Written while drunk for a prompt from Tumblr user areagne: "Both of them have their tongues pierced. John has an orange barbell, and Bro has a blue one. Sloppy make-outs ensue."
You have a prompt of your own? Hit me up with an ask/message on Tumblr, on there I'm socialdegenerate.
Also, while I was writing this, I left my laptop open while I went for a smoke break and my housemate secretly switched every 'tongue' into saying 'penis'. If there are any other weird words, blame him and my terrible drunk proofreading.
John: Search the Strider apartment for your boyf-...fuckbu-...Bro.
He's not literally your bro, that would be gross. He's Dave's bro, but considering it took you two months of this weird not-quite-dating thing you've got going on for him to actually tell you his real name, you only pull 'Dirk' out on special occasions. It's led to a few awkward conversations with strangers, but whatever.
Anyway, he's not prowling around the lounge room like he usually is when you come over to see him. Wandering through the apartment, you're honestly totally confused as to where he might be.
"Bro?" You call, still moving through the apartment and dodging strategically-placed piles of smuppets. Finally you here a muffled grunting sound, and you think it's coming from behind the half-closed bathroom door. Still, you make sure to open the door with some amount of caution, because you really don't need to accidentally see Dave jerking off in there or something.
It is Bro, though, and you can see in the reflection from the mirror that he's got his tongue out and pinched between two long, thin fingers. The other hand is threading a tongue bar through from the bottom of Bro's piercing, then grabbing the ball from the sink counter and screwing it onto the bar with the expertise of someone who's been changing tongue bars for years
Once he's eventually done, he turns and acknowledges you with a casual s'up nod.
"Got bored of the other bar?" You ask, stepping towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He rests well-muscled arms over your shoulders, giving you a cheeky smirk.
"Saw this one, figured you'd like it."
Sticking his tongue out, you really don't have anything to say, so you just move one hand to the back of his head and drag him down into a kiss.
He got a tongue bar in almost the exact blue of your eyes…does that mean you actually are dating? It can be kinda hard to know what Bro's thinking, but this?
You've gotta do something for him now.
Go do something stupid for the guy you're really pretty into.
Your dad's gonna kill you, but you're an adult now, you can do what you like. You're old enough to vote, screw a guy who's twice your age, and get piercings.
The girl at the piercing studio can't be that much older than you, but she's entirely professional and calmly talks you through the process, smiling reassuringly at your nervousness.
"Take deep breaths," she says softly as you lay back on the table, eyes darting back and forth between the clamp in her hand and the sterilised needle lying on the table.
You don't know what you were thinking.
This is a terrible idea.
You can't do this.
"Okay, breathe in," she places the needle in the middle of the clamp at the top of your tongue, "and…out."
You shudder out a breath, and then there's just pain. You're too much of a pussy for this kind of thing, and you let out an unmanly squeak as she does something to your tongue.
"Alright, you're all done! Sit up slowly, and we'll go through the aftercare information."
You did it.
You're the juggernaut, bitch!
…you can feel it swelling already. Why did you think this was a good idea?
Fuck Bro. Fuck him right in his perfectly-shaped, gorgeous ass.
Skip forward six to eight weeks or so.
Thank fucking Christ, you can finally move the bar around without wanting to tear your tongue off to lessen the pain. You've also stopped awkwardly drooling everywhere, so that's a plus.
Problem is, the jewellery is still the plain silver barbell that you had to get it pierced with. In Bro's latex-gloved hand, though, is a bar that you searched high and low for, just to get one in the exact orange of his bizarre eyes.
Him holding onto your tongue is weirdly intimate in a way that the piercing girl's clamp definitely wasn't. Even though you know it isn't a sexual thing, you're half-hard from being so close to him.
Well, you think it's not a sexual thing for him. He's a puppet pornographer, and as long as he doesn't try to involve you in that, you're cool with it; but although you've gone through a fair few of his kinks, you don't know if he's still got a piercing kink hidden somewhere inside that ridiculously attractive body of his.
