#gvf slash

[yourmomsemogarlicbread]

Pirates, B****!

pairings: jake kiszka x reader

warnings!!!: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap ur willy.), kissing, secret relationship (if you squint), Pirate AU, fluff, smut, love confessions, love confessions during sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, female reader.

Author's Note: hi! this is the first fic on this account and my first great van fleet fic lol. i wrote this after waking up to the mirador announcement and honestly who doesn't want a pirate!Jake fic yk? anyways if you would like to check out my other works or read this on AO3 you can do so here.

Jake is good at what he does. 

We all knew that. 

You admired him for that. His ways of always keeping calm in the face of enemy attack, always coming back strong, leaving your rivals either slaughtered or surrendering within minutes. He had his reputation, that’s for sure - but he was somehow everything and nothing like the standards he was upheld to. On the one hand, he was like the hard-edged man he was known to be, one of the best pirates out there, our ship, the celestial fleet, was one of the most beloved (by our allies) and the most feared (by our enemies). But on the other hand, he was the best partner you could’ve asked for. He was a very compassionate and loving man behind closed doors, especially when you layed in his quarters at night - but the rest of the crew didn’t need to know about that did they? 

His two sides were almost your favorite thing about him, seeing both of them made you special. Only the rest of the crew saw his tough side, but when it came to you, he always ensured you were loved, even if nobody else knew about it. He would assign the easier chores to you, making sure you were always taken care of and never harassed by your fellow crew mates because god damn anyone who dared to hit on you in front of Jake. And nobody knows; everyone just thought he was going easy on you because you were the only lady on the ship. After all, being the only lady on the ship meant two things for you. Number one - respect. Number two - you were damn good at stealing shit, so it was safe to assume everyone around knew you were too good to give up, especially Jake. 

So when you found yourself on the top deck of the ship directing your fellow crew mates, you couldn’t be more thankful for Captain Jake. 

He was sick, down with what he called “the sea coldness making him sick once a year because ‘the sea is a bitch!’” So he was resting in his quarters for the next two or so days until he recovered. Was he faking it because he was probably just lazy and didn’t want to deal with his crew when he knew that they weren’t treading on any enemy waters? Yes, most definitely. Did that make you love him any less? Not a single bit. 

He made you in charge for the foreseeable future as “his illness” had left him bedridden and you leading the ship was the only solution, or so he claimed. And you know what, that had to be the kindest gesture he had given you to date, well besides all the sex and nightly meet-ups in his quarters, but that’s beside the point. 

So here you are watching as your slightly useless crew mates try sweeping the water off the lower deck while the sea is still roaring from the last run-in you had with a storm a day ago.

“Hey, Sam! You realize how fucking useless that is right?” You called from the top deck. He looked back up at you, covering his eyes with his hand to protect you from the sun. “Well, at least I’m trying to get ahead of it!” He called back out. “Suit yourself then! I’m going to check back up on the captain.” You hollered out, walking down the stairs to the lower deck, and entering the trap door leading to the crew quarters. You hopped off the final stair making your way past all of the bunks reserved for your crew, reaching the door that led to Jake’s quarters. 

Knock, Knock. 

“Who is it!” He called out, obviously thinking you were one of your crewmates trying to complain about something. “Jake it’s me.” You called to him. “Oh, c’mon in.” His voice softened at your identity. You open the door to reveal him in only his white button-up shirt, half-buttoned, lying in bed. God was he a sight for sore eyes, his beauty overtaking you every time you laid eyes on him. “Why hello there.” 

You walk into his quarters slowly walking around to the side of his bed, gently laying a hand on his chest. “How are you feeling, Captain?” His gentle breaths make your hand rise and fall as he looks back up at you, putting on his best sickly performance in hopes you wouldn’t call him on his bullshit. “I’m feeling better every second you’re here.” He speaks weakly with a slight smile, god he was dramatic. “God, you’re playing this shit up aren’t you.” You ask, letting out a laugh as you look down to see his face morph into one best resembling an offended barkeeper you would typically manage to piss off after having a few too many, which is something Jake has managed to do many times. He let you a playfully shocked gasp, “How dare you suggest that I would fake an illness!” Laughing, you find yourself pulled on top of him on the bed. 

Jake laughs as he covers your face in playful kisses. “How have the boys been treatin’ ya, love?” He asks, his classic smile enchanting you more. “Well being completely honest, yes but I do believe Sam is a fucking idiot. He was trying to sweep water off the deck when it just kept coming back up onto it, and when I told him how stupid he was he just said that he was trying to get ahead of it.” 

“Well unfortunately hun I think that’s just how he is. You can't fix him, he’s just…Sam.” You let out a laugh at his admission. Jake takes his hands and rests them on your cheeks, soft for a pirate, rough for a human, the gentle median coming across in this perfect man. You look back into his eyes, they’re gentle, relaxed, and simply beautiful, just like him. 

“I love this side of you.”

“What side of me?”

“This one, it’s the only one I get to see.”

“Well…I’m glad you like it. And if it makes you feel better I’ll make sure only you get to see it.” 

You feel yourself smile uncontrollably at that, you feel your cheeks warm up in slight embarrassment. He takes your head and places it in the crook of his neck. “Let’s just rest here.” You hum in agreement with his statement. His warm chest brings such a sense of comfort. You find yourself being lulled to sleep via his rising and falling chest and the gentle rocking of the ship, sleeping peacefully amidst the sea and the only ground you find yourself on, Captain Jake. 

You wake up in the middle of the night.

Alone…

Interesting. 

You slowly gather the courage to get up and look around for Jake. You get up quietly and peek out the door. You see the rest of your crew sleeping in their bunks, Danny snoring while hanging half off the bed, bottle of rum 5 feet away from him. Josh isn’t even bothered enough to get in his bunk, instead opting to cuddle up next to Sam in what one can only assume to be a drunken attempt to sleep anywhere but the floor. But thankfully those three only stood out to you, the rest of them were peacefully sleeping in their bunks. You walk past them and silently open the trap door out to the deck. 

The cool chill of the ocean air makes goosebumps arise on your skin. The white dress you wear flows in the wind, not protected from the elements. You shut the door gently behind you. Looking out across the sea briefly, you call out for Jake. “Hello, darling! Lovely evening isn’t it?” his voice calls from above you. He’s in the crow's nest, looking back down at you. “Jake, what the hell are you doing up here this late? Even the boys went to bed already, and they drank.” You watch as he climbs down on the ratlines making an abrupt landing on the forecastle. “Come on up here m’lady.” He takes a little bow as he holds his hand out for you to join him. You jump up onto the steps leading you to him, being pulled up onto the upper platform as he greets you. 

“Why hello there, Captain.” 

“Why hello there first maiden.” 

“Oh, so I’m first maiden now?”

“Indeed.” 

He embraced you with fervor, his warmth being your grounding point out on the cold night sea. Your lips meet gently under the moonlight sky. Sweet kisses mixed with the faint taste of tobacco threw you for a loop. By the seconds that pass you can feel what started as quiet midnight endearments turn into lustful kisses under a blood moon night. Jake’s hands snaked around your hips, leading you onto the very upper deck of the ship, his hips meeting yours as he stood between your legs. 

You reach your hands down, feeling his half-covered chest, reaching down towards his stomach, then happy trial, till you finally meet the button of his pants. Jake lets out a whimper, muffled by the connection you two had. You feel Jake’s hips buck into your touch. Slowly, you unbutton his pants briefly breaking the connection you had with your lips. Lust fills the air between you both. You gently pull his boxers down pulling out his cock, Jake moans at the feeling of your stroking him, gathering the drops of pre-cum leaking out of his cock. “Baby-” you smile up at him, never slowing your heartless pace. You moan into a kiss with him, his touch electrifying you more than you already have the whole time you’ve been stroking him, mercilessly. 

“Stop, baby-” he lets out a pathetic lust-stricken sigh, catching his breath. “Not yet sweet girl,” You watch as Jake knees down and looks back up at you from his knees. His hands travel up under your dress encouraging you to reveal yourself. You answer the beckoning call, cool chill making you shake a little. You feel his lips gently tease at your thighs, climbing higher up along with you. Looking down, you see a god himself before you, gently teasing you up until he reaches your clit. 

“God I love this-” 

And then he dives in.

The initial shock of his warm tongue steals your breath out of your lungs. Gasping for air you feel the pleasure as he sucks and rubs and does everything right. 

Fuck, he was good at what he did. 

“Jak-” Another moan was unexpectedly stolen from your grasp, almost embarrassingly loud. You could feel the vibrations and hear Jake moan around your vulva. Two of his fingers enter your cunt, already throbbing and waiting for him not-so-patiently. You could already feel it in your gut, just teasing you, just like Jake would with his playful nature, both inside and outside the bedroom. And god, you fucking loved him. 

Then you feel it snap. 

Like a tsunami you feel your orgasm crash over you, leaving you in another astral plane. Blissfully, and proudly, Jake helped you ride out the high on his tongue and fingers. He slowly retracted them, leaving you painfully empty. You need him. Right here, right now. 

Jake quickly rose to his feet, his pants and boxers were already lost on the deck of the ship, presumably, he was touching himself while getting you off. He takes your hips and pulls them towards his painfully hard erection while stroking himself for a moment's relief. “Can I fuck you? Please bab-” “Yes, for the love of god Jake just fuck me-” His hardness slammed into you, quick and hard. A painfully obvious moan ripped through you, you can only pray that the rest of the crew were too drunk to wake up and overhear. 

“God I love you, sweetheart.” 

The world stopped for a brief moment. And although he was still pounding into you mercilessly, you could only feel what you believed to be whatever would be the closest to feeling your heart exploding and repairing itself again. 

“I love you too.” and you did, more than you could ever admit to even yourself. You could see it in Jake’s eyes, the realization of what he confessed. A smile bright as the sun quickly appeared across his face. He mashed his lips into yours begging for some sort of release - anything. And all he could think of was you. Just simply you. 

Jake’s pounds became more sloppy and hard. His moans quickened and turned into slight whimpers here and there. “Give me one more baby.” He made quick work of rubbing his thumb on your clit. You didn’t even know it before you were putty in his hands again. His hips stuttered to a stop, accompanied by his sweet sweet cries of pleasure, truly the best kind of music. You both found yourself slowly riding out an infinite high. He leaned you back on the deck, slowly pulling out of you with a sigh, making quick work of finding your dress and helping it back over your skin. He got himself back into his boxers and pants quickly too, then stopped in front of you, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“Did you mean it?” was all you heard, timid, but loud enough to make you feel like you found the fountain of youth. You place your hand on his cheek, a connection between the both of you.

