Author's Note: Kind of like a combined sequel to Less Than Innocent and First Time for Everything. I don't know, it could easily be a sequel to either one. Ahaa, this is dirty. Don't look for a plot, people, it ain't there.
Disclaimer: It's still not on HBO, it's still not porn, ergo, it's still not mine.
Five Ways Past Sunday
Looking up from the latest copy of Man Fashion, James cocks an eyebrow up at Carlos, who's regarding him that way that means Carlos wants to make out. James, of course, is happy to oblige, but the thing is, Carlos has got to make the want completely known first before James can go and jump him (last time James jumped him Carlos got all flustered and wouldn't look at him for two days- apparently he can actually be shy, if that's possible. That and, you know, having a relationship with your best friend kind of does that to you.)
"So everyone's out tonight," Carlos says, and then, like he can't help himself, hums a falsetto that sounds familiar to anyone who was there when Carlos was going through his Broadway phase. Which is actually kind of current. James wants to sigh.
"Alright, Mimi, what do you want?"
Carlos, far from taking the name as an insult, looks delighted at James catching the reference and pounces on him, sealing their lips together. James takes it in stride; being friends with Carlos means being able to hold up his weight on a moment's notice, should he deem you a proper jungle gym. He lets Carlos settle them against the larger cushions of the couch, Carlos straddling his thighs and tugging at his shirt.
"Off," he demands, and James grins.
With a huff, Carlos takes James' hands and puts them on the hem of his shirt, giving him a look. James grins, pulls the shirt up and over Carlos head, and presses his lips to the skin revealed, bites softly at a nipple just to hear the sharp intake of breath. He feels fingers scrabble at his shirt, and he lets go of Carlos' waist long enough for himself to be partially stripped as well before their mouths are pressed against each other again. James presses his tongue hard against Carlos' lips until he's granted entrance, licking. Carlos moans into his mouth, fingers gripping his shoulder. It doesn't take long of that before James can feel his dick straining against the material of his jeans, and he quite happily looks forward to whatever means of getting off are in his near future.
"I wanna blow you," Carlos mutters suddenly against his lips, words slurred, pressing their hips together. The request is so completely out of left field, especially when combined with his previous thought, that James groans out a "Yes" without properly thinking. When he does manage to get his head around it, he realizes exactly what it is Carlos has just asked of him, and he blinks, forces the smaller teen away.
Carlos looks up at him, brow furrowed in a ridiculous expression that basically says Are you turning down a blowjob? Are you male? You have a dick. I have a mouth. Where's the problem?
"Don't give me that look, since when do you know how to blow someone?" James demands, feeling vaguely violated. Because if Carlos is suddenly Master of the Dick, or mouth or whatever, that means someone had to come before him, right? That or Carlos has been watching a lot of porn or something.
Carlos rolls his eyes.
"No, I want to know." James glares at him until Carlos sighs and rubs the back of his head. James is reminded ridiculously of Logan, which doesn't work out exactly, since he'd just been making out with Carlos thirty seconds ago and he doesn't really feel like having Logan's face pop up during those kinds of activities, thanks. That's just weird.
"So I've been... practicing?" Carlos says it like it's a question, and James can feel the blush in his cheeks.
"Practicing... what, exactly?"
"Oh, you know..." Carlos looks away, caramel skin flushed scarlet now. "Mrs. Knight bought more ice pops..."
Jesus Christ. That image is forever burned into his brain. Not that James wants to get it out, but still.
"Oh, well. In that case." James tries to keep his voice on a fairly masculine level, and Carlos grins a little nervously.
"Hell yes," James replies instantly, and Carlos beams at him, jumps him again and kisses the breath right out of him. He nips at James' neck once, twice, before pulling back and pressing his palms against James' chest to push himself down until he's settled between James' legs.
James can feel every muscle in his thighs twitching as he watches Carlos unzip his jeans slowly, contemplatively, like he's not entirely sure how to go about blowing someone. Which isn't that far off from the truth. James swallows, hard, eyes firmly set on Carlos' fingers clutching gently at the metal of the zipper, then the button. Jesus Christ, if there was anything on this earth that James could have wished for, it'd probably be this. He finds himself looking from Carlos' hands to his lips, imagining what they would feel like, what they will feel like, holy shit-
Carlos says something then, and James blinks past the buzzing in his head.
"You have to lift your hips," Carlos repeats, smirking. He tugs at James' jeans, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. James knows he's going for the innocent look right now, and fuck if he isn't pulling it off. Carlos has that way about him. James bows his back off the couch, making it easier for Carlos to grip the hem of both his jeans and boxers and slide them down his legs. The release of pressure makes James sigh and lean his head back. Yes.
"Huh." Carlos' voice snaps him out of it again. James looks down his own body at Carlos, who's flushed a faint red color—from embarrassment or arousal, James can't be sure. He's staring down at James' crotch in a way that makes him feel just a little uncomfortable, like he's being judged. He flicks his eyes up at James, biting his lip, and then tilts his head in a sort of, a'ight, let's see where this takes us sort of way. It takes James a moment to realize that he's nervous, not judging.
