The Oral Stage
Title: The Oral Stage
Author: onewayfreak
Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Pairing: Perry/Harry
Summary: Just a little porn.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1000
Notes: My lovely beta is simmysim.
I wouldn't call Perry difficult - at least, not to his face. No, he's not difficult; he's... he's a perfectionist. There are times when they seem to amount to the same thing in my mind, such as days when he makes me retype the same case file three times because, 'The phrasing isn't as clear as it could be.' But I guess I can't really fault him for being a little demanding when it comes to what we do in his bed.
See, I had to earn the right to suck Perry's cock.
It's not as weird as you might think. It's not some fucked-up kind of reward system or a whips-and-chains-and-rules kind of deal. It's just that Perry, like most guys, has this thing about blowjobs needing to feel good.
I'm not exactly a 'natural'; I've accepted that. Life is not a porn film, though it would simplify certain matters if it were. So I had to experience a lot of, "I know you can open your mouth wider than that, I've seen it," followed by, "Fuck, cover your teeth!" and finally, "Ugh, God, just stop, it's not going to work."
I can't say it wasn't a bit damaging to my ego (what tiny shreds are left, that is), but you know how people talk about how you always want what you can't have? They're right. So Perry let me keep trying, whenever he had the patience (his words), and now, finally, this one is looking good. There were a few hisses and warnings (it's really hard to keep your teeth covered when you're getting lockjaw, OK?), but he's let it go on longer than any other, at least, and that's a good sign.
"Ah, Jesus Christ, Harry-" Fuck, I love that. That hand in my hair, gripping, keeping my head down, even though I'm almost choking. Who would have guessed that I'd love that? I've been kidding myself for thirty five years.
I attempt to show my gratitude with a low moan, and my reward is Perry's fist tightening in my hair, his body going rigid. I pull back fast; the last thing I want is to choke on his come and miss the experience. I've fucking earned this, damnit.
I'm distantly aware that I'm humping Perry's mattress, which, I don't know, should probably be embarrassing, but then I hear him groan above me and all thoughts of anything besides Perry's cock are lost.
Perry tastes good, really good, and I think I'm whimpering as he floods my mouth. I haven't exactly tasted a lot of semen in my lifetime, and I honestly would be surprised if there was a huge difference from man to man, but this is Perry, it's Perry's come I'm tasting, and that tastes really, really fucking good.
I try to resist digging my finger nails into his leg as he jerks and moans, kind of fucking my mouth through the end of his orgasm. I'm beyond restraint at this point, and I can't stop myself from grinding on the bed, so I go with it, spreading my legs a little, rubbing on the mattress like I haven't done since I was fourteen. I don't take my mouth from Perry's cock until he, somewhat forcibly, hauls me off, and I'm so close to coming that it'd be pointless to move, so I rest my head on his thigh, breathing heavily through my nose because I haven't swallowed yet, I'm not losing this taste until I have to.
I know he's trying to get my attention, he's trying to pull me up but if he'd just give me a second--
"Hey," He pants out hoarsely, hitting my shoulder, "What the fuck's the matter with you?" Perry's version of, 'Are you OK?'
I don't answer, I can't, it's not worth it, because I'm about to lose it and I'm swallowing his come a little at a time, and it's too good to stop.
"Harry," He tries again. I moan and shake my head, rubbing myself faster on the sheets and starting to feel that dull ache of desperation. I could have come by now if he would just stop distracting me. "Harry, get up here."
It sounds like an order, and so with literal Herculean effort, I raise my head, swallowing reluctantly and sliding up Perry's body.
"C'mere." He slides his hands around my waist and pushes one leg between my thighs, and I moan gratefully; I don't have to be told twice. My cheeks feel hot, but embarrassment is so low on my list of priorities right now that I can't bring myself to care that I'm actually humping Perry's leg. I bury my face in his neck, whimpering, Jesus Christ, licking at the little drops of sweat that are almost as good as his come. It's a credit to his character that he doesn't mock me when I shoot all over his thigh and stomach not five seconds later, groaning shamelessly against his skin, nearly passing out with the force of what should probably have been a passive orgasm at best.
The only thing that stops me from completely losing consciousness is the thought of the cigarettes that I threw on the bedside table earlier. Perry doesn't normally let me smoke in his bedroom, but sometimes, if I get it lit before he notices, and if he's still in that brief post-orgasm haze, he lets it slide.
Sluggishly, I roll off him, watching as he throws an arm up to his forehead and sighs. Lying on my back and slowly (though probably not subtly) reaching out to the nightstand, I ask, "How was it?"
"Mmm. I think you'll do."
I laugh, removing a smoke from the pack and reaching out again for the lighter I'm sure I saw next to the lamp.
My fingers have just made contact with cool metal when the cigarette is plucked from my lips. I turn my head in time to watch Perry raise an eyebrow and pointedly crack the little white stick in half.
"Learn to deepthroat," He deadpans, flicking the two halves at my chest, "Then we'll talk."
