FIC: Peachy Keen (Tennant/Simm, NC-17)
Title: Peachy Keen
Author: snowgrouse
Pairing: David Tennant/John Simm
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers/Warnings: Insta-fic, gratuitous PWP, rimming
Length: ~3366 words
Summary: There were plenty of good reasons for John to come back. David is one of them.
A/N: Written for a prompt on sizeofthatthing. The original prompt was "John is David's Master", but this turned out rather friendly and not very Masterly or BDSMy, although there are hints of rougher encounters. Contains peaches and cream. Sort of. Thanks to whoever prompted it, and versaphile for a quick beta.
Disclaimer: As far as I know, this didn't happen, nor am I pretending it did. It's pure fantasy, meant for quick unfs and lols.
This is not why he came back, John thinks lazily, smiling as he leans back and switches off the telly. There were plenty of good reasons to come back, and none of them technically involved crashing on a sofa in Cardiff with David's head slumped in his lap.
David, half-asleep, mumbles something John can't make out, but it's possibly something to do with whichever stuntman played the somersaulting Sea Devil again, which toupee Delgado was wearing at the time and how the Tenth Doctor could "totally kick Pertwee's arse".
When David turns his head and smiles up at him, eyes bleary and hair wild, John knows he's not fooling anyone. Yeah. That smile is what he came back for. He's missed the way it makes him respond automatically, makes him smile in turn and relax. And he does that so rarely these days, relaxing. It's only been a few days on set and he's noticed he's already smiling more, laughing more. And that's a good thing indeed. He cups David's cheek, David's stubble rough and prickly against his palm. "You should go to bed."
David makes a complaining noise, closes his eyes and presses into John's hand. "Not yet." He tries to stifle a yawn, but fails, and stretches on the sofa, the quilt sliding off his legs as he curls up closer to John. He squirms a little, waggling his eyebrows, drawling. "The night is still young."
John smiles and bites his lip. "It's eleven P.M.--"
"--which means we've got plenty of time." David gets up and straddles John's lap, still in his underpants and still sore from their last tumble, going by the little wince he makes as he wriggles close.
John shakes his head. "Are you always this insatiable?" he asks as he sinks his fingers into David's hair, pulling him down into a soft kiss.
David pushes John's shoulders into the sofa and murmurs into his mouth. "It's your fault. You're the one who insists on being so fuckable."
John pauses, making a mock-thinky face. "Yeah... I think I can live with that. Hey! Stop it!" John squirms as David tickles him, tickles and it's ridiculous and John can't hold back giggles as he twists and grabs and pushes to get away. Mercilessly, David dances his fingers down John's ribs and sides, squeaking loudly as John tries to tickle him back. "That's what you get for being--" David gulps in air amidst his giggles--"a smug git"--
"Oi!" John manages to grab David's arms, pinning them to his sides. A bit of restraint, oh, David likes that. There are small bruises forming on his arms from last night, right there above his elbows, where John had buckled him up tight. John lightens his grip, turning it into a caress. "Hope I didn't hurt you too much." He still can't decide if using luggage straps for bondage was ingenious or insane; possibly a bit of both.
David grins and wiggles in John's lap. "Nah, you didn't hurt me. No more than I wanted you to, anyway."
John moves his hands to David's arse, grabbing and pinching. "Be that as it may... no whips and chains tonight. I'm tired."
David, ever hopeful, slides his hands inside John's t-shirt. "Tomorrow, then?"
"Mm hmm." John smacks David's arse and narrows his eyes a little--oh, yes, David catches on immediately, swallowing, catching his breath. John licks his lips and lowers his voice into a rumble, shifting it a little more towards RP. "Tell me, David..." John dips his fingers inside David's pants and watches David's eyes widen. "Just how much did you miss me?" He slides his hands across David's buttocks and he can feel goosebumps. Fucking perfect.
David stills, serious for a moment. "I missed you very much." He slides down onto the floor, to rest between John's knees. "I assume this is where you want me to show you?"
John leans back and spreads his legs, trying to keep from cracking up. "You're learning, my--"
"--if you say 'my dear Doctor', I'm going to bite something off."
John pouts. "It was going to be 'my young padawan'. Besides, I thought I was your favourite supervillain. The most evil man in the universe. The most magnificient bastard ever created."
