If you go hard, you gotta get on the floor
If you're a party freak then step on the floor
If you're an animal then tear up the floor
Break a sweat on the floor
Yeah we work on the floor
- Jennifer Lopez, "On the Floor"
“They are definitely gonna go fuck on the rooftop.”
Rogue’s voice is low in Sting’s ear as they watch Gray take Natsu’s hand and guide him toward the exit. Sting hums in agreement as Rogue grips Sting’s hips tightly and grinds against his ass. Rogue’s already hard and Sting groans, leaning back and reaching around to pull Rogue closer.
“Well, yeah,” Sting manages, gasping as Rogue’s lips start to trace hot patterns across his neck. “Th-that was the plan.”
Rogue laughs, then sinks his teeth into Sting’s neck.
“Fuck,” Sting hisses. He rolls his hips back against Rogue’s cock, following the beat as best he can while Rogue’s tongue soothes the bite, then travels up behind Sting’s ear.
“You taste good,” Rogue murmurs, catching Sting’s earring between his teeth and tugging gently. “Look good too. These jeans make your ass look amazing.” He thrusts up against Sting again as if to emphasize his point.
Sting hums, reaching up and running his fingers through Rogue’s hair, then tugging gently. Rogue’s hips stutter against Sting’s ass, and Sting grins. It’s hard to get Rogue flustered, but he’s pretty tipsy and Sting has a plan.
“The roof is one thing,” Sting says, tipping his head back and catching Rogue’s mouth with his own. “But I think we can do better than that.”
“Better?” Rogue asks, bringing his hand back down to splay across Sting’s stomach as he runs his tongue along Sting’s lower lip.
“Mm.” Sting grabs Rogue’s hand and drags it lower, tipping his hips up until Rogue’s fingers are on the button of Sting’s jeans. “Better.”
“Fuck.” Rogue groans the word into Sting’s mouth as he digs his fingers into Sting’s hip and grinds against his ass. “H-here?”
The club is dark, lights strobing around them and making it hard to see anything clearly. Nobody’s paying attention to them – everyone is dancing, grinding against each other in a frantic revel of wandering hands and surging hips. Sting can feel the beat in his chest, guiding the push and pull of Rogue against him.
“Here,” Sting says, undoing the button and sliding Rogue’s hand into his pants.
“Christ,” Rogue groans, taking a quick look around them before slipping his fingers under the band of Sting’s boxers. “You sure?”
“Shut up and touch me,” Sting growls, tightening his fingers in Rogue’s hair. “Need you.”
Rogue doesn’t need to be told twice, shifting so he can reach down between Sting’s legs. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he groans, sliding a finger into Sting’s cunt. “You been thinking about this?”
Sting doesn’t answer, just gasps as he rocks back against Rogue’s cock, then presses forward against Rogue’s fingers. Heat coils low in his stomach as Rogue’s fingers find his clit, rubbing slow circles around it as he thrusts against Sting’s ass to the low beat of the music.
“Oh my god,” Rogue whispers, sliding his fingers forward and into Sting’s cunt again. He can’t get very deep from this angle, but the shallow thrusts are enough to have Sting panting and grinding his clit against Rogue’s palm.
“Rogue,” Sting keens, sparks running through his body as he peeks around them again. There are people so close to them – close enough to bump into Rogue if he backed up even a little, but they’re facing the speaker and Sting’s pretty sure it’s too dark for anyone to see what they’re up to.
Sting’s panting breaths spur Rogue on and he curls himself against Sting’s back, fucking his fingers deeper, then slipping them out and running them over Sting’s clit. Sting’s hips jerk as Rogue bites down on his neck again.
“Holy shit, I need you,” Rogue groans, biting Sting’s ear again as his fingers move faster. “Wanna fuck you.”
“Make me come first,” Sting says, tipping his hips up as Rogue breathes heavily against the back of his neck. “Right here.” He’s already embarrassingly close, but the crowd around them makes everything sharper, and Rogue’s so fucking good at this.
Rogue groans, pressing his forehead to Sting’s shoulder as he fucks his fingers in and out faster. The song changes and the beat drops lower, and when Sting reaches out and grabs the edge of the speaker to keep himself standing, the vibration runs through his whole body.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, slipping his own hand down next to Rogue’s so he can rub his clit while Rogue keeps fingering him. They’ve fooled around in public before, but never like this, never with people surrounding them, where a sideways glance could—
“C’mon, baby,” Rogue whispers in Sting’s ear. “Come for me.”
