Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4121211.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, F/F
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Mohammed_Abdul/Jean_Pierre_Polnareff, Kakyoin_Noriaki/Kujo_Jotaro
  Character:
      Mohammed_Abdul, Jean_Pierre_Polnareff, Joseph_Joestar, Kujo_Jotaro,
      Kakyoin_Noriaki, Baby_Jolyne, Anubis_(Jojo)
  Additional Tags:
      30_Day_OTP_Challenge, 30_Day_OTP_Porn_Challenge, Lazy_Mornings, Anal
      Fingering, Anal_Sex, Marking, Wall_Sex, Rough_Sex, there's_so_much_gross
      french_expletives, Blow_Jobs, Edgeplay, Underage_Sex, Alternate_Universe
      -_Summer_Camp, Body_Worship, Come_Shot, Polnareff_is_a_giant_sap,
      Hospital_Sex, Come_Swallowing, Light_Bondage, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Money
      Shot, Trans_Male_Character, Trans!Polnareff, Sex_Toys, Nipple_Play,
      Nipple_Clamps, Genderbending, Vaginal_Fingering, Squirting, Dom/sub,
      Possession, Anubis!Polnareff
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-12 Updated: 2015-07-31 Chapters: 16/? Words: 18621
****** PolDul 30 Day NSFW Challenge ******
by LoverlyMadhatter
Summary
     Uh so here we are.
     I abandoned my ReiGisa 30 Day Challenge because I got way into JJBA
     recently ¯\_(シ)_/¯
     I'll be traveling a lot for a little while, so hopefully I'll
     actually have the ability to go through and complete this one!
     Using the 30 Day Challenge found here!
     Also I'm not beta-ing or really revising any of these atm because I'm
     mostly doing them for writing exercises for porn so uh sorry if
     they're weird. Feel free to message me with corrections! orz
Notes
     Ah yes, a companion piece to my Multilinguistics fic.
     Someone said in the tags on Tumblr that they were imagining the lazy
     morning sex and uh well so was I so here you go.
***** 18: Lazy Morning Sex *****
The Egyptian morning sun streamed through the window, warming the bed and the
deep red sheets that the two men were wrapped up in.  Polnareff pulled his arm
up over his eyes and groaned.
                “Mohammed,” he whined.  He felt the man smile into the back of
his neck, pressing a light kiss to the skin exposed there.
                “Do you not like the warmth, Jean?”  Abdul was lying behind
Polnareff, broad chest pressed to his back, and the sun’s light was just out of
reach of his face; Polnareff’s, though, was directly in the pathway of the
window.  He was being teased, and he knew by the glint in his lover’s eye when
he craned his neck behind him.
                “C’mon.  The sun in Egypt is too harsh for my beautiful skin,”
he sighed, faking exasperation.  Abdul chuckled and kissed him again, then rose
from the bed to close the curtains.
                Polnareff had spent somewhere around 50 days secretly sneaking
looks at Abdul, watching the muscles beneath his robes shift elegantly, or the
wonderful way his hips would sway when he walked.  Now, he openly stared while
Abdul moved around the bed and reached up to close the curtains, his perfect
ass tensing just so when he reached up, a little twist at his waist that made
Polnareff lick his lips.
                Abdul made his way back to the bed and laid himself down behind
Polnareff graciously, wrapping an arm around his torso.  “You are covered in
bruises.”
                “Thanks to you,” Polnareff snorted.  “All of my muscles ache. 
I feel like I did the first time we met.”  Abdul chuckled and pressed a kiss to
one of the bruises on his neck.  He slowly ran his tongue over a set of
fingernail-caused gouges on his shoulder, then pulled away and blew air lightly
over it.  His lover sighed, letting his eyes slip closed.
                Abdul continued to go over the multitude of marks he made the
night before, pressing light kisses to each purple mark that peppered his neck
and back, cooling each of the scrapes that Abdul had dug with his nails. 
Before long, Polnareff’s breathing started coming out in shaky heaves.  He
shivered when Abdul pressed a wet kiss to the nape of his neck, lifting his
relaxed silver hair.
                “There are amazing masseuses in Cairo,” Abdul muttered,
reaching behind him and picking up the bottle of oil from his nightstand.  “If
you would like, I can take you.  They can work out those kinks from curling up
in the car.”  He pressed two of his slick fingers into Polnareff, licking his
lips at the wanton gasp.
                “Though I’m not sure I would be comfortable with someone else
taking the pleasure of witnessing your body.”  He pressed his lips to
Polnareff’s neck gently, crooking his fingers inside of him.  “You’re so
beautiful.”  His fingers brushed against the bundle of nerves he was looking
for, and Polnareff groaned deeply, lacking any ability to quiet himself.  Abdul
slid another finger in, coaxing more throaty moans out of Polnareff.
                “I can barely control myself when it comes to you, Jean,” he
muttered into his ear, pressing another kiss to a particularly nasty, yellow
bruise in the shape of Abdul’s fingers.  He pulled his fingers out of
Polnareff’s ass and chuckled at the whine that Polnareff let out through his
teeth.
                “Nnngh.”  Polnareff was biting down on his lip, muffling those
beautiful sounds as Abdul pressed himself inside of him.  That just wouldn’t
do.
                Abdul reached his hand up to twist Polnareff’s head back
partway to meet him.  He traced his tongue along the Frenchman’s bottom lip as
he slowly fucked him, drinking in his gasps and moans as he slowly opened his
mouth.
                “Jean,” he breathed, his thrusts becoming somewhat less calm,
somewhat less controlled.  He could feel Polnareff tightening around him, and
the gasp when his large hand reached down to grip his straining erection
brought him completely out of his control.  Abdul snapped his hips up and into
Polnareff, letting the hand holding Polnareff’s face grip onto his shoulder,
his other hand working his lover faster.
                “Mohammed,” he groaned, loud enough that Abdul could feel the
vibrations through his back.  He let out an expletive in a mixture of French
and English, and continued a string of gibberish in both languages.  He
clenched tightly around Abdul as he came, his languages halting and morphing
into a low, long groan.  At the end of the groan, Polnareff let out a nearly
inaudible whisper of ‘je t’aime’, and Abdul came with a shout.
                “Awwww man,” whined Polnareff as Abdul slid his softening cock
out of him.  Abdul felt heat rise in his cheeks.
                “You have my apologies, Jean,” he apologized meekly.  “As I
said, I have very little control when… it, uh, comes to this.”  Instead of
getting up, however, Polnareff turned around and pushed Abdul so that he could
lay his head against his chest.
                “Nah, it’s ok.  I’ll take care of it later.”  He brushed it off
with a wave of his hand and a kiss to his chest.  “Let’s just sleep a little
longer, ok?”  Abdul let out a deep, quiet laugh and began rubbing circles into
his scalp and neck, trying his best to continue to relieve tension that he had
put there.
                “After you cleanse yourself, I believe that my skills may be of
high enough quality to give you a relaxing massage.”  Polnareff quirked an
eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye.
                “And once those kinks are out, we can go right back to giving
me more.”
***** 4: Masturbation *****
Chapter Summary
     Abdul leaves his scarf at the bar, and Polnareff... 'borrows' it.
                Polnareff wasn’t a thief.  He was a lover, a Stand-user, a
Frenchman, a brother, but he was not a thief; however, it was difficult to keep
that thought up as he stared at the scarf in his hand.
                While Kakyoin and Jotaro had already gone up to their room,
Abdul, Joseph, and Polnareff had stopped at the hotel bar before heading on
up.  This resulted in a few drinks, which loosened tongues and heightened body
temperature, which forced Abdul to remove his scarf and heavy jacket and reveal
those gorgeous shoulders.
                “Is there something wrong, Jean?” he asked with a smile and a
slight slur, eyes crinkling up at the corners.  Polnareff swallowed the lump in
his throat and closed his mouth, realizing he was staring.  He felt blood rush
to his cheeks, and quickly turned his head.
                “Uh, no,” he muttered, throwing back the rest of his malt.  “I
was just trying to figure out how you survived that long with that many clothes
on.”  Abdul let out a little snort and swallowed down the rest of his gin and
tonic, and then launched into an explanation of how the clothing he was wearing
actually kept him cool in the hot desert, but Polnareff didn’t really listen
and only focused on the way the light glistened on his moist lips.
                But, when the three men had polished off a significant amount
of alcohol and it was time to head upstairs, Abdul wrapped his arm around
Joseph’s shoulder and stumbled upstairs, leaving the scarf behind.  Polnareff
had planned to return it right away, but something brought him to his own
single room instead, sitting on the edge of the bed and clenching the scarf
tightly in his fist.
