(no subject)
Title: Four Reasons Heath Knew Calvin was Different
Rating: Nc-17
Pairing/Characters: Calvin/Heath
Notes/Disclaimers/Summary:
Heath is excellent at poker. He can bluff with the best of them, and never let’s anyone sees his cards. He kept the gay card up his sleeve for a long time. The only time it even peaked out was when it could just be blamed on alcohol. The truth of the matter is there’s a reason Heath used to win ever game of beer pong: he has a high tolerance for alcohol.
He kept that card, so far up his sleeve, sometimes he even forgot himself, but then he’d see some guy, and feel his eyes drift down the arms, and wonder what it would be like to have them secure around him, or how big the guys dick was and what is would be like to rub against him. Size didn’t matter to Heath, it wasn’t like he ever sucked the cock or got fucked. And the guys at the party, the not so straight ones, were always too pussy to kiss, let alone fuck. But they all enjoyed his weight on them, his hand on their dicks, his mouth on their necks.
Until Calvin.
Heath should have known Calvin was different from the start.
First, Heath was pretty sure, he’d been working on the same cup of beer all night. Most guys, before the gay experience have to get plastered first. He once had a guy so plastered that he couldn't even get hard.
Second, Calvin was the one that started chatting him up, asking him of oh so casual questions, that finally let to so which room is yours?
And third, the moment they stumbled into the room, Calvin’s lips were on his and his tongue sliding over his, and, fuck, it felt amazing. And it was Calvin that pushed him to the bed, and Calvin that was stripping off his shirt, showing a ripple of hard muscles. Calvin who pulled Heath’s shirt off, by then Heath’s brain had kick back in, and he grabbed Calvin jerking him to his mouth, and then rolling over, so he was on top. And he couldn’t stop kissing Calvin, loved the way Calvin’s hand traveled down his back, scratching lightly. Pausing, he drank in the side of this incredible hot boy, stretched out in his bed, his lips swollen, chest heaving. A hand cupped his neck, and in a flash Calvin was back on top, his white, white teeth, grinning.
He leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses down Heath’s chest, occasionally licking at the crease between his abs, as his hands worked on Heath’s jeans, pulling them down to expose his hard cock.
“You always go commando?” In the moonlit room, Heath could make out a flash of a smile. Fuck, this guy was gorgeous, where had he come from.
It took a moment for Heath to resister he had spoken. There was never talking during, there were groans and moans and muttered curses during the built-up and the climax, only after was there maybe an awkward “This doesn’t make me gay” line or just a wave up the hand as if to dismiss that this had ever occurred.
“Easy access,” he finally replied, and then Calvin was rolling a condom on his dick, and lowering his mouth down, down, and, holy fuck, he could feel the warm of Calvin’s mouth through the latex, and, fuck, why had he been missing out on this? Calvin’s fingers played over his thighs and up his stomach, and then he was cumming, and it had never felt so good.
He opened his eyes to see Calvin smirking over him, tongue swiping over his mouth. Heath’s cock twitched, and he pulled Calvin down, rolling them over, he fumbled open Calvin’s jeans, and stuck his hand through the opening of his boxers. Gripping the cock, he stroked his hand up and down, thumb pressing into the slit. Heath may not know how to use his mouth, but he sure as hell knows how to use his hand. In no time, Calvin is arching off the bed, and Heath is hovering over him, watching his face and the moment before he cums, Heath is kissing him.
They lie, spent in bed. Heath toes off his shoes and yanks his pants completely off. Damn, that was good.
And the fourth reason why Heath knew Calvin was different. He stayed. Slept there, pants open, cum drying on his boxers, until morning. In the daylight, Calvin buttoned his jeans, told the standard “we were drunk” line, and shimmied down the side of the house. Heath went back to bed, lying there, his hand drifted down to his cock, and he remembered a flash of white teeth, dark muscles flexing under him, over him. And that mouth, kissing him.
Rating: Nc-17
Pairing/Characters: Calvin/Heath
Notes/Disclaimers/Summary:
Heath is excellent at poker. He can bluff with the best of them, and never let’s anyone sees his cards. He kept the gay card up his sleeve for a long time. The only time it even peaked out was when it could just be blamed on alcohol. The truth of the matter is there’s a reason Heath used to win ever game of beer pong: he has a high tolerance for alcohol.
He kept that card, so far up his sleeve, sometimes he even forgot himself, but then he’d see some guy, and feel his eyes drift down the arms, and wonder what it would be like to have them secure around him, or how big the guys dick was and what is would be like to rub against him. Size didn’t matter to Heath, it wasn’t like he ever sucked the cock or got fucked. And the guys at the party, the not so straight ones, were always too pussy to kiss, let alone fuck. But they all enjoyed his weight on them, his hand on their dicks, his mouth on their necks.
Until Calvin.
Heath should have known Calvin was different from the start.
First, Heath was pretty sure, he’d been working on the same cup of beer all night. Most guys, before the gay experience have to get plastered first. He once had a guy so plastered that he couldn't even get hard.
Second, Calvin was the one that started chatting him up, asking him of oh so casual questions, that finally let to so which room is yours?
And third, the moment they stumbled into the room, Calvin’s lips were on his and his tongue sliding over his, and, fuck, it felt amazing. And it was Calvin that pushed him to the bed, and Calvin that was stripping off his shirt, showing a ripple of hard muscles. Calvin who pulled Heath’s shirt off, by then Heath’s brain had kick back in, and he grabbed Calvin jerking him to his mouth, and then rolling over, so he was on top. And he couldn’t stop kissing Calvin, loved the way Calvin’s hand traveled down his back, scratching lightly. Pausing, he drank in the side of this incredible hot boy, stretched out in his bed, his lips swollen, chest heaving. A hand cupped his neck, and in a flash Calvin was back on top, his white, white teeth, grinning.
He leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses down Heath’s chest, occasionally licking at the crease between his abs, as his hands worked on Heath’s jeans, pulling them down to expose his hard cock.
“You always go commando?” In the moonlit room, Heath could make out a flash of a smile. Fuck, this guy was gorgeous, where had he come from.
It took a moment for Heath to resister he had spoken. There was never talking during, there were groans and moans and muttered curses during the built-up and the climax, only after was there maybe an awkward “This doesn’t make me gay” line or just a wave up the hand as if to dismiss that this had ever occurred.
“Easy access,” he finally replied, and then Calvin was rolling a condom on his dick, and lowering his mouth down, down, and, holy fuck, he could feel the warm of Calvin’s mouth through the latex, and, fuck, why had he been missing out on this? Calvin’s fingers played over his thighs and up his stomach, and then he was cumming, and it had never felt so good.
He opened his eyes to see Calvin smirking over him, tongue swiping over his mouth. Heath’s cock twitched, and he pulled Calvin down, rolling them over, he fumbled open Calvin’s jeans, and stuck his hand through the opening of his boxers. Gripping the cock, he stroked his hand up and down, thumb pressing into the slit. Heath may not know how to use his mouth, but he sure as hell knows how to use his hand. In no time, Calvin is arching off the bed, and Heath is hovering over him, watching his face and the moment before he cums, Heath is kissing him.
They lie, spent in bed. Heath toes off his shoes and yanks his pants completely off. Damn, that was good.
And the fourth reason why Heath knew Calvin was different. He stayed. Slept there, pants open, cum drying on his boxers, until morning. In the daylight, Calvin buttoned his jeans, told the standard “we were drunk” line, and shimmied down the side of the house. Heath went back to bed, lying there, his hand drifted down to his cock, and he remembered a flash of white teeth, dark muscles flexing under him, over him. And that mouth, kissing him.