Chapter 4 - Chaqueta / Jacket
Chaqueta / Jacket
When they finally broke apart, panting, Dylan leaned his forehead against Ashton's shoulder.
"Told you," he whispered, his voice husky.
And yeah, alright – so he was strangely unwilling to let the moment end yet. Still, that didn't mean he could just allow this asshole’s foolishness to slide. He might start getting up in his head about it all again, and then where would Dylan be?
"I'm not," Ashton panted, sounding adorably wrecked. "Not like… you."
"Awesome at kissing? I know, I'm pretty great," Dylan taunted him, licking his tingling lips. "But hey — don't sell yourself short, fresa; you ain't that bad. In fact, it might be the one thing you don't suck at."
"Screw you," Ashton huffed.
"Kiss me like that again, and maybe we'll see."
Ashton shuddered. "I'm not... gay."
"Of course not," Dylan smirked as he slid his hand rough and slow down the length of Ashton's inner thigh; feeling the shape and size of him, the way he grew at Dylan's touch, damn.
"Your cock's just rock hard because of all the women dancing naked up here in the warm tropical breezes of mid-December.
Nothing like the bracing chill of winter to get a man going, is there? "
"I'm not into guys," Ashton repeated, his hips rocking shallow mini-thrusts into Dylan's hand as he rubbed Ashton's cock through his jeans. "It doesn't matter how good it feels, or – or how good you look, or — "
"Or?" Dylan prompted, tugging wider the collar of Ashton's stupid polo shirt so he could suck a kiss into the skin hidden there.
"Or… or what I want to do with you," Ashton whispered, whimpered, whined as Dylan laid into him with teeth and tongue, before mouthing up the column of that gorgeous neck.
"What do you want to do with me, Ashton?" Dylan purred between kisses, intrigued despite himself as he cupped Ashton through his pants. "You wanna choke me with this monster? Make me swallow every inch of this fat cock of yours, until I'm stuffed so full of you I can't remember my own name?"
Ashton's hips jerked, his body shuddering as he groaned in answer.
"What if I said I want you to fuck me? Bend me over and put me in my place?" Dylan asked him, pressing hard against Ashton’s cock. "What if I told you to pound my ass until I can't walk?"
Ashton let out a noise that sounded halfway between a growl and a plea, his hips rocking forward harder into Dylan's palm.
His hand reached for Dylan's jaw; cupping his face and urging Dylan up, ducking his head as if Ashton wanted to claim Dylan's mouth.
As if Ashton thought he'd be the one to control how this was going to go.
Ha. So cute, strawberry. But nah, don't think so.
"I'd be so tight and hot and slick for you. You'd love it," Dylan promised as he bit up Ashton’s neck. "And I'll make all these gorgeous little noises for you. Just for you, Ashton. Only for you. And when you've filled me with your cum, d'you know what I'll do?"
"W-what?"
"I'll return the favor, Ashton. I'll make you sit on my cock, ride me until your legs are like jelly and your throat is hoarse from howling," Dylan promised him, his fingers finding the button of Ashton's jeans and popping it open with the ease of experience.
"Until you are just completely ruined for anyone else but me, as I make you come and come and come… "
Ashton's "Oh" at that was so soft, as if it were a secret he hadn't meant to let escape. It made Dylan smile to hear it, one more piece of the puzzle tucked away for safekeeping.
"Do you want that?" Dylan asked him, curiosity eating him up at what Ashton would be into. "Or would you rather be on your back, clutching your own legs to your chest for me like a pretty little doll as I sink into you; begging me to show your ass how a man takes a big, thick, cock?"
Ashton was panting, heavy and harsh as he mouthed at Dylan's skull down to the curve of his ear, breath warm along the shell.
"How much of me do you think you could manage, Ashton?
" Dylan murmured, unable to keep from pressing, from ferreting out every crack and edge that made up this man's shape.
"How many times do you think I could make you come?
I bet I could make you last all night, you know.