                He wasn’t a thief, but he wasn’t the most honest person,
either.
                Polnareff brought the scarf up to his nose and inhaled deeply –
the scent of cardamom and cinnamon and something else entirely masculine
wrapped around his mind, throwing him into a fog that he hadn’t meant to put
himself in.  It wasn’t too long ago that he would catch a whiff of the spices
when they walked into a market and would have to fend of tears, but now the
smell brought blood rushing into his cock.  He hadn’t noticed how, when he was
near Abdul, his heart would skip a beat, or his stomach would flutter, or his
skin would grow hot, until he was gone.  But when Abdul came back, announcing
that he was actually alive and well, his reactions came back even worse, and it
was all he could do not to get hard just being around him.
                As he inhaled the scent of the scarf, he imagined what Abdul’s
full, gorgeous lips would feel like on his.  Abdul would kiss him tenderly,
just barely touching their lips together, and then run his tongue along the
bottom lip, coaxing Polnareff’s mouth open.  Abdul would let his tongue slip
inside of Polnareff’s mouth, and he would taste just like he smelled, but even
richer.
                His ears flared with heat as he laid back on the bed and popped
open his pants, barely touching himself with his own hand, imagining Abdul’s
heavy, warm hand there instead.  Abdul would move his soft lips from
Polnareff’s face and down his neck, softly planting kisses all the way down. 
He would take his other hand and splay it underneath his top, just as Polnareff
was doing to himself, leaving the scarf to lie on his face.
                “Jean,” he would whisper as he pinched one of his nipples,
eliciting a soft gasp from the Frenchman.  He wrapped his hand around his cock,
pumping slowly like Abdul would, teasing him into a panting, moaning mess.
                “A-Abdul,” he whispered, biting down on his bottom lip as he
stroked himself faster.
                Just as he could feel the heat coiling inside of his belly,
tickling him and letting him know that he was close, a heavy knock at the door
tore him out of his fantasy.
                “Jean,” called the deep voice from outside the door.  Polnareff
sat up in shock and tore his hand away from his cock.
                “Un moment!” he replied, hoping that his voice sounded clear
enough to keep Abdul from being suspicious.  He took a few seconds to tuck his
softening cock back into his pants and roll his shirt down, willing the blood
out of his face.
                There was Abdul standing in the fish-eye lens of the door,
looking directly into it, the glaze of alcohol still covering his eyes.
                “Mr. Joestar have a hot date?” he joked, opening the door wide
enough that he could be seen, but keeping his hips out of view.  Abdul let a
loud laugh peal out of his throat – it wasn’t quite that funny, but Polnareff
was glad he could keep Abdul focused on something other than the front of his
pants.
                “No, my friend.  I seem to have left my scarf at the bar, and
they have informed me that you have it.”
                “Uh, yeah, I grabbed it.  Let me go get it.”  He shut the door
on Abdul and let out a sigh – everything went off without a hitch.  Now he just
had to get the scarf to Abdul, take a cold shower, and he could fall into a
deep sleep and forget this whole disgraceful episode.  He picked up the scarf
after wiping his hand on his pants, and opened the door with a feigned smile.
                “I am never so forgetful,” Abdul laughed, fitting the scarf
over his head and around his neck.  There was an awkward moment of silence
while Abdul seemed to become lost in thought.
                Polnareff took a deep breath and drew Abdul out of his
silence.  “Bonne nuit, Abdul.”  Abdul looked back up at him and smiled, then
leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
                “Bonne nuit, Jean.”
***** 9. Against a Wall *****
Chapter Summary
     Abdul can hear everything from Jotaro and Kakyoin's room, and he's
     been waiting patiently for Polnareff for hte past 2 hours.
Chapter Notes
     TECHNICALLY they fuck against a door SORRY
               “Jotaro!” came the shout through the wall, followed by a loud
slam and a low groan.  Abdul let out an angry grunt and pulled the pillow over
his ears tighter, rolling over on the bed and wishing he was deaf.  Within
minutes of checking into their hotel, Jotaro and Kakyoin had gone up to their
room, mentioning that they were tired, and proceeded to do every single thing
but sleep.  They had traded places a few times, as evidenced by the adjustment
of Jotaro’s grunts into low, throaty moans and Kakyoin’s choking sobs into
shouts of Jotaro’s name.
                Abdul had gone to his adjoining room, planning to do a little
more research on their next opponents while Mr. Joestar and Polnareff went to
the bar, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate at all with the thin hotel
walls.  At first, Jotaro and Kakyoin had tried to be quiet, little giggles and
muffled sighs, but then they just let it elevate to full blown screams.
                The door closed gently as Polnareff entered, his attempts to be
quiet successful but unnecessary as he heard Jotaro let out a “Noriaki!” from
next door.  Polnareff laughed and went to flip on the light.
                “Merde, they’re –“  Polnareff grunted loudly as Abdul shoved
him against the door - hard.  Without sparing time for a breath, Abdul threw
his thigh up between Polnareff’s legs and kissed him with rough and fervent
lips.
                “I’ve been listening to them for the past two hours,” he
growled, nipping into Polnareff’s bottom lip.  “They haven’t stopped.”
                “Doesn’t sound – ah – like they’re going to any time soon,” his
lover breathed back.  He sucked in a breath when Abdul removed his thigh and
replaced it with his hand, palming Polnareff’s already hard cock through his
pants.
                Abdul pulled back from Polnareff’s mouth, letting a string of
spit dribble down the Frenchman’s chin.  He moved to his neck, biting down just
enough to make Polnareff release a string of expletives that ended in a sloppy
groan.  His skin tasted like sweat and smoke and something sweet he couldn’t
put  his finger on, but it was something entirely Polnareff.
                “Turn around,” Abdul grunted in his ear.  Polnareff did as he
was told, letting out a surprised gasp when Abdul yanked his pants down to his
knees.
                Abdul reached for the small tube of lube that he carried in his
robes and quickly slicked his fingers, letting Polnareff’s high yelp bring
blood straight to his cock when he thrust inside of him.  The sounds of Jotaro
pounding Kakyoin into the wall were still loud, and still driving Abdul insane
– he had been imagining Polnareff’s sweet voice dripping moans and cries like
theirs for the past two hours, and he felt a jolt of excitement knowing that in
only moments he wasn’t going to have to imagine it anymore.
                “Jean,” he breathed in his ear, scissoring his fingers in his
ass, stretching him roughly and too fast to be completely comfortable.  “I want
them to hear us.”  Polnareff choked on a moan as Abdul hit his prostate.  He
could see that his lover was quickly losing control over his limbs, but he
wasn’t patient enough to move from the door.  Sliding his fingers out of
Polnareff, he turned him back around and tugged one of the pant legs the rest
of the way down, letting him slip off one shoe and one pantleg.  Without
warning, he lifted Polnareff against the doorway and plunged deep inside of
him.
                “Oh, oui!” he cried, piercing Abdul’s ears.  The cry only
spurred him on, thrusting erratically with no sense of rhythm, bruising
Polnareff’s ass where he gripped it tightly.
                “Baise-moi, baise-moi, baise-moi,” Polnareff cried, scratching
deep, angry marks into his back.  They were definitely going to burn later, but
right now, they only served to boil his blood further.  He pulled all the way
out and rearranged himself so that he was at the perfect angle, and thrust back
in to hit Polnareff’s spot head on.
                “Mohammed!” Polnareff screamed, gripping his lover’s shoulders
so tight his knuckles were turning white.  “Oui oui oui…”  His French turned
into gibberish as Abdul summoned Magician’s Red to hold him up so he could
bring his hand around to give some attention to his swollen cock.  There were
tears welling up in the corners of Polnareff’s eyes as Abdul kept fucking into
him, feeling the knot in his belly tighten.
                Abdul bit down into his neck and felt Polnareff’s body tense
completely, his ass clenching down around Abdul.  He came with a shout of
Abdul’s name, body beginning to relax against the wall as Abdul used him to
finish.
                “C’mon, baby, let them hear it,” Polnareff groaned in his ear,
and Abdul came undone.  He threw his head back and groaned, long and low.
                “Jean,” he bellowed, releasing himself into Polnareff, who
squeezed around him, helping him ride out his climax.
                He continued to hold Polnareff up against the door, pressing
his head against it and regaining his breath, while Polnareff started to laugh
weakly.
                “What?” breathed Abdul, turning his head to look at the side of
his lover’s face with a smile and a quirked eyebrow.
