Get down, make love
Title: Get down, make love
Chapter: 1/1
POV: Third person
Author: stargirl82
Fandom: McFly
Pairing: Pudd (Dougie Poynter/Harry Judd)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sexual favours, so to speak.
Wordcount: 1682
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own. But this easily could have happened.
Author's note: for kurdt105 and theunwantedpath , because they both wanted a [background]story about/of Dougie's boner in Tilburg.
Also written for my shiny, new prompt table: #29 Lust.
Oh, and this is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are my own. Just so you know. Feel free to point them out if you happen to stumble across one of these fuckers. ;)
The drummer grins and jumps up from his seat behind his drumkit. Drumsticks in hand, Harry hurries to catch up with the bassist and slaps the younger boy's arse before they leave the stage. Eyebrows shooting up so high they disappear under Dougie's fringe, he whirls around when he's sure that they can't be seen by the audience. "What the fuck?"
Harry grins devilishly, tilting his head to one side. "We don't have that much time. Shame. But." Walking closer, closing the gap between them, he boldly cups Dougie's crotch, palming him through the fabric of his trousers until he feels little Dougie stir and twitch beneath his fingers. Then he steps back, ignoring the gasp falling from the bassist's lips and crosses his arms over his chest, smirking. "But," he repeats, "we have about twelve minutes before we have to go back on stage."
Dougie's cheeks heat up, his eyes start glazing over with desire. His breath hitches in his throat and he thinks that he really shouldn't be this aroused by a little touching; teasing really, but unfortunately he can't help it. Harry sure knows how to push his buttons and takes advantage whenever he feels like it. Without uttering another word, he grabs the drummer's hand and pulls him into their deserted dressing room, kicking the door shut behind them.
The smirk still present on Harry's lips, he lets himself be manhandled, pushed ungently into the room and against the wall. He loves when Dougie's like this. The boy is usually much more gentle but there's something about the energy and the atmosphere when they're in the middle of a show. Performing makes their blood sing, adrenaline pumps through their veins, making their hearts beat faster until they can hear the blood pounding in their ears, can feel it run through their arms, their legs, everywhere. It's oh so exciting. Intoxicating. Arousing.
The blond's hands fumble with Harry's belt for a moment until he manages to undo it. He's shaking from the excitement and he almost can't open the button and zip of the drummer's jeans, but he bites his lip and forces his hands to steady. Then Harry's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Dougie complies, sinks to the floor while looking the older boy in the eyes. The drummer's eyes are so dark, they're almost black. While Dougie gets a kick out of Harry treating him like a compliant slut, the older boy gets turned on by seeing the bassist like this, horny, willing to fulfil his every wish.
Small hands pulling at Harry's underwear make the older boy blink and quickly pull his length free. He doesn't bother pushing his garments down; the more clothes he sheds, the longer it'll take to get them back on.
Dougie doesn't waste any time. His fingers grip the drummer's erection, giving it a few strokes before leaning and covering about three quarters of Harry's cock with his mouth. In one go.
Watching, eyes wide, Harry gasps and slips the fingers of his right hand into Dougie's golden hair, using his left hand to hold himself up by pressing it against the stony wall. The bassist looks up, eyes twinkling as he pulls back and lets his teeth graze the older boy's length, clearly enjoying the violent shudder running through Harry's body.
No time for teasing, he reminds himself and looks back down, moving forward, this time burying his nose in the nest of neatly trimmed hair. He remembers how it feels to find nothing but smooth skin when he swallows him down like that and makes a mental note to suggest another "shaving session"; simply because they have this ritual to shave each other instead of doing it themselves and it's incredibly erotic and makes him feel like the king of the world when he sees the trust in Harry's eyes. You wouldn't let just anybody near your most important bits when they're armed with a sharp razorblade now, would you? Trust, yes. And not to mention the lust that made his eyes all dark and glassy.
He really doesn't mind the hair though and it shows that he couldn't care less when he plants his palms firmly on the drummer's buttocks and squeezes while swallowing around him. Hm. He shouldn't be able to take all of him so easily. The boy's not exactly small, and seeing that they've had little to none foreplay and he's hardly had any time to adjust to his mouth being invaded like that, he probably should have gagged or something. Dougie chuckles around Harry's length, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerve-endings and causing the older boy to slump against the wall, biting his lip furiously to keep the noises inside that threaten to spill from his lips.
