Two Cookmann quickies
Title: Winner Takes All
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/Neal Tiemann
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third, Neal-centric
Summary: Cook and Neal wrestle. Sort of.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or Neal Tiemann and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events.
Author Notes: I wrote this in one of the cookleta_etc DP's... Anyway it needed a proper home.
Warnings: Porn (is that even a warning when you see fic from me?)
Word Count: 984
It's not exactly a phenomena to see Dave and Neal grappling on the floor like children, rolling and wrestling as they fight for the advantage and try to pin each other. It usually starts with Neal trying to make a point and poking Dave to get his attention, and then Dave will pout (that baby) and whine and shove Neal a couple of steps, and then Neal will try to get him into a headlock, and it just ends up with them pulling hair and yelping until one or the other gives.
It's never been sexual before, although they've done that bit too. (They've done slow, deep fucking until Neal can't take it any more and snaps at Dave to move it or lose it, and they've done dirty handjobs slicked with spit, mouths wide open and hot and not kissing, just sharing panting breaths. Neal's fucked David on the tour bus, in hotels, in their house, on the table, on the fucking floor and once, memorably, on the ninth tee. Sex is not a stranger to them.)
But Neal just happens to get the upper hand in this particular tussle, shoving Dave's back flat against the floor and straddling his thighs heavily to keep him from squirming. When Dave tries to lift himself up, Neal slaps his chest with both open palms, inspiring an 'oof' from the other man as he collapsed back down.
"Ow," David whines, and Neal smirks.
"Suck it up," he says, shifting back so even more of his weight is pressing down on Dave, pinning him thoroughly. He looks at Dave's face, at his naughty smile, and purses his lips.
"I will if you let me up," David says lowly, lowering his lashes so his eyes go all smoky and alluring. His smirk has blown into a full on grin, which sort of ruins the whole 'seduction' or whatever, but a blowjob sounds pretty damn good right now.
"I don't have to let you up," Neal says in return, and doesn't hesitate to take unbuckle his belt. He's popping the buttons on his jeans free and tugging his cock out before he knows it; he's not fully hard, but it's definitely getting interested. It's hard not to get interested when David Cook's got that look on his face, where all his attention is zoned into one thing, and he's hungry and wanting and - it's a heady rush, and his dick stiffens a little more as he strokes it.
"Open," he demands, and scoots forward until he's sort of sitting on Dave's chest, tilting his hips down until his cock makes contact with the other man's face.
Dave cranes his neck and opens up obediently, eagerly, and Neal feels that hot curl of satisfaction low in his belly, the one that makes him smug with the knowledge that right here, right now, he could do anything he wanted to do to Dave, and he would just take it. Needless to say, it's a good fucking feeling.
Neal frames David's face in his hands, his rough palms scraping against Dave's stubble, rubbing his thumb over the stretch of Dave's cheek as he feeds him his cock. He groans, loud, at the wet hot heat of Dave's mouth and how he sucks immediately, like he can't get enough of Neal's cock.
"That's it," he mutters, and lets one hand slide back into Dave's hair, cradling his head so his neck isn't so strained as he slowly moves his hips forward and back, watching as his erection disappears between David's hungry lips. It's kind of hard to look away, actually, as he sinks in deep and stays there, watching as Dave's eyes start to water, his mouth stretched almost painfully around the base of Neal's cock, and he can feel Dave's tongue undulate against him and, fuck, he pulls out as slow as he can, shaking a little from the effort.
Dave sucks in a breath when Neal pulls out for a moment, his eyes a little wet but glazed with arousal, spit slicking his lips and making them shiny and completely irresistible. He looks up at Neal desperately, his hands clutching at Neal's ass, fingers digging into the muscle.
"Let me fuck you Neal, c'mon, please, let me fuck you," he begs, rubbing his mouth against the crown of Neal's dick, running his tongue along the flared head and looking up with those fucking eyes.
"No fucking way," Neal growls and grabs Dave's jaw, forcing it open, snapping his hips forward maybe a little brutally. "Suck, you fucker, c'mon, suck it," he continues, and hisses when David does, bobbing his head the best he can and sucking like a goddamn hoover. He looks like a completely slut, his hair fucked up from Neal's hands grabbing at it, his lips puffy and round and sucking cock like he was fucking made for it.
