GLITTER

Title: Lose Yourself
Author: Rubywisp
Pairing: JM/KD (Takes place in Soupverse)
Rating: NC-17

"What the fuck is this shit?"

James' voice was sharp with shock and hot with something that sounded like disapproval but couldn't possibly be, his face blank and set as Kelly opened his eyes and peered at him. The scarred eyebrow shot to James' forehead and stayed there while... Tom? Tim? No, Tyler... scrambled up from the carpet in a flurry of embarrassment and frantically-gathered clothing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kelly could see the kid's hands shaking while he struggled to button up his jeans; he wanted to lean over and reassure him, tell him not to worry about it, James just liked to play the grump. But the emphatic glowering from the other end of the room kept him quiet. Kelly wasn't one for hedging his bets, but his wasn't the only ass currently at stake, and he wouldn't be able to fuck...Tony...again if James killed him. Of course, if he didn't deflect James' considerably fierce attention soon, the kid might give himself a heart attack and save James the trouble. Either way, no pretty-boy fucking in Kelly's future, and that just wouldn't do.

His arm tingled, considered falling asleep; Kelly pulled it out from behind his head and replaced it with the other, rolled his shoulder once, twice against the floor. "Fuck's the problem?" he asked James with his best persuasive don't-you-know-how-cute-I-am? grin. Taylor shot Kelly a grateful look for the distraction and pulled his shirt over his head double-quick, shoving his socks in his pocket and opting to carry his shoes instead of taking the time to put them on. "You said I could make myself at home."

James' forehead lowered and clouded over. It was almost as pretty as Ted's blush, except for the part where James still looked like he wanted to kill both of them.

"Meant you could stay and sleep while your building was fumigated, dumbass; didn't mean you could turn my living room into a halfway house for wayward cocksuckers."

Kelly frowned against the glare, a little surprised. James sounded honestly upset; Kelly had thought James was just fucking with him, trying to scare off the unexpected houseguest. "No," he said slowly, lightly. See, just playing. "You did that when you let me stay here."

Terry snorted a badly-stifled laugh that died a sudden death when James turned a look on him that sent him scurrying head-down for the front door.

Kelly took pity. "Call me in a couple days, Travis. We'll do something."

The kid stopped with one hand on the doorknob, shifted from foot to foot. Slipped an uncertain smile at Kelly past James' impatient back. "It's Trevor. And I'd like that," he said, throwing a startled look at James' short, loud bark of laughter before sliding out of the door James hadn't shut behind him when he arrived home.

Door safely closed behind the newly-escaped Travis, and Kelly grinned again, closing his eyes and slipping his other arm back behind his head. "So how long were you standing there? I admit to being a little distracted, sure, but I never heard a thing. I'm impressed."

"Long enough," James said, laugh fading quickly, clearly not impressed. "Why am I not surprised you didn't even know his name?"

"Because you've known me for longer than five minutes?" Kelly laughed. "Dude. I just wanted to fuck him, not hire him. The fuck I need to know his name for?" He opened his eyes again to find James standing over him, brows heavy, arms folded.

"Man, chill. You saw him; he wasn't upset. I'm just bad with names, that's all."

James didn't answer. Kelly blinked. "What?" Head tilt of supreme irritation, still no answer. Kelly blinked again. "You're not... Dude. You're not seriously pissed just because I got laid, are you?" He sat up, draped his forearms loosely over his knees. "It's your living room, man -- should've jumped on in. Kid's kind of young, but he's got a nice wild streak in him. He wouldn't have minded."

That provoked some motion. "Wouldn't have minded?" James applied the toe of his sneaker to Kelly's hipbone with a little more force than strictly fit the definition of the word 'prodded'. "Wouldn't have minded?" he repeated with an honest-to-goodness kick. Kelly got smart and moved away. "Donovan, what the fuck... you been sniffing hair spray or what? You can't just invite some random kid in here for sex and games and... Jesus."

James broke off with a sigh and sat down on the couch. Kelly watched him settle in, slowly rub one hand over his face. He looked drawn, still tired after three weeks of unemployment and more sleep than he'd probably had in the previous three years.

"You're not sleeping," Kelly said bluntly.

James snorted. "Well, I'll never let anybody convince me you don't have a firm grip on the incredibly fucking obvious." Kelly stuck his tongue out; James flipped him off.

