My first MoArry fic! (Yays! Join me in a dance!) Hopefully not my last, either.
This is Moe and Larry from the 2012 movie, not the originals. ZOMG. I couldn't do this to the originals, lol. Moe would slap me senseless for starters.
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
(Rated M)
The three bumbleheads were asleep. In the same bed. It was something they did all the time- having grown up together from babies, they didn't know any different. At least, up until now they hadn't known any different.
But times were changing.
Larry Fine lay wide awake on his right side staring miserably at the back of Moe Howard's head. Moe was also on his right side, and therefore facing away from Larry, towards the door. Behind Larry, Curly Howard grunted and snuffled and occasionally whined and kicked his leg like a big dreaming puppy.
Somehow Larry always ended up in the middle, bracketed by the two Howard brothers. Men who were bigger and bolder and more confident in every way than he was. Curly was a numbskull of the highest order but he was so carefree and unselfconscious about it. And Moe-
Well, there were no words to describe Moe that seemed to fit. You could call him bossy, you could call him bad-tempered, irascible, cranky, moody and fidgety, but he wasn't just that. Not like Curly, who was a dimwit, and a dimwit he would always be. For starters, Moe was surprisingly handsome and possessed an incredible amount of depth if you were willing (or brave enough) to look past the grumpy, scowling, beetle-browed exterior. Sometimes those depths were murkier than the ocean after a tropical storm. You couldn't always fathom what was going on behind those chocolate brown eyes- and if you tried looking, you were more than likely to be slapped soundly across the chops for your troubles.
Larry stared longingly at Moe's hair. Moe had such thick, dark glossy hair, so completely different to Larry's ginger frizz. 'Fuzzball' was what Moe always called him. Larry's red hair curled and twisted and got into knots and there was no point in even combing it because the teeth of the comb always snapped off. Whereas Moe's hair was always jet black, shiny and flat and his bangs were so thick and glossy. Just right for running your fingers through...
Larry longed to rub his face and lips against the back of Moe's head where the hairs were shortest. Moe kept his bangs long and shaved the rest of his hair below his ears as close to the neck as he could. After a couple of weeks those short hairs would be soft and fuzzy, glinting in the light, just asking to be kissed and nuzzled. Sometimes when Moe was frustrated at something he'd rub his own hand over those short hairs, as though comforting himself. Larry would die a little inside, watching Moe's fingers caressing his own neck. How could one man be so lucky as to make love to himself without even knowing!
Tonight the hair on the back of Moe's neck was looking sweeter and more inviting than ever. Larry was tired of being the Stooge in the middle. The one being kicked and drooled on by Curly sleeping like a frisky dog. It was about time he rewarded himself for always ending up with the short straw.
Larry snuggled up against Moe, daring to spoon the leader of the Stooges in his sleep. Moe mumbled, but he didn't awaken or stir. They were all wearing pajamas, as they always did, and Larry waited a couple of minutes to readjust himself to this new position in their bed.
When he had plucked up enough courage, Larry put his lips gently against the back of Moe's neck. As soon as he felt those short, jet black bristles touch his lips, a surge of electricity sizzled through his whole body. Moe's skin was hot above his pajama collar. The soft, downy hair felt like suede against Larry's lips. Moe murmured again, but he remained fully asleep. Larry lay there, quietly holding his breath, his mouth resting gently against Moe's neck.
After another few moments, and realising how deep in slumber Moe was, Larry began to gain confidence. He opened his mouth and stroked his lips all over Moe's neck, lightly running them over the short fuzzy hairs, breathing in the warm, manly scent of Moe and his pajamas that smelled of laundry detergent.
"Mmm, yeah," Moe mumbled, suddenly.
Larry froze in the middle of kissing Moe's neck, his pink lips open in an O shape against his leader's skin. He blinked his blue eyes and waited. Nothing further happened, so he began kissing Moe's neck again. After another moment or two, Moe twitched under the bedclothes and let out another sigh.
"'S real nice, cutie pie," he garbled, sleepily.
Larry tensed, expecting a slap which never came.
"Aww, baby, why'd you stop?" Moe murmured.
"'m sorry," Larry apologised. Gleefully he started kissing Moe's neck with more confidence than ever, now he knew that Moe was enjoying it. Enjoying it! It was like Larry's birthday and Christmas had all come at once. He touched Moe's neck with the tip of his tongue and stroked it through those short, fuzzy hairs. Moe spoke again, and Larry could hear the smile in the Howard boy's voice.
"Aw, honey pie. You feel so good..."
"You like this, don't'cha, Moe?" Larry grinned, nibbling and sucking tenderly on Moe's warm and so desirable neck.
"Mmmmm. Yeahhhh, I..." Suddenly, at the sound of Larry's voice, Moe went quiet. Larry tensed, for real this time. "Honey?" Moe inquired softly.