David laughs against John's thighs. "Trust me, you are. Especially the bastard bit." He kisses higher, nuzzling where thigh meets hip. "And my favourite. There. Does that satisfy your ego?"
"Mmm." John thrusts his hips up. "I think I need a little more convincing," he says as David helps him squirm out of his clothes. Oh, that's impressive--he can still manage quite an erection after a shag in the trailer and a blowjob in the lift. But only when David wraps his hand around his cock does he realise how sore he really is. "Careful," he hisses, and David softens his touch, slows down.
"Like this?" David strokes him lightly, barely touching, letting John's cock swell in his hand and presses soft, wet kisses on the head. John wants to just close his eyes and lean back, because it's perfect, so perfect, so slow and so sweet. But he can't. Not with David looking up at him like that, not with just arousal but such care, such genuine affection. How little David needs to do to make him grow still like this, to make his voice catch in his throat when he finally speaks. "Yeah."
"Mmm." It's David who closes his eyes now, leaning down to take John into his mouth, and the way he looks, god. John gently pushes David's hair out of the way to watch, and it's David's focus, David's intensity that gets him, always does. He's always in awe of how David puts so much of himself into whatever he does, holding nothing back, and this is no exception. This could be a quick blowjob as a part of a meaningless fling. It could be David doing this just to get his cock sucked in turn. But it's not. He sucks and tastes John like he means it, like he wants to taste him in his mouth for days. And that makes John shiver and swallow, tighten his fist in David's hair.
He knows he could stop the tenderness now, escape it if he wanted to. He could snarl out a few villainous lines and just turn it into a friendly, cheeky fuck and nothing more. He could snap his hips up, cram his cock down David's throat and then come all over his face. God knows they've done it before, god knows that's what it started out as. But he can't. And then he can't think any more, because David is pushing up his legs and bending him in half and his tongue is on John's arse and fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
"You dirty sod," John chokes out. David just chuckles into his arse, lapping at it, looking up as if he can't believe he's doing it himself. They cleaned each other up in the shower earlier, but it's still an amazing sight--the fastidious David, between his legs, squirming his tongue against his arsehole with no hesitation whatsoever. And the sensation, oh fuck, this man knows how to kiss. He takes his time pressing his lips to John's hole, dragging his mouth across it, spitting on it, flicking his tongue out to spread the wetness around and around. And then he dives in, stubbled face pressed into him tight, fucking John with his tongue. John can't even move in this position, he can only groan and claw at the cushions, watch as his cock jerks and drags a wet stripe across his belly, and he prays he doesn't come right here, right now because it's too fucking brilliant.
David pulls back, mouth glistening wet. "How do you like that?" He kneads John's hole with his thumbs, blowing cool air on it, making John's balls jump.
John exhales, laughs. "Fuck."
David raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I will. Peach or regular?"
John blinks. "What?"
"Pick one and I'll show you."
"Um... peach? I am going to regret this, aren't I?"
David presses a kiss on John's arse and reaches for the table. "Hope not. Close your eyes and hold yourself open."
John rolls his eyes but he does as he's told. He feels slightly ridiculous with his legs in the air, holding his buttocks apart like some peroxided pornstar, all he needs now are the stockings--and then something cold and slick splashes on his arse.
"What the fuck?" He opens his eyes and sees David is holding a dessert bowl right over his arse, smirking like a bastard.
"Peach syrup."
"Oh, you fucking nutter."
"Yep." David reaches over John, tongue between his teeth, and drizzles more syrup over John's arse, balls, cock, making a mess. "Don't tell me you don't like it," he croons, working a finger inside John and it's cold and slick and sticky and so, so wrong. And then he laps at John's balls, sucks on them with wet, noisy smacks and John's own hands slip in the sweet mess, and he pushes back onto David's finger, panting and trying not to beg and whimper and plead for more. David lets go of the bowl and wraps a wet hand on John's cock, syrup squeezing out from between his knuckles as he pumps his fist, twisting another finger inside John's arse.
"Oh. Fuck. Don't stop." John wraps his own hand over David's, hissing from between his teeth.
"Yeah?" David turns his hand a little, curling his fingers upwards, stroking softly.
"Yeah. Feels good."
