I'm flashed by the overwhelming amount of reviews for "Sick Little Bastard"! Let's see if we can top that with this little ficcage.
Pairing: Jon/Randy - Rambrose
Warning: Slash, Smut, Language
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a vivid imagination :D
Title: I didn't bet you for a...
The night sure as hell hadn't gone as planned. The others had left them alone at the club quite early, hours ago, but neither he nor Jon had wanted to call it a night already. Quite surprisingly, they'd gotten along, better than he'd have thought. They'd talked for ages, about sports, about music, about the world, about their lives. And before they had realized it, the barkeeper was calling last shot. When they'd left, the sun had already risen, standing low on the horizon, turning the chilly morning-air into a beautiful spring morning. They'd walked the way back to the hotel, talking some more, stopping for coffee and bagels, but when they'd stepped into the elevator up to their floor, they'd both fallen silent. Why Jon didn't say anything, he didn't know, but he had his reason.
There was that connection between them he hadn't ever experienced before. Some sort of spark. A little something. More. And in all honesty, he didn't want it to end already. He'd probably never get such a chance again, not under the circumstances, under the prying eyes of their co-workers, under the stressful and hectic routine of their jobs. This was probably his one and only chance for… he didn't even know for what, but he knew he'd take it.
Jon was strolling along the corridor next to him, hands stuffed into the pockets of those low-cut, ass-hugging jeans, leather-jacket open, staring at the floor. He looked somewhat lost, somewhat deep in thought, though he could swear those eyes were dancing around. Watching him furtively, as if he was trying not to be seen staring. He laughed at the thought, catching Jon's attention with it, but the other man barely looked at him quizzically instead of asking before returning to staring silently at his feet. He didn't know if it was just his imagination but Jon looked… nervous. Snaking his tongue out to wet his lips, rolling his shoulders back and forth, fidgeting with his pockets, gnawing at his lips. He looked like he wanted to say something but was too afraid of his reaction. Then again, he probably looked exactly the same at the moment.
They arrived at the room he was staying at, only a few numbers away from Jon's as he'd seen yesterday. The keycard was already in his hand, somehow heavier than he remembered it. Even he was at a loss for words, something that barely ever happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing really came out. And seriously, he probably looked like a complete fool right then. His free hand scratched the back of his neck, running over the short-shaven hair before he took a deep breathe and again tried to speak, but this time it was Jon who beat him to it.
"Thanks for the good time. Keeping me company and shit, ya know?"
He managed to catch his eye for a split second, swearing he'd seen a flicker of hope in those dark hues, but before he could really read them Jon looked down at the rather ugly carpet again. A hum was the only response he could muster as his fingers played with the keycard, and as the other man didn't say anything else, he closed his eyes briefly before turning around and opening the door with a short flick of the card.
Fuck, he needed to do something and he needed to do it now. Before he stepped into the room, he turned around again just in time for him to see Jon already taking the first steps towards his own room and with the last courage he could muster, he formed the words he hadn't said in a very, very long time. To anyone. "Wanna come in?"
Jon turned around at the hesitant words, tongue once more sneaking out to wet the dry lips as he studied his features, disbelief sparkling in his eyes. Suspicion maybe even. He felt his heart hammer viciously in his chest, small shocks going through his body as he waited for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds. Then Jon shrugged and came back. A long sigh escaped his lips, one of relief, as he held the door open for the younger man to join him in his room. The second Jon passed him, he held his breathe again and closed his eyes, fully aware of the others body temperature and hard muscles pressing against him for the shortest amount of time, the sweet scent of cinnamon invading his senses. He grasped the door tightly, willing for his body not to react, not yet, too soon, somehow managing to calm his racing heart by thinking of ugly faces and bloodied bodies.
When he opened his eyes again, Jon was standing somewhat awkwardly in his room, hands still deep in his pockets, whipping back and forth on his heels. Just as lost as he was.
"Uhmm… want something to drink?"
"We gotta get going in a few hours. Probably not the best idea."
Of course, Jon was right and he inwardly cursed himself for such a stupid question, biting his lip. "Yeah, uhmmm…"
"Ya know, I don't usually…"
"Me neither… not in a long time."
