Fiction: A Map of Your Secret Places
Title: A Map of Your Secret Places
Author: stungunbilly
Fandom: Inception RPF
Pairing: Joe/Tom
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Barebacking
Disclaimer: Lies, all of it. Blatant, sexy lies.
Summary: Joe wakes up and joins Tom in the shower. It goes well.
A/N: Written for the kinkmeme; this prompt.
A Map of Your Secret Places
by stungunbilly
Joe wakes feeling used and bruised and wonderful. He stretches languidly, rolling around in the sheets just because he can; Tom's bed is fucking huge. The sheets are filthy, and he doesn't even care, just breathes deep the scent of the two of them from the night before. His ass aches, and he clenches a little to savor the memory of being thoroughly fucked.
Most of the bed is full of sunshine from the huge skylight in Tom's bedroom, and he thinks seriously about lying in all day, just waiting for Tom to return and pouncing him, demanding to be given breakfast in bed and maybe a blowjob for good luck. He flushes at the sense memory of Tom's mouth on his dick, so soft and wet and welcoming.
There's a hiss from the bathroom as the shower starts up, and the idea of hot water and Tom changes Joe's priorities. When he slips into the shower stall, Tom has his head tilted back under the spray, rinsing out his shampoo with his eyes closed. Joe takes a moment to absorb the sight of him, water running slickly over all the places he wants to touch.
He's just admiring Tom's chest when Tom turns to put his face in the spray, and the strong, tanned stretch of Tom's back is presented to him. He runs his gaze down Tom's spine, admiring the red marks Joe's own fingernails have left, until he reaches the perfect, rounded cheeks of Tom's beautiful ass.
When they first got together, Joe hadn't had very much sexual experience with other men; a few blowjobs received, some kisses and frottage, and one memorable occasion where he'd sixty-nined with a guy he met at a club opening while he'd been studying French in NYC. It had been clear from the start that Tom was used to topping, and after their first encounter, Joe's reluctance to bottom had been gone forever.
But in most of his early fantasies about Tom, he'd imagined that ass under his hands and, in his dirtier moments, his mouth. He'd pictured slipping his fingers and tongue and cock into that dark crevice, and opening Tom up beneath him until he was sobbing with pleasure. Somehow that early fantasy had been swept away by the reality of Tom, his voice and hands and the way he makes Joe open to him by looking at him the right way.
Now, though, Joe can't stop himself from stepping forward, letting his hands find the curves of Tom's backside, even as he nuzzles into Tom's strong neck. Tom gasps, but moves back into his hands and mouth. Joe bites him, wanting to leave a mark, making Tom moan.
The flesh in his palms feels so perfect. He squeezes, allows his fingers to slip into the crevice between the cheeks. When his fingers brush Tom's tight little asshole, Tom's whole body shudders. That was unexpected, thinks Joe, pleased and aroused.
Tom's eyes are closed, his wet lashes dark against his cheeks. His mouth hangs open in slack pleasure. Joe allows his fingers to play while he watches droplets run down Tom's face and over his plump lips.
“Good morning,” he whispers into Tom's ear. His voice sounds deeper, rougher, and Tom moans softly, then again when Joe bites the lobe, licks the water off it. “I'd like to try something we haven't done before. You up for it?”
Tom doesn't answer verbally, but his ass presses firmly into Joe's hands as he arches his spine. The warm buzz of arousal Joe's been feeling deepens to an unrelenting pulse of lust at the response. His cock is suddenly so hard it's almost painful.
The shower tiles are hard under his knees as he slips to them, but all he can think about is the sweet, dark place he opens with his hands, the tight pink hole so vulnerable before him. Joe runs a thumb over it, watches it clench helplessly, and moans at the sight. He can hear Tom making noises he's never heard from him before, and though they've never talked about rimming, he can't hold back any longer.
He buries his face in Tom's sweet ass, just breathing in his rich scent, and it's as overwhelming and deeply exciting as he always imagined it would be. He can't see, only hear Tom's desperate moans, only feel the clenching as he slips his tongue into Tom without preamble. Tom is so warm and tight and musky, and his ass presses back into Joe like he can't help himself, like he wants this as badly as Joe does.
Joe fucks into him as deeply as he can with his eager tongue, face hot and cock aching desperately between his legs. He feels delirious, lost in the need to get inside of his lover. Is this what it's like for him, when he wants to fuck me? The thought makes him impossibly hotter, still feeling the memory of cock in the stretched ache of his own hole.
“Please, please, Joe,” he hears Tom begging, almost sobbing. “God, just fuck me, don't need anything, just your cock.” Tom sounds wrecked, as out of control with need as Joe feels. Tom's legs are shaking, and Joe just manages to catch him when his they give out.
He ends up sitting on his own heels, with Tom's ass in his lap and his arms around Tom's waist, Joe's face buried in Tom's wet hair. Joe slips his hand around, unable to help reaching for Tom's lovely cock, which he finds slick and stiff, as eager as his own. Tom presses back so that Joe's dick rubs between his cheeks, and lets out a moan that makes Joe thrust up with no control as it brushes Tom's swollen, wet hole.