David licks over John's knuckles and drags his fingers inside John, beckoning inside him. His pupils are dilated and his voice is strained, now, greedy. "I'm going to fuck you so hard."
Fucking hell. John has to let go of his cock because he just fucking dripped at that. He cups David's face and drags his wet thumb across David's lower lip. "I think you'd better."
There's a rustle of cloth as David struggles out of his pants, somehow managing to give John's arse a few more licks in the process. When the pants are off, he pulls John close, chest against John's slippery chest, balancing and trying to find the right angle. John winces as he's stretched, murmuring "sorry" against David's cheek when he clenches despite himself.
"'s all right." David leans his forehead against John's and pulls back, only to push in again, slow and patient. "Just breathe."
And John does that, breathe, as much as he can with his legs over David's shoulders. He doesn't do this often, and there's a very good reason for that. He always feels too vulnerable at this moment, always on the edge of panic, because he's not in control of his own body any more, of what happens to it. Even when he truly loves someone, it takes time to relax enough to allow another person inside him, and the pleasure could still turn into excruciating pain in seconds if they rushed. He needs time to breathe, he needs to be held, and most of all, he needs to be able to trust.
Of course, what frightens him most is that David gives him all that. David, bless him, wraps his arms around John's legs and bends down to kiss him, not in a hurry. He keeps eye contact and never veils his emotions at a moment like this, and again John can see the care, the tender concern in his eyes. When David finally slips inside, he has the most peculiar expression on his face--it looks as if he is hurting because it feels so good, as if he is the one being somehow filled, and it makes John's heart skip a beat. David's eyes close and for a moment it looks as if he's about to cry, but when he opens them again, he only lets out a dry, choked gasp and he smiles. He reaches down to stroke John's sides, his hair tickling John's face.
"You okay?"
"Mmm." John breathes in and out, pressing up against David, stroking his own cock, giving a little wriggle, greedy for more friction. "Keep going."
David pours a little more syrup between them and experiments with pushing deeper, deeper--and when he's all the way in, he presses down with a mischievous smile, not moving at all. "Deep enough for you?"
John groans. "Oh, you bastard." He tries to wriggle some more, work his cock with his hand but David won't budge. He hates it when David does this, and he knows exactly why he does it, the sneaky git. He wants to see John plead, wants to hear how much John needs to be fucked. John sinks his nails into David's back and tries to push up, tries to catch David's mouth to bite it, but it's no use. He grabs David's hair and twists, and fuck, the way David looks with that little bit of pain, the way he breathes faster, the way his eyes light up, his breath hot on John's face. And still, he smiles.
"What do you want, John?"
"Fuck off."
"Wrong answer." David licks up his neck and rolls his hips in a slow tease. John tightens his fists and pulls harder on David's hair, pulls his head back as much as he can in this position and growls, spits out the words. "Fuck me."
David pulls back and rams inside, making John cry out. "Like this?" He pulls John's hands off his hair and pins them to the cushions and rams in again. "Harder? Is that what you want?"
John can't even answer that, because David is already moving in and out of him, and anything he tries to say now comes out as a moan. David picks up the pace and groans deep in his chest, and he bloody well wasn't lying about that hard fuck; he pounds into John with all his energy, unrestrained and raw. John is on fucking fire, as if he's all arse and balls and cock, all of him concentrated around that marvellous friction and heat, and he may have just called out David's name but he doesn't care. It's David, David and he's as deep inside as it's possible to get and John feels as if he's going to die right here, a cock up his arse and moaning like a tart and he doesn't care about that either. The sofa creaks and there's syrup running down his arse to the small of his back and he's so full, so full and he needs to touch his cock and he can't take it, he can't. He tucks his hand in between them, wanks himself rough and fast and he smells like sugar and sweat, sticky and sweet like a girl being fucked and he's so close, there--
And then David buries his face in his shoulder and shouts, shaking all over, slamming into him, balls slapping against his arse, jerking and spasming and coming inside him, chanting "Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod" against his neck. John clenches and works his cock, belly quivering, biting into David's arm, panting, desperate to come. David just pulls up, looking drunk, eyes crossed and with an idiotic smile on his face. He glances down. "Do you need help with that?"
John gives him A Look. "If you don't mind."