Jon glanced at him with a tiny bit of curiosity before breaking out into a full out laugh, whole body shaking. He arched his brows at him, silently asking for the reason of the outburst until understanding wordlessly and joining in. It really was a weird situation, the two of them -else so loudmouthed, cocky bastards- at a loss for words, nervous little schoolboys without an idea what to do or where to go from there. He was the first to catch his breathe again after a few minutes, shaking his head and wiping his eyes free of the tears of laughter that had formed, focusing solemnly on the man a few feet away from him. The silence caught on to Jon and he managed to turn his own laughter into a breathless chuckle, staring back with just the same intensity in his eyes. Neither of them spoke a word for minutes until…
They both moved at pretty much the same time, bodies colliding, lips clashing, tongues instantly starting to fight for dominance. Hands were everywhere, touching, feeling, exploring, grasping almost desperately at materials to get rid of everything that separated them. The scene is a sight for sore eyes, jackets carelessly shucked aside, shirts flying, pants dropping, long, toned legs stumbling out of them. There's harsh panting, some cursing, stuttering, groaning, hands roaming whatever they can find until all clothes are off and Randy finally breaks away from Jon's swollen, begging lips for a minute to admire the body in front of him. All of it.
Though he'd seen him shirtless many times, this was a lot different. This here was up close, private, the whole body and he couldn't help but to stare. Under the usually saggy clothes lay a very, very beautiful body, perfectly fit, nicely toned, spotlessly tanned. "You're drooling." He was pulled out of his thoughts by Jon's voice, meeting the blonde's eyes to only to see him smirking, full of confidence, of self-awareness. That little cocky fucker knew exactly what he had and had no shame in presenting it.
"Now you're being cocky, huh?" Randy arched a brow at the other, lips twitching up into a smirk as he watched the small blush creep up Jon's cheeks. "Get over here!" He crooked a finger at Jon, underlining his order. However, the blond man didn't budge. He just arched a brow in response, stoically staring back. "I don't listen to orders. You should know that by now." "Good… Will you come over here, PLEASE? Or do you just want us to stay here naked forever and stare at each other?"
Jon did move, reluctantly though, taking the two steps towards Randy until they stood close enough for their bodies to touch. "I'm not some random slut you can order around, who'll do everything you ask her to." "And I told you already, I don't usually do something like that here. When I'm nervous, I try to gain back control by ordering people around, just like you get cocky when you're nervous. Can we stop arguing now and get to the good stuff? Please?" He saw the flicker in Jon's eyes, the change in them as the anger disappeared and was replaced with something much softer, some emotion he couldn't quite place yet. It was enough though to make him press his lips to Jon's, rough, urging, the other thankfully returning the kiss without any resistance or fighting. It wasn't pretty, not soft or careful, it was messy, just tons of pent up emotions being thrown together, colliding in a clash of tongues.
Randy somehow won the fight for dominance, stirring Jon onto the bed, climbing on top of him, nestling his body between eagerly spread legs. Only then did they break their kiss, both panting for air, urgently, while staring at each other with hooded eyes. Tongues darted out simultaneously to lick lips. One of Randy's hands found its way into Jon's hair, twisting it, getting a firm hold of it only to smash their lips together again. Not for long this time though. His lips found a way down to Jon's chin, nipping, kissing, teeth scraping along the rough, scrubby skin. With pride he took in the breathy moans leaving Jon's mouth, the slight shivers cursing through the other's body as his hand traveled down the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen with an almost feather-like touch.
He stopped only when his fingers came into contact with Jon's already rock-hard dick, thumb brushing over the very wet tip. A grin formed on his lips when Jon bucked into the touch, an almost sluttish moan escaping the younger man, one so unlike the man he always pretended to be. As soon as that moan slipped past Jon's lips though, he bit onto them hard, eyes opening wide, staring down at Randy in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, a look the older only knew way too well. The walls were back up again, he could see it in those clouded eyes, but he was determined to make them crumble. For good.
His fingers closed around the weeping length and started a slow rhythm, firm, making sure to swipe his thumb over the leaking head each time his hand made it to the top. His lips meanwhile were attached to the smooth skin of the other man, worshipping it almost, as he slowly kissed and licked his way down to his pre-chosen prey. His eyes stayed fixed on Jon's, watching his expression closely, every oh-so-little change in it, studying even the tiniest reaction. If he had started this whole night without any plan at all, he now had it all precisely thought through, from the beginning to the hopefully earth-shattering, breath taking, funny-walking-for-days end.
