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25 August 2005 @ 12:27 am
... So I'm stalling about. *headdesk* I'm working on "Soldier Of Love", but this demanded to be written.

Ask For Answers

By catnip_martini

Summary: John/Paul fluff, Hamburg style, and a wee bit of sex.

Word Count: 688.

Author's Note: As I said in the summary, there's some sex in this fic, not a lot. However. I've never attempted to write, um, this sort of sex before. I hope it's clear what's happening. *facepalm* If it's not, let me know, yeah?

"Oh! Oh no, God, don't stop, oh fuck! Ohyes, that's amazing!" Paul's back arched and he writhed on the bed, gripping the covers tightly, panting and moaning with each gentle stroke of John's tongue. "Oh Johnny, yes!"

"Stop wiggling!" scolded John, quiet words muffled against bare, sweaty skin, taking hold of his lover's thighs to still his lithe body and repositioning his tongue in a place that Paul was sure it was never meant to go. Surely, if there was a God, He was right now wondering why He hadn't thought of this Himself.

"Oh fuck! Johnny, this is crazy, that-- mm! Ohh... God!" Paul gripped John's hair lightly, legs lifted high, gasping half at the awkward position and half at John's somewhat ridiculous but comparatively much more intriguing attentions. "Oh John, you can't-- ohh God, that's good!-- c-can't be enjoying that.. ohh...."

"Shut up," John mumbled, cheeks flushed from effort and more than slight embarrassment at his position, hands gentle but firm on his legs, eyes closed. His lashes brushed lightly against the base of Paul's thigh as he withdrew his tongue, swallowing quietly. "Fucking relax, alright? Don't be an ass about it, I love you."

With this, he continued his pursuit and Paul continued panting and whimpering as the gentle, patient caress of John's tongue brought him around; tremors ran through his body and he cried out as he came, hips bucking and jerking, spilling over his abdomen with a moan of John's name, dizzy from pleasure.

"Mmh...." John kissed Paul's thigh and gently lowered his legs, scooting up to tenderly lick his lover's stomach clean. Softly, he murmured to Paul how beautiful he was, and lay his head on his lover's stomach, right hand idly tracing circles on his hip.

Paul made a slightly dazed mental note to find out who the hell John had been talking to at the club. He ran a hand through the guitarist's hair, fingertips gently massaging his scalp, and whispered "I love you, Johnny."

Smiling softly, John nodded. "Love you, Paulie," he replied, stroking over his thigh. "Very much," he added after a moment.

Paul paused. "Was it good for you?" he asked timidly, chewing his lip. He, unlike John-- his Johnny, his love, he gushed internally, then quickly stopped himself-- never had the courage to tell some fairy in a pub, "I'm curious: tell me how queers fuck." That, in Paul's opinion, Just Didn't Work; he'd gotten pissed one time and done it, and was offered a demonstration in the back seat of the car of the fairy in question. He didn't like to think of the fact that he nearly accepted. But John had come in at the last minute-- just as drunk as he was-- and asked him to dance, then hauled him off to a secluded corner of the nightclub to do naughty things that they barely remembered in the morning.

John looked up at him presently and nodded. "Always," he said, then frowned softly. "Didn't you like that?"

"Oh Johnny, it was fantastic." Paul smiled. "I'm just sorry I don't know the things you do."

"You know me," said John simply, crawling up to lie beside Paul on the bed, then reconsidering and draping himself over Paul's pale chest, eyes closed, begging silently to be held. Paul obeyed the unvoiced demand and took John in his arms, kissing his hair softly, as though expecting him to speak again.

He didn't.

Paul pulled the thin blanket over their sweaty bodies, though with the warmth from both of them, he didn't really need it. Summer nights in Hamburg were best spent sweaty and sticky and holding one another. He felt John's soft skin on his own, John's breath on his collarbone, long-fingered hands running gently through the thin, dark hair on his chest. He heard John's quiet sighs as he relaxed even further, punctuations to unspoken sonnets.

"I love you, John," said Paul, very softly, after a short while of this.

John smiled and traced a line down his lover's chest with a fingertip, then wrapped his arm gently around his waist. "I love you, Paul."

- End.

Current Mood: workingworking
Current Music: "Sugar We're Goin' Down"-- Fall Out Boy
27thermidore27thermidore on July 3rd, 2013 01:18 pm (UTC)
Hello! I'm new here in Livejournal and this is my fist comment, so it is not gonna be very constructive.

I just want to say I found this very, very sweet and pleasing to read.