Fic: These Velvet Rims
Title: These Velvet Rims
Author: echoing_dream
Fandom: The Covanent
Pairing/character: Pogue/Tyler
Length: Just Under 2000
Rating: NC17
Summary: "I think you've got a bit of a thing for my bike Ty."
Notes/Warnings: Slash. Underage (17/18).Bike Porn.
Pogue strips out of the leather jacket and Tyler buries his nose in the space where Pogue's neck meets his shoulder, breathing in the smell of sweat and leather and Pogue. He nuzzles, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin until Pogue tips his head back, settles against the kitchen counter so that Tyler can press even closer, wrap himself in that scent even as his hands slide under Pogue's back, the thin T-shirt sticking to his skin.
"Hey." Pogue snags his fingers, easing away just enough to look Tyler in the eye. "Not that I'm complaining," he grins, pupils already dilated, and Tyler can feel the leather of Pogue's pants growing tighter, warmer, "but what's brought this on?"
Tyler doesn't rightly know, though he has a fair idea because Pogue's dragging a hand through his damp hair and Tyler can see the faint indentations the helmet has made in the skin of his face. He pouts in lieu of an answer, crowding close again and pressing Pogue into the corner of his kitchen. Pogue groans into the kisses, made sloppy as Tyler struggles with the fastenings on Pogue's leather pants. He growls in frustration, a quick flare of Power banishing both pants and boxers, and he catches the amused grin on Pogue's face as he sinks to his knees.
"Ty?" Pogue's voice gives out on a gasp as Tyler settles his hands on the older boy's hips, breathing in the musk and leather, watching Pogue's cock bob with the increasing beat of his heart. He closes his eyes, the better to concentrate, leaning forwards until he can lap at the head of Pogue's cock, gathering salty-slick pre-come on his tongue. He's only done this a handful of times, doesn't have Reid's skill or Caleb's enthusiasm, but Pogue makes a sound like Tyler is breaking him just a little, his fingertips scrabbling for purchase on the counter-top.
He takes the head of Pogue's cock fully into his mouth, wet noises and more than a little bit of spit escaping as he swallows and sucks, trying to imitate the patterns that Reid makes with his tongue on the underside of Pogue's cock. He's grateful for his hands pinning Pogue's hips, pressing him back against the cupboards when Pogue tries to thrust into Tyler's mouth. Up close, the smell of the leather against Pogue's warm skin is almost overwhelming, and Tyler sinks into it, revels in the feel of Pogue's cock, hot and heavy against his tongue.
There's drool beginning to slide down Tyler's chin as Pogue's knees start to shake, one hand dropping heavy onto Tyler's head as the sounds falling from Pogue's mouth become more ragged. He concentrates on sucking the head of Pogue's cock, trying not to pull away as Pogue comes hard, his fingers tangling into the short curls of Tyler's hair, a few dribbles of come spilling down his chin.
Pogue's knees shake, and Tyler shuffles back a little so that Pogue can sink down to the floor, flushed and panting, looking a little dazed as he rubs at Tyler's cheek.
***
"Here." Tyler catches the helmet on reflex, looking at it in a slightly confused way. It would be exasperating if Tyler didn't look quite so cute, but they're already late if Tyler's going to make Curfew at the Dorm. "Just put it on." Pogue glances at the sky; the threatening clouds from earlier have all but cleared, and the night is cold and clear.
He slides onto the Ducati, feeling the bone-deep satisfaction at the first purr of her engine as she starts up. Tyler's still fiddling with the straps of the helmet, and it occurs to Pogue that he's never taken Tyler on the bike before. That's an odd thought, and he tires to study the expression on Tyler's face as he drags the younger boy over and fixes the helmet safely in place. There's a nervousness there, not quite hidden by the excited flush that colours his cheeks as Pogue touches his lips lightly before shutting the visor.
Tyler's hands start out on the handle at the back of the bike, and Pogue connects the blue-tooth intercoms inside the helmets, a buzz of static before he can hear Tyler's slightly increased breathing rate.
