"I don't kiss like that just for kissing's sake."
Dean stared at Kent through the unfaltering darkness, nearly unblinking. A lot had happened up to that point- namely he and Kent entering some quasi-romantic relationship -but that wasn't something he had expected to hear. He remained silent as he thought over what Kent said. What did he kiss 'like that' for, then?
Kent could tell that he had puzzled the beatnik; he could read his features in the dim light. He leaned close, slowly, and the leather seat of the car wrinkled under his weight. "I mean," he started, lips parted, "that I want to make love, Dean. I want to see what that's like with... You."
Dean was certain Kent would have said 'with a man' (and his pause suggested he was going to). He stared back at him through narrowing eyes. "I don't know if I want to do that," he said frankly. "With you... And me..."
At that Kent blushed. "Oh. Oh, you think I want to..." A quick laugh escaped him that made Dean jump a tad. "No, Dean, I actually- I want you to lead."
"Me?" Dean's eyes were already wide, but new surprise was present in his voice. He didn't think Kent would be so willing to give up another shred- perhaps the biggest shred -of his masculinity. Then again... Given how Kent had taken being kissed places other than his mouth (moaning, writhing, panting...), this was perhaps just the next step.
Even though the radio was on, crooning sound filtering through it, the pause that followed Dean's outburst felt as awkward as any silence.
"...I understand if you don't want to," Kent whispered. Timidly his fingers picked at the collar of Dean's blue bowling shirt. "We can just keep doing what we've been doing. I won't push you." Even if he had fantasized about this countless times before. Even if-
His stream of nervous thought stopped when Dean kissed him.
It was a gentler kiss than they were usually akin to sharing. Soft and slow. A sweeter way to say yes, even if it had been breathed like the wind. Kent's hands trailed down and pressed against Dean's chest. A low hum rose out of him- like a purr. Dean found it adorable.
"How do you want to do this?" he asked. They were both breathing a little harder now. Kent had started undoing every little button of Dean's shirt.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Just do what you think feels right. Let's just... Experiment." A petite smile filtered out the slight look of apprehension that had been on Kent's face. Dean mirrored his expression.
"Okay. Let's experiment." He pulled apart Kent's shirt with a nimble, quick touch. Soon enough they were both bare-chested; the beatnik found himself the more well built of the two. A curious hand pressed against Kent's doughy stomach with a touch of admiration. Kent felt his face heat up. The fact that he had gone to fat had been a note shame for him. But Dean was treating it as something to love.
Then Dean started removing his pants. The button of his slacks was undone; Kent felt as if he should stop the beatnik. Why? Nervousness was bubbling up in his stomach. Or was that something else? Dean tugged the redhead's pants down just enough to expose his underwear- white boxers, cotton cloth straining somewhat against the beginnings of an arousal. Kent's sheepish blush only intensified.
"Sorry," he mumbled. Dean quirked an eyebrow and smiled.
"What are you sorry for?" He was honestly surprised that he was able to elicit such a reaction from anyone, let alone Kent. He pressed his hand against against the subtle erection in Kent's boxers; the redhead gasped. Dean palmed him for a few moments, his touch firm but gentle, and felt Kent turn hard. It was enough to have him aroused, too.
"I want to see it," the beatnik whispered. "Can I?" Kent had to hold back a chuckle. His asking permission was adorable to him.
"Go ahead," he offered. Even then, however, he wasn't quite prepared for being fully exposed. Cotton slipped over skin, exposing him centimeter by centimeter. While the relief of having his erect cock freed was wonderful, Kent felt embarrassed to have Dean looking at him so intently. Embarrassed and yet exhilarated, given the precum that began to bead at his flushed head.
"You can touch me," Kent said quietly. That seemed to be what Dean had been waiting for. His right hand wrapped loosely around Kent's shaft; he gasped and fluttered his eyelids in response. In another slow, deliberate motion, Dean drew his hand up and down, pumping Kent's member. With each successive stroke Kent's reaction grew- from soft gasps to loud, heated moans. His hips, his legs, and his arms all began to tremble. Crescent moons were pressed into the car's leather seat by his nails.
Dean felt nothing short of amazement and desire. He would have never seen this event as something in his future. Him, touching Kent like this, making him writhe and whimper... His lips fell slightly agape and he leaned on the precipice of speaking. Much to Kent's dismay, his right hand, now slick with his precum, stilled.
"Do you... Want me to keep going?" Dean asked. Kent stared at him through half lidded eyes.
"You mean... All the way?" he panted. His lips curved into another smile. "Yes. Please, Dean, I- I'd really like that." Dean nodded slowly, mirroring Kent's expression, and removed his hand. He pulled Kent's pants and boxers down about his knees and spread his thighs- one finger teased the tight ring of muscle between Kent's legs. That earned him another gasp.
"You're too tight," Dean whispered. His blatant words sent a shiver down Kent's spine. "Try to relax."
