
So Come Inside
Title: So Come Inside
Pairing: Matt/Jere of Mest
Rating: R?, b-b-ba-low-job
Dated: June 26, 2004
Note: I was inspired by a random line (the very last) and yep, this is the product. And heh, guess I needed a break from the mpreg. Impromptu fiction almost. And I'm posting it before I hate it. So read, review, critique, etc.
Summary: I always end up writing Jeremiah as the slut. Go figure. Standalone.
Note: If you cannot read it here, try here.
Sure, you’d seen him before—talked to him, flirted even. This wasn’t the first time he’d bought you a drink and whispered in your ear. You blushed the last time and when you told him you were seeing someone, you knew he could tell you were lying.
This time you got curious. Maybe...more daring. Inviting him to have a seat next to you, order a drink for himself. You got to talking and found out more about this mysterious man. The two of you work in the same building, you’ve come to the same bar with your friends (boyfriends, girlfriends, tricks) for years. But he’s not from around here.
He moved here a couple months ago, he told you. Said he was looking for someone to show him the town. But you suspect he already knows his way around. You could see it in his demeanor. In those dark eyes and libertine touches to your elbow.
“I think you and me could get along,” he said in a smoky voice. One that’s seen a pack too many of the Camels sticking out of his pocket. “We should go out sometime,” a phrase you’d heard a thousand times. Same words, different voices.
“I’m not one for going out,” you said, reaching around for your coat. “I have work in the morning,” you said, standing and straightening your collar. You smiled curtly in his direction and nodded to the bartender, running your fingers over the keys in your pocket.
The scene replays in your head as you walk up the stairs to the street. You step onto the sidewalk, the cement damp with the moisture that coats your lungs as you take deep breaths of warm air. Sounds fade out as you walk farther from the small businesses and remaining bars still open, down the street towards your apartment.
You hear the clap of shoes on the walkway behind you, steady and firm, and curiosity gets to you. You turn your head and glance back. Brown hair and long legs and he’s following you. Or traversing in the same direction, perhaps?
You straighten your gait and look ahead, suddenly hoping he’s not a serial killer or mugger or rapist. One more block and you’ll be home. You’re more curious as to why he’s following you, relying on your bravado that you could act if something came up.
You shake the crazy thoughts from your head and glance back again. Yes, he’s still there. He catches your eye with an attractive smile and you turn back around, pushing all your thoughts away and pulling your keys from your pocket.
You hop the three steps to your apartment building, cursing at the dark and the light fixture above you that went out last week. You feel around for the lock, sensing his footsteps coming closer and stopping a good distance behind you.
“I didn’t catch your name,” he says to your back.
You contemplate telling him a different name but already knows where you work, live, and go out to. You blink slowly, still trying to find the lock, “Matt.”
You listen for him to say something, or leave, but all you hear is a car passing by. You turn your body slightly and look behind you, taken aback when you realize he’s a lot closer than you thought.
He’s at the foot of the steps, looking up at you from behind wisps of dark hair that falls into his eyes. The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile, his hands in his pockets and jeans riding low. He slowly raises himself up onto the bottom step, then taking the middle as you watch him.
“Like I said, we should go out sometime, Matt.” He nods, shifting his weight on his feet and leaning closer to you. He’s taller than you but where you stand on the landing and him on the middle step makes the two of you meet at eye level.
“And like I said,” you swallow, he smells like vodka and tobacco and you can’t get your eyes off his lips, “I’m not one that goes out.”
His smile widens and he licks his lips, you can only guess, purposely. Dark eyes sweep over your features, “Oh?” His eyes flick up to yours then to your lips and back again. “Well,” he smirks and seems to lean closer. His breath is warm on your lips as he whispers, “I’d like to change that.”
His lips hit yours first, or maybe you met him in the middle but he definitely had you pinned to the door before you could think fast enough. As his tongue presses against yours, the keys fall from your hand, landing with an echo in the empty night.
He pulls away first, leaving you to stumble forward when he steps back to bend down and pick up the keys. He smiles up at you, eye-level with your zipper and holds up the keys. As he stands he makes sure that his body makes as much contact with yours before you turn and unlock the door.