"Well, then". David gives one last hip-wriggle, then pulls out of John with a squelch.
"Oi! I was enjoying that!"
"Hang on". David slides down to his knees and pulls John's hips up, so John's almost completely balanced on his shoulders. Being bent in half feels better this time; being fucked certainly relaxed John's back. And oh, fuck, yes, this is more like it: David kneads at his hole, hooking his thumbs inside, stretching him, looking at him in awe and delight. "You're so wide open. God. I--" and David doesn't bother to finish, but bends down in worship to lap at John's hole, licking up syrup and come. He looks up at John and he fucking hums, tongue vibrating right inside his arse.
John laughs, disbelieving and quite possibly in love. The man is absolutely insane. "Fuck. If this is what I get for being your Master, I would've come back a long time ago."
"Careful what you wish for." David sucks on three fingers and pushes them inside John with such ease that it makes John groan and shiver.
"Yeah?" John tugs at his cock, pausing to press down on his balls with the heel of his hand.
"If you were the Master..." David narrows his eyes--"I wouldn't be using just three fingers."
"Oh?"
"Do you want to know what I'd do to you, John?"
John squeezes his cock hard, slapping it against David's lower lip. "Tell me."
David gives John's cock a slow lick and turns his wrist, fucking him slowly. "I'd use my entire hand."
John jerks and closes his eyes. "Fuck."
"I knew you'd like that. Are you imagining it now?" he pushes in with what must be four fingers or more, stretching John out so perfectly, and of course John's thinking about it. "Yes." He's thinking of that look David gets in his eyes in the studio, full of sound and fury. That look he gets when they fuck in costume, when sex needs to be about bruised throats, shattered teacups and makeup smudged with tears. He thinks of himself on David's bed, swearing and cursing, handcuffs clinking against the bedframe as he sinks down on David's wrist. John's terrified, terrified at how much he wants it, and he's never been this aroused in his life.
David leans over him and kisses his eyelids, fluttering his fingers inside. "Look at me, John."
John opens his eyes and instead of that hard, desperate look he was expecting to see, he finds David smiling, full of gentleness, searching John's eyes. "I won't do anything you don't want."
"What if I"--John's mouth is dry and he has to swallow and wet his lips to be able to speak again--"what if I do want it?"
"Then..." David rotates his hand, laughs. "I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." He kisses John's mouth. "But only on one condition."
John runs his thumb across the head of his cock. "And that is?"
David pauses for a moment, flicks his eyes downwards and then meets John's eyes again, frank and unwavering. "That you'll do the same for me."
Fuck. John reaches up to stroke David's cheek, trying to keep his hand from shaking. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
David gives firm nod. "Oh yes."
John stretches and pushes himself down on David's fingers. "You've got yourself a deal. Now, fuck me." He pulls David into another kiss and David makes this noise into his mouth, even as he starts to move his fingers again, massaging John from the inside. It's hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. John chuckles into David's mouth and then breaks off, David's wet lips dragging against his cheek as David fingers him faster, harder, curling just there, and how in the hell David still remembers the exact right spots to hit, John just doesn't know. It might be love. He breathes in deep and wanks himself faster, unable to keep quiet, moaning with each stroke, coming undone under David. His muscles ache from the strain and it's almost painful when he finally comes, watching David's hand between his legs, every stroke of David's fingers making come spurt out of his cock, David controlling each delicious tremor and spasm. He's still coming as David bends down to lick the come off his stomach, the scrape of his stubble making him shiver even more as David drinks him up, mouths the head of his cock and sucks out the last drops.
When he can finally stop shaking, John arranges himself back into a more comfortable position and lets his head loll back, making a phbthbtthhh noise at the ceiling. "Fuck-king hell."
David flops right next to him, giving him a big, sloppy, come-drenched kiss, finishing off with an eyebrow waggle. "Tastes like peaches and cream."
"Nice one, Casanova. Thankfully, I'm too tired to throttle you." John yawns.
David pulls closer. "You can do that tomorrow if you like."
"Mhmm. Bedtime, now." John yawns again. "That's an order, by the way. Sleep. Obey your Master."
David collapses dramatically over John's lap, limp as a noodle and makes an exaggerated snoring noise.
