DISCLAIMER: The boys of FTSK own themselves. "Push It" is such a sexual song it just works, and I've maybe seen Glee's performance of it one too many times.
Jonathan is so, so, so drunk. Kyle's kind of shocked, to be honest, and seeing Jonathan tumble around the room, erupting into random fits of drunken giggles, is more entertaining than watching Caleb and Austin suck face in the corner.
Kent turns, gives Kyle the look and the blonde sighs in defeat, putting down his bottle. "Fine, I'll go capture Jonathan. Seriously, who the hell let him near liquor anyway?" Kent just shrugs, half-smiling, and turns back to his conversation with Marc.
Carefully picking his way through the masses of people huddled on the floor, Kyle makes his way over to Jonathan, who's trying to give a sitting-down Jack a poor interpretation of a lap dance. While Jack's cackling on the couch, Kyle widens his eyes in horror and darts over in their direction.
"Shit, Jonathan. Dude, you are too drunk for these shenanigans." He grabs him by the waist and Jonathan giggles, twisting in Kyle's grip.
"No, lemme go, Kyle. I think Jack was gettin' into it." His words are only half-slurring, so Kyle takes that as a good sign. He tightens his grip around Jonathan's middle and shakes his head even through the brunet can't see it. He sends an apologetic look to Jack, who waves it off, still laughing.
"C'mon," Kyle says, tugging Jonathan towards the direction of the hallway. "You're sleeping in my room. I'm afraid of what you're going to do next." Jonathan has more mass than Kyle, even though he's shorter, and the blonde is having a tough time keeping a hold of him.
When they make it to Kyle's room he wrenches the door open and quickly shoves Jonathan in, entering behind him and closing the door, muffling the sounds of the party. Jonathan sways dangerously on his feet and Kyle sighs.
"Bro, you seriously need to back off from alcohol ever again. This just isn't your thing," he says as he strides over to Jonathan. "Get in bed and I'll bring you some water." He starts to steer Jonathan toward the direction of the bed when Jonathan grabs Kyle's wrist with a determined grip.
Kyle raises an eyebrow, meeting Jonathan's eyes, and behind the drunken glaze there's a fierce light smoldering in the brown irises. Kyle shivers and swallows, trying to distract himself. He tries to tug out of Jonathan's grip but the brunet is having none of it. He pulls Kyle closer until they're nose-to-nose. Kyle smells bourbon and whiskey.
"Kyle," Jonathan starts, then pauses, creasing his eyebrows together as he tries to think. He clenches his fingers impossibly tighter on Kyle's bony wrist. "Kyle. I… jerk off thinking 'bout your mouth around my cock."
Kyle's eyes grow wide and his breath catches in his throat. "What, Jonathan…"
Jonathan shakes his head, and lets go of Kyle's wrist. "No, no. I'm… seriously, dude. I get so hot thinking about your mouth." He grabs Kyle's wrist again and pulls it, with some resistance, down to the front of his jeans. Kyle chokes back a noise as his palm comes in contact with the outline of Jonathan's hard cock.
"Jonathan, I don't think this is—is a good idea," Kyle stammers out, though his own cock is betraying him. Jonathan shakes his head like there's a pesky fly circling him. He lets go of Kyle's wrist to curl his hand around the nape of Kyle's neck, fingers twining in the fine strands of brown-blonde hair.
"You don't understand… I bought a vibrator when my fingers just weren't enough," Jonathan whispers, and his mouth is so, so close to Kyle's and Kyle more or less squeaks when Jonathan says this. "I went through two bottles of lube in a week and a half." His nose brushes against Kyle's and he says, "That isn't me. But I want you so badly. Never had the balls to tell you before."
Kyle moans this time and now it's his hands betraying him, reaching around Jonathan's back to pull him closer, get some kind of friction between their hips. "You've got a fucking dirty mouth," Kyle groans, pushing his hips forward, hands still clenching into the back of Jonathan's shirt.