You wanna find out? You gonna let me try? "
"I can't," Ashton choked. "I can't."
"You could," Dylan urged, hand frozen on Ashton's zipper; waiting, waiting. "There's nothing stopping you but you, Ashton. I promise. It feels good. Really fucking good. Like learning what sex is all over again. And I'd take such good care of you Ashton. I swear I would. Just gotta tell me how."
Ashton moaned, a wretched, choked-off little thing; low and deep, as if it had been dredged up from his toes.
With a sigh, Dylan dropped his hand from Ashton's pants, stepping —
"Wait!" Ashton hissed, hands fisting in Dylan's shirt, keeping him close. "I — I want… "
"Forget want. What do you need, Ashton?" Dylan murmured, holding very, very still. Speared by the storm he could see swirling in Ashton's gaze; need and want and worry and fear all chasing each other round and round.
"You," Ashton whispered, so low it was barely a sound.
Dylan swallowed hard, not moving an inch.
"You sure?" he asked softly.
"Y-yeah," Ashton said. "I — I need…"
He pressed his lips tight, frustrated; as if he couldn't even bring himself to say it.
Thinking fast, Dylan made a decision.
"You need a safe word," he supplied, filling in Ashton's blanks.
"What?" Ashton's eyes went hilariously wide. "As in — Up here? You can't tie me up!"
"Oh, don't tempt me, fresa. I might take it as a challenge," Dylan chuckled.
"Safe word isn't about kink, it's about control.
And you seem like a guy in desperate need of some control right now.
So I'm going to let you have it; just a little, don't let it go to your head.
But you give me a word. And when I hear it, this all shuts down, understand?
You can shut it down — at any time, for any reason. "
"It's… I'm fine," Ashton said, shaking his head, and uh, no? That was not going to work.
"But I'm not," Dylan told him. "You've obviously got something you're struggling against. That's alright, but it's not my problem.
What is my problem is all these can'ts, won'ts, don'ts — anything that sounds like a no or stop?
I'm the kind of guy that likes to be all in, and ?Ay Dios mío!
but there's so much I'd love to do to your bobo little ass.
It kills the mood for me, not being able to tell if you're serious.
So: pick a serious word. One you'll remember, and won't accidentally shout out while I'm busy blowing your mind. "
"Uh…byline?"
"Alright, byline it is. Mine's Beethoven."
"Beethoven? Why?"
"Who's gonna say Beethoven during sex?" Dylan shrugged. "Safe words don't have to come with a story. In fact, it's probably better if they don't. The point is, I say it, you have to stop — right?"
"Sure, I guess…"
"No guessing," Dylan warned him. "This is about being clear. So?"
"You say Beethoven, I stop," Ashton repeated. "Got it. So, uh… what now? Because I — I don't think I'm, um… that I'm ready for all the things you… uh, said."
"Mmm, me neither," Dylan murmured, watching Ashton carefully as he found the zipper to Ashton's pants again, slowly sliding it down. "Want you in a bed, for one. If I'm taking your cock, I believe I'd like to ride you. If you're taking me, then I'd want to take my time."
He shoved his hand inside Ashton's open fly, thrilling at Ashton's soft gasp, the little thrusts, the way he gripped and kneaded at Dylan's shoulders as if he couldn't figure out what to do with his hands.
And oh, the warmth and firmness of him as Dylan palmed Ashton's cock through the thin cotton of his briefs?
Gently, gently now. Dylan didn't want to risk bruising his strawberry, to scare him off again.
"Shouldn't rush it, your first time,” Dylan told him, dragging the backs of his knuckles along Ashton’s shaft.
“Take a few weeks, train you up on some toys…
Do it right, y'know? Have you so wound up and needy, begging me to fill you up with cock.
But I wouldn't, not until you’re nice and ready.
Even then, I'd go slow with you, Ashton.
Be so careful, make it good. Gotta have you coming back to me, just me. "
And God — the way he was holding onto Dylan so tightly now, the sounds Ashton was making? That was damn near a sob, Dylan was sure of it.
