February Festival ~ Day 14 ~ Wonderful Kiss:
Sooner or later I’m going to get caught up on this meme! Really! Anyway, for Day 14 we’re searching for a “Wonderful Kiss.” I’ve always loved the first kiss between AJ and JC in Love and Other Miscommunications by pierson. Both of them are, shall we say, widely experienced, but the difference is that AJ is now looking for stability whereas JC is still only entertaining one-night stands. But the attraction is strong and the first kiss is a doozy, and AJ lays out his ground rules from the beginning. (I had difficulty cutting down the excerpt because the scene goes on for a while.)
AJ leaned against the wall and watched as JC pushed up his sleeves over his sinewy forearms, dumped out the thermoses of coffee and cocoa, and washed them, setting them into the drainer. He liked the way JC moved, all long-legged, lanky grace, and whatever he did seemed to involve his entire attention. Then he half-turned, and the light above the sink gilded his strong profile, and AJ found every bit of his own attention focused on JC, because, oh. Yeah. JC looked at him from beneath his lashes, and his mouth curved, and AJ wanted, wanted with a strength that made his knees shake.
He stirred, pushing away from the wall, but in two steps JC had crossed the floor and pushed him back, one hand in the center of his chest. AJ, who’d never let himself be manhandled by anyone, let himself be pushed, because hell, to have that attention focused unblinkingly on him was worth it. His eyes moved from the wet hand on his hoodie up to JC’s face, determined, beautiful and fierce, like the angels in old pictures he’d seen.
AJ fisted one hand in JC’s Henley, pulled, and JC came to him. He smelled earthy, male, like some musky spice he couldn’t identify, but his mouth tasted sweetly of cocoa and vanilla sugar cookies when AJ opened to him. Soft full lips, clever slick tongue curling around his own, the press of JC’s hard chest against his own, long thigh sliding between his, and oh, yes, JC’s hips fit perfectly into the palms of his hands, like he knew they would.
His blood surged through his body in a heavy tide, swirling and eddying deep and low in his belly, pounding with the rhythm of his thudding heart. Electric sensation sparkled down his spine and feathered out over his body until even his fingertips, dug tightly into JC’s hips, tingled. JC moaned into his mouth, his hands sliding over AJ’s arms and shoulders, curving around the nape of his neck, thumbs rubbing lightly over the hinges of his jaw, coaxing him to tilt his head to a better position. It was sweet and fierce, so good, so amazingly good that AJ could’ve happily stayed there forever, caught between the wall and JC’s hard, hot body.
He only realized he moaned when JC broke away from his mouth and the sound escaped, low and ragged and thick with want. JC’s breath was hot and moist against his mouth as he panted, and JC pressed harder against him, a liquid roll of hips that made him gasp and push back against the delicious heat of the rigid dick beneath JC’s jeans. He himself was hard, so hard he ached, his dick caught behind denim, the Prince Albert rubbing and pulling against his clothing, the rings in his stiff nipples tugging with a sweet pleasurepain, and oh, it had been so long since he’d been this excited that for a minute he thought he’d burn to a crisp with the sheer power of the sensations.
“Again,” JC said against his mouth. His tongue flicked over AJ’s lower lip, and then his teeth sank into it in a sharp nip that had AJ moaning and shuddering, had his hands scrabbling to pull the soft shirt from the waist of JC’s tight jeans to feel hot, pliant skin against his fingertips.
“Yeah,” JC said, his voice low and hoarse. “Oh, yeah, like that. I like to hear that.”
And before AJ could get the shirt free, JC slid from his grasp and sank down onto his knees, his hands gathering up AJ’s heavy hoodie and sweatshirt and undershirt, fighting to get to bare skin. AJ’s whole body jerked and shuddered when he felt the slick, wet slide of tongue against his belly. His hands skittered down and wound in thick warm hair; it curled around his fingers, and when his fingers tightened, AJ heard a moan and then felt the sudden nip of teeth at his navel.
His eyes flew open; when had he closed them? He looked down the line of his body and saw a slice of nose, the fan of long lashes on JC’s cheekbone, the curve of his eyebrow, the tumble of soft brown curls. And oh, holy fuck, tongue and lips dragging over his belly. Beautiful man on his knees, mouth hungry on his skin. So familiar; it could’ve been the memory of any of a thousand meaningless sexual encounters; beautiful men or women who’d meant nothing to him but a skilled mouth or the hot, slick recesses of their bodies, places to let himself sink into oblivion.
