Chapter Text
“Remember what I said, Simon, s’about feeling good today, okay?”
“I know.” Simon snaps, dry and sharp.
“Then why’re ye staring at the mirror like ye want it tae shatter?” Johnny replies, lips stretched into a little smirk.
Simon grumbles, nothing loud, but enough that Johnny can feel it from where Simon’s resting on his chest. Johnny says nothing more, just keeps running his hands up and down Simon’s open thighs, trying to soothe the tension out of him. It works, slowly, and he notices Simon relaxing back into him, Simon’s back pressing entirely on his chest.
Being able to see Simon like this, legs spread open on the floor in front of him, his torso leaning against Johnny, flushed cheeks and avoidant eyes, it’s something. There’s still this grace, this power to Simon, it never really goes away, but it’s being put aside, so that something else can come out, something a little more selfish, a little more pleasurable and needy. Something that Johnny loves to see.
“There you go, doing good.” Johnny praises, eyes roaming all over Simon in the mirror. His shirt’s off, offering the most delicious view of the blush that runs down his face, down his neck and covers his shoulders. It’s the lightest shade of pink, barely dark but so beautiful across the white skin. Simon’s nipples aren’t hard yet, not in the warm air of the studio, but Johnny’s in no rush to get them there.
First, he needs Simon to relax into his touch, to let himself go a little, so that Johnny can have a chance at doing what he has planned. And oh, he has such delicious things planned for Simon today.
Slowly roaming over Simon’s thighs, one of Johnny’s hand makes its way up higher and higher with each pass, coming closer to Simon’s clothed crotch. He can feel Simon tensing slowly beneath his touch, so Johnny slows, pressing praise and words of encouragement to the skin of Simon’s neck, lips against the soft, warm skin. It makes Simon shiver, just a little bit, whether from the words or the touch, Johnny isn’t too sure. What he does know is that Simon’s refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror. It isn’t that big of a deal, their first session featured the mirror rather heavily, and today it’s mostly there so that Johnny can look at him, and he doesn’t mind giving Simon a bit of a break, so he doesn’t push.
It startles Johnny a little when Simon’s hand grabs his wrist just as it reaches the hinge of Simon’s thigh, but Johnny lets him. Simon holds him still for a moment, then oh so slowly pushes Johnny’s hand against his crotch, letting Johnny feel the hot press of his slowly hardening length. Simon lets out a breath, not exactly a sigh, but close, and lets his eyes flutter shut.
There.
Johnny keeps his hand still, gently cupping Simon, allowing him to rock his hips forward in small, almost imperceptible motions. Slowly, Simon starts filling out beneath his palm, growing hot and heavy. It’s a beauty to behold, no matter that Johnny had gotten his mouth on it a few weeks ago. He remembers, suddenly, the piercings that span the length of Simon’s cock and can’t help to rock his own hips forward, managing the tiniest bit of friction against his jeans and Simon’s ass. Simon’s breath hitches, but his hips keep rocking into Johnny’s hand, more and more evident in the slow rocking of his body.
Soon, Simon’s breathing quickens a fraction, and he squeezes Johnny’s wrist where he’s still holding Johnny’s hand across his front. Johnny takes it as permission and cups Simon a little firmer, offering little squeezes and friction to Simon’s mostly hard cock. Simon’s hips respond in kind, thrusts coming sharper and stronger, so Johnny just holds his hand solid and lets Simon rock into it.
“Think you can come like this?” Johnny whispers, lips pressing against Simon’s pulse point.
The words pull a shiver out of Simon, and his hips press into Johnny’s hand firmer now. His pace quickens, and Johnny knows Simon’s thighs will start hurting soon. His hips and back will feel it too, probably, from the little movements he’s doing to keep pressing himself into Johnny’s hand.
There’s a minute of silence as Simon contemplates the question, never stopping his movements. He lets out a big sigh before opening his mouth, as if letting the word come out of his mouth is physically painful. It seems to take a lot out of him, and Johnny respects his silence, waits until Simon finally speaks.
“Yeah…” Simon answers, his voice low and breathy. Simon rocks his hips harder into Johnny’s hand and lets his head fall back a little more, opening up the pale skin of his throat for Johnny.
“Good boy,” Johnny whispers, pressing kisses against the soft skin of Simon’s neck, never pressing hard or leaving marks, no matter how much he wants Simon to walk out of his flat with a collar of bruises marking him as Johnny’s. Instead, Johnny presses harder against Simon’s cock, thumb rubbing up and down the seam of Simon’s thigh through the fabric.
It makes another one of those little breaths fall out of Simon, and Johnny relishes in it; in the quiet ways that Simon seems to be finally falling apart underneath him. One particular thrust of Simon’s hip brings the tip of Johnny’s finger along the head of Simon’s cock, where Johnny groans as he discovers the lovely wet spot growing on the fabric of Simon’s boxers.
“Wet for me already?” Johnny teases, a smile on his lips as he speaks against the skin of Simon’s neck.
“Fuck off,” Simoon replies, not an ounce of animosity in his voice.
He’s getting close, Johnny can tell. The movement of his hips is starting to get a little desperate, and every movement brings out those little sighs that Johnny loves to hear. He probably doesn’t have long until Johnny manages a first orgasm out of Simon, and it looks like it’s heading to be a good one too, if the slow build-up and barely there friction against Simon’s clothed dick have anything to say about it.
Johnny keeps mumbling praise against Simon’s skin, relishing in the way the words, he’s sure it’s the words now, bring little shivers out of Simon every so often. Simon’s thighs are bunching up, tension visible in the muscle, rippling underneath the pale scarred skin.
Johnny doesn’t let up, keeps his hand pressed against Simon’s cock until Simon’s thrusts become irregular and quick, and Johnny still doesn’t let up then. He lets Simon fuck into the curve of his hand, warm and tight against Simon’s dick, until Simon’s muscles lock up and shivers wreck through his body.
Simon’s cock throbs in Johnny’s hand, and he holds it, offering rhythmic presses to rock Simon through his orgasm, until Simon’s head falls back on Johnny’s shoulder completely and his thighs fall lax between Johnny’s, spread on the floor in front of them.
Like this, Simon is stunning. His throat’s wide open and pale, and the view it gives Johnny in the mirror is alluring. He wants to bite, to press his teeth and claim until the skin is bruised, until it’s no longer pale and white, until the scars there are covered with his bruises, his bites, his marks.
Simon lets out a long sigh, and all those thoughts fall out of Johnny’s head. He isn’t allowed. Simon comes first. In more than one way, and more than once hopefully, Johnny jokes in his head, but deep down he knows it’s serious. Simon isn’t his. Doesn’t mean they can’t pretend for a little while, but at the end of the night, Simon isn’t climbing the stairs to his flat and sitting down in front of the telly with a cuppa and Johnny. The thought makes the scar on his head throb a little, but he ignores it, reminding himself that he needs to drink more water soon.
“That was beautiful, Simon,” Johnny whispers, kissing behind Simon’s ear softly.
Simon hums, low and soft, and Johnny resumes the caressing pattern of his hands, one still on Simon’s thigh, but the other climbing to his chest and tracing up and down Simon’s ribs. He keeps his hands wandering for now, slowly tracing Simon’s skin and allowing for his breathing to calm down. He takes his time recording all the scars along Simon’s body, running his fingers along the bumpy skin. He’s careful, knows that some of them are more recent, and more painful, than others, but he keeps his touch feather-light, and Simon’s breathing slows down.
“You did so good for me,” Johnny mumbles against skin.
It takes a while, for Simon to completely relax into his touch, and nod against Johnny’s shoulder. That’s Johnny’s cue to keep going, to let his hand run down to the elastic of Simon’s boxers and slip below, pushing the fabric aside to run his fingers through Simon’s pubes, petting the hairy skin for a minute before letting his fingers inch lower until he meets the base of Simon’s cock.