“Of course I did. I always will,” you whisper into the void with him. He was your reality now, and that, to you, is the ultimate comfort. 

You watch as he smiles against your cheek, leaning back into you for another kiss. But it was different. Somehow the same method but the feeling felt like you were strewn across the night sky, as the stars and the moon. Intertwined with a unique love you could only get from him.

He breaks apart for you, locking eyes with you once more. You both let out a tiny laugh of your own. “Well, that was fun.” He confessed. “It’s always meant to be” you answer. Laughs plague the two of you for a brief moment. 

“You know what they say right?”

“What?”

“Sex with our kind is always the best, after all…” he trailed off, stopping what sounded like needed to be continued. 

“After all, what, Jake?” you laugh.

“We’re pirates, bitch!”

[satans-helper]

Scream for Me

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Jake Kiszka

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: smut!! [kind of a variation of a fear kink? Praise, dirty talking, non-penetrative sex] 18+ only!

A/N: In honor of continuing my Halloween season slash fics, I present to you Danny getting turned on when Jake gets scared. Hope you enjoy ;)

P.S. I'm posting this quite early in the month since I'm very much in the spirit AND I have a Danny x Josh fic and a Danny x Sam fic coming later, both Halloween-themed <3

---

Danny couldn’t believe the theme of the haunted hayride, which Jake had neglected to tell him about prior to buying tickets. Not that knowing it would have stopped him, it was just, as he relayed to Jake, “so 2016.” “The Year of the Clown” was long gone as far as he was concerned, and the thought of being preyed upon by guys dressed up in rainbow suits and copious amounts of makeup just sounded like a variation of playing a show. Jake, on the other hand, was brimming with nervous energy as he made the decision to knowingly torment himself.

“Aw, Jakey,” Danny said with genuine concern, wrapping his arm around him. They were stuck waiting in line for what felt like ages already, the night air feeling exceptionally chilly while being trapped in such a wide open space. It was nice to see the stars so vividly, Danny thought as he looked up, and the moon, which was a shockingly bright globe in the obsidian sky. The perfect kind of spooky October night.

“I’m just cold,” Jake replied, but Danny knew the slight tremors his body kept going through were more than from just the autumnal chill. He leaned into Danny’s touch all the same, snuggling against the denim jacket that was keeping Danny perfectly comfortable. 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Danny assured him, his gaze wandering over to the few stands of treats, the scent of fryer oil and popcorn wafting through the air. “Clowns are scary. You want a funnel cake?”

“You said clowns are outdated,” Jake reminded him, looking up at Danny with flushed cheeks. “I think you also said ‘boring.’”

“They’re not my thing,” Danny said with a sigh, foregoing the idea of funnel cakes. Jake hadn’t even wanted to smoke before this event, too worried he’d become paranoid and freak out even more. For a while, Danny didn’t understand why Jake wanted to do these scary things every Halloween season. Their time in the haunted cabin had been enough for him to believe that Jake wanted to avoid ghosts, ghouls, goblins and whatever else, real or not. But the more they went to haunted hayrides and haunted houses, walked along ghost tours, sat through spooky stories and horror movies with Josh and Sam, Danny realized that when Jake got scared, Danny got turned on. He didn’t know why, nor did he want to know why. He accepted that, no matter how tortuous it seemed, Jake loved being scared and Danny loved seeing him scared.

He hadn’t told Jake that though. This was their first Halloween together. He was still nervous about it. Way more nervous about that than about some silly clowns.

“Like they’re my thing?” Jake said with a scoff, burrowing further into Danny’s side. “I still remember that one from the haunted house last year. You know, the one that came at us with a hatchet?”

“Hey, Jake,” Danny began, speaking the words softly against the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Do you also remember that the hatchet was plastic?”

Jake groaned. “Okay, yeah, sure, it’s all fake. But it feels real.”

“That’s the point. Besides, I know you like it.”

Jake looked up again, dark eyes even darker in the night. “What else do I like, Danny?”

Danny chuckled, rubbing his hand over Jake’s shoulder. He definitely knew what he liked–seeing Jake all flustered and red-faced, hearing him gasp and pant, feeling the squeeze of his hand when things got intense. He thought about opening up about that, actually, revealing how much it turned him on to see Jake so vulnerable and feral, but then the line was moving.

“We’re up,” Danny said, freeing Jake from his hold, but Jake immediately latched onto his arm as they approached the wagon. 

Even their guide along the ride spooked Jake when he hopped onto the wagon–not a clown, but a huge–in both width and height–man dressed in bloody rags with fake scars and cuts all over his face. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man boomed, and Jake squished himself into Danny’s side even more. With that, the wagon started to roll shakily over the grass, and the guide began his formal introduction into, yes, what was still, apparently, the year of the clown. 

There wasn’t much happening during the first couple minutes of meandering through the field, but whenever a distant shout, grunt or scream could be heard, Jake trembled. Danny held him close and watched–he wouldn’t get as scared as Jake would, but he could still get spooked, and he had to admit that the atmosphere was pretty chilling. 

“We must beware the apple orchard,” the guide said, his voice unnaturally low but quieter as he addressed the crowd huddled together on the edges of the cart. “What was once an innocent field of fruit now bears something insidious. Something demonic.” At that, Danny felt Jake stiffen beside him. “Unnatural creatures have made this place their home. If we move swiftly, we might just–”

A girl sitting nearby shrieked as something–a clown, of course–charged through the trees, swinging a bloody machete. Danny felt himself stiffen with anticipation while Jake hooked his arm around his middle, both of them silent. The clown that had terrorized the girl was making his rounds, bobbing around the edges of the cart and pretending to slash people with his blade. 

“Oh god, no!” Jake yelped when the clown thrust himself toward him and Danny, and Danny fought the instinct to kick the clown away. If it were a real threat, he thought to himself, he’d do anything possible to protect Jake. He hoped that his boyfriend knew that. 

What was just a few seconds must have felt like an eon for Jake, who was still shaking with adrenaline after the clown simmered and was left behind, waving the machete as the wagon moved onward. Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his eyes roaming the apple trees as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” Jake said, bringing one hand to his chest. “But I might not be by the end of this.”

But Jake persevered through the apple orchard. He survived the small flurry of clowns that attacked with various weapons, shrieking and cackling and making the entire wagon shriek in response; Danny, meanwhile, found that he was paying far more attention to Jake than anything else. It was hard not to. He was so in tune with him–how tightly he was holding his breath and the sound of his voice, how it changed when he got scared, becoming a little higher and rougher. He was also very aware of how snugly Jake was impressed upon him, like he was permanently glued to him and Danny liked it that way. 

Even Danny felt a little uneasy though when the wagon came to a complete stop inside of a barn. It was completely dark except for intermittent splashes of red and white light, allowing him to see the fake blood on the walls, the bones and fake severed limbs, the eerie clown paintings. Everything was complete with a huge fake corpse hanging overhead. 

“A mechanical problem,” the guide announced. “Unfortunate to stop here, but I’m sure we’ll be moving again shortly.”

“Danny…” Jake said quietly, squeezing his hand around Danny’s wrist so hard it actually hurt. 

Of course, as soon as Jake said that, demonic laughter echoed from all around. Jake squeezed even tighter but Danny didn’t move. Jake needed him in that moment and there was nothing hotter than that, and not even the sudden onslaught of grating music and the laughter growing louder as an impressively large clown shot out from the darkness could take away his own thrills. Jake began clawing desperately at Danny’s arm with one hand and gripping his thigh with the other, squeaking and whimpering right next to his ear, but the clown decided to terrify the group of people on the opposite side.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Jake said with a hard exhale when the wagon abruptly started to roll again. But the huge clown ran toward it and Danny was shocked that the clown zeroed in on them next, trying to fake-slash at both of their legs. Jake squealed and really did try to kick the clown away, which made Danny laugh. Jake yelped again and begged, “Danny, help!”

The clown grinned wildly, teeth covered in fake blood, but the wagon sped up; Danny watched as the clown finally stayed motionless, which was actually more ominous to him than the man moving, giving Jake some room to breathe. Danny wrapped his arm around him once more. “It’s over, Jake,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that was the big finale.”

Indeed it was. All that was left were lingering screams and maniacal laughter, which kept Jake’s hands all over Danny until they were back to the beginning. Those hands and that tight little body so close to his during their short night of terror had elicited a different sort of adrenaline rush within Danny, so intense by the time they were getting off the wagon that he knew he needed to finally do something about it. But now Jake actually wanted a funnel cake, and patience was a virtue Danny proudly possessed. 

Jake was frantically munching on the fried dough, powdered sugar sticking to his fingers, while they sat on the hood of Danny’s car. Danny couldn’t keep one thing to himself much longer. “You’re so cute,” he said. It was ordinary, something any boyfriend would say, but when Jake looked up at him, he added, “Even cuter when you’re scared.”

Jake’s eyes widened and he paused chewing for a moment, looking perplexed. When he resumed finishing that bite, he shook his head before meeting Danny’s gaze again. “Cute when I’m scared?” he repeated with suspicion, narrowing his eyes.

Danny reached over and stole a piece of funnel cake for himself. “Yeah. You are.” Jake just kept looking at him, so Danny shrugged. “What? I can’t be the first person to point that out.”

“Uh, yeah you are, Danny.”

That sort of pleased him, actually. Danny looped his arm around Jake’s waist. “It kinda turns me on, honestly.”

Jake coughed into his arm, powdered sugar dotting the sleeve. “Really?”

“Yeah. You get all flustered. You hold onto me all tight,” Danny told him, still feeling the ghost of Jake’s hand wrapped painfully around his wrist. “It makes me feel like you need me.”

“I do need you.” Jake hopped off to toss the paper plate into a nearby trash can. He put his hands on his hips when he turned back around to face him. “But you didn’t save me from that last clown.”

