Hey guys!
I was feeling inspired to write smut so here's a one-shot type thing.
Although I guess it's implied that they're already in a relationship?
Yeah, I just wanted to write some fluffy stuff. Considering all Dip fics are angst, angst, angst.
Enjoy!
Sighing softly to himself, Pip cradled the cup of tea he was holding in his hands; enjoying the heat that warmed his palms. His knees were pulled up to his chest, the novel he had picked up from the library earlier that day balancing on his legs.
Quite often, Damien would comment on his sitting positions. He would call Pip odd and warn that he would probably develop back problems when he grew older. It wasn't as if he did it all the time, Pip would retort, returning to his novel without another word.
On this particular evening, Damien seemed too absorbed in the television to make a remark of any kind. It was a documentary of sorts, it seemed. Damien wasn't a big fan of television; but Pip knew that Damien had taken interest to learning about anything that involved mass killings, disasters or genocides. While that sounded terribly sociopathic to Pip at first Damien swore it was just a matter of innocent interest. Damien stared at the screen, taking the occasional sip from his cup of coffee as he listened to the case study done on the Chernobyl disaster.
Their evenings consisted of mostly this. Both men sitting in silence, minding their own business but undoubtedly enjoying the other's company. It was nothing to complain about, really, but on this particular evening—Pip was feeling restless. A terrible day at school made him want to run home, curl up in Damien's lap and never leave the house ever again.
Slyly, Pip placed his book down on the coffee table and moved closer to Damien. The boy didn't seemed phased until Pip laid his head on Damien's shoulder, snuggling against him. At first glance—Damien looked like the most vile, rude and terribly unpleasant person that one could possibly wish to associate with. But Pip knew that Damien had a huge soft spot—especially when it came to Pip.
He took complete advantage of this.
As if on instinct, Damien's arm wrapped around Pip's shoulders, pulling the boy closer and resting his head on top of Pip's. The Brit's heart fluttered, prompting him to snuggle closer. The faint smell of ash and brimstone mingled with hazelnut coffee could only be described as the scent of Damien, and it was more than welcoming to Pip. He relaxed in his lover's arms, not wanting to distract him from his show but still desiring attention. Damien noticed this. While his attention was fixed on the television screen, his fingers still combed through Pip's blond hair soothingly.
Pip forced himself to watch the documentary, as unpleasant as it may be, because otherwise he knew he would fall asleep. He still had homework to do. The opposite seemed to be on Damien's mind, however, for Pip could pick up the faint traces of snoring coming from the man nestled against him.
The Brit smirked slightly.
As the credits rolled, Pip picked the remote off of Damien's lap and muted the television. He stirred then, turning himself to face his lover. Careful not to cause too much of a ruckus—he seated himself on Damien's lap.
Damien was out. His mouth hung open slightly, gentle snores passing his lips as his eyelids twitched occasionally. His raven lashes brushed against his flawless features, pale skin illuminated by the light radiating from the television. Pip smiled to himself, leaning in to press his lips to Damien's cheekbone. He lingered there, hardly lifting pressure as he left soft kisses all down his lover's face; down his jaw and up his chin, then up his nose.
Hardly able to contain himself, Pip lifted his hands to slide up the boy's sweater. He tugged at the fabric slightly; as if giving warning to his next actions. He proceeded anyways, thin fingers trailing up the warmth of Damien's tummy. He traced all along his abdomen then up to his torso, drawing patterns and hearts all over the familiar territory as he mapped it for the millionth time.
"Pip," Damien muttered, voice laced with sleep. He opened his eyes; taking a moment to acknowledge what the boy was doing before his lips twisted up into a crooked smirk. "—my, Pip. I didn't realize you had ulterior motives."
"I didn't," Pip responded simply, dragging his lips along Damien's jawline. The faint traces of stubble tickled his face but that was soon forgotten as their lips meshed. Pip sighed deeply against Damien, hands pressing harder against his chest in kneading circles to voice his approval while words failed him. He wouldn't part lips with Damien for the world. The noirette's tongue found its way into Pip's mouth, eagerly welcomed by an opposing force. Damien groaned quietly against the boy's lips as he pinched his pierced nipples; fingertips rubbing the buds to life under the layers of fabric. Pip felt a sense of accomplishment as Damien leaned into Pip's touches, heavy pants encouraging him onwards. Their kiss broke; to which Pip peppered his lips in short, needing pecks—teeth tugging at Damien's bottom lip as he gave the boy's nipples a particularly hard rub; earning another weak whimper.
