Still Breathing | By : suicideparty Category: M through R > The Outsiders Views: 6074 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Moonlight and Nighttime
Author name: Suicide Party
Rating: R
Summary: Dallas, Johnny, a bed, and contemplation.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by S. E. Hinton. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Moonlight and Nighttime
They are like dark and light, laying there on that bed, dirty sheets tangled around their legs, touching and thrusting and groaning with a need so desperate you can almost taste it in the atmosphere of the room.
One is pale, like moonlight, with white-blonde hair and ice blue eyes shut tight against the onslaught of sensation, his sharp face with it’s hard angles contorted into an expression of pleasure, mouth open wide, gasping and cursing and calling out the name of the boy below him. His hands are locked with his lover’s above their heads, and his back is arched in an attempt to get closer to the writing form beneath him.
The other is dark, like nighttime. His long black hair falls in sweaty tendrils across his forehead, obscuring his features, but the man thrusting into him know them by heart, and so he doesn’t try to fix it. His large, liquid black eyes are open, staring up in wonder at the emotions playing across his partner’s face, marveling at the openness and intensity of the show.
Johnny thinks of Dallas and about everything that changes about him when they are having sex. His voice gets deeper, husky with need and want, his eyes get darker, not so cold as they usually are, he becomes a softer person. Whether it is Johnny that has that effect on him, or the intimacy of the situation, he can never tell. But he doesn’t really care. He will take Dallas any way he can get him.
Dallas thrusts into Johnny again and clenches his fingers, loving the sounds the boy makes when they are fucking. He reflects on the ways that Johnny is a different person during times like these, when they are alone together. He becomes more daring, he takes what he wants. He’s not brave by any means, and Dallas is always in complete control, but it’s like his little lover becomes someone else. Someone that Dallas can love.
They move together, thrusting, gyrating, panting, screaming. Johnny comes first, his seed spilling, hot, onto his and Dallas’s chests and stomachs, his ass milking Dallas in the way that Dallas is sure he will never tire of.
At times like this, they both feel secure enough to say “I love you.”
And when they do, they mean it.
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