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The bed creaks beneath them with each of Jon’s thrusts, the headboard thumping against the wall in staccato beats.
A bitten-off moan, a guttural sigh. The wet, filthy sound of skin on skin.
“Fuck,” Jon hisses, stretching out the last syllable in a low grunt as he tips his head back. Damian’s walls wrap around him like velvet heat, stretching every time Jon pulls back, and tightening so sweetly each time he fucks back into him, like he can’t bear to be apart, even in this.
Beneath him, Damian writhes, back arching off the bed as the head of Jon’s cock nails his prostate, sending electric currents of pleasure racing up and down his spine. His own cock twitches against his stomach and he sobs, his thoughts scrambling until there’s nothing but static and animal hunger for more and deeper. He desperately ruts his cock against Jon, eager for any friction.
Damian slides up and down the bed from the force of Jon’s thrusts, each one punching out a garbled moan from him, reedy little ah, ah, ah’s that sound like music to Jon’s ears.
Jon burrows his face into the sweaty juncture of Damian’s neck, licking a path up the delicate line of his throat before he bites down on the skin behind his ear, just to feel Damian shiver around him, tightening like a vice around his dick. “Shit,” he grunts, unclenching his jaw to let go just before he draws blood. He presses a sloppy kiss on the mark that’s sure to bruise. The sight of it ignites a dark, possessive heat in the pit of his gut. Mine, he thinks with perverse satisfaction, and Damian seems to be in agreement because he tilts his head back in open invitation.
And who is Jon to say no to that?
Jon leaves a smattering of other bruises and marks along Damian’s neck and shoulders, alternating between sharp bites and feather-soft kisses, languidly fucking him the entire time.
Damian sighs so prettily each time Jon bites down, toes curling and heels digging into the small of Jon’s back as if to beg him to go faster. “Mh, don’t stop,” he pants, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, yes.”
Jon sits up and plants his knees more firmly on the bed, shifting his weight so he can grab Damian by his hips and work him down to the base of his cock like he’s just a pretty cocksleeve, placing him more firmly on his lap. “That’s it, beautiful, let go, just like that. Rao, you take me so well.”
Damian’s eyes roll to the back of his head as Jon’s words settle beneath his skin like molten lava, his mouth dropping open in a choked gasp. Jon is so deep inside him, it’s like he can feel him all the way to his throat.
He locks his legs more firmly around Jon’s hips in an effort to keep them as close as possible while his arms flop back down beside his head, grabbing fistfuls of Jon’s rumpled bedsheets. The sensations wrestling through Damian’s body feel like they’re too much and simultaneously not enough — the heavy weight of Jon’s hands on his hips, the wet slap of Jon’s hips against the meat of Damian’s ass each time he buries himself to the hilt, the girth of his cock buried deep in his guts and the sharp ache of being stretched open to accommodate the shape of him.
Jon’s looking at him like he wants to devour him, his eyes nothing but thin rings of blue around his pupils, his curls a mess and damp with sweat. Though Damian is sure he’s no better.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Dami,” Jon groans, closing the distance between them to press a sloppy kiss that’s more tongue and teeth than anything, all heat and lust, a desperate bid for closeness despite how tightly they’re already pressed together.
Damian loses himself to the kiss, loosening one fist beside his head to grab a fistful of Jon’s mused curls to pull him closer, moaning raggedly as Jon bites down on his lower lip.
His hand tightens reflexively when Jon uses the leverage he has on his hips to fuck him hard and deep, punching out broken-off gasps with each thrust, the sounds swallowed into the kiss. Damian eventually pulls back just enough to whisper in the hot space between their lips, “I, mhmm, I think I may have an idea.”
“Yeah, baby?” Jon stills his hips when he’s in balls deep and just grinds, carving a deeper space for himself. “I don’t think you do.”
Damian’s cock aches, heavy and mostly untouched on his stomach, at the feeling. Whatever else he might have said in response is forgotten as the overwhelming need to come drowns out everything else.
He wriggles his hips, as if to coax Jon back to his previous, relentless rhythm. But Jon, the utter bastard, continues to toy with him. He rolls his hips in tight little circles, clearly enjoying the way that Damian is coming undone beneath him.
“Then show me,” Damian gasps, tears of frustration building up in the back of his eyes the longer Jon carries on purposely teasing him. “Show me what I do to you.” It’s both a challenge and a plea, spoken in a breathless rasp that just does things to Jon.
Jon closes the distance between them again, sliding his tongue into Damian’s parted lips, digging his nails into Damian’s hips just to feel the vibrations of his moan against his own lips. He slides one hand to the small of Damian’s back, anchoring him firmly to his lap as he sits up, dragging Damian with him this time.
