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Idiot	By : Kasidy92 Category: Web Comics > Honeydew Syndrome Views: 884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The following is a fan-based fiction. I do not own Honeydew Syndrome or its characters. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Idiot
- 1
Metis was an idiot. It was the sort of common, unchallenged knowledge to which even mere acquaintances were privy. Not to say he was ignorant (he knew plenty of useless facts about everything and anything and consistently scored quite highly on all his tests in school), but just plain obtuse sometimes. Especially when it came to people and the acceptable things to do around them.
“Socially stupid”, Charles had once sneered at him, earning him a mildly threatening glare from his victim and a volley of knowing laughs from the rest of his friends.
Josh, of all people in contact with Metis, supposed he ought to know this more than anyone else. Besides Charles and Metis' own family, he imagined Metis spending a lot of his free time, and dispensing a lot of a certain special kind of said idiocy, with him. Nothing, not the seemingly random remarks about his hair length nor the ridiculous ramblings that often started and lead to nowhere, should surprise him.
And yet-
“Josh. . .”
But then-
“. . . it'd be really funny if your cock suddenly got hard.”
'. . . what the fuck?'
Promptly pausing the game, Josh hoped every bit of incredulous, awkward confusion he felt then showed on his face. Metis only smiled a familiar sly grin, staring up at the frustrated blonde.
The summer evening light tinted the messy room a muted orange. Outside the window the leaves and branches of a tree slightly blocked the sunshine, casting a wavering shadow upon the two. Lounging on the floor, clothed casually in baggy cargo pants and a fitted tee, tight jeans and a wrinkled button up shirt, the teens stared at each other for a long moment as the smile on Metis' face grew. Laying on the floor amongst astrewn clothes and items, his head was nestled comfortably in Josh's lap.
“I mean,” he continued with a chuckle, turning his head to stare at the television screen. He tilted his head into Josh's lap with a gentle press. “Not that it doesn't already feel like you're getting horny. Pervert.”
“You're one to talk,” Josh immediately snorted back, “What the fuck's been on your mind?” He didn't wait for an answer as he resumed his game, and smartly enough, for by the stoic look on his face, Metis' thoughts had long passed to the next destination on its stupid stream of conscious. Josh cursed inwardly as he struggled to fight mental images of awkwardly placed erections.
All courtesy of his lovely, fucked up boyfriend. . . whose face just conveniently had to be located near his crotch. Josh expelled his annoyance in a gruff sigh, frowning at a muffled snicker from below.
“You're too fucking easy to tease, you know,” Metis fought to speak through chortles.
'Bastard. . .'
Tossing his controller to the side, Josh cared not as the computer controls pummeled his avatar to death. His hands immediately went for the wriggling body below him. Dirty undershirts and poorly graded papers went flying as the much thinner teen struggled underneath the bulky athlete. Unapologetic cries of mercy coupled with increasingly loud laughter only earned him an annoyed glare and effortless choke hold.
“O-okay, alright!” Metis pipped, red faced from laughter. A fist mussed up his already tangled hair. “I'm sorry!”
“Like hell you are,” Josh snorted as he continued his punishment.
Of course, he thought with an exasperated frown. No matter how much he prepared himself for idiocy, how much he believed he ought to be able to see it coming, Metis was not predictable.
Not yet, at least.
Josh glanced down at the grumbling form in his hold and smirked. The hair on Metis' head was the messiest he'd ever seen, even more tousled than the very few times he'd been lucky enough to see him after a heavy nap. Gradually, the arm around Metis' neck relaxed and he released his hold.
“Fuck it, you're not worth the energy,” Josh muttered, propping his arm on his knee. A mirthful sigh escaped him as Metis sprawled out before him, hands massaging a no doubt numb scalp. He held back a laugh at the miserable face Metis made. “Oh get over it. I went easy on your ass.”
Metis climbed to his knees, shifting carefully to Josh's side. Shooting the blonde a weak glare so pathetic and bratty it elicited an even wider smirk, he reached for Josh's own hair, frumping up the short strands gently.