"Shit, Pippers—" Damien cursed, red eyes cloudy with sudden desire. He reached down to unzip his sweater, then pulled his shirt up to his neck. He couldn't be bothered with taking the time to actually remove his clothing. Not with Pip being such a tease, at least. The boy shivered as the cold air reached his exposed skin; but his attention was soon drawn elsewhere as Pip dipped down, hands massaging Damien's sides as his lips clasped around Damien's nipple. He flicked his tongue skillfully, rolling around the metal of the piercing and tugging it ever-so-slightly between his lips.
"You like that shit?" Damien breathed huskily, eyeing Pip who—as usual—grew fascinated with playing with the metal stud.
Pip only nodded, lifting his mouth to bring his attention over his other hard bud. He gave the same treatment, fingers treading down Damien's front to play with the waistband of his jeans.
Damien chuckled breathlessly. His head fell back somewhat, turning to the side as he sighed into Pip's affection. He immediately tensed up again as Pip took advantage of this, biting sharply into Damien's neck. "A-Ah! Pip, fuck…!" He whined out, driving his hips up to grind against Pip's lower regions as he attacked his neck.
"You're quite vocal tonight," Pip commented softly. Never in a million years had the Brit thought he would attempt such embarrassing talk during intimacy; and felt rather flustered. Damien seemed to enjoy it, though, for he trembled slightly under Pip's touch. Each moan earned was a wave of encouragement—easing Pip onwards. "Damien,"
"Like you're complaining," The Antichrist retorted, hands finding purchase on either side of the blond's hips. He drove Pip downwards, grinding himself up against his clothed ass. Pip let out a gasp of surprise, whimpering as the actions shot straight to his lower regions. He rocked his hips eagerly against Damien's, hands clasping the boy's face as he pulled him into a desperate kiss. Their mouths meshed instantly; both men breathing heavily as sweat beaded their foreheads. Damien's shirt fell from its place, covering up his previously exposed front. The boy took this as a queue to swoop Pip up into his arms and scurry off to the bedroom. Which thankfully; was just down the hallway.
The second Pip was tossed on the bed, he was unbuckling, unzipping and removing every piece of clothing he had on. His shorts were gone in an instant—jacket, hat and bowtie soon following. Damien slapped Pip's hands away, making it apparent that he wanted to be the one to pull the Brit out of his last articles of clothing. Pip did the same, forcing Damien's sweater off his shoulders and yanking his shirt up over his arms. Pip must have had an expression of pure lust at the sight of Damien's bare torso; for the Antichrist laughed and pushed him down with a rough kiss.
Damien's fingers worked at unbuttoning Pip's vest, tossing it aside carelessly before finally working at his ruffled dress shirt. He fumbled with the buttons, grumbling against Pip's lips. "God damnit, Pip," He cursed, finally getting to the last button. "Cut it out with the button up shirts, will you?" He yanked the shirt open, throwing it aside as well.
"It's a fashion stateme—A-Aah! Oh—!" Pip had started, but was quickly cut off as Damien was the one to attack his neck. He knew Pip didn't care for sharp bites like Damien did; so he littered the boy's flesh in an array of kisses, sure to leave kiss marks in his wake. Pip's squirmed under his touch, thrusting his hips upwards to grind against Damien. He hissed, reaching down to unbuckle his own jeans and kick them off carelessly. Pip took advantage of his attention being elsewhere; placing his hands on Damien's hips and flipping their positions. He took a seat victoriously on his hips, leaning back and spreading his legs apart. Damien's expression was that of shock and raw desire, the corners of his lips quivering as he eyed Pip's briefs.
"Off," Damien whispered huskily. He leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss to the boy's lips before he helped ease the boy out of the undesired material. His British flag print briefs (typical) landed on the floor soundlessly, but neither men paid that any mind. Pip's face flared up in a dark crimson as Damien's eyes shot straight to what Pip had to offer. His red eyes darkened, hands running up and down Pip's hips as he pressed his clothed erection against Pip's entrance. The blonde whined at this, sitting up properly to reach for the lube in the bedside table drawer.
"Hurry," Damien murmured, pressing loving kisses all over Pip's shoulder as the boy rummaged through the mess in the drawer. He pulled out the half-empty bottle of warming lubricant, opening the bottle with a loud 'pop!' Damien took it from him, however, insisting that he would be the one to apply it. He squeezed a generous amount on his hand then lathered it up. His hand found Pip's entrance, to which his fingers massaged the area around it to relax him. Pip whimpered all the while, lips pressed to Damien's ear. He tugged at his earring needingly; encouraging the man onwards as he swayed his abdomen around eagerly. Damien hissed lowly, easing a single finger inside the boy. Pip groaned in discomfort, nails digging into Damien's shoulders as he forced himself to relax. Damien didn't mind and kept going, wiggling the digit around gently to stretch him.