"Let me blow you," Jonathan says before kissing Kyle sloppily, tongue licking across his lips, teeth, the roof of his mouth. "Let me get on my knees for you. Stretch my mouth wide." Kyle moans, rocks his hips forward, murmuring, "Fuck, yes. Please, Jonathan. I'd fuck your mouth, make it so you can't sing anything for days, ands whenever you speak you'll think of me."
Jonathan wastes no time in getting down on his knees, and Kyle helps him undo his zipper and button before pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough to get his cock free. Jonathan leans forward and swipes his tongue over the slit and Kyle's hands find Jonathan's hair as he moans and wills his hips to stay still.
He feels guiltily like he's taking advantage of his drunk best friend, the one who Kyle always thought was a good kid who didn't have this colorful of a sexual vocabulary. But Jonathan seems happy and content with pleasing Kyle, trailing kisses and licks up his shaft while murmuring dirty things in between, and fuck Kyle wants to get horizontal with Jonathan when he's completely sober.
Jonathan shifts his weight, hand gripping the base of Kyle's cock and he's got this sated little smile on his face and his too-red lips are curved upward with it as Kyle looks down, still in awe that Jonathan is even more unexpectedly beautiful flushed with desire, that he's so readily on his knees.
Kyle's brain more or less fizzes out when Jonathan relaxes his jaw and slides down the length of Kyle's cock, throat muscles working against the intrusion. "Jesus," he murmurs, tangling his fingers further in Jonathan's hair. "I didn't know you were—capable of that."
Jonathan slides off, making Kyle whimper from loss of friction, and smiles somewhat mischievously. "I've been practicing," he says, licking his lips, and God this should be illegal. Kyle groans in the back of his throat and pulls Jonathan up, locking their mouths together as he fumbles with the other boy's jeans.
"I've gotta have you," Kyle whispers, hands working quickly against fabric. "Wanna see you fuck yourself on my vibrator." He kisses Jonathan, a mess of too much saliva and teeth, and strips off his shirt before leaning down to tug off the denim that's pooled at his feet, kicking off his sandals as he goes.
He helps Jonathan out of his clothes, and once they're both naked Kyle leads them to the bed. Jonathan's still out of it enough that he babbles while Kyle reaches into the nightstand drawer. He grabs bottle of lube and a vibrator before climbing onto the bed and moving to straddle Jonathan's hips.
Kyle presses their lips together and almost immediately Jonathan's rocking up against him, moaning into the kiss. "Want your cock," he murmurs, pupils blown wide with lust, lips stained dark and wet. "Want it inside me so bad, Kyle."
"Jesus," Kyle gasps. "Fucking dirty mouth, Jonathan." Their skin rubs together, a light sheen of sweat already forming. "Why aren't you drunk more often?" He's still trying to grasp onto the fact that Jonathan is naked underneath him, moaning and whimpering and nudging his hard cock against the inside of Kyle's thigh.
"I'll be your cockslut," Jonathan whispers, mouth brushing against Kyle's cheek, hands grappling and pressing into Kyle's back with urgency. "I'll take whatever you give me, Kyle."
Kyle groans and gropes around blindly on the stretch of bed beside their bodies, fingers finally enclosing on the lube and the vibrator. He breaks away from Jonathan and sits up to pop open the cap. Grabbing Jonathan's hand, Kyle smears some lube onto his fingers, says, "Prepare yourself."
Jonathan scoots backward until he's resting against the headboard, legs spread wide. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and locks eyes with Kyle before sliding one finger in. His moans are obscene and loud and completely for show, but that doesn't stop Kyle's cock from aching.
Another finger slips in and Jonathan's legs inch further apart. He begins scissoring, the digits crossing and sliding over another, and when he adds a third his head falls back, baring the column of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing with each labored swallow.
In short: Jonathan Cook fingerfucking himself is hot.
Apparently pushing down onto his hand with a nervous system full of alcohol isn't enough to turn off Jonathan's motor skills, and he keeps talking, keeps telling Kyle filthier and filthier things, all without uttering a single textbook curse word. Kyle's impressed.
