Let me just say, in my defence, that there will be some explicit goings about in this chapter (although, why does anyone read fanfiction if not for the frickle-frackle?) in a makeshift attempt to apologize to anyone who has been waiting for my next chapter. Over the Summer there was life business making writing hard, and just two A.P. classes have been stifling me and my creative writing drive, which has now been reignited by deep set guilt and a love towards being a shippy female. I'm not in love with the chapter, and I'm pretty bad at writing the hot sex in my own opinion, but I hope you like it! Just know that no matter how bad this chapter may be, that it could never reflect how bad I feel about taking so long to write it. Thanks for reading, darlings! o w o
Chapter 3:
Your eyes followed John's dad as he'd walked away, a sort of dry feeling suddenly becoming a problem on the inside of your mouth as you licked your lips in a nervous action. 'Praise the lord' in their town had never been synonymous with 'make out with my son even though I consider your family scummy', and it only added to the ball of tension that wrapped around your chest lazily, like it'd strangle you slowly and take you fighting the whole way down.
Then again, you had always liked John's arms better, curled around your midsection once as soon as the two of you had reached the cash register in the back of the store, away from prying eyes. His own book bag had already been dumped onto the ground, some sort of miracle keeping the messy slew of papers from rushing out of the bag like a homework monster eager to rear it's disorganized head. Speaking of heads, there was suddenly a surplus of Egbert in your facial region, and you weren't complaining as your lips gently mashed into his, sort of desperate and careful all at once.
You couldn't help but notice that he hadn't really outgrown that shyness you two had first had, when he was still a good five inches shorter than you and reaching up to tangle the both of you in a messy but very wanted kiss. Summer time had done it's magic, or perhaps puberty had, but experience was what really got Dave- they were no longer clumsy or frantic, in a way the gentle pulse of electricity between them was painfully expressive as he brought his hands up to rest them around the other's shoulders. Even stifling fathers couldn't dim what they felt, as if it hadn't taken long enough to not feel wrong in the first place due to upbringing (or at least, that's what he always got from John when they were joined in a hotter embrace, sometimes tears streaking a visage too beautiful for Dave to not get, and for lack of better wording, extremely pissed off.)
Those blue eyes opened once more, not minding that his glasses had clacked against dark shades when he'd joined them, letting them be strong for each other in the short moment. His smile was shockingly brilliant, almost a grin but a little too honest for that, and you can't help but pipe up. "Didn't know you wanted the d so bad, jackass, you could've let a girl get prettied up before you started manhandling her. Nary a moment could be found for me to refresh my powder or rogue my cheeks, oh! How dry my lips must seem against yours!"
John's snort was downright unattractive, his nose wrinkling as his lips quirked up in this sneer like smile, but you'd be damned if it wasn't precious. "You've been spending too much time with Rose," he murmured noncommittally, although you could see the way the word nary had only just settled into his mind and processed, like you'd stirred up rocks in a glass and watched as they settled to the bottom. His lips were on yours again in a moment and you didn't have it in you to disclaim his statement or pull away in general, because you wanted that press of heat running down your back and clouding up your head just a bit more than he did. One hand crept up and dumped your glasses in the general direction of book bag, and you were pleased to find that it'd been you- and the lack of clattering meant they'd found their goal. His own pair were whipped off with less success, not that either of you cared too much.
Your lips had met once more, staying locked and tame for a bit, his muscled arms (when had that happened?) drawing your waist closer as you tried not to scrunch your toes under your sneakers, you own grip on him tightening just a bit. His tongue pressed into the kiss, flickering out from under those lips that you craved all over, and you gladly allowed it entrance, feeling his fingers curling around your shirt fractionally as his mouth overlapped yours. A sigh, or maybe it was just a breathy exhale, slipped out of your throat as he ran the slick appendage against your palette, your own tongue finally coming to life and dancing hotly against his. Pressing against him further, you felt him turning, and you couldn't do much better than comply, not parting the two of you as your rear found the counter, boosting yourself up to have him lean into you with his deliciously welcoming warmth.