“First you're getting hard and now you're talking about being on my ass? Geez, how horny are you?” his quieted voice all but purred.
Josh raised a brow, letting a hand of his own find its way to Metis' waist. With one careful pull, the two were against each other. Josh wasted no time in stealing a rough kiss while Metis continued to finger his blonde hair. Or was Metis stealing the kiss? As thin fingers crawled across his shirt, tracing along a defined abdomen and pausing upon the center of his chest, Josh wondered who was kissing who. The hand tangled in his hair soon lowered to his neck, soft fingertips massaging small circles into a tough knot in the muscle where his shoulder and neck met, no doubt from sitting stiffly against his bed for so long. Both of his hands reaching for Metis' waist, Josh breathed into the kiss. He pulled the other closer still, catching his breath as he was hastily straddled.
It wouldn't be long, Josh mused in this thoughts, before Metis found that he really did have an erection, made long before it was even brought up. And perhaps Metis knew it was there when he first forced his head onto Josh's lap earlier, glancing up at him every few minutes, a crafty glint in his eyes as he played with the top buttons of his shirt every so often. . .
Just as he was imagining (in vain, he knew, but still fun to speculate) Metis' reaction the firm bulge beneath him, their kiss was broken. Josh carefully opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd been squinting shut to see Metis cradling his head. A sly, wanton smile played at his lips.
And once more, Josh was suspicious. Watching Metis gingerly bite his lower lip, he pondered whether their inevitable make out session was worth an even more inevitable cheesy wise crack or stupid joke.
Leaning in to claim those lips once more, Josh flinched as twinge of pain ran through his neck, sending an abrupt twitch through his back.
“You alright?” Metis whispered as he pulled back, a seemingly genuine bit of concern tinting his speech. Reaching back and clutching the edge of the bed, Josh waited for Metis to move before standing.
“Yeah, I just. . . .” Stroking the back of his neck, he glanced down at Metis with hooded eyes, receiving a knowing gaze in return.
The ardorous smile returned to Metis' face, though with an added bit of wiliness.
'Huh. . . so he is planning something stupid again.'
“I thought you might be tense. Need a massage?” he offered innocently enough.
Oh fuck yes-
NO. Musn't be tricked, he reminded himself ruefully. He is planning a trick.
“Maybe in a bit,” Josh muttered quietly. He moved for his dresser. His legs sang in relief to be extended once more.“Turn off the game, will ya?”
“No way,” Metis quickly snorted, reaching for the discarded controller. In a second he was settled on the floor, legs crossed neatly beneath him. “I'm going to beat the shitty score of yours.”
Josh merely raised a brow. '. . . or not?'
“Whatever, just mute it then.” Fumbling through a fragile stack of CD's, he pulled out an unlabeled, yellowing disc, probably a mix of bands randomly slapped together one day, and made his way to his desk where his dilapidated stereo collected dust. Popping in the disc, he didn't wait to see what was on it.
“Getting some beauty sleep?” Metis muttered, his button mashing fest begun.
“Sure, why not?” The bed springs squeaked painfully as Josh let his full weight down in one clumsy throw of his body. “Try not to curse too loud when you fuck up.” It wasn't long before the staccato button clicks of his abused game controller and hushed classic rock seemed far off. Josh gave a final glance at the clock on his nightstand: a little after five. “Wake me up if it gets too late and I'll take you home, m'kay?”
Metis' only reply was a short grunt, the last thing Josh could make out as he settled into sleep.
* * *
The last thing Josh ever thought to wake up to was the image of breasts shoved in his face. Not exactly tangible breasts, for he had certainly awoken to such a sight after bouts of sex with the girls he'd date. But an actual image of breasts, to be specific, from one of his now uncovered dirty magazines.
“Geez, finally you're up.” Metis' voice behind the folded zine was almost too gleeful.
'. . . should I even ask?'
Swatting the magazine aside, Josh blinked away the crust on his eye lashes. “Metis. . . were you dropped on you head as a baby?” The blonde cringed at the loud, high pitched laugh his words earned.
