In which I remember the time I was planning a ridiculously porny male/male series of short stories where one of them, once upon a time, had been a fic. This is just a snippet. Should I continue this?
Warnings: … if you couldn’t tell from the title… um… smut. Lots of smut. Lots of male on male smut, so if you’re not into that please skip this post and enjoy my normal rebloggings of Persona and things.
Extra Notes: This isn’t what I was working on for Nanowrimo, that’s a completely different story. So I’m suddenly doing like, three stories at once (since my partner and I have an original series we’re doing together too). It’s not too tricky to balance all of them at once, mostly because this story here is the, “Suddenly the muses are horny, time to write more of this story,” and the other story, “Double H,” is the, “I feel like being angsty let’s write some of that,” and my partner is writing the original story and I only have to edit it and add little details to things ^^
… o.k. it is tricky I’m just crazy.
***
Riley doesn’t mean to stare.
He knows that staring is rude, particularly when someone is having sex. There’s a word for that but he can’t seem to remember what it is because he’s too busy staring at his new next door neighbor as he hooks two long fingers into the waistband of his lover’s boxers.
Voyeur… something?
It’s the neighbor’s fault, really, for leaving his shades open. The bedroom room itself is mostly empty, walls bare except for the lone dresser that’s pushed against one of them. There’s a bed in the middle of the room but there’s no sheets or comforters on it, pillows spilling out of one of the open boxes that surround the room. The man should be unpacking, Riley notes, but instead he’s contented himself with sinking to his knees in front of his lover. The small young man in front of him trembles, the fabric of his boxers slowly being pushed down. It caresses his thighs, eases past his kneecaps as the next door neighbor makes some sort of noise akin to a wild, hungry animal. His lover is completely naked now except for a small necklace around his neck, a small, empty bottle dangling in the center of it. The young man has his eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed with a few loose strands of black hair clinging to the sweat that’s building along his forehead.
There’s a feeling building up in the pit of Riley’s stomach, a delicious burning that makes his jeans feel a bit too tight. His hand rests quietly against his leg, fingers itching to move in between – no, no he’s not going to do that because it isn’t like that at all. He’s just fascinated because the man next door – whose name he doesn’t even know – still hasn’t bothered to close the goddamn shades. His lover’s penis is hard and begging for some affection as the man rubs the stubble of his cheek along the inside of the young man’s thigh. Small hairs sliding against smooth skin. Whimper, whimper, says the lover, legs shaking as he struggles to stay on his feet.
The man runs his hands along his lover’s backside, gives the round flesh a good, hearty squeeze, his tongue swirling around the tip of his shaft. He chuckles at the young man’s reaction, whimper whimper moan. The young man manages to frown down at him, clenching his fists as he lets out a soft whine of asshole. The newly appointed title of asshole seems to turn the man on more, hands caressing his partner’s firm ass before one pulls back and – SMACK. His lover jumps, dark eyes snapping open, causing the man kneeling in front of him to laugh and do it again.
Voyeurism. Riley remembers the word now.
It’s not like he wants to watch, not at all. All he had wanted to do when he entered his bedroom earlier was change out of his work clothes and put on something more comfortable. A pair of small shorts, a slightly faded tank top, the perfect attire for lounging on the couch with a carton of ice cream and the newest episode of his favorite bad reality show. Now he stands, transfixed, in front of his window, his show playing downstairs in the living room without him. Maybe he’ll catch the rerun tomorrow, watch the head chef yell over undercooked lamb and rubbery scallops.
At the moment he’s more focused on his neighbor as he takes the young man into his mouth, lips and tongue sucking on him, hands still firmly planted on his ass. His lover arches his back, moan moan moan, but before he can really get into it the man pulls back. There’s tears stinging his lover’s eyes now and he repeats the title he had given earlier asshole and the man laughs, yeah, he’s definitely into the name calling. He stands up, a full foot taller than the other man, and leans down to plant a deep kiss onto his lover’s lips. It’s all tongues and saliva, a hungry sort of moment that makes the burning in Riley’s loins that much hotter.
He watches as his neighbor turns his lover so that he’s leaning over the bed, hands pressed against the mattress and ass perfectly positioned, ready to be taken. Riley’s neighbor gives the young man’s ass another hearty slap, the sound echoing around the empty room. There’s an impatient hiss asshole followed by that laugh again, the neighbor undoing his own pants and letting them fall to the ground, belt clattering against the hardwood. Just get on with it and Riley feels so delirious from what he’s watching that he can’t tell if it’s him who says it or the lover who’s about to be fucked.
It doesn’t matter who’s said it, all that matters is that the neighbor listens to the request. Large hands grab onto the young man’s hips, the other man taking a moment to rub against his backside, erecting as many whimpers as he can. His lover sinks his nails into the cold mattress, panting and shaking Rhain please! and Come on! and Goddamnit! The neighbor finally gives in and pushes himself inside of his lover, the man crying out his name again Rhain! followed by a few praises to our lord and savior god, oh god!
Well. At least Riley knows the man’s name now. Welcome to the neighborhood, Rhain.