"Jesus, I'd fuck you into the mattress, Jonathan," Kyle says as his hand wanders to wrap around his dick, dry and swift and it should hurt but it doesn't; he's too turned on to differentiate pain-pain from pleasure-pain. He grabs the vibrator with his free hand and tosses it to Jonathan, lube following a few seconds later. "The button is on the bottom."
Jonathan extricates his fingers, and Kyle watches the slide out with greedy eyes, gnawing on his lip as he bites back his own moans. Jonathan's a little uncoordinated as he opens the lube bottle and smears it on the toy, but he seems to be getting more sober as time goes on, and Kyle doesn't know if that's necessarily a good or bad thing.
Sweat collects on Jonathan's hairline, shining on his forehead, cheeks flushed rosy red. His hazel eyes are mud-brown, boring straight through Kyle as the head of the vibrator pushes past the loosened ring of muscles, bigger than Jonathan's fingers but the older boy doesn't seem to feel the stretch and burn. "Wish it was you, Kyle," Jonathan says, voice breathy and high-pitched, sentences broken.
"Wish it was me, too," Kyle replies, hand fisted loosely around his cock, muscles in his thighs flexing as he kneels on his bed. "Wanna fuck you so hard. Make you beg for it. Harder, deeper, faster."
"I would," Jonathan says as he twists the vibrator, finger sliding down to press the button on, and immediately his back goes taut, ribs showing as he arches up, letting a loud moan fall from his lips. "Get on my hands and knees, beg and plead for your cock to be in me."
Palahniuk once said that if you ever wanted to see how someone looked when they were dying, watch their O-face. Jonathan's lost in ecstasy, not even bothering to try to speak coherently anymore and most of his words fall into an unintelligible string of babbles as he moves the vibrator in-out, in-out. The tendons in his neck show, veins bulging as he breathes in, in, but not out, breath caught as his toes curl into the comforter.
His back is bowstring taut, teeth glinting whitely against his dark complexion, tinged darker by the flush of arousal. He grunts, switches hands on the vibrator and pushes back into the pillows.
His cock is dark and heavy against his stomach, shiny with precome and leftover lube.
All Kyle can think is, damn, Jonathan's going to be hot even when he's dying.
"I can't fucking take this anymore," Kyle says, and he's moving forward, grabbing the vibrator out of Jonathan's hands before hoisting him up onto all fours, and Jonathan just moans like the fucking whore he apparently is and spaces his knees wide, goes down onto his elbows and holy shit he's not as shy about himself as Kyle once thought.
Kyle wants to take him, hard and fast and loud, pound into him until his ass is red and sore and he's begging for mercy. Jonathan's making keening noises, interspersed with tiny little sounds that alternate between Kyle's name and filthy pleas. Tonguefucking Jonathan is out of the question, at least for tonight.
"When you come I want you screaming," Kyle instructs before pushing in without any preamble, condoms and lube be damned. Jonathan moans and his body quakes as Kyle bottoms out. "I don't hear you begging," Kyle says, voice husky as he grips onto Jonathan's hips.
"Please," Jonathan replies, almost immediately. "Please, Kyle."
Kyle shakes his head and pulls out, slowly, until just the tip of his cock remains in Jonathan. The brunet whines and tries to push back, get Kyle's cock back inside him, but the blonde shakes his head even though Jonathan can't see it and scoots back. "I want to hear you say the words 'fuck me.' Clearly."
"Say it or I'm leaving you with a bad case of stretched asshole and blue balls."
He pushes back in slightly and the friction makes Jonathan hiss. "Fine. Fuck me, Kyle. Fuck me so hard I won't be able to play a show for the next month."
"You're gonna need to do better than that," Kyle grunts before he's pushing back in, "if you plan on coming anytime soon." He changes angles, hands moving from Jonathan's hips to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking Jonathan's head back.
"Need you," Jonathan gasps, words choked. "Need to feel you inside me, making me yours." His untouched cock aches. "Fuck me like you hate me." He grinds his hips back against Kyle, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Wanna feel the burn for days."
"Such a slut," Kyle says, though it's more loving than scathing. He releases Jonathan's hair and lets his head fall forward before he's quickening his pace, feeling himself get closer with each little uh Jonathan emits, every little plea that falls from the older man's lips.