“If I was, you'd be the biggest jackass in the room,” Metis snickered. He haphazardly crawled over Josh's waking body, nearly kneeing an unsuspecting crotch at least twice. Hands tucked behind his head and he laid down, he gave Josh his dumbest looking grin yet.
“No,” Josh groggily retorted, rubbing his eyes. “You'd still be the bigger jackass.” It took longer than he liked for his eyes to finally focus. When he could at last make out the dim red numbers on his clock, he frowned.
“Metis.”
“Hmm?”
“Did you change the time on my clock?”
“Nope, not this time.”
“. . .”
“Scouts honor, dude.”
“You're not a scout.” Reaching for the cell phone trinket hanging out of Metis' pocket, Josh ignored the protests and lewd accusations as he grabbed the thin flip phone and confirmed the time. “Shit, I was out for five hours?”
“Why the hell d'you think I was glad when you finally woke up?” Metis snorted. Though he continued to rant, no doubt answering any questions he may have had about why the hell a picture of a naked woman was thrust into his face or how the hell Metis had managed to figure out the combination to his locked desk drawer (a perfect home for such naughty magazines, of course), Josh wasn't listening. An arm covering his eyes, he drowned out the incessant banter in his ear and willed his tired brain to think. It was nearly half past ten. The first thought that came to mind was food; they hadn't eaten in almost seven hours, and there was no way Metis would quietly go home after waiting so long without being treated to something. Unless, that is, he's already gone downstairs and helped himself to whatever looked the least harmless to take. Not like anyone would notice a couple missing fruits from the kitchen counter, and if they did catch Metis, at least he could count on his parents feeding him.
As his own stomach started to rumble, Josh could only let out a weary, bothered sigh.
“You know what sounds awesome right now?” he heard Metis shift against him, painfully on cue with his stomach.
“. . . what?”
“A burger. With a crap ton of fries.”
“Yeah,” Josh smirked. “I thought so.”
“How about it, Josh?”
“Yeah, whatever, just give me a moment to wake. . .” Trailing off at the sudden press of lips against his jaw, Josh lifted his arm to see Metis leaning on an elbow, mouth puckered coyly as he planted a slow, steady trail of dry kisses up his face, landing on his hairline.
As he pulled back, a quiet, shallow sigh ghosted past Metis' lips, tingling the tiny hairs above Josh's temple. Their eyes locked in a curious gaze, Josh wet his lips.
“Metis?”
“Hmm?”
“. . . what the fuck's been on your mind?”
Letting out a short, breathy chuckle, Metis rolled to his back once more, fingering the collar of his shirt. “Nothing. Just hurry the hell up and wake up, eh?” He lowered his eyes with a smug, daring smile. “I'm hungry, you know?”
Josh regarding Metis with the most curious of expressions.
He was doing it again. He had to be. The dark glint in his eyes was undoubtedly mischievous.
And the way he was laying. Josh knew an invitation when he saw one.
. . . he wanted to play another game with him. . .
. . . so why not oblige?
Propping himself on his elbows, Josh let his eyes glaze over the sight before him. He wondered in silence when Metis had unbuttoned his shirt. A black ribbed tank clung to skin even paler than the regularly exposed face and arms. Glancing down at hip hugging jeans, distressed denim practically painted onto skinny legs, a lazy smirk crept across his face.
“You look like a perv, staring at me like that,” Metis at last broke the drowsy quiet, the low sensuous husk of his voice barely louder than the hushed bass and mellow vocals, probably repeating for the fourth time since Josh fell asleep, strumming from the stereo.
“You don't seem to mind,” Josh whispered back in a tone not unlike Metis'. Slowly, he dipped his face lower to meet smooth, dry lips. Their kiss was innocent enough. For a moment. Both pairs of eyes fluttered shut as they basked in the warm of their conjoined lips. Metis' hands quietly made their way up the muscled arms that trapped him, eventually finding a place upon broad shoulders. Josh let his fingers crawl to a longer piece of thin, razor cut black hair splayed messily across his pillow. He twirled the lock between his fingers, admiring the fine texture on his calloused skin.