The head slips in, and it's so tight, Joe can't think, just pushes in harder, just thrusts right up and Tom takes it, moans in pleasure, not pain. Says, “Fuck, yes, please, god,” and then they are fucking in earnest, the tiles grinding against Joe's knees and he does not care, because his cock is in the hottest, tightest place it's ever been. The rhythm is like breathing, and feels as necessary and impossible to quit.
Tom falls forward onto his hands and knees, and Joe follows him relentlessly, hands slipping to his hips to hold him. Joe feels mindless, fucking in and pulling out and pumping his cock into that sweet clench while his thoughts spiral on without him, flashing him images of Tom's slack mouth and his own cock stretching that pink hole wide and the water splashing off Tom's back, the slutty writhing as Tom pushes back and back, trying to get more of Joe and begging with every move and grunted growl of need. He can't last, needs to come so badly it hurts. When he goes off, it feels like every last bit of him is being laid bare, his nerves all overcome with ecstatic overload.
He comes back to himself bowed low over Tom's back, still inside and his cock still hard for the moment, thankfully not crushing his lover but with Tom's needy cries pushing him back to self-awareness. Joe un-clenches a clumsy hand from Tom's hip, reaches for his cock and strips it with little grace but immense gratitude. It's only a moment before Tom comes with a wordless sound, the last clench of his ass around Joe's spent cock a fleeting jolt of pleasure before Tom slumps onto the tile and Joe slips from him at last.
~
Some time later, they are warm and curled around each other in Tom's bed, and Joe notices Tom's eyes are softer than he's ever seen them. It makes something unfurl in his chest, and he pulls Tom closer, allowing his hand to rest on the sweet ass that gave him such satisfaction earlier. Tom purrs at this, and nuzzles Joe's neck, whispering softly in his ear.
“I've been waiting for you to do that since before we met, I think.” He sounds completely content in a way Joe has never heard.
They've been sleeping together for a few months, a weekend here and there, but haven't really talked about what it means or where this is going. Joe know how he feels, of course he does, but he hadn't thought Tom felt the same way. But when he leans up over Tom on one elbow, Tom's expression is open and sweet.
“Stay,” says Tom.
Joe knows he means more than tonight, means for Joe to return the ticket for his flight tomorrow morning. He thinks about the way Tom's bed and body welcomed him this morning, about seeing that soft look in Tom's eyes every day.
He stays.
~fin
Author: stungunbilly
Fandom: Inception RPF
Pairing: Joe/Tom
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Barebacking
Disclaimer: Lies, all of it. Blatant, sexy lies.
Summary: Joe wakes up and joins Tom in the shower. It goes well.
A/N: Written for the kinkmeme; this prompt.
A Map of Your Secret Places
by stungunbilly
Joe wakes feeling used and bruised and wonderful. He stretches languidly, rolling around in the sheets just because he can; Tom's bed is fucking huge. The sheets are filthy, and he doesn't even care, just breathes deep the scent of the two of them from the night before. His ass aches, and he clenches a little to savor the memory of being thoroughly fucked.
Most of the bed is full of sunshine from the huge skylight in Tom's bedroom, and he thinks seriously about lying in all day, just waiting for Tom to return and pouncing him, demanding to be given breakfast in bed and maybe a blowjob for good luck. He flushes at the sense memory of Tom's mouth on his dick, so soft and wet and welcoming.
There's a hiss from the bathroom as the shower starts up, and the idea of hot water and Tom changes Joe's priorities. When he slips into the shower stall, Tom has his head tilted back under the spray, rinsing out his shampoo with his eyes closed. Joe takes a moment to absorb the sight of him, water running slickly over all the places he wants to touch.
He's just admiring Tom's chest when Tom turns to put his face in the spray, and the strong, tanned stretch of Tom's back is presented to him. He runs his gaze down Tom's spine, admiring the red marks Joe's own fingernails have left, until he reaches the perfect, rounded cheeks of Tom's beautiful ass.
When they first got together, Joe hadn't had very much sexual experience with other men; a few blowjobs received, some kisses and frottage, and one memorable occasion where he'd sixty-nined with a guy he met at a club opening while he'd been studying French in NYC. It had been clear from the start that Tom was used to topping, and after their first encounter, Joe's reluctance to bottom had been gone forever.
But in most of his early fantasies about Tom, he'd imagined that ass under his hands and, in his dirtier moments, his mouth. He'd pictured slipping his fingers and tongue and cock into that dark crevice, and opening Tom up beneath him until he was sobbing with pleasure. Somehow that early fantasy had been swept away by the reality of Tom, his voice and hands and the way he makes Joe open to him by looking at him the right way.
Now, though, Joe can't stop himself from stepping forward, letting his hands find the curves of Tom's backside, even as he nuzzles into Tom's strong neck. Tom gasps, but moves back into his hands and mouth. Joe bites him, wanting to leave a mark, making Tom moan.
