Disclaimer: I don't own these boys, Disney does. I just corrupt them.
A/N: A departure from my usual Javidy business. Hopefully I got this right.
P.S. I want a better title. If you have a suggestion, e-mail me.
Spot Conlon bit down until the other boy protested with a sharp but low cry, then he dragged his mouth from shoulder to exposed neck and sucked hard. There was never any kissing involved when they did this. That was the unspoken arrangement. He was no pansy. He didn't kiss boys.
Beneath him, the other boy struggled upward between gasps for breath, but Spot pressed a hand to his chest and held him firmly against the damp sand. He might be skinnier, but years spent on the streets and around the docks assured that he wasn't weaker. At his waist, Spot felt fingers fumble with the buttons on his trousers. The fingers gave up in frustration and instead yanked at his shirt until the hem came untucked, stroked his side once, then latched onto his hip.
Want burned across him, but Spot didn't utter a single noise of pleasure or otherwise. Instead he glared into the other boy's eyes and grabbed at the hand on his hip, wrenching it a few inches over and pressing it firmly between his own legs. The boy obeyed silently, blue gaze wide and intense but unafraid -- they both wanted the same thing.
A few minutes and stifled, strangled groans later, they got it.
Spot rolled off David and stared up at the thick boards of the dock. The air was full of salt and fish and tar and sweat as he worked to steady his breathing. Other than tugging his pants back in place, David hadn't moved.
Spot sat up, shoving his shirt into his trousers. He always made sure he was first to recover, first to leave. "Jacky-boy know what kind of business you got in Brooklyn?"
David laid still, one hand against his chest, the other clutching the sand. "I only come here when he sends me."
"Yeah." Spot narrowed his eyes. David hadn't quite answered the question, but he almost preferred it that way. After all, David didn't get his reputation as a mouth just for knowing what to say -- Spot counted on David exactly because he knew what not to say.