                “I can’t feel my legs.”  Abdul laughed weakly with the breath
that he had gained, and hoisted Polnareff up around his waist and carried him
to the bed.  It was finally quiet in their room, but Abdul had no plans for it
to stay that way.
***** 5. Blowjobs *****
Chapter Summary
     Jotaro and Kakyoin ask Polnareff and Abdul to babysit while they fly
     to Japan. Blowjobs ensue and are interrupted by said baby.
Chapter Notes
     I just get a lot of feelings when I think of how different Jolyne's
     life would've been if she had all 4 dads ok?
                “We haven’t quite gotten her to sleep through much noise,”
explained Kakyoin, continuing to scribble down notes and numbers onto a slip of
paper that was already drenched in green ink.  “So once you put her down you’ll
have to stay quiet or she’ll wake up again.”  Jotaro placed a hand lightly on
his shoulder, quirking an eyebrow.
                “Noriaki,” he said affectionately.  Kakyoin straightened
himself where he was bent over the table, setting his pen down.
                “Ah, well,” he laughed, shrugging.  “I’m sure you’ll be just
fine.”  Abdul gave him a reassuring smile and held one of his hands.
                “I’m sure we will, Kakyoin.  I spend most of my time
babysitting Jean, and I don’t see how it would be much different.”  He shot
Polnareff a look with a smile.  “Jolyne actually might be better behaved.” 
Polnareff crossed his arms in protest, but a little grin tugged at the corners
of his lips, letting Abdul know that he was in on the jab.
                “Well, we better get going,” stated Kakyoin, clapping his hands
together, earrings swinging as he turned to Jotaro.  “We don’t want to be
late.”  He chewed on his lip for a moment.  “Remember, the numbers are on the
fridge and Jotaro and I will –“
                “Noriaki,” Jotaro’s voice warned gently – again.
                “Right, right.  Ok.”
                After a little bit more fuss, Abdul and Polnareff got Kakyoin
and Jotaro out the door with wishes of a safe flight and an excellent class
reunion.  And then they were alone with Jolyne.
                Jolyne was a relatively quiet baby, only 10 months but already
somber and pondering, mirroring her father in most every way.  She was easy to
take care of, but Jotaro and Kakyoin didn’t trust normal babysitters; it wasn’t
out of fear for Jolyne’s safety, but for the sitter, just in case Jolyne’s
stand powers didmanifest while they were away.  Suzy and Joseph were out of the
country, and the former Mrs. Kujo was on a business trip, so the two of them
called Polnareff and Abdul, the only other two they could really trust with a
Kujo baby.
                “She’s already asleep, right?” asked Polnareff, quirking an
eyebrow across the kitchen table.  “Jotaro put her to sleep before they left,
yeah?”  Abdul met his eyes, the same twinkle in them.
                “Do you think you can stay quiet enough?”  Polnareff laughed. 
It wasn’t him staying quiet that they needed to worry about this time.
 
                                      **
 
                Abdul’s heavy hand landed in his hair, cracking and crushing
the gel that Polnareff had so lovingly put in it that morning.
                “Jean,” he sighed, feeling fire shoot through his veins. 
Polnareff lifted his head from the bite mark he left in Abdul’s thigh and
smirked.
                “Do you think you can stay quiet enough?” he mocked in a deep,
awful impression of Abdul’s baritone.  Abdul opened his mouth to retort, but
didn’t get the chance as Polnareff dove back down to tease his lover.
                Abdul’s legs were hanging off the end of the guest bed, one
elbow propping him up as he watched the Frenchman kneel between his legs.  It
was an ideal view, especially when Polnareff would look up at him, cheeks pink
and lips swollen red and glistening with precum and saliva.
                He licked a stripe up his cock, wrapping his lips around the
tip when he reached the top.  He had pressed his hands into Abdul’s hips to
keep him from bucking up, as Abdul had no such control when he was like this. 
Polnareff had a way of knowing just how to make the normally stoic man come
undone, how to force him to let his hair down and let go of his mystic
demeanor.  He knew just where to lick and prod to drive Abdul insane.
                Polnareff swallowed him down and Abdul slapped the hand in his
hair over his mouth to muffle the groan that tore out of his throat.  He
swallowed him down over and over again, working his free hand in just the right
twist in the places where his mouth couldn’t reach.  Abdul felt his balls
tighten against his body; there was no way he was going to be able to warn him
without waking up Jolyne, but he couldn’t stop it from happening and Jean I’m
coming and –
                All of the stimulation stopped before he could release, cold
air hitting his cock just as it strained for more, and he couldn’t stop the
growl that erupted in his chest.  Polnareff was sitting back on his heels
having completely given up contact with any part of Abdul’s naked body, the
glazed look in his eyes betraying the put-together sound of his voice.
                “You woke up Jolyne,” he teased.  “I guess I’m going to have to
go take care of her.”  Abdul could control himself, but when he was this close
to coming, it was much harder, and he couldn’t control the whine that he let
out through his teeth.
                “You woke her up, and now I have to go take care of her,” he
stated, standing in the doorway.  “As punishment, you can’t come until I come
back.”
                Abdul fell all the way back onto the bed and fisted his hands
into the sheets.  He could hear Polnareff in the room just down the hall,
cooing at Jolyne like he did to every baby he met.  It didn’t quite melt the
frustration of not coming away, but he did let his lips fall into a loving
smile, feeling his chest swell up as Jolyne’s little laugh joined into
Polnareff’s coos.
                Most of the time, Polnareff would leave Abdul tied up and
unable to touch himself in any way, crying out on the bed while Polnareff made
a phone call or had a cigarette, but Abdul thought that this might just be
worse.  Listening to his lover play with a baby in the other room just made him
feel dirty, but it wasn’t enough to let his cock go flaccid, and when he heard
Jolyne’s laughs give way to silence, he became just as hard as he was when
Polnareff left.
                “Tres bien,” he whispered when he walked back in the door,
softly closing it behind him.  Abdul felt the electric touch when their skin
met, but Polnareff didn’t touch anywhere near the burning flesh that
neededhim.  Instead, he pulled Abdul up into sitting position and crouched back
between his legs, bringing his hand to his mouth instead of his cock.
                Abdul was shaking, feeling Polnareff’s soft lips caress every
part of his hand, sucking each finger into his mouth and writhing his tongue
against it.  It was an exact representation of what Abdul needed, but in the
wrong place, but it still had him gasping and biting down on his lip to stifle
his moans.  Polnareff traced the creases in his palm with his tongue, sucking
an invisible bruise into his wrist.
                “Jean,” whines Abdul, voice laced with frustration, and
Polnareff tsks from between his legs.
                “I had to go once because of you; you don’t want to make me go
again do you?”  Abdul rolls his eyes, but forces the groan in his throat back
down.
                Polnareff gives him the same torturous treatment on the other
hand, and Abdul has to focus on regulating his breathing just to keep quiet. 
He closes his eyes and breathes in for seven counts and out for eight, in for
seven, out for eight, in for –
                “Aagh!” he shouts as Polnareff hollows his cheeks around
Abdul’s cock.  He barely covers the end of the shout with a hand, but he knows
it was loud enough for Jolyne to hear.  Polnareff takes his mouth off of
Abdul’s aching cock and waits.  When he hears nothing, he sinks his mouth back
down on it and takes his hands off of Abdul’s hips.
                The silent permission that he gives Abdul snaps his resolve,
and he bucks up into Polnareff’s mouth.  He feels his throat relax around his
cock, and he doesn’t stop himself from thrusting up into his mouth, over and
over again.  His balls tighten and the familiar feeling comes back that he
missed before.  He grasps Polnareff’s shoulders and thrusts up into his throat
again, coming into his mouth and feeling Polnareff swallow around him.  He
loses himself for a second, and comes to laying back on the bed with Polnareff
wiping cum off of the side of his mouth.  Abdul vaguely registers a baby crying
in the other room.
                “I took care of her last time,” Polnareff says, flopping beside
him in the bed.  “And it was your yell that woke her up, so…”  Abdul sighs and
runs a hand down his face, then sits up to go take care of little Jolyne.
***** 16. Public Sex *****
Chapter Summary
     I wrote this during my eight hour flight to Europe uh sooooooo ye ;)
Chapter Notes
     this one got extra looooong where did that come from
                “Merde,” grunted Polnareff, squirming himself down in his seat
uncomfortably.  His shoulders were too broad to fit comfortably in the tiny
seats, and Abdul was having a similar problem next to him, but with
considerably less noise.
                “You may as well get comfortable, Jean,” said Abdul from beside
him, shooting him a pitying glance.  They were going to there for quite some
time.