The tingling breath of a sigh made Josh pull away just the slightest. Peeling his eyes open, he smiled at the wanton expression upon his boyfriend’s face. As Metis' hands lowered, tugging the hem of Josh's shirt for a moment before slowly lifting it up, and Josh's chaste kiss was replaced with a greedy run of the tongue, the innocent moment was lost. Gone someplace far off as a different kind of hunger began to rise.
Josh puffed a satisfied breath as Metis' thin lips finally parted. Barely slipping his tongue inside, a shiver in his core interrupted his pursuit; Metis' cold hands had quietly maneuvered down his chest, passing over firm torso to land on his waist. Dark eyes tinted with longing and desire, he gave a sudden squeeze of the tan muscle, short nails digging as hard as they could into Josh's skin before shifting lower still, deftly playing at the button and zipper of Josh's jeans.
Glancing down at those impatient eyes, Josh merely smirked before claiming Metis' mouth with a deep kiss. In an instant, their tongues clashed in a sloppy duel, both teens seemingly hellbent on willing the other to his pace. The hasty strokes of tongue and avarice-driven gnaws of lip, once quite the pleasant surprise to Josh, contrasted a forceful yet pleading need to go slow. When Josh caught the demanding tongue between his lips, he sucked hard, relishing in the sudden moans he heard caught in Metis' throat. Warm breath trickled across his face as he began to milk the swollen, struggling muscle. Releasing his hold just enough for it to relax before suckling the tip back into his mouth. The hands at his waist seemed almost furious as they moved to clutch his sides. Slipping his own arms around Metis' arching body, Josh at last released his hold on Metis' tongue. Bodies pressed together, the heat between them was rising fast. Resting his head in the crook of Metis' neck, Josh chuckled at the moan of relief he heard.
“That wasn't fair,” Metis' whispered loudly.
“That's what you get for going too fast,” Josh growled as he kissed Metis' clammy skin. A faint, salty layer of sweat was already starting to stain him. Just as he lifted a hand to caress the soft black hair once more, Josh grunted in slight surprise as Metis pushed upon his chest with all his strength. Not enough to actually move anything, Josh snickered at his pathetic strength but obliged his scrawny boyfriend nonetheless. Sitting upright, his shirt was practically torn off him, mussing his fairly decent hair and exposing him to the cool air of the room. Watching Metis toss the shirt into one of the many piles of dirty laundry on the ground. Josh clicked his tongue at the returned haste. “Shit, Metis, just take it slow for-”
His mouth clamped shut as the unbuttoned shirt fell from Metis' shoulders and onto bed. The black tank soon followed, lifted carefully above his head. Shifting onto his knees, Metis tilted his face as he gazed at Josh, hands resting on the waistband of his jeans.
“You can't tell me you don't want to get these off me as fast as you can,” Metis all but moaned. Lowering his hands, he ran the tip of his fingers along the his constricted erection. Josh studied Metis' traveling hands, clenching his jaw as they found his crotch. The look of frustration on his face gone, melted into one of exasperated want, his eyes snapped back to Metis'. Just in time to catch that familiar playful glint hidden by a fresh look of lust that mirrored his own.
Shifting on his knees. Josh kept his gaze forward as he neared Metis. He quickly replaced the thin pale hands caressing that stiff bulge with his own. A rush of heat swelled within him as their bare chests brushed against each other, growing still as Metis began to brush light kisses up his jawline.
“Don't complain,” Josh whispered, working at the top button of Metis' jeans, “if you're too worn out to do anything after wards.” And abrupt glide of the tongue across his ear had him nearly breaking the short zipper apart.
“Do I ever, Josh?”