Sting does. He can’t hold in a moan as his hips jerk against Rogue’s fingers, and then he realizes that the music is so loud that it doesn’t even matter. Nobody can hear the cry of, “oh my god,” or the way he pants Rogue’s name as he clenches tight around Rogue’s fingers, shaking as wave after wave runs through him.
“Holy shit,” Rogue groans when Sting finally stops trembling. He’s shaky too, still hard and grinding against Sting’s ass. “I… fuck, I’m gonna—”
Sting shakes his head, reaching back and grabbing Rogue’s hip. “Not yet,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. He slips both of their hands out of his pants and quickly does up the button, then turns to face Rogue.
“Want you to fuck me,” Sting says, wrapping his arms around Rogue’s neck and kissing him, hard. “Need you inside me, wanna make you co—”
Rogue claps his hand over Sting’s mouth, pressing their foreheads together and sucking in a sharp breath though his teeth. “If you keep talking like that, I’m gonna come in my pants right here.”
Sting nips at Rogue’s finger, sucking the tip of it into his mouth. “Well I just did,” he murmurs, “and it was fucking fantastic.” He slides Rogue’s finger out of his mouth, then brings his lips up to Rogue’s jaw.
“I don’t… hnn, don’t think I can wait until we get home,” Rogue groans. Sting grins and kisses below Rogue’s ear.
“I didn’t say anything about home,” he says, bringing his other hand down to palm Rogue through his jeans. “C’mere.”
Rogue looks up, eyes wide, and Sting grins, leaning in and kissing him on the nose. Then he pulls Rogue’s hands, leading him through the crowd and toward a table in the far corner of the bar. It’s not private by any means, but it’s dark enough that when they sit down, most people probably wouldn’t notice them.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” Sting giggles as he pulls Rogue down onto the bench, then shuffles until they’re both at the back of the booth. His eyes are bright and his fingers trace sparks along Rogue’s skin.
“You’re gorgeous,” Rogue murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. Sting kisses back hard, hot and messy, teeth sinking into Rogue’s bottom lip as he reaches down and plays with the button on Rogue’s jeans.
“Can I?” Sting breathes the words against Rogue’s lips and Rogue moans, fingers coming up to comb through Sting’s hair.
“Are you…” Rogue trails off, making a soft sound as Sting’s lips travel down to his neck. “People could see.”
“They might,” Sting agrees, voice low as he draws a pattern across Rogue’s throat with his tongue. “’s pretty dark back here, but…”
Rogue curses, fingers tightening in Sting’s hair as he puts his hand over Sting’s and pops open the button on his jeans. Sting hums happily against Rogue’s neck as he slips his fingers into Rogue’s boxers.
Rogue hisses, tipping his head back as Sting shifts his hand until he can pull out Rogue’s cock and stroke it. He’s sucking a mark into Rogue’s collarbone and the sharp sparks of pain make Rogue gasp and shudder.
“You got a condom?” Sting murmurs, glancing around the bar again as he slides his thumb over the head of Rogue’s cock. Rogue moans, digging into his back pocket with a shaky hand. “Fuck,” Sting whispers. “I kinda wanna blow you, but I also want you in me.”
“Get on my lap,” Rogue growls as he pulls Sting up to kiss him again. There’s a bit of an awkward shuffle while Rogue tears open the package and rolls the condom on, but Sting runs his fingers in gentle patterns up and down Rogue’s thighs the whole time.
Sting grins, pulling back from the kiss and unbuttoning his jeans while Rogue takes another quick glance around the club. Everyone’s preoccupied – grinding on the dance floor or getting wasted at the bar. Nobody notices when Sting tugs his jeans and boxers down to his knees.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Rogue asks. Sting gives Rogue a coy smile and a quick kiss before turning around, bringing one of Rogue’s hands to his hips, and the other down to help guide his cock into Sting.
“Holy shit,” Rogue gasps as Sting settles onto his lap, sinking slowly onto Rogue’s cock. The angle makes it tighter than usual, and Rogue actually has to take a deep breath and count backwards from ten in order to keep himself from coming the first time Sting shifts.
“Rogue,” Sting moans, rocking his hips back in Rogue’s lap. Rogue slides his hands to Sting’s hips, rubbing his thumbs over the dimples in Sting’s back as Sting grinds down on his cock.
Rogue leans forward, wrapping his arm around Sting’s stomach and nipping at Sting’s ear again. “You feel so good,” Rogue murmurs, fingers digging into Sting’s thigh. “So fucking pretty.” He groans, pressing his forehead to Sting’s shoulder as Sting tightens around his cock. “All these people here, but I’m the only one that gets to have you like this.”
