| Date: 18 December 2007
Characters: Jack Harkness, Lane Williams Location: outside, random room Link to IJ: thread #14732 |
| Previous |
 Lane slid his hand out from under Jack's ass and palmed the inside of his thigh as he sucked, eyes closed against the sound of Jack's fast breathing. Feeling his way, he slipped the thumb of his free hand to the spot behind his balls and pressed, rubbing for a moment before slipping lower and circling his hole. He wasn't going to press yet, just waiting to see how Jack reacted. Sucking, jacking and rubbing with his thumb, Lane could only moan deep in his chest and go with the sensations. His cock was pressed against the front of the couch, painting the rough material with his precome. What he wanted was to crawl up Jack and shove his cock all over his skin, slide inside him and never come out. |
 Jack's back arched hard, pushing him deeper into Lane's hand and throat, fist tightening in Lane's hair, then shuddering at that press behind his balls. He actually relaxed a little more when Lane's thumb moved lower. Mostly because sensation eased back off, at least enough for him to breath again. "Fuck. Are you afraid," he asked, voice rough and just slightly unsteady. "That I'm going to hurt you or you're going to hurt me? Because neither one's fucking likely unless you keep teasing."
Was he fucked a lot? No. That wasn't because he didn't like it just fine, thanks. More like because it just didn't come up all that often. That he was aroused almost beyond sense was pretty clear in that he was asking questions of a guy who's mouth was busy with his cock. |
| Lane's mouth slid off Jack's cock with an obscene noise and he look up at him with a look edging toward a glare. "Initiating phase four, then." He leaned and snatched at Jack's clothes, feeling around until he found what he was looking for and rose to lean over Jack, pushing at him to recline across the couch. "Any objections?" |
| He bit down on Lane's shoulder, hard, but not hard enough to break skin. "Yeah, I object to being treated like the furniture." He shifted himself into a decent reclining position. "And you can ask before you rifle through my pockets." Then he grinned, brilliantly. |
| Lane rolled his eyes, grinning. "Also noted. I'll worry about politeness when there's more blood going to my brain." He gave a quick, hard lick to one of Jack's nipples before scooting down his body and palming the backs of his thighs. He lifted them up and out, guiding one to rest on the back of the couch before looking up at Jack, eyebrows lifted. "Comfy? Not being manhandled too much?" He lowered himself, eyes still on Jack as he nuzzled at the crease between thigh and balls. |
| Jack hooked his leg over the back of the couch, adjusted his arms and his position just a little so nothing was digging in, and he could feel the stretch in his thighs - he was just too heavily muscled to be all that flexible - but it was a pleasant thing. He made a soft sound, half swallowed in the back of his throat, even before Lane was in position and he could feel breath against all that heated, sensitive, skin. "I think I can live with it," he murmured. |
| "Good" Lane said brightly and his tongue slipped out, teasing at one of Jack's balls before sliding lower and circling his hole. With one hand on Jack's cock just enough to be a distraction, he tongued and kissed at what he knew was sensitive skin there. His free hand worked the small tube of lube open and he slicked up a finger. He knew Jack had to be feeling the stretch of his sprawl, just enough of a hint of exertion to remind him of the rest of his body. Lane was more flexible than most, and relished both sides of the sexual equation in relation to who was doing the most bending. He wasn't quite sure why the logistics of Jack made him want to lay him out and devour him and he didn't care. All that mattered was this - the intimacy of it, the thrill of giving Jack pleasure, and getting a big of his own. He got off on seeing Jack enjoy himself. |
| It was exactly enough to keep him aware of the rest of his body. The pull and stretch and exposure of the position was good for Jack. He might be fairly low inclined toward being overly lazy with sex - but once he was there he gave everything there was and everything he had. Every feeling, every reaction, the heat and slide of Lane's tongue, the way Lane was moving, even the sound of his breathing.
