sleepytimejunction | electric tapestry

Better than that fucking asshole who took what he wanted and left you hanging in a closet.

[Not that he particularly wants to get into all of the details of all of that. This isn't about sentiment or attachment. It's just not as fun for him without that added level of knowing, that faint thrill that he did that, he pushed the right buttons and look how it made his partner feel.

Still. Likes being told what to do, huh? Okay, that's something he can work with. It's actually just about the right amount of sharing, really; it's not like he wants the guy's life story and laundry list of sexual interests. Just a little something to work off of is perfectly fine.]

Why the fuck am I the one prepping you, then?

[He spreads his two fingers a little, like it's for emphasis.]

Put yours in, too. It'll go faster.

What a fucking gentleman you are.

[Comparatively speaking to most partners he's had, that's not untrue. But he's hardly going to complain, even if there's a part of him that screams internally it's too kind, he doesn't deserve that, just fuck him up--

He peers at the other man from the way he's pressed up against the wall, then sneers at him, squirming a bit at the feeling of being spread out. It's almost too much but not quite, just edging on it, and he likes that too. Abbacchio curls two fingers, worming them inside to work up alongside the others already inside.]

Nnh. Fuck-- that wide enough for you?

Yare yare...maybe I should've gagged you.

[Well, if he wants to mouth off. He pushes the guy against the wall a little harder, crooking his fingers to brush up against the other man's inside him. It's such a little thing, but the thought of it makes his dick throb anyway, makes a soft hiss of breath escape from between his pressed-together teeth.

Fuck, he really doesn't want to wait around, but — a little bit more, probably, just to be safe, just to make sure he's really relaxed enough for this.]

Don't tighten up. You'll get what you want in a minute.

Too late for that now, huh?

[The firmer pressure makes him shiver, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the other man's fingers curl up inside of him, just brushing up where it's most sensitive. His hips jerk, and he doesn't even muffled his moan this time.

Yeah. He's definitely hard again.]

Worried it's gonna be a tight fit? Would be for you with just about anyone.

It's too much for some people.

[Maybe if he were anyone else, it would sound like bragging, except that his tone stays completely matter-of-fact. It's definitely happened before, he's not proud of it, trying to ease his way inside a partner as carefully as he can and having the whole thing go south because he was just too much. He never comes away from those feeling good, orgasm or not.

But it doesn't seem like this is going to be one of those times. This one's used to rougher treatment, gets off on it. No, this one's going to be okay, he thinks.]

But I bet not for you. With a mouth like that you must be a champ at taking dick.

[He fucks him a little more with his fingers, stirring him up, and when he finally draws them out again he gives him a slap on the ass for good measure.]

Where's the condom?

Think-- they make a trophy for that? Best at Taking Dick.

[Abbacchio's voice is quivering more than he'd like, but it's hard to do otherwise considering his position. Though he's still fingering himself alongside the other man, it's not quite the way the other fingers are fucking him, pushing him along.

He sucks in a breath sharply at the slap, his cock twitching. That's good, but he doesn't compliment him. Instead, Abbacchio withdraws his own fingers, his other hand he's been biting and smeared with lipstick reaching into his jacket pocket, holding the condom up.]

Can't be too sure. Don't know where your dick's been.

Hah. Nowhere interesting.

[All right, all right. He — takes a breath, collects himself a little. Snatches the condom and its wrapper out of the guy's hands and finds a clean bit to get between his teeth to help him tear it open. There's something about the tremor smothered in the guy's voice that's really kind of doing it for him, getting under his skin.

It takes some focus, but he gets the condom on without incident. This time, when he moves back against the other man, he takes advantage of his height and broadness, pressing up against him all along his back and using the weight of his own body to push him against the wall. You're strong enough, he'd said earlier. Maybe he'll enjoy a reminder of that.]

You need a minute?

[It's just asking for another nice guy wisecrack, but. He wants to hear what the guy says, wants to make him use his words, even while he's lazily grinding his dick against the other man's ass.]

[It's kind of a rare situation where someone is larger than him. Broader maybe, but this guy hits it on all accounts: he's taller, bigger, and just as strong as him, and it's honestly kind of thrilling. So when he's pushed against the wall, he feels his chest flush against it, his back arched with his ass basically on display. Abbacchio's cheek is against the wall so he can look over his shoulder, ombre eyes narrowed.]

Don't wait.

[Reaching down, he's grabbing one ass cheek, spreading himself out for the other man's cock to press against. It's hot, and he does kind of wish he'd get rawed instead, but whatever. This is still good, still fucking messy, and he can deal with that.]

Fucking softie.

We'll see if you still think so in a minute.

[Fuck, that's obscene, the way he's just putting himself on display like that, almost like he's daring him to fuck his brains out. It's so much better than shy simpering or overexaggerated whining; it's sharp and it's rough and it's simple, and now they're finally at the point where they're both just going to feel good, and that will be it.

So he works a hand between them — not much space for it, but he manages with a cock of his own hips and a little creative maneuvering, and gets himself lined up, rubbing his tip against the other man's relaxed entrance a few times so that he won't quite know when that push is finally coming.

