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dorksidefikerTitle: The Rules
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Chamber/Anole
Prompt: 50. Relationship
Word Count: 314
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are rules for dating Jonothon Starsmore.
Author's Notes: Written for themarvel_kink meme.
There were rules when it came to dealing with Jonothon Starsmore. You didn't talk about his past, his powers, or Paige Guthrie, and you did not look at him when he had his bandages off. You weren't his boyfriend, and you weren't supposed to expect HIM to act like one. He wouldn't pretend that he wasn't fucking you, but he wasn't about to shout it from the rooftops or let you drag him home for Thanksgiving (eating in front of him wasn't technically one of the rules, but it wasn't hard to figure out that doing so was really fucking rude).
If a person could abide by those things, then Jono was theirs, in as much as he belonged to anyone. He was inventive, he was flexible, and he didn't tire easily.
Something Victor Borkowski learned very quickly was that, while Jono couldn't return a blowjob, he was very appreciative and more than capable of making up for it in other ways.
"Oh God oh Christ do that-"
Jono's fingers caressed Victor's cheek lightly as he shifted his hips, then thrust again. Victor arched hard, clutching the headboard so tightly he was a little afraid he might break it. He could feel the pulse of the furnace that raged in Jono's chest, despite the layers of leather between himself and the fire. He would never dare to say it to Jono, but Victor relished that warmth. The rest of Jono was cool to the touch, but dear God, that fire...
Cool fingers teased along Victor's shaft, caressing him in a way that did nothing to relieve the aching hardness there. Victor begged wordlessly, and got only a mental chuckle in return.
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Chamber/Anole
Prompt: 50. Relationship
Word Count: 314
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There are rules for dating Jonothon Starsmore.
Author's Notes: Written for the
marvel_kink meme.There were rules when it came to dealing with Jonothon Starsmore. You didn't talk about his past, his powers, or Paige Guthrie, and you did not look at him when he had his bandages off. You weren't his boyfriend, and you weren't supposed to expect HIM to act like one. He wouldn't pretend that he wasn't fucking you, but he wasn't about to shout it from the rooftops or let you drag him home for Thanksgiving (eating in front of him wasn't technically one of the rules, but it wasn't hard to figure out that doing so was really fucking rude).
If a person could abide by those things, then Jono was theirs, in as much as he belonged to anyone. He was inventive, he was flexible, and he didn't tire easily.
Something Victor Borkowski learned very quickly was that, while Jono couldn't return a blowjob, he was very appreciative and more than capable of making up for it in other ways.
"Oh God oh Christ do that-"
Jono's fingers caressed Victor's cheek lightly as he shifted his hips, then thrust again. Victor arched hard, clutching the headboard so tightly he was a little afraid he might break it. He could feel the pulse of the furnace that raged in Jono's chest, despite the layers of leather between himself and the fire. He would never dare to say it to Jono, but Victor relished that warmth. The rest of Jono was cool to the touch, but dear God, that fire...
Cool fingers teased along Victor's shaft, caressing him in a way that did nothing to relieve the aching hardness there. Victor begged wordlessly, and got only a mental chuckle in return.