"You're hopeless." John rolls his eyes, smiles and pulls the quilt over them both.
Author: snowgrouse
Pairing: David Tennant/John Simm
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers/Warnings: Insta-fic, gratuitous PWP, rimming
Length: ~3366 words
Summary: There were plenty of good reasons for John to come back. David is one of them.
A/N: Written for a prompt on sizeofthatthing. The original prompt was "John is David's Master", but this turned out rather friendly and not very Masterly or BDSMy, although there are hints of rougher encounters. Contains peaches and cream. Sort of. Thanks to whoever prompted it, and versaphile for a quick beta.
Disclaimer: As far as I know, this didn't happen, nor am I pretending it did. It's pure fantasy, meant for quick unfs and lols.
This is not why he came back, John thinks lazily, smiling as he leans back and switches off the telly. There were plenty of good reasons to come back, and none of them technically involved crashing on a sofa in Cardiff with David's head slumped in his lap.
David, half-asleep, mumbles something John can't make out, but it's possibly something to do with whichever stuntman played the somersaulting Sea Devil again, which toupee Delgado was wearing at the time and how the Tenth Doctor could "totally kick Pertwee's arse".
When David turns his head and smiles up at him, eyes bleary and hair wild, John knows he's not fooling anyone. Yeah. That smile is what he came back for. He's missed the way it makes him respond automatically, makes him smile in turn and relax. And he does that so rarely these days, relaxing. It's only been a few days on set and he's noticed he's already smiling more, laughing more. And that's a good thing indeed. He cups David's cheek, David's stubble rough and prickly against his palm. "You should go to bed."
David makes a complaining noise, closes his eyes and presses into John's hand. "Not yet." He tries to stifle a yawn, but fails, and stretches on the sofa, the quilt sliding off his legs as he curls up closer to John. He squirms a little, waggling his eyebrows, drawling. "The night is still young."
John smiles and bites his lip. "It's eleven P.M.--"
"--which means we've got plenty of time." David gets up and straddles John's lap, still in his underpants and still sore from their last tumble, going by the little wince he makes as he wriggles close.
John shakes his head. "Are you always this insatiable?" he asks as he sinks his fingers into David's hair, pulling him down into a soft kiss.
David pushes John's shoulders into the sofa and murmurs into his mouth. "It's your fault. You're the one who insists on being so fuckable."
John pauses, making a mock-thinky face. "Yeah... I think I can live with that. Hey! Stop it!" John squirms as David tickles him, tickles and it's ridiculous and John can't hold back giggles as he twists and grabs and pushes to get away. Mercilessly, David dances his fingers down John's ribs and sides, squeaking loudly as John tries to tickle him back. "That's what you get for being--" David gulps in air amidst his giggles--"a smug git"--
"Oi!" John manages to grab David's arms, pinning them to his sides. A bit of restraint, oh, David likes that. There are small bruises forming on his arms from last night, right there above his elbows, where John had buckled him up tight. John lightens his grip, turning it into a caress. "Hope I didn't hurt you too much." He still can't decide if using luggage straps for bondage was ingenious or insane; possibly a bit of both.
David grins and wiggles in John's lap. "Nah, you didn't hurt me. No more than I wanted you to, anyway."
John moves his hands to David's arse, grabbing and pinching. "Be that as it may... no whips and chains tonight. I'm tired."
David, ever hopeful, slides his hands inside John's t-shirt. "Tomorrow, then?"
"Mm hmm." John smacks David's arse and narrows his eyes a little--oh, yes, David catches on immediately, swallowing, catching his breath. John licks his lips and lowers his voice into a rumble, shifting it a little more towards RP. "Tell me, David..." John dips his fingers inside David's pants and watches David's eyes widen. "Just how much did you miss me?" He slides his hands across David's buttocks and he can feel goosebumps. Fucking perfect.
David stills, serious for a moment. "I missed you very much." He slides down onto the floor, to rest between John's knees. "I assume this is where you want me to show you?"
John leans back and spreads his legs, trying to keep from cracking up. "You're learning, my--"
"--if you say 'my dear Doctor', I'm going to bite something off."
John pouts. "It was going to be 'my young padawan'. Besides, I thought I was your favourite supervillain. The most evil man in the universe. The most magnificient bastard ever created."