He wanted more than that, now. He wanted it to be different than all those fucks in that life he’d left behind. He wanted it to mean something.
Although his dick felt so full and hot he thought it would break off, AJ tightened his fingers in JC’s hair and pulled him away from his belly. JC’s eyes were heavy and dark, his mouth wet and slack, and AJ’s dick throbbed, hard, wanting. Every instinct howled at him to let JC go back to what he’d started, and he knew that his soft mouth would be a warm and welcoming haven. JC’s body pressed against his thighs, one hand curled around his hip, trying to pull himself closer.
“No,” AJ said, and his voice cracked, sounded hoarse and alien to him. He tried again. “No, JC.”
JC blinked, and the fog began to fade from his eyes. His expression sharpened a little. “What?”
AJ closed his eyes a second and marshaled his strength of will before opening them again and looking down into JC’s upturned face. “What are you doing?”
“If you don’t know, cat....”
“No. I mean. You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t *have* to do anything I don’t want to do,” JC said reasonably. “And I don’t, believe me. Who said I didn’t want this?” His hand slid over AJ’s loose jeans, curled around the erection tenting the heavy material, and squeezed gently. It felt so damn good, and his body screamed for more, more, now. AJ’s hips rose into JC’s touch before he could stop the motion, and he bit his lower lip, made himself pull away and press back against the wall. JC’s hand slid down lower, cupped his balls. “And it pretty much looks like you want this, too.”
“Oh, I want,” AJ admitted, drawing a ragged breath. “Fuck, yeah, I want. But. But want isn’t everything.”
“No, it’s not,” JC said. “But sometimes, things are just that simple.” He unfolded and rose in one fluid, graceful motion, and AJ wanted to keen in frustration as JC released him. AJ’s eyes skated down JC’s lean body then back up; he looked as hard as AJ felt, his dick a fat bulge stretching toward his left hip, trapped beneath tight denim. He wanted to work his hands beneath JC’s tight shirt, to touch his flat belly, to press his mouth to a firm pectoral and bite. AJ curled his hands into fists to keep from doing just that, and jerked his gaze back up to JC’s face.
“Some things are worth more than just want,” AJ said.
AJ leaned against the wall and watched as JC pushed up his sleeves over his sinewy forearms, dumped out the thermoses of coffee and cocoa, and washed them, setting them into the drainer. He liked the way JC moved, all long-legged, lanky grace, and whatever he did seemed to involve his entire attention. Then he half-turned, and the light above the sink gilded his strong profile, and AJ found every bit of his own attention focused on JC, because, oh. Yeah. JC looked at him from beneath his lashes, and his mouth curved, and AJ wanted, wanted with a strength that made his knees shake.
He stirred, pushing away from the wall, but in two steps JC had crossed the floor and pushed him back, one hand in the center of his chest. AJ, who’d never let himself be manhandled by anyone, let himself be pushed, because hell, to have that attention focused unblinkingly on him was worth it. His eyes moved from the wet hand on his hoodie up to JC’s face, determined, beautiful and fierce, like the angels in old pictures he’d seen.
AJ fisted one hand in JC’s Henley, pulled, and JC came to him. He smelled earthy, male, like some musky spice he couldn’t identify, but his mouth tasted sweetly of cocoa and vanilla sugar cookies when AJ opened to him. Soft full lips, clever slick tongue curling around his own, the press of JC’s hard chest against his own, long thigh sliding between his, and oh, yes, JC’s hips fit perfectly into the palms of his hands, like he knew they would.
His blood surged through his body in a heavy tide, swirling and eddying deep and low in his belly, pounding with the rhythm of his thudding heart. Electric sensation sparkled down his spine and feathered out over his body until even his fingertips, dug tightly into JC’s hips, tingled. JC moaned into his mouth, his hands sliding over AJ’s arms and shoulders, curving around the nape of his neck, thumbs rubbing lightly over the hinges of his jaw, coaxing him to tilt his head to a better position. It was sweet and fierce, so good, so amazingly good that AJ could’ve happily stayed there forever, caught between the wall and JC’s hard, hot body.