When you pulled away from him, those deep blue eyes reminded you of an ocean you hadn't ever seen, and you wondered if you'd ever need to with an expanse standing there in front of you. He stared up at you for a few seconds, and you met his gaze solidly, a part of you hoping that you didn't look needy, a smaller portion of yourself wishing that you looked like a mess. John, on the other hand, was just drinking in your features from behind those dark eyelashes, his own cheeks reddened ever so slightly, because yeah, he wanted this too. Your voice was about to rise up as he kept staring, but you knew and loved it. It was still him admiring you, like he could etch your blondish features into his mind, when heavy steps echoed down the stair way- because your brother had never really come downstairs after John's dad, had he?
You didn't get a chance to think on it as John sort of reeled back, stumbling a bit as his uncoordinated hands groped at the ground, finding his glasses faster than you thought a boy who was supposedly blind as hell could. A laugh had already formed on your lips as his face colored in honest embarrassment, but a smuppet's ass soon found your own smile, which hadn't lasted long. In fact, it'd turned down, into a sort of screech as you leapt up, flinging the felt from yourself like it was warmer than the parking lot outside under the scrutiny of the sun by midday. Now Bro was the only one laughing, the sound raspy and irritating because that wasn't funny in any sense of the word, and you were a pretty funny dude in general. John seemed to have caught up, and he gave a light hearted chuckle to try and play off his shame at being caught 'elbow deep in the Strider cookie jaw.'
The man's typical outdoor clothes was on, and he didn't offer much more than a stubbly sort of smile and a mock salute, quickly saying, "Gonna head out and do some work at the greenhouse down by Harley's, I'll be out for the night. Left like forty bucks to go waste on food. Don't miss me too much." His wink and snarky grin only made you stumble over your words all over again, cutting off your incessant stream of verbal eloquence, but you hurried to catch up, and called a low jab as he began leaving once more, "Don't have too much time planting your seeds with ol' man Harley, Bro! We all know how the swoon worthy green of his eyes just inspire you to get busy with the dirty work." The man laugh was a bit rougher, an honest one that sounded lower and more gravelly, not taunting anymore. "Will do," he nodded. His effortlessly windswept hair looking disgruntled, but not matted down by a typical hat as he left, the edge of those stupid looking anime shades practically sharpened, and there was still that warm spread of affection for your asshole of an older sibling.
When you turned your attention to John you'd found your book bags slung across both of his shoulders, your shades held in his hand like a prize as he grinned at you goofily, his expression animated and far too happy.
"I like you brother, Dave. So cool with those cartoon shades, hah," he commented, kicking at the smuppet across the floor. You didn't miss it, and let out a huff. "Yeah, yeah, now let's get back to who can freak Davey the most tonight, coming up next: Rose Lalonde and her sinister spirits! Will she spook the pants right off of him? Stay tuned to find out!" John had shuffled around as you'd spoken, retrieving both of your carriers in one motion. The bags moved on his back awkwardly as he pushed them over the counter, knowing that it was better to have them out of sight to create an illusion of tidied up. You knew he was honestly too lazy to drag them up the stairs when there was a better things for his arms to be doing- that is, pressing you against the doorway up the first and second step, just balanced between the height difference that'd be created as his lips met yours in a now searing mix, blue eyes open and hungry like a-
You were cut off from your little day dream as those welcome arms wrapped around your waist again, pulling you closer and prompting you to wrap your legs around him, his mind having been on the same thing, because his kiss was just as insistent as you'd wanted it to be, his tongue instantly in your mouth, prompting a groan from you as fieriness began pooling in your lower stomach on cue, the match struck once more. Teeth met teeth as you'd tried to gain some dominance, letting the kiss become messy, sloppy. You pushed against each other heatedly in a pointless power struggle, and every small shove from him, every tightened grip at your hips served to drive you a little closer crazier for him. The hum of slight appreciation he'd gotten as your fingers had flexed against his shoulders assured you that it wasn't one way.