"Lean where I lean," he instructs as he tries to start off slow, but there's a shallow corner just ahead and he picks up speed, preparing to lean the bike in a little. Tyler's hands grab franticly at his hips, pulling himself closer up behind Pogue, a gasp as Pogue eases the bike upright again, picking up more speed as they hit a long straight. "Put your hands around my waist," he instructs, trying to focus on the bike beneath him when Tyler complies, tucking himself behind Pogue until he fancies he can feel Tyler's body heat even through the two layers of leather.
Tyler's quiet, and Pogue tries to keep it slow and steady, holding smooth lines through the corners and down the straights. Tyler makes a soft noise through the comm., and Pogue slows a little more, opening his mouth to soothe him. The noise comes through again, louder this time, clearly a soft moan, despite the static in the headsets. Tyler's arms are tight around Pogue's waist still, but Tyler's leaning of his own accord, and Pogue can feel how he's tuned himself into the bike and their motion. There's a longer route back to the school, back roads that are more or less deserted at night, and Pogue takes a quick turn, kicks up a gear as he settles into the familiar pattern of twists and turns that take all of his concentration.
***
The bike purrs beneath them, perfect weave and dip through the corners and Tyler presses even closer to Pogue, finally understands how it is that Pogue can ride for hours at a time. He loves the rumble of the engine, as though the bike is living and breathing beneath them, loves how close he's pressed against Pogue's back, surrounded by leather and warmth as the wind whips around them.
It takes him a moment to realise that Pogue's slowing down, still deep in the woods, a long way from the dorms. He concentrates on keeping his balance as Pogue stops the bike and kicks the stand down. Pogue takes his helmet off slowly, shaking his hair out while Tyler's still fiddling with the catch.
"Tyler?" There's a whole world of knowing in that one little word, and Tyler feels himself blush beetroot as he finally gets the helmet off, glad that it's too dark for Pogue to see. He slides stiffly off the back of the bike, suddenly needing the space. He's always had a thing for Pogue, especially in his leathers, but it was one thing for him to know it, another thing entirely for Pogue to have discovered his fixation.
His legs are a little shaky, and he's not sure what he planned to do now that he's off the bike, trying to ignore the way Pogue sprawls back a little, studying him.
"C'mere." Pogue holds out one hand, and Tyler goes towards him automatically, bites down on his lower lip when Pogue's fingers curl around his hip to drag him closer. He pats his knee, and Tyler is confused, trying to figure out the logistics of sitting in Pogue's knee when Pogue is already straddling the bike. Pogue solves the problem by half-pulling, half-lifting until Tyler is sat in his lap, straddling Pogue, backwards on the bike.
"I think you've got a bit of a thing for my bike Ty." He catches Tyler's face in his hands, stroking Tyler's cheek bones with his thumbs when Tyler tries to squirm away, leaning into the kiss non-the-less. Pogue kisses him slowly, tilting Tyler's head back and lapping lightly at the seam of Tyler's lips until he relents and opens his mouth. He'd forgotten just how Pogue can just take him apart.
"Maybe," he admits, "I have a bit of a thing."
Pogue just chuckles, hands deftly undoing the zip on Tyler's jacket and sliding beneath it, running up and down his back. He's been half-hard since Pogue first started the bike, and he arches into the touch, shifting to press closer, rocking just a little against the smooth metal of the bike beneath him.
"A bit of a thing?" Pogue's fingers skitter under the waistband of Tyler's jeans, teasing lightly at the skin there as Tyler moans, head falling back a little. He shifts some more, writhing when Pogue finally unzips his fly, cool air contrasting with the heat of Pogue's hand stroking the shaft.
"Mmm, more than a bit?" Words are difficult, and Tyler presses his hips up, seeking more contact, almost missing the flash of mischief that crosses Pogue's face.
"Hmm." There's a flash of Power, his and Pogue's clothes melting away into a heap at their feet, all but for Pogue's leather jacket, draped over Tyler like a cloak, leaching heat into his skin. He squirms as Pogue's slick fingers slip beneath him, easing into Tyler's hole as Pogue's other hand strokes up and down Tyler's spine beneath the heavy jacket.
The pressure builds steadily, heat coiling in Tyler's stomach and spreading slowly in a flush across his skin until he's a mess of want and need and...