                It was the holiday season and, like every holiday seasons, they
were on their way to see all of their friends in America.  Rarely did their
American-based friends come see them, as it was a much easier trip for only two
people, rather than the entire party of Kakyoin, Joseph, Suzie, and Jotaro,
whether they would go to Japan for Holly or France for Abdul and Polnareff. 
However, this year, Abdul had business that had run late, which forced them to
take a late enough flight that the Speedwagon Foundation’s pilots were all off
for the holiday, except those reserved for emergency flights.  Thus, Polnareff
and Abdul had to fly publicly, a chore that hadn’t been in front of them in
quite a few years.
                “Why couldn’t we have at least sat business class?” Polnareff
whined, trying his best not to rub elbows with the person in the window seat. 
The poor girl hadn’t chosen to sit near them, two large-chested, broad-
shouldered men who took up almost an entire side by themselves; luckily,
though, she was small, but it was still a tight squeeze.
                Abdul narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.  “Someonebooked it
late enough that business class was unavailable unless we sold our quaint
apartment,” he scorned, making Polnareff’s face flush and his eyes look down at
his feet in shame.  He had forgotten to book the flight until Abdul began
packing the week before they were supposed to leave, much to Abdul’s
exasperation.  Their predicament washis fault, but that didn’t mean he had to
like it.
                “But that doesmean you cannot complain,” Abdul said, finishing
the thought in Polnareff’s mind.
                “Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, folding his arms across his chest. 
Abdul leaned his head back against the seat, headphones over his ears and audio
book on tape playing.
                “Just try to get some sleep; it’ll make the flight go by
quickly, my love,” Abdul muttered, reaching over and rubbing his thumb over
Polnareff’s knuckles.
                                      **
                Polnareff was pacing the aisles again.  He had tried to take
his boyfriend’s advice, he really had, but he just couldn’t bring himself to
fall asleep.  He didn’t know if it was the loud roar of the engine or if it was
just the awkward and uncomfortable position he was in, but no matter what he
tried, he couldn’t get his mind to settle down.  After the third trip past
Abdul, the older man finally told him to take the aisle seat with an annoyed
grunt.
                He came back and dropped harshly down into his seat with a
small ‘oof,’ and noticed that Abdul had gone missing.  He leaned over to tap
the girl on the shoulder to ask where his friend had gone, but realized that he
had roused her from a light sleep.  Blood rushed to his face and he apologized
profusely, but she just sighed and shook her head, answering his question
before he could even ask it.
                “Le w.c.,” she replied, turning her head back to the window and
closing her eyes.  He thanked her and turned back forward, trying to let his
eyes fall closed for the umpteenth time.
                “Jean,” whispered a voice.  He opened his eyes and looked to
the girl beside him, but she had already begun to snore lightly.  The voice
whispered his name again, sounding like it was right beside his ear, but there
was no one there.
                “I’m communicating with Magician’s Red,” Abdul’s voice said in
hushed tones, and Polnareff sighed.  They hadn’t communicated with them in so
long that he had almost forgotten it was a thing they could even do.
                “Are you out of paper?” he asked through Silver Chariot,
snickering quietly to himself.  He could feelAbdul roll his eyes from the
bathroom.
                “No,” he replied firmly.  “I want you to join me.  The closest
door to you on the right is unlocked.”  Polnareff almost choked, looking around
him frantically as if someone else on the plane heard them.  Unless they were
stand users – which he assumed no one was – they definitely couldn’t hear the
conversation, but it didn’t stop blood from rushing to the tips of his ears.
                “Joinyou?” he asked meekly.
                “Yes.”  That was all the confirmation he needed to stand up
from where he sat, making his way toward the bathroom.  Luckily, most of the
passengers on the plane were already asleep, but he still felt the back of his
neck burning, hoping that no one would see him enter the same bathroom that
Abdul had gone in earlier.  He checked down both directions of the plane and,
despite his nerves, quickly opened the door and slipped inside the bathroom.
                It was a tight squeeze, especially when their shoulders were
both so broad.  It made it all the easier for Abdul to reach behind his
boyfriend and lock the door, then press him against it with his mouth locked
onto the other man’s.
                “We cannot risk alerting the entire plane to our mischief,”
Abdul communicated to him, tongue already deep inside of his mouth.  He sounded
so serious and calm, while Polnareff was already flustered and red in the
face.  “Communicating with our stands would be the wisest choice of action.” 
Polnareff would have acknowledged that he understood had his mind not already
been muddled by the presence of Abdul’s thigh rubbing into his crotch.
                He kissed with a finesse that Polnareff had never managed,
leaving Polnareff breathless as he pressed him against the door.  He sucked his
bottom lip in between his teeth, scraping just the edge of his front teeth
across it, making Polnareff shudder.  He wanted nothing more than to groan into
his mouth, but he swallowed it down, thinking of the scandalized children and
old folks within ten feet of the two men.
                “Switch places and turn around,” ordered Abdul, internal voice
losing some of its calm, but not enough that anyone but Polnareff – who had
heard it completely undone – would’ve noticed.  They maneuvered as quietly as
possible around, Polnareff loudly bumping his hip against the sink and letting
an expletive slip.
                “Monsieur?” asked the voice of a flight attendant from outside,
accompanied by a short series of knocks.  Polnareff’s heart stopped beating,
but Abdul’s hand flashed up to cover his open mouth.
                “I just bumped my knee,” he said, voice unwavering.  “Thank you
for your concern.”  They waited a few moments while she turned and walked away,
then Abdul removed his hand from Polnareff’s mouth.  He leaned forward to
capture the Frenchman’s neck with his mouth, teeth leaving a little bite as he
wrapped his arms around the front of his body.  Polnareff shuddered at the
warmth pressing against his back, a welcome and familiar feeling that he knew
all too well.
                “Do you need my hand back to bite down on, mon Cherie?  Or can
you control your voice for the time being?”  Polnareff shook his head and
managed a weak reply, Abdul’s hands already dipping down into his waistband
after unbuttoning his pants.
                “I… I’ll be fuh-“ he gasped when Abdul’s warm fingers brushed
his cock.  “Fi-iine.”  Even if he didn’t need it, Abdul’s fingers still came up
and pressed at the entrance to his mouth, his teeth still nipping lightly into
his neck.  Polnareff opened his mouth just slightly, summoning as much spit in
his mouth as he could to slick up his partner’s fingers.  They both knew just
how quickly spit evaporated, especially on the fortune-teller’s warmer-than-
normal skin, so he wanted to get them as wet as possible.
                Abdul’s chest stuttered against Polnareff’s back as his breath
hitched, Polnareff working his tongue in swirls around the man’s fingers,
mimicking what he would do to him if he were on his knees.  Polnareff couldn’t
usually keep his wits about him with Abdul, but when it came to watching those
scars on his face crinkle up during one of his excellent blowjobs, Polnareff
was a focused expert.  His tongue lathering up his fingers was no different.
                “Ready?” he asked, his fingers still tucked into Polnareff’s
mouth.  The man did his best to nod in reply, and Abdul popped his fingers out
and brought them down to his entrance, slipping two inside at once.
                “Ahngh,” Polnareff grunted, keeping his moan held back and
breathing deeply through his nose.  Abdul stopped behind him, lifting his mouth
off of his neck.
                “I’ll stay quiet,” he muttered through Chariot.  “Just move
already.”  He felt Abdul chuckle silently, and then stopped feeling everything
but his fingers inside of his ass.
                It didn’t take Abdul long to find the spot he was looking for,
and when he curled his fingers just right, Polnareff shuddered in his hands. 
He was biting down on his lip to keep the sounds reigned in, but he was bound
and determined, and when he was determined, he could do almost anything…
right?  Yeah, sure, he just had to keep telling himself that.  With Abdul’s
thick fingers scissoring him apart, though, it made it harder by the second.
                “Your face is all red, Jean,” Abdul pointed out seductively,
sucking the upper part of his earlobe into his mouth, avoiding the gaudy broken
heart earring.  “I wonder if blood is rushing to… other parts of your body.” 
He bit his teeth down on the lobe at the same time that he shoved a third
finger into his boyfriend’s ass.  Polnareff squeezed his eyes shut and braced
himself higher up behind the toilet, both hands shaking on the wall of the
bathroom.  He was so warm and thick and gorgeous and Polnareff wanted to feel
him inside of him.  At least he could communicate that.
                “Fuck me, you pervert,” his mind groaned.  Polnareff pushed
back onto Abdul’s fingers, trying to get more from something that wasn’t
enough.
                “You aren’t lubricated enough, Jean.”  Polnareff bit down on
his lip and grunted.