"Shit," Neal swears, and Dave pulls off, but only to lick and kiss at Neal's balls, paying them the same sort of attention that he had just been lavishing his cock with. "Fuck! I'm going to-"
"Yeah, c'mon, fucking, come on my face, Neal, Neal, c'mon-" Dave says, his voice raspy and that's cock-voice, that's dick-sucking hoarseness, and jesus fucking christ-
Neal comes all over Dave's face, one hand fisted in Dave's hair, tilting his head back, the other jerking his cock rough and fast until he's worn out and breathing heavily, staring at the result painted across his best friend's face. Dave just laughs, breathlessly, and leans forward to lick his cock clean.
"Jesus," Neal mumbles, and sits heavily on Dave's hips, the not-so-subtle bulge of the other man's erection nudging insistently at his ass. "You're fucking good at that."
Dave laughs again. "I've had some practice," he teases, and then leans forward and shoves Neal off of him, and onto the ground.
"Okay, my turn, asshole."
Title: David Cook Can't Cook
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/Neal Tiemann
Rating: PG
POV: Third, Cook-centric
Summary: Only David Cook could fuck up this badly.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or Neal Tiemann and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events.
Author Notes: Another comment fic for a DP. :3
Warnings: Uhhh none.
Word Count: ~200
Neal glares at his dinner.
Or, really, his "dinner," because the quotations are very much fucking required.
This is all Dave's fault anyway. He should have known they had no food, and he should have known to go shopping, because - when the hell does Neal ever go shopping? Or he should have at least gotten some cash at the ATM like a fucking adult instead of emptying his stupidly tight jean pockets and turning up like, fifty three cents. (To be fair, Neal only had a crumpled dollar, two dimes, twelve guitar picks, and lint in his pockets.)
So, anyway, Neal managed to find some ramen noodles in the back of their cupboards, because apparently they still live like college freshmen.
It would have been fine, too, if Dave hadn't managed to completely fuck up cooking the ramen.
But, Dave was Dave and managed to do the impossible, and fuck up a fucking three step program, where two of the steps involve unwrapping the ramen and putting it in the fucking microwave, so now Neal is sitting here, eating soggy ramen and Dave isn't getting laid for like a week.
(Or, whatever, two days. Until he buys real fucking food, at least.)
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/Neal Tiemann
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third, Neal-centric
Summary: Cook and Neal wrestle. Sort of.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or Neal Tiemann and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events.
Author Notes: I wrote this in one of the cookleta_etc DP's... Anyway it needed a proper home.
Warnings: Porn (is that even a warning when you see fic from me?)
Word Count: 984
It's not exactly a phenomena to see Dave and Neal grappling on the floor like children, rolling and wrestling as they fight for the advantage and try to pin each other. It usually starts with Neal trying to make a point and poking Dave to get his attention, and then Dave will pout (that baby) and whine and shove Neal a couple of steps, and then Neal will try to get him into a headlock, and it just ends up with them pulling hair and yelping until one or the other gives.
It's never been sexual before, although they've done that bit too. (They've done slow, deep fucking until Neal can't take it any more and snaps at Dave to move it or lose it, and they've done dirty handjobs slicked with spit, mouths wide open and hot and not kissing, just sharing panting breaths. Neal's fucked David on the tour bus, in hotels, in their house, on the table, on the fucking floor and once, memorably, on the ninth tee. Sex is not a stranger to them.)
But Neal just happens to get the upper hand in this particular tussle, shoving Dave's back flat against the floor and straddling his thighs heavily to keep him from squirming. When Dave tries to lift himself up, Neal slaps his chest with both open palms, inspiring an 'oof' from the other man as he collapsed back down.
"Ow," David whines, and Neal smirks.
"Suck it up," he says, shifting back so even more of his weight is pressing down on Dave, pinning him thoroughly. He looks at Dave's face, at his naughty smile, and purses his lips.
"I will if you let me up," David says lowly, lowering his lashes so his eyes go all smoky and alluring. His smirk has blown into a full on grin, which sort of ruins the whole 'seduction' or whatever, but a blowjob sounds pretty damn good right now.
"I don't have to let you up," Neal says in return, and doesn't hesitate to take unbuckle his belt. He's popping the buttons on his jeans free and tugging his cock out before he knows it; he's not fully hard, but it's definitely getting interested. It's hard not to get interested when David Cook's got that look on his face, where all his attention is zoned into one thing, and he's hungry and wanting and - it's a heady rush, and his dick stiffens a little more as he strokes it.