Simon takes it like a champ, doesn’t even flinch despite how sensitive he must be, so shortly after his first orgasm. Instead, he just lets Johnny run his finger over his soft thigh, just touching the skin gently until Johnny can feel Simon’s cock twitch at the touch. Johnny presses one more kiss to Simon’s neck and wraps his hand around Simon, the tip of his finger brushing the wet spot in Simon’s boxers. Johnny uses Simon’s cum to rub a slick finger over the head of Simon’s cock, and that makes Simon jerk. The head of his cock, where it’s crossed by metal, is much more sensitive than the rest.
Johnny doesn’t stop, just slows down a little, letting his fingers rest, almost still, on Simon’s cock and grinds the bottom of his palm against the base of Simon’s cock. That pulls a small moan out of Simon, more of a breath than anything, but it’s progress, and it sounds divine anyway. Simon’s mouth is so close to Johnny’s ear that he can feel the rush of hot air across his ear, and it’s only turning Johnny on more, to be able to hear even the slightest breath out of Simon’s mouth like this.
Slowly, Johnny starts moving his fingers across Simon’s cock, his thumb rubbing from the base to halfway up, when the tip of his fingers hit the underside of Simon’s sensitive cock-head He’s trying not to play with Simon’s piercings, but it’s a hard task, especially when they pull such sweet sounds out of Simon, making him inhale sharply whenever one of Johnny’s finger gets stuck on one, pulling or pushing just enough to make Simon feel good. Johnny’s index runs along a vein on the underside of Simon’s cock and every time his fingers hit the head of Simon’s cock, pushing the metal going through it, Simon lets out the tiniest breath of air out of his mouth.
Simon’s cock is clearly sensitive, but he takes it, lets Johnny run his fingers all over his cock and piercings slowly, feeling it twitch and throb beneath his fingers. Johnny takes his time, squeezing the length and letting the soft touches bring Simon back to half hardness.
When Simon’s boxers are tight with more than just Johnny’s hand, Johnny takes it as his cue to push down the elastic over Simon’s thighs until the fabric is bunched up loosely around Simon’s thighs, his cock free and standing at half mast. The tip is wet with cum and pre and it’s a pretty pink. It looks delicious where it rests against Simon’s thigh, half hard and leaking a little against the Prince Albert.
Johnny has to take a sharp breath when he sees a metallic sliver shining from Simon’s under-cock in the mirror. It’s just as alluring as the last time he saw them, except now Simon is sensitive beneath his fingers and it doesn’t take much to get him leaking from the tip again, a steady stream of pre getting messy on Johnny’s fingers as he rubs them around Simon’s cock head. Simon lets out another breath at that, louder than the last, and they’re starting to sound more and more little moans or whines out of Simon’s mouth and it sounds good, sounds so good that Johnny keeps pushing, keeps rubbing his fingers underneath Simon’s cock-head. It’s a slow but insistent rub, one that has Simon firming up between Johnny’s fingers, slowly but surely getting full.
Johnny still can’t believe he gets to have Simon like this, vulnerable in his hand, trusting Johnny to give him pleasure again and again. It’s such a long way from the Simon who barely allowed himself to let his muscles fall lax on the massage table, barely let Johnny do his damn job of helping him, but he’s so pliant now, letting Johnny do whatever he wants to Simon and his sensitive little cock. Not that it’s little by any means, but it’s cute, like this, all dark pink in Johnny’s hands, twitching every time a finger catches one of Simon’s piercings, pulling on the already sensitive skin.
It doesn’t take much for Simon to be close, so sensitive after his last orgasm, he’s almost riding the edge again, letting Johnny’s nimble finger balance him on the thin line of too much, letting him pull at the pleasure that builds inside of Simon’s stomach.
Johnny’s tempted to play with Simon’s balls, just a little, to hold them and caress the soft skin of them. He’s tempted to press a finger behind them, into a spot he knows will make Simon tumble over the edge, but he holds himself back. Maybe he can make Simon come by playing with just his balls, later, when he’s completely relaxed and overly sensitive.
Instead, Johnny keeps playing with the metal that goes through the head of Simon’s cock, pulling and pushing, almost making it fuck the pierced hole through Simon’s cock-head. There’s not much room, only a couple of millimetres, but it’s enough to have Simon’s hips twitching into the touch and little breaths falling out of his mouth and yeah, they’re definitely heading towards little whines now, overstimulated as Simon is.
Johnny hopes it feels as good as it looks, and he hopes that Simon would have stopped him otherwise, but there’s been no movement to stop him, not even an instinctive pull back of his hips, trying to get away from the sensation.
“Doing so good, Simon,” Johnny whispers against the skin of Simon’s neck, now damp with the kisses and little kitten licks that Johnny can’t stop pressing to the skin. Simon tastes good for fucks’ sake, and he doesn’t really want to take his mouth off him, not when it allows him to hear Simon’s little breath vibrate in his throat as they come out.
“Are yae getting close?” It’s half a taunt, half a question. Johnny wants to know how close Simon is, but he can see it too, in the clenching of Simon’s thighs, in the slow rocking of his hips into Johnny’s hand.
Simon hums at first, the vibration loud against Johnny’s lips, and his mouth stays open, panting into the air right next to Johnny’s ear. There’s a moment, where Johnny keeps playing with Simon’s head, rubbing his finger against the slit and pushing at Simon’s Prince Albert at the same time, and it’s only when Johnny relents a little that Simon breathes out an answer.
“Close…” It’s a whisper, but it sounds so much louder against Johnny’s ear.
“Yeah?” Johnny teases a little, his voice still soft and quiet against Simon’s neck. “Come whenever ye need, alright love?”
“Uh-Hun,” Simon answers, his voice reduced to a breathy little thing, rough and out of breath.
Johnny keeps his movements going, stroking Simon slowly, his hand wrapped around Simon’s cock loosely, twisting at the head and rubbing his fingers against the slit, pulling those little whines out of Simon ever so often.
It won’t be long until Simon comes. His thighs are shaking, and his pulse is rapid against Johnny’s chest, heart hammering against his skin. Simon’s still loose and lax against him, hips and thighs only clenching when Johnny’s fingers tease the tip of his dick. It isn’t too hard to feel the quickening of Simon’s breath with the hand roaming Simon’s chest, and the mirror gives him the best view of the slight tremble of Simon’s thighs where they spread in between his.
Simon looks gorgeous as always, and Johnny can’t tear his eyes from him, from the way his cock jumps in his hold until Simon’s breath catches in his throat and he’s coming, a long whine almost torn from his throat as he spills all over Johnny’s hand and his own stomach. Long stripes of white pain Simon’s stomach as his thighs tremble, hips rocking into Johnny’s grip. Johnny holds on, jerking Simon off through his orgasm until his hips shake away from the feeling of his fingers, and he lets Simon’s cock go.
“Beautiful Simon,” Johnny whispers against the skin of his neck. He’s not lying either. Simon does look fucking good. He’s panting, trying to catch his breath and he can’t seem to help the little twitch of his hips and his cock once in a while, overstimulated and sensitive even where it rests against his own thigh. The piercing across the top of his dick is covered in cum, and it shines in the light, glistening in the mirror for both of them to admire.
“So good for me.” Johnny praises him, needing him to know how good he was, how beautifully he fell apart between Johnny’s fingers. It doesn’t matter if they don’t go further than this, although Johnny would bet that Simon will want more from him. Johnny would be happy with just this, pulling two orgasms out of Simon in such a short period of time. Getting Simon to trust him like that, really, that was the bit that made Johnny proud.
It takes longer for Simon to calm down this time, for his breath to slow down and his thighs to stop trembling. His head is still thrown back on Johnny’s shoulder and he doesn’t seem to want to change that, so Johnny lets him be and presses soft kisses and praise against his skin.
“If you need to stop here, we stop,” Johnny reminds him. “Nothing wrong with tapping out.”