Jon's eyes literally begged with Randy as his lips got closer and closer to his likeable destination. His hips rose off the soft sheets in synch with Randy's fist, his weeping sex being expertly treated. It felt so different to a woman's touch, so much firmer, less delicate, nothing careful or sensitive about it. Randy's fingers had a mission and they were very close in completing it. Just he hoped that something else would be wrapped around his dick soon. Thus, a disappointed grunt left his lips when Randy's mouth made a detour around his waiting sex, instead kissing his inner thighs one after another before licking a small path up to his balls. Instead of taking them into the hot caverns of his mouth though, Randy barely flicked his tongue over them, smirking when Jon's whole body shuddered thanks to the small contact. He could only imagine what kind of reaction he'd get under other circumstances.
His hand speed up just a little while his tongue traveled only a few millimeters deeper, licking over Jon's crack. The blonde's body rose off the sheets, a needy groan ringing through the air drowning out the soft snicker Randy couldn't hold back. He repeated the action gaining the exactly same reaction from Jon, this time though he let his tongue linger over the small, twitching pucker, flicking back and forth. Jon's breathing was almost erratic already, fingers tightly grasping the sheets, eyes firmly shut. Something about it bothered Randy, something seemed off to him. It did not seem like Jon was enjoying this but more like he was holding back.
Growling, Randy licked over Jon's pucker with more pressure than before, thumb continuously wiping over the leaking tip of the desperately pulsing cock in his hand. He could feel that the other was close already, trying his damnest to get him off, hoping that he'd finally relax then. When his tongue finally pushed into the spasming hole, Jon's body tensed completely, the blonde's eyes flying open just for a second, but long enough for Randy to see, and to understand. He pulled back just a little, licking his lips, watching Jon's eyes flutter shut again, the chest rising and falling heavily, the teeth worrying swollen lips.
"Shit, I didn't bet you for…"
"Yeah, well…"
"I'm gonna make this so fucking good for you."
"Stop the sugar-coating, Orton, and get on with it."
Though he arched a brow at Jon's outburst, he wasn't really surprised. It was Jon's way of coping with nervousness or embarrassment; that he had learned already. However, he didn't know if following the order would be the wisest decision.
"Damn it, Orton, I'm not a porcelain doll. I won't break. Stop being a pussy and do it!"
He didn't need to be told twice. Not with an order like that, not if Jon insisted. The hand he had still firmly wrapped around Jon's sex dropped down to his ass, joining the other one in lifting Jon's hips off the bed for better access. After spitting on the reddened pucker, his tongue darted out, going straight for the quivering hole this time, sneaking its way inside. Jon only hissed once at the unused intrusion, body tensing up again, but soon he was rocking his hips back and forth in synch with Randy's movements. His tongue moved as deep as it could, lapping at the inner walls, tickling them, exploring, while he listened to every hitch in Jon's breathing, every little groan, every little moan.
When Jon finally seemed to relax a little, he pushed his thumb into the tight opening alongside his tongue and to his surprise, there came no sound of discomfort. He replaced his tongue with his thumb after the little experiment, soon switching to a finger, then two until Jon was writhing above him, body begging for more. While his fingers worked the blonde open, stretching him, he trailed his tongue over his weeping, twitching sex, following the thick vein on its underside. He could feel every rifle, every muscle, every nerve as he licked and lapped at the pulsing flesh before finally giving in to temptation and wrapping his lips around the leaking head. Jon's body spasmed uncontrollably at the action, Randy stopping in his movements, fingers and lips stilling, waiting. Until he heard, what he wanted to hear.
"Fuck, Orton, don't… stop!"
Grinning around the aroused girth, he lowered his lips further, taking in as much as he could while he slipped a third finger into the twitching hole. Though Jon tensed for a moment, Randy didn't waste any time, lips and fingers working in synch, up and down, in and out, fast, deep, hard, teeth scraping over pulsing flesh, fingers twisting, turning and stretching. Jon was a writhing, cursing mess by the time Randy released him; the Missouri-native giving his own aching sex a few rough strokes before he positioned himself at the carefully prepared hole. Without waiting for permission or any kind of okay, he slowly eased himself inside, gaze fixed on Jon's face to watch the range of emotions on it.