Even though he wants this, so so much, James still asks, a little hesitantly, "Are you sure you want to do this?" Despite the fact that part of his brain is very much screaming YES! YES! DON'T ASK HIM IF HE WANTS TO, OF COURSE HE DOES YES!, it's a matter of principle, and of simple friendship. So his brain can shut the fuck up, thank you. Carlos is more important than a decent blow any day. The smile he receives in return, on the other hand, is full of mischievous delight, and Carlos responds to James' question by quickly leaning down and licking a long wet stripe up the length of James' cock.
The explosion of sensation shoots straight up James' spine and he gasps, feeling his back arch off the couch. "Oh, Jesus, what the fuck," he manages. "Dude, sneak attack."
"I'm just full of surprises," Carlos sing-songs. "I'm like a ninja of porn or something."
"I approve, porn ninja."
"Ninja of porn."
Fun and kind of adorable as that is (and a little weird, but then their entire relationship is all kinds of fucked up, so James'll take it as is) James can't help but cant his hips a little bit, rocking them forward and making a face. "Then show me what you've got, ninja of porn. I'm not jealous of ice pops yet." Carlos shoots him another grin and presses his hands against the fleshier part of James' thighs, pinning him down. Truthfully, they both know that if James really wanted to he could turn the tables and get Carlos on the floor in one fell swoop, but something about being held down by Carlos kinds of turns him on even more.
Carlos takes a breath, the same as he does before he launches into a solo (and oh, great, now James isn't going to be able to think about anything else next time they rehearse), and leans down again, lips parted. James is torn between staring and watching or closing his eyes and letting the sensation take over but a moment later it doesn't really matter because Carlos flicks his eyes up, mutters," tell me where to go," and then he's on him, lips wrapped around the head of James' dick and just.
Holy mother of wow. Practice does make perfect.
And James totally knew his fascination with Carlos' lips was totally not unwarranted.
James groans and twitches his hips up involuntarily, pushing against Carlos' palms. Carlos pushes down as he presses his tongue flat against the tip, interestedly, like the taste and texture alone is enough to pique his attention for hours. It's such a Carlos thing that James knows he'd be a little love struck if not for the fact that, oh yeah, lips plus cock, that equation is A-okay in James' book.
Carlos' request manages to resurface itself from the sea of various expletives working their way in there when Carlos flicks his eyes up, questioning. Right. Okay, coherence. Gotta find it.
"Just... go lower," James strangles out, staring down his own body, eyes fixed firmly on Carlos' mouth, the way his lips are stretched. The image alone is enough to make him come right here and now, he knows, should he stare long enough. Carlos hums in acknowledgement of the direction and the vibrations travel through his cock all the way into the pit of his stomach, settling into the pool of electric heat that's simmering there. James groans again, wants to buck his hips but knows Carlos isn't ready for that at all.
Carlos sinks a little lower, and kudos to the kid for his lack of gag reflex. He hasn't gagged or even shown any discomfort so far, and James manages to put two and two together. I've been practicing. Holy shit. That thought alone is enough to overcome any decency he might have had, and when Carlos sinks down another inch, fuck it. James rocks his hips up, wanting deeper heat. Carlos makes a shocked noise and pulls back a little bit, cock sliding from between his lips. James can see rivets of saliva and precome connecting lips to skin and fuck if that isn't seventeen different kinds of hot.
"Sorry, sorry," he rasps, and Carlos blinks, shakes his head a little.
"Surprised me, that's all," he responds, and his voice is a little rough. James takes in the state of his lips, shiny and swollen in the light of the room, and okay, yeah, this was the best idea ever in the history of forever. Another shake of his head and Carlos is going down on him again, looking more determined than ever.
"'kay," James forces through his teeth. "Up... up and down."
Immediately Carlos bobs his head a little, following the instruction exactly, and James groans. Good student, he thinks to himself, crazily thinking of role-playing for a moment before pushing it aside. That's a little advanced for their relationship. When he looks down, all he sees is black hair moving slowly up and down between his legs. He can feel Carlos' hair against the inside of his thighs. His fingers twitch.
"I'm gonna grab your hair," says James then. "That okay?"
Carlos flicks his eyes up and hums, prompting James to force his hips down again. Carlos isn't ready, not yet, he reminds himself, and carefully takes two handfuls of spiky coal hair. Carlos moans, then, when James pulls lightly on the strands, and shifts a little on the couch, hand leaving James' thigh. Interest properly caught, James manages to lift his head and sees that Carlos is pressing his palm against his crotch, knees spread in a way that sends his ass a little up into the air. Shirtless, he looks like a miniature porn star, and just. Wow.
James pulls a bit on the hair in his hands, and Carlos looks up.
"Are you, uh." He shakes his head. "I mean-yeah."
It's a mark of the closeness of their relationship when Carlos gets it, nods as much as he's able to and starts sinking lower down James' cock, eyes flickering shut. James moans again, shifting himself down the couch to give Carlos easier access. It's when he feels the head bump against the back of Carlos' throat, feels him force back the gag reflex again, feels the muscles tightening that James loses it completely. He comes with a shout, the heat in his stomach exploding into his veins, traveling through his body.