"When the fuck am I supposed to sleep? Plotting how to keep you still long enough to castrate your sorry, irresponsible ass only leaves a guy so much time for other things." Kelly's turn to flip James off. James dropped his hand and pointed. "And stop fucking trying to change the subject."

Kelly rolled his eyes, retrieved his jeans from under the coffee table, and started pulling them on. "You're not gonna castrate me," he said, standing up. "First, cutting off my dick would not only leave me dickless, it'd lose me my sex drive, and even you in a snit aren't that cruel." He avoided the expected glare by paying special attention to carefully zipping up his jeans. "And besides, I really don't think you want to deal with the wrath of the greater L.A. basin's sexually active youth population, do you?"

James remained straight-faced, but Kelly could see the shadow of a grin flickering around the edges of his eyes.

"Second..." He picked up one of his socks and winged it at James' head, waited while James knocked it away easily. "...how fucking stupid do you think I am?" He pointed a warning finger of his own when James opened his mouth. "Rhetorical question, you faithless motherfucker. Answer that, and the next one's a shoe."

"You're the one with no consequence inhibitor," James said dryly, patently unconcerned. "Why am I the one ducking flying objects?"

Kelly stepped over the coffee table and stood between James' knees. "Because you're the one being stupid, not me." He considered and discarded appeasement, going straight for shock value by moving to sit on James' lap, knees straddling his hips.

"Hate to break it to you, hot shot," he said, poking James repeatedly but gently in the chest with one finger. "But there are all kinds of people on this planet who have no fucking idea who you are. Trent-"

"Trevor," James corrected. He knocked Kelly's hand away, but he was almost smiling.

Kelly acknowledged the correction with a nod. "Fine. Trevor. Who didn't have a clue who you were. Who I was, or more importantly, who I look like." He sat back on James' knees and folded his arms, trying not to look too triumphant or smug, since it would probably just get him pitched back through the coffee table, and he didn't appreciate the idea of having to shave his head for stitches. "Trevor was perfect fuck-party material and you scared him off. Dumbass."

Big surprise, James refused to give up easily. "And you discovered his ignorance of all things Whedon how, Einstein? You suddenly develop a talent for subtlety or something?"

"Fucker." Kelly laughed and knocked his knee against James' hip. "We were talking and someone came up wanting an autograph. Wouldn't believe I wasn't Nicky either, the pushy little prick. Anyway, one thing leads to another, and it turns out our boy Trav--Trevor hasn't watched TV since he was eight. Seems his mama got religion and chucked the thing out."

"Do not tell me you fucked some kid who still lives with his mother in my living room. There are sick, sad things I know about you, Donovan, but that--"

"Hey." Kelly couldn't resist poking James again. This time he limited it to verbal jabbing, though: he liked his fingers just fine where they were, thankyouveryfuckingmuch. "You get your jailbait-free five-year chip, and you can feel free to lecture me about my choice in fuckbuddies, 'kay?"

James slumped a little deeper into the couch, folding his arms across his chest and jiggling one knee hard against Kelly's ass. "My house; I'll lecture you about any fucking thing I want."

Kelly made a show of shivering. "Oooh," he said with an exaggerated bat of his eyelashes. "Bossy motherfucker, ain't you?"

"You have no idea," James shot back. Automatically, almost dismissively, but there was a note in the air that the hair on the back of Kelly's neck recognized and stood up to meet most enthusiastically.

"No?" Normally he'd be embarrassed at the anticipatory whine that wriggled its way into his voice and shook its happy little ass at James, but then James ran his tongue across his bottom lip and sucked it in under his teeth, and Kelly forgot to do anything but want.

James shook his head, grin reaching his eyes for the first time, and it was okay that he was laughing at Kelly, if it made him look like that. Relaxed. Besides, Kelly got laughed at a lot when he got too horny to remember his own name; he was used to it. Like he gave a shit, as long as he fell asleep happy.

"You gonna show me or just let me live my life uneducated and ignorant?"

"Depends." James wasn't smiling any more, but the heavy-lidded look slanting Kelly's way was a more than acceptable replacement. "You gonna behave, or am I gonna have to take you across my knee?"