"Pogue!" The word comes out as more of a groan, and Tyler arches away from the teasing fingers, gripping hard on Pogue's shoulders and finding purchase on the footrest as he slides closer, stroking Pogue's cock and whimpering in anticipation. Pogue's hands wrap around his thighs, lifting him, positioning him with a soft grunt of effort.
Tyler bites down into his lip, drops his head to Pogue's shoulder as he sinks down slow, feels the delicious stretch as Pogue's cock fills him. Their breath is hot in the confined space, Pogue's eyes closed tight as he struggles to keep still, muscles bunched and quivering. Their kiss is little more than a meeting of open mouths as Tyler rises a little, flexes around Pogue's length before sinking back down again, trying to find the angle.
Pogue rises to meet his thusts, lifts his knees a little, and somehow it's just right and Tyler whimpers aloud, one hand leaving Pogue's shoulder to tug his head back down into a kiss. They set up a rhythm, a little slow to compensate for the bike, tension building slow as Tyler writhes, metal of the bike smooth under his ass, leather trapping the warmth and Pogue's scent at his back.
He's close, sliding into a world of sensation, anchoring himself to Pogue and the bike, biting into the strong shoulders that keep him steady. He arches when the bike purrs to life beneath him, vibrations rumbling into him until everything is shuddering, shaking apart around him and through him and in him, Pogue steady the whole while, coaxing as he strokes Tyler's cock, milks him through orgasm.
Tyler's bones are heavy, the jacket swamping him as he groans, cock oversensitive where Pogue's fingers trail lightly over the head. They're both panting heavily, loud over the rumble of the bike's engine, and Tyler blinks slow, tries to get it all together in his head.
Pogue Uses again to get them cleaned and dressed, but it does nothing for the shakes in Tyler's limbs, the exhaustion that steals through him. It's an effort to climb onto the back again, and he wraps himself securely around Pogue, tucks himself as close as he physically can as Pogue takes it steady back to his apartment.
"Pogue?" he says as they stow the bike for the night.
"Hmm?"
"I think maybe you've got a thing for your bike too."
FIN
Author: echoing_dream
Fandom: The Covanent
Pairing/character: Pogue/Tyler
Length: Just Under 2000
Rating: NC17
Summary: "I think you've got a bit of a thing for my bike Ty."
Notes/Warnings: Slash. Underage (17/18).Bike Porn.
Pogue strips out of the leather jacket and Tyler buries his nose in the space where Pogue's neck meets his shoulder, breathing in the smell of sweat and leather and Pogue. He nuzzles, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin until Pogue tips his head back, settles against the kitchen counter so that Tyler can press even closer, wrap himself in that scent even as his hands slide under Pogue's back, the thin T-shirt sticking to his skin.
"Hey." Pogue snags his fingers, easing away just enough to look Tyler in the eye. "Not that I'm complaining," he grins, pupils already dilated, and Tyler can feel the leather of Pogue's pants growing tighter, warmer, "but what's brought this on?"
Tyler doesn't rightly know, though he has a fair idea because Pogue's dragging a hand through his damp hair and Tyler can see the faint indentations the helmet has made in the skin of his face. He pouts in lieu of an answer, crowding close again and pressing Pogue into the corner of his kitchen. Pogue groans into the kisses, made sloppy as Tyler struggles with the fastenings on Pogue's leather pants. He growls in frustration, a quick flare of Power banishing both pants and boxers, and he catches the amused grin on Pogue's face as he sinks to his knees.
"Ty?" Pogue's voice gives out on a gasp as Tyler settles his hands on the older boy's hips, breathing in the musk and leather, watching Pogue's cock bob with the increasing beat of his heart. He closes his eyes, the better to concentrate, leaning forwards until he can lap at the head of Pogue's cock, gathering salty-slick pre-come on his tongue. He's only done this a handful of times, doesn't have Reid's skill or Caleb's enthusiasm, but Pogue makes a sound like Tyler is breaking him just a little, his fingertips scrabbling for purchase on the counter-top.
