Author's Note
My internet was broken again (I wish that I wasn't running on Road Runner...), and so I was delayed until it decided to stop having a brain fart and work...
As I always do and will;
I DON'T OWN THE WWE and I'm NOT here to hurt you!
I hope you enjoy your read!
"You've really got a thing for blonds, don't you, son?"
If only he'd walked in on them five minutes later.
"What were you doing there, huh? Planting flowers?" John Cena Sr. jeered, donning a dark navy robe with striped gray and white pajama pants and a wife-beater shirt; obviously awakened from a good-night's sleep from their noise.
He shone the flashlight he was holding into John's eyes, encouraging John to answer.
"Dad…" John mumbled "I…We…"
"Save it, John, I know what you were doing; anyway, who've we got here?" he nodded towards Jack, who looked back at him like a deer in the headlights.
This was worse than when Christian had found him for sure, forget WWE employees thinking of him as a slut; now John's dad would think of him as a slut.
John pulled out of Jack; stowing his member away, re-zipping his shorts and readjusting his belt while Jack pulled up his own jeans and stared at his bare feet, so humiliated he wished he had just let John count to ten back in Christian's dressing room.
His shoes were next to his discarded shirt, a few feet away.
If only they were on his feet so he could have just grabbed his shirt and ran; he would have even picked up the garage door manually to get out.
"Well? What's his name?" his dad persisted.
"Jack…" John grumbled, averting his eyes; he didn't look nearly as mortified as he should have. Instead it looked like a routing scolding that a parent would give their child, for something as trivial as staying up past their bedtime.
If anything he looked irritated at having to stop to answer to his dad.
"Uh-huh, and does Jack have a surname? Or is he just another one of your flings that you brought to my house so you could show him off before you dumped him?" John Sr. asked, really pushing John's patience with the final question.
"His last name is Swagger, and I don't have flings..." John growled.
"Oh, right, you call them ho's nowadays" his father retorted.
"Don't call Jack that!" he snapped back.
From the looks of things it seemed as though he could go on for hours, replying to his dad's frustrating sayings and his dad would always have a counter that would make him gnash his teeth in anger.
"Anyway, now that you and Blondie here have gone and woke me up, would you mind using your bedroom to fool around?" he sneered, not even bothering to use Jack's first name, even after hearing it twice.
"My bedroom?! It's got a kid-sized bed! I could barely fit in that puny thing when I was seventeen; and I've bulked up a lot since then! How in the world are we both supposed to fit there, huh, dad?!" John exclaimed gesturing wildly in his outrage.
His dad smiled with a raised eyebrow "what? You upset because there's not enough space for you and your little boy-toy to do the acrobatic shit? Try the missionary position, it'll do you some good!" he laughed, slapping his knee.
John was far from laughing, his face was scarlet with rage, but he dare not raise his hands to his father; at least not while Jack was in the room.
You'll get yours, you dick… You'll get yours…
"I know what you're thinkin' John, but I wouldn't do it; Carol's home" he implied haughtily, wagging a finger at John while a sly smile crawled across his face.
Jack looked to John for a hint of who Carol was; John quickly picked up on this and answered the question that Jack was asking himself mentally: "she's my mom"
"That's right, and he won't do anything bad when his momma's around, especially not give his dad a black eye" John's father was relentless in tormenting of his eldest son.
"You know what's funny, Blondie? My other sons have their girlfriends over for spring break except this one; instead he brings over his back-door bitch and decides to have sex with him on the hood of my car! Seems a little coincidental that the faggot is the one who fucks up my stuff, doesn't it? What makes it worse is I have to deal with Carol coming over to visit Sean…"
Clearly John Sr. didn't approve of John being gay.
"Why are you always out to bust my balls?" John asked flatly, he was going for the guilt trip and he was surely going to get it.
John Sr. let out a sigh before backpedaling "alright, I'm sorry… Anyway, let's go, frankly this whole argument is busting my balls…"
John nodded; glad to get off the hook.
The two followed John's dad into the house, which in itself wasn't lit at all, so dark that it was a wonder how John Sr. had managed to fumble his way to the garage and catch them in the act. It was probably lit this way because of the people sleeping, but still, it was so dark even a burglar would turn the lights on because their flashlight wasn't strong enough.
He even had to hold Jack's hand as they slinked through the halls and up the stairs, to make sure he didn't get lost.