David laughs against John's thighs. "Trust me, you are. Especially the bastard bit." He kisses higher, nuzzling where thigh meets hip. "And my favourite. There. Does that satisfy your ego?"
"Mmm." John thrusts his hips up. "I think I need a little more convincing," he says as David helps him squirm out of his clothes. Oh, that's impressive--he can still manage quite an erection after a shag in the trailer and a blowjob in the lift. But only when David wraps his hand around his cock does he realise how sore he really is. "Careful," he hisses, and David softens his touch, slows down.
"Like this?" David strokes him lightly, barely touching, letting John's cock swell in his hand and presses soft, wet kisses on the head. John wants to just close his eyes and lean back, because it's perfect, so perfect, so slow and so sweet. But he can't. Not with David looking up at him like that, not with just arousal but such care, such genuine affection. How little David needs to do to make him grow still like this, to make his voice catch in his throat when he finally speaks. "Yeah."
"Mmm." It's David who closes his eyes now, leaning down to take John into his mouth, and the way he looks, god. John gently pushes David's hair out of the way to watch, and it's David's focus, David's intensity that gets him, always does. He's always in awe of how David puts so much of himself into whatever he does, holding nothing back, and this is no exception. This could be a quick blowjob as a part of a meaningless fling. It could be David doing this just to get his cock sucked in turn. But it's not. He sucks and tastes John like he means it, like he wants to taste him in his mouth for days. And that makes John shiver and swallow, tighten his fist in David's hair.
He knows he could stop the tenderness now, escape it if he wanted to. He could snarl out a few villainous lines and just turn it into a friendly, cheeky fuck and nothing more. He could snap his hips up, cram his cock down David's throat and then come all over his face. God knows they've done it before, god knows that's what it started out as. But he can't. And then he can't think any more, because David is pushing up his legs and bending him in half and his tongue is on John's arse and fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
"You dirty sod," John chokes out. David just chuckles into his arse, lapping at it, looking up as if he can't believe he's doing it himself. They cleaned each other up in the shower earlier, but it's still an amazing sight--the fastidious David, between his legs, squirming his tongue against his arsehole with no hesitation whatsoever. And the sensation, oh fuck, this man knows how to kiss. He takes his time pressing his lips to John's hole, dragging his mouth across it, spitting on it, flicking his tongue out to spread the wetness around and around. And then he dives in, stubbled face pressed into him tight, fucking John with his tongue. John can't even move in this position, he can only groan and claw at the cushions, watch as his cock jerks and drags a wet stripe across his belly, and he prays he doesn't come right here, right now because it's too fucking brilliant.
David pulls back, mouth glistening wet. "How do you like that?" He kneads John's hole with his thumbs, blowing cool air on it, making John's balls jump.
John exhales, laughs. "Fuck."
David raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I will. Peach or regular?"
John blinks. "What?"
"Pick one and I'll show you."
"Um... peach? I am going to regret this, aren't I?"
David presses a kiss on John's arse and reaches for the table. "Hope not. Close your eyes and hold yourself open."
John rolls his eyes but he does as he's told. He feels slightly ridiculous with his legs in the air, holding his buttocks apart like some peroxided pornstar, all he needs now are the stockings--and then something cold and slick splashes on his arse.
"What the fuck?" He opens his eyes and sees David is holding a dessert bowl right over his arse, smirking like a bastard.
"Peach syrup."
"Oh, you fucking nutter."
"Yep." David reaches over John, tongue between his teeth, and drizzles more syrup over John's arse, balls, cock, making a mess. "Don't tell me you don't like it," he croons, working a finger inside John and it's cold and slick and sticky and so, so wrong. And then he laps at John's balls, sucks on them with wet, noisy smacks and John's own hands slip in the sweet mess, and he pushes back onto David's finger, panting and trying not to beg and whimper and plead for more. David lets go of the bowl and wraps a wet hand on John's cock, syrup squeezing out from between his knuckles as he pumps his fist, twisting another finger inside John's arse.
"Oh. Fuck. Don't stop." John wraps his own hand over David's, hissing from between his teeth.
"Yeah?" David turns his hand a little, curling his fingers upwards, stroking softly.
"Yeah. Feels good."