The flesh in his palms feels so perfect. He squeezes, allows his fingers to slip into the crevice between the cheeks. When his fingers brush Tom's tight little asshole, Tom's whole body shudders. That was unexpected, thinks Joe, pleased and aroused.
Tom's eyes are closed, his wet lashes dark against his cheeks. His mouth hangs open in slack pleasure. Joe allows his fingers to play while he watches droplets run down Tom's face and over his plump lips.
“Good morning,” he whispers into Tom's ear. His voice sounds deeper, rougher, and Tom moans softly, then again when Joe bites the lobe, licks the water off it. “I'd like to try something we haven't done before. You up for it?”
Tom doesn't answer verbally, but his ass presses firmly into Joe's hands as he arches his spine. The warm buzz of arousal Joe's been feeling deepens to an unrelenting pulse of lust at the response. His cock is suddenly so hard it's almost painful.
The shower tiles are hard under his knees as he slips to them, but all he can think about is the sweet, dark place he opens with his hands, the tight pink hole so vulnerable before him. Joe runs a thumb over it, watches it clench helplessly, and moans at the sight. He can hear Tom making noises he's never heard from him before, and though they've never talked about rimming, he can't hold back any longer.
He buries his face in Tom's sweet ass, just breathing in his rich scent, and it's as overwhelming and deeply exciting as he always imagined it would be. He can't see, only hear Tom's desperate moans, only feel the clenching as he slips his tongue into Tom without preamble. Tom is so warm and tight and musky, and his ass presses back into Joe like he can't help himself, like he wants this as badly as Joe does.
Joe fucks into him as deeply as he can with his eager tongue, face hot and cock aching desperately between his legs. He feels delirious, lost in the need to get inside of his lover. Is this what it's like for him, when he wants to fuck me? The thought makes him impossibly hotter, still feeling the memory of cock in the stretched ache of his own hole.
“Please, please, Joe,” he hears Tom begging, almost sobbing. “God, just fuck me, don't need anything, just your cock.” Tom sounds wrecked, as out of control with need as Joe feels. Tom's legs are shaking, and Joe just manages to catch him when his they give out.
He ends up sitting on his own heels, with Tom's ass in his lap and his arms around Tom's waist, Joe's face buried in Tom's wet hair. Joe slips his hand around, unable to help reaching for Tom's lovely cock, which he finds slick and stiff, as eager as his own. Tom presses back so that Joe's dick rubs between his cheeks, and lets out a moan that makes Joe thrust up with no control as it brushes Tom's swollen, wet hole.
The head slips in, and it's so tight, Joe can't think, just pushes in harder, just thrusts right up and Tom takes it, moans in pleasure, not pain. Says, “Fuck, yes, please, god,” and then they are fucking in earnest, the tiles grinding against Joe's knees and he does not care, because his cock is in the hottest, tightest place it's ever been. The rhythm is like breathing, and feels as necessary and impossible to quit.
Tom falls forward onto his hands and knees, and Joe follows him relentlessly, hands slipping to his hips to hold him. Joe feels mindless, fucking in and pulling out and pumping his cock into that sweet clench while his thoughts spiral on without him, flashing him images of Tom's slack mouth and his own cock stretching that pink hole wide and the water splashing off Tom's back, the slutty writhing as Tom pushes back and back, trying to get more of Joe and begging with every move and grunted growl of need. He can't last, needs to come so badly it hurts. When he goes off, it feels like every last bit of him is being laid bare, his nerves all overcome with ecstatic overload.
He comes back to himself bowed low over Tom's back, still inside and his cock still hard for the moment, thankfully not crushing his lover but with Tom's needy cries pushing him back to self-awareness. Joe un-clenches a clumsy hand from Tom's hip, reaches for his cock and strips it with little grace but immense gratitude. It's only a moment before Tom comes with a wordless sound, the last clench of his ass around Joe's spent cock a fleeting jolt of pleasure before Tom slumps onto the tile and Joe slips from him at last.
~
Some time later, they are warm and curled around each other in Tom's bed, and Joe notices Tom's eyes are softer than he's ever seen them. It makes something unfurl in his chest, and he pulls Tom closer, allowing his hand to rest on the sweet ass that gave him such satisfaction earlier. Tom purrs at this, and nuzzles Joe's neck, whispering softly in his ear.
“I've been waiting for you to do that since before we met, I think.” He sounds completely content in a way Joe has never heard.
They've been sleeping together for a few months, a weekend here and there, but haven't really talked about what it means or where this is going. Joe know how he feels, of course he does, but he hadn't thought Tom felt the same way. But when he leans up over Tom on one elbow, Tom's expression is open and sweet.
“Stay,” says Tom.
Joe knows he means more than tonight, means for Joe to return the ticket for his flight tomorrow morning. He thinks about the way Tom's bed and body welcomed him this morning, about seeing that soft look in Tom's eyes every day.
He stays.
~fin