Danny slid off the hood and went to him, circling Jake into a loose hug. “If a real psychotic clown were after you, I’d save you. I’d do anything for you.” One part of their relationship he was still getting used to because it scared him more than clowns or ghosts or demons ever could–PDA. He lifted Jake’s face to his and kissed him; Jake’s hands gripped the open body of Danny’s jacket, showing that, yes, he really did need him. When Danny pulled back, Jake looked calm again. “You really do turn me on when you get scared, Jake,” Danny told him, holding the sides of his face. “I guess that makes me weird. But, whatever. I’m glad you’re so into the spooky shit since it pays off for me.”

Jake pursed his lips a little, a quizzical look on his pretty face. “How come I never get to see you scared?”

“There’s only one thing that scares me.”

“Which is?”

Danny moved his hands to Jake’s shoulders. “Losing you. Losing Josh and Sam.” 

Jake’s hands gently squeezed Danny’s waist. “Oh come on, Danny. That’ll never happen. We’re way more likely to get attacked by a psycho clown.”

Danny laughed and began to steer Jake to the car. That reassurance meant everything to him. Sometimes he worried, felt that dreadful fear, that someday it would all be gone and nothing truly scared him like that thought. And now, still feeling residual arousal from Jake’s terror and the swell of love in his heart, he needed to finally get his own kicks tonight. 

“You’re brave,” Danny said softly while he walked behind Jake, reaching in front of him to get the back passenger door open. “You keep doing these things even though you know they scare you.”

“I think that’s called ‘stupidity,’ Danny,” Jake replied, then looked back over his shoulder. “Why are we going back here?”

“You got to feel such a rush tonight,” Danny told him, urging him to get in the backseat. With a curious look, Jake did, tucking his legs in, and Danny followed. “Can I get mine?” He kept moving forward, pushing Jake onto his back, and didn’t wait for a reply. He just kissed his beautiful, valiant boyfriend, gripping Jake’s sides to start feeling for the warmth of his skin beneath the layers of clothing.

Jake kissed him back, bringing his hands to Danny’s hair, tugging lightly. Danny took that invitation and ran with it, the rush of his own lust and love churning to life again; he kissed deep and slow, how his instincts often guided him when it came to Jake. He was so precious–the thought of ever losing him really did terrify Danny. Danny wanted to keep him safe forever, to make Jake feel nothing but completely adored. 

When Danny’s hand made it down to the fly of Jake’s jeans, Jake said, “Someone might see.”

Danny pressed his lips to his neck. “I’m not afraid of that.” Those soft kisses elicited the quiet little moans he was after; Jake was so responsive to him even if he was a little worried about catching a glimpse of what they were doing in the dark. Jake clutched to him fiercely when Danny got his fly undone and slipped his hand past the denim and cotton boxers, wiggling against the seat.

“You deserve to feel good after all that shit out there,” Danny said, lifting himself up enough to spit into his hand. Jake squirmed even more when that hand was brought down to his cock, growing harder with each stroke Danny offered. 

“What about you?” Jake asked between another exchange of lips and tongue; Danny was back to kissing him all that he could. It was all he ever needed sometimes, Danny felt–anything else was a bonus. 

“This is what I need. To make you feel good. To show you that I’m here,” Danny told him as Jake’s fingers raked through his hair. Jake moaned a little louder at that, arching into his touch. Danny’s urgency revved up at the enthusiastic response, and he wished for more of this, for Jake to be so vividly his all the time. They’d get there, he knew, and he was ultimately absolutely fine with taking things slowly. There was a beauty in that. And right now, he might not have been able to see much of Jake as he wanted, but he could feel him–the rapid flutter of his pulse, the rising and falling of his chest, the warmth of his skin which became even warmer after every press of Danny’s lips. 

Jake reached down, feeling more for himself, and Danny’s breath tightened at the slight squeeze around his own cock, still so stiff and wanting, trapped underneath his pants. “I wanna make you feel good too, Danny.” 

Danny couldn’t say no to that. He hastily got his dick out with one hand, sat back, feet on the floor, and brought Jake to a sitting position in his lap. “You make me feel good all the time,” he said, bringing his hands to Jake’s hips, urging him to ride as if they were actually fucking. Jake did, working into a steady sequence of shallow humps that rubbed their cocks together. Danny groaned softly, blinking through the dark, small space to see as much as he could. “Oh my god, Jake–my brave boy, so fucking hot.” The words were unconscious, instinctive–with Jake, Danny struggled to have a filter. He realized Jake actually liked it that way. “Love seeing you tremble. Love hearing you gasp. I love when you do it for me.”

“Who knew,” Jake began with a harsh roll of his hips. “That you were such a freak.” The sentence ended with a huff and he dove forward to smother Danny with wet, hurried kisses. He stuffed a hand between them, too small to wrap all the way around both of their leaking erections but Danny moaned with appreciation at the effort and the added friction. Jake touching him anywhere in anyway drove him crazy.

The sudden glow of yellow headlights behind them allowed Danny to see him more completely, and the sight of him with his pink cheeks, soft gaze from his dark eyes and crumpled collar just fueled his inner frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so fucking cute, so pretty,” he breathed out raggedly, fumbling with that disshelved shirt to get it unbuttoned. When he did, he cupped Jake’s hip with one hand and felt along his chest with the other, tweaking a nipple and making Jake shudder just like he wanted. “My brave boy is so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot riding me.” The headlights disappeared and Danny pulled him forward, latching onto his neck with his teeth as he shot between them, a trail of sticky wetness on his shirt and Jake’s bare stomach. 

He’d fully intended for Jake to finish first. He grabbed Jake’s ass and started doing the work, grinding up into him and thrusting them together even harder despite his spent dick feeling a little just over the edge of being too sensitive. Jake’s increasingly loud moans and curses were music to Danny’s ears; those hands on his shoulder and in his hair were the grounding pull he needed to always feel. 

“So strong,” Jake noted quietly while Danny kept him in motion. He pressed his face to the side of Danny’s neck, the soft whimpers trickling through Danny’s ear. “You’d really do anything for me?”

Danny nodded, squeezing his ass. “Anything, baby. Right now, I wanna make you come.” He found the space between them and took Jake’s cock in his hand, stroking as Jake kept grinding on top of his thighs. “One of these days, I’m gonna make you scream for me.” 

Just as Danny lifted Jake’s mouth to his again, he stifled what Danny knew would have been a sharper, louder sound if they were somewhere private. Instead, a whimper escaped his lips and he stiffened, tightening up severely before he quickly went slack, body loose and heavy atop Danny’s own.

Not dissimilar to how it had been earlier in the night, Jake snuggled into him, resting his face in the crook of Danny’s neck with a sigh. “I’ve known you how many years, Danny?” he began, and Danny could feel him smiling. “Yet you continue to surprise me.”

Danny held him, stroking his hands along Jake’s back. “Hopefully in a good way and not like those clowns tearing out of the woods.”

Jake planted a big kiss to Danny’s forehead before sliding off to the side, tucking himself back into his jeans. “You continue to surprise me in the best way.” He sighed, resting his head in his hand, leaning against the seat, and smiled a little. “I know you��d do anything for me. For any of us. Same goes for us, to you, you know.”

Danny reached out, taking Jake’s other hand to hold between them. “I know.”

The smile grew, turning a little salacious. “So does this mean you’ll take me to that haunted house next weekend?” 

Danny lifted Jake’s hand to kiss his knuckles. “Anything you want. But does that mean we get to fuck around again after?”

Jake laughed, head thrown back. “Yeah, sure, as long as you protect me from all the monsters.” 

---

Tagging: @mackalah @kissingthegoat @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

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[seenoversundown]

Helloooooo GVF Fic writers! Let’s get romantic with some Valentine’s Day writing 😍🫦 Prompts are below but the important stuff first! ((This is inspired by @hearts-hunger Halloween event 🫶🏻)) ❤️The Rules🩷

🩷Pick a prompt from the list below and write about it! The prompts range from sweet to a little spicy, but you’re welcome to adjust the spice level on any of the prompts. (Measure with your heart) On your post, please note which prompt (or prompts) you picked for your fic!

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🩷Fics can be written for any kind of pairings — x reader, slash, platonic, x oc, multi, whatever floats your boat! Any length fic is allowed (blurbs, oneshots, series) and all genres are welcomed! (From toothachingly sweet fluff to white knuckle gripping your bedsheets smut) 

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• Picnic

• Bowling

• Cooking (together / for the other person / a class)

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• Scavenger Hunt

• Watch the sun rise / set

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• DIY Boudoir Photo Shoot

• Facetime date (if they're apart)

• Write each other love notes!

• Play Truth or Dare ( Could be spicy 😉 )

• …any romantic-Valentines Day inspired theme 🩷🤭 (feel free to tag me and I’ll reblog if it’s on theme honestly!)

tag your favorite writers or reblog to spread the word!

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Fire/Fear

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner | Rated Explicit | Words: 8.4k

Warnings: Language, smut, passing out

Summary: A hurt/comfort fic that turns into soft smut where the fires onstage are entirely too hot, Sam becomes overprotective, and Danny has to get permission from a doctor to canoodle with his boyfriend.

Written for, in collaboration with, and edited by @gretavanfreaky

Author's Note(s): PLEASE let me know if you don't want to be on the taglist for Sanny fics or other slash fics; I know this isn't everyone's jam, so I don't want to be the one to tag you in things you don't want to read. You can stay on the general taglist, I'll just take you off any Sanny works! Enjoy this fic that has been sitting dormant in my Google Docs for a year (don't worry, I edited it first)! Also, I'm going to fix my Masterlist links and then try to finish the Danny x Reader "Stroke Me" by Billy Squier fic!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

Sam had really been into the pyrotechnics this tour.

Everyone always thought that Josh was the pyromanic, but Sam had always given him a run for his money when it came to the admiration for fire, heat, danger, the pure destructive power that was just so damn beautiful and wily.

But Sam was not one to wax poetic - that was definitely Josh’s area of expertise. 

See, Sam was into the pyrotechnics this tour, but also…

Danny.

Or more specifically, Danny and his proximity to the flames and the resulting hot, sweaty, beast of a boyfriend who gleamed a soft orange in the reflection of the fire on his sweat for Sam’s viewing pleasure. Many a show had Sam been distracted by the way rivulets of water would run down his body (often shirtless half-way through the show just from the sweltering temperatures, which was another bonus) when he took rushed, poorly-aimed swigs from his bottle, or the picture of Danny, drumsticks raised high and a smile on his face as he was surrounded by flames. And, as strange as it sounded, something about the smell of smoke and Danny was just…infinitely hot to Sam.