Not that this was a bad thing, as Jack was quite the scaredy-cat; what with gripping John's hand tightly whenever John wandered too far away and refusing to let go even when John told him he needed to grab the railing.
"Note to self; take Jack to a horror movie…" he thought to himself smugly.
When they reached the door to his bedroom, they were left with a small rasp of "good-night" and then a shuffling of feet as John's dad walked off.
John wasn't lying when he said his bed was tiny.
It was so petite that Jack alone couldn't fit on it comfortably even if he lay on his side and curled up in a fetal position. And John? Forget about it! His limbs cascaded off of the bed no matter how hard he tried.
What made things worse was the covering of the bed completely took the mood away; a red comforter with blue space-ship detailed sheets. These things hadn't been changed since John was four! At the very least, it had two pillows.
"Well… We could always try the missionary" John insinuated with a small shrug and a happy-go-lucky outlook.
"John, I don't fuck where I sleep, it's a gross habit. I mean, think about it; you get all sticky and sweaty and then… You're going to sleep in that?" Jack protested, finicky as ever.
Damn. John really needed to get off; after his dad's interruption it was all he could think about! And now Jack was throwing a hissy-fit like some prissy little girl because he didn't want to fuck where he slept? Bull-fucking-shit. That wouldn't have flown even if they were in a bigger bed.
Fuck him; John needed it, bad.
"Come on Jack, we'll take a shower right after, I'll clean the sheets, what do you say?" John asked, using all of his charm in hopes of cajoling Jack into a "yes".
"No, John; I don't want to. We're in your parents' house, it's really late, I don't feel like getting myself filthy now, when we tried to have sex your dad came in and I don't want that to-" Jack continued, holding his hands up as a gesture that he'd had enough.
"He's not going to walk in on us now; this is my room!" John argued pointing at the door in emphasis on the word "my".
"John, please, I know you really want this, but not right now, please?" Jack begged, clasping his hands together the way one does when praying.
"Jack, we're going to be sleeping in the same bed naked, you know, so, we might as well; just to relive the tension" John pressed, climbing atop of Jack to plant a kiss on his neck.
Before he could do so, Jack scrambled away, falling to the floor with a "thud".
"I-I'll sleep on the floor!" he suggested with a nervous stutter; John almost had him…
"…On the floor?! Are you for real?!"
"It's not a good idea for us to sleep in the same bed… At night I…" Jack mumbled, drifting off as he was talking.
"At night you what? Look, I don't care if you move around a lot in your sleep, I can deal with that, I move around too-" John coaxed, trying to pull Jack up on the bed with him.
"No it's not that… Um… When I sleep I usually… Say stuff…" Jack finished, blushing slightly.
"It's not the end of the world, everybody makes noise in their sleep; whether they're snorers, people who moan in their sleep or people who make that little wheezing noise like they don't have air in their lungs…" John said, once again throwing out Jack's defense.
"Well, that's just it; it's not just noise with me, I actually say stuff" Jack affirmed.
"So…? Wait, are you serious or are you just trying to… Eh, I don't know; scare me for the heck of it?" John advocated, still working under the "fuck me now" campaign "either way, I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor"
"I really do talk in my sleep" Jack answered "it drives Christian nuts"
"Well, I'm not Christian" John replied, smiling warmly and finally managing to pull Jack onto the bed with him.
They couldn't fit, both of them lying down like this. They were going to fall off; that's what Jack was probably thinking.
"Not on my watch" John thought to himself, pulling Jack into an embrace and refusing to let him go.
Jack gave up, sighing and turning around to sleep; even his sleeping was dainty. He slept with both of his hands tucked under his head and his knees buckled slightly, one on top of another on his side. At least, he did this for a little while.
When he had gotten deep enough into to sleep he shifted so that his back was pressed flush against John's chest and one of his legs hung limply over the bed, inches away from touching the floor.
It didn't bother John none; he only tightened his grip around Jack's body, resting his head on his shoulder before allowing himself to float away to dream-land.
He was dreaming that he, Jack and Chris Jericho were having a three-some; presently Jack and Chris were down on their knees tonguing his balls, both too preoccupied to be making any noise, when a moan sounded out through his dreams. It was Jack's voice.
But the Jack in his dream wasn't saying anything…!
What the…?
He woke up and came to the realization that it was the real Jack who was moaning. He was also currently jamming his hips down against John's raging hard on "oh, fuck me now, you big son of a bitch…"
"Mmm… What made you come around?" John chuckled, aligning his dick with Jack's entrance and then roughly easing his way in, exhaling a contented "ahh…" as he did so; the kind you might mutter when entering a Jacuzzi.