"Is that a trick question?" Kelly stopped dead where he'd been inching his way down from said knees, intent on showing James the hip-rolling goodness inherent in wearing baggy jeans. "That's a trick question, isn't it? I'm damned if I do, not fucked if I don't, right?"

"You know, you'd think after more than a year of listening to shit like that, I'd have a fucking clue what you were trying to say, but I don't," James said with a frown, only slightly slack-jawed with amazement. Or bemusement. It could be hard to tell sometimes.

It took Kelly a minute to stop licking his lips long enough to answer. Maybe a couple of minutes. "I just want to know what the right answer is. Or the wrong answer. Whichever answer it is that'll get me fucked or spanked or fucked and then spanked. Something, everything, any variation of the above."

He was unceremoniously tossed off James' knees, lying sideways and wide-eyed across the couch before he even realized James had moved. "I take it that was the wrong answer?"

James shook his head and snorted, circled the end of the couch and headed for the kitchen. "You smell like unwashed puppy."

Kelly wrinkled his nose and started to sniff before realizing James meant... Trevor, right. Trevor and sex. Sex and Trevor. He took a deep breath and let it out with a grin. Good, good fucking times, oh yeah. "So?" he said, propping himself up on one elbow far enough that he could watch over the back of the couch as James crossed the spacious kitchen to the refrigerator. "You're suddenly, what, some kind of--"

"Go take a shower."

Kelly sat up straight, automatically starting to bristle at the flat, dismissive tone in James' voice before noticing the artificially tight line of James' shoulders as he took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and opened it. Oh. Oh. Full-body shiver. He probably had goose bumps on his toes.

"Right. I'm gone."

Kelly's jeans hit the floor before his feet did. He heard a stifled snort behind him as he fled to the shower; if James had had even five more minutes to recover from his initial irritation, Kelly knew he'd've been able to hear the laughter over the sound of the water all the way from the other room.

He washed quickly but remained under the spray for a long time. New game here, and while he didn't have any qualms about playing it, he couldn't say he was completely convinced James' annoyance wasn't genuine. It made him a little nervous.

Just enough to add that delicious extra bite to the ache in his dick, true, but also enough to make him have to stop and wonder what he should do next.

He contemplated jerking off; granted, he'd fucked the spine out of Trevor not all that long ago, but he could be persuaded to be in the mood for a long, anticipation-soaked round of riding whatever edge James felt like bending him over. Wouldn't take much convincing at all, in fact, he admitted to himself in response to the shiver that rippled through him in spite of the steaming water.

On the other hand, he thought, forcing the hand in question away from his already-hardening dick, there was something to be said for a quick, dirty, nasty fuck that would leave both of them wondering if anybody got the number of the bus that hit them, so to speak. Waver, ponder, think, and he hadn't decided a damn thing by the time the shower door jerked open.

James immediately stepped in close, eyes intent, back stiff. Looked for all the world like he wanted a fight rather than a fuck, and the careful blankness on his face made Kelly's gut twist, his chest hot and tight. He didn't know what he'd signed up for, but hell fucking yeah, this was it right here.

"Wash me up," James said, voice pitched just low enough to reveal exactly nothing. Kelly's startled, blinking, gape must have been the wrong answer, because James' eyebrows drew together and his voice hardened, Kelly's dick rapidly following suit. "Something wrong with your ears?"

Kelly shook his head 'no', all his breath clenched tight in his throat, all his wanting rigid and needy in the dick bobbing against his belly. Maybe it had been the right answer after all.

"What are you waiting for?" James asked, voice and face expressionless, almost like he didn't know Kelly, only if Kelly'd been a stranger James would have been nice and smiling and gregarious, so the distance proved the game or some shit like that. Kelly was ready to fucking explode and he hadn't even been touched yet. Done any touching of his own.

His hands shook -- shook -- as he pulled the washcloth off the bar on the wall, poured soap into it and reached to lay it on James' back.

"Feel free not to take your time about it," James warned with that same highly arousing, if off-kilter, flatness.

Any other time and Kelly would've slowed down, dragged it out, fumbled and fucked around, pushing every button James had without remorse until he made James laugh or wrestle him into submission. But something about the unyielding rigidity in the line of James' neck, the way James wouldn't look at him, the fact that he still wasn't completely sure he wasn't half a heartbeat away from getting the shit kicked out of him for fucking Trevor in James' living room, made him clumsy. Uncoordinated. Talk about your new experiences.