Not to mention – in the name of saving water (save the Earth and all) - the shared showers afterwards.

But as incredibly sexy as his boyfriend was, how the fire made him light up, and how he loved both components of that equation, Sam would have nixed the idea of even a lighter on stage before Josh had even submitted the idea to their tour manager and props guy. It wouldn’t have even crossed the threshold of conception had he known that it would end in a crash and a few screams and the leading thought of holy fuck did we accidentally just set my boyfriend on fire?

Luckily, they hadn’t. But, here, laying in bed with a peaceful Danny in the aftermath of the incident, Sam couldn’t recall what exactly had happened, or if he’d been the one screaming, or whether the scuffed paint and bent tuner peg on his bass could have been avoided.

All he could remember was that even through the smoke and heat and fire, the fear had been icy cold and skin-meltingly hot all at the same time, and he’d thought he was going to throw up when a bunch of stage hands rushed over with water and towels to where Danny was usually poised like a greek god.

The big man stirred against Sam; the doctors said that his body, due to a lack of sleep and a built-up exhaustion, would take a little longer to recover and come to than normal. And sure enough, it had been hours - 3, to be exact - since that awful event and since Danny had been moved at Sam’s unwavering command back to their hotel room, where he’d cranked up the AC, put pillows under Danny’s feet, and had three gatorades and five water bottles waiting on the bedside table.

One big sigh left Danny’s lips and fanned across Sam’s neck. “You haven’t showered yet, have you?”

Finally, after what felt like an excruciating lifetime, Danny was awake. 

Sam grabbed a gatorade immediately and turned in his spot so that he could face Danny on the bed, unable to meet his eyes properly as he snapped the lid off the bottle. “Stop commenting on my personal hygiene and drink, fire boy.”

Not even a hello.

Perhaps it was the lack of Sam’s usual jests and snap-backs that alerted Danny to the fact that something was wrong – still, at least – but he drained half of the bottle in one go regardless of Sam’s demand, sipping on it more when Sam fixed him with a glare that said ‘you’d better finish that.’ “You know, you don’t have to–”

“Do you remember what happened?”

They spoke at the same time, but Danny let Sam go first, quick to playfully roll his eyes but always the gentleman. Usually the gentleman – ask Sam on any given night and he might just give you an overexaggerated wink and smirk. “Yes, Sam. I remember everything that happened up until the point that I actually passed out. I don’t have amnesia, you dork.”

Sam scoffed – he was no expert on the mechanics of what really happened when one passes out. Not when it wasn’t alcohol-related, at least, and even then, he’d left (most) of those days behind in his younger years. But, you know - fuck him for being a concered and invested boyfriend, apparently.

“Oh, well, sorry I’m not in the habit of passing out, I guess,” Sam snarked back. Danny just laughed good-naturedly at him and placed a sloppy kiss on Sam’s cheek. But Sam was curious. It was already established that he’d been too hopped-up on adrenaline to properly remember the exact order of events, and he wanted Danny’s perspective. “Just for shits and giggles,” he ventured, and Danny hummed for him to go on, “uh…what did happen? I mean, from where you were sitting,” Sam clarified quickly - again, a little embarrassed of his reaction and inability to remember the entirety of the event himself.

Danny finished off the bottle and battled with Sam for a moment when Sam tried to replace it with a water bottle before he even had the chance to throw the empty one in his hand away. “Chill the fuck out for a second, Sam,” Danny giggled, trying to push away the bottle without spilling any of the contents on either of them. “I just drank that gatorade in like…two minutes flat. Give me a break.”

“The doctor said you have to get fluids in you!” Sam insisted, forcefully pushing the water on Danny, but not exactly wrestling the man for fear of…well, he wasn’t quite sure he could place the fear yet. “And gatorade has so much sugar - you need water.”

Finally, Danny grabbed hold of Sam’s wrist tightly and stopped his attack, looking him in the eyes and seeing remnants of that worry Sam had felt on stage. “I will,” he promised sweetly, taking the bottle because he knew Sam’s intentions were pure, but…not very well executed. “Just, on my time and not shoved down my throat, please.”

Sam grumbled his assent, but kept an eagle eye on the water, making sure Danny didn’t put it down.

“Now,” Danny continued once they settled back down, “I started feeling a little weird after my solo.”

…

The show had started off like many of the other ones on the tour had. Not that it wasn’t memorable in its own way, or boring whatsoever, but - doing relatively the same sets every few days created a nice little flow that was conducive to the beat Danny could put out. It was what he was best at, after all - consistency and rhythm, the heartbeat and drum. 

Besides, Josh’s antics could never allow for a boring show, and with Sammy right by his side, Danny could pick a moment in time at random and would gladly live in it forever - tour, venue, song, crowd, or day be damned.

…

“Such a sap,” sighed Sam. But internally, he was swooning. He was a big swooner, but he’d never let Danny get away with the cheesy stuff without just a little bit of ribbing.

“Shut up and let me tell the story.”

“Drink your water.”

“Sam.”

…

So the show had started off well, and the crowd was alive and Josh was inciting even more energy that Danny pushed to match – he was feeding off of the exhilarating feeling of giving the people what they wanted, hearing them chant his name, the drive to prove just how good he was and how he contributed to the band.

It didn’t occur to him until his thirst nearly distracted him from his kit that he’d forgotten to drink water throughout the entire first half of the set.

And he was going to - he was - but then Jake’s ‘WAH’ pedal went out and he was informed via his in-ear that his solo was moving up a spot while the techs worked their magic. He didn’t have time to crack the bottle open and forgot about the water, too focused on his job and finishing the song and making the transition into his solo as seamless as possible. 

Did his eyesight go fuzzy here and there? Yeah. But his focus on the kit in front of him was unflappable - ultimately, he was no stranger to fuzzy vision every now and then when he played hard. All he knew was that he was just really fucking hot on top of everything with the periodic explosive columns of flames at his back.

It was only after he raised his sticks to let the anticipation of the beat to the next song lengthen that he caught himself from dropping them in a sudden loss of strength. Again, though - they were approaching the last stretch of the tour and were all hanging onto their mortal bodies as best they could. Fatigue in all forms was to be expected. Perhaps not in the middle of a show, but who really had control over that?

So he went on, and water was pushed to the wayside again when Jake pulled the ‘faster, faster, faster’ gag that had been running since the day Danny had stepped foot in their garage with a pair of drumsticks in his hand - to test his compatibility and chops as a drummer, could Danny actually listen? Could he pick up on the slightest tempo change and keep the band centered?

He could, and Danny would do it back every so often - pick the pace up and grin watching the others adjust - but this time, he was struggling. He was feeling a little sick halfway into their little game, and he wanted to slow down, but it wasn’t like he was gonna lose to Jake.

…

“So it was Jake’s fault,” Sam accused with a frown, throwing the gatorade bottle that had never made it off the bed in the direction of the wastebasket on the other side of the room.

He missed.

“No, it’s not Jake’s fault,” Danny said as he finally took a swig of the water, raising his brows in embellishment as if to say, ‘see? Drinking,’ to Sam’s concern. “It was mine for being stupid enough to not drink water at all during the show. Rookie move.”

Sam took one of Danny’s hands, tender and soft despite his calluses, and started massaging the muscles and joints that helped get them to where they were today. It was a little out of the ordinary - not to say that Sam neglected Danny at all, but this little touch of intimacy was more direct than Sam usually tried to make it. Danny didn’t say anything of it in fear that Sam would pull back; he quite loved moments like this, and he hoped his sigh of satisfaction and pleasure was just enough to get that message across without embarrassing Sam.

“I mean, yeah, maybe it was something a noob would do, but you’re not allowed to take the blame since you almost fucking died,” Sam declared, only a slight waver to the last word. He didn’t actually think that Danny had almost died, but he also didn’t want to think about where they would be if the flames had caught Danny’s fluffy hair, or the material of his outfit, and they actually did set his boyfriend on fire.

Danny gently booped Sam’s nose with the cold, damp bottle in his hand. “I didn’t ‘almost fucking die’,” Danny responded with a chuckle. “And it doesn’t always have to be someone’s fault, Sammy. These things happen. You know that it’s just part of the trade - the heat, the sweat, and…sometimes the fainting, I guess.”

Sam did know that - after all, he’d been videoed struggling at that stupid-hot show in Texas, and then there was that one in Cali that had him all out of sorts, and the…well, in any capacity, Sam knew that it was a part of the trade. Just, maybe not for Danny. Because if something happened to Danny, Sam was embarrassingly dependent on the man for support during their tours - especially since they’d been together together.

The twins had each other to lean on, and Sam had Danny - in all regards.

Sam wiped the bead of water that came from the condensation off his nose. “Well, we didn’t need the fire to make it worse. I’m still blaming both the twins now,” he pouted. “Josh for having the fire in the first place and Jake for egging you on.”

Danny laughed, and the sound vibrated from his chest into Sam’s, from his mouth into Sam’s ears, and it was wonderful. “I think you just want to be mad at someone, and you’re used to it being them,” he teased, even though there was likely some truth in that statement. “I see the way you look at me during shows - I don’t think you want to hate the fire. Plus, if I remember correctly, you were the fire’s biggest supporter.”

The soft, wispy feeling of Sam’s hair against his cheeks and chin made Danny sputter and spit, but Sam kept his proximity, still putting pressure into Danny’s hand as he grumbled, “Well, feelings change. It assaulted my boyfriend and if anything’ll get you on my bad side, that’s it.” Danny wasn’t sure if that particular concept applied to only the fire, but Sam seemed to be in a mood, so he didn’t comment. “So, what happened next?”

Danny, remembering that he’d been telling a story, relaxed into Sam’s expert masseuse skills and continued.

…

It had been Jake to notice first, though. He’d looked back with a smirk after a few beats into the next song, but the smirk had dropped off immediately once he’d caught sight of Danny’s ashy complexion, noticeable even in the firelight. 

He had been a little surprised Sam didn’t notice either, but “Caravel” was his time to shine, and he must have been working the crowd at the front of the stage.

Danny’s gaze had seemed a little glazed over and just not quite right when Jake did catch his eye to get an ‘ok’. But Danny had given it to him regardless, and he didn’t blame Jake for taking it at face value in the moment - he knew that Jake would have checked in on him at his next convenience, but solos weren’t to be trifled with.