Jack emitted a loud startled yelp and glanced over his shoulder to an equally surprised John who without delay was trying to get him to settle down.
Shit, he was dreaming when he made that noise… Damn it. Fuck.
"John, this is exactly the opposite of what I said!" he hissed, struggling awkwardly against the desire building up inside him, whimpering pathetically while doing so; who was he trying to fool? He wanted it, possibly even worse than John did.
"And now I can't get out…" he whined miserably, letting his head slump down on his pillow in defeat.
"Come on Jack, let's do it, we've wasted so much time already…" John moaned, his hands trailing down Jack's abdomen to rest just a hairs width from his groin "and I know you're not spent, not yet anyway"
"Wait…" Jack swallowed; his mind was still thinking it over, while his body had already agreed.
Jack had to admit, although he tried his hardest not to be; he really was an insatiable little tramp.
He kissed Jack's neck as he thrust inward, hitting his prostate, before being stopped by Jack clenching himself tighter around John.
"Ah! Jesus Christ! Jack, you're going to break my dick off!" John grunted, feeling the circulation in his penis being cut off.
"I asked you to wait, John" Jack replied "… Now, pull out, because if we do it like this we're going to fall off the bed"
Reluctantly, John did as he was told and pulled out when Jack loosened his muscles and allowed John mobility again, then after having to get out of the bed at Jack's request.
Given the space needed, Jack spread his legs to a perfect split on the bed; one that would make Melina jealous.
John watched in awe, his cock pulsing and leaking pre-cum from how aroused he was.
"Damn Jack I didn't know you were so flexible! Oh God, you're making me so fuckin' horny! Holy shit…! Can you put those behind your head too? … Oh, man…!" he wheezed, stroking his manhood with such gusto that it seemed he was about to spray the bed.
"Do you want a cigarette when you're done?" Jack sniggered sarcastically, running two fingers along the inside of his thigh.
"I am going to ride you like a cowboy!" John avowed, joining Jack on the bed and reinserting himself inside of the blond in one eager ramming motion.
Jack groaned, feeling his leg muscles getting a little weary from their current position stretched so far apart.
The monster in John was loose.
He brought his lips to suck at Jack's neck; his teeth were barely grazing Jack's skin at first, then he began to force them down, ever so slowly, applying more and more pressure with each buck of his hips.
"Ah! John, damn it!" he griped in dissent.
Jack was right it was too much… No, it didn't matter! John was the boss now; whether Jack liked it or not.
But, for the sake of finishing without Jack acting irritable later; he unlatched his teeth from the supple skin he was nipping, looking back on it to find that he had caused a large bite-mark to form on his neck.
He smirked down at it; that was his now.
Angling his manhood to hit Jack's prostate with each thrust; he gripped Jack's organ and began to impel him to climaxing.
Jack couldn't handle this, first being stopped mid-release and then being hurled to orgasm moaning out an incoherent nonsense as he did so.
He ejaculated into John's hand, splattering John's stomach and hand before slouching onto John's broad shoulders in exhaustion.
Though Jack had come; John continued to drain him for all he was worth, his length growing softening in his hand.
He was far too into what he was doing to care that Jack had finished; in fact it hadn't even yet registered in his mind that Jack was done.
"Just a little longer… Just a little longer; just last five seconds longer!" he told himself, shutting his eyes in concentration "come on John, keep it together!"
John clenched his jaw shut as his release hit him and he spilled his seed deep inside of Jack, echoing his lovers name, probably waking the neighbors who would later be wondering if it was his dad or one of the Cena siblings whose mate's name was "Jack".
"Oh God…" he panted, pulling out and allowing Jack to readjust his legs.
He held Jack in his arms, settling down to sleep; finally relieved of the sexual tension that he had built up in the garage.
"You're not going to clean this… Are you?" Jack grumbled, already returning to being a nagging yuppie.
"I said I'd clean it and I will… Later…" Not "for now, let's just get some shut eye…"
"You're such a pig…" Jack continued, but he didn't get up; it was too late, he was too tired and to top it all off, he really didn't feel like stalking around John's house in the dead of night to wash the sheets.
He would sleep in their disgusting mess, but by God he would chew John's ear off in the morning.
Hmm… Breakfast at the Cena Household… Fun!