His heart beat an erratic off-beat rhythm in his throat as he washed James head to toe. Toe to head, arm to arm, everything in between, the only break to the frantic pounding in his ears the short, clipped corrections James dropped from time to time. Here, there, are you even thinking about what you're doing? One thing after another until Kelly was going to come or weep with the need to, but 'mercy' didn't exist in James' vocabulary. Thank god.

Kelly finished rinsing out the washcloth, dragged and squeezed it down James' back one last time. He dared greatly, resting his forehead on the shoulder in front of him, willing himself to touch nothing but the cloth in his hand, just in case. "James..."

"Did I ask you a question?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Get out."

Yeah, right. Soon as I have the god damn feeling back in my legs. I'll get right on that. But he moved, because that was the point, the goal of whatever the fuck this was they were doing, he was doing, doing whatever James told him to for however long James told him to do it. Obeying, and he really needed to stop thinking about it so fucking much or it'd be all over before it ever got started. *He'd* be all over - the floor, the bed, his own feet, and as good as that sounded to his already-aching dick, he really wanted to see where this was going.

So he moved, out of the shower and into one of James' dementedly thick bath towels, out of the bathroom and right to the foot of the bed, where he stood trying not to shake, trying to remember how to breathe until James tugged the towel away from him and stepped close enough that Kelly could feel the rise and fall of James' chest against his own.

All the self-possession he almost remembered he owned just barely kept the embarrassing noises from his throat, and he had to close his eyes anyway. He stumbled without taking a step when James brushed fingers so lightly up his bicep it would've made him giggle if he hadn't been so close to begging.

"They say you learn something new every day." James' voice slid, poured, oozed sticky and thick over Kelly until he felt heavy and slow with it. Stupid with lust. Same shit, different day, very different play. "Figure it for bullshit most of the time. But this--" One finger, soft and lingering on the side of his neck. "This is new." Pressure now, circling around to the front of his throat, just hard enough to make Kelly swallow, make his hips twitch. "Makes me want to know what else is in there."

Quick, hard shove; Kelly lay where he landed on the bed, breath knocked into him finally, chest heaving as James kicked his legs apart with one knee and stood between them. "Want to see what you've got, Donovan."

Kelly scrabbled for something to grip, to ground him, found it in the unaccustomed flatness of James' bed. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Kelly scanned the room until he found what he was looking for: James' comforter and blankets lay in a heap in the corner of the room. "Forget to make your bed this morning?" Teasing. Safe, familiar, easy. An extra half a minute in which to catch his breath.

"Did I say you could talk?"

Kelly cocked his head, narrowed his eyes. Doubted his sanity and gave in anyway. Curiosity killed the Kelly, or would, if his luck held. "Don't remember you saying I couldn't." Not in so many words, anyway. He waited; thankfully, not for long.

"Shut up." Not even the tiniest hint of a smile in the detached, slow-blinking stare.

Oh yeah. So much for breathing. Not like he was making much use of the oxygen anyway. He had to be sure, though. "Completely?"

James leaned down and smacked him on the thigh, sharply enough to make his tongue go thick, his hands hot.

"Move up," James said, jerking his chin toward the pillows. Kelly worked himself back against the headboard with elbows and heels and sank into the ridiculous pile of pillows expectantly. "Grab the headboard."

Kelly's knuckles were already slippery with sweat and throbbing from the tightness of his grip by the time James deigned to climb on the bed after him. One knee on either side of his hips, near enough that he could feel body heat but far enough away for there to be a serious dearth of skin-on-skin contact, and James leaned in until their faces were close enough that Kelly could probably count James' eyelashes. If he tried. If he could hold a thought long enough to remember his numbers.

Lowering his head, James rubbed the top of it against the side of Kelly's neck. "You don't move." Slow, rough lick along Kelly's jaw; quick, sharp bite to the soft spot under his ear; Kelly couldn't suppress the involuntary jerk. "Uh-uh," James said, so quiet Kelly almost had to stop breathing to hear it. He bit again, leaving his teeth on Kelly's skin, in Kelly's skin, until Kelly took a deep breath and mostly stopped shaking. "Not unless I tell you to."

