All of My Love (5/7)
Title: All of My Love
Author: sevenphalanges
Part: 5/7
Pairing: Pones
Rating: Hard R
Warning: You just stopped at Blow Job Central, baby! ;D
Summary: What happens in Danny's bedroom, stays in Danny's bedroom.
Word Count: 2,412
Notes: This took way to damn long to update, and for that I apologize. But it's up now, and you all can have a fangirlish fit over it. <3 'Cause you know you will.
Disclaimer: Lies, lies and slanderrr. D:
There was just something in the way he moved, the way he carried himself that I knew I would never be able to get over. I could spend the rest of forever with him, and I knew I would always be so taken a back at he constantly stumbled over himself, but always seemed to stick the landing. Forever, I would be captivated, and I suppose I was okay with that.
The day I realized that I actually had somewhat of a solid chance with Danny started out like any other: I slammed my first down hard onto my alarm clock for the seventh time that morning, and everyone else was finally starting to get sick of hearing it beep every ten minutes. A fist found it's way onto my door, pounding ridiculously hard. It wasn't a request to come in. It was one of the guys saying, "Dougie, seriously. Get the hell up." I looked over at the clock that read in blinding red light, 12:33PM. Success, for yet another day, I held my record of not being up before noon.
It had been a week since laser tag; a solid week since I'd had any sort of physical contact with Danny. Call me desperate, but after I'd had a taste of him, all I wanted was more, more, more. Hell, everytime I saw him it took everything I had not to demand him to drop his pants on the spot. It began to get extremely aggrivating when he'd purposely find ways to tease me, ways to send me completely overboard, ways to make me lock myself in my bedroom for an hour doing exactly what you think. For the first day and a half of the lustful glances and the image of Danny touching himself as I watched him, when Tom and Harry had looked the other way, I thought I could handle it. I mean, it was only simple teasing, right? I could totally handle it, but I couldn't handle it, not in the slightest. After that long, torturous week, I could feel myself snapping.
I tried preparing myself before I went downstairs, but no amount of preparation could ever prevent the lovesick, tummy-tightening feeling I always got when I saw him. I hopped off the last step casually and marched past the couch as quickly as I could without making it look obvious that I was trying to avoid him, which I was. Oh god, how I was. I thought I'd nearly made it when I'd reached the sanctuary of the kitchen without him on my tail, but I rejoiced too early.
"So," Danny articulated from where he stood in the doorway. I ignored him to the best of my abilities and opened the refrigerator, trying to focus more on my hunger rather than the smirk I saw on his face, "when are we gonna talk about this?"
"Talk about what?" I asked, my head neck deep in search for food.
Feeling his eyes on me, I heard him stroll into the room and lift himself up onto the counter, which was something Tom hated. If Tom ever caught you sitting on the counter, look out. He leaves bruises. Danny started kicking his feet against the cabinets below him and it quickly started to ride on my nerves.
"About how you lost at laser tag."
I straightened up to retaliate, but only managed to slam the back of my head into the top of the refrigerator. With a few grunts from fading pain, I carefully stood up, glaring at him from across the room as I rubbed the top of my scalp. "About how I lost? If I remember correctly, you lost, too."
With my glare intensifying, I stood there silently, watching him hold in laughter. My pain wasn't funny. I mean, sometimes it was, but this time it wasn't. After a few seconds, Danny composed himself and cocked an eyebrow, staring right back at me.
"I did. But that's not what I meant." Of course that's not what he meant. I was just trying to steer the conversation away from the pressing issue of how much we both clearly liked our faces smashed together. Reluctantly, I made the mistake of peeking at him quickly as I thought of something to say. My peeking, however, turned into full-on staring, and I couldn't help but wonder how long I'd been staring at a shirtless Danny before he finally cleared his throat.
I tossed him a scowl and closed the refrigerator door with my heel, "I know what you're talking about," I said and made my way out of the kitchen, "and we're not talking about it."
It wasn't until I was halfway up the stairs that Danny caught up with me, and when he did, it didn't take me long to realize that the longer I stayed around him, the larger risk I had of him giving me a problem to deal with. When I got to the top of the stairs, my socked feet slipping on the carpet as I rushed to beat Danny, it wasn't long before my back was against the wall, and he had my arms pinned to my sides, beating my chances of escape half to death. I could feel it; I could feel my insides starting to melt, my blood rushing around frankly in my body, all heading for one specific place. Shit.
"Why aren't we talking about it?"
His face was close to mine, in both a good and bad way; good, because, to be quite honest, his closeness was making me hard; bad, because his closeness was making me hard. His breath cascaded over my neck, turning my skin cold with goose bumps, as he spoke. Why did he have to do this, honestly? I didn't even know where Tom and Harry were, and I didn't want to risk having to explain the pistol in my pocket. I could just picture it, the most awkward moment in all of history ever. "What's that in your pants, Dougie?" Oh, you know, Danny starting molesting me into the wall and then you guys showed up. Just the usual.
"Because I said so," I retorted, as a struggled against his hold on me. I'm not a weakling; I never have been, but Danny and two times more not a weakling, and that served as a huge problem. After a minute of struggling, I glared up at him. "Let go, Jones. Or I'll yell rape."
A smirk slithered onto his face, and his lips were suddenly dangerously close to mine.
"It's not rape if you like it, Poynter."
...Well, I mean, he did have a point. I inhaled deeply as I stared at him and contemplated. To bone, or not to bone, that was the seriously fucked up question. Danny was my best mate, as I'd told myself millions upon millions of times in my head; I didn't want to mess this up. I didn't want to mess the band up if, Lord help us all, Tom or Harry found out. I can't imagine they'd spontaneously hate us out of nowhere, but I can't imagine they'd jump on the homosexual band wagon so quickly. Though, come to think of it, Tom might, but that's a completely different story.
