Fic: Light My Fire (Bandom, Gabe/Patrick, FRAO)
Title: Light My Fire
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Bandom
Pairing: Gabe/Patrick
Rating: FRAO
Length: 1,813 words
Disclaimer: Complete and utter work of fiction. Don’t google yourself.
Summary: The most random piece of porn I have ever written. Figging.
Note: Written for bandomkinkmeme
Patrick bites his lips when he picks out the ginger root at the grocery store. It’s ridiculous; he doesn’t even blush when he buys condoms anymore. Maybe it’s because the ginger seems so innocent, waiting to go in a stir fry or something. Patrick’s sweaty fingers slip on the plastic produce back, and he can’t helping thinking about the non-innocent things he’s going to be doing to that ginger.
Or rather, that the ginger will be doing to him.
He’s twitchy and grumpy by the time he gets home. He’s been hard since the grocery store, and he hates driving with a hard-on. It’s so distracting. He’s slightly terrified that someday he’ll get into an accident because he was adjusting his dick in his pants, and that he’ll still have an erection when the paramedics arrive.
The front door to his house is already unlocked, which is nice, because that means he can slam it open without fumbling for his keys. “Next time,” he says , stomping into the kitchen, “You can buy your own damned sex toys.”
Gabe just smirks at him, leaning against the counter like he’s been waiting there for Patrick all day. “When the sex toys are for me, I will,” he says. “But this one is all for you, isn’t it?”
Patrick huffs. “If it’s all for me, I don’t really need you then, do I?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
Gabe keeps smirking, but there’s a new seriousness in his eyes when he replies. “If you don’t need me, I can go.” There’s a twinge of unease in Patrick’s stomach, and some of it must show in his face, because Gabe nods to himself. “In fact, I think you should ask me to stay.”
Patrick can feel a blush creeping up the back of his neck, and he ducks his head so that the brim of his hat blocks his view of Gabe’s face. “Stay?” he asks simply.
One of the best things about Gabe is, he never makes Patrick beg unless he knows Patrick is in the mood for it. “I will,” Gabe tells him. He reaches out and curls a finger under Patrick’s chin, lifting it until their eyes meet. “Go to the bedroom and get yourself ready.” He pulls the plastic bag from Patrick’s hand. “And I’ll get this ready.”
Patrick goes. The bedroom seems farther away than usual, and he strains to hear the sounds from the kitchen, to hear if Gabe’s gotten out a knife yet. He makes himself stop listening and focus on what he needs to do, himself. He strips his clothes off and folds them neatly on a chair, setting his hat on top of the pile. Naked, he takes a deep breath and goes into the bathroom to finish preparing.
He tries not to look at himself in the mirror as he washes himself, but he can’t help catching glimpses. Sometimes he’s shocked that he still looks so young, but at times like this, with his head and his body and his desires bared, he thinks he looks his age. He finishes as quickly as he can; he wants to be on the bed before Gabe gets here.
They don’t go in for dramatics much (any more than Gabe’s everyday, normal dramatics) so Patrick doesn’t bother kneeling. He climbs onto the bed and stretches himself out on his back. Frankly, leaving his body wide open like this is more a show of trust and submission than any other posture could be.
When Gabe appears in the doorway, Patrick tenses, feeling Gabe’s gaze on his skin. “Good,” Gabe says, and Patrick shivers.
Gabe walks slowly over to the bed and places a hand on Patrick’s ankle. The other hand is holding the peeled and shaped ginger root, and Patrick can’t help staring at it. He can smell it from here, sharp and sweet. “You still want this?” Gabe asks. Patrick nods, and Gabe clucks his tongue. “You can do better than that. Do you still want this?”
“Yes,” Patrick answers, his voice quiet and low. “Please.”
Gabe smiles at him, wide and without a hint of smirk. “That’s good,” he says. “Because I want to give it to you.” He uses his grip on Patrick’s ankle to shift his legs further apart, then crawls up on the bed between them. Patrick is already hard, and it makes him blush again, knowing how completely obvious it is.
Gabe sits back on his haunches between Patrick’s spread legs. “You look good like this,” he says warmly. He runs a familiar hand over Patrick’s shank, just casual.”I like knowing that you let me see you this way. That you want me to see you this way.”
Patrick holds himself still under Gabe’s hand, because he does. He does want.
Gabe shoves gently until Patrick pulls his knees up, spreading himself wide open. He gets an approving nod in return. Gabe strokes up the insides of Patrick’s thighs, smiling when they quiver, and ghosts his fingers over Patrick’s cock in the lightest, most teasing of touches. “You brought me something to use on you,” Gabe says. His voice is steady, but when Patrick risks a look, his eyes are sharp. “What do you want me to do with it?”