                “We’re in a fucking airplane bathroom.  I don’t care,” he spat
back, sucking in an audible breath when Abdul removed his fingers.  He heard
the zipper on Abdul’s pants come down and craned his neck around to watch his
boyfriend pump himself to full hardness.  A fresh rush of blood made its way
into his face as Abdul made direct eye contact, his dark eyes burning with
desire.  Polnareff knew that he didn’t look much better, just as disheveled and
pupils just as blown, but it didn’t really matter.  Abdul kept his eyes on
Polnareff and spread his ass, pressing the tip to his entrance.
                “Do it.”  Abdul pressed into him, making Polnareff hiss through
his teeth as the tip breached him.  He willed his body to relax, willed his ass
to let the intrusion in.  He relaxed enough to let Abdul press into him a
little further, waiting for the sting of pain to be drowned out by the pure
pleasure he knew was there.  Abdul pressed in little by little, waiting for
little cues from Polnareff to move forward, until he was fully seated.
                “Give me a second,” Polnareff mumbled, breathing harshly
through his nose, arms trembling against the wall behind the toilet.  After a
few moments of coaxing his body into doing what he wanted, he finally nodded,
giving Abdul the go ahead.
                Abdul pulled all the way back out, slowly, and the only warning
he gave his boyfriend before thrusting hard into him was a quick squeeze of his
shoulder.
                “Ah!” Polnareff cried out loud, unable to hold in his voice. 
Instead of stopping, Abdul brought his hand up to Polnareff’s mouth and stuck
his fingers into it, filling up the noise making organ before it could get them
put on the no-fly list.  With Polnareff silenced, he fucked roughly into him,
biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out.  Polnareff met
him with each thrust, pushing his ass back in time with Abdul’s rhythm.  He
felt the fortune-teller coming undone, and knew when his thrusts became erratic
that he was close.  Abdul reached around to fist Polnareff’s cock, pulling and
squeezing in the way that Abdul knew drove him crazy, and with a stiff moan
around Abdul’s fingers, Polnareff came onto Abdul’s hand.  His boyfriend
followed soon after; Polnareff felt warm streaks land on his lower back, Abdul
breathing heavily behind him.
                “I, uh, seem to have come on your shirt,” Abdul stuttered with
embarrassment.  Polnareff groaned – if his shirt wasn’t black it wouldn’t have
been so bad, but that was definitely going to stain.  Abdul wiped him off as
best as he could, also washing his hands in the sink, and then graciously gave
his overcoat to Polnareff, who he let leave the bathroom first.
                Abdul followed him a few minutes later, avoiding suspicion
where possible, and took his seat next to his lover, who was already snoring
softly beneath Abdul’s coat.
***** 3. First Times *****
Chapter Summary
     Stardust Crusaders Summer Camp AU.
     Polnareff and Jotaro break Dio's nose and are suspended from camp
     activities for two weeks. Abdul and Polnareff find a way to take up
     some time.
Chapter Notes
     This is the worst one I've written yet and I'm so sorry. (╯︵╰,)
     I really wanted to put more work into it and make it cute, but it was
     mostly a sleep-deprived-imagination fueled one-shot.
     I didn't take the time to plan it out that I should've, and I've been
     running around London and now we're in Paris and I just don't have
     time to make it any better!
     If you like it, awesome! I'm planning on writing more in this AU
     because I think it's cute and I have IDEAS so yeah!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                Stardust Summer Camp had its cliques, but the rivalries ran
much deeper here than they did anywhere else.  Between Stardust and Brando’s –
the camp across the lake – there was a rift that ended in bloody fist fights
every year, and it was always between the same two groups of boys.
                “Augh, I can’t believe we have to see those bastards from
Brando’s again,” spat Polnareff, talking through the empty lollipop stick that
he held in his mouth.  “I mean, they broke Kakyoin’s rib last year, and nearly
got you lost in the woods!”  Abdul placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
                “I know; however, if we don’t go put aside our differences, Mr.
Joestar will not allow us to participate in any of the multi-camp activities
this year.”  Polnareff huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.  “That
includes the fencing tournament.”
                Abdul was right.  No matter how much Polnareff didn’t want to
see Dio or ‘Ice,’ or any of Dio’s other cronies, they had to go and pretend
like they were over what happened the past two years.
                “I just don’t see why we’rebeing punished here!” shouted
Polnareff exasperatedly, throwing his hands into the air.  He climbed into the
canoe that was waiting for them, holding his hand out to help Abdul get
inside.  Abdul was thankful that his dark skin hid the blush that rose to his
face, but that didn’t stop Kakyoin from noticing and interrupting before anyone
else could notice.  He cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time since
their journey had started.
                “It’s most likely because youburnt Ice’s arms with cigarettes
that you weren’t even supposed to have,” he scoffed, quirking an eyebrow as he
lifted his paddle out of the boat.  Jotaro covered up a smile beside him by
pulling down the front of his hat, and Abdul shot him a thankful glance.
                “Yeah, well, don’t forget that yourboyfriend punched Dio so
hard he got a concussion.”  At this, Kakyoin blushed and looked the other way,
pushing his bang out of his face.  He let Polnareff have the last word, then
helped push away from the dock to paddle on over to Brando’s Camp for Gifted
Boys.
                                      **
                “What do you meanyou’re still a virgin?” sneered Dio, getting
as close to Polnareff’s face as possible.  “You’re not even a real man!”
                Abdul wasn’t sure how they had gotten to this point.  They had
come over to the camp with (mostly) good intentions, but when Dio, Ice, and
Terrence all came swaggering out of their main cabin like they owned the place
(which Dio’s family did), Polnareff and Jotaro were already set on edge.  There
was an air of tenseness about Kakyoin and Abdul’s own self, too, but it wasn’t
the seething rage that the other boys had set in their jaws.  One insult was
hurled after another, and they had started talking about sex of all things, and
now they had ended up here.
                “I-I never said I was still a virgin!” shouted Polnareff, the
tips of his ears flushing red with blood.  Dio laughed, which cued Ice and
Terrence to laugh, and he saw Polnareff’s hands ball into fists.
                “I bet all of you are still virgins,” said Dio, smirking and
jutting his hips out as he crossed his arms.  “Still children trying to come
play with the adults.”  Polnareff’s face grew even redder, beginning to get to
a shade almost as deep as purple.  Kakyoin’s face had begun to turn pink to,
tugging on Jotaro’s jacket sleeve and saying something about his binder being
uncomfortable, but Abdul knew hewas just uncomfortable.
                “Your boyfriend trying to get you out of this, huh?” mocked
Terrence, plastering a smirk on his face similar to Dio’s.  Abdul watched
Jotaro’s hands mimic Polnareff’s, and this pushed him to step forward. 
Polnareff was mostly bark and little bite, but Jotaro was all bite.
                “They’re not worth it,” he commanded in his deep voice, hands
laying heavy on both of their shoulders.  “We did what we came here to do, now
let’s get back to camp.”  Dio choked out a laugh once more.
                “Now boyfriend number two is stepping in the way!” he cackled,
and before Abdul could clench his hands down on them, Jotaro and Polnareff
reached up and met Dio’s face with their fists.  There was a loud crunch as
they made contact, and Terrence and Ice were already on guard, ready to
continue the fight.  Where Dio fell, however, he sat up and shouted for them to
stop.
                “This way, we can just tell my father and they’ll be unable to
do anything for the rest of the summer, but we will be innocent parties,” he
explained, voice nasally now that his nose was obviously broken.  “Leave them
to get back to their crummy camp.”
                The canoe trip back to camp was an awkward silence, permeated
only by the sound of their oars breaking the surface of the water.
                                      **
                Polnareff’s skin was beautiful when it flushed the dark shade
of pink that it was under Abdul’s fingertips.  They were half naked on the
bottom bunk, shirts and pants thrown underneath the bed to avoid any suspicion
when Head Counselor Holly inevitably checked to make sure they were still
there.
                It had started out simply: Abdul had reached a level of boredom
unbeknownst to his mind.  They were suspended from activities for two weeks. 
It had initially been one week, according to Mr. Joestar’s light punishment,
but Holly intervened and doubled the sentence; though it wasn’t long, it was
still four hours a day full of absolutely nothing.  So, he suggested that
maybe, during their time, he and Polnareff could… learn from one another.  What
he didn’t tell his friend, however, was that his suggestion didn’t hold the
innocence he pretended it did, but served to fulfil Abdul’s own selfish needs. 
He couldn’t help that the sight of Polnareff made his heart leap into his
throat, but he wasn’t going to endanger their friendship by telling him that.