A sudden haste overcame the blonde as he forced the jeans down to Metis' knees. Groping through underwear, he allowed himself a bit of greed, grabbing the ever hardening erection before him. The soft tip had already begun to weep through the stretched fabric. Heeding the short moans his hold received, he reached with quivering fingers into the boxer brief's opening, at last setting the warm erection free. Eyes snapping up to Metis, Josh held his breath as he began to roll the soft, damp tip into his palm. The pleasured, almost pained look on the teen's face sent a short twitch through Josh's own wanting cock. Frowning ever so slightly, head bobbing back with every pump. His noises were quiet enough, gentle throaty moans melting past his quivering lips. It was an undoubtedly painfully arousing sight. And Josh lived for it.
As those soft pale hands smoothed over shoulders once more, Josh felt the passion brewing in his core startled. With his unoccupied hand, he gave a firm yet gentle push against Metis' flat chest, pressing him back upon the bed all the while keeping at his work. His glance slithered over the writhing body before him, biting his lip in satisfaction as Metis began to massage his sore neck. Every tight pump, every twist of the shaft, soft pinch of the head earned a hungry moan. And as Josh began to quicken his pace, he could only let out a marvelous sigh as Metis licked his lips in avarice and started to move his hips with the hand that pleasured him so, thrusting upward with squeezed buttocks as Josh's hold descended upon him, pulling down with arched back as it ascended.
His hand dampened with a scant layer of Metis' precum, Josh paused in his work and brought his hand to his face. His eyes slowly shut as he relished in the bitter yet sweet scent. Wetting his hand with his tongue, he savored the taste that was not unlike the smell. The sound of shuffling beneath him made him look upon his boyfriend once more. As he suspected, the boxer briefs were slowing being peeled away to meet his jeans, then promptly kicked off by the squirming form.
Then, Metis was naked beneath him, legs spread and propped at a low angle. Hands laid above his head. Lips parted beautifully. Hard and moist. Heaving and arching. Practically glaring at him with eyes that dared him to claim the treasure before him.
Suddenly, Josh's own jeans seemed extremely uncomfortable, and with a hurry that seemed entirely uncharacteristic of him, he was removing the last bits of clothes and throwing them to the floor.
The world seemed to come to a halt then. Swallowing in anticipation, Josh felt the heat between them surge unbearably. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the patient, swollen sex dangerously close to his own.
“Josh.”
It was the first word uttered in minutes. A heady, almost pleading call.
Eyes flittering to Metis' face, Josh searched his expression with a caution he could not believe he could still hold at a time like this. But he had to make sure.
Indeed, there was no trace of mischief to be found. Only his longing, wanton glances. And a rising apprehension that Josh knew all too well. He cursed inwardly for even pausing to make sure.
“Don't fuck this up, Josh. Pun entirely fucking intended.”
Pressing his erection against Metis', Josh grit his teeth, stifling a moan as he half glared at Metis. Their smooth shafts running along each others, he bent over Metis, reaching a long arm under his mattress to pull out a plastic bag holding a few condoms and small tube. All at once he felt annoyed and charmed at his boyfriend ill timed attempt at humor. The laughs that tainted his moans did nothing to help. He only ground harder into Metis as he struggled to rip open the flimsy wrapper with his teeth.
“Ever told you. . . you're fucking easy to. . . tease? Oh yeah, earlier. . . ” Metis fought to make a coherent sentence. Josh, in just about the same shape, didn't bother with a retort. Rolling the snug condom on with seemingly record speed, he placed the tube in his mouth, biting the cap as he captured Metis' thighs in firm grips. The abrupt pull he gave Metis' body, spreading his legs even further and lifting his behind off the sheets, elicited a surprised, shallow breath, turning to voiceless heaves as Josh, with as much lustful intensity and control as he could muster, set their gazes in a stone hard hold. Their faces were centimeters apart as Josh began to untwist the cap of the tube with his teeth. Spitting it to the side unceremoniously, he kept his eyes on Metis'.
