Who’s ready for porn? Hahaha oh my god writing this was ten kinds of awkward because my gram was like a chair away and she kept asking about my writing faces. Kennedy, obviously I like you in some way, because Jesus.
He felt like slime, which was a new experience. Joey was used to feeling like an asshole, like a thug, like an idiot. Feeling used. Technically, all those individal feelings had combined like Voltron to give him this awful, slimy feeling inside.
It really sucked, but then oh, so did Axel.
The little blonde had had him by the balls since the day they met, but it had never been so…literal before. Joey groaned, not trusting his hands to be gentle, so he squeezed his own thighs. They’d run into each other at one of Central’s seedier clubs, during a paint party. Axel’s hideous checkered pants were slung so low they were practically obscene, and he hadn’t been wearing a shirt. Glowing paint clung to his wiry torso, stained the trail of white-blonde hair on his stomach bright green and purple and orange. Axel was doused liberally with every color, actually. Every color but blue.
They’d gotten to talking, and Joey poured some vodka into Axel’s Red Bull, and then they really got to talking. Axel had a guy, but he hadn’t been returning his phone calls since the week before, when they’d had a fight. He’d been going out on any and every job he could to avoid Axel. So Axel decided to flip him the metaphorical bird and go out and party. And then Axel had looked at him and grinned, and there they were.
Axel was down on his knees, pants stretched uncomfortably tight over his own erection as he held Joey by the hips against the wall, his nose practically buried in the other man’s pubic hair. He giggled, and the vibration caused Joey to moan again, bucking his hips shallowly. Slowly, Axel pulled back, then dove right back in, setting a brutal pace. His teeth scraped over the skin a few times, but Jesus god did Joey not give a fuck right then and there.
“Owen’s not here.” Axel had breathed, getting up in Joey’s face. His skin, slick with sweat and paint, slid against Joey’s, staining his white tank. “I can think of a thing or two we could do right now that would piss the hell outta him.”
Joey remembered the first time he saw Axel, back in Iron Heights. He’d seemed so small and weak, until he kicked the teeth out of the guard who was bringing him dinner. They came back full force and beat the shit out of him, and Joey felt himself falling in love. They’d seen each other a few times out in the world since then, even worked together once or twice, but nothing more then that. But now Joey was so lonely that even the prospect of going into strip clubs had lost its appeal, and it seemed Axel was feeling the same way.
“You wanna get outta here, or..?” The question hung in the air for a second, the alcohol darkening Axel’s baby blues to the color of the ocean. No, it wasn’t just the booze. It was desire, too. Joey convinced himself of that.
“Yeah. Yeah. I got a place we can…yeah.”
They wound up in his apartment, with Axel blowing him into oblivion against the wall next to his front door. He was close, he was so close and then-
“Fuck me.” Axel hissed, his mouth impossibly close to Joey’s ear and oh fuck, he was wearing the airwalkers. He had slipped his pants off, so he was only wearing the airwalkers, and a good amount of paint. Joey grabbed him by the hips, pulling him down to where he wanted him. “Wait, hold on, I got a…”
He pulled the condom out of…somewhere. Joey would’ve felt mildly insulted if he hadn’t been so turned on. But then he remembered where his dick would actually be going and, yeah, those things were lubed, right? Good idea. Axel had a lot of good ideas. But his best idea involved grabbing the base of Joey’s dick, bracing his legs against the wall, and impaling himself. Joey moaned. Axel screamed.
The world was a bit of a blur, after that. Joey remembered coming embarrassingly fast, then pinning Axel against the wall and making out with him until he was hard again. There probably wasn’t a surface in the apartment that they hadn’t defiled…or broken. His poor table. When they finally fell asleep sometime around dawn, it was in a nest of sheets and towels that they’d made for themselves on the floor, having cracked the box spring of his bed. Joey wrapped his arms around Axel and sighed, but it wasn’t a happy one.
Axel’s guy was a Rogue, that much he knew for sure. And sooner or later, he’d find out what had gone down here. And then…who knew. Maybe he and Axel would break up, and the younger man would be all his. Maybe the guy would beat him to death. But for now…for now. Axel groaned in his sleep as Joey’s grip on him tightened.
“Leggo.” He whined, wincing as he twisted in the larger mans arms. Axel would definitely be taking full advantage of those flying shoes tomorrow.
They woke sometime in the mid-afternoon, and Axel bitched about his ass and his hangover and the paint that still clung to every inch of his skin until Joey picked him up and hauled him into the shower. They bathed, ate some cereal, and eventually located Axel’s other shoe. Then, with one of Joey’s only button-downs covering the bruises on his chest and shoulders, he departed. Through a window, of course.
“I’ll call ya.” He promised, eyes clear and bright in the midday sun. It was a bad sign that just the sight of them made Joey want to pull him back in and never let him go. But he did let him go, and fully expected to never hear from him again. Then, a few days later, his cell rang. “Yo, Joe! Listen, I was thinkin’. We had fun the other night, yeah? Why don’t we just…make that a regular thing? Anyway, I’m knocking over a jewelry store later, thought you may wanna come. See ya there!” He hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise, but one truth stood out:
Axel and his guy broke up.
He had a chance. A real chance! And he wouldn’t fuck it up. Joey grinned, letting his mind catch onto the tar truck that was passing by his window. He was gonna make this work.