And there was a lot to watch. In the matter of a minute, Jon's expression changed from disappointed at the loss of contact to angry to pained to relief to fucking desperate. Desperate to get more of him inside, for Randy to go faster, to finally get it done with and bury himself completely inside his waiting, twitching hole. But Randy took his sweet time, enjoying the little torture, feeling the walls constrict around him, drawing him in, stretching, accommodating.
"Damn it, Orton… don't…" Jon was cut off by a low growl before lips smashed onto his, Randy holding himself up on either side of the blonde's head.
"You should know by now that I don't like following orders either!" Jon tried to catch his breath as Randy glared down at him, hips still, breathing even, only his muscles giving the tiniest of hints that he had a hard time himself holding back. They were twitching, visibly twitching, even though the rest of his body didn't move a bit.
When he finally managed to calm his nerves again, Jon bit his tongue. Not out of respect or fear, but he knew that another order or smart-ass-comment wouldn't get him anything, at least not what he wanted. Instead, he bucked his hips up, trying to let actions speak louder than words. Randy's groan turned into another growl, the older male's fingers digging hard into the sheets, eyes turning even darker. Jon repeated the action, gaining exactly the same reaction, just this time Randy dropped down to his elbows and smashed their lips together again. When he was done ravishing the hot mouth, he rubbed his nose over the stubbly cheek, whispering a growled "Brace yourself!" into Jon's ear.
Before the blond could grasp quite what that meant, Randy pulled out completely only to plunge back inside a second later. Jon's scream rang through the else silent room, his head lolling back, his lips hanging open as he gasped for air. Randy could feel the walls tearing. His gaze stayed fixed on Jon's face, watching it contort in pain with hazed hues. Jon's hands clawed at nothing in particular, just trying to find something, anything for purchase. He found it on Randy's biceps, fingers digging deep into the prominent muscles. A hiss slipped past Randy's lips at the sharp pain, but he put it aside quickly when Jon rocked his hips back against him. It shouldn't have surprised him that the blond liked the pain, even seemed to enjoy it.
He slowly drew out again, enjoying the soft whimper Jon gave at the loss of contact more than he'd ever admit it, before ramming back in, gaining a choked cry from the other, something that sounded remotely close to "Holy shit!" but got stuck in his throat. Licking his lips at the sight of Jon's obvious ecstasy, Randy repeated the action until Jon's back arched off the bed and his arms dropped to the sheets, fingers fisting the white material. Jon's eyes were closed, lips hanging open, his breathing harsh, strained, muscles tense. Even though he seemed to enjoy it, he wasn't completely there. He didn't give in.
With a frustrated growl, Randy took hold of Jon's hips and raised it up, slinging it over his shoulder. Jon's eyes fluttered open for only a few seconds, but not long enough for Randy to read in them. He pressed his lips to the blonde's somewhat desperately before he started to rock his hips again, not as deep as before but with the same force, faster, his free hand holding onto the headboard for leverage. It took a while, but eventually Jon returned the kiss, the younger man laying his hands in Randy's neck to hold him in place, to pull him even closer, his hips joining the rhythm of Randy's thrusts, taking him in, walls welcoming him, spasming around him.
When Randy finally pulled back to breath, he saw Jon's eyes wide open, staring right back at him, the darkest blue he'd ever seen literally swallowing him. His hips bucked uncontrollably for a moment, his brain overtaken by the sheer lust and emotional ballast he could see lying in Jon's pearls. He quickly scrambled out of the tightness, groaning as he looked down at himself to find a few trickles of blood coating his thick, throbbing sex, but he managed to catch himself again. Tongue wetting his lips, he locked eyes with the blond again, seeing something shift in that piercing gaze. Before he could figure it out though, Jon blinked and the lust in his eyes was back. Grunting, Randy smashed their lips together in the next moment, whispering a rather breathless "Turn around!" into Jon's mouth.
Though the body tensed under him again, Jon did as he was being told, rolling onto his stomach. Before he could even stretch out, Randy clamped his hands down onto his hips and pulled Jon into a kneeling position until the firm ass rested against his loins. In one fluid motion, he pushed back inside, biting back the groan wanting to escape as the tight heat engulfed him again. Jon's moan rang through the air, wanton, needy, a sound Randy'd probably keep locked in the back of his head for the lonely nights to come. He let his hands trail over the strong back, Jon arching more involuntarily into the touch. Withdrawing, Randy's gaze traveled down to the point where their bodies joined, his heart beating faster, stronger as he watched his dick slide in and out of the twitching hole. He raked his nails down the taut back, leaving red marks on the perfectly tanned skin. Jon groaned, throwing his head back, hips rocking back and forth in synch with Randy's well-timed, precisely-aimed thrusts.
