and filing them according to color and wear patterns; not because it's too much, but because it's gotten dark outside, and he should probably rouse Dan from his stupor.
The living room is lit only by the television screen. An announcer is rattling off stats for yet another college game, but the volume is turned down low enough that it's only ambient noise. Jepha expects that Dan will be sacked out against the arm of the couch, but he's not. He's slouched just where he was when Jepha last came out to check on him. His arm is thrown in the same place on the back of the couch, a half-empty beer bottle still resting loosely in his other hand, the bottom braced against his thigh. There's a row of empties sitting in front of him on the coffee table, but that's the only indication that he's moved.
Jepha stops and considers him for a long moment, and Dan spares him a glance. "C'mere," he says quietly, and Jepha goes.
Jepha curls up under Dan's outflung arm and breathes in, smelling Old Spice and beer. Jepha presses the his face against Dan's shoulder and closes his eyes. "Do you need more beer?" he mumbles, when he hears the game switch over to commercials. Dan shakes his head. He curls his arm around Jepha's shoulder, dragging him in a little closer. Cottonelle, Budweiser, a brand new sitcom for spring, and then the game comes back on. Jepha watches, trying to follow the players as they scramble back and forth across the floor. The brassy voice of the announcer is lulling, though, and he doesn't care enough about the teams. The colors of their uniforms blur into the bright yellow gloss of the floor and the roiling masses of fans. Jepha's not quite tired enough to fall asleep -- his ears keep catching fragments of statistics and the roar when a player scores -- but he's not quite awake enough to get up and do something.
Jepha rubs his hand over Dan's stomach instead, enjoying the warmth of his belly under the t-shirt, feeling at the shape of his flesh. Dan bats his fingers away when they slide over the waistband of his jeans, and Jepha makes a soft, startled sound. "Watch the game," Dan says, his voice faintly laced with laughter.
"I wasn't doing anything," Jepha protests, but he touches the button of Dan's jeans again, lightly, and then traces the curve of his pockets. When Jepha lets the tips of his fingers drift down over Dan's thigh, then up the inseam, Dan slaps his hand down and pins Jepha's fingers before they can go any higher. "I'm not doing anything," Jepha says, trying to keep his voice sleepy. He can just see the shape of Dan's cock under the denim. He wiggles his fingers. Dan's looking down at him, now, not the game, and Jepha flushes when their eyes meet. "I'll be good," he says, a little petulant.
"No you won't," Dan says, and rolls his eyes. He lets go of Jepha's hand, though, lets him drag his fingertips up over the fly of his jeans, under the hem of his t-shirt and along the soft, warm shape of his belly. "Do you have a basketball kink?" Dan asks suddenly, and Jepha laughs.
"No."
"Is it beer? Do you like beer?" Dan tries. His breath smells like beer when he leans in, warm and a little sour. Jepha shakes his head. "What is it, then?"
"It's nothing," Jepha says, and takes his hand away. Dan leans with him when Jepha tries to pull away. He clunks his beer bottle down on the coffee table, apparently done with it and the game. He moves over Jepha and catches the underside of his knee, pushing his leg up. Jepha shudders, just a little, and Dan grins.
"It's something," Dan says. His face is sharply defined in the dim light of the television, one side thrown into higher relief, his eyes black. Jepha arches up against him and slides his fingers up over Dan's jaw, against the grain of his stubble. Dan just watches him. Jepha has to struggle up on his elbows to press their mouths together, pushing his shoulder up against his knee, but Dan kisses him back when he does. Dan's tongue moves against Jepha's teeth, around his tongue, almost gentle.
Dan lets him go when Jepha pushes at his shoulder. He lets Jepha up off of the couch, and lets him stoop and pick up the empty beer bottles without comment. Dan follows him into the kitchen, though, and lounges in the doorway while Jepha puts the empties into the recycling bin. He traps Jepha against the wall when he's done, kisses him, and then turns him around to face the wall. Jepha presses his cheek against the cool surface and rocks back into Dan's hands on his hips. "You're always bugging me during games," Dan says, soft and amused. "What do you want?" He doesn't wait for an answer, though; he's already got his hand on the fly of Jepha's jeans. Jepha helps him get the buttons open, then slides down the jeans, and kicks them off of his feet. He tilts his ass back into Dan's palms.
Dan pauses and lifts his hand away. Jepha tilts his hips back further. He expects the slap of Dan's hand against his skin, but he still whines high and startled-sounding in the back of his throat when it comes. It's a loud, sharp sound, and Jepha ducks his head, hair falling into his face.
"You bother me during the game," Dan murmurs, "you're going to get punished for it. Is that what you want?" Jepha doesn't bother answering. Dan works his fingertips into the waistband of Jepha's briefs, sliding them down over his cock and down his thighs. He leaves them there, stretched tight around Jepha's spread legs, and slaps Jepha's ass again. It's perfect, stinging and hot when he pulls his hand away. Jeph stretches his hands up over his head, wrists crossed, and arches his back. "Slut," Dan says quietly, looming up behind him, curved down so he can say it right into Jepha's ear. Jeph stares at the wall in front of him, waiting for the next sharp slap of Dan's hand. "Slut," Dan says again, affectionate. He doesn't do it right away; he smooths his palm over the curve of Jepha's ass, digs his fingers in and works at his flesh. Jepha makes a frustrated noise, and Dan chuckles.
"Fucker," Jeph says weakly, and Dan smacks him again.