There’s nothing but Simon’s loud breathing for a while, and it does nothing to calm the hot throb of Johnny’s own cock, tucked away in his pants and straining to get free. It’s not about him though; it’s about Simon, so he’s got to content himself with pressing against the small of Simon’s back, getting friction whenever Simon rocks his hips backwards.
“No.” Came the reply, a light breath across Johnny’s ear. “Wanna keep going.”
“Yeah?”
“S’good,” Simon murmurs.
That’s Johnny’s cue to let his hands roam across Simon’s chest, fingers light on the scarred skin. There’s no rush to get to another orgasm, and waiting longer might actually make Simon less sensitive, so Johnny doesn’t mind taking his time. He’s going to wait until Simon gives him the go-ahead, at least until he touches him again. In the meantime, though, Johnny can touch him elsewhere, like the deliciously pink nipples that are hard and erect against Simon’s chest. They’re a delightful shade of pink and they stand proud on Simon’s chest, just begging for Johnny’s thumbs to run across them.
When he does, he’s rewarded with a tiny breath from Simon and a shiver that runs through him. Simon doesn’t pull away, though, doesn’t retreat back into Johnny’s chest. If Johnny had to say, he’d even put it on the table that Simon arched into the touch, just a little. So Johnny does it again, with a little more force and runs his thumbs over Simon’s nipples. This time, it’s clear. Simon is pushing his chest out, just a small twitch of his muscles, but he’s pushing into Johnny’s hands.
“That’s not too much yet?” Johnny asks, half to reassure himself that he’s not pushing too much and half to hear what Simon has to say about this.
“Feels good,” is what Simon has to say about it.
God, he’s so fucking perfect.
“Looks like you enjoy a little bit of pain in your pleasure then?” Johnny teases, a soft smile on his lips. “Most people tap out after one, y’know.”
There’s a long silence. Then, a little breath out of Simon.
“Oh.”
“S’alright. Nothin’ wrong with it.”
Simon nods on his shoulder and turns his head to the crook of Johnny’s neck, hiding his face in there, but he doesn’t try to stop Johnny’s wandering hands, doesn’t stop him when Johnny runs his thumb on his nipples again, and again, and again. He just lets Johnny pull all those little breaths out of him, little noises that are starting to sound like whines and moans.
Simon looks gorgeous like this, and even with his face hidden in Johnny’s neck, Johnny can’t help but admire him in the mirror. His nipples are flushing under Johnny’s insistent touches, but the rest of him is boneless, completely lax against Johnny. His arms aren’t even holding Johnny’s wrists anymore; they just lie over Johnny’s, his hands resting on his thighs.
He must be starting to be a little sore, especially with two orgasms and some humping, and it looks like he is, his thighs are shaking a little and oh—
He’s starting to get hard again.
Fuck that’s hot.
Simon’s getting hard with nothing but Johnny’s touch on his nipples, not even tugging at them or twisting, just a little bit of light pressure. That speaks to how sensitive he must be and it makes Johnny grin at the mirror.
“Yae’re getting hard again, love,” Johnny says, just so that Simon looks away from his neck for a minute and when he does, well… It’s fucking gorgeous. His eyes go wide for a second and one of his hands lifts, as if to go hold himself, before he thinks better of it and lets his hand fall back against his thigh, letting out a whine, a proper one this time, as he lets his head fall back against Johnny.
“Wanna come again?” Johnny asks, as soft as he can be without his breath shaking from just how turned on Simon makes him. “Yae think yae can go again? S’alright if yae don’t wanna.”
It doesn’t matter what Simon wants because Johnny’s just about ready to burn the world down to give it to him. He knows it’s not necessary, but there’s something tugging at his chest, especially when he gets to see Simon like this, all relaxed for him and by his own hands.
Simon gets like this on the massage table too, but it’s rare. It takes the right combination of a long session, just enough pressure and a little something else that Johnny presumes is linked with Simon’s mood. Or something like that.
“Yeah.”
Simon’s voice pulls Johnny out of his thoughts, and he’s absolutely delighted to hear that Simon is willing to go again, because deep down, this means more time together.
“A’ight.” Johnny agrees quickly, pressing a kiss to Simon’s neck. “We can stay like this, or we can get on the couch and I can get my fingers inside yae so yae can come again without me having to touch yaer pretty little cock?”
Johnny doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, that Simon’s cock is twitching and filling up again. It’s slow, but Simon’s firming up against his thigh and it’s a delight to see him twitch when Johnny calls his cock pretty and little.
Simon takes some time to think, but really, the decision was made the moment his cock twitched at Johnny’s suggestion.
“Couch, please.” He says, voice starting to be thin.
“Yeah?” Simon nods. “Alright, let’s get you up then,” Simon whines at the words and at the shake of his thighs when he tries to get up, and Johnny has to hold himself back from laughing at him a little. Instead, he puts his hand on Simon’s back and thighs to help push him up a little.
“Just need up enough to lie down on the couch, darling.” Johnny encourages, helping Simon just enough for him to get his upper body to fall on the couch, his legs following afterwards.
Johnny can’t help but chuckle quietly at the way that Simon’s eyes close immediately and his body relaxes into the firm cushions of his couch. It’s almost cute. Even if he’s so big and takes up so much space on the couch, tucked away like this into the cushions, Simon looks small, and so damn enticing. Johnny doesn’t want to waste any time really, so he joins Simon on the couch, manoeuvring himself in the tight space between Simon and the back of the couch.
It’s warm in there, especially with his clothes still on against the furnace that is Simon’s muscular body and Johnny almost doesn’t want to do anything, except when he raises his head on his palm, elbow in the couch, he can see Simon in the mirror. He’s splayed out like a meal, in all his length and pressing against Johnny in one warm line. It’s as comfortable as it is hot, especially when Simon doesn’t really flag as they move, just stays half hard against his thigh.
There’s a shuffle to get lube, then Johnny’s pulling at Simon’s upper leg and hooking it over his bent knee, opening up Simon’s legs for him to touch and look at. And Fuck if it isn’t a sight. Simon shivers in the cold air, but does nothing, just presses his body back a little harder against Johnny’s. There’s not really any clearer permission to start than that, so Johnny lubes up a couple of fingers and presses them against Simon’s rim, softly, delicately.
Simon lets out a soft exhale and nods against the armrest. It’s permission, again, but Johnny doesn’t want to go fast; he wants to take his time. The aim of the game is to make Simon feel good after all, not just to barrel through orgasms with no other considerations.
So Johnny takes his time, just pressing his single finger against Simon’s rim, taking his time to loosen Simon up, to push and press softly, at the rim, at the skin around it, at the hair and if the tip of his finger goes it, just a little, digging into the muscle of Simon’s ass, then it’s neither here nor there. It does, however, take the breath out of Simon, just for a second, and then the pressure of Johnny’s finger is gone again.
Johnny spends a few minutes like that, just pulling little breaths out of Simon, pushing at his rim without really dipping his finger inside, until he’s sure that there’s no way in hell Simon’s hole offers any resistance and then, only then, does he push a finger in. It’s slow, only to the first knuckle and then back out, lube making the slide slick and painless for Simon.
This first knuckle makes Simon squirm a little, breath shocked out of him. He’s taken more quicker, hell Johnny’s given him more and quicker, when he’s on the massage table and rutting against it there’s no time to wait, but like this, like this Simon is vulnerable and maybe a little sensitive because of his two orgasms and it makes him gasp at only a knuckle and Johnny wouldn’t change that for the world.
He looks good like this, mouth parting for little breaths and his thighs splayed wide for Johnny, but his hands don’t seem to know what to hold onto and they’re running across the couch like they’re going to find something. Johnny can’t help but feel like he should be holding Simon, except that to hold him he’d have to sacrifice his view in the mirror and be content with simply feeling the little breaths that Simon takes and that’s… fine. It hits him that it’s fine.