Patrick has to lick his lips before he can talk, and he sees Gabe’s eyes eager on his mouth as he does. “Fuck me?”
“I can do that,” Gabe says almost proudly. “I can fuck you until you feel like you’re burning up inside. Does that sound good?”
Patrick nods. If it’s a little frantic, no one has to know but them.
Gabe grins at him and teases the ginger lightly, right around Patrick’s hole. “Out loud,” he insists.
“Yes. Yes that sounds good.”
Gabe pulls the ginger away and leans forward, sliding two long fingers between Patrick’s lips even as they part to protest. “Just a little,” Gabe says. “I want you to feel all kinds of burn.” Patrick sucks at Gabe’s fingers, a little sloppy and eager, until Gabe takes them away and settles back between Patrick’s legs.
Gabe presses both fingers into Patrick at once, and Patrick can’t helping arching, pushing himself down on those long fingers. Gabe shakes his head, though, and slides his fingers back out. “Another time,” he says, his voice rich with promise, “I’m going to fingerfuck you until you scream. But that’s not what we’re doing tonight.”
He doesn’t give any warning, and he doesn’t allow Patrick any more prep. He just pushes the carved ginger root right into Patrick’s ass, guiding it in by the wide handle he’d left at the base. There’s a moment where it feels cool and awkward, and Patrick shifts minutely on the bedspread. And then he feels it.
It’s just a mild warmth. Tingly, but not as much as, say, a blowjob with Altoids. Patrick likes it, though, likes the way even this mild heat sends little zings of sensation through his body. Gabe twists the ginger and says, “That’s it. Now clench tight until I say when.”
Patrick obeys without thinking, and the heat starts to build. It’s a prickling burning, and he clenches even tighter, welcoming it. He’s breathing hard when Gabe tells him to stop.
“Good,” Gabe says, stroking the backs of his knuckles over Patrick’s balls like he’s petting them. “Good.” He pumps the ginger in and out, staring down at where it enters Patrick’s body. Patrick wonders how it looks. He wonders if he could make himself look if Gabe brought a mirror with him next time.
“We’re going longer this time,” Gabe tells him. Any other time, Patrick would call him on that ‘we,’ but right now he can barely think, much less talk.
Gabe pushes the root in deeper. It gets wider near the base, and the stretch adds a new dimension to the burn. Patrick clenches himself tight around it when Gabe tells him to, and fuck. Fuck. It’s like fire, sizzling right up inside him. His fingers dig into the bedspread and his knees shake where they’re spread on either side of Gabe’s hips.
He gets lost after that. Lost in the rhythm, the easy obedience of clenching and loosening when Gabe says, letting his voice become Patrick’s only guide. Lost in the sensation coursing through him, like his blood is one fire. It hurts so good, and his cock throbs in time with the pain. It’s getting stronger all the time, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Finally, Gabe wraps his free hand around Patrick’s cock and pumps it lazily. “If you can hold out one more time,” he says. “Hold it tight one more time until I say to stop, then I’ll let you come.”
Patrick nods, and he’s so fucking grateful that Gabe doesn’t make him voice his answer out loud. He doesn’t know if he could, because his mouth is making high, helpless noises. Gabe says, “Now,” and Patrick clenches his ass as tight as he can around the fiery, stinging pain. He’s panting now, his whole body shaking, and he can’t make it stop no matter how hard he tries. All he can do is hold on, hold on, hold on, digging his heels and fingertips into the bed in a desperate bid for control.
Just when he thinks he’s going to yell or cry or jerk away from Gabe, Gabe says, “Now.” He’s tugging at Patrick’s cock even as Patrick relaxes his tight squeeze around the ginger, jerking him rough and fast, and Patrick is grateful. It’s just a fucking handjob, but it feels so good, adding to and distracting from the burn in his ass.
Patrick can feel his orgasm rushing toward him, like every stroke of Gabe’s hand is a stepping stone bringing it closer. His hips thrust mindlessly up to meet Gabe’s hand, and the noises from his throat are getting louder and louder. When he finally comes, it’s hot and clean, a different kind of fire, and he only wants to let it burn him up.
He drifts through the aftershocks and almost doesn’t notice Gabe sliding the ginger out of him. When he feels the last bit of it leaving, though, he can’t help but whimper. He’s still burning, but now he’s empty.
He swallows and makes his finger release their handfuls of bedspread. “Are you going to fuck me now?” he asks, his voice loose and drunk.
Gabe raises an eyebrow and rubs a hand over the erection that’s clearly outlined by his pants. “And get ginger all over my cock?” He shakes his head mockingly and starts to shuffle up the bed toward Patrick’s head. Patrick opens his mouth before Gabe even unzips, and Gabe smiles. “Good,” he says. "You're so hot."