Shit, he didn't even have time to warn Carlos. He pants, feeling the warm embarrassment course through him in the aftermath of the orgasm, but then he feels Carlos slip off him, and he doesn't hear any protests, any accusations, so maybe he's off the hook.
When he comes to, he sees that Carlos is hunched over on the couch, fumbling with his own belt. He just looks so hot and flushed and his lips are swollen red and his hair is sticking every which way and shit. James just wants to grab him now and pin him to the couch and fuck him five ways past Sunday, but he's so fucked-out himself that there's really not much he can do but lie there. Watching Carlos pull his own pants down, though, until they're around his knees and he's spreading his legs just a little more, seeing how hard he is, fucking touching himself, spurs James into action.
He pushes himself up and grabs Carlos' wrist, yanking his hand away. Carlos looks up at him, pleadingly, and makes a whimpering sort of noise that causes James' dick to twitch a little in interest.
"Dude, no," Carlos whines, breathlessly, but he makes no effort to force himself out of James' grip. "I've been listening to you make fucking porno sounds for like, I don't even know, come on-"
James pulls him forward in the middle of his protest and grabs the other wrist, maneuvering them so that his mouth is right by Carlos' ear.
"I have to return the favor, don't I?"
Carlos shuts up then, and James wonders if he even realizes that he's rocking his hips against James' knee, unconsciously trying to get friction. It's one of the hottest things James has ever seen, and it's not like he was exaggerating. He does want to return the favor. He forces Carlos back by his wrists and pins him down, speaks into his ear again. Fucked out as he is, James Diamond can still put on a damned good show when he wants.
"Don't you want me too?" he purrs, and Carlos makes a porno-noise of his own, staring up at James with wide eyes.
"Ask me to."
Carlos whines again, less of a protesting sort of noise and more of an I want you to fuck me so I limp for three weeks sort of noise. James suddenly wishes he hadn't gotten off already. Instead he raises an eyebrow until Carlos switches from weak pathetic bottom to a little bit more of a pusher.
"Come on, James!"
"Ask me to," James sings.
Carlos growls. "Please blow me. Christ."
Triumphant, and a little proud of the fact that Carlos isn't sticking to the helpless act, something that's really only hot in eighty-five percent of the situations they find themselves in, James kisses him, ignoring the taste of himself still lingering on Carlos' lips. He trails his own slowly down Carlos' jaw, lapping at the sweat pooled under his chin and grinning when Carlos moans and tilts his head back, exposing more of his neck for James to bite and suck at. James takes full advantage, nipping at Carlos' earlobe before licking at that spot just beneath it, and Carlos makes another noise.
"You like that?" James mutters, feeling his own hot breath gust against the wet spot he left behind. "You want more, don't you."
Carlos half-whimpers, half-growls.
"Maybe next time we'll go further." James wants to pose it as a question, but that would involve giving up his current dominant position. And besides, he knows the answer to the unasked question. "I know you want to."
The yes that follows is little more than a breath as Carlos arches a little, pressing into James' thigh in anticipation. He leans in close, lips parted as he lets each word leave his mouth slow, concentrated and warm against skin.
"Maybe next time you'll let me fuck you."
Carlos gasps at the words, eyes slamming shut and mouth opening, breath coming in harsh pants. Ever a yes if James heard one.
James licks a slow trail down Carlos' chest, biting soft skin that's pliant under his teeth as he goes. He takes Carlos' wrists with him, never releasing his hold as he kisses the taut skin of Carlos' belly. He feels it tighten under his touch, Carlos' muscles tensed to the extreme. It's heaving, up and down with each desperate breath.
"James, please," Carlos forces out, eyes shut. James smiles; he can feel where Carlos presses into his chest, leaving sticky streaks on his skin.
"Since you asked," he mutters, and wraps his lips around Carlos' cock. He's barely gone down, though, when the foreplay and the dirty talk take its toll and Carlos comes, a strangled cry forced from his throat as he throws his head back, hands ripped from James' grip to clutch at the arm of the couch. His legs draw up around James, toes curling. James swallows on instinct, warm liquid flowing over his tongue.
James watches Carlos come down from the high of his orgasm, a process that's almost peaceful to watch, muscles unclenching and breaths evening slowly. The post-coital phase overtakes the smaller teen a lot faster than it grabbed James, and Carlos sinks a little into the couch, eyes at half-mast as he stares at James. The corners of his mouth turn up sleepily.
"Best blow of my life, dude," he mumbles, and James laughs.
"Only blow of your life."
"Whatever." Carlos holds out his arms, making gimme hands, and James rolls his eyes. For that he receives the most half-assed glare in existence.
"What, I'm a cuddler. Like you didn't see that coming."
No, he did. James shakes his head, grinning. Carlos. So predictable. He crawls back up Carlos' body and lets him wrap arms around his neck. James settles down next to him and Carlos immediately burrows himself up into James' side, lips centimeters away from his neck. Almost unconsciously, James raises a hand up to card it through the soft bristles of Carlos' hair, feeling a little sleepy himself.
"Hey." Carlos' voice is quiet, sleepy and sated.
James feels the smile against his skin.
"I totally made those ice pops jealous."