He’d tried to push through the sudden onslaught of blurry vision and nausea and dizziness, but when he stood up to finish out the main set, he knew he was going down in that instant. It was all he could do to at least try to sit back down and lean forward, hoping that it would keep him from pitching back anywhere close to the fire, and his last thought before it went dark?

He should have drank some water.

…

“I should have known,” Sam said quietly. “I should have been paying attention.”

Danny felt for him - because if it had been Sam who’d passed out instead of him, he’d feel the same way. Why hadn’t he seen the signs? What could he have done differently? What if, what if, what if.

He drained the last of the water bottle and pitched it over in the same direction the gatorade had gone, uncaring if it hit its mark or not, and drew Sam in for a cuddle. Sam clutched at him, lightly brushing his hand down Danny’s back, just glad to have him there in their bed and not in a hospital. 

“There’s nothing you could have done, sweetheart,” Danny insisted gently. It wasn’t often that he called Sam petnames, but his boy seemed to need the extra comfort at the moment. “It happened so fast - literally within the span of like, two songs.”

“Yeah. Two songs I wasn’t looking at you for.” Sam sighed and shifted his weight to his elbow, drawing himself up so that he could look down at Danny with a severe expression. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of tour,” he warned, but Danny just laughed at him and pulled him the rest of the way on top of his body.

Two things happened, then. 

Sam started frantically struggling to get off of Danny and, in the process, his hand pressed down on Danny’s bladder – which was now full of two bottles of fluids – who was suddenly very aware of how badly he needed to pee.

“Okaaaaaay,” Danny hissed, covering his crotch and rolling Sam off at the same time before he hit another extremity, “what the fuck, Sam?”

“I don’t want to hurt you! That’s gonna make you too hot!” Sam huffed, standing up so that he was completely off the bed. 

Danny took a deep breath and shot Sam a small, disgruntled glare and trudged to the bathroom. “What ever happened to me being the hurt one? Shouldn’t I get what I want?” he grumbled, pouting and not even trying to hide it. “And not getting punched in the groin?”

They bickered from separate rooms as Danny relieved himself and Sam gingerly got back onto the bed, sitting against the pillows instead of laying down. Danny frowned when he saw the change in position, but got in bed anyways, plastering himself against Sam’s side in protest as he draped his arm around his waist and let it hang heavy there.

When Sam didn’t say anything, Danny decided to make the ending of his story clear. “So, yeah. That’s what happened,” he said. “I remember waking up once in the green room, but passed out pretty quickly again, and then we were here.” Sam nodded and sighed again, and Danny took his hand, his own anxiety growing at the silence. “Hey…I love you,” he said quietly, abruptly; he was a little bit worried about Sam’s lack of response and wanted the assurance of his voice – Sam was still trying to find his comfort, and Danny wanted to contribute as much as he could. 

Even as crazy about the other as they were, the two men didn’t often exchange the words unless they were whispered into skin after sex or right before they fell asleep, when their bodies were curled around each other and created a space for feelings to spill out in an exhale just before they lost consciousness.

It hadn’t been Sam’s intention to cause Danny unease in the wake of his silence, but in the retelling of the events leading up to it, he’d begun piecing together what happened immediately after. That’s what he’d been thinking of – that’s what he’d been deliberating on.

“I love you, too,” Sam returned, planting a small kiss on the back of Danny’s hand and gratefully accepting Danny’s form of reassurance.

There was a small squeeze from Danny’s fingers that caught Sam’s attention, and he lifted his head to meet Danny’s eyes. “Your turn.”

“My turn to do what?”

“Story time,” Danny said, as if it was obvious. “I told my end, I wanna know what happened after I passed out.”

Sam tried not to blush, but since his memory was coming back, he really couldn’t help it. “I don’t really remember much,” he said vaguely. “I mean…you passed out, we took care of you, and that’s it.”

Danny was quiet for a second, and Sam looked up to see if he’d bought his half-truth.

He hadn’t.

“Bull. Shit.” Danny intoned, letting his hand go to cross his arms. “I’ll just ask Jake or Josh tomorrow if you don’t tell me. Come on, Sam - I deserve to know.”

Sam thought about how he’d feel if he’d been the one doing the passing out, and - yeah…he’d want to know, too. So, he sighed and thought back to the bang, crash, scream, and panic.

…

Danny did pass out forward – right into his kit. 

That was where the bang and the crash came from - Sam had looked because that wasn’t part of the show, and if Danny was gonna improvise, it was gonna be at least a little bit rhythmic, not the all-in-one drum slam noise that came from his direction. And where he’d been expecting Danny to be grinning at his joke, maybe blushing because he dropped something by mistake, he was met with the sight of the listless body of his boyfriend slumped over his kit, panicked stage hands yelling and rushing over to him.

“Danny!” 

There was no hesitation in Sam’s action when he was faced with the decision of the man behind the drums or the call of the crowd. He threw the strap of his bass off his shoulder without a second thought, not even concerned with the grating, cringe-producing sound of it hitting and slapping against the hard stage floor, feedback scratching from his speakers.

As soon as he was within distance of Danny, he had his hands on him, another addition to the wet rags and ice packs that had materialized in the crew’s hands. “What’s wrong? What the fuck happened? Why is he– is he okay?”

The twins were quickly by his side, asking the same questions, stress evident on their faces. The medic on staff was shooing people back, snapping at them to give Danny some air, but Sam refused to leave his side, selfish as it may have been.

She bent over the unconscious man, feeling his pulse and completing a quick once over as the stretcher was brought over. “I think…this looks like heat syncope,” she said, feeling Danny’s pulse and face. “Heat exhaustion. Come on, let’s get him on a stretcher and off the stage - he needs to get away from the fire and lights.”

A few people began easing him back and lining him up with the hard, orange stretcher many of the venues came equipped with, and Josh put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Go with him. We’ll do damage control and find you soon.”

Sam’s tunnel vision opened up a little bit to include the murmurs of the crowd, hesitant titters flowing throughout the big venue. “Yeah,” he said, nodding, “thank you.”

He followed the line of people off-stage, catching a few comforting words coming out of Josh’s mouth assuring the crowd that Danny was alright and that he’d just gotten a little too hot. But he lost them as they got further away from the stage.

“I told you that he needed more ventilation back there four shows ago,” the medic said sharply to the stage manager. The stage manager was quick to defend himself, saying that ventilation other than a fan was practically impossible unless she wanted him to rearrange the entire venue. “The fire was a bad idea,” she mumbled, obviously trying to keep that opinion to herself with two members of the band (if you counted the one who was passed out cold), but Sam still caught it.

The fucking fire.

The culprit, and by proxy - Josh.

Back in the green room, with cold rags covering almost every inch of skin Danny had to offer without being indecent, Sam listened to the medic arguing with the tour manager about hospitalization. If it was serious enough, whether or not they’d even admit him, if they should go now or wait until he woke up - but ultimately decided that they’d see where they stood once Danny woke up.

“We should leave him here, try not to move him.”

As soon as the suggestion was thrown out, Sam immediately vetoed it. “No. The venue needs to close and we don’t know when he’s gonna wake up. Plus the A/C is spotty - the hotel will be more comfortable.” He left out the small component of added privacy back at the hotel - that they’d be in their room where there weren’t crew members continuously walking through and Sam’s concern and his yearning to touch and cuddle and mother his boyfriend would be out of reach of prying eyes.

“Sam–” the medic tried to reason.

Sam didn’t want to be disrespectful - he knew that the medic had a much more extensive knowledge of what Danny was going through at the moment, but Danny was gonna wake up, and he knew his boyfriend would rather wake up in a private room rather than one where he’d feel as though he was imposing. 

“No,” Sam said again. “It’s not like he has a head injury. He’s safe to move and I know that’ll be harder to do than leaving him here and I’m sorry about that, but –”

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and a voice at his ear. “Sam, stop it.” Jake had come into the room without Sam noticing and had seen the beginnings of his tantrum. “They’re thinking of Danny. Don’t try to make it seem like they aren’t – we’re all worried.”

The stern, scolding manner of Jake’s voice ticked Sam off in just the right way. Maybe he was overreacting, but who could really blame him? He was about to snap back when the door opened again.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Josh’s voice filtered in from where he’d entered, and Sam turned from one twin to the other to poke his brother aggressively in the chest, garnering a shocked, very confused, and a little bit indignant reaction from Josh. “Hey!”

“It was too much fire, asshole!”

Even Sam was a little taken aback at the hostility in his voice. He needed to tone it down or he’d create another problem for himself – he knew he wasn’t actually angry at Josh, but the stress was getting to him and his brain had latched onto that idea of the fire being too much and, subsequently, Josh’s request back when the tour was still being planned for, when he quoted, “As much fire as fucking possible.”

Sam sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, putting his hand up in surrender and in a silent apology, to which Josh nodded infinitesimally. Sam was grateful for the unspoken language that all four of them had managed to perfect with the time they spent in each others’ presence. “We’re not Metallica,” he said, softer, with a croak and a swallow that punctuated the end. “We don’t need this.”

Josh looked a little guilty and Sam knew he’d feel bad later.

…

“Do you?”

Sam knew what Danny was asking and bobbled his head. “A little bit. I think he knew that I was just stressed. A little frantic.” 

Danny’s arms wrapped tighter around Sam and bodily moved them down the bed so that they could snuggle, despite Sam’s weak protests. “I’m actually a little bit cold, now,” Danny reasoned, slipping a hand underneath Sam’s shirt to rub his thumb against his ribs. “I think maybe you should apologize.” Sam scoffed at the prospect, but Danny continued, “It’s not his fault. Or the fire’s. Really.”

The groan that came from Sam’s mouth was long and whiny. “But it contributed to it,” Sam stressed. He knew Danny was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So, with one last groan, he turned away from Danny and reached for the hotel phone.

“You have a cell phone, you know,” Danny said amusedly. “What if he’s asleep?”

Sam rejected the concept. “As if. And if he is, then he’ll wake up. Also, you need food in your stomach. Want a smoothie or something? I can call down to room service.” Danny was about to answer when Sam raised his eyebrows over his shoulder. “But no fast food stuff. Or soup. Or pizza. Too much salt - that’ll just dehydrate you.”

Danny pouted. “But I wanted Dairy Queen. And the kitchen will be closed by now - we’ll have to order out.”

“Fine,” Sam conceded. “But choose something else. Please,” he tacked on at Danny’s unimpressed stare.