Danny raised his eyebrows as he stared right back at me, as if silently asking me the answer to my own silent question. Shutting my eyes tight, I made up my mind, and crushed my lips to his, hard. Just like before, when our lips met, my insides gave way, melting into one giant blob of muck inside of me. It didn't take him long to respond, his mouth working against mine feverishly as he found his hands suctioned to my body. They were cold, like a doctor's, but I ignored it, and my arms found their way around Danny's neck; my hands into his hair. I felt him close the space between our bodies, and suddenly, I realized that I liked the feeling of being trapped by him.
He smirked against my lips, a dark chuckle falling from his own.
"You're hard."
I huffed in annoyance and made my best effort to shove him off, which isn't saying much. "You're fault."
"I'm not complaining."
And then his mouth was against mine, his tongue prying at my lips, begging for entry. I sighed weakly, officially declaring my insides as mush, and granted him the access he so clearly wanted. There was no struggle for dominance as Danny explored his new territory, his hands finding their way to more sensitive areas. Even through my boxers and jeans, I was sure it was no secret just how easily I could be manipulated. His tongue lapped over mine, and all I could think was more, more, more. My fingers wove themselves into his hair, tugging ever so gently as I tried as non-chalantly as possible to push my groin harder into his hand.
When he pulled away, I emitted a noise I thought only pre-pubescent girls could make, and felt a scornful pout come over my face. "Now why - why did you deem that necessary?"
All Danny seemed to be able to do was smirk. Smirk. He took hold of my hand and pulled me along down the hallway, a twinkle of the same lustful glow from before shining in his eyes. "Stop being such a girl and c'mon." I thought to insult him back, but I found myself lacking the mental ability to form a substancial sentence when I saw where he was dragging me. I looked up at him with wide eyes, seeing that his smirk hadn't faltered in the slightest. With a wink that made my stomach tingle, Danny turned the knob on his bedroom door and pushed it open, extending his arm.
"Ladies first."
I punched him in the shoulder, earning myself a grunt from Danny before walking in.
"Funny."
I heard the door shut behind me, and I couldn't help but jump at everything's sudden loudness: the door closing, Danny's socked feet walking on the carpet. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed the side of my neck, eliciting another girlish groan from me. I felt his wicked smirk against my skin as he spoke, "Sit on the bed."
Swallowing hard, I did as I was told. What's the worst that could happen? I dropped onto Danny's matress, the smooth, cold silk sheets, molding between my fingers as I clutched them. Pink. Very manly. My throat suddenly felt dry as I watched Danny drop to his knees and slither between my legs; he fit between them perfectly. He reached up, placing a hand on my cheek, and pulled me down into a hard kiss.
"Relax."
Relax? Yeah, okay. His belittling smirk still resided on his lips as his hands maneuvered themselves up my shirt. They were still cold like a doctor's. I laced my fingers back into his hair, and wove them in tightly, bracing myself. No amount of bracing, however, could prepare me for the way my stomach dropped when I felt and saw him unfasten my belt. This was happening. This was seriously happening, and I didn't know whether I was happy, or deahtly fucking afraid.
He looked up at me with a look I couldn't really read, and he touched his lips to mine softly, "It's okay," he whispered, and it was. Danny kissed the skin above my boxers as he pulled them down, along with my trousers, and I gasped quietly as he got closer and closer...
The cold air of Danny's room bit at my skin like frostbite, and that irrationally worried me, but it was nothing compared to the way I felt when his lips were inches, centimetres, from the tip of my cock. Still, as he closed the remaining space by pressing his lips gently to me, a smirk still sat happily on his face. I let out a strangled sigh, the simple contact driving my anticipation and fear skyward. He seemed to notice as he made eye contact with me, and placed his hand on my hip carefully, like he was trying to tell me once again that it was okay. I closed my eyes and tried to process his silent words of reassurance, but before I could wrap my entire mind around them, his mouth was around me.
With wide eyes and teeth sunk harshly into my bottom lip, I stared down at him, trying my best not to make any sort of audible sound, in fear that Tom or Harry would hear - wherever they were - and would come to investigate. That was the last thing in all of ever that I wanted.
Danny's free hand found it's way to the base of my cock, pumping gently in rhythm with his slowly bobbing head. God, his mouth was so hot. All I could process was the feel of it, the slickness, the... the tongue I felt running along the underside of me, causing me to throw my head back. Why was he so good at this? Why was he so... so... I began to notice I was pulling at Danny's hair, hard. He didn't seem to mind, and probably took it as a good sign, considering the fact that his lips formed a tighter "O" shape, and his head rised and fell quicker. All I could remember thinking was where is God's name did he learn this?
I knew something bad was going to happen with I felt my lower tummy tighten. This could only mean one thing, and since the man was gracious enough to give me a blow job in the first place, I figured I at least owed it to him to warn him. "D-Danny," I forced the words out, "I'm c-... I'm coming..."
With a silent understanding, his stroking quickened and his mouth tightened and his teeth glided and I couldn't handle it anymore. I came hard, and was shocked when Danny didn't pull his mouth off me until I was finished. I swallowed hard, and after he finally did pull away, so did he. It was then that we just stared at each other, and something silent was passed between us. We made an inaudible agreement.
"So," I knew I was flushed; my cheeks felt like they were on fire, "thanks. Thanks for that."
Danny simply smiled widely, and pressed him lips to mine carefully. "Anytime."