Pairing: Matthew Davies/Sean Smith
Notes: For saur (who unwittingly chose which Smith boy to be used). Call this a (slightly late) birthday fic.
It always surprised me how passionate he could be. Quiet little Matthew, usually so unassuming and shy. Now he was just, there. Lips on mine, hands snaking over my skin underneath my shirt. We were in a hotel room, the first in days. It was the first real alone time we'd had in awhile. After all at venues there was always crew milling around. Or fans. And on the bus there was always the others just... there. In the way without knowing. And there were always so many interviews, with everyone wanting to talk to me above the others.
The most we'd managed to do recently was a me on my knees giving him head in a dirty bathroom.
His hands moved lower, cupping my cheeks and I couldn't help but release a soft gasp against those sweet lips. I thrust my hips against his, our hard dicks seperated by the material we wore. "Strip."
I nodded as he stepped away, sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes were on me, watching as I began by removing my t-shirt. I tossed it onto a chair carelessly, my hands already going to undo my fly. If he expected a show he made no indication of displeasure, so I kept going, just trying to remove my clothing as fast as humanly possible. He smirked at the sight, sitting back a little to watch in obvious amusement. I felt myself flush a little, but kept going, even though I almost tripped up on my boxers.
"There, much better." He smiled appreciatively, licking his lips. "Now bend over you fucking slut." I shivered as he said that, moving to bend over the other bed as I guessed he wanted. "I haven't got all day cunt, hurry up!" I squirmed, my dick twitching at the words as I bent over the bed, my arse in the air for him.
"Good whore, I like it when you're like this. Nice and quiet." He paused and I heard the bed creak as he stood. I heard more movement from him after that, but kept my gaze forward. I was tempted to watch whatever he was doing, but I feared it might make him change his mind about fucking me. That's what he'd done last time. He'd bound my wrists together and gone fucked somone else right next to me.
I bit back a groan as I felt a slick digit push between my cheeks. His other hand held my cheeks apart, making it easier for his finger to breech my body. "Ugh..." I groaned, pressing my head against the sheets as he drove it deep inside me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter, his finger moving in and out of me. After a handful of thrusts it was joined by a second, the pair working to stretch me open for him. Since it had been awhile it hurt a little, but that burn soon passed, replaced by spikes of pleasure when his fingertips pressed against that spot.
"Think you can handle me?" I heard him purr behind me, his fingers slapping in to make it purposefully hard for me to respond verbally. Instead I managed to nod, which seemed to be enough as he withdrew his fingers. "I love making you lost for words." I smiled a little, considering a response, but before I could settle on one he was there. His head pressed against my hole, urgently pushing inside me. I hissed behind my teeth when he finally got inside me, his dick pushing in deeper into me, not stopping until his hips were flush with my ass.
When he was fully inside me I took a few deep breaths to get used to him. Thankfully he gave me the time to do so, waiting those few moments before he pulled back, his dick sliding out of me almost all the way before slamming back hard. "Fuck!" I groaned, burying my face against the sheets. His hands were on me, holding me down as he fucked me at a rough pace. Even now, it still surprised me. This side of him. How rough he was, how passionate he could be. It was such a contrast to how he appeared. They used to say it was 'always the quiet ones' and I couldn't help but wonder if they'd meant him.
Matthew's hands held tight onto me, gripping my sides as he fucked me, each thrust slightly harder than the last. There was one part of his regular persona that remained during times like these. He wasn't too talkative during sex. I mean he'd talk before and sometimes after but during, not so much. I didn't mind it though.
I clenched around him, thrusting against the bed eagerly. I needed to cum and I had a feeling he'd not want my hands down there. Before he'd purposely stop just so he could bat my hands away. I wasn't too eager for him to stop his rhythm for that, so rutting would have to suffice. At least it was some kind of friction. However, there was no harm in asking him. "Please... touch me?"
He chuckled, stilling for a moment as he did so. "Now why should I move one of my hands to wank you?"
"Er..." I struggled to find a reason. All I could think of was that he'd stopped fucking me.
"Exactly. Now quit your fucking whining or I'll stop fucking your sorry arse." I nodded once, wordless. "Good." He resumed fucking me at the pace he had earlier, each thrust filling me completely. I ground against the bed hard, just like before. That'd have to do. It had before.
His nails dug into my skin, his cock ramming into me harder now. I was sure he was getting close. The increased roughness was a sure sign. I gripped the bedsheets harder, pushing back and clenching around his length. "You have five thrusts to cum." He purred, voice closer to my ear than I'd expected. I nodded and mentally counted down each thrust, moving my hips quicker. I closed my eyes, focusing on moving against the bed and squeezing around him.
I lasted three, my body shuddering as I spilled over the bed. "Fuck Matthew..."
He groaned, slamming into my arse another time before pulling out. I faintly heard a wet sound as he removed himself, though I was surprised he didn't just cum inside me. Of course I was too breathless to ask, but it was soon obvious. After all, he was soon in front of me, one hand in my hair, pulling me towards his crotch. Not close enough to suck, but close enough to atch and smell him while his other hand stroked once, twice, three times before he shot too, moaning as it splattered across my cheeks.
I watched in a daze a he wiped his dick through my hair, before patting the back of it. "Good slut." He smiled, moving away to lay over the other bed. I shifted so I lay fully on my own, hopingthat we'd get to do something in the morning before we got shipped off again.