“Yes, mother.” They eventually settled for a couple of salads from a late-night restaurant nearby that would be delivered by the hotel to their room. As Danny was placing the order (and sneaking a large order of fries to share in), Sam called Josh’s room, listening for two tones before the man picked up.

The conversation was short, and Josh said that he understood, admitting that even he hadn’t been thinking of the heat-related consequences having that much fire on stage could bring. But Danny took over the phone to further reassure Josh that he didn’t blame him, and that for the last time, it wasn’t the fucking fire’s fault, Sam.

Once Sam had done all the apologizing he felt he could physically force out of his mouth (which wasn’t much), they hung up the phone and Danny had yet another water bottle shoved in his face.

“I’m not continuing the story until you drink,” Sam warned, and this wasn’t a hill Danny wanted to die on, so he broke the seal and drank. Once satisfied with the amount, Sam sat cross legged across from Danny and kept talking.

…

No one really wanted to argue with Sam in that moment about where Danny would go, so the medic chewed her lip and gave the okay to transport Danny into the van, still strapped to the stretcher, and then to the hotel with the warning that she’d be coming to check on him every hour, and if he wasn’t awake within six hours, she’d call an ambulance.

Sam had readily agreed and stayed right by Danny’s side the entire time, even scrunching himself between the front seat and the back on the ground so that he could study Danny’s face and make sure he didn’t wake up suddenly.

Staff had allowed them to use a back entrance to get Danny up to their room real hush-hush, which was nice because Sam wasn’t sure how he’d react to someone asking what happened, and he didn’t want to take that chance.

It was up the elevator, to the room, and into bed, which was when Sam had taken the initiative to stock the table with drinks, hike up the A/C, and actually listen to what the medic told him to do when he argued – passive aggressively and on the down-low – against her staying in the room with them until Danny woke up.

Again, he just wanted a little bit of time alone with his boyfriend so that he could process everything that had happened without other people around to pick apart his mannerisms or actions or words or feelings. 

He wanted it to be just him and Danny.

“As soon as he wakes up, call me, make sure he gets some fluids in him, and don’t let him get up and move around a whole lot. That means,” she said, looking away from Sam’s eyes and pausing to think about the best way to phrase it, “no…strenuous activity–” Sam had to bite back a small smile at the implication, but was also quite offended that she seemed to be under the impression that he would jump Danny’s bones the first chance he got whether he was hurt or sick or otherwise not in a ‘jump-your-bones’ state, “--until I can clear him. Capeesh?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sam agreed, standing awkwardly next to the bed, waiting to get in until she left.

Fortunately, she took her leave then, letting the door click shut behind her as Sam finally took the opportunity to lay himself along Danny’s side - not quite touching him in fear of the shared body heat - and zone out to process.

He was jerked out of his own little world a while later by a knock at the door, not realizing he’d taken Danny’s hand in his. A little unwilling to leave Danny’s side, but still knowing it was probably the twins, Sam got up, pushed the handle down, and opened the door. He’d been right – Jake and Josh walked in immediately, taking in Danny still passed out on the bed.

“How’s he been?”

Sam glanced toward the bed as well. “Conked out good. Hasn’t even so much as twitched.”

The twins hummed, but there wasn’t anything else to say except what the medic had told him, and that information was passed along quickly.

“I talked to the stage manager,” Josh said. “He’s making arrangements for a couple of big fans to be brought out at the next venue for him so he’ll have a little more air flow. The only problem they’re working with is how not to catch the smoke and create a new problem.”

Sam blinked. “I’m sorry, the smoke?” The twins glanced at each other like they’d been expecting this (which, in all honesty, they probably were). “We’re not having any more fire, Josh. Not after this.”

“Sam, the tour would lose so much money if we don’t use those things,” Jake reasoned. “The renting company isn’t going to give us a refund for the last, what - five shows?”

But Sam wasn’t having it. “We are not using them. They can do the math and take it out of my fucking paycheck, but I won’t play a single goddamn bass line if I see so much as a wisp of smoke coming from those things.”

Not wanting to get into it, and knowing that Sam was still in a state that wasn’t going to be conducive to collaboration or reason, Josh put his hands up. “How about we wait until Danny wakes up, and we can talk about it as a band. He should be included in this conversation.”

Jake nodded in agreement, but Sam just glared at them. “Fine. We’ll talk later. But if we’re not gonna talk now, then get out of my room.”

He felt a little immature saying that, but he was riled up again, and that was bad vibes when it came to a still passed out Danny. Sam didn’t want any of that negative energy in the room.

The twins rolled their eyes but stepped out, leaving Sam with the low hum of the A/C and Danny’s breathing once he got close enough.

“They’re being selfish,” Sam muttered to Danny, knowing he couldn’t hear him. “But I doubt you’ll be on my side when you wake up, either, you selfless bastard. We’ll have to talk.”

And then, disregarding his previous restraint in regard to skin-to-skin contact, he wrapped Danny in a hug and waited for him to wake up.

…

Danny was incredibly, undeniably, helplessly in love with this man.

Pulling Sam into his lap, Danny kissed him, long and deep, and murmured, “Thank you for taking care of me, Sammy,” against his lips.

A light flush covered Sam’s throat, and he gave Danny a peck back. “Always,” he said, but made no move to take the conversation nor the action further, despite Danny’s hands – having fast switched to roaming Sam’s sides under his shirt – obviously itching to progress their state into one of more undress, but waiting for a go-ahead which Sam did not give.

All of the sudden, Danny’s hands stopped. “Wait. Didn’t you say the doc told you to call her as soon as I woke up?” 

Sam made a face and shrugged, leaning into Danny’s body. “Yeah. But ‘as soon as he wakes up’ is subjective, in my opinion.”

Danny’s snort shook his whole body. “Um, I don’t think she’ll see it that way. Wanna call her before she comes up here herself and sees me awake?”

“Not really,” Sam answered. He didn’t give any further explanation, but Danny picked up on the protective theme throughout the story. Sam didn’t want other people taking care of him - he could do that himself. 

And Danny could bear with that – a few more minutes to themselves before they’d inevitably have to deal with the small shitstorm he’d accidentally created. Plus, with Sam in his lap, and energized now that he had a few hours of sleep under his belt, Danny’s mind quickly turned dirty and he resumed his previous quest of getting Sam’s shirt off, remembering that the doc had said something about this exact scenario when he looked at Sam for permission and was once again avoided.

“Wait,” he muttered again, even though he was the only one actually physically doing anything that required waiting, lips having been drawn in by the proximity of Sam’s neck, “so does that mean we have to have permission to fuck, now?”

Sam laughed at the abrupt change in topic and tune, humoring Danny only for a moment before shutting him down. “Just this time. But yes. And also no.”

“No?” Danny was interested. He figured if they’d already broken one rule, why not break them all? Classic Sammy mentality that Danny could actually get behind for once.

“Not tonight, Danny. We’re keeping things PG. Maybe PG-13.” And then, the record scratch stop. The rejection came as both a surprise and a conundrum for Danny until Sam’s next words. “You’re…fragile.”

The offense that Danny took had nothing to do with being perceived as fragile and everything to do with the concept that he was too fragile for sex.

He sputtered at Sam. “I’m not fragile! Babe, come on,” he whined. He and Sam both knew he would never coerce Sam into doing things he didn’t want to do, but Danny also knew that his hesitation had nothing to do with Sam not wanting sex and everything to do with his fear, evident in the way Sam’s expression bobbled from the burgeoning wisps of desire and back to stubborn concern, which Danny needed to address. He rolled on top of Sam before he could process it, wrapping Sam’s arms around his neck. “Feel me, Sammy. I’m not warm anymore. The hottest person in here is you,” he teasingly flirted, “are you sure I shouldn’t call someone for that?”

Sam rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, but did take the opportunity to gently skate his fingers across Danny’s skin. He was right; there was no trace of the unnatural heat to Danny’s skin that he’d felt at the venue, and Danny had drank two water bottles and a gatorade by now. But still—“I don’t want to be the reason you break again, Daniel,” he maintained. “I don’t.”

Danny shook his head, giving Sam an Eskimo kiss at the same time. “You won’t, babe. Look,” he cajoled, rolling his hips smoothly into Sam’s, “I can show you just how tough I can be.” 

Despite his efforts, Sam just tightened his arms and used the leverage to pull Danny down, his weight on top of Sam something he’d been wanting all night but had been a little afraid to do. “No, Daniel. Because I swear, if you pass out while you’re literally inside me,” he warned in Danny’s ear, “we’ll both be celibate until temperatures drop below 70 degrees.”

The laughter Danny let out vibrated into Sam’s neck, making him shiver. “Then you fuck me. It’s not like it doesn’t work both ways.” Then after a second, but before Sam could respond, “And you couldn’t keep your hands off me that long.”

Sam pushed Danny off with a snort. “Oh, fuck off. I totally could.” But the protest was weak and they were both aware neither of them wanted the other’s hands off of them for any extended period of time. “And passing out when I’m inside of you is fucking worse.”

Danny grinned. “Not even a little bit flattering?”

“Nope,” Sam said, and then looked at his watch. Well, where a watch would be if he was actually wearing one. “Oh, look at the time! I’d better call the doc,” Sam sighed dramatically, and then actually got his phone and called her while Danny scoffed and pouted beside him. “She’ll be here within a few minutes,” Sam said victoriously, then eyed Danny’s half-mast. “You might want to calm down.”

Danny was still muttering in discontent when the medic arrived, doing her thing, checking his vitals, and making sure everything was back to the way it was supposed to be.

“Well,” she said, wiping her thermometer off with an alcohol wipe after retrieving it from underneath Danny’s tongue, “all seems to be normal. I’d say definitely no hospital required, and you are free to play your next show with the promise that you’ll actually drink water this time,” she said sternly, having glared at him when he told her that was the most likely perpetrator of the whole thing.

“Will do,” Danny agreed charmingly. And then, with a mischievous look towards Sam that Sam didn’t often see without prior prompting from no one other than himself, asked, “And that means I’m cleared for everything else, right?” The medic looked confused until Danny politely clarified, “The uh…the strenuous activities?”

“Oh,” she laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Yeah, that too.”