Let him suffer a little.

But finally he's sick of fucking around, and so on one pass he finally lets himself catch on the rim of his hole and pushes in, slow but without stopping, holding his breath against the heat and the tight drag.]

[The teasing is almost too much, and he doesn't want to wait. His lack of patience is emphasized with a little growl, tempted to just shove him back and get what he wants, but he waits regardless.

Then finally, he starts pressing in.

Using his own come as lube helps a little in making it smoother, the condom helping a bit too, but there's still a burn along with being spread out like this. Abbacchio hisses, eyes shutting for a moment as he breathes in and out slowly, trying to relax himself to make it easier.

God-- fuck, it's so much. He knew it'd be a tight fit, but he's really feeling it now. He's so hot inside like this, and the more he goes on the more full Abbacchio feels.]

Fuck...

[Abbacchio lets out a breath, finally opening his eyes to look at the other man.]

You're gonna break me with that. [But Abbacchio doesn't sound concerned or afraid. It's more like a dare.]

Aw. What's wrong, baby, gonna scream about it?

[Dry as it is, it's all talk. Even as he says it, his hands are moving to rest on the other man's hip and to circle around to rest flat on his abdomen — holding him steady, keeping him from moving around too much before he's ready. He could hurt him like this, Jotaro knows, and he's loath to, but like hell if he's going to get sentimental about it. Better to just rile him up a different way instead, fill the silence with spite so it doesn't get awkward with gentleness.

So, this is better. His thumb strokes lightly along the taught muscle of his stomach, trying to coax him into relaxing more without calling attention to what he's doing. He wants so bad to just — move, chase the friction and damn the consequences, but he won't, so focusing in on that one small gesture serves a dual purpose, helping him stay grounded, too.]

I'll put you back together when I'm done.

You wish I would.

[The words make him snort, and he peers at the other man with a sneer -- but he doesn't ignore the way the hand slowly touches him, thumb stroking, like he's taming a wild animal. He might as well be.

But it works, and he settles down, even as he clenches briefly around the thickness of the cock buried inside of him.]

Heh. [He breathes out the dry laugh.] How sweet. Don't break your toy beyond repair, huh?

Might wreck you for anyone else, maybe.

[There, that's better. He's easing up, that's good. He stays still just a little bit longer, trying to hold out, but eventually it gets to be too much and so he ducks his head against the feeling, holding his focus while he slowly draws his hips back and rocks them forward again.

It's a tight fit, there's no denying that. There isn't nearly enough lube (or worthless substitute, even) to really make this comfortable; there'll be a burn for the guy, he's sure of that. But he's so hot inside, too, and when Jotaro breathes in he catches the scent of his shampoo again, and all of a sudden he stops worrying so damn much.]

Relax.

Don't let it get to your head.

[It's going to hurt, but it's the kind of ache he won't complain about. He feels the other man move, pulling back and pushing back inside; Abbacchio bites onto a finger, which is meager in muffling the ragged groan drawn out of him.

Relax. It's spoken like a command, and he sinks a little against the wall, peering over his shoulder. His legs nudge open a bit more, like it'll make any difference.]

As relaxed as I'm gonna be.

Hope you didn't have any big plans to sit down for the next few days.

[He thumbs against the guy's stomach again, more from reflex than anything else, then grips him by the hip and rocks into him again — harder this time than the last.]

Hm.

[A thought occurs to him, and he reaches for the guy's hand, taking it by the wrist and pulling his arm behind his back, guiding his fingertips down to feel the way his entrance is stretched around his cock while he's buried inside.]

Touch. Feel it, right here.

[The harder motion makes him groan, arching his back, as if inviting him to keep doing that. The friction isn't too much, but he's definitely going to ache for awhile yet.

Numbly, he makes a confused sound when the other man takes his hand, then feels where it's being guided. Oh. oh, holy shit, that's so much. Abbacchio shudders, idly tracing over the way he's fitted around his dick, how stretched he is. God, he knew it'd be a lot, had this in his throat not that long ago, but feeling it like this is another thing altogether.]

Shit....

[He leans his forehead against the wall. Yeah, okay, tracing his fingers over where they're connected -- that's pretty fucking hot.]

S'prised you fit, gonna be honest.

Something to remember.

[There, yeah, that's better. That's much better, it's satisfying the way the other man just kind of sags and lets the wall hold him up, especially after all the venom he'd had just a handful of minutes ago. But that's what he likes, isn't it? Having someone make him behave?

Shit, it's hot to look down and watch his cock disappearing inside him, pushing in further and further before it draws back out again to the tip for another go.

He thinks about warning him. Gonna fuck you now, or even just something simpler, a fleeting hang on. But if this guy hasn't already guessed what's about to happen, well, that's really his problem, isn't it.

So Jotaro bites down on his lip instead, bending his knees a little to get the leverage he wants going, and fucks steadily into him in a smooth, even rhythm.]

[As he feels the cock drag out, Abbacchio moves his hand back against the wall. He's trying not to brace himself, just let it go, let it happen, because they've been building up to this and he does know what's going to come (ha).