"Uh...yeah, angel?" Larry said, nervously.
Moe loomed up out of the bed on his elbow and slowly turned over three quarters of the way so that he could see who was behind him. When his sleepy brown eyes met Larry's scared blue ones, Moe's face visibly changed colour- from normal flesh tone, to white, to slightly gray and then almost purple. On seeing that it was Larry who had been sucking so deliciously on his neck, Moe's rage made him tremble. He rolled over almost on top of Larry, pinning the hapless fuzzball into the mattress and raising his fist above Larry's face. "What's the idea?" he hissed like an angry cat, trying to contain his rage at least enough not to wake up the slumbering, snoring Curly. "Tryin' ta make me think you were a dame!"
"I wasn't tryin' ta make you think that, Moe!" Larry pleaded. "I wasn't, I swear!"
Moe sneered down into the porcupine's face. "Then what were you tryin' to do, Romeo?" he growled, his face just inches from Larry's.
"Nothin', Moe, nothin'!" Larry knew he was starting to sound like a whiny kid. Moe's expression turned to one of disgust.
"Oh? You were kissing and licking my neck and you weren't tryin' to do nothin'? Larry, I'm disappointed in you. Why you always got to try and worm yourself outta trouble? Why can't you own up and accept your punishment like a man?" Moe put his finger under Larry's nose and flicked upwards. Larry instantly got the urge to sneeze. Moe watched in delight as the bushy-haired Stooge's face contorted as he tried to stop the sneeze from blasting out and waking Curly.
"You're a lost cause, porcupine," Moe laughed softly. "Without me you'd be wanderin' around in the world without even a pair o' boots to keep ya feet warm. Now pipe down and let me get back to sleep." Moe rolled off Larry and resumed his position in the bed. But the sight of the short hairs on the back of his neck was too irresistible to Larry. He'd already had a taste and he wanted...no, he needed, more. Without even caring what Moe's reaction would be, Larry once again pressed his mouth against Moe's neck and licked the bowl haired Stooge's skin with the tip of his hot, wet tongue.
"Dammit, porcupine," Moe hissed. "What the...?!"
Larry just ignored him now. He tickled Moe's hair with his nose, breathed warmly against Moe's scalp. "You smell like sarsaparilla," Larry sighed.
"That a compliment or what?" Moe grunted, squirming under Larry's gentle ministrations.
"It is if you like sarsaparilla," Larry giggled.
"You like sarsaparilla?" Moe asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"I love it," Larry nodded.
"I don't know if I oughta be flattered or not," Moe reasoned. By now his voice had lost its harsh, sharp edges and was now low and husky, letting Larry know that he was actually beginning to enjoy the tender kisses Larry was planting just above the neckline of his pajamas.
"Be flattered," Larry smiled. "I meant it in a nice way."
"I guess," said Moe. "Beats bein' told I smell like a skunk, anyway."
"Even skunks smell nice to other skunks," Larry said, closing his eyes and filling his lungs with the warm scent of Moe.
Moe reached around and found Larry's hand with his. The leader of the Stooges twined his fingers through Larry's and pulled Larry's hand around to his front. Larry smiled to himself, now that his arm was firmly around the object of his desire.
"What's changed your mind?" Larry asked. "A few moments ago you were ready to brain me!"
"Yeah, well...consider yaself on reprieve. It's late and I'm tired and I don't want to wake the flathead."
"Then why ya holdin' my hand?" Larry persisted.
"So that if ya try anythin' funny, I can break your fingers," Moe deadpanned.
Larry grinned to himself. "I bet you would, too, ya big bully."
Moe's other hand came round the side of his head and slapped Larry on the cheek but due to the angle of his arm and the fact that the bowl head Stooge was still half-asleep, it wasn't much of a slap, more of a light swat, which Larry took to mean a sign of grudging affection.
Moe settled down again onto his side and made contented noises with his lips as his head sank back onto the pillow. Larry snuggled closer, happily spooning his leader with the whole length of his body. He rested his chin in the crook of Moe's neck, his nose planted just below Moe's earlobe in that soft, vulnerable little spot that people didn't really take any notice of until they were in bed with someone and realised just how much they wanted to kiss it. He breathed softly through his nose, sending tiny puffs of air over Moe's skin, making the bowl head tremble once or twice. After a couple of sweet moments nuzzling those velvety short hairs, Larry sighed gently against the back of Moe's head. "When was the last time a dame did this to you anyway?" he murmured, cheekily.
"Mind ya own business, Fuzzhead," Moe grumbled.
"Oh, that long ago, eh," Larry chuckled. He flicked out the moistened pink tip of his tongue and caught Moe's earlobe with it.
"Christ..." Moe muttered.
"I didn't think you were religious," Larry whispered. "Not after all those nuns."