Patrick twists against mattress, his body still thrumming. He knows he is.
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Bandom
Pairing: Gabe/Patrick
Rating: FRAO
Length: 1,813 words
Disclaimer: Complete and utter work of fiction. Don’t google yourself.
Summary: The most random piece of porn I have ever written. Figging.
Note: Written for bandomkinkmeme
Patrick bites his lips when he picks out the ginger root at the grocery store. It’s ridiculous; he doesn’t even blush when he buys condoms anymore. Maybe it’s because the ginger seems so innocent, waiting to go in a stir fry or something. Patrick’s sweaty fingers slip on the plastic produce back, and he can’t helping thinking about the non-innocent things he’s going to be doing to that ginger.
Or rather, that the ginger will be doing to him.
He’s twitchy and grumpy by the time he gets home. He’s been hard since the grocery store, and he hates driving with a hard-on. It’s so distracting. He’s slightly terrified that someday he’ll get into an accident because he was adjusting his dick in his pants, and that he’ll still have an erection when the paramedics arrive.
The front door to his house is already unlocked, which is nice, because that means he can slam it open without fumbling for his keys. “Next time,” he says , stomping into the kitchen, “You can buy your own damned sex toys.”
Gabe just smirks at him, leaning against the counter like he’s been waiting there for Patrick all day. “When the sex toys are for me, I will,” he says. “But this one is all for you, isn’t it?”
Patrick huffs. “If it’s all for me, I don’t really need you then, do I?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
Gabe keeps smirking, but there’s a new seriousness in his eyes when he replies. “If you don’t need me, I can go.” There’s a twinge of unease in Patrick’s stomach, and some of it must show in his face, because Gabe nods to himself. “In fact, I think you should ask me to stay.”
Patrick can feel a blush creeping up the back of his neck, and he ducks his head so that the brim of his hat blocks his view of Gabe’s face. “Stay?” he asks simply.
One of the best things about Gabe is, he never makes Patrick beg unless he knows Patrick is in the mood for it. “I will,” Gabe tells him. He reaches out and curls a finger under Patrick’s chin, lifting it until their eyes meet. “Go to the bedroom and get yourself ready.” He pulls the plastic bag from Patrick’s hand. “And I’ll get this ready.”
Patrick goes. The bedroom seems farther away than usual, and he strains to hear the sounds from the kitchen, to hear if Gabe’s gotten out a knife yet. He makes himself stop listening and focus on what he needs to do, himself. He strips his clothes off and folds them neatly on a chair, setting his hat on top of the pile. Naked, he takes a deep breath and goes into the bathroom to finish preparing.
He tries not to look at himself in the mirror as he washes himself, but he can’t help catching glimpses. Sometimes he’s shocked that he still looks so young, but at times like this, with his head and his body and his desires bared, he thinks he looks his age. He finishes as quickly as he can; he wants to be on the bed before Gabe gets here.
They don’t go in for dramatics much (any more than Gabe’s everyday, normal dramatics) so Patrick doesn’t bother kneeling. He climbs onto the bed and stretches himself out on his back. Frankly, leaving his body wide open like this is more a show of trust and submission than any other posture could be.
When Gabe appears in the doorway, Patrick tenses, feeling Gabe’s gaze on his skin. “Good,” Gabe says, and Patrick shivers.
Gabe walks slowly over to the bed and places a hand on Patrick’s ankle. The other hand is holding the peeled and shaped ginger root, and Patrick can’t help staring at it. He can smell it from here, sharp and sweet. “You still want this?” Gabe asks. Patrick nods, and Gabe clucks his tongue. “You can do better than that. Do you still want this?”
“Yes,” Patrick answers, his voice quiet and low. “Please.”
Gabe smiles at him, wide and without a hint of smirk. “That’s good,” he says. “Because I want to give it to you.” He uses his grip on Patrick’s ankle to shift his legs further apart, then crawls up on the bed between them. Patrick is already hard, and it makes him blush again, knowing how completely obvious it is.
Gabe sits back on his haunches between Patrick’s spread legs. “You look good like this,” he says warmly. He runs a familiar hand over Patrick’s shank, just casual.”I like knowing that you let me see you this way. That you want me to see you this way.”
Patrick holds himself still under Gabe’s hand, because he does. He does want.
Gabe shoves gently until Patrick pulls his knees up, spreading himself wide open. He gets an approving nod in return. Gabe strokes up the insides of Patrick’s thighs, smiling when they quiver, and ghosts his fingers over Patrick’s cock in the lightest, most teasing of touches. “You brought me something to use on you,” Gabe says. His voice is steady, but when Patrick risks a look, his eyes are sharp. “What do you want me to do with it?”
Patrick has to lick his lips before he can talk, and he sees Gabe’s eyes eager on his mouth as he does. “Fuck me?”
