[fic post] I Don't Care
Title: I Don't Care
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairings or Characters: Jay/Charles
Warnings: teenage boys having sex
Word Count: 1101
Summary: Who was he kidding?
Author Notes: I have no idea where this came from. I haven't written HoneySyn in months, and only once before, and now I'm writing HoneySyn porn while trying to write different porn and, yeah, I just don't know. The angst in this makes me need stupid fluff so much more now. DDD:
I Don't Care
Jay wasn't careful as he tugged Charles over the threshold of his house. He knew his parents were out of town and the place was empty, so the moment Charles was inside the door, Jay's mouth was on him, kissing and biting whatever he could find. They bumped into practically every piece of furniture between the foyer and living room, and even knocked a couple picture frames off the walls, as they pushed and shoved and tugged at each other.
Later, Charles will say this happened because they were both drunk, like that is the only way it would ever happen at all. Jay remembers having a definite buzz, but Charles never tastes like anything alcoholic. Whatever, Jay will scoff, I don't care.
They attempted to make it upstairs to Jay's bedroom, but walking while trying to strip each other without pulling their mouths apart was hard enough, let alone climbing stairs. They collapsed together three steps up, Jay straddling Charles and kissing him so hard it felt like his lips were bruising. Charles moaned into his mouth as one of Jay's hands ducked beneath the waistband of his pants and boxers and squeezed his ass.
Later, Charles will look just as unruffled and untouchable as always and no one will ever guess that he was fucked hard on a staircase, a wall and a bed the night before. He won't look at Jay like a lover, or like anything at all. Whatever, Jay will say, I don't care.
Neither of them had gotten more than their shoes off when Jay finally pulled away from Charles' mouth long enough to turn him over and tug his jeans down just far enough. He had lube and condoms in his pocket -- he had learned quickly to always be ready when dealing with Charles -- and barely managed to get them both on when Charles started rubbing his bare ass against him, urging him on.
"Hurry up, loser," Charles panted.
"Shut up, asshole," Jay grunted back.
Later, Charles will feel as distant as ever, locking everyone out of his and Metis' private, little world. Jay will be left watching with envy, despite knowing the feeling of Charles' skin beneath his hands, of being inside Charles, that Metis will never know. Whatever, Jay will mumble, I don't care.
Charles was so hot and tight that Jay moaned almost as loudly surging inside him as Charles did at being entered. He waited for several moments that dragged on nearly forever, giving Charles time to adjust, before starting his rhythm, hard and fast. There would be time later to go slow, but now he needed more, he needed everything. And for once, Charles was willing to give. Jay pressed grateful kisses along the back of Charles' neck, smirking against sweaty skin when he hit just the right spot and the blond beneath him jerked and moaned.
Jay normally did everything he could to please Charles and get him off, hoping against hope that he would earn himself just a second of acknowledgment that, inevitably, he never got. But at that moment, he was fucking Charles hard into the carpeted staircase, focusing on his own release and leaving the blond to take care of his own erection. Jay kept his hands on Charles' hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises, pulling him back onto his cock while pushing forward faster with every thrust. The noises Charles made were like music to his ears, and he knew they'd be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come.
Later, Charles will stand in front of him, arrogant and disinterested, as Jay demands he stop pretending like he doesn't exist unless he's sucking his cock or screwing him into the ground. He won't acknowledge anything -- the filthy moans he makes while he's squirming and begging for more; the slow kisses between rounds that are too gentle to just be for occupying their mouths; the drinks he buys until Jay is too buzzed to turn him down -- and Jay will finally have had enough. Whatever, Jay will shout, I don't care.
"Theretherethere," Charles moaned, fist pumping his dick to match Jay's steady rhythm. Jay was starting to slow, indication that he was close to coming, and Charles let out a frustrated grunt. "No, don't slow down, don't slow down." But Jay ignored him and went back to kissing the back of his neck until he had to straighten his back as the rising pulse of orgasm shot through him.
"Fuck," he growled, the pace of his thrusts briefly speeding back up as he came, and Charles groaned beneath him as his own orgasm hit.
Later, Jay will punch Charles in the mouth and call him pathetic, assure him he has less shot with Metis than Jay has with Marilyn Monroe, and swear he will never touch him again. Charles won't say a thing or look bothered, despite the split lip and bloody tongue, and Jay will start to cry.
I thought you didn't care, Charles will point out nonchalantly, the first time he speaks to Jay in school without a teacher or Metis forcing him. Jay will punch him again and walk away, trying to convince himself that the pain in his chest, the tears on his face, and the lump in his throat have nothing to do with Charles whatsoever. But he's never been a good liar.
Jay collapsed onto Charles' back, a blissful smile on his face. Charles shoved at him, but he refused to budge. They were both still wearing too many clothes, and Jay was far from satisfied, but he needed a moment to catch his breath. Charles pushed at him again, and reluctantly he lifted himself up to give the blond the room he wanted. He rolled over, without letting Jay slip out of him somehow, and grabbed Jay by the neck of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss.
"That all you have?" Charles asked against his mouth.
"Of course not, you dick," Jay groused, thrusting forward with his stirring erection to prove his point.
"Congratulations. You're not a total failure," Charles smirked, grinding himself teasingly onto Jay and grinning when he winced and swore.
Later, Jay will still remember everything, even if Charles looks at him like they've never even met before. Jay will bite the inside of his cheek and try and recall what he'd always told himself, but he will end up slamming his fists against his locker before the tears start again.