He takes the head of Pogue's cock fully into his mouth, wet noises and more than a little bit of spit escaping as he swallows and sucks, trying to imitate the patterns that Reid makes with his tongue on the underside of Pogue's cock. He's grateful for his hands pinning Pogue's hips, pressing him back against the cupboards when Pogue tries to thrust into Tyler's mouth. Up close, the smell of the leather against Pogue's warm skin is almost overwhelming, and Tyler sinks into it, revels in the feel of Pogue's cock, hot and heavy against his tongue.
There's drool beginning to slide down Tyler's chin as Pogue's knees start to shake, one hand dropping heavy onto Tyler's head as the sounds falling from Pogue's mouth become more ragged. He concentrates on sucking the head of Pogue's cock, trying not to pull away as Pogue comes hard, his fingers tangling into the short curls of Tyler's hair, a few dribbles of come spilling down his chin.
Pogue's knees shake, and Tyler shuffles back a little so that Pogue can sink down to the floor, flushed and panting, looking a little dazed as he rubs at Tyler's cheek.
***
"Here." Tyler catches the helmet on reflex, looking at it in a slightly confused way. It would be exasperating if Tyler didn't look quite so cute, but they're already late if Tyler's going to make Curfew at the Dorm. "Just put it on." Pogue glances at the sky; the threatening clouds from earlier have all but cleared, and the night is cold and clear.
He slides onto the Ducati, feeling the bone-deep satisfaction at the first purr of her engine as she starts up. Tyler's still fiddling with the straps of the helmet, and it occurs to Pogue that he's never taken Tyler on the bike before. That's an odd thought, and he tires to study the expression on Tyler's face as he drags the younger boy over and fixes the helmet safely in place. There's a nervousness there, not quite hidden by the excited flush that colours his cheeks as Pogue touches his lips lightly before shutting the visor.
Tyler's hands start out on the handle at the back of the bike, and Pogue connects the blue-tooth intercoms inside the helmets, a buzz of static before he can hear Tyler's slightly increased breathing rate.
"Lean where I lean," he instructs as he tries to start off slow, but there's a shallow corner just ahead and he picks up speed, preparing to lean the bike in a little. Tyler's hands grab franticly at his hips, pulling himself closer up behind Pogue, a gasp as Pogue eases the bike upright again, picking up more speed as they hit a long straight. "Put your hands around my waist," he instructs, trying to focus on the bike beneath him when Tyler complies, tucking himself behind Pogue until he fancies he can feel Tyler's body heat even through the two layers of leather.
Tyler's quiet, and Pogue tries to keep it slow and steady, holding smooth lines through the corners and down the straights. Tyler makes a soft noise through the comm., and Pogue slows a little more, opening his mouth to soothe him. The noise comes through again, louder this time, clearly a soft moan, despite the static in the headsets. Tyler's arms are tight around Pogue's waist still, but Tyler's leaning of his own accord, and Pogue can feel how he's tuned himself into the bike and their motion. There's a longer route back to the school, back roads that are more or less deserted at night, and Pogue takes a quick turn, kicks up a gear as he settles into the familiar pattern of twists and turns that take all of his concentration.
***
The bike purrs beneath them, perfect weave and dip through the corners and Tyler presses even closer to Pogue, finally understands how it is that Pogue can ride for hours at a time. He loves the rumble of the engine, as though the bike is living and breathing beneath them, loves how close he's pressed against Pogue's back, surrounded by leather and warmth as the wind whips around them.
It takes him a moment to realise that Pogue's slowing down, still deep in the woods, a long way from the dorms. He concentrates on keeping his balance as Pogue stops the bike and kicks the stand down. Pogue takes his helmet off slowly, shaking his hair out while Tyler's still fiddling with the catch.
"Tyler?" There's a whole world of knowing in that one little word, and Tyler feels himself blush beetroot as he finally gets the helmet off, glad that it's too dark for Pogue to see. He slides stiffly off the back of the bike, suddenly needing the space. He's always had a thing for Pogue, especially in his leathers, but it was one thing for him to know it, another thing entirely for Pogue to have discovered his fixation.
His legs are a little shaky, and he's not sure what he planned to do now that he's off the bike, trying to ignore the way Pogue sprawls back a little, studying him.
