Chapter 5 - Coger / Catch
Coger / Catch
"Be still for me," Dylan whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Ashton's leaking cock, then licked his lips. Tenderly, he tongued at the crown, swirling around and over the slit before taking the entire head into his mouth.
"Ohhhhh," Ashton sighed, his head dropping as Dylan sucked him gently.
Dylan's own cock ached, and he reached down to press his palm hard against it, rubbing himself through his jeans as he worked.
Above him, Ashton moaned louder as Dylan began to get into it.
Taking his cock deeper until he was bobbing up and down, he let himself just drool along Ashton's delicious length, enjoying every inch he could get.
What he couldn't fit in his mouth Dylan worked with his hand; Ashton's cock so hard and heavy and alive in his palm.
Forget that stupid game with the closets — this was Dylan’s idea of heaven.
It was hot as fuck sucking any guy's cock, but the way Ashton's hands clutched at Dylan, holding on for dear life?
It didn't matter that Ashton said he was straight.
His cock was as hard as his panting. All those sounds he was making, that thready little whine he made when he was moaning Dylan's name?
Fucking irresistible.
"I'm gonna— " Ashton gasped.
Dylan pulled off him, hand slowing until it was little more than a harsh grip.
"Oh hell no, mi fresa," he growled as he eyed Ashton warningly, ignoring the rasp in his own voice. "I'm just getting started with you."
Licking his lips, Ashton's throat bobbed as he watched Dylan.
Ah, you like that, huh?
"Spread your legs," Dylan ordered.
Ashton frowned.
"Do you trust me?" Dylan asked him.
Risky, he knew. Ashton had no real reason to trust him. And yet — though he hesitated a moment — Ashton did as Dylan instructed; planting his feet as wide as the pants bunched at his knees would allow.
"W-what are you going to do?" Ashton asked, his voice shaky.
"Whatever I like," Dylan informed him, his own voice rough with desire; stoked even higher at such a sign of Ashton's willingness, his obedience. "Unless you use your safe word. Remember what it is?"
"Y-yes," Ashton nodded slowly; his eyes wild, his body trembling.
"Good. Now relax." Taking Ashton back into his mouth, Dylan absently wondered if he'd use it.
How far was he willing to go? How far would he let Dylan press? Dylan was burning up with the need to find out.
Smoothing his hand up the inside of Ashton's thigh, soft hair slid under Dylan's palm as he sought his goal.
Ashton gasped, fingers flexing on Dylan's shoulders as he lightly cupped and toyed with Ashton's balls, but that was only the start.
Back, back, back behind them he moved. Slowly, giving Ashton time to tap out if he needed.
Keeping everything nice and gentle, Dylan sucked and teased at Ashton's cock; just enough to distract, to keep him suspended in anticipation — instead of falling into anxiety, overthinking it all again.
Hardly had Dylan slid his knuckle between Ashton's thighs did the man above him gasp, a sound that quickly turned into a delightfully high-pitched whimper as Dylan began to stroke his perineum with purpose.
"Feel that?" he whispered, catching sight of Ashton's furious nod from the corner of his eye. "That's your prostate. You ever had anyone play with it before?"
"Nnnnn—!" was Ashton's answer as Dylan returned to his business, smiling around Aston's cock as he worked his strawberry over with mouth and hand and tongue.
And holy mother of God, the sounds this man could make — oh. Each moan, each gasp, each little ragged whine? It was sweet, sweet music to Dylan's ears.
"Dylan, p-please," Ashton panted.
Dylan looked up. Ashton was flushed and sweating, his cock rock hard, his belly trembling.
Shame he was always wearing those stupid polo shirts of his.
Like this, he was a sight, positively made to be worshiped.
Long and lithe, Ashton was carved like a runner.
Not always Dylan’s thing, but right now it was working for him, especially with the way Ashton kept flexing as he begged Dylan for more.
"Please what?" Dylan asked, grinning, not letting up on Ashton even an inch.
"You know what," Ashton groaned, shifting his legs wider oh-so-invitingly.
"Mmm. ?Cómo dices? No te escuché,“ Dylan teased, as if he wasn’t listening intently to Ashton’s every sound.
"J-just do it," Ashton growled, wriggling his hips back as if he would try impaling himself onto Dylan's fingers. "L-like you said. Please. Please."
Dylan grinned and checked his nails, spitting on his finger before sliding it up, up, up and around Ashton's hole.
Ashton groaned, pressing back.
"You sure?"
Ashton nodded. "Yes. God, please."
Spitting on his finger again for good measure, Dylan slowly — so slowly, watching Ashton's face the whole time — pressed past Ashton's rim, mesmerized by the way Ashton's body trembled and clenched as Dylan pushed deeper inside.