Kelly wanted to nod, but suspected that might count as moving, so he breathed again instead. In, hold, out. Long and deep and nothing resembling steady, but that seemed to please James, if the kiss he dropped on the newly-tender spot on Kelly's neck was any indication. Kelly closed his eyes and breathed some more.

He felt James move away, sit up. Waited with what felt like every inch of his body reaching for contact and didn't open his eyes until he felt the quick, steady tapping on his chest. Not the kind of contact he'd been hoping for, but he'd take it. For now.

"Next rule." The smile on James face was not kind, but it went straight to Kelly's dick anyway. Something of it must have shown on his face, because the corner of James' mouth curled up just that much more as the finger on his chest traced his breastbone, stopping just below his rib cage. "Probably the hardest one for you, I'm sure."

He paused, threw Kelly a new look; the word 'predatory' sprang to mind. Kelly tensed, fairly sure he knew what was coming, just as sure he had no idea in hell if he wanted to hear it or not. His dick had no such qualms, and it was a good thing James didn't seem inclined to touch him below the waist any time soon, or else this would all be finished before it really began. Another quick thump to Kelly's chest, harder this time. "No touching." James' fingers swirled and brushed and tugged the hair on Kelly's chest as he spoke, clearly free to make or break their own rules.

Un-fucking-fair.

"The fuck?" It wasn't like he didn't know James could be a sadistic bastard going into this, and not allowing Kelly to touch was such a truly head-fucking stroke of genius he couldn't help but admire it. But still. He felt obligated to make at least a token protest. "I don't remember a lot of my high school government class, but I'm pretty sure I have some sort of Constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment." Kelly chuckled in spite of the screaming need flooding his system and wreaking havoc with his nerves.

"One more thing." James went from upright to just-not-touching Kelly's body with a suddenness that made his head spin and his breath come shallow. "You? Don't get to talk."

"You have got to--"

"See, that's the thing. I really don't."

Incredulous didn't begin to cover it. "What?"

"Have to do a damn thing." A grin so wide it almost looked innocent spread across James' face. Kelly knew better than to believe the sorry, sadistic game-playing son of a bitch. "Including fuck you."

"Oh, you motherfuckin--"

James tsked. He really did, not once but three times. Some day, Kelly was going to have a good, gut-busting laugh over it. Later. Much later, when the need to be fucked wasn't more urgent than...everything else. James tsked and covered Kelly's mouth with one hand and didn't even blink when Kelly started biting his palm.

"Now," he continued, as calmly as though Kelly wasn't a mess of gasping indignation under him. Gasping indignation, now with added licking. "Where was I?" He almost managed light, but the fact that his voice was two steps lower than carefully casual allowed gave him away. Gave Kelly shivers, too. "Oh, yeah. I don't have to do this--" and Kelly figured he had to have a bruise on his neck from James' earlier bite, because the shit-eating motherfucker ducked in quick as Kelly's indrawn breath and did it again in the exact same spot. "--or this--" The hand disappeared from Kelly's mouth, announced its reappearance with an intense, stinging twist of his right nipple. He was still swallowing the moan when James settled their bodies together, unerringly slipping his cock into the groove of Kelly's hip and rubbing hard. The almost-too-much grind of his hipbone against Kelly's dick sent bright, sparking cries of more skidding up his spine. "Or this."

Kelly managed to keep his grip on the bed but little else, back arching, head twisting, mouth working. "Christ, James, please--"

"That's a new one." James paused, dark amusement flooding his voice, sending shockwaves of heat crashing over Kelly's skin. "Begging? From you? Who'd've thought?" Kelly turned to answer, in spite of knowing that he wasn't supposed to. James shushed him, head bent, his breath a whispered kiss against the corner of Kelly's mouth. "Be quiet, Kel," he added quietly. Softly, kindly. Kind cruelty, cruel denial, the best game ever. "C'mon. Be a good boy for me."

Oh, holy fuck. Kink buttons pushed Kelly didn't even know he had; James' smile changed, smoothed out, sexed up. Like he could hear the ground shift under Kelly's back, like it was his big cue. "Unless you feel like continuing the begging." The smile widened, deepened. "Then you can make as much noise as you want."