Oh.
"They don't treat you right, do they?" Dylan murmured, taking a guess. "Whoever you've been seeing; they don't give you what you need. But I will. You hear me? I'll give you everything and more. I'll take care of you, Ashton; I will."
Slipping his hand under the elastic waistband of Ashton's briefs, Dylan wrapped his fingers around Ashton's cock; thrilling at the girth and heft of it, the length. Oh, this fool was full of surprises, wasn't he?
It wasn't just that Dylan knew now what Ashton was packing, either — although if he couldn't get Ashton to fuck him with this beast, it really would be a waste of a good dick.
No, there was something about the way Ashton curled into him, that thread of need slipping beneath his soft panting.
Dylan had been wanted, desired, and just plain fucked loads of times.
No one had ever needed him.
On God, Dylan thought he'd just been talking earlier. Spouting whatever nonsense he felt would calm Ashton down, get him in the mood. It’s what Dylan did, though he’d been told off for it more than once; running his mouth, controlling the show.
But Ashton was hanging onto Dylan’s every word.
Each little gasp and moan egging him on, stoking the fire until it was roaring away inside his chest; yearning, craving, demanding.
Building into something that would not be satisfied until he’d made those words as real and true as Ashton's cock in his hand was now.
Ashton buried his face in Dylan's neck. "What if someone comes up here?" he panted against Dylan's skin.
"They won't," Dylan assured him; his thumb stroking over the crown of Ashton’s cock, spreading the pre-cum there. "It's eight thirty at night on a Friday. Everyone's at the game, or partying. No one’s ever up here this late. It's just you and me, Ashton. Just us."
"But — "
"Trust me. If someone opens the door at the bottom of the stairwell, we'll hear it echoing all the way to the top and have time to hide. They'll think we're up here smoking or something. Unless… You want to stop?"
Ashton shook his head no.
"Words, Ashton. Use your words like a big boy."
Ashton huffed a laugh. "Fuck you."
"Man, I am trying," Dylan told him earnestly. "But you gotta work with me here, right?"
"I…don't want to stop," Ashton said, his palm cupping Dylan's jaw, thumb brushing just under Dylan's eye, and…
Dylan ducked away from his hand, unable to deal with the gentleness in Ashton’s touch right then. That way lay danger and feelings and heartache; Dylan did not have time for all that. He cleared his throat roughly. "Keep going then?"
Hesitantly, Ashton nodded, watching Dylan intently. He didn't try that hearts and flowers lovers shit again though, and that was good enough.
"Alright," Dylan considered their options. "You like my hand, or want me to blow you and stuff?"
"Oh holy fuck." A wide-eyed Ashton gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Um. Would you?"
Dylan grinned, already sinking to his knees and enjoying the way it made Ashton's eyes go even bigger.
"Are you kidding? Just look at this cock.
I'll bet you taste so good," Dylan told him; trying to find a spot where the least amount of gravel could stab into his shins — but eh, he'd had worse — and tugging a stunned Ashton's pants down to his knees.
"You're big enough to wreck my throat, make it ache for days.
Maybe I'll even let you. But you'll be good and hold still for me until I say, won't you? "
"Yeah," Ashton moaned as Dylan took hold of Ashton's cock again. “What’s uh, mmm. What’s ‘stuff’?”
“Hmm?”
“You s-said ‘blow you and stuff'… W-what’s that mean?"
Dylan licked his lips. “You tell me,” he said; Ashton’s hands coming up to slide through the cropped buzz cut at the sides of Dylan's skull, and —
"Don't," Dylan warned sharply, and Ashton's entire body froze.
Good strawberry.
"I don't like having my hair played with," Dylan told him. "Grip my shoulders and brace against me instead."
And oh, the way Ashton’s cock hardened in Dylan's hand at that? The speed at which he, without questioning, simply obeyed?
Oh God in heaven, this was what Dylan lived for; some big bad hombre showed he ain't the boss after all, ready and begging for Dylan to take control.