Clamping his hands down on Jon's pert rear, Randy picked up the speed from before again, the bed underneath them creaking, shaking, sheets rustling, his grunts mixing with the choked gasps and breathless groans from the younger male. He was close to exploding, but not quite there yet, one thing still missing for him to let loose. And that was Jon finally letting go. He let his hands roam the blonde's back again before taking hold of his sides and leading him up into a kneeling position. As soon as his chest touched Jon's back, his hips stilled in their movement and his hands wandered over the other's muscular chest down to his abs, fingers barely ghosting over the shivering skin. Jon inhaled audibly, letting his head loll back onto Randy's shoulder, his body craving the tender touch, enjoying it more than he wanted. More than he'd ever admit.
"Let it go!" Though Randy's voice was barely above a whisper, the message was clear and Jon understood exactly what the other meant. That didn't mean though, that he could so easily follow the request. Closing his eyes, the blond inhaled sharply, muscles more tense than after most of his matches. He wanted to enjoy this as much as Randy did, but his fucking mind just wouldn't shut down. Randy felt the inner turmoil of the other, letting his hands wander over Jon's body as he slowly started to pick up his rhythm again, lips trailing a path from Jon's ear to his shoulder to his neck. He'd known right from the first kiss that Jon'd be hard to crack, but he wasn't one to give up that easily. While one hand slithered down to Jon's abandoned erection, the other moved up to the blonde's neck. Fingers were loosely wrapped around it, pulling Jon's head closer to him, thumb massaging his pulse-point. Jon's gasp filled the air as Randy's hand closed around his throbbing girth in exactly the moment when his dick hit the sweet bundle of nerves inside of him. It was the moment that Jon's mind finally stopped working and his body relaxed.
"Come on, Jon, stop holding back… Let it go!"
It only needed one, two, three firm strokes, Randy's sex continuously rubbing his prostate, and finally Jon surrendered. He let go with a loud howl, his dick twitching, body spasming, a loud "Fuck, Orton!" ringing through the air as he slumped forward. Randy kept his arm around the blonde's waist, thrusts erratic, frantic, the twitching walls giving his sex the attention it craved, the last straw he needed to follow. He managed to scramble out in time, exploding before he even touched himself, covering Jon's pert rear in white pearls. With a breathless, muttered "Shit", he collapsed right next to Jon, arm covering the other's back, hand instinctively stroking the sweaty skin before he tried to pull the blonde's body close to him.
"I really don't usually do that."
"Hmmm…" Jon sat up straight and stretched without giving Randy the smallest of glances or the chance to soak in the aftermath, before turning to sit at the edge of the bed. He didn't see the questioning look the other shot him or the short flicker of hurt on the others face when he bend down to grab his shoes.
"Uhmm… where are ya going?"
"We're leaving soon." Jon's voice was as stern and calm as ever. As if nothing at all had happened. Matter of factly.
"Still over an hour."
"Yeah, but I wanna shower and change before."
"Look, Moxley…" Jon did stop in his actions to do just that, to look at Randy with an arched brow, expression blank.
"I don't know what you expected out of this, Orton, but… I'm not the kinda guy to cuddle or even date."
"Well, good, me neither." His expression though told a different story as he rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow to get a better look at the man he'd just had fucked through the mattress so thoroughly. "Doesn't mean you have to leave so quickly."
Jon turned fully around then, dropping his shoes, confusion showing in his still slightly hooded browns. Randy, though, just smirked at him, stretching his arm out to take hold of the others wrist. "Come on, Moxley, stay a bit. We still have some time. Let's talk. Or doze a little. I might just let you fuck me through the shower-wall later." He could see the confusion in Jon's eyes giving way to temptation; the younger mans lips twitching up into a half-smile. Then the words seemed to really register and his brow shot up. "I wouldn't have bet you for…" "Yeah, well, I don't usually. But there's always a first, right?"
Next time, maybe, he'd get Jon to use his first name when screaming to the heavens.
This was the last fic I had up my sleeve. I'm gonna concentrate on my German stuff for a while, but you never know when my English-speaking muses will show up again :-P