This time, Danny wore the victorious grin and Sam was the one giving unimpressed looks in Danny’s direction until the woman left. “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that much,” Sam sighed as he made the first move, pressing on Danny’s chest until he was laid out on the bed once more. “But I guess - since we have the go ahead and you’re so obviously gagging for it…” Danny finally tugged Sam’s shirt up and Sam helped it the rest of the way off, only to yelp when Danny flicked his nipple in retaliation to his quip. “Fucker!” he hissed.

And Danny laughed. “Not until you get the lube, baby,” he grinned, pulling Sam’s hips so that he could grind against him. However, once he’d finished his joke, he settled down for a moment, rubbing Sam’s hips with his thumbs. “You that we don’t actually have to fuck, right? I don’t want you to have to be worried about me, and I’m always down for a nice cuddle, instead.”

Sam scoffed playfully and looked down to where his body was laid atop of Danny’s. “And waste this opportunity now that we’ve gotten the all clear? Absolutely not. Where’d the desperate boy we’ve been seeing tonight go?” he teased, baring his neck to Danny as his boyfriend took advantage of the green light he’d been given and begun placing light kisses to his throat.

Against Sam’s skin, Danny murmured, “Oh, he’s right here, I promise. But, seriously. If you’re gonna fuck me, go get the lube.”

Sam lifted himself off and went to retrieve a tube out of the stash they had, coming back to a naked Danny on the bed (a sight Sam swore he would never get bored of), but only laid it by the pillows as he straddled Danny’s hips again.The room quieted as Sam took Danny’s mouth with his own, sighing into the kisses and reveling in the feeling of Danny’s tongue against his. He loved Danny’s lips - kissing, talking, sucking him off, singing in the shower, whatever – and loved that he got to do this.

Once he’d gotten his fill and Danny’s mouth was left red and a little slick and swollen, Sam smoothed his hands down Danny’s chest, slowly, gently, reverently. He purposefully stayed away from the erogenous zones he knew oh so well, and Danny eventually took issue with that. 

“Sam,” he huffed after the third pass of Sam’s palms on his thighs, dick twitching in anticipation every time they got close and a drop of disappointment marring his face every time he passed it by, “are you gonna touch me or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

While the idea was attractive to Sam, he laced his fingers through Danny’s, peppering kisses over his face and neck. “Shhh, I will,” he hushed, “Let me take care of you. I told you I would, didn’t I? Can’t I?”

Sam stopped to look Danny in the eye, a softness there that Danny had loved since they were kids, when the only thoughts of romance manifested in stuck out tongues and expressions of disgust, and knew that Sam needed this just as much as he did. Perhaps by letting Sam take care of him, he could do the same for Sam.

He nodded, drawing one of his hands out of Sam’s to cup his cheek, the atmosphere still charged, but more tender, now. “You did. You can. Anything you want.”

A sweet smile graced Sam’s lips at the affirmation, and he slid the rest of his clothes off before he finally took Danny in hand, the stimulation making Danny sigh quietly and relax. While he set a slow pace with that hand, Sam reached for the lube again and expertly flipped the cap open with his thumb, readjusting their positions so that his hips were cradled between Danny’s thighs before he left Danny’s dick to slick up his fingers. 

Some people were uncomfortable with quiet sex, trying to fill the awkward moments with moans and words and music and ambiance, but Sam and Danny were not those people.

They made noise when they felt compelled to do so, but in these beginning moments, when the initial touches were being made and their bodies began to sync up and tune into each other, they were content with the sound of skin on skin and the soft breaths of their lover to tell them where they were.

So, when Sam breached Danny’s body with his fingers, and the only sound that came out of Danny’s mouth was another sigh and an audible swallow, he smiled. He knew he was making his boy feel good. He knew he was taking care of him just as he needed to be.

However, while subtlety had its moments, Sam took infinite satisfaction in the sharp sound on the intake of a breath and Danny’s subsequent, “Sammy!” when he hit a good spot. He targeted that spot, then, first with the one finger he had, and then with the addition of another, and watched as he worked his boyfriend into quite a state of wanton desire. It was love, lust, desperation, and a certain brand of dependence born of a healthy relationship and vulnerability that he heard in the way Danny said his name and moved his hips and looked at him with those dark eyes that held so much love and joy.

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked softly, returning an uncharacteristically serious pet name. “I wanna show you…how– how much I…”

For some reason, he couldn’t get the words out without feeling as though he’d break into a monologue. How much he loved Danny. How badly he’d been scared. How much he wanted to take care of him and smother him with affection and spoil him until nothing bad could ever happen to him again.

“Do it, Sammy, love,” Danny encouraged with a kiss to the palm of Sam’s free hand. “Show me.”

Drawing his fingers out and adding more lube to stoke onto himself, Sam made sure nothing would hurt and finally pushed himself into Danny with a low grunt - tight, hot, wet, and his - his, that was whole and healthy and with him now. “I will,” he whispered, “I’ll show you, I promise.”

And Danny wanted to tell him, you already have, but Sam’s hand was on his dick again and Sam’s mouth was on his throat, and Sam’s heart was beating in time with his own and he remembered that this was something Sam needed as well, as an assurance to himself. 

Sam knew Danny understood. Not only did the man’s empathy make sure of that, but all of Sam’s love, fear, and dependence were reflected back to him in Danny. He began moving, pushing in deep and staying there with shallow thrusts so that he could plaster himself to Danny from head to toe with that connection that bridged the gap between them. The man underneath him whispered into Sam’s ear, sweet nothings alongside affirmations and praises.

“You take care of me so well,” Danny breathed, “you’re so good to me, Sammy. No one else could do it the way you do– you’re everything that I could ever need. The only thing.”

Sam nodded, picking up the pace a little bit to scratch that internal itch growing in both of them, trying to give Danny everything he had, everything he wanted. “Yeah,” he answered back, simple as that, knowing that Danny would pick up every unsaid word. “I know, Daniel.”

In the shared spaces that their mouths occupied, the air became damp and warm between the two of them, exhalations fanning across a new sheen of sweat and microscopic drops of moisture forming on each man’s skin. But still, Danny kept his arms firmly around Sam’s torso and Sam never moved from where he’d wedged both of his arms underneath Danny’s armpits, clutching them together via his back and shoulders – heat, at this point, be damned.

When Sam’s breaths became ragged, and his hips snapped forward just a little sharper, trying to bring them both to the edge, Danny started rolling his hips upward to place himself. “Just a little more,” Danny forced out, the knot in his stomach tightening and tightening until with one last, sloppy stroke from the tip of his cock to his balls, he whined, whimpered, and yipped out his pleasure in completion. Letting his orgasm rush through him, Danny buried his face at Sam’s temple as he bucked into Sam’s hand, coating it and his stomach with strings of come.

Sam, too, released his high moans just a minute later - short, desperate, staccato sounds that matched the jerk of hips into Danny as he let himself go. 

Danny stroked Sam’s back as he came down, breathing hard against Danny’s neck before mouthing at the skin there, ‘I love you’s escaping from his throat and his heart and his lungs and soaking into Danny's consciousness.

“I love you, too,” Danny whispered back, not letting Sam pull out nor away and keeping him all to himself. “I love you so fucking much, and I’m sorry I scared you, today.”

But once again, at his admission to guilt, Sam shook his head. “Not your fault. I’m always gonna be scared. I…you know that I need you, too.”

“Yeah. I know.”

The A/C was still turned up to the max, and Danny shivered - his sweat actually working this time and cooling him down quickly. He murmured to Sam, wanting to know if he wanted to take a shower or just get up early and do it in the morning. Sam gently pulled himself out of Danny’s body with a small gasp, and immediately collapsed by his side, wrapping himself around the man in answer to his question.

Danny wasn’t going anywhere.

“Tomorrow,” Sam yawned. “Let’s just rest now.”

