Secret Santa 2013: Moving In
Title: Moving In
Recipient: zeraparker
Characters: Daniel Ricciardo/Jean-Eric Vergne
Rating: Black Flag
Summary: Dan's new flat.
Beta: the absolutely brilliant larascasse
Hallway.
They’ve barely even made it through the front door when Daniel has Jean-Eric pinned to the wall, their mouths fitted together, kissing hungrily, hands groping, hips rolling. Dan tears their mouths apart, pulls back to see Jean-Eric’s face, his cheeks flushed, lips wet and red, parted, and he leans in again, nuzzles Jean-Eric’s jaw, listens to the hitch in his voice, the sudden gasp that slides into a moan as he trails his lips downwards, bites down where neck meets shoulder, where he knows Jean-Eric is crazy-sensitive to any touch. Jean-Eric’s hands tighten around Daniel’s shoulders, one leg hitching upwards to wrap around Dan’s waist. “Fuck, Dan, oh-“ Jean-Eric moans, one hand roaming down Daniel’s back, first sliding up his t-shirt, nails just grazing his skin, just enough to send shivers down Daniel’s spine, shivers Jean-Eric follows down his spine until he reaches the waistband of his jeans and slides a hand beneath them, roughly groping Daniel’s arse, pulling him closer. “Dan,” he gasps, arching his back, helpless as Dan’s hands find his arse, encouraging both legs to wrap around his waist, and then find a rhythm, rubbing their cocks together through their jeans, the rough friction more than enough with how desperate they are. Jean-Eric comes first, mewled moan, head flung back against the wall with a thump, clinging to Daniel as Daniel thrusts harder, dragging out Jean-Eric’s orgasm and tumbling into his own, crying out wordlessly, sharp yelp as they both hit the floor, Dan’s knees giving out. Jean-Eric giggles breathlessly, stretching out on the floor.
“Jev,“ Dan starts, “Jev, we’re one room down,” he laughs, toeing off his shoes.
“Hmmm?” Jean-Eric asks, blinking open sleepy eyes, and Dan feels his spent cock twitch in his sticky jeans, because he looks beautiful, lips swollen, red marks that he knows will bruise on his neck, and he looks so utterly satisfied, and Dan cannot wait to christen all the other rooms of his new flat.
Kitchen
Christening everywhere else has to wait. Dan actually needs a house in working order, and so boxes have to be unpacked. Not that they get very far in this task before Jean-Eric presses his body to Daniel’s back, deliberately rolling his hips to rub himself against Daniel’s arse. “These jeans are good on you,” he murmurs, watching Daniel carefully put the plates he’s holding down. Sensible Dan. Very sensible, because it means Jean-Eric is free to spin him around and drop to his knees without fear of the stack smashing on the top of his head.
“Jev,” Daniel moans, delighted gasp as Jean-Eric unceremoniously yanks his jeans downs, boxers swift to follow, before his mouth slides around Daniel’s cock, hot and wet and perfect and Daniel shudders with the delight of it, hands sliding into Jean-Eric’s hair, tugging and ruffling and Jean-Eric looks so good with Dan’s cock in his mouth.
Lounge
It’s late on the second evening of Dan’s new flat when they’re curled up on the sofa together, no television because they haven’t got round to that yet, too busy with arranging everything, moving familiar things into unfamiliar places. Jean-Eric squirms, restless, and Dan smirks, watches him, waving the little remote in his hand. “Sit still.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jean-Eric whimpers, hips jerking up, cock slapping against his stomach. Daniel chuckles, nudges the button on the remote and watches Jean-Eric’s eyes fall shut, bottom lip held tightly between his teeth, fingers tightening in their grasp of the back of the sofa. He’s not allowed to touch himself, and he knows it, knows what will happen if he disobeys Dan’s order.
“Hm, I suppose it is easy for me to say,” Dan says, but doesn’t bother to get up and force Jean-Eric’s hips down like he normally does, pushing his arse against the cushions, forcing the vibrator deeper inside him. Jean-Eric’s doing that much himself with the way his hips are rolling.
“Dan-“ Jean-Eric’s whimpers are rising in volume, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to watch Dan, watch the way Dan’s hand has slid into his pyjama pants, deliberately hiding what he wants to see.
“Go on,” Dan encourages, and it’s permission, Jean-Eric’s hips stuttering upwards before he comes over himself, groaning, relaxing back into the sofa with a mewl. Dan gasps out his own orgasm, crawling over to flop on top of Jean-Eric. “I still think the sofa needs to be more defiled.”
“Later,” Jean-Eric promises, too relaxed to move anything for at least the next half-hour.
Bathroom
Of course they christen the bathroom with shower sex. It’s odd, though, not squishing into the tiny shower of their Milton Keynes flat. Instead, this shower is far more spacious and it takes them a little time to work out positions where Jean-Eric can slide into Dan without either of them slipping and breaking something.
It’s also quite a big novelty when the water doesn’t run cold on them halfway through. Nothing like suddenly having ice cold water dumped on you to ruin sex, is there?
Bedroom
Surprisingly, it’s the last place they christen. They’ve been too exhausted with unpacking and training and settling in and shagging everywhere else in the flat that it’s fallen by the wayside, but today is the first morning when they know they don’t have anything to do and can have a lie-in. This is the kind of sex that they live for, dream of having, sleepy and lazy and perfect, pressed together, gasping their love in each other’s ears, and neither of them wants to leave this moment, wanting to stay cuddled forever in the comfort of their bed where the world consists of them and them only.
