
Band: Mest
Pairing: Tony/ Josh “Fucktoy” Stern
Rating: NC-17
Dated: February 2, 2004
Summary: “the words still fresh off his tongue. “You know where to find me.” A soft, too soft, barely there touch. “Why haven’t you taken the offer yet?’”Notes: I'd like to thank this post, and those loverlies.
Josh Stern is this little youngin. And here's a pic and another.
Thank you to Saar for the picture. The other Fucktoy stories: Billy's Bout at Being Butch, or Making the DVD.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. It never happened and I am in no way affiliated with Mest. I mean no disrespect.
They are not in homosexual relationships with each other
and no you may not copy parts of my fiction to use in your own!
Driving Out the Sound of the Rain
Tony was being antsy, and everybody noticed. There was some cheesy horror flick playing on the tv, adequate liquor and substances being passed around throughout the hotel room. But still, in his state of high/drunk/whatever he was, something just wasn’t right.
Josh's gaze never left the blonde, maybe it was adding to Tony’s problem, maybe it was the cause. Josh licked his lips, the words still fresh off his tongue. “You know where to find me.” A soft, too soft, barely there touch. “Why haven’t you taken the offer yet?”
Tony stood suddenly, the air tense as everyone waiting to see what the fuck was up with him. “I need a cigarette.” Spoken to the room, but meant for one person. The curtains flourished as he shut the sliding door behind him, closing him off from the room. The balcony was empty, well who would be there?
Tony breathed in the cold air, the thick moisture making the city lights dim and sparkle every time he blinked. The door opened, soft steps behind him and the door shut again.
Goosebumps.
“You forgot your lighter.”
Breathed onto his neck, warm in contrast to the rest of the air slipping around him.
“You look cold.”
Hands placed on his elbows, the warm breath magnified and his skin alive with the differences in the atmosphere surrounding him. The hands moved to the colorful biceps, a sturdy chest pressed against his back and the air leaving his lungs, re-entering in a gasp. The hands on his sides now. Unmoving.
A shaky breath, feeling the moisture beginning to condense fully and drops falling around them, the noise undisrupted with the absence of sound from the two.
The hands move. Like the drop that landed on his forehead. Moving down. The body pressing closer and the hands dragging down a rain spotted t-shirt. The hands still relatively warm. Tony’s body cold. Slipping under his shirt as lips brush against his neck. Full body shiver, legs locked and tattooed fingers gripping the balcony’s wooden molding.
He can hear the smirk. Feel the words before they come out. “We’re getting wet.”
Tony nods, his eyes slipping shut and snapping open again as the boy moves. Hips against his ass. Fingers creeping up his tattooed stomach, running over each rib. Warm moisture on the back of his neck, a tongue. Just below his hairline. Followed by lips that tempt even the chaste.
The hands move, down again to mirror the falling drops- hitting the surfaces like pearls. Fingertips dancing along tight skin. Rolling down in the force of gravity.
Shoulders turn and lips meet lips, warm tongues lapping at the precipitation forming a sheen over their faces.
A barrier over the skin that needs to be touched.
Hands pressed into his back, his own desperately trying to get in contact with something, anything.
Hips pressed harshly into hips, the low wall behind him pressing back.
The rain getting heavier and the air getting harder to breathe in, forced out through lapses in lip contact.
“Give in.” Its said just above the rain, breath coursing through the drops to his ear. Another shiver.
Fingers press into skin and pull at the clothing between them, pants soon pooled at their ankles. Joining everything in the torrent of water and getting soaked through.
The water cold against now bared skin. Tony is pushed around and Josh is behind him again.
Taught skin and water.
His gasp lost in the rain. His body sways as he feels the slide of skin and skin, a heat despite the cold settles and swells in his lap.
He’s pressed forward, “Grip the rail.” And he does, a shiver when his palms come in contact with the icy surface. Josh's stance widens, keeping the hips stationary as he pulls back and pushes forward again.
Hands pressing against his ribcage as his body is moved in a steady motion, back and forth. Not being stable to hold himself.
The water making hands slip over wet heated skin. Tony shakes and moves against the man behind him. Arching his back and aching for release.
Another moan lost to the rain.
The water hits his eyelids and he keeps them squeezed shut, his lips parted and short pants with every inward stroke of Josh's hips. The pace is marred only when the water causes one of their positions to slide.
He can’t help it and it doesn’t seem like it’s been long enough but he cries, “T- touch me.” Whimpers and moans flowing from his throat, the steady pant of the driving force behind him echoing in his ears.
Wet palm around his cock, twisting and slipping. Hard hits of thighs and even harder gasps for air.
Release is so close he can taste it, mixed with the rain and swallowing his body.
Josh holds his breath and Tony lets it all take it’s course. His hips bucking and knuckles white, the lights below them gaining brightness before fading and coming on again.
All motion ceases and they can’t tell where one starts and the other ends between the damp skin and harsh breathing.
“You know where to find me, Tony.”
=-=
the end.
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