He reached back behind himself, gripped the arm of the sofa with one hand and groaned, back arching, muscles tensing, pulse racing, skin heating - the whole nine yards into this and feeling it. Rocked gently into Lane's hand with the arch, and relased his breath in a shuddering exhale. Started to let go of the apathy and persona and responsibility and remembered just how much he really loved sex. |
| Lane felt Jack's shaky exhale in the pit of his stomach, his already racing pulse speeding faster as he circled a slick finger with his tongue, pressing in against the tight muscle. It gave enough for him to try again with his tongue this time, alternating it with his finger until there was less resistance. Working his fingers in, he stopped to get more lube, tongue still moving against Jack's hole when he added more lube and pressed two fingers in this time, easing back until they were sliding easily. He slid Jack's foreskin over the head of his cock as he worked his fingers deeper. |
| It wasn't just Jack's ass that was giving. With every press into him, slick and solid, tongue or fingers, every stroke of Lane's hand over his cock Jack gave in just a little bit more.
He wasn't particularly inhibited to begin with, but with the build of arousal, the push and thrust and slide of it all, his physical responses became downright graceful. He arched, head back and fingers curled, muscles flexing and shifting, the groan coming from somewhere just a little deeper in his chest. The pull against his foreskin, the sharper slide against the head of his cock and his gasp and the catch in his breath was followed immediately by a solid push back onto Lane's fingers, and clenched briefly, faint tremor running through his entire body. He was absolutely lost inside his skin, awake and alive and for all the need there, for all the ache of arousal and faint burn and uncomfortable stretch of the sprawl and therough fabric of the couch under his back, all the tangled up and beautiful mess of it - he wasn't anticipating, restless or scrambling for more. He was just feeling this. Right now. |
| Lane looked up and watched Jack's body moving, the flex and shift of his muscles, the arch of his back, and it was beautiful. He wanted to hold some of in his hands, watch it twist and unfurl in turn. Sliding his fingers out, he rose up and over Jack, hands following the lines of the muscles in Jack's chest as he positioned himself on one knee and one hand on the arm rest beyond Jack's head. "Phase five, Jack," he whispered against the side of Jack's face and slicked himself and Jack, keeping a tight rein on his composure before the real show began. Usually he had plenty of self-control, but seeing Jack so fluid and lost in sensation was cracking that composure. |
| Jack turned toward the brush of Lane's breath against his face, without opening his eyes. There was something almost innocent and trusting in the gesture, or at least instinctive. Either way, he nuzzled into Lane, found his mouth and kissed him, hot and slick but shallow and brief. "Five's my lucky number," he murmured, and somehow, for all the apparent arousal - tight stomach muscles, stretched and sprawled and spread wide open, hard cock- his voice was soft - low and quiet and the edges were rough, but most of what he sounded was content. |
| Lane smiled and nuzzled Jack's face, free hand guiding his cock to nudge against the tight ring of muscle. With short, retreating pushes, Lane finally felt it give and his hips lengthened the thrusts by inches, slowing on the pull out with more ground he gained. Setting up an unrushed, easy rhythm, he fit his hand around the curve of Jack's jaw and fell into a slow, deep kiss. Rocking against Jack's body, into his body, there was nothing beyond that. This was all there was, for now. He held on the instroke of a deep thrust and circled his hips, lost in the tight grip on his cock and Jack's lush mouth. |
| Jack actually did tense up at the give. Not hard, not dramatically, but something that made his breath fall out of rhythm, his pulse jump and made him nip sharply into the kiss. That response was there and gone in and instant and a soft growl.
From there it was a matter of finding Lane's rhythm, being able to predict the heat and stretch and slide and retreat. Once he had that again he settled down, breath evening out, pulse steadying, and moving with Lane, as much as his admittedly awkward position allowed. Then Lane stopped, pushed inside him, deep and right fucking against his prostate. He stopped breathing, his ass tightened around Lane, and he snarled softly into the kiss. One hand went to the back of Lane's neck. Shuddering, almost shivering, panting again. Reacting hard. |
| Lane moaned as Jack's ass tightened on his cock, Jack's teeth nipping at his mouth. He pulled back and thrust hard, grinding his pelvis into Jack at the apex, moaning low in the back of his throat. He set up a deeper, harder rhythm, aimed to hit Jack's prostate with each thrust. He gripped the arm rest and leveraged his thrusts with one foot on the floor, tongue fucking into Jack's mouth at the same time. His hand left Jack's face and gripped his cock, stripping it with even, long strokes. |
| Jack wrenched out of the kiss, his eyes opened and one hand left it's grip on the couch and around so the heel of it was pressed against Lane's shoulder. There was no strike there, he wasn't hitting, but the movement was fast. His entire body tensed, all the way from his neck to the back of his calves, his breathing rough and ragged, teeth gritted together.