                The two boys started with kissing because Abdul couldn’t stop
thinking about Polnareff’s pink lips, and who wanted to be a terrible kisser,
right?  They hesitantly brought their heads together and met with a dry peck,
faces growing hot.  Then they moved on to open mouths, clinking their teeth and
bumping their noses, rubbing their lips raw until they got it right.  And then,
because Polnareff wanted to and Abdul couldn’t stop himself from asking,
Polnareff had taken Abdul’s cock into his mouth and, after a few scrapes of
teeth, blissfully got him off.
                And now, after as much research as they could do without
rousing suspicion, they were here, a week later, half naked and making out on
Polnareff’s bed.  Beside them was a little bottle of lubricant, borrowed from
Jotaro in hushed tones.
                “Are you ready?” breathed Abdul from above Polnareff.  He was
straddling him on all fours, and Polnareff’s eyes were glazed over like they
had gotten every day for the past week.
                “Yeah… I think so,” he replied, voice breathy and just a hint
nervous.  Abdul kissed his collarbone and scooted down his torso, taking the
bottle with him.
                “If at any time you feel the need to stop, tell me.”  Polnareff
nodded and bit down on his lip.  Abdul kept eye contact as he slipped a hand
underneath the waistband of Polnareff’s underwear, but as soon as he made a
move to take them off, Polnareff looked away and his cheeks grew red.
                “There is no need to feel embarrassed,” Abdul rumbled softly,
pulling down the undergarments with care.  “I have seen it.”
                “It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing!”  Polnareff brought
his hands up to his face, taking a deep breath.  “Just do it already!”  Abdul
chuckled and pushed coaxed Polnareff’s bent knees apart, dipping down to press
a gentle kiss to his thigh.  He felt a rush of pride as Polnareff shivered,
then pressed another kiss even closer to his groin.
                Polnareff sucked in a shaky breath as he heard the cap of the
bottle click open and Abdul squirt a good amount onto his fingers.  He kept his
eyes closed, lip pulled between his teeth, waiting for the cold touch of the
lubricant.  He couldn’t have prepared himself even if he knew when it came.
                “Ah!” he gasped, involuntarily closing his knees.  They banged
into Abdul’s shoulders, and the cold sensation was instantly pulled away.
                “Jean?” he asked gently, clarifying.  Polnareff took in a deep
breath, and then nodded his head.
                The liquid had warmed up some by now, but it still didn’t stop
the press of Abdul’s finger from feeling ten kinds of wrong.  He tried to
relax, telling himself over and over that it would feel better, but it
continued to feel foreign.
                “How are you, my friend?” asked Abdul, wiggling his finger
around ever so gently.
                “Ah… it feels strange.”  Abdul chuckled, continuing to move his
finger around and bend it, searching for the organ they had read about, but not
having much luck.
                The foreign feeling started to go away, and as it did, Abdul
asked him if he could put another one in, to which Polnareff nodded.  What he
wasn’t expecting this time was the pain.  He hissed through his teeth when
Abdul pressed the second finger in with the first one, feeling himself stretch
like he was going to tear.  He clenched his jaw tight.
                “Does it hurt?” Abdul asked calmly, pressing another kiss to
his thigh.  Polnareff shook his head, reminding himself that it would go away,
and urged Abdul on.  He continued to crook his fingers slowly, pressing gentle
kisses to Polnareff’s thighs, groin, and occasionally his flaccid cock, but
nothing could take his mind off of the edge of pain and the alien feeling that
accompanied it.  He felt Abdul scissor his fingers out, and couldn’t stop the
yelp that left his mouth.
                “What is it?”  Polnareff shook his head.
                “I can’t,” he grunted, balling and unballing his fists.
                “Do you want me to stop?”
                “Please.”  Instantly, Polnareff was flooded with relief.  Abdul
retracted his fingers, allowing Polnareff’s muscles to relax back into a
comfortable state.  The other man continued to kiss his thighs, rubbing gentle
circles into his hip bones with his thumbs.
                “Is there something wrong with me?”  Abdul looked up to find
Polnareff with his arm over his face, other hand still clenched in the sheets. 
He stopped his kisses and worked his way up to Polnareff’s covered face.  “I
mean, Dio said sex makes you a man, right?  And I can’t even do that.  What if
I can’t become a man?”
                “Is that what you’ve been worried about?” Abdul asked, eyebrows
knit in worry.  There was no answer, but that was answer enough.
                “Look at me,” commanded Abdul with enough force that Polnareff
peeked out from behind his arm, eyes red and on the verge of tears.  “You are
more of a man than Dio will ever be.  He hides behind his father and his
minions while you fight to save your friends.  Nothing makes you more of a man
than that – not sex and not Dio.”  Abdul pressed a kiss to his lips, pushing
every ounce of his feelings into those lips, hoping to pass all of the things
he saw in the young man to him.  He wanted Polnareff to see himself in the
golden light that Abdul saw him.  When he couldn’t breathe anymore, he pulled
away and went to get up, skin feeling prickly and alight with fire, but
Polnareff reached out and pulled him back down to lie beside him.  He tucked
his head under Abdul’s chin and pinned him there, not looking him in the eye.
                “Thanks, Momo,” he whispered, and laced his fingers through
Abdul’s.
Chapter End Notes
     This might be my last update for a little while, as our trips around
     Europe are cutting pretty deeply into my time! But I'm going to the
     Louvre tomorrow and buying Rohan a la Louvre so hahahahahahah it's
     good Jojo is always in my heart.
     <3 Thank you for reading, and please keep commenting if you like it
     and want to tell me so! IT FUELS ME.
***** 22. Body Worship *****
Chapter Summary
     Abdul loves nothing more than Polnareff's body.
Chapter Notes
     I tried planning the entirety of this one like... step by step, and I
     feel like it definitely made it easier to write!
     Does it make it easier/better to read? Let me know!
                There was nothing that Abdul loved more than Polnareff’s body. 
He straddled the man’s hips, roving his eyes languidly over every perfect
portion of his lover, feeling his cock stiffen just looking at him.  His hard
jawline and the way that his throat bobbed when he swallowed, just so.  Below
that sculpted jaw were hard pecs, protruding outward from his body like he was
constantly flexing, but Abdul knew the beauty of them when he flexed, and this
resting state was only half of the treat.  The rest of it was milky white skin
on blood red sheets, the hard lines of his abs twitching in anticipation,
waiting for Abdul to fold his body and bring all his muscles taut.  Abdul
couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into the hard muscle and make the hard lines
that were Polnareff’s body melt and shudder under him.  He ran his tongue
across his lips, dragging his eyes hungrily back up the Frenchman’s body,
stopping on his bright blue eyes; Polnareff tried to suppress the shiver that
ran through his body, but Abdul could feel it underneath him.  Polnareff had
power unrivaled, but he gave it up completely to let Abdul take his body, and
Abdul was always thankful.
                Abdul leans over his lover and sinks his teeth into the flesh
of his neck, relishing the gasp that Polnareff releases as he licks the mark on
his pulse point.  He tastes the salt of his skin as he runs his hands slowly
down Polnareff’s chest, tracing his fingers along every line and dip in his
skin, landmarks he knows well but is happy to relearn over and over again. 
Abdul brings his hand up and brings his mouth down, letting his finger pinch
one of Polnareff’s pink nipples, waiting for his gasp of pain before he soothes
the mark by putting his mouth overtop of the nub.  He rocks it between his
teeth gently, once, and then moves his mouth to the meat of the pectoral and
bites down.
                “There are not words to describe the perfection of your
breasts, Jean,” Abdul breathes on his skin, before latching his mouth onto his
other nipple.  He raises his eyes to look at the man, pale skin flushed red
before him.  He’s always embarrassed when Abdul calls his pectorals breasts,
but Abdul loves the red shade of his skin just as much as he loves his
breasts.  He watches him while he teases both nipples, fingers on one and mouth
on the other; the blood rushes to the apples of his cheeks first, and then
slowly starts to make its way around the rest of his face.  His ears come next,
only getting red at the tip, and his neck flushes afterward, blotchy and
spotted and red.  And then, like always, Polnareff lets out a sigh and brings
his forearm over his face, unable to bear the unrelenting gaze of Abdul’s dark
eyes.
                “As cute as you are like that,” says Abdul, shifting his body
lower and dropping feather light kisses and small licks into the creases of his
abs. “I want to see your face, habibi.”  He drops his head to the side, leaving
those fluttering kisses on his sides, and Polnareff begins to shake, laughter
imminent.  His lover reaches the hand covering his face down and pushes Abdul
further.
