PORN* FOR GREAT JUSTICE.
SO AS WE ALL KNOW, STEPHEN COLBERT WAS HORRIBLY ROBBED OF THREE (FOUR, REALLY) AWARDS THAT WERE RIGHTFULLY HIS, AND SO SEVERAL OTHERS AND I HAVE DECIDED THAT IT IS OUR SOLEMN DUTY TO GET THE POOR DEAR FICTITIOUSLY LAID A WHOLE BUNCH, YAY.
BASICALLY, THIS FUNCTIONS LIKE A KINK MEME.
THE ONLY REQUIREMENT IS THAT YOUR FIC MUST FEATURE STEPHEN COLBERT ( Read more... )
BASICALLY, THIS FUNCTIONS LIKE A KINK MEME.
THE ONLY REQUIREMENT IS THAT YOUR FIC MUST FEATURE STEPHEN COLBERT ( Read more... )
Stephen is sitting at a table by the window. His jacket is over the back of the chair and his tie is undone, hanging lopsidedly around his neck, his shirt collar open and his hair ruffled out of place.
“Hey,” Jon says quietly, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Hey, Jon,” Stephen says, meeting Jon’s eyes briefly. Jon lets out a little breath.
“D’you think maybe I could borrow him for an hour?” Jon asks, tilting his head toward Evie. Evie holds Jon’s eyes for a long moment before nodding slowly.
Permission given.
“I’ll keep Tracey company,” Evie says and Jon nods. Evie crosses the room and bends over Stephen, pressing a long kiss to his forehead.
“Be good,” she says quietly, against his hair. Stephen nods and Evie makes a quiet exit.
“You didn’t have to come,” Stephen says, picking at an open shirt cuff.
“Yeah, I did,” Jon says, moving across the room to sit next to Stephen. “Steve was worried about you.”
“Only Steve?” Stephen raises an eyebrow at the table.
“Ed, too,” Jon shrugs. “My correspondents. Your writers. Chuck and Jimmy. My writers -”
“Very funny,” Stephen says, shaking his head. Jon covers one of Stephen’s hands with his.
“Me,” Jon says and Stephen finally looks up at him properly. He looks wrecked and tired and Jon hates to think that he’s responsible. If he could buy all the Emmys in the world for Stephen, he would.
Stephen leans in and kisses him, lips warm against Jon’s, and Jon tastes whiskey and beer. Jon tightens his hand on Stephen’s and raises his other to Stephen’s hair, threading through too short strands. Stephen lays a hand on Jon’s neck and strokes his jaw line with a thumb and Jon opens his mouth to Stephen. Stephen makes a soft sound against Jon’s lips, tongue sweeping out and in and Jon shifts forward on his seat.
“I sort of want to hate you right now,” Stephen says when he pulls back, half a smile on his lips.
“I don’t blame you,” Jon says, rubbing circles into Stephen’s scalp with his hand. “Give me a chance to make it up to you?”
“I know you’re a clever man, Jon,” Stephen says, looking Jon up and down once. “But I’m pretty sure you haven’t figured out a way to hide an Emmy in that tux.”
Jon giggles, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of Stephen’s hand. He meets Stephen’s eyes again and catches the heat there.
“Are you waiting for permission?” Stephen arches his eyebrow. Jon grins.
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“I - I like the way you think,” Stephen says, reaching a hand out to brush through Jon’s hair.
“Yeah,” Jon says, smiling. “Thought you might.”
He makes short work of Stephen’s zip and with a little help from Stephen eases his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock. Jon runs a hand meditatively up Stephen’s cock, tracing a circle around the head with his thumb, and Stephen turns to liquid in the chair.
Jon smiles and presses a kiss against the inside of Stephen’s thigh before stretching up to take Stephen’s cock into his mouth. Stephen hisses and flexes his hand in Jon’s hair. Jon eases down as far as he can, flattening his tongue and making up the shortfall with his hand.
Jon’s good at this - has gotten good at this for Stephen - and it doesn’t take him long to get Stephen arching in the chair, thrusting up into Jon’s mouth. Jon holds Stephen’s eyes, knows that’s important to Stephen, and feels Stephen’s thighs tensing on either side of him.
Jon slides up, tonguing the head, and works a hand between Stephen’s legs to cup his balls.
“Fuck, Jon,” Stephen breathes, fingers flexing in Jon’s hair again. “I’m not gonna -”
Jon knows that Stephen’s not going to last long, intends him not to last long, speeds his movements, adding in a particular flair that makes Stephen shudder from head to toe. Jon feels Stephen tense all over and eases up, focusing on the head of Stephen’s cock, and with an exhaled Jon Stephen’s coming, holding Jon in place while Jon swallows.
“Holy fucking shit,” Stephen mumbles. “God. Fuck. I’m losing more often.”
Jon laughs as he pulls off, stroking a few more times to carry Stephen through. Stephen reaches a hand out and wipes the corner of Jon’s mouth, a curiously intimate movement that makes Jon shiver, and Jon slowly stands.
“Always glad to be of service,” he says, patting Stephen’s shoulder and exchanging a grin.
Jon’s stretching the fresh kink out of his back when Stephen tackles him onto the bed, leaning in to kiss him firmly and Jon’s certain Stephen can taste himself in Jon’s mouth.
“Hey,” Jon says as Stephen rubs a hand over his cock through his pants. “This isn’t supposed to be about me.”
“You want to make me happy?” Stephen asks, pressing a kiss under Jon’s jaw. Jon shivers.
“Always,” he says, turning his head to kiss Stephen’s temple.
“Then let me return the favour,” Stephen says, pulling Jon’s collar open and trailing a finger over his collarbone.
“Anything you want,” Jon says, arching his hips up into the delicious friction Stephen’s providing.
“Good,” Stephen kisses Jon again, smiling. “Thanks for wearing a tux, by the way.”
“It’s turned out to be totally worth it,” Jon admits. Stephen laughs again, burying his forehead against Jon’s shoulder.
Stephen doesn’t look so wrecked any more, hovering over Jon’s hips and smiling, and Jon unfurls a tiny Mission Accomplished banner in his mind.
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HEART THIS, DARLING.
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IRONY
OR SOMETHING.
HEART YOU FOR HEARTING IT, DARLIN'
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But go Jon, being sweet to his Stephen. <3
(Btw -- is this part of the Sleepover verse?)
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IT SOUNDS LIKE GIGGLES
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:D
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LEAVING ME OUT IN THE COLD
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LIKE, IDK, YOU'RE MOSTLY ASLEEP?
WE JUST TO SURPRISE YOU SOMETIMES, DARLIN'!
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FOR THE TIME BEING
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