Finally, he softens up, not quite tamed but close to it. He opens his mouth, hissing out in satisfaction as the other man starts to properly fuck him. The slide has an ache to it, but not enough to be unpleasant. It's just an addition to the experience, melding with the pleasure that's starting to build.

His leg kicks a little and he breathes in sharp, more as a reflex than anything else. Fuck, that's nice. When was the last time he'd had something this good?

Reaching down, he starts to stroke himself, panting against the wall.]

'Bout time. [His voice isn't as sharp as he'd like it to sound, more rough and haggard from pleasure than from annoyance.]

Haah. Worth the wait?

[It is for him. The heat of this guy's mouth had been good, satisfying in and of itself, but this? This is something else. If this weren't just a random quickie in a work closet, he might be a little more generous and actually knock the guy's hand away to stroke him himself. But it is just a random quickie, so let the guy do it himself. He'll focus on his own part and his own pleasure, and they'll both get what they want.

He starts out slow, but as the rhythm builds his reservations start to melt away, until soon he's putting his weight into each thrust. It lets him get nice and deep, with plenty of contact on every slide, and before long he's pulling the guy back into each roll of his hips while he's at it, determined to really give it to him.

It's been a while. His stamina is good, but he's still not going to last forever, especially not from a ride like this. He can feel his climax building gradually, spurring him on, and focuses on holding it at bay until it starts to look like his partner is close, too.]

Mmm--

[God, it's good. It doesn't take much for it to build, that delightful tension; he really can't help but adore how he's dragged back down at every thrust, his ass meeting noisily against the other man's hips. He strokes himself almost furiously, palming himself at the tip before he's just pumping his own dick just to finish as soon as he can.]

Like that-- hha--

[He rubs his cheek against the wall, unable to help but let out a whine. Close, just so close to losing himself to free bliss.]

[There better not be someone wandering around this warehouse right now, or they're really about to get an earful. But that's a problem for another Jotaro and a later time, and right now this one really just wants to get off.

(Just a little, just a little, he regrets the condom. All the whining is setting off something hot and possessive inside of him, and it'd feel so satisfying to come inside this guy, mark him up, make him deal with the mess until he could find a way to go change his clothes — but that'll have to just stay a fantasy.)

There's not a lot of room to move around, but there's room enough for this; this time, instead of just pulling the guy back into his thrust, he snakes a strong arm around his waist and actually lifts him off his feet, holding him up an inch or two off the ground to let gravity do half the work for him while he drives in deep.

And maybe that's what does it, just the thought of it, just the moving him around like a ragdoll, but two thrusts later he's biting the inside of his cheek as he comes, grunting low in his throat and spilling into the condom while he's buried as deep as he can go inside.]

Holy--

[Of all things, he doesn't expect to be lifted off of his feet like that, held up and just fucked into. He'd have no problem coming otherwise, but this is what sets off Abbacchio too, and he bites down on his knuckles hard enough to bruise them. It barely does enough to stifle the cry ripping out from his throat, as he finally comes a second time.

Well. Hopefully no one is going too concerned about the stain on the wall. He slowly pants, his arms shaking against the wall. He feels so good and numb for the moment.

It'll suck a bit later, but it's worth it, he thinks.]

[Hmm. Well, that's going to leave a stain. He probably shouldn't feel as darkly triumphant about that as he actually does, but there's something deeply satisfying about it anyway. Yeah, he came that hard. Yeah, he made this guy do that.

He's careful as he lowers the guy back down to his feet, focusing himself on keeping his legs steady so he doesn't do something stupid like drop both of them. He can feel it, though, the way his knees are starting to get a little rubbery — hah, he's not as young as he used to be, either — and so he focuses on the little necessary bits of cleanup while he's still got the attention span to do it, sliding out of his partner and tying off the condom, and finding something to lean up against while he catches his breath.

...Fuck.]

Hm.

[Shit. Hell, that was a lot.]

...Well?

[For a moment, Abbacchio doesn't say anything, just his legs shaking as he leans against the wall, trying to support himself but reluctantly finding himself needing the other man to help too. He's still breathing hard, the burning ache slowly starting to set in. The tub he has back at his place is small and cramped, but it'll have to do while he takes a hot bath later.

Well? Well what, a part of him wants to snap, but he feels a bit softer after all of that.]

Not bad.

[He lets out a breath, sighing.]

Stronger than I thought you'd be. [Which was-- really fucking something.]

Mm. You're a hell of a fuck.

[He watches him a minute, lost in thought. He still doesn't even know this man's name; he could find out, his looks are easily unique enough. But does he want to? Or does he just let this end at the threshold of the door, and as soon as they both step through it, they're strangers once again?

Something to think about. He'll have to figure that out soon, but maybe not quite yet.

There's black lipstick smudged all over the guy's mouth; he really looks like he's been through hell. Unable to resist, Jotaro reaches over and runs his thumb along the curve of the corner of the other man's mouth, cleaning a bit of it away.]

Whole world's gonna know it, too, unless you get cleaned up.

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