Sting moans, biting his lip and rocking back and forth on Rogue’s cock as Rogue whispers in his ear. “Fuck, babe,” he moans. “J-just you. Only you.” Sting takes Rogue’s hand from his stomach and guides it down under the table, guiding Rogue’s fingers to his clit. “Th-there, yeah…”
Rogue curls around Sting’s back and kisses his neck, then thrusts up into him, stroking his thumb over Sting’s clit at the same time. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs as Sting leans forward, pressing his hands flat against the table and lifting himself up just enough to keep Rogue’s cock inside him. Then he sinks back down again with a soft moan.
The noise Rogue makes is wrecked and sinful, and he guides Sting’s hips up again, holding him down and grinding against him when Sting rocks back down onto his cock. Rogue knows just how to touch Sting, how to move, how to fuck him, and Sting’s honestly ready to just let Rogue bend him over the table, regardless of who sees them.
“Gods, babe, you’re so fucking tight,” Rogue groans as Sting spreads his legs wider, leaning as far forward as he can until he’s resting on his forearms on the table. Rogue thrusts up into him, moaning Sting’s name over and over again to the beat of whatever song is playing.
Then Rogue reaches up and slips his fingers into Sting’s mouth, whispering, “suck,” in his ear.
Sting moans around Rogue’s fingers, tasting himself on them, running his tongue up and down just like when he sucks Rogue’s cock. He pictures himself on his knees under the table, Rogue thrusting into his mouth, and he files that idea away for next time they’re here.
“Rogue,” Sting gasps as Rogue pulls his fingers out of Sting’s mouth and immediately brings them down to Sting’s ass, rubbing slow circles for just a second before slipping one finger inside. “Holy shit, fuck, yes…”
“Wanna make you come again,” Rogue pants in Sting’s ear, adding another finger and thrusting shallowly as Sting grinds down on his cock. “I’m so fucking close, I c-can’t…”
Sting keeps one hand on the table and brings the other down between his legs, rubbing himself as he rocks back against Rogue’s fingers. He’s close, but he’s pretty sure Rogue can’t hold out quite long enough.
Then Sting looks up, gaze drifting across the crowd, and he catches someone’s eye.
It’s a young guy, probably their age, dancing with his girlfriend and staring at Sting over her shoulder. His eyes are wide as he grabs the girl’s ass, grinding against her while he watches Sting fuck himself on Rogue’s cock.
Sting comes almost immediately, face screwing up as he digs his teeth into his lower lip, and he knows that the guy can tell exactly what’s happening. Part of him wants to hide it, try to brush it off as an incredibly erotic lap dance, but the other part of him just doesn’t care.
“Rogue,” he moans, fingers scraping against the table as he clenches around Rogue’s cock. When he opens his eyes, the guy is still staring at him, watching Sting come, seeing him pant and whimper as he rubs his clit and says Rogue’s name over and over like a prayer.
Rogue’s not far behind, digging his teeth into Sting’s shoulder and gripping his hip hard enough to bruise. He shakes beneath Sting, fucking hard into his cunt as he fingers Sting’s ass and curses against his skin. By the time he stills, Sting’s still not done. He gasps and trembles and shakes as Rogue kisses his shoulder and whispers to him in a broken, wrecked voice.
“That’s it, baby,” Rogue murmurs, “you feel so good when you come.”
Eventually Sting stops shaking as his breathing slowly comes back to normal. Rogue wraps both arms around his waist and holds him close, pressing his chest to Sting’s back as he kisses his neck.
“You’re amazing,” Rogue whispers. Sting hums happily, tipping his head back to kiss Rogue, then shifting until he can slide off Rogue’s lap and back onto the bench. He tugs his jeans up with trembling hands, trying his best to tuck his shirt in properly as Rogue does the same.
When Sting looks out at the crowd again, the guy is nowhere to be seen. Sting’s cheeks are still burning, and he reaches over to grab Rogue’s hand.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, leaning over and kissing Rogue’s cheek. Rogue squeezes his hand and nods, digging in his pocket for his phone.
“Your place or mine?” Rogue asks.
Sting takes a moment to look at Rogue – dark hair curling around the back of his neck, eyes rimmed with black liner, small smile on his lips as he flips open the app to call a cab. He’s gorgeous and perfect, and Sting is so in love with him.
“Yours,” Sting says, shifting until Rogue’s arm is wrapped around him. He’s sure that as soon as he tells Rogue about the guy watching them, Rogue’s gonna be ready to go again, and Sting’s not interested in listening to Natsu and Gray while he fucks Rogue into the mattress.