Sleep
Title: Sleep
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Anole/Northstar
Prompt: 55. Thrust
Word Count:
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jean-Paul has no idea how it happened, but he's not going to worry about it just yet.
Author's Notes: Written for the marvel_kink meme.
Jean-Paul decided, about the time that Victor started nibbling on his neck, that the time to think about how he'd ended up where he was was later. There would be plenty of time to wonder how he'd gone from reading a book in his room to being completely naked and having sex with Victor in a room that was most certainly not his own.
Once more, all thoughts were driven out of Jean-Paul's head when Victor moved his hips just so, causing Jean-Paul's whole body to shudder. His fingers closed over the younger mutant's hip bones, pulling him down fully onto his cock roughly, and Victor cried out, head thrown back in ecstasy.
Despite all this, one thought kept cropping up in Jean-Paul's head, and absolutely refused to go away.
Emma is going to kill me.
It was very hard to care that Emma was going to kill him, but the thought remained firmly in place.
He clutched Victor desperately, trying to not thrust too fast, to not grab too tightly. Victor's eyes were squeezed firmly shut, and with every movement he made a soft, needy noise that made Jean-Paul want to pin him to the bed and fuck him until he screamed. The noises were coming with increasing frequency, and Jean-Paul knew that he himself wouldn't last much longer. He found himself panting the boy's name with every thrust, kneading his buttocks and muttering sweet, filthy nothings in his ear. Strangely, even as he screamed wordlessly and came, Victor's eyes remained shut. Jean-Paul continued to hold on to Victor, thrusting a few more times himself before finding his release. He flopped back on the bed and the boy rolled off him bonelessly, looking around the room.
He was reasonably sure it was Victor's. The movie posters looked like his kind of thing. Finally, he sat up with the intention to demand some answers from the boy, only to find him already asleep.
Or perhaps, as Jean-Paul was starting to suspect, still asleep. A second look around the room turned up a note slid under the door, written in impeccable handwriting.
Emma, are you awake? Can you hear me? We must have a talk about your girls, and what they have
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Anole/Northstar
Prompt: 55. Thrust
Word Count:
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jean-Paul has no idea how it happened, but he's not going to worry about it just yet.
Author's Notes: Written for the marvel_kink meme.
Jean-Paul decided, about the time that Victor started nibbling on his neck, that the time to think about how he'd ended up where he was was later. There would be plenty of time to wonder how he'd gone from reading a book in his room to being completely naked and having sex with Victor in a room that was most certainly not his own.
Once more, all thoughts were driven out of Jean-Paul's head when Victor moved his hips just so, causing Jean-Paul's whole body to shudder. His fingers closed over the younger mutant's hip bones, pulling him down fully onto his cock roughly, and Victor cried out, head thrown back in ecstasy.
Despite all this, one thought kept cropping up in Jean-Paul's head, and absolutely refused to go away.
Emma is going to kill me.
It was very hard to care that Emma was going to kill him, but the thought remained firmly in place.
He clutched Victor desperately, trying to not thrust too fast, to not grab too tightly. Victor's eyes were squeezed firmly shut, and with every movement he made a soft, needy noise that made Jean-Paul want to pin him to the bed and fuck him until he screamed. The noises were coming with increasing frequency, and Jean-Paul knew that he himself wouldn't last much longer. He found himself panting the boy's name with every thrust, kneading his buttocks and muttering sweet, filthy nothings in his ear. Strangely, even as he screamed wordlessly and came, Victor's eyes remained shut. Jean-Paul continued to hold on to Victor, thrusting a few more times himself before finding his release. He flopped back on the bed and the boy rolled off him bonelessly, looking around the room.
He was reasonably sure it was Victor's. The movie posters looked like his kind of thing. Finally, he sat up with the intention to demand some answers from the boy, only to find him already asleep.
Or perhaps, as Jean-Paul was starting to suspect, still asleep. A second look around the room turned up a note slid under the door, written in impeccable handwriting.
Emma, are you awake? Can you hear me? We must have a talk about your girls, and what they have