Taking Care of Business 4.4
Title: Taking Care of Business
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Airwaves 4.4
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 06 Caught in the Act (Comedy/humor)
Word Count: 615
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Robert’s IM with Alan has left him with a problem.
Author's Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
Kissing 101
Robert’s hands were shaking by the time he said goodbye to Alan. He was not quite sure if he even typed a coherent goodbye. His brain was focused on more immediate needs. Scolding himself for bringing this on, Robert needed to figure out how to deal with the immediate problem at hand and his five minute time limit. Thinking fast, he bolted from his chair, nearly toppling it over, and locked the trailer door, free hand already fumbling with the button and zip of his jeans. He had his pants down around his knees in record time. He spat in his hand, then grabbed his dick, his breath catching in his throat at the lack of self-foreplay. No time for that. Barely time for just this.
His hand felt foreign, somehow disconnected from his body. He leaned back against the door for support. His hand found a smooth rhythm and soon his breathing followed in short bursts. In and out, in and out, steady, only the intensity of the pressure on his upstrokes changing the pace slightly. He closed his eyes, the inside of the trailer not enough to do it for him…
He was back in New York, his apartment, and Alan with him in the kitchen. Alan smiling at him and offering to help and give him a hand. Touching him, stroking him, laughing at his eagerness, putting a finger to his lips to keep him from wailing in pleasure. Bringing him closer, closer, closer. Alan lips pressed to neck, he could smell him, taste him. Robert’s tongue darted out, seeking that taste, his memory strong and his strokes speeding up. His head bounced off the door, but he was oblivious to the sound. His ears were pounding, consumed by his halting breaths and the memory of Alan pressing him against the wall of the kitchen and possessing him, bringing him to release. Gulping for air, eyes squeezed shut, Robert felt the tingling in his feet shoot up his legs and he pounded his free hand against the door mirroring the tattoo that his heart was creating.
The orgasm certainly did not take him by complete surprise but the intensity of it did. He was sensitive and worked him self back down, his hand sliding across the softening organ and leaving him weak-kneed and heavy-breathed. He took a step forward and nearly tripped over his jeans, which were now around his ankles. His brain was on pleasure overload still and a small voice reminded him that he was on a strict time limit. He fumbled for a few tissues to clean up with and tried to pull his pants up at the same time. Not being one to multitask, even when his body wasn’t all tingly, he ended up failing at both, tissue box falling to the floor and him nearly landing next to it. He sighed, grabbed a handful of the tissues, then stood, pulling his pants up once he was vertical again.
Robert was cleaning up when he heard the tap tap on his door and his name being called. “Coming!” he yelled, loud enough to be heard as he tossed the tissues away and grabbed the script from by the computer. He caught a glimpse in the mirror and shook his head: he had a clear flush across his cheeks. He adjusted his glasses before rushing over to open the door and walking out.
“Sounds like you just did,” Hugh greeted.
Robert froze, eyes widening comically behind his glasses.
“Geeze, can’t take a joke?”
Robert watched him walk towards the set, unsure whether to follow or make a break for it. Feet dragging and orgasm-high definitely over, he trailed after.
Next: Late Night Arrival
Fandom: RPS
Story: Highway: Airwaves 4.4
Characters: Alan Davies and Robert Sean Leonard
Authors: michelleann68 + evila_elf = evila_ann
Prompt: 10_per_genre 06 Caught in the Act (Comedy/humor)
Word Count: 615
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Robert’s IM with Alan has left him with a problem.
Author's Notes:
Where it all began:
Big table of prompts is here:
Order of the story is here:
Previous story:
Kissing 101
Robert’s hands were shaking by the time he said goodbye to Alan. He was not quite sure if he even typed a coherent goodbye. His brain was focused on more immediate needs. Scolding himself for bringing this on, Robert needed to figure out how to deal with the immediate problem at hand and his five minute time limit. Thinking fast, he bolted from his chair, nearly toppling it over, and locked the trailer door, free hand already fumbling with the button and zip of his jeans. He had his pants down around his knees in record time. He spat in his hand, then grabbed his dick, his breath catching in his throat at the lack of self-foreplay. No time for that. Barely time for just this.
His hand felt foreign, somehow disconnected from his body. He leaned back against the door for support. His hand found a smooth rhythm and soon his breathing followed in short bursts. In and out, in and out, steady, only the intensity of the pressure on his upstrokes changing the pace slightly. He closed his eyes, the inside of the trailer not enough to do it for him…
He was back in New York, his apartment, and Alan with him in the kitchen. Alan smiling at him and offering to help and give him a hand. Touching him, stroking him, laughing at his eagerness, putting a finger to his lips to keep him from wailing in pleasure. Bringing him closer, closer, closer. Alan lips pressed to neck, he could smell him, taste him. Robert’s tongue darted out, seeking that taste, his memory strong and his strokes speeding up. His head bounced off the door, but he was oblivious to the sound. His ears were pounding, consumed by his halting breaths and the memory of Alan pressing him against the wall of the kitchen and possessing him, bringing him to release. Gulping for air, eyes squeezed shut, Robert felt the tingling in his feet shoot up his legs and he pounded his free hand against the door mirroring the tattoo that his heart was creating.
The orgasm certainly did not take him by complete surprise but the intensity of it did. He was sensitive and worked him self back down, his hand sliding across the softening organ and leaving him weak-kneed and heavy-breathed. He took a step forward and nearly tripped over his jeans, which were now around his ankles. His brain was on pleasure overload still and a small voice reminded him that he was on a strict time limit. He fumbled for a few tissues to clean up with and tried to pull his pants up at the same time. Not being one to multitask, even when his body wasn’t all tingly, he ended up failing at both, tissue box falling to the floor and him nearly landing next to it. He sighed, grabbed a handful of the tissues, then stood, pulling his pants up once he was vertical again.
Robert was cleaning up when he heard the tap tap on his door and his name being called. “Coming!” he yelled, loud enough to be heard as he tossed the tissues away and grabbed the script from by the computer. He caught a glimpse in the mirror and shook his head: he had a clear flush across his cheeks. He adjusted his glasses before rushing over to open the door and walking out.
“Sounds like you just did,” Hugh greeted.
Robert froze, eyes widening comically behind his glasses.
“Geeze, can’t take a joke?”
Robert watched him walk towards the set, unsure whether to follow or make a break for it. Feet dragging and orgasm-high definitely over, he trailed after.
Next: Late Night Arrival