"You look so fucking sexy right now," Dylan told him, pulling out and then back in, gently testing his strawberry.
Ashton whined, his hips thrusting in search of something to really fuck, and Dylan cursed not having any lube on him to give Ashton more than this.
Next time. Next time. Oh dear God, please let there be a next time.
"Relax for me, Papi," Dylan whispered, working Ashton open with what he had, teasing the tight band of muscle and teaching it what to expect. "How's it feel?"
"Feels good," Ashton said, his voice strained. "Nice, I guess. But I don't get what the buzz is about."
"Hold on," Dylan warned, pushing his way a little deeper inside, twisting his fingers to find the edge of Ashton's prostate…
"Guh!" Ashton gasped, his entire body spasming over Dylan so fast he wasn't sure if Ashton was about to fall and break Dylan's hand in the process. "W-wha…?"
But Dylan just laughed. "Buzz, buzz, mi bobocito."
And then he did it again.
"This feel good?" Dylan asked innocently. Though, really, Ashton's howling had already given him his answer.
"Y-yeah," Ashton whimpered, his body quivering as Dylan stroked his sweet spot.
"What about this?" Dylan lowered his head to suck and tongue and lick at Ashton's balls as he continued to work him from the inside with his finger.
"Fucking hell," Ashton cried, his hips practically vibrating in tiny thrusts, as if unable to decide between Dylan's hand and mouth. "Dylan! S-stop, I'm gonna come."
"That's the idea, mi bobocito. You’re going to come just like this; with me in you and around you, unable to think about anything except how good I'm making you feel," Dylan informed him, pressing just that little bit more. “Unless you use your safe word, this ass of yours is mine — you got that?”
Ashton moaned.
"Who does this ass belong to, Ashton?"
"You, dammit, you!" Ashton groaned, rocking himself deeper onto Dylan's finger.
"Ay, that's right," Dylan said, swallowing him down again. He rubbed Ashton's prostate from the inside, massaging Ashton's perineum with his thumb. His other hand he used to cradle Ashton's balls; enjoying their heft, the velvety soft skin.
It didn't take long at all before Ashton cried out, his hips jerking as his body trembled, spilling over Dylan's tongue and down his throat.
Dylan worked him through it, swallowing fast; milking every last drop and then some, until Ashton shied away.
"Dylan, I…" Ashton rasped brokenly, clutching hard at Dylan's shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping him up just then.
"It's okay, Ashton," Dylan murmured, letting him; leaning his head against Ashton's thigh and eagerly drinking in each ragged pant. "You're okay. You did good. I knew you had it in you."
Slowly, he slid free from Ashton's hole, pulling the bandanna from his back pocket to clean them both up.
Look, there was a reason for the classics.
Ashton pulled his pants clumsily up, but he didn't even bother to zip himself away before slumping bonelessly to the ground, his expression flickering oddly as he sat.
Legs sprawled artlessly in front of him, his soft cock peeked out from the nest of curls, framed by his open fly as Ashton braced his forearms on his knees, bent his head, and just —
Breathed.
Heart clanging around in his ribs like a trapped bird, Dylan told himself it was only from being worked up, from the exertion; it had nothing to do with how utterly, adorably wrecked Ashton looked just then.
"You okay?" Dylan asked softly after Ashton didn't move for a bit, moving to sit across from him and give his poor knees a rest.
Ashton laughed, ragged and husky, but he drug his eyes up to meet Dylan's as he rasped out an honest, "I don't know."
Dylan frowned, unsure what to do next. Did Ashton expect, like… cuddles, or…?
"What do I do?" Ashton asked quietly.
"Do?" Dylan echoed uncertainly.
"Yeah. For, uh — For you?" Ashton gestured vaguely at Dylan's crotch.
"Oh. I can take care of it," Dylan waved him away. "I figure you already have enough to deal with tonight."
Ashton looked disappointed, then determined. "Stop being an idiot."
Surprised, Dylan flinched back as Ashton lunged for him, slinging a leg across Dylan's lap and straddling him with thick, firm thighs. He didn't stop there, either, making Dylan gasp as abruptly Ashton's mouth crashed into his; still eager, still hungry, still needy.
For him.
Dylan moaned, arching, gripping Ashton's waist as his hand slipped into Dylan's open jeans, unfastened from where he’d been trying to stave himself off, to concentrate.
Now, it gave Ashton a chance to burrow into Dylan's boxers before either of them could fully think it through, cupping Dylan’s hard cock with a startled expression on his face at his own boldness.
"Don't be a tease," Dylan huffed. "You don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with, but — get to it, or let me take care of it."
"Who's teasing?" Ashton replied, giving Dylan a hesitant squeeze, and then a few experimental strokes.