"Open," he demands, and scoots forward until he's sort of sitting on Dave's chest, tilting his hips down until his cock makes contact with the other man's face.
Dave cranes his neck and opens up obediently, eagerly, and Neal feels that hot curl of satisfaction low in his belly, the one that makes him smug with the knowledge that right here, right now, he could do anything he wanted to do to Dave, and he would just take it. Needless to say, it's a good fucking feeling.
Neal frames David's face in his hands, his rough palms scraping against Dave's stubble, rubbing his thumb over the stretch of Dave's cheek as he feeds him his cock. He groans, loud, at the wet hot heat of Dave's mouth and how he sucks immediately, like he can't get enough of Neal's cock.
"That's it," he mutters, and lets one hand slide back into Dave's hair, cradling his head so his neck isn't so strained as he slowly moves his hips forward and back, watching as his erection disappears between David's hungry lips. It's kind of hard to look away, actually, as he sinks in deep and stays there, watching as Dave's eyes start to water, his mouth stretched almost painfully around the base of Neal's cock, and he can feel Dave's tongue undulate against him and, fuck, he pulls out as slow as he can, shaking a little from the effort.
Dave sucks in a breath when Neal pulls out for a moment, his eyes a little wet but glazed with arousal, spit slicking his lips and making them shiny and completely irresistible. He looks up at Neal desperately, his hands clutching at Neal's ass, fingers digging into the muscle.
"Let me fuck you Neal, c'mon, please, let me fuck you," he begs, rubbing his mouth against the crown of Neal's dick, running his tongue along the flared head and looking up with those fucking eyes.
"No fucking way," Neal growls and grabs Dave's jaw, forcing it open, snapping his hips forward maybe a little brutally. "Suck, you fucker, c'mon, suck it," he continues, and hisses when David does, bobbing his head the best he can and sucking like a goddamn hoover. He looks like a completely slut, his hair fucked up from Neal's hands grabbing at it, his lips puffy and round and sucking cock like he was fucking made for it.
"Shit," Neal swears, and Dave pulls off, but only to lick and kiss at Neal's balls, paying them the same sort of attention that he had just been lavishing his cock with. "Fuck! I'm going to-"
"Yeah, c'mon, fucking, come on my face, Neal, Neal, c'mon-" Dave says, his voice raspy and that's cock-voice, that's dick-sucking hoarseness, and jesus fucking christ-
Neal comes all over Dave's face, one hand fisted in Dave's hair, tilting his head back, the other jerking his cock rough and fast until he's worn out and breathing heavily, staring at the result painted across his best friend's face. Dave just laughs, breathlessly, and leans forward to lick his cock clean.
"Jesus," Neal mumbles, and sits heavily on Dave's hips, the not-so-subtle bulge of the other man's erection nudging insistently at his ass. "You're fucking good at that."
Dave laughs again. "I've had some practice," he teases, and then leans forward and shoves Neal off of him, and onto the ground.
"Okay, my turn, asshole."
Title: David Cook Can't Cook
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/Neal Tiemann
Rating: PG
POV: Third, Cook-centric
Summary: Only David Cook could fuck up this badly.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or Neal Tiemann and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events.
Author Notes: Another comment fic for a DP. :3
Warnings: Uhhh none.
Word Count: ~200
Neal glares at his dinner.
Or, really, his "dinner," because the quotations are very much fucking required.
This is all Dave's fault anyway. He should have known they had no food, and he should have known to go shopping, because - when the hell does Neal ever go shopping? Or he should have at least gotten some cash at the ATM like a fucking adult instead of emptying his stupidly tight jean pockets and turning up like, fifty three cents. (To be fair, Neal only had a crumpled dollar, two dimes, twelve guitar picks, and lint in his pockets.)
So, anyway, Neal managed to find some ramen noodles in the back of their cupboards, because apparently they still live like college freshmen.
It would have been fine, too, if Dave hadn't managed to completely fuck up cooking the ramen.
But, Dave was Dave and managed to do the impossible, and fuck up a fucking three step program, where two of the steps involve unwrapping the ramen and putting it in the fucking microwave, so now Neal is sitting here, eating soggy ramen and Dave isn't getting laid for like a week.
(Or, whatever, two days. Until he buys real fucking food, at least.)