You don’t bother with lights, it was the same darkness outside that it is inside your apartment. Your eyes are already adjusted and he is just getting started. His hands slip behind your neck and his mouth his warm and wet, his skin damp from the air outside.
You moan into his mouth as the door frame to your bedroom digs into your spine, your hands pushing the light material of his shirt up his chest. His skin is warm and smooth under your fingers and he groans as your palms press into his ribs. You push off the wall, shoving him in the direction of the bed—the springs squeaking let you know he landed firmly.
You hear him suck in air and feel his hands at your waist, pulling on the closure of your pants. Two small movements and your pants are open, his hand dipping inside. Just a tease before he’s standing again and pulling the hem of your shirt over your head.
You watch as he kneels, tongue sliding over your stomach as his hands push your pants to your ankles. His fingers trail up your thighs and his breath his warm on your hips, his lips dragging over your skin. He slides his broad hands up your sides then down again, resting them on your lower back, holding you steady as he teases you with his tongue. So close but not.
He stands again, nipping at your neck before kissing you. A deep, wet kiss that makes your skin tingle and your body scream. He pulls back suddenly and turns, pushing you down on your bed, grabbing your wrists and forcing your thighs apart with his knee.
You gasp as his thigh presses right against your cock, a noise coming from your throat that sounds almost animalistic. He grins and leans down to lick your neck, moving down again to your nipple. His teeth graze against your skin and you moan, wanting him to suck your cock already. Your eyes fall shut and you swallow hard, making your hands into fists and grinding up against his jeans.
Moving down again, you raise your head, watching him. His hands slide down to your cock and you moan a lot louder than you intended to, your face flushing and electricity running just below the surface of your skin.
He draws his fist down your cock, his lips meeting his hands. You moan again, arching up into his touches, his lips. Gripping a handful of his hair you pull your knees up to give him more skin to touch because it feels so good.
Chest pounding, you choke on a moan in your throat as he suddenly takes your cock in his mouth. Warm tongue and strong hands and you’re at his mercy. You’d steal the moon if it meant he’d keep sucking on the head of your cock like that.
Your hips shift before you register the movement and he makes a noise low in his throat, sucking more of your cock into his mouth. His hand slips under your balls and you moan again, hips twisting up off the bed in an effort to get more still.
His mouth leaves your cock for a second and you yelp when he bites into your thigh, a malicious smile as he glances up at you. “Fucking suck me off,” you groan and he tightens the grip on your cock, making you whimper.
His lips go back to your cock and he breathes out warm air down your shaft. You’re a mess of moans as he bobs his head, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks and rubs his tongue along the underside of your head.
It’s getting so hot in your bedroom and you don’t know how much longer you can hold out with his mouth all over you like this. You reach down and pull his hair, moving your hips against his face. He looks up at you and pulls back, leaving your cock wet. He moves his hand up and down your shaft, at the same tempo as his mouth was previously but then he speeds up. You dig your heels into the mattress and moan, tipping your head back as he begins to suck on the head of your cock again, his hand sliding rapidly. And now you know it’s over.
White light flashes as you squeeze your eyes shut, a deep moan resounding through your chest and small bedroom. You grip at the bedding, his shoulders, his hair, whatever you can get your hands on and you press up off the bed and against him. Your muscles strain and you lose all control, shaking between him and the bedding before your body relaxes.
You look down, your chest heaving and body warmed through. He wipes at the corner of his mouth and smirks, running his fingers through his hair as he stands. He straightens his shirt and you sit up, confused.
“But-“
He shakes his head and presses his lips to yours before pulling back quickly, “I have work in the morning.” A seemingly innocent smirk before he heads towards the door. You scramble to stand up, lightheaded from his lips, and slide your boxers back on. You dart into the living room and he hands you a paper—“Jeremiah 517-724-1013”—and you shake your head.
“What-“ you begin to ask why he’s leaving but he stops you with a finger to his lips. He opens the door and turns towards you. You ask, “Why did you follow me?”
He smirks, and in that sexy rasp he answers, “To set your world on fire.”
=-=
the end.
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