"Oh, f-fuck," Dylan moaned as Ashton's palm slid up his shaft.
"This angle sucks," Ashton frowned, his thumb circling the head of Dylan's cock.
"You're the one — "
Dylan broke off with a gasp as Ashton leaned in to kiss him again.
"Shut up. You're distracting me," Ashton said, pulling the band of Dylan's boxers down to free his cock and give Ashton some space to work.
"Fuck," Dylan grunted, his hips arching as Ashton's fist began to move, slow and steady and firm as he jacked Dylan off.
"Like this?" Ashton asked curiously, stroking up, twisting a little at the head, and then sliding back down.
"You could go faster," Dylan replied, transfixed by the sight of his dick disappearing and reappearing in the clench of Ashton's fist.
"You're assuming I'm trying to get you off." Ashton laughed, his hand still steadily pumping away.
Dylan blinked. "Aren't you?"
"Maybe," Ashton purred. "Maybe I just want a turn to mess with you a bit first. Seems only fair."
The little —
But Ashton had started to move faster, his fingers curling that perfect degree tighter; Dylan would forgive him anything in that moment.
Leaning back on his arms, Dylan grunted, his hips canting up as he chased the delicious friction.
"Siente tan bien," he groaned, "So good. Yeah, just like that, Ashton, don't fucking stop."
"Can't believe how sexy you look right now," Ashton growled, his hand pumping Dylan's cock harder, his grip and pace a thing of glory.
"Y-yeah?" Dylan grinned. "Do something about it then, I d— "
But his dare was swallowed up by Ashton's mouth; by that tongue probing between Dylan's lips and stealing away all his thoughts.
"Oh, f-fuck, yeah. Yeah. That’s… that’s real g-good," Dylan panted when Ashton released him from their kiss; his cock leaking in Ashton's grip, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Ashton I'm gonna..."
"Already?" Ashton blinked.
Dylan just grinned lopsidedly up at him. "You have no clue how sexy you were, gasping and grinding on my finger, huh?"
"Feels like you're still in there," Ashton said, shifting as a strange expression flew across his face.
And that — that should not have been as hot as it was, the idea that Ashton's ass had — had imprinted on Dylan's — on Dylan's…
"Oh fuck," Dylan whined; balls aching as they tightened, his cock solid steel in Ashton's hand. "Oh fuck. Ash."
"Give it to me then," Ashton murmured. "Show me how it's done."
And with a husky, broken-off laugh, Dylan gripped the back of Ashton's neck; yanking him down to crash their lips together; claiming that foolish, strawberry mouth just as Dylan came all over Ashton's hand.
△▽△▽△▽△
Breathing low and slow, Dylan tried his best not to dislodge Ashton's head where he was using Dylan's stomach as a pillow. Both of them lay crosswise on their backs, watching the scant handful of stars that could be seen overhead through the lights of the city.
At least one had turned out to be a plane, but neither had pointed it out. Neither of them had said anything, really, not since they'd tucked themselves away and just kind of… wound up like this.
It wasn't comfortable. Ashton's skull was a cannonball nesting on Dylan's liver, and gravel wouldn't be anyone's first choice of bedding by far.
His right arm had fallen asleep some time ago from the weight of Dylan's own head resting on top of it, but it left his left hand free to play with Ashton's hair, so…
Yeah. Dylan wasn't moving unless he absolutely had to. Unfortunately, it seemed Ashton's phone had other plans.
"Hey, wher'you goin'?" Dylan slurred drowsily as Ashton moved to get up, tucking his phone away in his back pocket.
"I…gotta get back to the house," Ashton said, not meeting Dylan's eyes and looking as if he were about to bolt.
Dylan tilted his head, watching the guy brush himself off. "Think there's a chance we can do this again sometime?"
"I'm not…gay," Ashton whispered, so softly Dylan almost didn't catch it.
He snorted. "Yeah, so you've said. What's that got to do with anything?"
Ashton barked a sharp laugh, but there was nothing like humor in it. "A lot, I'd think."
"Then maybe you think too much," Dylan snapped, irritated at being shoved away again because of Ashton's insecurities.
"Be honest, Ashton: did you like it? Not just the blowjob or fingering or stuff anyone could do, but — jacking me off, holding my cock; all the things I said I'd want to do with you? "
"…Doesn't matter if I liked it." Finally, finally Ashton dragged his eyes up to meet Dylan's, his gaze ragged and hollow. "I can't."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"Easy for you to say," Ashton muttered, looking away.
"Could be easy for you, too. There's nothing wrong with what we did here," Dylan frowned. "Why do you have to act as if there is?"
Ashton's jaw worked, but no words came out. He shook his head, taking a step back, then two.
"I gotta go," Ashton said as he beat his retreat. "Sorry to, uh… to waste your time."