And Danny could deal with that.

~~~

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[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction

[thekirbishow]

Does anyone know of Gomez Addams fics that aren’t poly with him and Morticia?

[ofthecaravel]

If i ask you all a question, will you answer honestly...

When you folks daydream about gvf...like, what are they doing. Are you interacting with them? Do you just watch them interact with each other? What do those folks get up to? Details are appreciated but not necessary

[satans-helper]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part III

Read on Ao3

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings: SMUT [blowjobs; masturbation; swallowing] 18+ only!

Hope you enjoy ;)

---

Resistance snapped like the twigs beneath Danny’s sneakers as he paraded Sam to the backseat of the car. They were pulled over halfway between home and the empty unknown, slightly shielded by thick, black trees with no houses in sight, the tires waiting in a thick layer of dirt and dust. 

Danny had never talked to anyone about this stuff before–maybe that’s another reason why he was even more enamored with Sam. But no, he thought as Sam clutched the collar of his shirt to pull him in, to press their lips together with such intensity that Danny felt even more faint, no that wasn’t it. He didn’t need a therapist or a soundboard. He needed someone who was doing just what Sam was doing–touching him with unfettered desire, kissing him like all of this was real and like all of it was good, moaning softly because he couldn’t control himself. All because Danny was, at the end of the day, a good person. Minus one thing he wished he could change. 

In that moment, Sam didn’t give a fuck what kind of person Danny thought he was–he knew. Sam knew that Danny was strong but could be gentle, like how carefully he eased Sam into the backseat and crawled over him; he knew he could be forceful too, like how that hand on the back of his head grabbed a fistful of his hair, manipulating him to move however Danny wanted him to as they continued kissing. Sam followed along happily, basking in the intense heat that was radiating from above, and fought to get Danny’s jacket off, then hastily began to unbutton his shirt. 

Danny purred against Sam’s mouth as long fingers stroked through his chest hair. The instinct to bite was already there and Sam was, either unconsciously or consciously, encouraging it with his own little nips against Danny’s bottom lip. Then Sam tilted his head away, making Danny’s next kiss land on his cheek, so close to his neck. That perfume hit him like a head-high and Danny felt like he was spinning in the tight, dark space, his one hand tightening on Sam’s skinny waist, squeezing hard. So hard it must have hurt, but Sam arched his back and pawed at Danny for more.

Danny inhaled slowly, eyes shut as he traced the tip of his nose down Sam’s temple to his neck. “You’d really let me do it?” He brought the hand in Sam’s hair to the side of his neck, fingers lightly touching the warm skin, running over the veins. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, arousal swarming him but then, when he felt the faintest impact of Danny’s teeth on his neck, there was a bit of fear, too. But fear, he began to realize, sometimes had a way of feeling a lot like arousal. With the sweet mouth on his neck and the strong hands on his body, it was becoming more and more difficult to discern which was which. He gasped a little when the teeth pressed a bit harder and added, “Just give me a warning before you do it.”

He almost did, but then Danny was able to remind himself that he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that. He found every shred of will and preservation he had and removed his teeth from the equation–he kissed tenderly, lovingly, and brought his hands to the hem of Sam’s t-shirt. Sam wiggled a bit against the seat as Danny lifted it up, bunching it up under his arms, then Sam assisted by maneuvering enough to shrug the denim jacket off. Shirts and jackets were a bunched-up bundle in the space below; the only thing left in the way were the pants, and Sam was trying to get those off Danny, too. But from what Danny could see below him–the length of that lithe torso, such a delicious expanse of smooth, butter skin, the perky little nipples that were tempting peaks not just from the cold but from everything Danny was doing to him. 

Danny palmed himself through his jeans as he leaned back, taking in the twilight-cloaked vision: “I want you to suck my dick,” he told Sam, extending one hand to graze those tempting lips with his fingers. “I wanna feel that pretty mouth on me.” He leaned back further, pressing himself against the inside of the door and the window, and Sam sat up to follow. Too tall to fit on the seat with Danny, he had to crouch down on the floor, his knees pressed against their clothes, and shuffle over to him. 

Sam almost voiced that they should have just gone back to Danny’s place, but that thought was interrupted by a hand replaced on the back of his head, pulling him forward. Danny’s fingers tangled tightly in his hair, blunt nails scratching his scalp, and Sam watched the other open the denim and metal barrier to reveal the boxers that, upon touching, felt slightly damp beneath Sam’s own fingers. Danny sighed when Sam pulled those down and the impressive erection he’d spent many minutes, hours even, thinking about was free; but suddenly Sam felt nervous. The atmosphere was undoubtedly spooky and if Danny really wanted to, or couldn’t help himself, he really could drain Sam to death and leave his body right there on the side of the road or out in the woods. And who would have known who killed him? Sam hadn’t told anyone about Danny. Mistake after mistake, he thought as he took Danny’s cock in his hand, but that wasn’t what was really making him nervous. What was instigating that anxiety was how badly he wanted to please Danny. He wanted to give him the best blowjob of his life. That seemed a little difficult in a cramped car. 

That wasn’t going to stop him from trying, though. Sam loosened his jaw as much as he could in an attempt to suck Danny down all the way; he was unsurprised by that failure, but the loud gag that came from his throat made Danny groan in ecstasy and tighten his hold on Sam’s hair nonetheless. So Sam tried again, gripping the base of Danny’s dick tightly–maybe even a little too tight, he thought, but Danny’s thighs began to twitch and a torrent of low growls and huffs broke through the quiet, increasing in volume when Sam whimpered at his own efforts. 

“Fuck yes,” Danny hissed, tilting his head back, eyes closed. Sam’s mouth felt like pure perfection around him, the plush, full lips little cushions around his shaft while that tongue warmed him and the tight throat got him wetter by the second. His imagination drifted to his teeth back on Sam’s neck–how the breaking of that skin would feel, how that blood would taste. He couldn’t do that, but his body was growing out of control with the refusal of his utmost need; he gripped Sam’s hair hard and started to thrust his hips, fucking into that pretty mouth that was all his. 

Sam’s hand grappled over Danny’s thighs while he tried to relax all his muscles, doing everything possible to keep taking the dense, hard thrusts against his face. What else could he do anyway? He was locked in place with Danny’s hands on his head, so strong and forceful without much obvious effort at all. Sam was making no effort to gag and choke either, those sounds were out of his control but it was vividly apparent how much they turned Danny on, especially when words started to tumble from his lips.

“God–my fucking god, Sam,” Danny said from low in his throat, the words deep and almost hushed. He went back to looking down at him, at the beginning streams of tears from Sam’s eyes beneath those furrowed brows, the hollows of his cheeks. So gorgeous even in the shadows, and Danny was rapidly becoming a quivering, hot mess. “Pretty angel, yeah, your mouth is so sweet–fuck.” When Sam’s right hand moved from Danny’s thigh, Danny grunted and tugged on his hair. “Touch yourself, Sam. Come for me while you suck me off–it’s so fucking good.”

Sam took that opportunity to give himself some much-needed air, gasping a little when he freed Danny’s cock from his mouth. He was hard too beneath his own pants and was just itching to get himself out even before that demand came; once his own dick was free, he wiped the spit away from his mouth and chin with his palm and wrapped that hand around himself. “Fuck,” he muttered, returning his other hand to Danny, stroking him with the slick of saliva and precum, heart pounding from all the physical effort. “I can’t even get down all the way.” 

“You get down enough,” Danny said, stroking his fingers through Sam’s hair gently, his lower body going still. His own heart was thunder and lightning in his chest but he could hold on, back off, for a bit and just let Sam do his thing. It wouldn’t be long anyway–Danny’s entire body was tightening with an impending release that he thought might be strong enough to rock the whole car. 

Sam nodded as he stretched his mouth open once more, squeezing his own dick hard as he tried yet again to push, or really sink, himself to the limit. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, he sank down, breathing through his nose, a ragged breath caught in his lungs, until his nose was pressed against dark, thick pubic hair and Danny was groaning and cursing, those fingers in Sam’s hair becoming fierce again. 

“Oh fuck, Sam, yeah,” Danny let out through gasps, his voice rising. “Stay right there, just hold it–please–” 

Sam did, swallowing around him, trying to keep his tongue flat and still. The hardest part was trying to jerk off at the same time, he realized, but then Danny shoved his leg between the seat and Sam’s body and Sam pulled it against his groin, freeing both hands to clutch at Danny’s hips, then his balls and shaft, while he rocked and humped against him. In any other circumstance, Sam wouldn’t have come like that, but Danny began, in the deep, lusty tones that were driving Sam even more wild, vocalizing his praise and encouragement. As Sam suctioned around him and set a frantic pace against his leg, Danny pulled his head down even more, making him choke, and the filthy little sequence of events had Sam shooting his load all over Danny’s jeans nearly at the same time as he felt Danny blow his load straight down his throat.

By then Sam was desperate to not feel like he was actually choking to death. He pried himself away from Danny’s crotch with a rough, wet cough and wiped at his mouth in embarrassment. Such a mess, he thought, not only with how much of his own saliva Danny’s entire groin was coated in but the cum drying on those jeans. He flopped back against the passenger seat for a moment before Danny hauled him up onto the backseat again, handling Sam like he was merely a doll, and found himself lying flat on top of him.

Danny held his face and kissed Sam slowly, deep, like he wanted to taste himself. Sam let him take the lead there, feeling too spent to do much of anything–his entire body was sore from the odd position he’d been in, his jaw aching from the ongoing, unnatural stretch of it, throat fucked raw enough that his voice sounded raw too when he turned his cheek and spoke: “You good?”

Danny nodded, stroking Sam’s back. The exhaustion, at least temporarily, outweighed the need for anything. He was still a bit lost in the stormy afterglow of sex, eyes half-closed as Sam breathed heavily on top of him, and Danny tried to give some comfort touches to those little shoulder blades, so delicate, Sam’s skin like gossamer. 

“You don’t need to–” Sam paused, swallowing again to try and soothe the ache in his throat. “You don’t need to eat or whatever now?”

“Not right now.” Danny curled one arm around Sam’s shoulders, keeping him there. “Soon though, yeah.” He sniffed Sam’s hair–the urge was still there but diminished for sure. He could make it. Maybe he could really do this. All of this. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I got a little too excited, maybe.”

Sam peeked upwards through strands of hair in his face. “So you’re gonna go out and find someone else?”

Danny chuckled, too fucked out to register Sam’s possessive tone. “Not for a blowjob.”

“I’m serious.” Sam sighed, sitting up so he was straddling Danny’s thighs, hunched over so his head didn’t smack into the roof. “I don’t–okay, I know this sounds really fucked up, like all of this is fucked up, but I don’t want you getting that from anyone else.” With Danny propping himself up on his elbows and just staring in stunned silence, Sam huffed and said, “What? I’m saying you can get your fix from me. I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

Danny was silent for another painful few seconds before he said the best thing he could think of: “It’s not right, Sam.”

Like a petulant child, Sam retorted, “Why not, Danny? It’s not like you’re holding me hostage or something. I’m giving it to you.”

Danny fell back against the seat, rubbing his hands over his face. “Because I like you and I don’t wanna do that to someone I like. I don’t wanna hurt you like that again.” 

“Well, I don’t want anyone else to–” Sam cut himself off, turning to look out the back window into black nothingness. It was way too soon to be saying what he wanted to say.

But Danny wanted to know. “What?” he asked, putting his hands on Sam’s hips. He felt so much for this beautiful, odd person. But one of those feelings was truly a strong desire to protect and cherish, not to maim. 

“Forget it,” Sam said, twisting around so he could grab his shirt. “I sound like a chick. I’m just saying–people who like each other give each other things, right? This is something that I want to give to you.”

Danny couldn’t deny that not only was it an incredibly hard to resist offer, it was also very sweet. Coming down a bit more, he could hear what Sam really wanted to say–Sam didn’t want Danny to have anyone else. That made the offer even more tempting. Danny didn’t want Sam to have anyone else either. He sat up to give Sam room to sit next to him, both of them getting their shirts back on and their pants zipped up. He really wished he could give in but he knew nothing that good came without dire consequence. He’d rather deal with the resentment of Sam being denied in that way than be hated forever because Danny appeased both of them.

“Well,” he began, bringing Sam into a half-hug. “What else could I give you tonight that would make you happy?” 

“To be honest with you, Daniel,” Sam said, leaning into the touch. “I’m actually really thirsty since you fucked my throat dry.”

Danny pressed his fingers against Sam’s neck. He could do this. He was sure of it. “Okay, I can definitely help you out there.”

---

Tagging: @sanguinebats @mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics you can go here or DM me :)

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

also showed my mom the Janny interview and she did a whole double take on Danny 💀💀💀

My mom: “How…?? Is that Danny!?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s Danny and Jake.”

My mom *staring so intensely at Danny*: “Danny is giving… Slash and… Micheal Jackson with this outfit…”

I SCREECHED 💀💀💀

[ageofwagner]

i think i may have a type actually

there’s just something about drummers & guitarists😵‍💫

[the-wayne-manor-library]