His eyes, in that instant, were more than a little wild. "Move your hand." The hand around his cock, he meant. His voice was tense and raw, and he was just, overloading. Rough was fine. Rough and deep and aching was fantastic. The hand around his cock on top of that was going to make him go past coming and strip him down just a little further than he was prepared to go. |
| Lane grit his teeth and let go of Jack's cock, not understanding, but complying. He didn't let up on Jack's prostate, however, keeping up the rhythm he had going. Leaning against Jack's hand on his shoulder, he pressed their bodes harder together, skin sliding and slipping with sweat. "Too much?" he asked with a tight, thready voice against Jack's ear. "Come on, Jack, make a mess for me. I want to watch you come." |
| He slid his arm the rest of the way around Lane's shoulder, eyes nearly rolling back in his head from force and sensation. "Yeah," he agreed, voice rough and responding to the question, as well as ... well, agreeing. He nipped at Lane in warning, teeth scraping and tongue sliding to taste salt. Then his fingers curled down around Lane's shoulder, nails digging in and shoving back to meet him, hard.
It'd been long enough since he'd come while being fucked that it was that little bit extra intense, wave of sensation and the slide and contraction of muscles under skin, grip around Lane's cock tightening, his breath stopping. Literally, held his breath while orgasm tore through him, jerking into it and shaking with it, wet and slick and just. Gone. |
| Lane felt the warning nip and Jack's fingernails digging in and gave the next thrust a bit more force and felt the first contraction of Jack's orgasm on his cock like a vise. He rode through the next one and let go, his own orgasm roaring up and out through his cock as he cried out and fucked through it. Jack's grip on his shoulders didn't let up, grounding him as he felt hot come slicking their bellies, eyes on Jack's face and shuddering through it. |
| Jack looked very nearly angry his expression was so focused. His first attempts at breathing was aborted by Lane's orgasm. He stopped, gasped and twitched again. Eventually though it eased and he exhaled, his grip on Lane relaxed. He relaxed, sticky and sweaty and breath shallow and irregular. He'd think about moving and talking shortly. For the moment neither one was anything like a priority. |
| Lane sagged as his orgasm ebbed and the twitching eased. Switching to hold himself up with his other arm, he reached back and lifted Jack's leg off the back of the couch and eased it to lie on him instead. Shifting so he didn't crush Jack, he slid toward the back of the sofa and lowered himself down half on Jack's body to catch his breath. It didn't look like Jack was back online yet, and he had no intention of moving much yet. "Shit," he panted, trying to will his lungs to work for and not against him. "I kinda... you okay?" |
| Jack winced with Lane moved his leg, but he moved and worked with Lane to finish the shift, and dropped his arm over Lane's back. He thought about moving further, but decided he'd rather have Lane lying on him than not, and he'd definitely rather not risk falling onto the floor.
"I'm fine. What's wrong?" He wasn't back on-line, yet, but it didn't mean he wasn't going to respond or notice. On the other hand it did mean his voice was faintly garbled. |
| "Just making sure you're alright. I may have been a little... enthusiastic." He lifted the arm flung across Jack's chest and eased it back down slowly. "Couches are good for naps and sitting on, but not somuch for a good healthy fuck." |
| "I'm going to be sore for a week," he answered honestly. Then added, "Thanks," with a quirk of a quick, lazy, grin. |
| "You're welcome," Lane grinned weakly. "All part of my 5 part plan. I think it may be a bit before I'm ambulatory, myself." |
| "You're going to be sore for a week, too. Now that's impressive." He worked his hand up to Lane's hair and stroked it, slowly and affectionately. "Get some rest if you need it. Nothing's going to bother us for a while." |
| Lane wiggled a bit into the cushions. "I think I will, actually." With his lips turned up in a slight smile and Jack's hand in his hair, Lane closed his eyes and drifted for a while. |
| Jack didn't exactly sleep, even doze, but he let himself relax a bit, got his brain pulled back together and enjoyed being shagged into physical exhaustion. |