So Johnny lays his head down on the couch, pressing a soft kiss to Simon’s shoulder once he gets there and snakes his arm underneath Simon’s head and opens his palm for Simon to grab onto. Which he does. Immediately. Both hands holding on to it. He’s holding on to Johnny like he’s a lifeline and he’s not even got a full finger inside Simon.
Simon must be far gone if that’s how he feels. Johnny distantly thinks that he should be more careful, that he should check on Simon, make sure he’s not pushing too much, but there’s not much he can do from his position, and there’s no way he’s moving Simon again, not when he starts to make little gasping noises as Johnny rubs his finger against Simon’s rim again. Johnny tells himself that he’ll be careful, that he’ll go slow, and that’s going to be enough for now.
True to his word, Johnny goes slow. He continues to slowly press against Simon’s rim now and again, dipping in one knuckle and nothing more, until Simon’s panting from just this finger. Then, after adding some more lube, Johnny dips in a little more, to the second knuckle this time, and the breath it pulls out of Simon… Fuck. Johnny would die to hear it again, except he doesn’t need to, he just needs to push his finger to the third knuckle, Simon’s rim flush with his hand and there it is again. It’s a whine and a moan mixed into a stuttering breath, Simon lurching forwards just a little, his body recoiling from the pleasure, or maybe the pain, the sensation of it all.
“Shhh, yae’re doing good, love, yae’re doing so good. Taking me so well.” Johnny praises, his lips soft against the skin of Simon’s shoulder.
“Thank you.” Comes out of Simon’s mouth, small and almost too quiet, and it takes the breath out of Johnny that Simon just does that.
“Yae don’t need to thank me, Simon.”
There’s a small nod from Simon but not much else, so Johnny just keeps going with his mix of pressure against Simon’s rim and actual press of a finger. Sometimes he goes deep, sometimes just a knuckle, and there’s no real rhythm, so Johnny knows it must be driving Simon mad a little, that there’s no rhyme or reason to what Johnny’s finger is doing. There is actually a rhyme and reason, but Simon doesn’t need to know that, he just needs to relax, to let himself be at the mercy of the pleasure Johnny is giving him. It’s as much an exercise in trust as it is sexual in nature and it makes Johnny’s heart ache that Simon is that comfortable with him.
Johnny keeps moving his finger, never more than one for now. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Simon, knows that it must feel like more than it actually is with the sensitive way that Simon twitches whenever Johnny brushes against his prostate.
Johnny doesn’t actually press on it, just brushes it with the tip of his finger again, and again and again, until Simon is doing those little whimpers again, clutching at Johnny’s hand. His thighs are trying to close on their own, shaking against where Johnny holds them open with his own legs and even Simon’s core is jumping. From where he is, Johnny can see the muscle of Simon’s back stretching and contracting like crazy and it is a little distracting. Ok, it’s a lot distracting, but he’s good at multitasking.
After a particularly shaky jolt, Johnny decides that it’s time to give Simon what he needs and presses the pad of his finger directly into Simon’s prostate, making these little rocking motions into it, Johnny’s knuckles pressing into the fat of Simon’s ass without relenting. It pulls almost pained little whimpers out of Simon, his breath shaking just as much as his legs. Then, Simon’s muscles completely lock and Johnny knows that he’s just on the edge of coming.
“Yellow,” Simon whispers.
What.
Johnny locks up, all of his muscles clenching immediately, his body acting before he even knows what’s happening, pulling his fingers out of Simon and turning him over a little, just so that Johnny can look at Simon’s face.
“Hey, hey, yae’re okay. What’s wrong, my love?” Johnny whispers, one hand steady on Simon’s shoulder, the other still stuck beneath his head. There’s this almost haze like quality to Simon’s eyes and if Johnny didn’t know better he’d think that Simon was falling into subspace, but instead there’s the clench of Simon’s muscles and then he’s closing his eyes really hard, shutting himself off from the world before shaking his head a little, as if trying to shake off a bad thought.
“Hey, Simon. I need yae tae talk tae me. What’s wrong?”
When Simon doesn’t answer, Johnny starts to panic a little bit more, especially because Simon’s breathing is not slowing down, and the tremble in his thighs is not calming either, and Simon could actually be dropping, and Johnny’s got no idea what the fuck is wrong, so he doesn’t know how to help, and… Shit.
“Deep breaths, love,” Simon inhales, his lungs stuttering through it, but he’s breathing, he’s trying. “There yae go doing a good job. Just like that. Yae’re doing so good for me.”
“Not helping.” Simon’s voice comes through, tight and shaky.
“Okay. Just Breathe.” Johnny shifts registers, goes lower in his throat, a little colder, a little less panicked. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Simon’s still breathing, even if he’s not answering and that in itself feels like a win, so Johnny lets it slide, just keeps looking at Simon, trying to decipher what’s going on.
Simon’s still somewhat hard, although his legs have stopped trembling and his hands aren’t clutching at the couch anymore. His breathing is coming down slowly. Good. That’s good.
“What’s happening to me?” Simon manages to choke out after a moment of laboured breathing.
It only serves to confuse Johnny even more, because that’s a loaded question and Johnny’s not even really sure what Simon really means.
“My head,” Simon adds. He must have seen the confusion painted on Johnny’s face. “It’s… It feels. It’s like I’m away.”
Like he’s away? That’s both vague and oddly specific and there’s only one thing that jumps to Johnny’s mind because what else could it be, really…
“Are yae… Did yae get in subspace?” Johnny tries, keeping his voice neutral. The last thing he needs is to make Simon think it’s a bad thing.
“The fuck is that?”
“Subspace? It’s… well, it’s different for everyone, but basically it would be when there’s just a little too much sensation. I think most often it’s too much pleasure for a sub’s brain to deal with and it can make them a little floaty, like they’re just there and they can just feel the pleasure, but it all blends together.” Johnny breathes out, letting Simon some time to compute the words.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you’re feeling right now,” Johnny adds when Simon doesn’t say anything. “It’s a lot after two orgasms like that, and so close to a third. You’re probably really sensitive to touch right now, so anything that normally would be a lot might be too much for your brain, and you just float.”
He’s rambling, Johnny knows he’s rambling, but Simon hasn’t told him to shut it yet, and there’s no look on his face that says he’s uncomfortable; if anything, Simon looks a little better now, a little reassured.
“Feels too much like torture.” Is what comes out of Simon’s mouth after a long silence.
The quiet that comes afterwards is so heavy that Johnny could have heard a pin drop.
That’s… a lot.
Johnny’s not too sure what to do with the information, what Simon wants him to do with it, so he does what feels like the best thing: he asks.
“Do you want to talk about it? Let me understand?” He’s almost begging. He would beg, for this, to be able to know Simon just a little bit more, to be able to help next time, to avoid it first of all. “Let me help you, please?”
Simon sighs, but then he takes a breath and steels himself.
“When you get tortured for a while, at some point your brain clocks out. Decides it doesn’t want to be there anymore and fucks off. And with it, it takes a lot of things. Sensation, thirst and hunger, some of the pain, cold, it also takes away your self-defence. Leaves you fucked. Unable to make anything stop. There’s no energy to make it stop anyway. They usually make sure of that.”
Simon takes a big breath, trying to get his voice under control. It wasn’t shaky, not that much, but for Simon, he might as well have been sobbing through the entire thing.
“It just. It was a little too similar.” Simon adds.
“And it spooked you?”
“Spooked.” Simon snorts. “It scared the shit out of me.”
An uneasy smile spreads on Johnny’s lips and, yeah, that makes sense. He can see how it would be similar. He doesn’t really have anything to say and has a feeling that Simon’s not quite done, so he keeps his mouth shut.
“I trust you.” Simon continues, “but if my brain decides to act like I’m getting tortured, there’s not much I can do.” Simon confesses. He’s still not looking Johnny in the eyes, but it’s something. “Now that I know what the fuck’s going on, maybe there’s a chance I don’t panic again.”