"Fuck, Pip," Damien growled lowly, turning his head to kiss the Brit's cheek. Pip responded by giving him a loving peck to the lips. "Keep moaning in my ear like that and I'll cum in my shorts."
Pip laughed shortly, wincing as Damien added a second finger. He began to scissor him generously, adding more lube to help the process. "S-Sorry," He breathed. Pip dragged his fingers down Damien's front, tracing the outlines of his defined chest. "Hurry, Damien!" He whined, feeling Damien's fingertip brush against his prostate momentarily.
"Hmm?" Damien hummed victoriously, finding the spot again and thrusting his fingers against it. "What was that?"
"A-Aah!" Pip squeaked, head falling back and body arching into the touch. "Oh god; Damien, please—"
He added another finger into the mix, which made Pip shudder in discomfort but the feeling was short ridden as Damien began thrusting his fingers in and out; rubbing hard directly against Pip's spot. Pip cried out, driving his hips down. His erection brushed against Damien's clothed one; causing both men to gasp out in ecstasy. This went on for another minute or two before Damien pulled his fingers out completely, earning a whine from Pip. He quickly moved to the side; yanking Damien's boxers down quickly to reveal the man's throbbing erection, pierced twice under the head.
Pip shuddered in anticipation at the sight. Of all the dicks he's seen—and as a phys. Ed student who changes in the boy's locker room; he's seen a lot—Damien's was by far the nicest. He coated the appendage in lubricant, earning a heavy groan from Damien as he did so, then proceeded to sit on Damien's hips and position himself. The Antichrist looked taken aback at the sudden change in position; but he didn't protest. He laid his hands on Pip's hips, helping the boy as he eased his way down his cock. Pip clenched his teeth as pain momentarily seared through him, but he sat it off for a moment at the base of Damien's erection before he lifted himself back up. The noirette's hands tightened around his waist, apparent that he was using every ounce of self-control in his being not to thrust up into his lover. Damien's face was strained, eyebrows knit in pleasure as Pip rode him slowly.
"How is it, baby?" Damien whispered, leaning forward to give Pip a loving kiss of encouragement. The blond gave a strained breath. "C'mere."
Damien eased Pip off of him slowly, then flipped their positions. He smiled at the boy who was now underneath him, staring up at Damien with curious blue eyes. Damien lifted Pip's legs over his shoulders then pushed back in. Pip's expression contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, thin fingers grasping the bed sheets as if his life depended on it. He waited for a nod of approval before he began to move.
"Harder," Pip breathed into the sheets, body pushing into Damien's thrusts.
"J-Just wait—" Damien huffed. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Harder!" Pip whined, slamming himself against Damien's hips for emphasis. "I-I'm fine, Damien. Now please…"
The Antichrist gave a short chuckle, hands gripping Pip's hips as he complied. He met Pip's thrusts with his own, skin slapping violently together. Both men moaned in sync, features contorting in pleasure as the pace picked up. "By god, Pip…! Fuck!"
Pip cried out, body tensing as Damien slammed hard against his sweet spot. He grasped the sheets for dear life in one hand and frantically jerked himself off with the other. The entire room filled with their grunts and moans, bed creaking in protest as it slammed into the wall with every thrust Damien made.
The Brit was the first to reach his peak, wailing out as he coated himself in ribbons of his own semen. Damien came soon after, low groans contorting into that soft squeak that Pip loved hearing. The Antichrist collapsed on top of him, arms snaking around his waist to pull his lovely Brit tight against himself.
"What was that about?" Damien questioned softly, lifting his head to press a soft kiss to Pip's closed eyelid.
Pip chuckled softly at his comment, still struggling to regain his breath. "Do I need ulterior motives to make this justifiable, Damien? Maybe I just love you that much," Damien's face lit up noticeably, causing Pip to laugh. Pip returned the kiss by pecking the tip of his nose.
"Fine by me," Damien responded, burying his face into his neck.
The two laid in silence for a moment. Pip felt rather gross, so showering was certainly on his list of things to do. He waited until his breathing had returned to normal before he sat up with a stretch. Damien lifted a brow in interest, watching Pip as he stood up.
"And where are you off to, in the nude?" Damien commented slyly, propping himself up on his elbows.
"I left the T.V on."
Fin.
Feedback is always appreciated!
Title comes from the song No More Love Songs by Lacrosse.