"Don't talk back to me. Spread your legs," he says. Jepha snarls, silently, but he does it. Dan presses Jepha's crossed wrists against the wall, once, and says, "Wait," before he takes a step back. Jepha's back feels cold and exposed without Dan behind him. He can hear Dan moving around in the apartment, and he starts to feel ridiculous, posed against the wall with his underwear around his thighs, his jeans crumpled at his feet. Jepha can feel a hectic flush rising up his face, and he presses his burning cheek against the inside of his arm, willing himself not to look for Dan.
Dan announces himself with another slap across his ass, the other side, startling Jepha into a weak, needy noise. "You cockslut," Dan says, admiring and possessive, and Jepha works his legs further apart. He wants another slap so badly, he's almost shaking with it. He wants to beg, but he bites it back. "It's really true, isn't it," Dan continues, suddenly slick fingers easing down the crack of Jepha's ass. "You're a slut for this." He pushes two fingers in just this side of too hard, making Jepha rock up on his toes. Jepha holds back a noise, and Dan slaps his ass again with his other hand, nearly rocking Jepha off balance, making him bang his elbows against the wall to steady himself.
Dan fingers him slowly, easing his fingers in and out of Jepha's ass, spanking him at irregular intervals. Jepha starts to rock in time with his hand, hips hunching forward, desperate for friction. "Please," he says, finally, the syllable pushing past his teeth. Dan smacks his ass, once, then again. "Please, Dan."
"Slut," Dan repeats, and he still sounds proud, pleased.
"Yes," Jepha says, "I'm a slut for you, god, I just want-" He breaks off, and Dan slaps him again, then massages the sore skin of his ass. Jepha's jerking in place now, his hips twisting, the arches of his feet cramping from the tension of rocking his weight back and forth.
"What do you want?" Dan says, and stills his fingers. Jepha whines, and Dan kicks his feet farther apart, keeps his dick away from the wall. "What are you a slut for?"
"Your dick," Jepha says, feeling stupid and half-ashamed. Dan chuckles, a little, and rocks his fingers once. "I want your dick in my ass, Dan, please, I'll-- I'll do anything--"
"Shut your mouth," Dan says, and gives him a few more hard thrusts with his hand before he pulls his fingers out. "Shut your mouth, or I'll fuck it instead." Jeph tips his head back on his neck, resting the back of his head against Dan's shoulder. His mouth is open, but he doesn't talk. He just breathes, raggedly, as Dan lines up his dick and pushes up and in. "I love fucking you," Dan says, and pushes his chest up against the wall. "Fuck, you-- you're so tight." Jepha chokes out a rough noise, meaning yes and also please and more.
Dan murmurs a steady stream of filthy, horrible things to him, a litany about Jepha's tight ass, how he loves to fuck him, how slutty Jepha is to take it like this, to like it like this. Dirty talk wasn't ever Jepha's thing, not before Dan. But like this--
He's pinned against the kitchen wall with Dan hot and heavy and solid behind him, warm breath on the back of his neck, the sound of the television still in the background. Dan's cock drags in and out, a hard and steady rhythm, centering Jepha around it, making him feel what Dan wants him to feel. Dan's voice curls in Jepha's ears, and his hands handle Jepha, move Jepha's body where Dan wants it to go.
It works for him, like this.
Jepha's dick slides against the wall, and then Dan curls his hand around the head, strokes hard and steady in time with his hips. Jepha shakes, his back arched in an impossible curve. Dan says, "If you come on this wall, you'll have to lick it up," and Jepha comes with a low moan, the sound shuddering out of his chest as Dan's hips slam up against him.
Dan rocks up into him after that, hand still loosely cupped around Jepha's slowly softening dick, moving at his own pace. When he's close, Jepha squeezes his ass hard around Dan's dick, and Dan's voice shreds down to a thin whisper, just Jepha's name repeated in time with his hips.
They stand there for a second afterwards, and then Dan pulls out, pulls back and turns Jeph around. "Clean you up," he says needlessly, pulling Jepha's briefs up and helping him step into his jeans. Jepha takes over buttoning up the fly, and Dan goes -- still naked himself -- to pour himself a glass of water. He drinks it standing over the sink, refills the glass and brings it over to Jepha. "Drink the whole thing," he says, and Jepha does.
They kiss after Jepha's finished, mouths cool and slightly metallic. "So what is it?" Dan says, cupping Jepha's jaw in his palms. "What is it about me watching the game?" He doesn't let Jepha look away or duck his head, fingers strong and sure under his chin. Jepha gestures pointlessly, and then lets his hands settle on Dan's hips.
"It's the fratboy thing," Jepha says finally. "You-- you fuck me like the fratboy you used to be." Dan considers that for a moment, then nods.
"Sure, okay," he says, "You want to be the hot sorority whore sometimes." His grin is a little smug. Jepha's about to try to derail it, but when Dan says, "Maybe next time I'll put you in a skirt and sweater set," he has to suck in a breath instead. Dan doesn't push his luck, at least; they kiss again, Dan stooping down to meet him, and he doesn't mention the way Jepha's trembling.
"God, you're gorgeous," Dan says, when they break apart, and Jepha grins foolishly. Dan turns Jepha back around and pushes him gently down to his knees, and Jepha glances back over his shoulder, confused. "I told you," Dan says, "You have to lick it up."
Jepha's come is streaked on the paint, drying in thin trails. "I--" Jepha says.
"I told you," Dan says. Jepha leans forward, hesitantly, and drags his tongue up over the bottom of one smeared trail. He presses his palms against the wall, the paint cool against his skin. One of Dan's hands comes to rest in his hair, and Jepha licks again, dragging his tongue up the paint, pulling his come into his mouth with his eyes closed.
Dan doesn't go back to watching the game.
-- end --
Kink content: spanking, dirty talk, light power dynamics, established relationship with assumed conversation about kink safety.