Oh, who am I kidding, Jay will laugh, nursing his knuckles, I'll always care.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairings or Characters: Jay/Charles
Warnings: teenage boys having sex
Word Count: 1101
Summary: Who was he kidding?
Author Notes: I have no idea where this came from. I haven't written HoneySyn in months, and only once before, and now I'm writing HoneySyn porn while trying to write different porn and, yeah, I just don't know. The angst in this makes me need stupid fluff so much more now. DDD:
I Don't Care
Jay wasn't careful as he tugged Charles over the threshold of his house. He knew his parents were out of town and the place was empty, so the moment Charles was inside the door, Jay's mouth was on him, kissing and biting whatever he could find. They bumped into practically every piece of furniture between the foyer and living room, and even knocked a couple picture frames off the walls, as they pushed and shoved and tugged at each other.
Later, Charles will say this happened because they were both drunk, like that is the only way it would ever happen at all. Jay remembers having a definite buzz, but Charles never tastes like anything alcoholic. Whatever, Jay will scoff, I don't care.
They attempted to make it upstairs to Jay's bedroom, but walking while trying to strip each other without pulling their mouths apart was hard enough, let alone climbing stairs. They collapsed together three steps up, Jay straddling Charles and kissing him so hard it felt like his lips were bruising. Charles moaned into his mouth as one of Jay's hands ducked beneath the waistband of his pants and boxers and squeezed his ass.
Later, Charles will look just as unruffled and untouchable as always and no one will ever guess that he was fucked hard on a staircase, a wall and a bed the night before. He won't look at Jay like a lover, or like anything at all. Whatever, Jay will say, I don't care.
Neither of them had gotten more than their shoes off when Jay finally pulled away from Charles' mouth long enough to turn him over and tug his jeans down just far enough. He had lube and condoms in his pocket -- he had learned quickly to always be ready when dealing with Charles -- and barely managed to get them both on when Charles started rubbing his bare ass against him, urging him on.
"Hurry up, loser," Charles panted.
"Shut up, asshole," Jay grunted back.
Later, Charles will feel as distant as ever, locking everyone out of his and Metis' private, little world. Jay will be left watching with envy, despite knowing the feeling of Charles' skin beneath his hands, of being inside Charles, that Metis will never know. Whatever, Jay will mumble, I don't care.
Charles was so hot and tight that Jay moaned almost as loudly surging inside him as Charles did at being entered. He waited for several moments that dragged on nearly forever, giving Charles time to adjust, before starting his rhythm, hard and fast. There would be time later to go slow, but now he needed more, he needed everything. And for once, Charles was willing to give. Jay pressed grateful kisses along the back of Charles' neck, smirking against sweaty skin when he hit just the right spot and the blond beneath him jerked and moaned.
Jay normally did everything he could to please Charles and get him off, hoping against hope that he would earn himself just a second of acknowledgment that, inevitably, he never got. But at that moment, he was fucking Charles hard into the carpeted staircase, focusing on his own release and leaving the blond to take care of his own erection. Jay kept his hands on Charles' hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises, pulling him back onto his cock while pushing forward faster with every thrust. The noises Charles made were like music to his ears, and he knew they'd be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come.
Later, Charles will stand in front of him, arrogant and disinterested, as Jay demands he stop pretending like he doesn't exist unless he's sucking his cock or screwing him into the ground. He won't acknowledge anything -- the filthy moans he makes while he's squirming and begging for more; the slow kisses between rounds that are too gentle to just be for occupying their mouths; the drinks he buys until Jay is too buzzed to turn him down -- and Jay will finally have had enough. Whatever, Jay will shout, I don't care.
"Theretherethere," Charles moaned, fist pumping his dick to match Jay's steady rhythm. Jay was starting to slow, indication that he was close to coming, and Charles let out a frustrated grunt. "No, don't slow down, don't slow down." But Jay ignored him and went back to kissing the back of his neck until he had to straighten his back as the rising pulse of orgasm shot through him.
"Fuck," he growled, the pace of his thrusts briefly speeding back up as he came, and Charles groaned beneath him as his own orgasm hit.
Later, Jay will punch Charles in the mouth and call him pathetic, assure him he has less shot with Metis than Jay has with Marilyn Monroe, and swear he will never touch him again. Charles won't say a thing or look bothered, despite the split lip and bloody tongue, and Jay will start to cry.
I thought you didn't care, Charles will point out nonchalantly, the first time he speaks to Jay in school without a teacher or Metis forcing him. Jay will punch him again and walk away, trying to convince himself that the pain in his chest, the tears on his face, and the lump in his throat have nothing to do with Charles whatsoever. But he's never been a good liar.
Jay collapsed onto Charles' back, a blissful smile on his face. Charles shoved at him, but he refused to budge. They were both still wearing too many clothes, and Jay was far from satisfied, but he needed a moment to catch his breath. Charles pushed at him again, and reluctantly he lifted himself up to give the blond the room he wanted. He rolled over, without letting Jay slip out of him somehow, and grabbed Jay by the neck of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss.
"That all you have?" Charles asked against his mouth.
"Of course not, you dick," Jay groused, thrusting forward with his stirring erection to prove his point.
"Congratulations. You're not a total failure," Charles smirked, grinding himself teasingly onto Jay and grinning when he winced and swore.
Later, Jay will still remember everything, even if Charles looks at him like they've never even met before. Jay will bite the inside of his cheek and try and recall what he'd always told himself, but he will end up slamming his fists against his locker before the tears start again.
Oh, who am I kidding, Jay will laugh, nursing his knuckles, I'll always care.