                “Salaud,” Polnareff laughs, arching his back up.  Abdul grins
and leaves his most sensitive, ticklish parts alone, and dips down to kiss the
insides of his thighs.  His thighs are just as hard as the rest of him, and the
closer he gets to Polnareff’s cock, the more he can feel the corded muscles
tense beneath his lips.  But, just as he gets to the base, he pulls his head
away and sits up completely.
                Polnareff is leaking precum and his cock is a beautifully deep
shade of red, and because of this, he whineswhen Abdul pulls away, eyes
pleading and eyebrows furrowed up in desperation.
                “Abdul,” he groans agitatedly, but Abdul only shakes his head.
                “Patience.”  Polnareff whines again and Abdul smiles and
presses a chaste kiss to his lips, swinging his leg over and off of the bed. 
He continues to smile, listening to Polnareff grip and ungrip the sheets,
shifting as the breeze from the window touches his cock.  He returns moments
later, a small bottle of oil in hand, and straddles himself over the man
again.  Taking as much time as possible, he slicks up his fingers and listens
to the melody of Polnareff’s whines and groans.  He leaves the bottle on the
bed and watches Polnareff close his eyes and suck his lip into his teeth, but
when the familiar warm stretch doesn’t come, he opens his eyes in confusion. 
And gasps.
                Abdul loves that gasp more than anything, the little inhale of
surprise when Polnareff’s wits have been bested, which is always in Abdul’s
case.  Instead of those thick fingers stretching Polnareff, Abdul has them
shoved inside of himself, and takes his time slowly scissoring himself open.
                “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” Abdul whispers
lovingly.  He stretches himself a little further and gasps, struggling to keep
his eyes open to watch Polnareff’s open mouthed moan.  His jaw is slack and his
eyes are glazed over, and Abdul keeps his eyes on his beautiful Frenchman as he
inserts another finger into himself.  He chokes back a moan.
                “There is no body more perfect than yours, Jean,” Abdul groans,
grinding his ass down on Polnareff’s cock.  “You are the epitome of bodily
perfection, and you’re – ah! – mine.”  He crooks his fingers inside of himself
and sends a jolt through his body, one that makes his legs shake and the string
holding him up straight snap.  He lets his head fall down onto Polnareff’s
chest, listening to the quickened heartbeat of the man he loves.
                Wordlessly, Abdul pulls his fingers out of his ass and wipes
them on the bed spread, reaching back for the bottle he had set aside earlier. 
He straightens his back and locks eyes with deep blue ones again, and slicks
Polnareff’s cock liberally, then tosses the bottle to the floor.  Before
placing his hands on those perfect abs, he wipes them off once more, not
wishing to soil a perfectly good specimen with the liquid on his hands. Once
they’re clean, he’s running his fingers along those hard lines again, pressing
the palms of his hands just so to feel every little ripple of muscle hidden
under skin.  He lifts himself up on the hard surface of his abs, and positions
himself with the blunt tip of Polnareff’s cock at his entrance.  He doesn’t
expect the guttural moan that leaves his throat as Polnareff’s tip enters him,
but the choked cry that it gets out of Polnareff is a much appreciated
consequence.
                There was no better feeling than being filled by the thick cock
of the most beautiful man his eyes had ever laid upon.  He could feel his skin
stretching with painful protest, the warm thickness making its way inside and
lighting every nerve on fire.  Abdul barely feels Polnareff’s hands gently rest
on his hips, but shudders at the gentle, loving grip overtop of his every nerve
screaming.  He doesn’t expect the end when he reaches it, ass pressed to the
skin around Polnareff’s cock, and it seems that neither does Polnareff.  They
both gasp and then still completely, Abdul closing his eyes and breathing out,
forcing his muscles to relax and to welcome the intrusion.  He can feel every
twitch of Polnareff’s abs and thighs as he restrains himself, because Abdul
knows he craves nothing more at this moment than to pull all the way out and
slam back inside of him.  Abdul decides to let him do just that.
                Once his muscles finally relax, he opens his eyes and looks
down on Polnareff with narrowed eyes.  Polnareff frowns slightly, opening his
mouth to ask why, but Abdul speaks before he gets the chance.
                “I want to see the full abilities of your perfect body,” Abdul
challenges, clenching his muscles down hard.  Polnareff opens his mouth and
grunts.
                “Are you – hngh – are you sure?” he chokes out, fingers tensing
on Abdul’s hips.  Abdul growls, “Show me,” in his dark voice, and Polnareff
grips so hard on his hips that he cries out.
                Polnareff’s biceps tense as he lifts Abdul into the air and
pulls all the way back out.  Abdul has time for half of a breath before his
lover slams back into him, forcing the air out of him in a scream.  He leaves
angry red marks all down Polnareff’s abs as he thrusts into him.  The pace is
quick and erratic enough that Abdul can’t match it, but he tilts his hips just
right and is screaming again, this time something vaguely sounding like
“Jean!”  He feels his lover’s body begin to shake and knows he’s close, so he
leans forward and bites down into the mark on his breast that he left earlier. 
The combination of pain and pleasure brings Polnareff to a stuttering stop,
coming inside of Abdul in thick, warm shots.  Abdul is following him fast, hand
flying to his own cock and pumping himself before Polnareff can soften inside
of him.
                Abdul opens his mouth to ask permission of Polnareff, but all
that comes out is a long, low moan.  He swallows thickly and tries again,
gasping as his hand works himself to completion.
                “C-can I…”  Polnareff squeezes his hands on his thighs and
grunts his permission.  Abdul’s entire body tenses and he hears his teeth grind
together as he comes, forcing his eyes open to watch his come paint Polnareff’s
pale body like a canvas.  It lands on his chest, crossing the circle of red
teeth marks on his pectoral and the scratches down his abs, and Abdul takes his
hand off of himself.
                Polnareff pushes him off of his cock, overstimulated and
oversensitive, and Abdul does so, curling up beside him and trying to catch his
breath.
                “You’re gorgeous,” he breathes into Polnareff’s ear, licking a
quick stripe up his lobe.
                “Oui, and now I’m gross,” he replies with a chuckle, turning
his head to press a kiss to Abdul’s lips.  “Can we go take a shower now?” 
Abdul smiled and kissed his lover deeply, smiling into the kiss.  There was
nothing – absolutely nothing– that he loved more than this.
***** 15. Sweet and Passionate *****
Chapter Summary
     Polnareff had been planning this date for weeks.
     In which Polnareff takes Abdul out for a lovely night in Paris.
Chapter Notes
     I like how just after I post "hey i probably won't be posting a lot,"
     i post like 2 within a few hours. hot diggity dog.
                Polnareff had been planning for weeks; Abdul had noticed phone
calls here and there, but nothing else out of the ordinary.
                They were in Paris on holiday, staying in the apartment
Polnareff kept while they were in Cairo.  It was spring in Paris, filled with
people and chatter up and down the sidewalks, the sun shining down and warming
their skin as Polnareff toured him, showing him the stomping grounds of his
youth.  After a week of their tourist-type travels, Polnareff cornered him one
evening in a suit and tie and pressed a kiss to his mouth, asking him if he
would dress up for him.  Abdul questioned nothing out loud, but did as he was
asked, letting his hair down and stringing it into a loose band, donning his
most ornate robes.
                He wouldn’t answer questions as he threaded his fingers through
his lover’s, leisurely strolling through the streets of Paris with the raised
eyebrows of citizens and tourist alike following in their wake.  Abdul feels
overdressed in his ornate clothes, but when he thinks back to the high class
restaurant, seeing them on the floor is almost comical.
                Polnareff presses butterfly kisses down his torso, unbuttoning
and removing his pants with reverence and love, folding them gently and placing
them on the floor.  He plants a kiss just above the waistband of his
underclothes, gently prying them off and taking the head of his cock into his
mouth.  Abdul gasps, just as he did when he took the first bite of that lovely
food, and threads his fingers through his lover’s hair.
                They finish dinner just as the sun is setting over the city,
and Polnareff picks up a basket with a bottle of wine and other objects that
Abdul can’t guess at.  He sets it on his arm and links the other one through
Abdul’s, walking slowly as the blues of the sky turn to oranges, then purples,
then the dusky black of night.  Polnareff’s pale skin is a stark contrast to
the black of the night sky, but in their bed as Polnareff slowly curls his
fingers inside of Abdul, his skin is the same color of the wine in their
basket, dark and red and sparkling.  When Abdul whimpers, Polnareff’s skin
burns, and he knows the taste of it would be the same as that wine, sweet and
rich, but he can’t taste it while his bottom lip is sucked into his teeth and
Polnareff is slipping another finger inside of him, pressing a kiss to each
corner of his mouth.