David licks over John's knuckles and drags his fingers inside John, beckoning inside him. His pupils are dilated and his voice is strained, now, greedy. "I'm going to fuck you so hard."
Fucking hell. John has to let go of his cock because he just fucking dripped at that. He cups David's face and drags his wet thumb across David's lower lip. "I think you'd better."
There's a rustle of cloth as David struggles out of his pants, somehow managing to give John's arse a few more licks in the process. When the pants are off, he pulls John close, chest against John's slippery chest, balancing and trying to find the right angle. John winces as he's stretched, murmuring "sorry" against David's cheek when he clenches despite himself.
"'s all right." David leans his forehead against John's and pulls back, only to push in again, slow and patient. "Just breathe."
And John does that, breathe, as much as he can with his legs over David's shoulders. He doesn't do this often, and there's a very good reason for that. He always feels too vulnerable at this moment, always on the edge of panic, because he's not in control of his own body any more, of what happens to it. Even when he truly loves someone, it takes time to relax enough to allow another person inside him, and the pleasure could still turn into excruciating pain in seconds if they rushed. He needs time to breathe, he needs to be held, and most of all, he needs to be able to trust.
Of course, what frightens him most is that David gives him all that. David, bless him, wraps his arms around John's legs and bends down to kiss him, not in a hurry. He keeps eye contact and never veils his emotions at a moment like this, and again John can see the care, the tender concern in his eyes. When David finally slips inside, he has the most peculiar expression on his face--it looks as if he is hurting because it feels so good, as if he is the one being somehow filled, and it makes John's heart skip a beat. David's eyes close and for a moment it looks as if he's about to cry, but when he opens them again, he only lets out a dry, choked gasp and he smiles. He reaches down to stroke John's sides, his hair tickling John's face.
"You okay?"
"Mmm." John breathes in and out, pressing up against David, stroking his own cock, giving a little wriggle, greedy for more friction. "Keep going."
David pours a little more syrup between them and experiments with pushing deeper, deeper--and when he's all the way in, he presses down with a mischievous smile, not moving at all. "Deep enough for you?"
John groans. "Oh, you bastard." He tries to wriggle some more, work his cock with his hand but David won't budge. He hates it when David does this, and he knows exactly why he does it, the sneaky git. He wants to see John plead, wants to hear how much John needs to be fucked. John sinks his nails into David's back and tries to push up, tries to catch David's mouth to bite it, but it's no use. He grabs David's hair and twists, and fuck, the way David looks with that little bit of pain, the way he breathes faster, the way his eyes light up, his breath hot on John's face. And still, he smiles.
"What do you want, John?"
"Fuck off."
"Wrong answer." David licks up his neck and rolls his hips in a slow tease. John tightens his fists and pulls harder on David's hair, pulls his head back as much as he can in this position and growls, spits out the words. "Fuck me."
David pulls back and rams inside, making John cry out. "Like this?" He pulls John's hands off his hair and pins them to the cushions and rams in again. "Harder? Is that what you want?"
John can't even answer that, because David is already moving in and out of him, and anything he tries to say now comes out as a moan. David picks up the pace and groans deep in his chest, and he bloody well wasn't lying about that hard fuck; he pounds into John with all his energy, unrestrained and raw. John is on fucking fire, as if he's all arse and balls and cock, all of him concentrated around that marvellous friction and heat, and he may have just called out David's name but he doesn't care. It's David, David and he's as deep inside as it's possible to get and John feels as if he's going to die right here, a cock up his arse and moaning like a tart and he doesn't care about that either. The sofa creaks and there's syrup running down his arse to the small of his back and he's so full, so full and he needs to touch his cock and he can't take it, he can't. He tucks his hand in between them, wanks himself rough and fast and he smells like sugar and sweat, sticky and sweet like a girl being fucked and he's so close, there--
And then David buries his face in his shoulder and shouts, shaking all over, slamming into him, balls slapping against his arse, jerking and spasming and coming inside him, chanting "Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod" against his neck. John clenches and works his cock, belly quivering, biting into David's arm, panting, desperate to come. David just pulls up, looking drunk, eyes crossed and with an idiotic smile on his face. He glances down. "Do you need help with that?"
John gives him A Look. "If you don't mind."
"Well, then". David gives one last hip-wriggle, then pulls out of John with a squelch.
