Less than 10 feet back from the living room window; of course that’s where Nate wanted it. The sun was low, probably glinting off the plate glass so no one could see Nate using his mouth… but there were no guarantees. Spit coated Brad’s chin and he palmed himself through his jeans when his nose was shoved into Nate’s hair; Nate’s fingers pushed against Brad’s skull, fucking his cock into Brad’s wet mouth where anyone could see if they just looked. This is what you get when you start up something in the middle of a war zone, getting off on the possibility of getting caught; the adrenaline rush makes every orgasm sweeter, holding your breath so you don’t raise the alarm with your groans makes every high even higher. Brad squeezed his dick, feeling it pulse in his pants as he quietly came, and he tasted Nate’s come as it silently coated his lips.
“Sergeant Colbert, I believe I gave you a direct order,” Nate said. His voice was equal parts hard and soft, and all that more terrifying. “On your knees.”
Brad narrowed his eyes at Nate but sank slowly to the ground; knees pressing into the hard, rough dirt. Brad made quick work of Ray’s trousers under the watchful eye of his Lieutenant and sucked Ray’s cock tentatively into his mouth. Nate planted a knee between Brad’s shoulder blades and pressed forward, making the hard press of cock into Brad’s throat a little bit more uncomfortable for his favorite team leader.
Ray leaned forward and captured Nate’s mouth with his, he was sure that Brad hadn’t seen things going this way when he’d invited Ray to have some fun with him and the LT.
Tell me your design, he thought to himself as Hannibal loomed over him, a small smile on his lips and his hand wrapped around Will’s cock. Tell me what you are, who you are. Why can’t I see inside of you?
“Do you like this, Will?” Hannibal whispered in his voice, rich as honey, and nuzzled Will’s neck as he continued to stroke him, his tongue laving over the soft, sensitive skin there. He couldn’t concentrate, not like this, and it was strange because despite the frustration, he didn’t want to get away; he wanted to stay here, under Hannibal’s spell with his deft hands and mouth pleasuring him and making him forget all of the painful things he had to hold inside of him. He turned his head, and the pendulum suddenly swung in his mind, his shed clothes disappearing from the floor, Hannibal moving backward to his desk and smiling blithely at the man—no, it was a woman—in the chair before him. It was him, he realized before the vision disintegrated, Hannibal’s mouth hot and warm around his cock, making him forget again.
AU
Doc had his sketchpad open to a blank page, but he lazily traced the end of his pen across the lines of muscle on Patterson’s chest, slipping it through one of the nipple rings and giving a slow pull. He was supposed to be drawing up a pair of designs for some mutual friends that had enough matching couples’ ink to choke a goddamn My Little Pony, but he had gotten focused on Bryan’s skin instead. Green and fading purple bruises circled his ribcage from the last boxing match he’d entered (decimating everyone in his age class, obviously); geometric black tattoos swept down each shoulder and along his biceps; and a trail of dark hair led south to Patterson’s half-hard dick. Patterson’s mug made a quiet clank as he set it on the bedside table when Doc took him into his mouth; Doc figured he might as well get something useful done while he brainstormed. They had all afternoon to make Doc’s jaw ache, their friends would understand if the tattoo art came a few days late…
A/N: Under a cut for dubcon, possible roofies (True Blood-style roofies)
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Walt came in to the garage after mowing the grass tanned, shirtless, and in some shorts left over from his sophomore year on the basketball team… the last time he’d been anywhere near being the tall one in his class.
He pulled off his baseball cap and looked up at Brad with a cocky little smile plastered across his face. “Finished the chores, Daddy. Can I get my allowance now? I’ve been really good today.”
Brad pulled Walt close, laying a kiss on Walt’s pink mouth and then pressing him down to his knees before freeing his dick from his jeans and rubbing the head across his boy’s eager-to-please mouth.
Walt groaned as Brad slipped inside, pushing into the fleshy warmth of his cheek as Walt’s blue eyes gazed up at him twinkling.
Walt pulled off with a slurp. “Then again,” he said, licking a stripe up the underside of Brad’s cock. “Maybe I need you to teach me a lesson about how to be better,” but Brad didn’t know how this could possible get more perfect.
Sam stopped mid-lick and looked up at Gabe with his mouth in a flat line. Being called “pretty” this many times was harshing his ability to give this blowjob because he couldn’t tell if it was the Trickster rearing his head; but Gabe’s face was soft, and his fingers were gentle as they stroked through Sam’s hair, urging Sam onward with murmured praise. Sam blushed at the attention, not really believing the affection in Gabe’s voice; he was just doing what he could, trying his best like he always did.
Gabriel seemed to read Sam’s mind, curling his hand around Sam’s chin and turning his face upward again before he whispered, “You don’t know half of what I feel for you.”
It was easier when Gabe just fucked him hard and feral; Sam didn’t have to think about his significant others’ track record with early ends…
He clung to Q, scarred fingers clawing at the boy’s lower back like he’d slip away and drown beneath the weight of it all. He just needed…
“Shhh, I’ll take care of you,” Q murmured, cupping his hands behind James’ ears and turning his face upward with a press of his thumbs to James’ jawline; the calmness behind his soft eyes trickled down upon him like a spring rain.
James shivered and then went almost limp as Q ran the head of his cock across James’ lips; the taste of precome meeting his tongue like a wash of relief, comfort in a mad world, someone else to make the decisions so James could just float.
“That’s it,” Q said in that musical way that made James feel like young again, like his body wasn’t broken and sore, almost like there was nothing wrong in the world but a cloud passing in front of the sun. “So good. Now take it in your mouth and relax. I’ll do the work this time.”
He was still breathing heavily, muscles weak and nerves buzzing from the orgasm that had flashed through him like a literal slice of heaven. Heaven incarnate was how he got this way, and it was who was looking down at him with a huge smile of satisfaction.
“I like making you feel this way,” Cas whispered, punctuating every word with a brush of his lips to Dean’s skin, picking out a path through his freckles; his cheekbone, along the line of his clavicle, his hip. “It makes me…” Cas paused to lift Dean’s knee and kiss the inside. “…happy.”
Dean threw his arm across his eyes, hiding the attempt at an eyeroll that was more out of habit than a true reflection of how he felt about Cas; but those full lips pressed to the bend of his thigh and groin, his tongue tracing the taste of them that had spilled across Dean’s skin, and Dean pressed his arm harder harder against his eyes, seeing spots of bright, white light as Cas’ mouth gently took him.
