Devonficathon
Feb. 11th, 2004 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonlettuceIt's done! (Barely *grin*)
This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
immicolia, who wanted pre-season 6 Devon/Jonathan. Hope you like.
Belonging
By Claire
The lights coming from the stage never quite reach the corner of the Bronze that Jonathan always chooses. He can only see a small part of the stage, but he doesn't care. His eyes are fixed on the figure standing, singing, music weaving around him from musicians that Jonathan can't see providing the backing to the lyrics. And Devon's lips wrap around the words of the song as easily as Jonathan imagines they would wrap around his flesh. Because Devon has a singer's mouth, lips created to curve around words, created to curve around skin and bone.
His hand steals down, slides inside his trousers, fingers wrapping around his hardness, dry in the way Devon's mouth would be wet. Devon would sink to his knees in front of him, release his hard cock. The singer's lips would cover his flesh, tongue playing skin instead of words.
"Suck me."
Devon moves forward, tongue lapping at the cock bobbing in front of him. Hands reach out to steady the shaft before he licks down it, tracing the vein on the underside.
Jonathan's hands weave into Devon's hair, softly guiding him to swallow his cock.
Opening his lips Devon moves, taking in Jonathan's cock to the root. Fingers coming up to fondle Jonathan's balls, Devon hums, sending tiny vibrations through the flesh in his throat.
Jonathan groans, tugging on Devon's hair and pulling him back, watching as his glistening cock slips from the singer's lips. "When I come, it's going to be in your ass, not down your throat."
"Yes," the agreement is purred into the darkness.
"Strip."
And Devon does, clothes dropped without thought for the public place they are in, without thought for any of the hundred people who could come around the corner at any given time. Strips himself and lays himself bare, stretching over the couch, naked and wanting.
Kneeling behind him, Jonathan pulls the tube of lubricant out of his pocket, flicking it open and squeezing some onto his fingers. He grabs the tube between his teeth as he snakes a finger into Devon's cleft, stopping at the entrance to his body, circling once before pushing the slick digit into the tight passage, smiling at the sudden exhaled breath Devon gives at the invasion. He pulls his finger out and squeezes more lubricant out, knitting two fingers together and pushing them back inside the supplicant singer. He holds them there for a second before separating them and moving them, stretching the muscle that's holding him tightly. Pulling his fingers out to the tips, he pushes them back in, widening and loosening.
And soon, he can feel Devon pushing back, trying to keep the connection between fingers and flesh. Removing the invading digits from Devon and ignoring the whimper of loss it elicits, Jonathan slicks his cock with the rest of the lubricant before throwing the tube to the floor. Holding himself steady, he runs his hardness down Devon's ass, pushing between his cheeks and resting his cockhead against Devon's entrance. The sharp intake of breath as Devon realises just how much bigger Jonathan's cock is than his fingers is swallowed by the pulsing back beat of the music cranked out by the DJ. And then Jonathan pushes his hardness deep into Devon, nudging himself further and further in.
Devon's fingers grasp at the fabric of the couch, knuckles white. Covering Devon's hands with his own, Jonathan thrusts, buries himself to the hilt in one sure motion. Bringing a hand up, he moves the hair away from Devon's face, a finger trailing over the flushed cheek. Leaning down, he kisses Devon's forehead, his hand moving from the red-tinged cheek down Devon's body, until it slides under them, searching for Devon's cock.
Devon's cock isn't quite hard as Jonathan wraps his fingers around it, brushing his thumb over the head and feeling it twitch back to life under his touch.
"Move." The softly-spoken order is whispered into Devon's ear. Hitching gasps echo in the darkness as Devon begins to move his hips gently, too gently. Almost completely withdrawing, Jonathan plunges his cock back into Devon, smiling at the unashamed groan of pleasure that is forced from Devon's lips. Thrusting harder and faster into the body under him, he pumps Devon's stiffening cock.
"Can you feel me, baby?"
"Yes." The word is almost a whimper from Devon's lips as Jonathan cleaves back into his body.
Feeling Devon's body rippling around his cock, Jonathan moves faster, hips bucking into velvet heat of their own accord. Tightening his grip on Devon's cock, his touch becomes more harsh, more urgent.
Devon groans, hips moving into Jonathan's touch. "Jon, I'm gonna-" The words are cut off by a bitten-back scream as Devon comes, spilling warmth over Jonathan's hand.
Muscles clench around Jonathan, milking his cock and forcing his climax from him. Emptying himself into his lover, Jonathan's arms collapse out from under him and he drops onto Devon's back, eliciting a small 'oof' from the singer. Rolling to the side, Jonathan slips out of Devon's body, hand rubbing soothingly at his side at the murmur of loss.
Shakily, Devon moves into Jonathan's arms, laying an arm across his chest and playing with the buttons on the still-clothed Jonathan's shirt. Looking up at him, Devon smiles. "I love you, Jon..."
Jonathan bites his lower lip as he comes over his hand. There's a beat of contentment and then he remembers where he is. Scrambling to stuff his limp cock back into his trousers, Jonathan mutters to himself when a quick search of his pockets doesn't turn up the handkerchief he was expecting. Glancing around guiltily, he quickly wipes his hand on the couch. Making sure he's tucked in, Jonathan grabs his jacket and walks back out into the Bronze, bodies packed on the dance floor immediately crowding him and moving him in the opposite direction to the one he wants to actually go.
"Hey! Watch it!"
Wincing, he turns to apologise to the body he's just bumped into, eyes widening slightly.
"Er, Devon. Sorry."
Devon looks at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "Jason, right? Yeah, fine, just watch it, okay."
"Jonathan." But the correction is ignored as Devon walks away, arm slung around Cordelia Chase. And Jonathan in left alone in the Bronze for another night.