Harry gulps, trying desperately to breathe through his nose. He leans his head back against the wall, front teeth sinking further into his bottom lip when the bassist's tongue washes over him, tip to base and back up, making sure that he follows the vein on the underside of the drummer's prick with the tip of his tongue. It's all Harry's fault, really. For seducing Dougie in the first place, for teaching the younger boy everything he needed to know, even though the quirky boy's always been a bit of a natural. Looking for the perfect blowjob? Search no more. Dougie's definitely the most talented person he has ever met. And it's not like he wants to complain anyway. Au contraire, as the French say.
Assaulting Harry's cock yet again, Dougie concentrates on swirling his tongue around the angry-red head while bringing one of his hands to the older boy's balls to fondle him gently.
The drummer grasps hanks of hair and pulls, trying to relieve the pressure somehow, trying to give something back and let Dougie know how good he makes him feel.
The younger boy whimpers, arching his back and therefore bringing his face closer to Harry's body yet again. He opens his mouth wider, relaxes his throat and pushes forward as hard as he can. Apparently there is no time for tonguing and soft touches. Straining his ears, he tries to listen closely, tries to find out what's going on on stage. How much time do they have left? He doesn't even care about himself. He's not selfish - and besides, Harry's going to make it up to him, he knows that for sure. All he wants to do right now is finish off Harry. He wants to prove that he's able to satisfy the older boy, more and better than anyone else has ever done before him. He aims to please.
Opening his mouth before he can draw blood, Harry moans quietly, fingers combing through Dougie's soft blond hair. His eyes are screwed shut, head thrown back and he can't do anything but push his hips into Dougie's direction, trying to get even deeper even though he knows that it's impossible. The bassist holds his head still, allowing him to thrust forward and pull back as he pleases. His mouth is warm and tight and, goddamn, slick and he just can't help but move faster and hold on tighter. Part of him knows that he must hurt Dougie, but he's too far gone to actually care. The older boy's knuckles turn white as he forces Dougie's head closer to him, over and over again. And then he can feel a hot white ball of fire rising in his groin, spiralling downwards. He feels light-headed and for a brief second wonders whether he's going to pass out from sensory overload. The pleasure's just too much, too much to take. He needs release, badly, right. fucking. now.
Dougie senses the older boy's need and grips his balls a bit harder, squeezing until he's reached that fine line between pleasure and pain. He swallows again, then moans deep in his throat, squeezing his own eyes shut as Harry jerks and then he swallows again and again, trying his best to keep their clothes clean. It just wouldn't be a good idea to go back on stage with suspicious white stains on their shirts or trousers.
Groaning, he finally pulls back when he's sure that Harry's completely spent. His throat feels sore and abused and his head hurts like hell from the drummer's pulling his hair way too hard but for some reason he's happy despite the fact that there's a huge tent in his trousers - and no time for them to do anything about it.
Later. As soon as the show's over, they can go back to the tour bus, disappear in Harry's bunk and finish what they've started. The thought brings a smile to Dougie's face and he gets back to his feet, tucking Harry back in and fixing his jeans.
The drummer opens his eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Remind me to give you those fluffy pink handcuffs back."
Dougie looks up, his eyes widening comically. "Does that mean..."
Grinning, Harry nodds and leans down to press a kiss to Dougie's moist lips. "You've certainly earned yourself the privilege to have your merry way with me."
Squealing rather girlishly, the bassist throws his arms around Harry's neck and kisses him hard. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." There's one thing that the drummer has refused to do so far: letting Dougie tie him up and assuming control.
While Danny and Tom play the last verse of "Not Alone", the other two bandmembers share a sweet, passionate kiss backstage. And when Dougie practically bounces back on stage to play "All About You", Harry follows, wearing one of his gorgeous smiles that he pretty much reserves for the youngest bandmember.
He takes his seat behind the drumset to play the last song (before the encore), pretty much lost in thought. However, he doesn't forget to send his lover a couple of intimate smiles and seeing the way Dougie's eyes light up each and every time, he knows that he's made the right decisions. Life is good.