James ground again against Kelly's dick, and it was fucking brilliant, chess a lá Kasparov, some kind of master class that had every nerve ending in Kelly's body sitting up and taking notice. Sitting up and begging, even, and the words 'mindless supplication' suddenly sounded like poetry. Erotic poetry.

Seriously intense short erotic poetry, a living pornographic haiku of denial: James rolled his hips once more and then stopped. Sat back on his heels and regarded Kelly from under heavy lids with a smirk that widened into full-fledged smug at the whine that broke from Kelly's throat when James slowly dragged one palm down Kelly's stomach, carefully avoiding anything that even remotely resembled a hot spot.

Flash of irritation then remembering: game, game, game, still the game, still playing, okay. Supposed to be quiet, supposed to beg, could he beg now or would that be too easy and make James stop? He didn't know, didn't know how to know, but he'd never been that easy, didn't know how to be, and Kelly took a flying, oxygen-free leap and guessed, stayed quiet. Waited.

James rewarded Kelly by wrapping one warm, gentle hand around his dick. Too gentle, too softly, just the wrong side of right. Just enough pressure to make Kelly thump his head repeatedly against the pillows in frustration. But he kept his mouth shut. Like he was supposed to. Following this trail to the end, that was him.

"Such a good boy," James said, voice gravel along the bottom of a boat too far in the shallows. "So quiet, so good."

Later, Kelly might remember to be embarrassed at the way two short sentences could suck all the air right out of his lungs, but all he could do at the time was readjust his increasingly slippery grip on the headboard and try to remember how to breathe.

James smiled, the cat that ate the canary and her whole god damn family. "I think I like you like this, Kel." The hand on Kelly's dick moved once, twice, squeezed lightly, stopped. Cocked head, deliberately drawn-out consideration, intense stare, and James had compassion after all, after a fashion. A thumb rubbed slowly along the underside of the head of his dick, James' other hand on his hip keeping him flat, denying him the ability to roll up into the touch. "Oh, yeah. A whole fucking lot, just like this."

Kelly rolled his head against the pillow instead, eyes screwed shut, the flickers of pain in his clenched hands possibly the only thing keeping him from screaming, sweat pouring down the sides of his face like tears. Die, he was going to fucking die from frustration and want, he was going to die and he was going to fucking well take somebody with him if James didn't get his ass in gear and do something. Preferably five fucking -- emphasis most definitely on the 'fucking' -- minutes ago.

"Hey. Kel. Kelly. Donovan." James' voice finally penetrated Kelly's internal threats, the hand on his dick squeezing and pulling firmly enough that relief punched into him like a blast of oxygen. "Look at me." Kelly's eyes flew open as he breathed in his reprieve. "Yeah, like that." James applied even more pressure when Kelly exhaled and met his gaze deliberately, obediently. He shivered and couldn't hide it; James smiled again. "Very good."

Kelly searched for steadiness via his breathing. In and out, slowly, barely blinking, and James nodded just as slowly; one corner of his mouth turned up, in time with the pace of his hand on Kelly's dick. Too much denial to take with any degree of equanimity, and his eyes began to flutter shut again, popping open when the touch between his legs disappeared entirely.

"You with me?" James asked, and Kelly nodded and didn't even flinch at the noise that broke from his throat when James took him in hand again. "Good boy."

A sweltering glance accompanied the provocative words; Kelly felt the control he didn't have crack like thin glass under the heavy smugness of the look on James' face and the blissful weight of his hand on Kelly's cock. Need splintered out from his spine, spiderweb-thin and sharp and shredding him, but he kept his eyes locked on James, determined not to look away even if it killed him, because looking away would surely make James stop again and that would kill him.

"Jesus Christ, James." Kelly begged unashamedly, hot-cold sparks dancing the length of his quivering body. The intensity in James' eyes in response to his desperate need hit him solidly in the solar plexus, and he scrabbled for enough air to speak. "Please. Please, please, fucking please." Blatant self-satisfaction but no increase in pressure or speed, and 'desperate' suddenly didn't so much as even begin to cover the way Kelly felt. Kelly tightened his grip on the headboard until he imagined he could hear the joints cracking. "Fucking hell. Fucking... motherfucking fucking--"

James...chuckled, and while it was low and throaty and as tight as Kelly's balls were, the end of Kelly's rope had been reached, and he exploded. "God damn it, Marsters, if you don't fucking--"

Quicker than the space between one indrawn breath and the next, James dropped flat to Kelly's chest, shutting him up by the simple expedient of knocking the air right out of him. "If you're not begging, you don't get to talk," James said when he finished coughing but before he gulped enough oxygen to render him capable of speech once more. "That was the deal. Remember?" His voice was dangerously quiet, but the familiar sardonic, challenging lift of his eyebrow reminded Kelly yet again of the game they were playing.