Gradually Jonathan's noises go up an octave and his muscles are trembling under Kyle's touch. His arms are shaking and sweat glistens on his back. "Bet you're gonna come without my hand even touching your cock," Kyle says, though his own voice is strained and breathy.
"Harder," Jonathan gasps, forehead dropping to the pillows. "So close, Kyle." It's his way of answering-yet-not that Kyle has grown accustomed to. They're both straddling the edge, a few touches and thrusts short of coming.
Kyle flips him over, legs spread wide in a way that must be painful but they're both so turned on the only thing running through their minds is pleasurepleasurepleasure. He looks so debauched that Kyle almost comes right there and has absurd thoughts of mine, he's all mine.
Jonathan's lips are swollen and shiny with spit, chest heaving as his hands clench at the comforter. His cock bounces with each rough thrust and Kyle knows that just touching him will make Jonathan come, knows he has the power to make Jonathan do anything at this moment in time.
Jonathan leans up as Kyle leans down, and as their lips meet in a mesh of tongue and teeth, Jonathan wraps his legs around Kyle's lower back, pulling him forward and deeper. Kyle swallows Jonathan's moans and his hips falter just slightly when Jonathan grips his ass in a desperate attempt to push him deeper, hit that spot inside him that will trigger his release.
"Not yet," Kyle croaks. "You're not coming yet."
"Jesus fuck, Kyle," Jonathan moans, and he's so far gone he's not caring what comes out of his mouth. "I need to come. Shit, just fucking let me come."
Kyle reaches a hand between their bodies and finds Jonathan's cock. He takes him in hand, warm and slippery, and that's all it takes before Jonathan's coming with a cry of Kyle's name that stands on the threshold of being a scream or a shout.
"God," Kyle mutters, managing a few more shallow thrusts before he comes inside Jonathan with a low moan. As Jonathan lays back on the pillows, sweaty and sated, Kyle pulls out and scoots down the bed, running his tongue over Jonathan's asshole, tongue dipping inside.
"Shit, Kyle," Jonathan says, back arching up just slightly. "I can't go again. Not now." Kyle breathes out a laugh and retracts his tongue, pressing kisses up Jonathan's torso before he collapses next to him.
"I need to get you drunk more often," Kyle says conversationally. "You're the kinkiest fuck I've ever had." He stretches his arms out behind his head, eyes slipping closed. He hears Jonathan's indignant sputter and smirks.
"Excuse me, I'm a horny drunk and you happened to be there. Don't flatter yourself."
Kyle scoffs. "Dude, I think you've got a serious ownership kink hidden deep inside your good-church-boy self. Maybe even a daddy kink." He cracks open an eye, and, sure enough, Jonathan's blushing.
Kyle scoots closer to Jonathan and tilts the other boy's head toward his, pressing their lips together. "Anytime you want to see me fucking myself on my vibrator, you just have to ask," he whispers, and Jonathan swallows, pausing for a few seconds.
"Next time," he says, hand cupping Kyle's face. "You can delve further into that catalog of supposed kinks you think I have."
Kyle laughs and rests his head against Jonathan's chest. "You bet your sweet ass I will."
In Kyle's living room, everyone is trying to ignore the giant proverbial elephant in the room that was Jonathan's not-so-quiet scream of Kyle's name. Caleb and Austin, having surfaced for air, sit next to each other on the couch, shifting uncomfortably. Marc's torn between looking embarrassed at hearing his step-brother having sex, or congratulating him. Kent says nothing but knocks back half a bottle of beer in a few seconds.
"It worked?" Caleb asks, turning to look at Austin. As few words as possible are necessary right now. Austin only nods.
From the kitchen Alex asks, "Did someone have sex that wasn't me and Jack?" A drunken giggle. "Dude, we're such bad influences!"
Followed by, "Jesus, Gaskarth, if you're gonna open your mouth at least open it around my cock."
"We should hold a betting pool to see who hooks up when they get drunk," Ziggy says, setting down his glass. "Because this could be a very profitable organization."
Everyone can only nod.