See? Way not an adult.
Summary: Steven was not a picky man, nor was he particularly moral, or patient, but above all - he wasn't picky.
Steven was not a picky man, nor was he particularly moral, or patient, but above all – he wasn’t picky. He was entirely comfortable to take the blonde with the too long face when Jack opted for her brunette friend, who had one of the more spectacular rear ends Steven had ever been privileged to stare at. The blonde was a nice enough girl – not as pretty as her friend, maybe, but nice enough, and he and Jack had done rather well for themselves all told.
But his lack of patience and Jack’s lack of restraint had conspired together against both of their interests, and Steven, not being picky, hadn’t really minded when Jack had dragged him by his jacket into the alley as the girls talked to someone or other on the sidewalk.
“Who the hell has that much to say about shoes?” Jack muttered as he slammed Steven up against the wall. “They cover your feet and keep you from stepping in the goddamned dog shit, that’s it. ”
Steven’s impatient hands made short work of the button and zipper on Jack’s jeans, and he grinned in the dark. “Search me, mate. Can’t think of a thing I’d have to say about shoes.” He was going to say more, something about Jack’s own expensive loafers, but then Jack’s hands were on his skin, and his mouth clicked shut.
“Sick of all that crap anyway,” Jack said, his fingers cold as they reached into Steven’s boxers and grabbed hold of him expertly. “How many times a night do you have to tell someone they look pretty?”
Jack squeezed his dick, started stroking him off roughly, and Steven gasped, “I think you look, fuck!, very pretty.”
“Yeah, thanks, you too, real pretty, can you please get on with it?” Jack said, hips moving restlessly as Steven finally remembered his own hands, trapped between Jack’s boxers and Jack’s hard, heavy cock.
“Can’t leave the ladies waiting too long,” Steven murmured, and Jack grinned again, teeth white, cheeks red and he really was pretty, Steven thought, pushing into Jack’s callused hand again and again.
“Since when,” Jack asked, moving his hand faster and faster, demanding and quick and just the way Steven liked it, “have you been such a gentleman?”
Steven tried to shrug, but then Jack did something – Steven was too drunk to know exactly what – just right, and his eyes rolled back into his head instead. “That, do that again,” Steven said, harsh and low.
“I don’t know, seems to kinda,” Jack pushed his cock against Steven again, “distract you.”
“I will suck you off if you do that again,” Steven gritted out, banging the back of his head against the wall behind him. “I swear to God, mate, I’ll go down on my knees and suck you off.”
Jack laughed against Steven’s ear, so close Steven could smell the tequila on his breath. “You just don’t want me to come on your pants,” he said, so quiet Steven almost didn’t hear him over his own harsh panting. “You’re such a woman.”
Steven grunted, and reached his free hand down to press Jack closer against him. “Case you hadn’t noticed mate,” he managed, “that’s not quite a breast you’ve got there.”
“Thanks for the tip, buddy,” Jack told him, and then he did that thing again, that very, very *right* thing, and he said something else, but Steven didn’t notice because Jack’s hand was busy, and Jack was so good with his hands, bloody genius really. His hands could – oh, his hands could do a lot of marvelous things, and *were* and he wasn’t gentle, or hesitant, like women could be sometimes, but then Jack wasn’t a woman either, and Steven was pretty pleased about that. Steven was pretty pleased about everything Jack was doing with his cold fingers, his cool fast hand.
“Goddamn, Steven, come on already,” Jack said, and when Steven opened his eyes he saw Jack was watching his hand on Steven’s dick, watching Steven fuck his fist. “You’re – shit, man, you must *need* to, so just do it.”
And Jack was right, he did need to come, he needed to come so badly his skin felt too tight, his lungs too small, and when Jack said, “Steven, man, come, okay?” Steven did, biting his lip hard enough that it bled to keep back a scream, curling the fingers of his hand around Jack’s cock as he did. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to shock a hissed, “Shiit, Steven,” out of Jack.
It took Steven a few minutes to start breathing regularly again, and by the time he had, Jack was wiping his hand on Steven’s pants. “Bastard,” he said, and Jack shook his head, grinning again.
“A total woman.”
“Should I say something about your shoes, then?” Steven asked, sliding down the wall, and pulling Jack’s boxers all the way down as Jack braced himself over Steven’s head.
Jack shook his head, red faced and laughing. “No, man, don’t say anything at all.”
“Thought not,” he said, before licking the head of Jack’s cock teasingly until Jack moaned and thrust forward.
“Don’t,” Jack gasped, “fuck around with me right now, I’ve been hard for fucking *years*.”
Lack of restraint suited Jack well, so Steven went to it in earnest, sucking hard, fast, taking in as much as he could and Jack started muttering, “Fuck, Steven, shit – yes –“ over and over and over.
It wasn’t the best blowjob Steven had ever given, hell it wasn’t even the best blowjob he’d ever given Jack, but it seemed to be enough, because it didn’t take much more to make Jack start pumping harder and faster into his mouth, just a firm squeeze at the base of his cock, a thumb pressed right against his sweet spot, and Jack was coming in Steven’s mouth. Arms shaking over Steven’s head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, jerking and coming for a damned long time and Steven kept going until it was over before he sat back on his heels and wiped a hand across his mouth.
He slumped against the wall, and above him, Jack caught his breath slowly.
“Years, eh?” he asked, and Jack cracked one eye open.
“You said you’d been hard for years. Sounds like a medical problem. Teddy swears by acupuncture, you know,” he told Jack. “Though, needles somewhere like that, I don’t know –”
“If you, or Teddy’s friend, or anyone comes near me with a needle,” Jack gasped, “I will personally julienne your balls.”
“I’m serious,” Jack said, eyeing Steven. “I will take a knife and I will –”
Steven held up both hands. “I believe you! I believe you, you sod!”
Jack nodded once, and tugged his jacket into place. “Good. Just so we’re clear.” He poked a head around the corner, and then grinned wolfishly over his shoulder at Steven. “They didn’t go anywhere. You still want the blonde?”
Steven grinned back. “I’m not picky.”
ETA: Sometimes I just want to gut LJ and make ceviche out of it. Now is one of those times.