Author: onewayfreak
Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Pairing: Perry/Harry
Summary: Just a little porn.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1000
Notes: My lovely beta is simmysim.
I wouldn't call Perry difficult - at least, not to his face. No, he's not difficult; he's... he's a perfectionist. There are times when they seem to amount to the same thing in my mind, such as days when he makes me retype the same case file three times because, 'The phrasing isn't as clear as it could be.' But I guess I can't really fault him for being a little demanding when it comes to what we do in his bed.
See, I had to earn the right to suck Perry's cock.
It's not as weird as you might think. It's not some fucked-up kind of reward system or a whips-and-chains-and-rules kind of deal. It's just that Perry, like most guys, has this thing about blowjobs needing to feel good.
I'm not exactly a 'natural'; I've accepted that. Life is not a porn film, though it would simplify certain matters if it were. So I had to experience a lot of, "I know you can open your mouth wider than that, I've seen it," followed by, "Fuck, cover your teeth!" and finally, "Ugh, God, just stop, it's not going to work."
I can't say it wasn't a bit damaging to my ego (what tiny shreds are left, that is), but you know how people talk about how you always want what you can't have? They're right. So Perry let me keep trying, whenever he had the patience (his words), and now, finally, this one is looking good. There were a few hisses and warnings (it's really hard to keep your teeth covered when you're getting lockjaw, OK?), but he's let it go on longer than any other, at least, and that's a good sign.
"Ah, Jesus Christ, Harry-" Fuck, I love that. That hand in my hair, gripping, keeping my head down, even though I'm almost choking. Who would have guessed that I'd love that? I've been kidding myself for thirty five years.
I attempt to show my gratitude with a low moan, and my reward is Perry's fist tightening in my hair, his body going rigid. I pull back fast; the last thing I want is to choke on his come and miss the experience. I've fucking earned this, damnit.
I'm distantly aware that I'm humping Perry's mattress, which, I don't know, should probably be embarrassing, but then I hear him groan above me and all thoughts of anything besides Perry's cock are lost.
Perry tastes good, really good, and I think I'm whimpering as he floods my mouth. I haven't exactly tasted a lot of semen in my lifetime, and I honestly would be surprised if there was a huge difference from man to man, but this is Perry, it's Perry's come I'm tasting, and that tastes really, really fucking good.
I try to resist digging my finger nails into his leg as he jerks and moans, kind of fucking my mouth through the end of his orgasm. I'm beyond restraint at this point, and I can't stop myself from grinding on the bed, so I go with it, spreading my legs a little, rubbing on the mattress like I haven't done since I was fourteen. I don't take my mouth from Perry's cock until he, somewhat forcibly, hauls me off, and I'm so close to coming that it'd be pointless to move, so I rest my head on his thigh, breathing heavily through my nose because I haven't swallowed yet, I'm not losing this taste until I have to.
I know he's trying to get my attention, he's trying to pull me up but if he'd just give me a second--
"Hey," He pants out hoarsely, hitting my shoulder, "What the fuck's the matter with you?" Perry's version of, 'Are you OK?'
I don't answer, I can't, it's not worth it, because I'm about to lose it and I'm swallowing his come a little at a time, and it's too good to stop.
"Harry," He tries again. I moan and shake my head, rubbing myself faster on the sheets and starting to feel that dull ache of desperation. I could have come by now if he would just stop distracting me. "Harry, get up here."
It sounds like an order, and so with literal Herculean effort, I raise my head, swallowing reluctantly and sliding up Perry's body.
"C'mere." He slides his hands around my waist and pushes one leg between my thighs, and I moan gratefully; I don't have to be told twice. My cheeks feel hot, but embarrassment is so low on my list of priorities right now that I can't bring myself to care that I'm actually humping Perry's leg. I bury my face in his neck, whimpering, Jesus Christ, licking at the little drops of sweat that are almost as good as his come. It's a credit to his character that he doesn't mock me when I shoot all over his thigh and stomach not five seconds later, groaning shamelessly against his skin, nearly passing out with the force of what should probably have been a passive orgasm at best.
The only thing that stops me from completely losing consciousness is the thought of the cigarettes that I threw on the bedside table earlier. Perry doesn't normally let me smoke in his bedroom, but sometimes, if I get it lit before he notices, and if he's still in that brief post-orgasm haze, he lets it slide.
Sluggishly, I roll off him, watching as he throws an arm up to his forehead and sighs. Lying on my back and slowly (though probably not subtly) reaching out to the nightstand, I ask, "How was it?"
"Mmm. I think you'll do."
I laugh, removing a smoke from the pack and reaching out again for the lighter I'm sure I saw next to the lamp.
My fingers have just made contact with cool metal when the cigarette is plucked from my lips. I turn my head in time to watch Perry raise an eyebrow and pointedly crack the little white stick in half.
"Learn to deepthroat," He deadpans, flicking the two halves at my chest, "Then we'll talk."