Right. Game. Right. Good game, wanted game, killing me game, Jesus. All right, shit. Shut up and fucking focus, already! Like he had any kind of ability to concentrate, with a dick hard enough to make a grown man cry, but Kelly gave it his best shot, dragging in lungfuls of air and tightening his grip on the headboard even further, counting on the sharpness in his wrists to help clear his head. He opened his mouth to agree; James' eyes narrowed, and Kelly remembered -- gotta stop forgetting before I forget myself right out of a really good fucking -- just in time, closing his mouth with an audible click and nodding instead.

James ran his thumb along the bottom edge of Kelly's lower lip. "You play the good boy so well, Kelly," he said almost calmly, stroking the corner of Kelly's mouth firmly, only the most minor of vocal tremors a clue that Kelly might not be the only one having a hard time keeping control of himself. "I had no idea."

Neither did I, Kelly wanted to say, saving himself from the consequences of speaking without permission -- and son of a bitch, wasn't that a thought that went straight to his dick and his gut and made every nerve ending in his body tingle -- by turning his head and reaching for James' thumb with his mouth. James pulled his hand away just as Kelly's tongue came out for a taste. "You know, I'm a big believer in natural consequences," he said with deceptive ease, moving up Kelly's body until he sat astride Kelly's chest, one knee on either side of Kelly's head.

Kelly frowned a question, tilting his head back to better see James' face, and an unsurprisingly hard dick bumped ever-so-slightly against the bottom of his chin.

"You're good, I'm good to you," James explained, stroking the side of Kelly's face with a proprietary air but keeping his fingers carefully away from Kelly's mouth. "If you're not?" Weighted pause. "Well..." Another nudge to his jaw, this one purposeful. "I think you should make it up to me."

Kelly almost asked, but one more prod of James' dick, this one a skidding, glancing brush against his cheek, clued him in. Oh, fuck yeah, he could do that. Wayward cocksucker, that's me, he thought happily, turning his head and opening his mouth enthusiastically, thrilled to be able to touch at last, even if only this much.

James moaned as Kelly sucked him in, and it was enough to make him forget himself: he reached to pull James deeper, arms and wrists aching as much as they were grateful for the change of position. Once again, James remembered for both of them, pushing himself up to kneeling and batting Kelly's hands away before his own hands closed around the top of the headboard and he settled himself in to fuck Kelly's face in earnest.

"That's it, Kel. Just fucking... fucking hell, yeah, open your mouth, just a little... oh, fuck fuck fuck fucking hell yes..."

James' voice rasped him raw in all the right places, punctuated by moans that wrapped themselves around Kelly's dick and tugged at his balls before fading into the background, no match for the intensity of everything else Kelly's brain had to process: the noises he himself made every time James slid deeper into his throat, the taste and weight of James thick on his tongue, the occasional flutter of James' fingers on his face, the touch heavier along the flexing muscles of his jaw. He couldn't talk, couldn't touch, and the maximum-penetration-producing arch of his back was creating a healthy-sized twinge in his neck and between his shoulder blades. Sensation overload: actually pretty damn close to the ultimate definition of bliss, the way Kelly saw it. Sore throat, aching balls and all.

Long, leisurely pull out of his mouth, and Kelly moaned the moan of the unfairly bereft even as part of him marveled at James' ability to maintain so much as a scrap of self-control and another part of him noted with no small amount of his own satisfaction the white-knuckled grip that revealed just how close to the edge James really was.

When James spoke, his voice was thick and rough. "Fucking made for this, weren't you?" He tilted his hips to an angle better suited for dragging his cock across Kelly's still-open mouth in a slow, teasing slide. "So fuckin' pretty, all worn out and worn down like this." Lust clogged Kelly's throat, winched his chest to delicious, unbearable tightness. He had to close his eyes, consequences be damned; the knots in his gut simultaneously twisted tighter and unraveled further as James extended the slide up one cheek, down and over and across the other, dick slipping easily in the mix of sweat and pre-come now all over Kelly's face before James brought it all to a halt with a muttered, "Fuck this shit."