Damian’s other hand lets go of the rumpled bedsheets as he hastily wraps his free arm around Jon’s shoulder to steady himself at the sudden movement. He sinks down, aided by gravity, and takes Jon to the very root. They both moan at that, deep and primal. They breathe heatedly into each other’s mouths, strings of spit connecting their tongues together when they pull apart.
Jon bounces Damian carelessly on his cock with a few experimental thrusts, reaching down with both hands to grab handfuls of his plump ass, parting his cheeks and stretching his puffy rim open so that he can fuck him deeper. He guides Damian’s hips to rock in slow, sensual circles, rutting his poor neglected cock against his stomach for some relief as he works up to a proper rhythm again, leaving streaks of precum that make each slide wet and filthy.
“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Wanted me to fuck you so good that you’d feel me for days?” Jon’s voice is a soft, silken croon, at direct odds with the obscene way he’s splitting Damian open on his cock.
Damian sobs brokenly, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks. His nails scratch along Jon’s shoulders and back, scrabbling for purchase on his impenetrable skin, anything to ground himself. He feels like he might float away, unmoored as he is — nothing more than a vessel of pleasure, his and Jon’s. “Yes,” he pants, sibilant. “Yes, yes, yes, please, Jon. Albi—” It comes out high and plaintive, a sound he’d normally never dream of making, if he wasn’t currently being fucked stupid by his boyfriend.
Jon ducks his head down, breathing out a burst of ice-cold air against Damian’s nipple. He quickly soothes the chill with a few slow swipes of his tongue before taking the entire thing into his mouth. He sucks and worries it between his teeth, groaning deeply when Damian pulses around his cock in response.
For his part, Damian presses Jon closer with the hand curled around the back of his head, rocking on his knees, with his kiss-swollen mouth parted in an “o” as he pants heatedly, looking so cock-drunk that Jon just wants to ruin him.
“You know I love it when you break apart for me,” Jon whispers softly around his mouthful of Damian’s tit, like it’s a secret. He times this with a hard thrust against Damian’s prostate, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his ass.
“Jon!” And Damian, beautiful, sharp Damian, finally comes undone, tightening like a vice around Jon’s cock as his back curves in a beautiful arch. He sobs his release, the pitch of his voice rising and rising until it breaks apart, cracking from the force of it. Jon’s name has never sounded sweeter.
Damian cums messily between them, his head thrown back and face slack with pleasure and ecstasy. He’s a vision to behold, colour high on his cheeks and skin dewy with sweat and tears, looking like every one of Jon’s wet dreams come to life. If Jon could keep Damian on his cock to take apart and put together over and over again, he would. Fuck, he would.
Fire licks up at the base of Jon’s spine, arousal tightening like a band around his gut. He thrusts up into Damian’s wet hole desperately, grunting against his chest as he blinks back beads of sweat from his eyes — unwilling to look away from Damian for even a second.
Damian whines, high and breathless, still trembling with the aftershocks. He squirms like he doesn’t know if he wants to bounce back on Jon’s cock or move away, caught as he is between pleasure and pain.
Jon lifts Damian up and down his cock in quick bursts, chasing his own release. It’s on his fourth thrust that he finally cums, buried to the hilt inside of Damian. Jon uses his grip around his ass to pull him in even closer, pumping him full of warm cum.
Damian hisses in overstimulation, tugging at Jon’s hair as his breath hitches with quiet sobs. He feels so full, and Jon keeps fucking his cum deeper and deeper inside.
Jon finally pulls away from Damian’s chest with a wet pop, moving instead to kiss his sternum in quiet apology. His thrusts ease to a gradual stop, and he lays them both back onto the bed, mindful not to crush Damian with his weight.
Jon peppers Damian’s face with kisses, whispering sweet nothings as he runs soothing hands up and down his shivering flank. Damian soaks it up like a flower basking in sunlight, always so sweet and receptive to affection after Jon’s fucked him good.
When Jon finally moves to pull out, Damian tightens his legs around his hips, halting his movements. The abrupt jerk has Jon accidentally thrusting down into Damian’s sloppy hole, and they both moan at the latent heat of arousal still burning inside them.
“Not yet, albi. Want to feel you inside me for a bit longer,” Damian hums in between the wet kisses he leaves on Jon’s neck, still tight as sin.
Jon groans, guiding Damian’s lips back to his with a hand on his jaw. He kisses Damian thoroughly, absently rubbing a thumb over the sharp lines of his jaw, proprietary and firm. “You’re insatiable, baby,” he murmurs into the heated space between them.
Damian licks Jon’s bottom lip before sucking into his mouth, biting down with a playful twinkle in his hazy eyes. He leans back, stretching Jon’s lip between them before he lets it slide past his teeth, soothing the imagined sting with another slow swipe of his tongue. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”
Jon’s cock twitches in interest, and he smiles into their next kiss, smoothing a hand over Damian’s leg. He hikes it higher up his hip, stretching Damian wider as he starts to rock back into him.
Thank god for Kryptonian stamina.