His left hand traveled once more down Metis' aching cock, passing over his cool sac, and lower still to its final destination. With two fingertips, he pressed the puckering flesh gingerly, earning him a whimper as he dared to pull at the opening with a dull nail. Then with his right hand, he squeezed the tube's slippery liquids upon Metis, dousing his fingers the slightest. The blonde hummed in delight at the panting, writhing form before him. He smirked at the yelp of surprise when he slipped a finger in, quickly followed by another, and really began to pull and fan the flesh out. He broke his gaze only to brush his lips against Metis' ear, whispering a guttural hush lest the other occupants of his house hear his lascivious voice. As his erection became painful with want, Josh finally removed his hand, slicking his fingers about Metis' thigh until he gripped it once more.
“Metis,” he groaned aloud.
“What?” The reply was shortened by a sudden kiss. Suckling on neglected lips and tongue, Josh readied himself before Metis. A sweet, loving smile graced his features as he pulled away at last.
“I promise you. I will not be going easy on your ass.”
The high pitched yelp filled the room, louder than any moan or gasp thus far. Metis instantly bit his own thumb, his eyes squeezed shut and head sunk deep into the mattress. Josh, too, had to clamp his mouth shut as he bucked graciously into Metis. Immediately, he felt the thin legs trembling in his hands and considered stopping to let the two of them compose themselves. But as Metis' hands fell back to the sheets in desperate grasps and his look of pain dissolved into a gutsy grin, he laid his fears to rest.
He had promised, after all. And he never broke any promises.
The first thrust always had to be agonizingly slow. Clenching his jaw, Josh forced himself quiet. Every time, he wanted at least to hear the results of the first minutes of his work: the gentle settling of the mattress springs, the vulgar slicking of flesh, and, most importantly, that sweet, sweet shift in Metis' moans as the initial pain of penetration bloomed in a fire. And then there was the sight. Dear god, the sight. Dating Metis had taught Josh how much of a visually charged person he was. Metis' erection lay still at first, neglected until he saw fit. Occasionally, it would twitch hungrily as Metis bucked and twisted beneath him. Josh's own cock was swollen by their sex, expanded by the rub of lubricant and tight walls mercilessly engulfing him. Choking on a dry moan, Josh squeezed his his shut. He pondered silently how much longer he could last at his slow pace. Feeling Metis' hands slide from his shoulders he peeled his gaze open just the slightest.
He could have sworn he drooled at bit at what he saw. Metis had thrown his hands haphazardly above his head. His face was turned to the side to show off a wanton profile. His flat chest rose and fell with every slow pierce of his intimacy.
“Fuck. . .” His innocent curses were a throaty, high pitched whisper. “Fuck. . . Josh. . . oh god, Josh. . .”
Josh's right hand promptly slipped to Metis' chin. Cupping his pale face, the athlete slipped his thumb between Metis' trembling lips.
“Suck it, Metis,” he ordered gently, struggling to say in command amidst thrusts he didn't realize were quickening. “Like you would if it was my cock.” Metis only whimpered as he caught the thumb in his mouth. He emitted the sparse noises as he flicked his tongue and puckered his lips. His head bobbed as he devoured Josh's digit relentlessly, letting up only when Josh gave a particularly harsh thrust.
Josh was absolutely melting. Soon enough, he retrieved his soaked thumb, propping his hand against Metis' thigh once more to give himself the leverage to go faster, go deeper, to lift up Metis' spry body and violate the fucking emo as hard as his wavering restraint would allow him. . .
He certainly did not expect Metis to launch himself upward; pushing with new-found, no doubt adrenaline fueled strength, Metis pinned Josh against the cold wall.
Josh was sure Metis whispered something then. Probably along the lines of “too damn slow”. Before he could even attempt to register the words, his head went spinning. The moan he expelled was just the slightest louder than he intended. Each attempt to quiet his voice failed pathetically. The one one top of him, the one clenching his ass relentlessly around his erection, saw to that. Metis himself was in no better shape, his voice cracking as he forced Josh to fill him completely.
Yet he did not slow. Of course, he would not slow.