Recipient: zeraparker
Characters: Daniel Ricciardo/Jean-Eric Vergne
Rating: Black Flag
Summary: Dan's new flat.
Beta: the absolutely brilliant larascasse
Hallway.
They’ve barely even made it through the front door when Daniel has Jean-Eric pinned to the wall, their mouths fitted together, kissing hungrily, hands groping, hips rolling. Dan tears their mouths apart, pulls back to see Jean-Eric’s face, his cheeks flushed, lips wet and red, parted, and he leans in again, nuzzles Jean-Eric’s jaw, listens to the hitch in his voice, the sudden gasp that slides into a moan as he trails his lips downwards, bites down where neck meets shoulder, where he knows Jean-Eric is crazy-sensitive to any touch. Jean-Eric’s hands tighten around Daniel’s shoulders, one leg hitching upwards to wrap around Dan’s waist. “Fuck, Dan, oh-“ Jean-Eric moans, one hand roaming down Daniel’s back, first sliding up his t-shirt, nails just grazing his skin, just enough to send shivers down Daniel’s spine, shivers Jean-Eric follows down his spine until he reaches the waistband of his jeans and slides a hand beneath them, roughly groping Daniel’s arse, pulling him closer. “Dan,” he gasps, arching his back, helpless as Dan’s hands find his arse, encouraging both legs to wrap around his waist, and then find a rhythm, rubbing their cocks together through their jeans, the rough friction more than enough with how desperate they are. Jean-Eric comes first, mewled moan, head flung back against the wall with a thump, clinging to Daniel as Daniel thrusts harder, dragging out Jean-Eric’s orgasm and tumbling into his own, crying out wordlessly, sharp yelp as they both hit the floor, Dan’s knees giving out. Jean-Eric giggles breathlessly, stretching out on the floor.
“Jev,“ Dan starts, “Jev, we’re one room down,” he laughs, toeing off his shoes.
“Hmmm?” Jean-Eric asks, blinking open sleepy eyes, and Dan feels his spent cock twitch in his sticky jeans, because he looks beautiful, lips swollen, red marks that he knows will bruise on his neck, and he looks so utterly satisfied, and Dan cannot wait to christen all the other rooms of his new flat.
Kitchen
Christening everywhere else has to wait. Dan actually needs a house in working order, and so boxes have to be unpacked. Not that they get very far in this task before Jean-Eric presses his body to Daniel’s back, deliberately rolling his hips to rub himself against Daniel’s arse. “These jeans are good on you,” he murmurs, watching Daniel carefully put the plates he’s holding down. Sensible Dan. Very sensible, because it means Jean-Eric is free to spin him around and drop to his knees without fear of the stack smashing on the top of his head.
“Jev,” Daniel moans, delighted gasp as Jean-Eric unceremoniously yanks his jeans downs, boxers swift to follow, before his mouth slides around Daniel’s cock, hot and wet and perfect and Daniel shudders with the delight of it, hands sliding into Jean-Eric’s hair, tugging and ruffling and Jean-Eric looks so good with Dan’s cock in his mouth.
Lounge
It’s late on the second evening of Dan’s new flat when they’re curled up on the sofa together, no television because they haven’t got round to that yet, too busy with arranging everything, moving familiar things into unfamiliar places. Jean-Eric squirms, restless, and Dan smirks, watches him, waving the little remote in his hand. “Sit still.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jean-Eric whimpers, hips jerking up, cock slapping against his stomach. Daniel chuckles, nudges the button on the remote and watches Jean-Eric’s eyes fall shut, bottom lip held tightly between his teeth, fingers tightening in their grasp of the back of the sofa. He’s not allowed to touch himself, and he knows it, knows what will happen if he disobeys Dan’s order.
“Hm, I suppose it is easy for me to say,” Dan says, but doesn’t bother to get up and force Jean-Eric’s hips down like he normally does, pushing his arse against the cushions, forcing the vibrator deeper inside him. Jean-Eric’s doing that much himself with the way his hips are rolling.
“Dan-“ Jean-Eric’s whimpers are rising in volume, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to watch Dan, watch the way Dan’s hand has slid into his pyjama pants, deliberately hiding what he wants to see.
“Go on,” Dan encourages, and it’s permission, Jean-Eric’s hips stuttering upwards before he comes over himself, groaning, relaxing back into the sofa with a mewl. Dan gasps out his own orgasm, crawling over to flop on top of Jean-Eric. “I still think the sofa needs to be more defiled.”
“Later,” Jean-Eric promises, too relaxed to move anything for at least the next half-hour.
Bathroom
Of course they christen the bathroom with shower sex. It’s odd, though, not squishing into the tiny shower of their Milton Keynes flat. Instead, this shower is far more spacious and it takes them a little time to work out positions where Jean-Eric can slide into Dan without either of them slipping and breaking something.
It’s also quite a big novelty when the water doesn’t run cold on them halfway through. Nothing like suddenly having ice cold water dumped on you to ruin sex, is there?
Bedroom
Surprisingly, it’s the last place they christen. They’ve been too exhausted with unpacking and training and settling in and shagging everywhere else in the flat that it’s fallen by the wayside, but today is the first morning when they know they don’t have anything to do and can have a lie-in. This is the kind of sex that they live for, dream of having, sleepy and lazy and perfect, pressed together, gasping their love in each other’s ears, and neither of them wants to leave this moment, wanting to stay cuddled forever in the comfort of their bed where the world consists of them and them only.