He'd twisted his head away from yours, although the slight loss of breath wasn't worth the loss of pressure, and he was soon amending that by tipping his face over to your side, shaking himself to remove his glasses hands-free. Your eyebrows scrunched together slightly in a mixture of 'what-the-hell-John' and a 'way to kill the mood' expression, but his lips were on yours in a moment's notice and you couldn't remember what you'd been thinking about. You own eyes finally flutter shut as you feel his hands trailing upwards to push your shirt up a bit, feeling the slightly flexed muscles across your stomach, his sturdy hands running across your sides and trailing down, teasing above your waistline as more heat gathered there. The next time his voice rose up, it was thick and spreading these amazing sort of tingles down your back, sureness in his tone as he stated, "Here."
You gave him a look, one that trailed out past the crowd of plants that blocked them from plain sight if they didn't move too much, and you reflected, "Here?" Still, you were getting up, pushing him away as best you could to go around the counter. Like the shameless breed of person he was, John was already tugging off his shirt, his other hand grinding into his own growing problem from over his black jeans, another wave of relief forming on his mouth as some of the tension melted away at being touched. Your search was short, because your brother always had a few bottles of lubricant stored around the house, something that you'd grudgingly learned wasn't for show or irony. Now you didn't care, because you were tossing it to him and tugging at your own shirt, the slightly golden tan of your arms pulling the article of fabric over your head to reveal an evenly toned and proud body, strong and firm muscles under your exposed skin. You hadn't heard him settling the bottle down on the counter, but the thought put a shiver down your spine in anticipation.
John's eyes were adoring and ravenous all at once, and his hand had come up from the slight bulge in his pants, so you took the opportunity to look him over and lick your lips once more for good measure as you went around the obstacle between you two. A warm cloud of heat settled over your mind as his hands went down first, unbuttoning your bothersome jeans while you kissed him, simply because he was John- he was that slightly minty, salty tasting boy. His skin carried a slight coolness, and the earthy smell of the flowers and plants only seemed to heighten his touch as you helped to squirm out of your own pants, fighting off your shoes and jeans until you were standing in your boxers. His searing caresses lay across your chest, finding and tweaking your nipples.
Your own fingers hand found their way around his waist once more as he leaned in, pressing kisses and light nips along your neck, making sure to scrape his teeth against the sensitive spots just under your jaw and along your shoulder, gaining a hum of appreciation that melted into a soft groan as he left a trail of little red marks, latching onto one of the pert nubs on your chest. John's teeth teased the skin while his tongue flicked at it, the movements leaving one side raw while his fingered didn't let up from the other. His other hand was resting against your back as he leaned forward to help boost you up, but you soon found yourself up on the counter again, this time of your own accord.
He pulled off of you with a thin trail of saliva following his rosy lips, and it took real self constraint to not harshly capture him in another lip lock again as you leaned forward, steadying his midsection with supportive hands while he fought at his own sneakers, his own black jeans not putting up as much of a fight as they gathered at the ground, kicked aside and forgotten like the rest of the world. With only thin layers of fabric between the two semi's that both of you had, the dark haired boy practically smirked into the reignited kiss as he brought your hips forward, his waist just reaching the counter, allowing him to press against you, creating a delicious friction that only lit everything up more.
The last bit of clothing between the two of you was lost, a noisy groan escaping you as the coolness of the release from the confining boxers was reheated, his hand wrapping around the two of you with thankfully minimal fumbling, pumping your lengths in time. It only took a few stroke of his hand for you to be worked up again, your cock throbbing under his touch as an array of low gasps and sounds slipped past both of your mouths, your hips rolling up in time to his touches. His own body tilted forward, unrestrained, rocking against you as well, his slight buck teeth pulled under those tempting lips like he couldn't hold himself back any more than you could.
Your half-lidded eyes took all this in through that haze, and you were leaning in, kissing those noises into his mouth because they were yours for taking, the connection hotter and clumsier than before, not that you minded. His hand moved fractionally faster, and both of your pitches hitched up, a few strands of your pale hair sticking to your forehead as sweat was built up, tilting your head to the side to stutter out his name in a moan before you would both lose the nerve to do this right.