“It did feel good. A lot better than getting tortured.” Simon chuckles and he looks at Johnny, finally looks him in the eyes and Johnny can see the vulnerability, the way Simon’s just offered his heart and part of his brain on a golden platter.
Simon has managed to relax a little, looser in the cushions of the sofa, but there’s still this slight tension to him. Johnny’s not too surprised, if what Simon said was true, that subspace could feel close to torture, and he supposes it’s not a dumb take, then Simon has more than a reason to be shaken up. He’s flagged, limp against his thigh, but so is Johnny, soft in his jeans.
Johnny smiles softly. Even though Simon only called a yellow, there’s reason enough to end the scene here, to clean up and lie down for a while, just to relax a little before sending Simon home. Simon’s heartbeat has slowed down from where Johnny’s hand rests over his heart, but there’s still a shaky feel to Simon.
“How about we call it a night then?” Johnny suggests, trying to keep his tone light-hearted.
He doesn’t want to send Simon home, but he’s going to have to at some point. Simon doesn’t live with him. He doesn’t get to have that, doesn’t even get to ask it of Simon, really. Johnny has to live with that little weight on his heart, and he’ll wear it, he’ll bear it as long as he gets to see Simon again and again, ready and willing to trust Johnny to the end of time.
“No.” Simon grabs Johnny’s hand, stopping it from leaving his body. He’s clutching it tight, his eyes closed shut again, almost like he didn’t believe the words came out.
There’s a shaky exhale, then he’s speaking again. Johnny can’t help but be glued to his words.
“No. I want to feel good. Please.” Simon’s tone is almost pleading and it's…
“Simon, are yae sure?”
“I’m fine. I want this, Johnny.”
Johnny sighs and well, alright. If Simon wants to continue, they can do that; he won’t take Simon’s choice away from him and he definitely won’t pass up an opportunity to make Simon feel good. Johnny slumps into the couch, keeping his chest pressed against Simon’s shoulder, his hand against Simon’s heart, held there by Simon’s own hands. He tangles their legs together again and breathes slowly.
“Is there something yae want me to do differently?” Johnny asks, his voice soft where his breath brushes against Simon’s neck.
Simon takes his time to answer and Johnny takes it as a good thing that Simon is thinking it over and giving it real thought instead of dismissing him out of the gate. Johnny can feel the way Simon’s clutch on his hand relaxes a little, the way the fingers tremble a little now that they’re not forcing to keep his hand trapped.
“Can you take your clothes off?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” Johnny agrees quickly. “Anything else?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, if anything comes up, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
Simon nods and lets out a sigh. His shoulders fall down a little and his hands finally loosen around Johnny’s. Johnny sits up, sliding Simon’s legs on top of his own, half to reassure Simon that he’s not going anywhere, half not to move him too much, but Simon doesn’t seem to mind the movement and stares at him while Johnny removes his shirt. It’s a quick affair and he’s left in only his pants and boxers.
He unfortunately needs to get up to take them off, but he makes a quick affair of it and Simon stays put on the couch, taking the time to let his muscles relax. Johnny can see him relax, see the muscle stop twitching, see him sink into the couch. Simon’s eyes become half-lidded and tiredness slowly rises on Simon’s face.
It’s not too concerning, not after what just happened, but Johnny still makes quick work of getting back on the couch, tucking himself in between Simon and the back of the couch again. He keeps himself from touching Simon too much, apart from the places where their size and the smallness of the couch pushes them together. Simon’s shoulder pushes against his chest again, but this time it’s skin on skin and it’s better, of course it’s better, and even the shiver that runs through Simon seems to agree.
“Do yae still want to continue? There’s no shame in tapping out, Simon.” Johnny asks, of course he asks. He doesn’t want to take any chances, doesn’t want to risk Simon falling away into another bad place.
“Yes. Please.” Simon pushes out, a little thing on the tip of his lips, but in Simon’s rough voice, made even lower by the way he’s tired and soft, it’s everything Johnny ever wanted to hear.
“Alrighty, pretty. Why don’tcha turn towards me?” Johnny asks gently, a soft command, half to avoid jostling Simon too much and half to see how quickly he does it, how much energy he puts into it, how painful it looks. All these little things, he hopes, will tell him more about how Simon’s feeling, how they should continue.
Turns out Simon is even more perfect than Johnny keeps hoping. He turns slowly, letting himself fall into Johnny softly and it’s almost comic, with Simon’s size, the way Johnny is almost swallowed into the couch, but then Simon shuffles, just a little, pulls himself upwards to put his head on the armrest and it brings Johnny’s face centred into the pale skin of Simon’s throat and fuck…
Johnny’s not too sure how long he’s gonna be able to resist biting into the soft flesh of Simon’s throat. It’s… a lot.
Simon proves himself perfect again and again, throwing an arm over Johnny’s waist and grabbing Johnny’s hand with the other, both of their pinned arms holding each other. Johnny tangles their legs together, slipping a knee between Simon’s. He’ll pull it up in a minute, just like earlier to have access to Simon’s hole, but for now, he just wants Simon to relax again. The skin contact seems to be working better than Johnny thought and yeah, he thinks, no one who tortures you would also be naked, that wouldn’t make sense.
For a while, Johnny’s only roaming his hands across Simon’s body, running along his spine and down to his ass, rounding up to Simon’s hips and his side, going down to his chest when Simon’s arm gets in the way. Simon’s muscles contract and release underneath his fingers, but he’s not shaking and after a few minutes, his muscles stop jumping at the touch and Johnny thinks that Simon’s ready for a little bit more.
“Shhh, there you go doing so well for me Simon,” Johnny whispers against Simon’s throat, letting his lips flutter against the skin of Simon’s Adam’s apple.
The words pull a shiver out of Simon and Johnny smiles against Simon’s throat, letting his nimble fingers roam across Simon’s chest. He remembers very distinctly the way Simon whined when Johnny played with his nipples and quickly zeroes in on them. With only one hand, he can’t play with both, but there’s no rush for that and he takes his time brushing over a nipple, feeling Simon’s short breath more than he hears it.
It doesn’t take much, just a few passes for Simon’s nipple to be standing at attention, erect for the world, and Johnny can’t help himself. It only takes one shuffle and he’s wrapping his mouth around it. Simon moans a little, clearly not expecting Johnny’s mouth there.
Johnny smiles around the nipple, suctions his mouth around it and laps at it. His tongue is warm and wet against Simon’s nipple and it must feel fucking good based on the little breaths that Simon lets out. Johnny plays with it for a while, being careful to keep his teeth out of the way, lapping and sucking at the bud, making Simon’s breathing quicken up deliciously. Johnny can feel Simon’s cock harden up too. It’s a slight pressure against Johnny’s thigh but he pushes into it a little and Simon moans, quiet and broken, but he moans and his hips jerk into the feeling. Johnny pulls away, not letting Simon get off like this. It would be painful, more than Johnny’s willing to put Simon through, but Simon chases the feeling and his body lurches forward and before his cock can even make contact with Johnny’s thigh, Simon’s nipple scrapes against Johnny’s teeth.
Johnny freezes but it’s a moan, loud this time, that comes out of Simon, and his hips jerk, hard, his cock full and throbbing in no time.
“Fuck. Do that again. Please.” Simon whispers, and how can Johnny say no when Simon asks so nicely?
Johnny hums in agreement, lips still sucking at Simon’s nipple in a way that he knows the vibrations are going to travel through Simon and straight to his cock. Simon responds in kind, a lovely little moan escaping him and Johnny can feel it resonating in Simon’s chest. Johnny isn’t mean enough to keep Simon waiting any longer, so he carefully scrapes his teeth against Simon’s nipple again and it pulls that moan out of him for the second time so Johnny does it again and again, until Simon’s reduced to the jerking of his hips and the non-stop moans coming out of his mouth. It really seems that Simon likes a little bit of pain with his pleasure, and Johnny finds that he’s not opposed to that.