Moe leaned his head back, allowing Larry to take his full earlobe into his hot, sweet mouth. Moe groaned quietly. His hand tightened around Larry's under the blankets, clutching both their hands to his chest. Larry could feel a slight tremor in Moe's grip. He hoped, no, he suspected, it was a tremor of desire. After all, it was a warm, Spring night.
The bowl head and the fuzzball were now as close as they could be together with their pajamas on. Moe with his head tipped back on the pillow, his neck vein visibly pulsing, and Larry with his mouth on Moe's throat, working his fingers gently inside Moe's pajama top and onto his smooth, warm, naked chest. Moe wriggled in the bed, instinctively pushing his ass back against Larry's groin. Larry felt himself going hard.
Larry skimmed his hand down Moe's stomach and into the waistband of the bowl head's pajamas, making Moe squirm his hips and whimper something inaudible under his breath. What Larry found down there was something he didn't expect. Moe was burning up and fully erect, even harder than Larry himself was. His rock hard member was more than a handful and Larry's fingers closed around it greedily. "What gives, Moe?" the fuzzhead asked. "I thought you were gonna break my fingers if I tried anything funny. So what's with the 4th of July flagpole here?"
"Don't flatter yourself, porcupine," Moe drawled. "I got a head start from when I thought you were a dame."
Larry snorted back a gulp of laughter in case Curly heard and woke up. "Dames," he grinned. "What d'you know about 'em. I bet you don't even know how to kiss."
Moe harrumphed, insulted. "And you do?"
"I bet I know better than you."
"I betcha don't."
"Try me."
Moe grunted softly. He rolled onto his back and settled down into the mattress. His thick, dark bangs were adorably messed up and he looked in dire need of a shave. His deep brown eyes began traveling slowly over every inch of Larry's face. Larry wondered what he was thinking. Did Moe think he was handsome? Larry sighed inwardly. Probably not. And even if he did, their leader would never in a million years admit it. He gazed back at Moe and almost began drooling at the thought of kissing those slightly smirking lips.
"You could pass for a dame, ya know that, you lunkhead? You got a soft look about you."
Larry didn't know quite how to take that comment but Moe was smiling so it must have been a joke, Larry figured. He knew he had crazy, curly red hair and soft pink lips, and okay maybe sometimes he laughed a bit high pitched like a girl. But he was all guy, and the throbbing flagpole in the front of his own pants was more than the proof he needed.
"So...you okay with kissin' me?" Larry teased, leaning his forearm on Moe's chest.
Moe shrugged. "Beggars can't be choosers. Right, porcupine?"
"I dunno," Larry smiled. "I've met some pretty choosy beggars in my time." He leaned down even closer, casting a dark shadow across Moe's face.
"Oh, man of the world, eh," Moe chuckled. "Remind me to slap ya when I wake up."
Just as Larry closed his eyes he saw Moe close his too, but not all the way- there were still two slivers of warm, chocolate brown gazing interestedly through the bowl head's eyelashes as Larry gently, finally, touched his leader's lips with his.
Time stood maddeningly still as Larry anticipated Moe's shout of disgust and a ringing slap across the ear. But nothing happened- nothing bad, anyway. Moe just lay there, breathing deeply through his nose, his lips yielding ever so slightly as Larry pressed in on top of him. Soon the two Stooges were engaged in full mouth on mouth contact, and Larry lost himself in the feel of Moe's stubbly chin scratching against his.
Moe opened his mouth and his lips began to take possession of Larry's. It was no less than Larry had expected from a born leader like Moe, and way more than he had dared to hope for. A warm, rough hand worked its way up out of the blankets and cupped Larry's jaw. Larry moaned softly. Moe stroked the side of Larry's face and pulled gently down on Larry's chin with his thumb, causing Larry's mouth to open yet further. It was all Larry could do not to ejaculate inside his pants when Moe slid his hot, probing tongue all the way into Larry's eager, welcoming mouth. The kiss deepened and became wet and hungry. Moe lifted his head off the pillow as though determined to cram as much tongue into Larry's mouth as possible, holding Larry still by the back of the neck. The porcupine eagerly wound his fingers through Moe's glossy, jet black bangs, something he'd wanted to do for more years than he cared to remember. As the kiss got hotter and hotter, Larry couldn't help rubbing himself against Moe under the blankets, his rigid pole colliding with Moe's rigid pole through both sets of pajama bottoms.
Moe bit down gently on Larry's lower lip. Larry yelped and responded by pushing his erection hard down onto Moe's, grinding himself onto his leader, the man he had wanted for so long.
"Mmm...get'n frisky, eh," Moe mumbled. He pushed his free hand into Larry's pajama pants and grabbed him firmly without so much as a by-your-leave. "Hey. I wonder what'd happen if I pulled this. Maybe you'd start singing, huh? I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy?"
