Direction





Written for Oxoniensis's Porn Battle of 2006.




“Ray,” Fraser breathes out, his air mixing with Ray’s, soft and hot against his lips and Ray answers by sliding their mouths together again as Fraser rolls them over. Ray’s on top of him, the jut of his hips sliding to fit against Fraser’s – he’s bonier, Fraser’s got the padding, and they fit so well for two people with the same equipment. Fraser’s thigh spreads Ray’s legs and they tangle again and again, with no sense or order or even any particular destination in mind. They’re just rolling around the bed like a couple of teenagers, high on heat and sweat and a good helping of lust, too, if Fraser’s blown pupils are anything to go by, or Ray’s own frantic heartbeat.

But, eventually, Ray wants to get to new and exciting places, so he revs it up, groping for Fraser’s wrists and pinning them above his head. Fraser’s moan is stuttered, like he hadn’t expected to make a sound, and Ray knows he’s headed in the right direction. Gives him a grin, then slips him some tongue, still holding him in place. Fraser thrusts against him and the friction feels damn good, the low buzz in Ray’s stomach fluttering out, growing, and he knows that he won’t stop now, and he’s found their destination, so he takes the direction south. He licks his way out of Fraser’s mouth, slides his lips against the hollow of Fraser’s neck. Fraser’s chest is spotted red, flushed all over, and Ray follows the spots with his tongue, touching the blurred edges, rubbing his cheek on the smooth skin. Fraser’s gasping, not even trying to be quiet anymore, and Ray knows he’ll stay, so he slowly lets go. His hands help him with the steering – they slide against Fraser’s body as Ray uses his mouth to hold him in place. Fraser’s skin is vast, like an endless road for Ray to take – and so he does. His skin glides against Fraser’s and he’s going down, and down, until Fraser’s smooth belly rubs against his chest, then chin, and he noses it, kisses it, half-lost with it, and Fraser barely moves a muscle voluntarily – he’s all twitches and small spasms; hitches of breath, almost soundless gasps nearly lost in the rushing of Ray’s ears.

Fraser’s cock is rubbing his chest and Ray slides even further down and it slicks against his chin, and then he’s sucking it in, finally, and Fraser nearly throws him off, making noises that Ray’s never heard anyone make in bed before, and yeah, that gets him going like nothing else. Fraser wants him, wants this, and he loves it, and Ray’s got him, got him under his hands and in his mouth, won’t let him go anywhere without him. He starts working him, tip to root, as much as he can, and what he can’t take with his mouth, he takes with his hands. One hand is already tangled with Fraser’s, fingers entwined and probably white-knuckled, the other hand pumping Fraser’s cock in time with his throat. Ray barely notices when he speeds up – his tongue is full of Fraser, Fraser, Fraser – he tastes everything, Fraser’s all over him. With his eyes closed, he inhales their scent. He speeds up more, rubs himself on the sheets, because he can’t not move anymore – everything is moving, even the bed is thumping now, because Fraser’s not only loud now, he’s restless – and so is Ray. They’re shaking the bed, and if they can do that with a blowjob, Ray can’t wait to see what else they can do, and he barely has to time think before Fraser calls out his name, a warning, and shoots down his throat.

Ray takes as much as he can, then pumps Fraser through the rest while Fraser shakes, his head thrown back, neck exposed, and groans low in his throat. Ray slides his tongue out, tastes Fraser on his chin. Fraser’s more flushed than ever now, his hair a total mess, his mouth still open, but with no sound coming out. When Fraser finally subsides, Ray slides back up his body and runs a hand through the curled hair, wet at the roots, and grins like an idiot.

He’s almost surprised when he’s flipped over onto his back and taken in hand, but quickly realizes that he doesn’t so much mind giving the controls over to Fraser. He’s wiped out, and wants to be wiped clean – he can damn well be the passenger now and get his kicks by watching Fraser try to obey the rules and blow them all off, one by one, until it’s just them and nothing standing in between.




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