But he doesn't try anything while he's changing the barbells over for you, other than pinching your ass to tell you than he's done.
Those damn glasses make it too hard for you to tell what he thinks about the switchover, though: whether he's as affected by you having his eye colour on your tongue as you were when he did it.
So you reach up, pulling those stupid anime-style shades off his face and grinning as he blinks slightly against the light of the kitchen. Of course, he's so good at stopping his emotions from showing that you still can't tell much, but it's okay. You just like seeing his eyes.
"So?" You ask, looking up into his eyes and running the tip of your tongue along your lips. "What do you think?"
He's clearly weighing up his options, thinking through what he's going to say.
"Egbert, I reckon if this was some dodgy yaoi anime shit, we'd pretty much be married at this point."
You…weren't expecting that. You know that neither of you has any particular wish to get married, but you hear what he isn't saying.
You're totally his waifu now.
Stepping forward, you press yourself right up against him and run your hands down his chest. "You wanna take it for a spin?"
Even though he doesn't say it, the answer must be yes, because he lifts off your glasses and tips your chin up. You go up on your toes to meet him halfway, his thin lips pressing against yours as his tongue moves into your mouth.
The tip hits your tongue bar first, not connecting hard enough to cause any discomfort; it's actually really hot to feel him play gently with it, the piercing you got just to show him how you felt for him.
Slipping your tongue from underneath his, you repay the favour just like you have the entire time you've been together. You'd never thought about getting your own tongue piercing, despite the fact that you've always loved playing with his (and the way it feels against your dick); but you really hope that he likes yours as much as you like his.
Slipping a hand up into his gelled hair, you somehow manage to pull him even closer. You learnt early on that pulling Bro's hair turns him on something fierce, and you've regularly taken advantage of that. Right now, you're rubbing your now-hard cock against his thigh and harshly tugging on his hair, feeling his own dick harden and push into you.
His tongue flicking against yours makes you rut harder against him, the metallic clinking of the bars so much more erotic than it should be.
Bro pulls away, grinning before sticking out that gorgeous blue barbell that is simply you. You flash the piercing you got because of him, licking at his tongue in the kind of filthy kiss you've only ever seen in porn.
Large hands grab your ass, forcefully hoisting you onto the kitchen counter. You wrap your legs around his waist, still licking at his tongue and starting to moan pretty loudly.
He pushes his tongue back into your mouth, swallowing down the noises you can't help but make. You can never be quiet when Bro has your body under his hands, the older man's presence alone almost enough to drive you insane.
You want him to fuck you. You want him to run that blue barbell all over your dick, and you want to put your orange piercing on every single part of his skin. You're thoroughly his, and you know that he is yours. Now, you want to prove it.
"INCOMING INNOCENT PERSON, PUT YOUR GODDAMN CLOTHES BACK ON!"
Groaning in irritation, you reluctantly pull your mouth away from Bro's and drop your head onto his shoulder.
Of course Dave had to pick right now to come home. He seems to have a sixth sense for cockblocking you and his brother. Bro seems to have no issue with teaching Dave not to ever come home, but you always feel bad about driving him out of his own apartment.
Speak of the devil, a second familiar blond head pops around the kitchen doorframe, smiling deviously.
"Sorry," Dave laughs, not sounding at all sincere. Bro glares, but starts pulling off your shirt nonetheless; by the time you think to ask him what he's doing, the shirt is flying through the air and hitting Dave right in his smug, cockblocking face.
"Not cool!" He yells, promptly chucking your shirt back and disappearing. You turn back to Bro, nuzzling into his neck and grumbling under your breath about Dave being a total dick.
"Don't mind him," Bro murmurs as he pinches one of your exposed nipples. "He won't be seen for a few hours now, and we haven't fucked in the kitchen for a while."
There's nothing you can do but grin and run your orange tongue piercing up his pale neck.