He only realized he moaned when JC broke away from his mouth and the sound escaped, low and ragged and thick with want. JC’s breath was hot and moist against his mouth as he panted, and JC pressed harder against him, a liquid roll of hips that made him gasp and push back against the delicious heat of the rigid dick beneath JC’s jeans. He himself was hard, so hard he ached, his dick caught behind denim, the Prince Albert rubbing and pulling against his clothing, the rings in his stiff nipples tugging with a sweet pleasurepain, and oh, it had been so long since he’d been this excited that for a minute he thought he’d burn to a crisp with the sheer power of the sensations.
“Again,” JC said against his mouth. His tongue flicked over AJ’s lower lip, and then his teeth sank into it in a sharp nip that had AJ moaning and shuddering, had his hands scrabbling to pull the soft shirt from the waist of JC’s tight jeans to feel hot, pliant skin against his fingertips.
“Yeah,” JC said, his voice low and hoarse. “Oh, yeah, like that. I like to hear that.”
And before AJ could get the shirt free, JC slid from his grasp and sank down onto his knees, his hands gathering up AJ’s heavy hoodie and sweatshirt and undershirt, fighting to get to bare skin. AJ’s whole body jerked and shuddered when he felt the slick, wet slide of tongue against his belly. His hands skittered down and wound in thick warm hair; it curled around his fingers, and when his fingers tightened, AJ heard a moan and then felt the sudden nip of teeth at his navel.
His eyes flew open; when had he closed them? He looked down the line of his body and saw a slice of nose, the fan of long lashes on JC’s cheekbone, the curve of his eyebrow, the tumble of soft brown curls. And oh, holy fuck, tongue and lips dragging over his belly. Beautiful man on his knees, mouth hungry on his skin. So familiar; it could’ve been the memory of any of a thousand meaningless sexual encounters; beautiful men or women who’d meant nothing to him but a skilled mouth or the hot, slick recesses of their bodies, places to let himself sink into oblivion.
He wanted more than that, now. He wanted it to be different than all those fucks in that life he’d left behind. He wanted it to mean something.
Although his dick felt so full and hot he thought it would break off, AJ tightened his fingers in JC’s hair and pulled him away from his belly. JC’s eyes were heavy and dark, his mouth wet and slack, and AJ’s dick throbbed, hard, wanting. Every instinct howled at him to let JC go back to what he’d started, and he knew that his soft mouth would be a warm and welcoming haven. JC’s body pressed against his thighs, one hand curled around his hip, trying to pull himself closer.
“No,” AJ said, and his voice cracked, sounded hoarse and alien to him. He tried again. “No, JC.”
JC blinked, and the fog began to fade from his eyes. His expression sharpened a little. “What?”
AJ closed his eyes a second and marshaled his strength of will before opening them again and looking down into JC’s upturned face. “What are you doing?”
“If you don’t know, cat....”
“No. I mean. You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t *have* to do anything I don’t want to do,” JC said reasonably. “And I don’t, believe me. Who said I didn’t want this?” His hand slid over AJ’s loose jeans, curled around the erection tenting the heavy material, and squeezed gently. It felt so damn good, and his body screamed for more, more, now. AJ’s hips rose into JC’s touch before he could stop the motion, and he bit his lower lip, made himself pull away and press back against the wall. JC’s hand slid down lower, cupped his balls. “And it pretty much looks like you want this, too.”
“Oh, I want,” AJ admitted, drawing a ragged breath. “Fuck, yeah, I want. But. But want isn’t everything.”
“No, it’s not,” JC said. “But sometimes, things are just that simple.” He unfolded and rose in one fluid, graceful motion, and AJ wanted to keen in frustration as JC released him. AJ’s eyes skated down JC’s lean body then back up; he looked as hard as AJ felt, his dick a fat bulge stretching toward his left hip, trapped beneath tight denim. He wanted to work his hands beneath JC’s tight shirt, to touch his flat belly, to press his mouth to a firm pectoral and bite. AJ curled his hands into fists to keep from doing just that, and jerked his gaze back up to JC’s face.
“Some things are worth more than just want,” AJ said.