Simon’s throbbing cock pressing into Johnny’s thigh seems to be an invitation enough to spread Simon’s legs open once more and resume his earlier ministrations. The snick of the lube is quiet underneath Simon’s moans and Johnny can’t help but smirk as he bites down softly on Simon’s nipple as he presses a lubed finger to Simon’s hole. His finger almost sinks in by itself with how hard Simon’s hips twitch at the pain on his chest, but Simon is being so fucking beautiful and pushing his chest out, never pulling away from the pain, but into it, like he fucking likes it and by the throbbing of his cock, like he fucking loves it.
Johnny’s not even biting down hard, just barely applying pressure with his teeth, tongue quick to lap away the pain, and suck the saliva off of Simon’s nipple. Johnny latches off for a second, just long enough to blow cool air on Simon’s nipple and see the way it hardens and the shiver that wracks through Simon. The tip of Johnny’s finger slips in at Simon’s shiver, just a little bit, but Simon’s answering moan tells Johnny that he’s ready for more.
Slowly, Johnny sinks in one finger, pushing through the tiniest amount of resistance that’s still there despite having stretched Simon carefully earlier. Johnny keeps his mouth off of Simon’s nipple as he does, reducing the amount of stimulation for Simon. It’s a little gesture, one that he hopes that Simon appreciates, and he does, if the way he almost goes boneless against Johnny says anything about it.
“Feels good, baby?” Johnny checks in softly, breathing against Simon’s chest, away from Simon’s bright red nipple.
Simon nods, slowly but firmly and Johnny’s happy to leave it at that, the rest of Simon’s body seeming to agree with that nod.
“Yeah, feels good,” Simon whispers and oh. His voice is fucked. “Thank you.”
Johnny has to hold back the need to bite at Simon’s skin because there’s no way Simon is that fucking perfect.
“No need to thank me, I already have the sweetest reward all soft and pliant for me.” Johnny teases, moving his finger inside of Simon slowly.
He’s doing soft rocking motions, in and out, curling his finger to brush against Simon’s prostate. Just barely, just enough to make Simon exhale loudly. His cock is leaking pre on his piercing and Johnny wants to get his mouth on it again so badly, but he knows that Simon would be too sensitive, so he sets his mouth on Simon’s nipple instead.
It takes ridiculously little time for the moans to come tumbling out of Simon’s mouth again. Johnny’s mouth on his nipple is all it takes, apparently, and two orgasms, but Johnny’s pretty sure that Simon would be just as reactive without them. Johnny scrapes his teeth against Simon’s nipple again and presses his finger against that spongy spot inside of Simon and it takes nothing more for Simon to let out the loudest moan of the night, his body twitching into the sensations. Johnny indulges, biting down softly on Simon’s nipple again, sucking at the nub as he presses on Simon’s prostate again and again and again, relentless pressure that has Simon’s moan shifting into whines and Johnny’s sure that he’s close to coming now.
“Come whenever you need, pretty boy,” Johnny whispers against Simon’s nipple and Simon nods, moans coming out of his throat as Johnny doesn’t stop the assault on his prostate.
Simon nods and whines again. It doesn’t take long, just the hint of a second finger at his rim paired with a bite, slightly harder than the previous ones and a press to his prostate and Simon is gone, shaking as he comes. A single pathetic strand of cum shoots out of his cock and then nothing more, leaving Simon’s muscles locked up and shaking through his dry orgasm. Johnny fucks his finger inside and out of Simon, but leaves his prostate alone, despite the delicious noises he knows it would pull out of him. Simon’s orgasm drags out, despite the lack of cum and Johnny gives one last suck to Simon’s nipple before letting go, pressing endless praise to the skin of Simon’s chest.
“Such a good boy. Look at yae, so beautiful.” Johnny whispers as Simon falls limp on the couch.
“Doing so good for me, there you go.” Johnny smiles against the warm skin, wiping his dirty hand on his own thigh before running it over Simon’s sensitive body in slow, light caress to keep him tethered.
Johnny steers clear of Simon’s nipples because he knows that they must be oversensitive now, that they will hurt if he touches them right now. Simon might like a little pain with his pleasure, but that doesn’t mean that he likes it when he’s like this, slowly coming down to earth after his third mind-blowing orgasm of the night. Simon’s slowly coming down, and it takes him both more and less time than the last time, his shaky little breaths lasting longer, alongside the shake of his thighs, but his words are back much faster. Fast enough that it surprises Johnny when Simon speaks.
“Thank you.” Low and rumbly with the tiredness in his voice, but it’s soft and almost not shaky and Johnny’s impressed, alongside the feeling of utter want and admiration that courses through his veins.
“No need to thank me lovely,” Johnny replies, and he tries, he tries really hard, not to let the amount of love and respect he has for Simon show through his words, but he doesn’t think he succeeds quite right, because Simon is holding him tighter, a hug of sorts.
“Take your time. Breathe. You’re doing amazing, Simon.” Johnny whispers soon after, when the tremble in Simon’s legs doesn’t go away.
“More?” Simon asks in this shy little voice, low like he was trying to make sure Johnny wouldn’t hear him.
“Only if you want, darling.” Johnny tries to reassure. He might be hard as a fucking brick, but he’s not doing anything if Simon’s done for the night. He can take care of himself later, when he’ll be free to replay all the gorgeous little sounds that came out of Simon all night.
Johnny tilts his head back, brushing his lips underneath Simon’s jaw, pressing kisses there as Simon’s breathing calms down, despite the shake of his legs.
“Do yae think yae can come again?”
“Dunno.”
“It’s okay, we can stop here. We don’t have to continue if yae’re done, lovely.” Johnny whispers, giving Simon an out, letting him decide when they’re done.
Except Simon apparently doesn’t want that.
“Can we try?” Simon’s not pleading, not exactly, but there’s an edge to his tone, and it’s… “I want to be good for you.”
Oh.
He is desperate, and he’s fucking cute about it.
But it’s never been about Johnny, never will be, especially not tonight. Tonight’s all about Simon, about making him feel good. Johnny makes sure to tell Simon that, no matter how much he does want to hear Simon begging for him in that little whiny voice he gets.
“Oh, Simon, yae’re already so good for me. Yae don’t need to push yaerself.”
“No. I… I want to make you feel good.” Simon replies, and there’s something a little hesitant in his voice, something that almost sounds unsure so Johnny doesn’t let him push.
“It’s about yae feeling good, Simon, not about me.” Johnny reminds him, voice still soft. He wants this to be good for Simon, without Simon pushing himself more than he should.
“Fuck’s sake, Johnny, I want you to fuck me!”
There’s a silence.
Then.
“Oh.” Johnny lets out, taken aback by the words.
That.
Yeah.
Fuck yeah, he can do that.
He’ll do it glad-fucking-ly
“Yea? Want me to stretch yae open for me? Mhm? Want me to push inside yae, fill yae up and fuck yae slowly?” Johnny teases, tracing his lips against Simon’s jugular, “press against yaer prostate, and make yae feel so good even if yae can’t come anymore? Tha’ what yae want, baby?” He’s catching every little exhale at his words and they’re confirming over and over again that Simon wants this, wants him.
“Please.” Comes Simon’s answer, so close to being a little whine out of his throat and fuck if it doesn’t send Johnny into a near frenzy.
“‘Course I can do that, baby, especially when yae ask nicely like that,” Johnny smirks, pressing his lips to Simon’s throat.
How could he ever refuse Simon? Johnny smiles to himself and reaches for the lube, slicking up three fingers while he kisses the dip in Simon’s throat. It might be a little early still to press fingers to Simon’s sensitive entrance, but the only sound that’s pulled out of Simon is a surprised gasp, and Johnny has a feeling it’s not because the lube is cold, because it’s not. He’s taken the care to warm it a little, always does for Simon. He deserves that and more.