"Moe, oh god, Moe...quit it willya," Larry gasped, squirming and wriggling as Moe stroked him harder and faster.
"Quit it? You sure?"
"No...I mean yes...I mean...oh god, what if Curly wakes up..."
"We'll tell the bubblehead he can't join in." Moe laughed throatily, gazing up at Larry's contorting expressions as he brought the fuzzhead closer and closer to sweet release.
Larry collapsed on top of Moe, trying to stop the cascade of erotic sensations from overwhelming him as Moe kept fondling and stroking and sliding his hand all around his crown jewels. The bed started rocking while the porcupine rolled and undulated in ecstasy on top of Moe who lay beneath him with one hand thrust down his pants.
"I..I thought we was just meant to be kissin'..." Larry groaned, huskily.
"Ain't you a grown boy?" Moe teased, breathing hard now with the exertion. "Don'cha know what kissin' leads to?"
Larry buried his face in the heat of Moe's neck. This was all beyond his wildest dreams and in fact he wondered if maybe he was dreaming. Any minute now he'd wake up and find he was humping the pillows while Moe and Curly stood at the foot of the bed, watching him and laughing.
"You like this, don'tcha Larry?" Moe sang in a soft voice, mimicking the way Larry had said the same thing to him earlier.
"Oh goddd...oh yeah..." Larry's voice came out in a strangled rasp against Moe's neck. He pumped his hips into Moe's hand over and over and suddenly, without warning, he came all over Moe's fingers. The bed rocked violently and Curly nearly fell out of the other side. The bald dimwit whined like a dog and snapped his teeth together before settling down into another deep cycle of sleep, completely unaware that his two frisky compadres were engaged in sexual misconduct right beside him.
"Ew," grunted Moe. "You are like, sooo disgusting, dude." He pulled out his sticky hand and stared at the pearly fluid coating his fingers, pressing his fingertips together a few times, watching the sticky strands as they stretched out. He even brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed them, then screwed up his face like a kid being forced to eat broccoli.
"Can you stop talkin' like you're on Jersey Shore please?" mumbled Larry. "It's such a passion killer."
"Huh? Ain't that why you're stuck on me?" Moe pouted. He wiped his fingers on Larry's pajama bottoms. "Thought my new celebrity status gave you the wood, if y'know what I mean."
Larry pushed himself up onto his elbow, again propped on Moe's chest. His face was shiny, exhausted and happy. His blue eyes burned brightly into Moe's curious brown ones. "You don't have to be a celebrity to give me the wood, Moe," he grinned. "I liked ya even when you was just a regular dumb schmuck."
Moe's head darted up and landed a swift, cute little kiss on Larry's mouth. "There," he chuckled. "That's what I call the 'hit and run'."
Larry smiled. "Kinda like tag. Or kiss chase."
"Kiss chase?" Moe frowned, pretending to be sore. "What do I look like a girl to you?"
Larry giggled. "Yeah. Sometimes. Like, when you look through your eyelashes, like you're doin' right now."
"Get ahhtta here," Moe said, slapping Larry like the touch of a feather on his orgasm flushed face. "You're startin' to sound creepy."
Larry rubbed the end of his nose against Moe's. "You love it," he teased. "But the question is, when do I get to return the favour?"
Moe scowled and shook his dark head on the pillow. "Nothin' doin', fuzzball. I can take care of myself."
Larry giggled. Moe blushed.
"Okay, okay, laugh it up, you chucklehead. I just ain't ready for that just yet. You know me." Moe's eyes twinkled up at Larry. "I've always been better at dishin' it out than takin' it."
"And boy, do you dish it out," Larry giggled, girlishly.
Suddenly the bald woodentop laying in deep slumber beside them let out a loud, wet, snuffling snore and began to fidget in the bed. Outside, dawn was on the horizon. Another Spring day was waiting in the traps, ready to be sprung. "Sssh," Moe grinned, putting a sticky finger on Larry's lips. "The brontosaurus is wakin' up."
Reluctantly, Larry eased himself off of Moe. The two Stooges fixed up their pajamas and straightened the blankets around them. Larry patted down his hair and relaxed back into the bed, feeling like a tiny baby bird in the middle of a nest with its two big, strong brothers. It was a nice feeling- a comforting feeling. He didn't ever want to stop feeling protected by the Howard brothers. He loved Curly like a brother, but he loved Moe like something else. Like somehow Moe had always been a part of him, from even before he was born.
Moe turned back onto his right side, away from Larry. But Larry didn't mind- the moment was over and things were back to normal.
"Go back to sleep, porcupine," Moe mumbled. "And don't forget to remind me to crack ya one in the morning."
"I look forward to it," Larry smiled. "Dyna-Moe."
"There's a party in my pants tonight," Moe replied, and the two knuckleheads snuggled up in the blankets and laughed themselves softly back to sleep.