Somehow, the redhead did manage to relax- and Dean slipped his index finger into him.
"Oh, God," Kent moaned. He pressed back further against the door, angled his hips forwards, and felt Dean's finger press further inside of him him. "G-Give me more. Please."
Dean was scarlet-faced at that point, but he obliged. His left hand gripped one of Kent's thighs before he pressed another finger of his right hand inside. He drew the digits up, and then pressed them back in.
A low groan escaped Kent as his head lolled back. Dean's fingers fucked him for a sold minute, loosening the tight muscle of his entrance and getting him wet with his own precum. Through the fading pain a wonderful sensation began to bloom within him; Kent felt mind-numbingly pleasant.
"D-Dean, fuck, I can't stand it anymore," he breathed. "Please, I need you. I need you." Dean stopped. He felt unsure about proceeding but- he wanted Kent, too. God, how he wanted him. He felt tight, smooth, like velvet against his fingers. He was burning in the most pleasant way. He had to have him. It felt wrong. It felt like crossing a line he shouldn't cross when it came to knowing Kent, to being with Kent. But he had to have him.
Dean removed his fingers (Kent whimpered in protest) to pull his own pants down. His cock was already half-hard without attention, and a few quick strokes had him fully stiff.
Kent found himself staring. That was going inside of him. Dean was going inside of him. A wave of anticipation passed over him, and he felt his entrance quiver.
When Dean braced his hands against his hips Kent felt like screaming. Yes! The head of Dean's cock met his puckered hole gently. As Kent's gaze flashed upwards, Dean's tilted down. They were silent, unmoving, for the tense moment they stared into each other's eyes.
Then Dean slowly began pushing his member inside of Kent.
Inch by inch, Kent felt like he was being split apart. "A-Ahg, oh, fuck, Dean-" Kent wrapped one arm around the beatnik's neck and grit his teeth. Dean's cock was nothing like his fingers- thick, hot, and long all in its own way.
Dean bit his lip as he continued. Kent was almost too tight; it felt as if he were trying to seal him in to permanently make Dean a part of himself. His head hung forwards and he panted as he pressed the last of his member into Kent's vice-like entrance.
They stayed still for a long minute, breathing heavily and relaxing. Feeling the other in ways they never had before. Kent drew in a shaky breath; Dean was in him, he realized. Sheathed deep inside of his heated core, pulsing against the inner most parts of himself. Kent's breathing hitched.
"Y-You're-" he tried to find words with which to speak but had none he could spare.
Kent was thankful Dean decided to kiss him.
There was nothing tame about the kiss, either; it was all tongue, Dean pressing deep into Kent's mouth as his cock pressed deep into his ass. A low moan rose up from Kent- and then Dean began to move.
Slow and gentle. As everything else had been. Dean barely drew his hips back, wanting to stay as deep within Kent as possible. Both of them trembled. The heat, the pressure, the feel of the other was incredible. Kent's fantasies could not do the reality justice; Dean's fears had certainly been assuaged. The sensation of melting into one another was thrown over them like a thick blanket; it drew them closer, Dean bearing his weight down on Kent and Kent pulling Dean as tight as their position would allow. Their kiss broke off, leaving their lips wet, but the sensation persisted.
Kent's slick inner walls tightened around Dean's member each time it thrust shallowly into him. He groaned and grunted as Dean heaved his body forwards; a persistent pressure was hitting a sport within Kent that he had never been aware of. The arm around Dean's neck fell slack, but Kent's polished Oxford shoes pressed further into the leather seat. With each small jolt forwards, Kent's cock jabbed its tip onto his bare doughy stomach, painting his skin sticky.
"O-Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean-" Kent's successive moans drove Dean on. It was hard to hold the position he was in, bearing down as much as he could on the redhead to watch him writhe. With every thrust he gave him the beatnik felt Kent meet it, bucking his hips forwards and tightening his hot core around him. Dean's lips were mostly open to pant and grunt but every now and then he moaned, too.
"Kent," he breathed. "I-I'm close." Blue eyes, bright and wild, flickered up to stare at Dean once again.
"I want it in me," he stammered. "Please. I want a-all of you." Kent shut his eyes tight; he couldn't take it anymore. He felt his balls tense up almost uncomfortably and his cock, although unattended, made a mess of his chest and belly. Milky ropes of his seed splayed over his skin as Kent shouted Dean's name.
That was it for Dean. He gave a few more erratic thrusts before burrowing deep within Kent and climaxing himself. He didn't know how long he was cumming. It didn't matter. Another low moan rose up from Kent in the interim; every shot of Dean's hot seed made him tremble.
They held each other tight after they separated, even in spite of the wet mess running down Kent's legs. (He pointed it out; Dean told in to shush). As they fell asleep, completely nude and raw from their venture, they each knew that it would take something utterly incredible to sever the tie that now bound them together. The stars of the desert sky winked overhead.