Kelly opened his eyes again just in time to see James crawling backward down the bed. "What the hell--"

"We're done with the fucking games," James informed him tersely, punctuating his words with a slap to Kelly's hip that made Kelly's dick twitch. "Roll over," he ordered, the words barely out of his mouth before Kelly was face-down on the bed, and he grinned into his pile of pillows at James' laughter, amusement quickly replaced by another almost-intolerable surge of want when James smacked him again, this time harder and on his ass.

Kelly's hips moved involuntarily and he ground into the mattress with great relief, only to find himself yanked up and back to his hands and knees, James bent over him, arm strong and unyielding around Kelly's waist. "No fucking way, Donovan," James murmured into his ear, his breath hot and wet, raising what felt like acres of goosebumps across Kelly's neck and down his arms. "I've put too much fucking work into this to miss the big finish."

"Would you ju--" ...fuck me already? Kelly caught himself, stopped, dropped his head. Made himself sink into where he knew James wanted him in spite of calling the end of playtime. Where he wanted to be, still curious about riding to the end of the rails, seeing where this particular path led. "Please," he choked out, barely louder than his breathing. Had to stop and clear his throat before giving it another try. "For the love of Christ, please just... please fucking... oh, fuck, yes, yes yes fuck fucking yes," he finished, his clumsy, studied begging disintegrating into the real thing as James slipped what felt like two thickly-slicked fingers into him at once.

Strangled sound from James at his pleading, groan or cut-off laughter he couldn't tell and didn't care, couldn't, not about anything except being able to support his weight enough that he could push himself back onto the fingers fucking him with a perfect mixture of care and carelessness. James worked a third finger into him, brushed the bullseye just as Kelly opened his mouth to protest that he liked it rough, liked it fast, and could they just fucking get on with it already, because a little next-day soreness never did anything except make him want to fuck all over again. Kelly's arms refused to hold him as the shock tore through him and he collapsed inelegantly onto the bed; this time, there was no mistaking James' chuckle.

The fingers in him disappeared -- wonderful fingers, blessed fingers, fucking come back you fucking abandoning bastards -- the hand on his lower back maneuvered him more precisely into position, and James slid smoothly into him, all in less time than it took Kelly to resettle his weight with his head resting on his folded, traitorous arms.
Twin groans of immense satisfaction, a few seconds of thrumming silence while James ignored Kelly's resumed pleas and waited for Kelly's body to adjust and himself to regain control. Kelly struggled to match his own uneven, shallow breathing to James' painfully slow inhalations and was teetering on the edge of success when James' grip tightened, pulled him back hard enough to knock the breath right out of him all over again.

James fucked steadily, with deep, even strokes, every few thrusts hitting Kelly exactly right and sending his nerves buzzing. A few more, and James seemed to become as incapable of staying quiet as Kelly had already proven himself to be: groans and broken words, fragments of approbation and entreaty blended together, picking up speed and fervency as the intensity of their fucking grew. Kelly begged freely, endlessly ...please, please, fucking please, fuck yes, like that, fucking motherfucking god damn yes, yes, harder harder harder fucking god... and James fucked equally relentlessly until Kelly didn't think, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except revel in being well-fucked and happy, so fucking happy, even fucking happier than that when James reached around and grabbed his dick, bringing him off explosively and finally, finally, finally with a few hard pulls, and then he was the happiest yet, satisfied at last, gasping weakly into the pillows while James finished, fiercely fucking the last remnants of conscious thought out of both of them.

Out of him, anyway, Kelly realized dimly as something thick and soft was settled over his shoulders and one cooling, damp hand combed his sweat-lank hair away from his face to make way for the soft brush of a kiss against his temple.

"Tired?" he asked, the one word the best he could manage as his brain shut down.

Significant pause; Kelly started to think he'd drifted off and was only dreaming still being awake by the time James answered.

"Surprisingly, no," came the soft answer, and if Kelly had any voluntary muscle control left at all, he would've smiled.

-End