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[fill] in other words 4/~5 [Chris/Dustin, NSFW]

[anonymous]

First time ever writing smut; please be nice.

But Chris's mouth is open and he gasps softly into Dustin's mouth and his hand was on Dustin's knee squeezing a little too hard to be comforting. And then-oh-Chris touches his tongue to Dustin's lower lip and all of a sudden Dustin is the one with his mouth open, gasping like an idiot.

"You idiot," Chris says, pulling away a fraction of a breath, "I've been wanting to do that for years."

Dustin is, he decides, just a little too tipsy to talk, so he pushes forward through that last little bit of space and kisses Chris again, harder this time, with purpose. Chris seems pleased with that, bunching his hands in Dustin's t-shirt and pulling them both down horizontally on the couch.

Dustin is actually lying on the couch on top of Chris and they are seriously making out, and have been for … a while. Gauging the passing of time is really hard when he’s touching Chris’s anything. He's also pretty sure he's dreaming.

Chris is nipping at Dustin's jaw and rubbing his hands over Dustin's back and-Jesus motherfucking Christ-his ass and Dustin is so turned on it's taking a lot of willpower not to spontaneously combust right this instant.

Instead, he rolls his hips just a tiny bit-and Chris makes this choked noise, like maybe he’s having to try just as hard as Dustin is to not just die from wanting. The idea that Chris might be as into this as he is (and he is really, disgustingly into it) doesn’t help with Dustin’s attempts to not make a complete fool of himself.

He tries thinking about something completely not sexy, not even a little bit, like the hygienic state of the suite back at Kirkland but then his oxygen-deprived, kiss-addled brain remembers playing video games and Chris’s obscenely attractive hands wrapped around an Xbox controller, which immediately reminds him that those hands are currently tracing up and down his back under his shirt. He shudders a little, feels Chris’s fingers drag across his spine like they’re leaving visible trails across his skin.

Somehow, he realizes he’s not doing anything with his own hands and quickly rectifies that my running them down Chris’s sides and the skimming them under the edge of his shirt, touching the warm skin there cautiously. Chris squirms like he wants more contact, and Dustin realizes that, with Chris pinned under him, he doesn’t have the range of motion to do all the things he wants to, like reaching up to run the pad of his thumb across Chris’s nipple or kissing his way down Chris’s stomach or licking his belly button until Chris squirms again, more desperately, or moans. Yeah, that. He wants to make Chris moan.

But Dustin also really, really doesn’t want to lose this full-body contact thing they have going on, or remove the hands from his back or stop pressing sloppy kisses that are a lot more like licks down the side of Chris’s neck. So for the time being, he just pulls Chris’s hips in closer to his and Chris makes this little noise that Dustin can’t hear properly because his mouth is somewhere around Chris’s collarbone but it sounds a lot like oh god Dustin, and that makes him grin smugly.

Then Chris rolls his hips wantonly and Dustin, whose mouth is still really really not talking to his brain at all, moans embarrassingly loudly, his head jerking up. Luckily, Chris doesn’t seem to care about the volume, because he hums happily and yanks Dustin’s shirt over his head, then flattens his hands on Dustin’s back and kisses him, hard and messy and with so much want behind it Dustin thinks he might actually see stars.

This is all just so much more than Dustin can handle.

He drags his mouth away, gasping into the crook of Chris’s neck, trying to compose himself enough to say something-anything. Because Chris is clearly the superior human and also clearly has super-human speaking powers, he says “Jesus fucking Christ, Dustin, if you do not put your hands somewhere else in the next thirty seconds, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

(He sounds kind of choked, like he’s forcing the words out past other noises his mouth would rather be making.)

Dustin, well, he can do that.