This is for
immicolia, who wanted pre-season 6 Devon/Jonathan. Hope you like.Belonging
By Claire
The lights coming from the stage never quite reach the corner of the Bronze that Jonathan always chooses. He can only see a small part of the stage, but he doesn't care. His eyes are fixed on the figure standing, singing, music weaving around him from musicians that Jonathan can't see providing the backing to the lyrics. And Devon's lips wrap around the words of the song as easily as Jonathan imagines they would wrap around his flesh. Because Devon has a singer's mouth, lips created to curve around words, created to curve around skin and bone.
His hand steals down, slides inside his trousers, fingers wrapping around his hardness, dry in the way Devon's mouth would be wet. Devon would sink to his knees in front of him, release his hard cock. The singer's lips would cover his flesh, tongue playing skin instead of words.
"Suck me."
Devon moves forward, tongue lapping at the cock bobbing in front of him. Hands reach out to steady the shaft before he licks down it, tracing the vein on the underside.
Jonathan's hands weave into Devon's hair, softly guiding him to swallow his cock.
Opening his lips Devon moves, taking in Jonathan's cock to the root. Fingers coming up to fondle Jonathan's balls, Devon hums, sending tiny vibrations through the flesh in his throat.
Jonathan groans, tugging on Devon's hair and pulling him back, watching as his glistening cock slips from the singer's lips. "When I come, it's going to be in your ass, not down your throat."
"Yes," the agreement is purred into the darkness.
"Strip."
And Devon does, clothes dropped without thought for the public place they are in, without thought for any of the hundred people who could come around the corner at any given time. Strips himself and lays himself bare, stretching over the couch, naked and wanting.
Kneeling behind him, Jonathan pulls the tube of lubricant out of his pocket, flicking it open and squeezing some onto his fingers. He grabs the tube between his teeth as he snakes a finger into Devon's cleft, stopping at the entrance to his body, circling once before pushing the slick digit into the tight passage, smiling at the sudden exhaled breath Devon gives at the invasion. He pulls his finger out and squeezes more lubricant out, knitting two fingers together and pushing them back inside the supplicant singer. He holds them there for a second before separating them and moving them, stretching the muscle that's holding him tightly. Pulling his fingers out to the tips, he pushes them back in, widening and loosening.
And soon, he can feel Devon pushing back, trying to keep the connection between fingers and flesh. Removing the invading digits from Devon and ignoring the whimper of loss it elicits, Jonathan slicks his cock with the rest of the lubricant before throwing the tube to the floor. Holding himself steady, he runs his hardness down Devon's ass, pushing between his cheeks and resting his cockhead against Devon's entrance. The sharp intake of breath as Devon realises just how much bigger Jonathan's cock is than his fingers is swallowed by the pulsing back beat of the music cranked out by the DJ. And then Jonathan pushes his hardness deep into Devon, nudging himself further and further in.
Devon's fingers grasp at the fabric of the couch, knuckles white. Covering Devon's hands with his own, Jonathan thrusts, buries himself to the hilt in one sure motion. Bringing a hand up, he moves the hair away from Devon's face, a finger trailing over the flushed cheek. Leaning down, he kisses Devon's forehead, his hand moving from the red-tinged cheek down Devon's body, until it slides under them, searching for Devon's cock.
Devon's cock isn't quite hard as Jonathan wraps his fingers around it, brushing his thumb over the head and feeling it twitch back to life under his touch.
"Move." The softly-spoken order is whispered into Devon's ear. Hitching gasps echo in the darkness as Devon begins to move his hips gently, too gently. Almost completely withdrawing, Jonathan plunges his cock back into Devon, smiling at the unashamed groan of pleasure that is forced from Devon's lips. Thrusting harder and faster into the body under him, he pumps Devon's stiffening cock.
"Can you feel me, baby?"
"Yes." The word is almost a whimper from Devon's lips as Jonathan cleaves back into his body.
Feeling Devon's body rippling around his cock, Jonathan moves faster, hips bucking into velvet heat of their own accord. Tightening his grip on Devon's cock, his touch becomes more harsh, more urgent.
Devon groans, hips moving into Jonathan's touch. "Jon, I'm gonna-" The words are cut off by a bitten-back scream as Devon comes, spilling warmth over Jonathan's hand.
Muscles clench around Jonathan, milking his cock and forcing his climax from him. Emptying himself into his lover, Jonathan's arms collapse out from under him and he drops onto Devon's back, eliciting a small 'oof' from the singer. Rolling to the side, Jonathan slips out of Devon's body, hand rubbing soothingly at his side at the murmur of loss.
Shakily, Devon moves into Jonathan's arms, laying an arm across his chest and playing with the buttons on the still-clothed Jonathan's shirt. Looking up at him, Devon smiles. "I love you, Jon..."
Jonathan bites his lower lip as he comes over his hand. There's a beat of contentment and then he remembers where he is. Scrambling to stuff his limp cock back into his trousers, Jonathan mutters to himself when a quick search of his pockets doesn't turn up the handkerchief he was expecting. Glancing around guiltily, he quickly wipes his hand on the couch. Making sure he's tucked in, Jonathan grabs his jacket and walks back out into the Bronze, bodies packed on the dance floor immediately crowding him and moving him in the opposite direction to the one he wants to actually go.
"Hey! Watch it!"
Wincing, he turns to apologise to the body he's just bumped into, eyes widening slightly.
"Er, Devon. Sorry."
Devon looks at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "Jason, right? Yeah, fine, just watch it, okay."
"Jonathan." But the correction is ignored as Devon walks away, arm slung around Cordelia Chase. And Jonathan in left alone in the Bronze for another night.