Josh hastily grabbed Metis by the back of his hair, crushing their lips together. He drank every cry of pleasure, swallowed every whine and moan, all the while trading a few vulgar noises of his own making. Amidst their sounds of avarice the smacking of bodies and flesh filled the air. With every dip and fall, Metis tightened as hard as he could, as if desperate to pass some prized threshold. Josh could only respond with an ache of his own. His eyes were pinned to Metis' visage, blissfully distorted by pleasure. He felt and heard the slick slaps of Metis swelling balls against his abs. Soon enough, the temptation to touch was too great not to fulfill.
The abrupt grab forced Metis to slow his hungry pace. Tearing away from Josh's lips, he let out a voiceless moan. Josh wasted no time, falling into a moderate speed of twists and pulls. A smile spread across his face as Metis all but stopped upon him, stilled by this new treatment.
“Metis,” Josh whispered. Willing Metis to continue with a sudden thrust, he bent his neck awkwardly to get a look at the site of their union. “Go on, babe.” And indeed, Metis went on. Regaining his senses long enough to spy the confident curve of Josh's lips, he pressed his trembling hands against Josh's pectorals, giving himself the post he needed to fall back into his rhythm.
Josh nearly lost it at the show Metis provided. His boyfriend was punishingly erotic in his movements. A vulgar circle was established. Metis jammed himself to the brim with Josh' increasingly raw erection only to pull out and into the secure hold of strong, moist hands around his own cock. Reaching for Metis' backside with his free hand, Josh grabbed the pert flesh, his palm giving it a quiet smack as it made contact. The hold gave Josh just the traction he needed to let loose upon Metis.
Their bodies practically trashed against each other.
And then Josh heard it in Metis' voice. That beautiful, shrill, breathy cry.
Found it.
He attacked in a volley of violent staccatos. Ignoring the nails breaking the skin on his shoulders, he watched his vision become a mess of gyrating blurs of bare pale skin and black hair.
“FUCK-”
He wasn't sure who had screamed. But by then it didn't really matter.
The white streams across Josh's chest and stomach, as well as the growing pool along his raw cock, went unseen be either party. Immediately lightheaded and exhausted, Josh kept his bleary eyes on Metis' contorted face.
“Fuck. . . fuck. . . fuck, Josh,” Metis sobbed hoarsely. His dark eyes were also glued to the one before him, unmoving as he at last freed himself of Josh's penetration.
Then he collapsed rather ungracefully upon Josh. And the latter finally felt the cooled liquids smear across his skin.
“You bitch,” Metis' voice cracked with each word.
“Pretty sure that's you, actually,” Josh chuckled in spite of his lack of breath.
“Fuck off, jock.”
“Don't start, emo.” A full minute passed before either of them dared to move. When Metis eventually rolled onto the bed, Josh cringed at the mess. Without a word, he stood up, rolling his condom off with care and making his way to his bathroom.
“Gonna shower?” Metis grumbled tiredly.
“No, Metis. I'm just gonna piss real quick and then take you out to eat covered in your cum.”
“Not gonna invite me?”
Josh glanced over his shoulder. Metis was still laying down among the soiled sheets. His head resting on folded arms. Though he seemed utterly fatigued, his body still rising and falling from heavy breaths, the alert and anticipation in his eyes was undeniable. The fucking emo recovered a little too quickly sometimes.
“. . . no, I'm not,” Josh muttered before turning his back.
“Technically, you aren't telling me I can't come, you know?”
“Metis, you probably can't tell or you pretend not to, but you kinda fucked me raw this time. Sorry, but I don't want my cock anywhere near your ass for the next twenty-four hours.”
Facing forward once more, he stepped into the bathroom.
“I could always lick you clean, Josh.”
Josh froze.
“My tongue would be just soft enough.”
He turned around fully this time. It was a tempting idea, he could not deny.
If it weren't for that stupid stupid stupid face Metis was making.
“. . . is what you wish I would say. Perv.”
Biting his tongue, Josh slammed the bathroom door. He leaned against the cold wood door, listening to that same muffled sounds of cackles.
“. . . shit, Metis, you're an idiot,” he mumbled with a lopsided smile.
- 1
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Idiot