Johnny’s careful as he presses his fingers to Simon’s rim. It’s puffy and it feels sensitive, if all the twitches in Simon’s legs have anything to say about it. Johnny slowly presses around it, making sure it doesn’t actually seem to hurt, before pressing the tip of his finger in. He takes it slow, inching carefully until he’s all the way in with no resistance.
Once he’s fully sheathed, he pulls his finger back and that pulls a moan out of Simon. It’s small, but it’s there and it tells Johnny that it’s not going to be a long thing once he’s inside Simon. It doesn’t really matter; he feels like he’s a hair trigger, too, with the way his cock keeps brushing Simon’s soft dick and the hair of his thighs every time Simon rocks forward into his fingers. Johnny’s sensitive too, despite having flagged when Simon safeworded, he’s back to full hardness and probably a little purple at the tip from how long he’s been starving himself.
Johnny presses one more kiss to Simon’s chest to focus, bringing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. The matter being Simon’s sensitive hole that apparently wants nothing more but to suck everything in when Johnny presses a second finger to Simon’s rim. Apparently, and this is a titbit that Johnny’s gonna keep for the next time, Simon is so relaxed and overstimulated like this that there’s no resistance at all when Johnny pushes in with two fingers.
There’s a moan that comes with the push, long but not loud, just enough to make it past Simon’s mouth. His leg twitches when Johnny’s knuckles finally push against his ass and Simon pants, out of breath from the overwhelming sensation.
“Too much?” Johnny checks in.
“Yea. Feels good.” Simon’s voice is tight and raspy, and the words, well… He’s not too sure.
Johnny’s a little confused, but Simon’s not telling him to stop, so he retreats his fingers from Simon’s ass and starts fucking them in just as slowly. He’s being careful as he starts spreading them, stretching Simon out and making sure it won’t hurt when he finally pushes inside. Simon pants and moans throughout, unable to keep the noises in and he’s clutching at Johnny’s waist like there’s no tomorrow, like he wants to leave marks and God, Johnny hopes he does.
It doesn’t take long until Johnny starts to hint at a third finger pressing against Simon’s entrance and the pressure makes Simon whine a little, a soft thing that almost makes Johnny want to pull back, but Simon’s already pushing his hips down on it, trying to get the extra finger inside of him and… Well, Johnny’s not a good enough man to refuse him.
Three lubed fingers push inside Simon slowly, stretching him wide for Johnny’s cock. He’s going carefully, making sure that it doesn’t hurt Simon and the lube does a great job at keeping the slide wet and smooth. Simon moans the entire time it takes for the fingers to breach him, even if Johnny’s careful not to press on his prostate. It doesn’t really matter, though, with how overstimulated Simon must be, but Johnny’s careful anyway, stretching him methodically, scissoring his fingers until there’s not even a hint of resistance when he fuck them out and back into Simon’s hole.
“Ready for me, sweetheart?” Johnny whispers, pulling his fingers out of Simon carefully.
Simon moans for him and nods. Johnny wipes his fingers off on his cock, using the remainder of the lube that keeps spilling out of Simon to slick his cock. It takes a little bit of shuffling before Johnny’s cock can press at Simon’s puffy rim and it brings Johnny’s face level to Simon’s for the first time in a while and oh…
He’s fucking gorgeous.
Simon’s cheeks, his entire face really, are red with flush. His eyes are holding on to unshed tears, and it makes Johnny want nothing more but to see them run down Simon’s cheek into the couch below them. Johnny keeps a steady pressure against Simon’s hole but doesn’t press in just yet, wants Simon a little desperate and it’s entirely selfish but also a little bit protective of Simon, trying again and again to make sure he feels comfortable in this, to make sure he really wants it. Johnny doesn’t like being lied to, especially in these types of circumstances, but Simon doesn’t look like he’s lying with how fucking needy he’s being.
Simon’s arms are still locked around his waist, nails digging into his skin and pulling him close and closer, trying to get him to fuck into his hole and there’s the adorable way he’s trying to rock himself on it, little exhausted movement of his hips that achieves nothing but puts barely more pressure against his hole.
Johnny takes pity on him and pushes in carefully and Simon cries out, at the feeling, the fullness, or the sensitivity, Johnny doesn’t really know. He doesn’t care all too much either, not when it finally has the tears shedding from Simon’s eyes. They roll down his cheek like liquid gold, stopped by Johnny’s tongue before they can sink into the armrest. It tastes like salt, both the tears and Simon’s skin, flushed with sweat as he is, but there’s something underneath, a soap or body lotion and it tastes fucking good, musky and deep, just like the little breaths that Simon’s panting as Johnny pushes inside him oh so slowly.
Simon’s legs are shaking with the intrusion, and he’s holding on so hard, all muscles locked up and Johnny can tell that Simon’s not too hard from coming. The panting quickens the more Johnny pushes in and it’s terribly delicious, especially when the air brushes against his lips and he has to hold himself back from kissing Simon senseless. He wants to give Simon time to take it, to settle into it without having to fight for oxygen at the same time. Except he doesn’t really have time to settle into it, neither of them does, because as soon as Johnny’s hips are flush with Simon’s ass, Simon comes, body ravaged by trembling and shaking, near convulsing in Johnny’s arms.
“There’s my good boy, so good for me, Simon, there you go.” Johnny praises all the while.
There’s a pathetic little drop that comes out of Simon’s cock, but other than that, he comes dry for the second time of the evening and it’s like his body is trying to make up for it by how much he’s tightening around Johnny’s cock and it takes a lot of effort not to come into Simon right there and then.
His ass is clenching and releasing, milking Johnny’s cock like there’s no tomorrow and it makes Johnny moan in retaliation. He’s loud, but not as loud as the moans and gasps that come out of Simon, and Johnny’s not too sure how he manages to keep himself from licking all the sounds from Simon’s mouth. He steels himself with the knowledge that Simon doesn’t really like kissing and it’s enough to keep him biting at the soft skin of Simon's jaw instead, pressing kisses over his chin and his cheeks, the tip of his nose and his temple, wherever he can reach as Simon falls lax in his arms one more time.
“Shhh, so good for me, Simon. We’re all done, you can relax now.” Johnny whispers against the skin and comforts Simon, singing praise in his ears.
It has the opposite effect, however, and Simon locks up, his arms tightening around Johnny more than ever.
“No.” Simon manages to croak out, voice destroyed to hell and back. “Don’t stop.”
It’s a plea, and if Simon wasn’t holding onto him this tight, if his ass didn’t clench to keep him in, Johnny wouldn’t be inclined to believe it, but Simon sounds so far gone, looks it too, with the red tracks under his eyes.
“Want you to come inside.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, a little pea from Simon and it makes Johnny twitch inside Simon’s ass at the words. “Please,” Simon adds at the feeling.
“Jesus fuck, I don’t think I can say no when yae sound like that, love,” Johnny grunts out and doesn’t wait a minute to resume the movement of his hips.
He starts slow, but he supposes it wouldn’t really matter with how sensitive Simon’s ass is right now. There’s more tears that run from Simon’s eyes and Johnny kisses them away, murmuring softly in Simon’s ear, sweet words and promises of a bath, of cuddles once this is done. Simon doesn’t really seem to register, not with the way he cries every time Johnny moves. He’s careful still, not to press on Simon’s prostate, not to stimulate him more than he needs, and it’s not like he needs it anyway.
Simon’s clenching around his cock like there’s no tomorrow and he’s trying to milk all the come out of Johnny and there’s no place where he’d rather be, Johnny thinks, knows. He wants to be here, always, with Simon soft and pliant, gathered into his arms and crying in pleasure, pleasure that Johnny gave him. It doesn’t end up taking long for Johnny to feel on the edge. It doesn’t surprise him, not really, not with how long he’s been teasing himself by playing with Simon, not when he’s got everything he never knew he wanted with him, not when Simon’s making these delicious little noises against his mouth.
It only takes a few more thrusts and Johnny’s coming too, pumping his come inside of Simon, who just moans at the feeling and comes again, barely there, but rocking through him at the same time as Johnny. They both moan in each other’s mouth, panting and breathing the same air and Johnny has to hold himself back from biting the pale skin of Simon’s throat as he comes.
