[identity profile] vanityjunkie.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] wl_fanfiction

Title: Favours
Author: Vanityjunkie
Rating: R
Pairing: Greg/Ryan (I really must branch out one of these days).
Word count: 1094
Summary: I really can't think of a summary right now, so I'll just say that it's a little idea I've had for a while, partially inspired by o_evil_one's comment on a fic of mine a while ago: "Love it when Greg looses his cool exterior, especially at the hands of Ryan" There's a bit of smut in there too, which is a first for me.



            The city sprawls out beneath me. It’s a cliché, I know, but London does sprawl. Not like the neat blocks and straight roads of home. I like it. All the colours – well, what little colour there is on this typically grey English day – are muted by the grimy window, covered in dirt and bird crap and whatnot. Watching the world go by. One of those things which seem like a waste of time, but maybe it’s worth it. I hear the door close, and Ryan walks over to me. I carry on staring out the window. His hands creep round my waist and my own automatically come to rest on them. I turn my head just a fraction to look at him and he’s following my lead, just gazing out at the street. I turn back and he starts kissing my jaw and neck, making me squeeze his arms more tightly, but he pulls them away. He takes my glasses off, carefully placing them on the dresser, and the grey, sprawling streets turn to fuzz.

            “Ryan, not yet. You know I can’t see a thing.” The irony is not lost on either of us when he ties a blindfold round my eyes. “What the fuck?” I say stupidly, reaching up to take it off. Before I can even touch it, though, Ryan threads his fingers through mine.

            “Just try it. Please.” So I hesitate, feeling very uncomfortable with this and knowing that if I took the damn thing off Ryan wouldn’t ask again. But fuck if I could ever say no to Ryan when he says please. I let my hand drop to my side and then he’s gone. No he’s not. I can still feel his body heat but he’s not touching me now and I’m too disoriented to tell where he is. I stand completely still, trying to listen for him, but my heartbeat is loud in my ears and I can’t concentrate anyway. Then he kisses me. There he is. I reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him toward me. He runs his hands through my hair and like earlier I rest my own on top, feeling my way along his arms. Bony wrists, elbows, tense biceps. I find his shoulders and he takes my hand and kisses it. It gives me chills. He tugs on it lightly and I understand what he wants. I let him lead me, I think towards the bed, although I’ve lost all sense of direction. He stops abruptly and I bump into him. Leaning forward to kiss him, it’s weird how even though I know where he is, I’m still tentative and uncertain, nothing like usual.

            “Are you sure you’re OK with this?” Ryan says, and it’s only then that I realise how tightly I’m gripping his hand. I nod, the cloth rustling round my ears. He doesn’t move for a second and I know he’s giving me that slightly worried look he has. Then he’s gone again and I reach out on instinct, stumbling forward. I’m surprised at the sheer relief that floods through me when his arms wrap round me, holding me close.

            “It’s fine, come on, it’s OK.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Jeez, what do you think I’m going to do?”

            “For all I know,” I say, half-smiling “you could be leading me out in the corridor to leave me there groping around like an idiot.”

            “Do you think I’d do that?” he says, and I can’t quite tell how serious he is.

            “No. No I don’t.” It shows how well I know him that I can see the little nod I’m sure he’s giving. Then he turns, still clutching me to him, and gently pulls me down with him. I was right. We’re on the bed. This time I do kiss him, and it’s fun to know that this time I’ve surprised him. I swing my legs up so I can lie down and he shifts on top of me. Now his body warmth surrounds me and I finally feel safe. Just. He’s undoing my shirt and I can guess what’s coming next. The feeling of his hands on my bare skin makes me breathe in sharply, then his lips leave mine and he kisses my collarbone, lingering for a couple of seconds. He does the same all over my torso and fuck me it’s unbearable. He goes slowly and carefully, dotting the kisses around so I can’t predict where he’s going to go next. Normally I would tell him to hurry the fuck up because oh yeah, did I mention how hard I am right now? But all I can do is moan. Then he undoes my zipper. Jesus I need this. He pulls down my pants and boxers and the unwelcome thought strikes me that I’m lying here, half-naked and blindfolded while he could just get up and walk away.

But any thoughts I’m having are obliterated by his hand around my cock.

The slow and careful touch is gone, thank God. Ryan gives the best hand jobs, and he really doesn’t disappoint this time. He pumps hard and fast, and I can hear his breath near my stomach, shallow and quick, just like mine, then oh Jesus fucking Christ God shit his tongue replaces his hand in one swift movement and that – that I did not see coming. Every nerve in my body is on fire as he swirls his tongue round the head and then rather impressively deep-throats me; this is like nothing I’ve ever felt before and I know I’ll do anything to feel it again. Everything that went before, the stumbling and nervousness was more than worth it for this.  It’s all over too quickly, partly because I just can’t last now, not when he’s been teasing all this time, and partly because this could never go on for long enough. He swallows and I finally relax. As he slides back up my body, I reach out to hold him. I feel his breath on my face and kiss him, still buzzing with passion. He slips his fingers round my neck and takes the blindfold off. Everything’s too bright for a few seconds, then my eyes readjust and I see him, so close, smiling. A sight for sore eyes to say the least. He whispers to me:

            “Now return the favour?” He’s got such a pleading expression on his face. I smirk.

            “First thing’s first,” I say. I take the blindfold from him and tie it tight round his eyes.


January 2016

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