He seemed to understand what you were trying to say well enough, because his hand was soon groping at the counter, his other one travelling down your lower back to cup at your ass, the almost sticky warmth of the counter that you'd created being released as his hand spread and pulled at the skin, not forcibly, but appreciatively- like an admirer.
His eyes were a vulnerable sort of read, and you're sure your own pair was as well as you tilted back a bit, the head of your length already beaded with pre-cum as you offered yourself to him, waiting for his fingers. Your eyes automatically closed as you felt the first one push into you, trying to remind yourself to not clench up instinctively, despite the strange feeling. John's other hand found your cock once more, running his hands up the underside slowly and pressing his fingers just under the head, distracting your from the slight discomfort. There was no resistance as his seconds finger pushed into you, and you were thankful for having done this enough times to resist the way your body wanted to close up against him.
His fingers stretched and probed inside of you, those digits causing another shudder to run down your spine and make your length twitch as he hooked them in just the right spot, finding that fucking fantastic place inside of you that sent a wave of pleasure through your whole body. The moan that'd came out of your throat seemed to egg him on, and he added a third finger, and you could sort of make the way his body trembled in anticipation, or maybe that was just your own vision as he kept hitting that spot inside of you with three fingers, beginning to drive you of the edge.
Whining as his fingers pulled out like a needy animal in heat, almost like that was his thanks for neglecting his own member in place of touching your own cock, which was now left alone as well in favor of helping your legs around his back, it was a dual effort as you sunk down on him, his sigh low and gritty and unbelievably sexy. His self-restraint was lower than ever, but his thrusts were shallow, short movements of his hips that were slow and far paced, as you grew accustomed to the feeling.
Realizing the opportunity, your hand swatted at the one that lie across your waist, quickly gaining your help as you panted, "Flip." Steadying hands moved you, rotating around him and feeling filled up by his deliciously warm body as you spread yourself across the counter, your chest against the skin warmed smoothness. John took it as his cue to begin moving, and he let out another pant- this time your name as he began thrusting in at a relatively steady pace.
His hips quirked up, and your returned pants and moans spiked in height as your vision blurred over, every well aimed thrust igniting lights behind your eyes and making your cock pulse in response, already so on edge. The noises only turned you on more, making you impossibly hard as you kept groaning out his name, mingling it with broken begging noises, pants, and swears.
"J-John, john, pleaseharder, fuck mejohngofaster," it was pouring out of your mouth in a slur, every pounding heartbeat drown out by the feeling of his hips complying, slamming into you with more gusto as your words worked on a number on his body. His own voice was a chant, your name over and over again as he reached forward, his hand wrapping around your attentive cock to move it in time almost sharply to the fast pace he'd picked up, and you felt every well aimed slam push you into the counter, only making your noises rise in volume and become more heated. He seemed to be the same, because soon his set pace was erratic, his piano playing fingers tightening just a bit around you as you both came almost entirely simultaneously, his own release triggering your own, and then you were riding out the moment.
It was only after there was a warm liquid down the cleft of your butt and your thighs that you gratefully realized he'd pulled out, leaving you with reasonable (if not slightly sore) mobility instead of making yourself hard as a bitch to clean. You both just remained there for a few moments, your body remaining leaned over the counter, panting as you tried to slow down your racing beat, having come off the euphoric high, also taking note of the way your arms had been strangely positioned and curled into fists, a note of achiness in them now that they'd been moved once more. The emptiness from inside of you wasn't upsetting or terribly missed, because he flopped onto you, careful to not press all of his weight there as you moved up to avoid pushing you both down, wrapping his arms around your upper stomach and resting his head on your shoulder. Even if your back felt a little awkward, his lips found your neck again, just laying a gentle kiss there and you mentally decided to manage for a few seconds more.
You were also ignoring the way your were quite literally butt hurt from the way his leg's had been slapping against you, from the way your knees had bumped the counter a few times and might've been scraped. All the little aches that you hadn't quite noticed were forgotten as he whispered to you in a voice that was so unadulterated with honesty that you knew you wouldn't have dared to not respond in the same way.
"I love you, Dave."
"I love you too."