Johnny pulls out slowly.
Simon pants, foreheads stuck together with sweat.
Johnny presses a kiss to Simon’s nose.
They breathe together slowly, for what feels like an eternity, until not even the warm, humid air of Johnny’s basement saves them from feeling a little cold, the sweat starting to evaporate from their bodies.
Johnny doesn’t really want to, but he rolls Simon onto his back. He’s not surprised to see Simon’s eyes shut, cheeks wet with tears, but the most satisfied smile stretching his lips. Johnny breathes like that for a minute, half over Simon, just admiring his sweaty and contented form.
He doesn’t want to leave too soon, not if Simon’s far enough gone that he doesn’t hear him, so Johnny stays with him on the couch.
Johnny almost wants to pull the blanket over them, but it’ll be nicer once they’re showered, so he covers Simon with his own body.
After a while, Simon’s eyes flutter open, and he smiles at Johnny.
“Bath?” Simon croaks out.
“Mmhhh, I did promise yae a bath, didn’t I?” Johnny smirks, and he presses a kiss to Simon’s cheek before getting up, crouching beside the couch. “Can you walk?”
Simon takes stock of his body for a second and lets his head fall backwards as his eyes close. He shakes his head. Johnny chuckles
“That’s okay. I’ll start the bath, then I’ll come and carry you. Does that sound okay?”
Simon nods.
Johnny gives a parting squeeze to Simon’s hand and walks away, his heart beating faster as he does. He’s quick in the bathroom, plugging the bath and starting the water as quickly as he can, testing the temperature as soon as the water comes out. He doesn’t want to leave Simon alone for too long, doesn’t want him to think Johnny’s abandoned him.
He’s making his way back to Simon in under two minutes.
“Hey, yae ready for a bath?” Johnny announces himself as he walks to Simon.
Simon nods, still relaxed on the couch, but with a small shiver now and then. Right. It’s time to get the sweat off him.
Johnny smiles as he leans down to grab Simon. He’s heavy, but Johnny goes to the gym for a reason, and he manages to pick up Simon koala style and brings him to the bathroom on shaky legs. It’s a relief to put Simon down on the countertop, despite the face that Simon makes at the coolness.
“Sorry, Love,” Johnny whispers as he gets the shampoo, conditioner and body soap out of the cabinet. “Right, in the bath yae go.”
Simon hops off the counter at his words, legs shaky but stable enough to make the three steps to the bathtub. Johnny gives him a hand to step over the ledge and Simon is sinking into warm, soapy, bubbly water.
Johnny steps in behind him and it's not a big tub, but they make it fit. Simon relaxes against Johnny’s chest, and Johnny can’t help but to wrap his arms around him.
“Let me take care of yae, Love,” Johnny whispers against Simon’s ear.
Simon doesn’t protest, just relaxes further into Johnny’s chest, and it pulls at his heart to know that Simon is his for now, for just their brief little moment. Johnny takes his time to wash the sweat and come off of Simon, gently rinsing his skin with the warm water and a soft cloth. He’s particularly careful around Simon’s parts, just barely going over them with his fingers. He fears the cloth would be too irritating, even underwater like they are.
Simon floats for a while and gently resurfaces as Johnny’s washing his hair. Simon hums, pleased at the treatment. Then, there’s this sad quality that takes over him, as Johnny finishes rinsing out the suds. It takes his muscles; Johnny can feel that when he has to put more effort into making Simon lean against him once he’s done washing Simon’s hair.
“What’s wrong, love?” Johnny asks, soft and quiet in Simon’s ear.
There’s nothing for a while, but Simon tenses and relaxes, then tenses again. He’s taking big breaths, steeling himself for something that doesn’t happen, not now at least. Simon sighs and there’s some sort of sob that comes out of his chest, wet and pushed down, but it scares Johnny a little, that Simon’s going through something and he doesn’t even know what’s happening.
“Wh-” Simon starts, but can’t finish, his throat broken and dry. Johnny offers him the water bottle by the bath, and Simon drinks it eagerly. He sets it back down, almost empty and tries again.
“When I joined the army, I gave up on having relationships. It wouldn’t work. I was too fucked up already and….” Simon trails off, and now it’s Johnny’s turn to tense, anticipating what was going to come out of Simon’s mouth. “Well, let's just say shit didn’t get better. I was fucked beyond belief, sure to die on the field, alone. And I was fine with that. Truly.”
“Then, I got paired with one fucker. He wasn’t scared of me, didn’t flinch, loud mouth and not scared to run it. We worked together a lot, because it was fun, and we worked well. Slowly, I got attached. Told myself it was just field banter, a little bit of fun to keep morale high. I was fucking stupid to think that, of course. Didn’t know how deep I was in at the time. Did more missions with him.”
“We ended up in the middle of Russia at some point, unable to get out because of the weather. He damn near froze to death before we found a hunting cabin. We huddled up, trying to unfreeze, you know, skin to skin is the best way to warm up. One thing led to another and we were fucking.” Simon chuckles. “Not too sure how it happened, wasn’t complaining.”
“Went back to base, kept it professional. Tried to. But I knew what he was like, what he sounded like when I was dick deep into him, hands around his throat… It was difficult to stop. Couldn’t stop, really. Looked so pretty on his knees sucking my cock.”
There’s a fondness to his voice that makes Johnny a little uncomfortable, but Simon’s clearly going through something, so he lets him speak.
“I got too close, too attached, and on one mission, we fucked up.” Simon takes a big breath, and Johnny braces himself. “He got shot in the head. Protecting me. Dead instantly. Had to finish our goddamn mission with his body right there, going cold, and my hands were shaking too much.”
“We did it, though, avoided world war three for the thousandth time, but this time it cost him his fucking life. He doesn’t know he’s a hero.” Simon sighs and stays silent for a while. Johnny’s too scared to ask what’s going on in his brain.
“I got news, two days later, that he had made it. That the bullet only grazed his brain, that the ambulance picked up a heartbeat on their way to the hospital. 36 hours of surgery, but he woke up.”
Johnny doesn’t really like where this is going, and the scar on his forehead is aching, pulling at his brain in an uncomfortable way.
“He… Long-term brain damage. Permanent memory loss, the doctors told us. It didn’t matter that I was at his bedside when he woke up, because he didn’t remember us. Didn’t have a single chance to. My captain kept tabs while he had to relearn how to talk, how to eat, how to walk, how to… live. He didn’t have any chance of making it back into the army, into our platoon, so I mourned, and I moved on. I knew him for a grand total of 7 years. And he knew me for none.”
“Simon…”
“Let me…” Simon cut him, sounding on the verge of tears. “Let me do this. Please.”
“I retired years later, severe injury to the shoulder, medical discharge. Left me with a pretty pension and nothing to fucking do. My shoulder wasn’t healing like it should, so I tried to see a physiotherapist. I saw three of them in a row, and none of them wanted me back on their table. Then my old captain sent me a recommendation for another one. Said he was good.”
“I opened the door and I saw you, and…” Simon’s voice trails off, broken, and Johnny’s helpless to do anything.
“You were standing there in front of me, you looked the same, sounded the same, fuck! You even smelled the fucking same! They even… I don’t know who made that fucking choice, but when I learned the name they fucking gave you…”
“Jonathan Riley…” Johnny whispered, shock in his voice. “Yae’re Simon Riley…”
“They gave you my fucking name. So Johnny… I might not have been able to tell you this when you knew me the first time, but fuck, I need you to know anyway.” Simon’s voice was broken by a sob, but he continued.
“If this is too much, you can tell me to fuck off, you can tell me to never see you again, and I won’t, I’ll never come near you, but… I love you, and I don’t think I can stop.”
“Oh… Simon…” Johnny trailed off. How was he supposed to answer that? What was he supposed to say to that?