“I can do that,” Gabe says almost proudly. “I can fuck you until you feel like you’re burning up inside. Does that sound good?”
Patrick nods. If it’s a little frantic, no one has to know but them.
Gabe grins at him and teases the ginger lightly, right around Patrick’s hole. “Out loud,” he insists.
“Yes. Yes that sounds good.”
Gabe pulls the ginger away and leans forward, sliding two long fingers between Patrick’s lips even as they part to protest. “Just a little,” Gabe says. “I want you to feel all kinds of burn.” Patrick sucks at Gabe’s fingers, a little sloppy and eager, until Gabe takes them away and settles back between Patrick’s legs.
Gabe presses both fingers into Patrick at once, and Patrick can’t helping arching, pushing himself down on those long fingers. Gabe shakes his head, though, and slides his fingers back out. “Another time,” he says, his voice rich with promise, “I’m going to fingerfuck you until you scream. But that’s not what we’re doing tonight.”
He doesn’t give any warning, and he doesn’t allow Patrick any more prep. He just pushes the carved ginger root right into Patrick’s ass, guiding it in by the wide handle he’d left at the base. There’s a moment where it feels cool and awkward, and Patrick shifts minutely on the bedspread. And then he feels it.
It’s just a mild warmth. Tingly, but not as much as, say, a blowjob with Altoids. Patrick likes it, though, likes the way even this mild heat sends little zings of sensation through his body. Gabe twists the ginger and says, “That’s it. Now clench tight until I say when.”
Patrick obeys without thinking, and the heat starts to build. It’s a prickling burning, and he clenches even tighter, welcoming it. He’s breathing hard when Gabe tells him to stop.
“Good,” Gabe says, stroking the backs of his knuckles over Patrick’s balls like he’s petting them. “Good.” He pumps the ginger in and out, staring down at where it enters Patrick’s body. Patrick wonders how it looks. He wonders if he could make himself look if Gabe brought a mirror with him next time.
“We’re going longer this time,” Gabe tells him. Any other time, Patrick would call him on that ‘we,’ but right now he can barely think, much less talk.
Gabe pushes the root in deeper. It gets wider near the base, and the stretch adds a new dimension to the burn. Patrick clenches himself tight around it when Gabe tells him to, and fuck. Fuck. It’s like fire, sizzling right up inside him. His fingers dig into the bedspread and his knees shake where they’re spread on either side of Gabe’s hips.
He gets lost after that. Lost in the rhythm, the easy obedience of clenching and loosening when Gabe says, letting his voice become Patrick’s only guide. Lost in the sensation coursing through him, like his blood is one fire. It hurts so good, and his cock throbs in time with the pain. It’s getting stronger all the time, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Finally, Gabe wraps his free hand around Patrick’s cock and pumps it lazily. “If you can hold out one more time,” he says. “Hold it tight one more time until I say to stop, then I’ll let you come.”
Patrick nods, and he’s so fucking grateful that Gabe doesn’t make him voice his answer out loud. He doesn’t know if he could, because his mouth is making high, helpless noises. Gabe says, “Now,” and Patrick clenches his ass as tight as he can around the fiery, stinging pain. He’s panting now, his whole body shaking, and he can’t make it stop no matter how hard he tries. All he can do is hold on, hold on, hold on, digging his heels and fingertips into the bed in a desperate bid for control.
Just when he thinks he’s going to yell or cry or jerk away from Gabe, Gabe says, “Now.” He’s tugging at Patrick’s cock even as Patrick relaxes his tight squeeze around the ginger, jerking him rough and fast, and Patrick is grateful. It’s just a fucking handjob, but it feels so good, adding to and distracting from the burn in his ass.
Patrick can feel his orgasm rushing toward him, like every stroke of Gabe’s hand is a stepping stone bringing it closer. His hips thrust mindlessly up to meet Gabe’s hand, and the noises from his throat are getting louder and louder. When he finally comes, it’s hot and clean, a different kind of fire, and he only wants to let it burn him up.
He drifts through the aftershocks and almost doesn’t notice Gabe sliding the ginger out of him. When he feels the last bit of it leaving, though, he can’t help but whimper. He’s still burning, but now he’s empty.
He swallows and makes his finger release their handfuls of bedspread. “Are you going to fuck me now?” he asks, his voice loose and drunk.
Gabe raises an eyebrow and rubs a hand over the erection that’s clearly outlined by his pants. “And get ginger all over my cock?” He shakes his head mockingly and starts to shuffle up the bed toward Patrick’s head. Patrick opens his mouth before Gabe even unzips, and Gabe smiles. “Good,” he says. "You're so hot."
Patrick twists against mattress, his body still thrumming. He knows he is.