"C'mere." Pogue holds out one hand, and Tyler goes towards him automatically, bites down on his lower lip when Pogue's fingers curl around his hip to drag him closer. He pats his knee, and Tyler is confused, trying to figure out the logistics of sitting in Pogue's knee when Pogue is already straddling the bike. Pogue solves the problem by half-pulling, half-lifting until Tyler is sat in his lap, straddling Pogue, backwards on the bike.
"I think you've got a bit of a thing for my bike Ty." He catches Tyler's face in his hands, stroking Tyler's cheek bones with his thumbs when Tyler tries to squirm away, leaning into the kiss non-the-less. Pogue kisses him slowly, tilting Tyler's head back and lapping lightly at the seam of Tyler's lips until he relents and opens his mouth. He'd forgotten just how Pogue can just take him apart.
"Maybe," he admits, "I have a bit of a thing."
Pogue just chuckles, hands deftly undoing the zip on Tyler's jacket and sliding beneath it, running up and down his back. He's been half-hard since Pogue first started the bike, and he arches into the touch, shifting to press closer, rocking just a little against the smooth metal of the bike beneath him.
"A bit of a thing?" Pogue's fingers skitter under the waistband of Tyler's jeans, teasing lightly at the skin there as Tyler moans, head falling back a little. He shifts some more, writhing when Pogue finally unzips his fly, cool air contrasting with the heat of Pogue's hand stroking the shaft.
"Mmm, more than a bit?" Words are difficult, and Tyler presses his hips up, seeking more contact, almost missing the flash of mischief that crosses Pogue's face.
"Hmm." There's a flash of Power, his and Pogue's clothes melting away into a heap at their feet, all but for Pogue's leather jacket, draped over Tyler like a cloak, leaching heat into his skin. He squirms as Pogue's slick fingers slip beneath him, easing into Tyler's hole as Pogue's other hand strokes up and down Tyler's spine beneath the heavy jacket.
The pressure builds steadily, heat coiling in Tyler's stomach and spreading slowly in a flush across his skin until he's a mess of want and need and...
"Pogue!" The word comes out as more of a groan, and Tyler arches away from the teasing fingers, gripping hard on Pogue's shoulders and finding purchase on the footrest as he slides closer, stroking Pogue's cock and whimpering in anticipation. Pogue's hands wrap around his thighs, lifting him, positioning him with a soft grunt of effort.
Tyler bites down into his lip, drops his head to Pogue's shoulder as he sinks down slow, feels the delicious stretch as Pogue's cock fills him. Their breath is hot in the confined space, Pogue's eyes closed tight as he struggles to keep still, muscles bunched and quivering. Their kiss is little more than a meeting of open mouths as Tyler rises a little, flexes around Pogue's length before sinking back down again, trying to find the angle.
Pogue rises to meet his thusts, lifts his knees a little, and somehow it's just right and Tyler whimpers aloud, one hand leaving Pogue's shoulder to tug his head back down into a kiss. They set up a rhythm, a little slow to compensate for the bike, tension building slow as Tyler writhes, metal of the bike smooth under his ass, leather trapping the warmth and Pogue's scent at his back.
He's close, sliding into a world of sensation, anchoring himself to Pogue and the bike, biting into the strong shoulders that keep him steady. He arches when the bike purrs to life beneath him, vibrations rumbling into him until everything is shuddering, shaking apart around him and through him and in him, Pogue steady the whole while, coaxing as he strokes Tyler's cock, milks him through orgasm.
Tyler's bones are heavy, the jacket swamping him as he groans, cock oversensitive where Pogue's fingers trail lightly over the head. They're both panting heavily, loud over the rumble of the bike's engine, and Tyler blinks slow, tries to get it all together in his head.
Pogue Uses again to get them cleaned and dressed, but it does nothing for the shakes in Tyler's limbs, the exhaustion that steals through him. It's an effort to climb onto the back again, and he wraps himself securely around Pogue, tucks himself as close as he physically can as Pogue takes it steady back to his apartment.
"Pogue?" he says as they stow the bike for the night.
"Hmm?"
"I think maybe you've got a thing for your bike too."
FIN