"Oi! I was enjoying that!"
"Hang on". David slides down to his knees and pulls John's hips up, so John's almost completely balanced on his shoulders. Being bent in half feels better this time; being fucked certainly relaxed John's back. And oh, fuck, yes, this is more like it: David kneads at his hole, hooking his thumbs inside, stretching him, looking at him in awe and delight. "You're so wide open. God. I--" and David doesn't bother to finish, but bends down in worship to lap at John's hole, licking up syrup and come. He looks up at John and he fucking hums, tongue vibrating right inside his arse.
John laughs, disbelieving and quite possibly in love. The man is absolutely insane. "Fuck. If this is what I get for being your Master, I would've come back a long time ago."
"Careful what you wish for." David sucks on three fingers and pushes them inside John with such ease that it makes John groan and shiver.
"Yeah?" John tugs at his cock, pausing to press down on his balls with the heel of his hand.
"If you were the Master..." David narrows his eyes--"I wouldn't be using just three fingers."
"Oh?"
"Do you want to know what I'd do to you, John?"
John squeezes his cock hard, slapping it against David's lower lip. "Tell me."
David gives John's cock a slow lick and turns his wrist, fucking him slowly. "I'd use my entire hand."
John jerks and closes his eyes. "Fuck."
"I knew you'd like that. Are you imagining it now?" he pushes in with what must be four fingers or more, stretching John out so perfectly, and of course John's thinking about it. "Yes." He's thinking of that look David gets in his eyes in the studio, full of sound and fury. That look he gets when they fuck in costume, when sex needs to be about bruised throats, shattered teacups and makeup smudged with tears. He thinks of himself on David's bed, swearing and cursing, handcuffs clinking against the bedframe as he sinks down on David's wrist. John's terrified, terrified at how much he wants it, and he's never been this aroused in his life.
David leans over him and kisses his eyelids, fluttering his fingers inside. "Look at me, John."
John opens his eyes and instead of that hard, desperate look he was expecting to see, he finds David smiling, full of gentleness, searching John's eyes. "I won't do anything you don't want."
"What if I"--John's mouth is dry and he has to swallow and wet his lips to be able to speak again--"what if I do want it?"
"Then..." David rotates his hand, laughs. "I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." He kisses John's mouth. "But only on one condition."
John runs his thumb across the head of his cock. "And that is?"
David pauses for a moment, flicks his eyes downwards and then meets John's eyes again, frank and unwavering. "That you'll do the same for me."
Fuck. John reaches up to stroke David's cheek, trying to keep his hand from shaking. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
David gives firm nod. "Oh yes."
John stretches and pushes himself down on David's fingers. "You've got yourself a deal. Now, fuck me." He pulls David into another kiss and David makes this noise into his mouth, even as he starts to move his fingers again, massaging John from the inside. It's hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. John chuckles into David's mouth and then breaks off, David's wet lips dragging against his cheek as David fingers him faster, harder, curling just there, and how in the hell David still remembers the exact right spots to hit, John just doesn't know. It might be love. He breathes in deep and wanks himself faster, unable to keep quiet, moaning with each stroke, coming undone under David. His muscles ache from the strain and it's almost painful when he finally comes, watching David's hand between his legs, every stroke of David's fingers making come spurt out of his cock, David controlling each delicious tremor and spasm. He's still coming as David bends down to lick the come off his stomach, the scrape of his stubble making him shiver even more as David drinks him up, mouths the head of his cock and sucks out the last drops.
When he can finally stop shaking, John arranges himself back into a more comfortable position and lets his head loll back, making a phbthbtthhh noise at the ceiling. "Fuck-king hell."
David flops right next to him, giving him a big, sloppy, come-drenched kiss, finishing off with an eyebrow waggle. "Tastes like peaches and cream."
"Nice one, Casanova. Thankfully, I'm too tired to throttle you." John yawns.
David pulls closer. "You can do that tomorrow if you like."
"Mhmm. Bedtime, now." John yawns again. "That's an order, by the way. Sleep. Obey your Master."
David collapses dramatically over John's lap, limp as a noodle and makes an exaggerated snoring noise.
"You're hopeless." John rolls his eyes, smiles and pulls the quilt over them both.