                Abdul’s mouth opens wide at the magnificence of the Eiffel
tower, lit up against the dark sky.  He has seen it before, but never has he
been overcome with such emotion, such a lack of words and actions.  The lawn
before the tower is empty and Speedwagon Foundation agents nod to them as they
pass through, Polnareff setting down his basket and revealing its contents. 
Inside was the bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and a blanket that Polnareff
spreads with care, offering his lover a seat before gently sitting beside him,
pouring their wine.  Abdul grips his hand as they sit beneath the Eiffel tower,
glasses of wine in their other hands, just sharing body heat and gentle
kisses.  And as Polnareff slowly thrusts into him, he’s gripping Abdul’s hand
again, but this time so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.  He
whispers words into his ear that he wouldn't dare say in public, for fear of
the Speedwagon Agents or anyone else overhearing them; but, in the privacy of
Polnareff’s apartment, he can drip love and lust into his ear with hot breath,
and Abdul can moan and cry out as Polnareff angles his hips just so and gently
fucks him.
                As they packed their things, bottle of wine finished, their
touches were heated and feverish, and the trip back to the apartment was quick
and full of a struggle to keep hands to themselves.  As Polnareff ushered Abdul
through the door, though, it became all slow kisses and soft touches.  He laid
Abdul on the bed gently, kissing every part of his dark skin, slowly stripping
them both of their ornate clothes, sweetly kissing and touching as if he were
fragile china.
                “Je t’aime,” whispers Polnareff into Abdul’s ear as his lover
comes.  He presses their foreheads together and Abdul opens his mouth to cry
out, fingernails digging into Polnareff’s thick arms as the orgasm wracks his
body.  He feels kisses pressed to his eyelids as he squeezes them shut, and
feels his chest tighten with unbearable emotion.
                After Polnareff comes with a choked moan, he lies down beside
Abdul and catches his breath, grip on Abdul’s hand softening.  Abdul turns to
him, chest still tight, and gently holds his jaw in his free hand, catching his
lover’s lips in a deep kiss.  He presses a peck to either of his cheeks before
he pulls away, making sure their eyes are locked.
                “Ana baħibbak,” he sighs, and kisses the tears at the corner of
his lover’s eyes away.
***** 1. Cuddling *****
Chapter Summary
     Abdul has been in the hospital since Dio's defeat, and he's finally
     awake and available to be seen. Polnareff, of course, is his first
     visitor.
     Also, Polnareff is inadvertently (and a little on purpose) a giant
     SAP.
Chapter Notes
     I REALLY GOTTA STOP WATCHING STEVEN UNIVERSE WHILE I WRITE THESE.
     so it may seem a little spacey and i'm sorry i'm nearing the end of
     season one and important things are happening but i still want to
     write these aaaagh.
     :*
             Polnareff fidgets in front of the door, rolling the bouquet of
white flowers in his hands.  He shouldn’t be nervous, he thinks to himself, but
it’s been so long since he’s seen him.  He hasn’t seen him since… well… it’s
best not to think of that now.  Inhaling a deep breath through his nose, he
reaches forward and pulls down the handle of the door.
              Sitting in the middle of a hospital bed, eyes closed and legs
crossed, is a sight Polnareff never thought he would see again.  Like a cheesy
romance movie, the sun beams through the window, framing the body of Mohammed
Abdul, meditating with his hair down and draped over his shoulder.  He looks
serene and, most importantly, alive.
                “Jean,” greeted Abdul, and Polnareff felt something in his
heart snap.  He chokes on his own words, unable to stem the flow of tears that
run down his face as he makes his way toward the bed.
                “Mohammed,” he whimpers, standing at the edge of the bed,
unsure of whether to sit down or hold him or kiss him or do anything but watch
the living body breathe before him.
                “Are those for me?” Abdul asks with a sense of normality, as if
he hadn’t been in a coma for the past two months, as if he hadn’t died back
there in the mansion.  Polnareff looks at the flowers in his hand, having
forgotten that they were even there, and tries to bring some composure back to
himself.
                “Uh, yeah.”  He hands them over to Abdul, who closes his eyes
and inhales deeply, then sets them so that they’re lying on the table beside
the bed.  “I don’t know what they are, but the florist said that they were the
best ones so I just went with it.”  He’s blushing and he can feel it, but Abdul
is smiling and that’s all that matters.
                “They’re jasmine,” he explains.  “They represent love that is
sweet.”  Abdul leans over and presses their lips gently together, reaching up
with his thumb to swipe a tear off of his face.
                “I didn’t even tell her…” Polnareff laughs when Abdul pulls
away.  “I just said you were in the hospital and… I don’t know.”
                “You’re not very good at hiding your feelings, Jean.”  Abdul
smirked.  “Especially when it comes to me.”  Polnareff feels the blood heat up
his face and the tips of his ears and Abdul laughs, a low tone that vibrates
his heart in his chest.  They continue to just look at each other for a moment,
Polnareff trying to swallow the lump in his throat, when Abdul shifts into a
lying position.
                “Do you wish to come sit with me?” he asks, patting his hand on
the spot he makes beside him, wriggling over to the edge of the hospital bed.
                “Uh… can I?”  Polnareff looks behind him at the closed door and
feels his face heat up again.  He hasn’t touched Abdul in so long and he’s not
sure what he’ll do once their skin touches again.  Abdul grins knowingly and
pats the space again.
                “Whether you can or not, I would be grateful if you did.”  He
couldn’t resist those softened eyes, so he sighs and climbs over the edge of
the bed and settles in beside him.  Abdul wraps an arm around him immediately,
and already Polnareff feels himself choking up.  The warmth of a body he never
thought he’d feel again, lips soft and full pressing against his neck so
lightly they almost weren’t there.
                “Mohammed,” Polnareff gasps, a shiver running through him. 
“What about…”  Abdul sucks a deep bruise into his lover’s neck, cutting him
off.
                “I have been denied real human contact for months,” he growls
into his ear.  “And I’ve missed yours most of all.”
                “Won’t someone – ah! – come in?” he breathes, arching his back
as Abdul kisses down his neck to the junction of his shoulder.
                “We shall have to make it quick then.”  He licks a stripe up
the shell of his ear.  “Come, lift your leg around here.”  They maneuver
themselves so that Polnareff’s legs are straddling Abdul’s hips, his ass
resting on Abdul’s hips.  He involuntarily grinds down as Abdul nips at his
collarbone, letting a hand come around and grip his ass.
                “Ah!” breathes Abdul, bringing his hand around and reaching
into Polnareff’s left pocket, searching for… there it is.  He quirks an eyebrow
and pulls a small tube out of Polnareff’s pocket, waving it in front of his
face with a knowing smirk.  “Not much has changed the past few months, I see.” 
Polnareff’s face flushes a deep red and he turns his head away.  Abdul chuckles
and brings a hand up to his face, cloth covering cool metal as he traces a
finger down the Frenchman’s jawline.  He coaxes his face back to the front,
pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.  “Take your pants off.”
                Polnareff lifts himself up, unbuttoning his pants and
contorting so he can peel them off, all the while watching Abdul untie and
unwrap the cloth wrapped around his prosthetic arms.  He stops just past his
wrist, light glinting off the metal as he clenches and releases his fist.  He
takes the bottle and slicks up the appendages, pressing his lips to Polnareff’s
as he reaches around and prods at his entrance.
                “Agh!” Polnareff gasps, face contorting into a grimace. 
Abdul’s face falls and he pulls his hand away, mouth agape.
                “I’m… I’m sorry,” he quavers.  “I know that they are not…
mine.  This is the furthest the technology goes and there isn’t… ah!” 
Polnareff leans forward too quickly and bumps their faces together, trying to
press a kiss to the corners of his lips.
                “No, I’m sorry,” he says, foreheads pressed together.  “I was
only surprised.  I would rather have that than… nothing… at all…”  His voice
grows small and he tries to look away, but Abdul turns his head back and kisses
him, deeply and slowly.  He feels Magician’s Red come into existence for a
moment, and when the fingers press against him again, they’re warm.  Abdul
slips one finger in and Polnareff moans into his mouth.  He searches for a
moment and then smiles into the kiss and crooks his finger.  His lover throws
his head back and lets out a choked groan, and Abdul takes the moment to bite
down lightly into the meat of his neck.  Abdul slips another finger in and
scissors him open, licking into his mouth as he gasps wantonly, mouth open.
                “Ngh, I’m ready,” Polnareff gasps into Abdul’s mouth, and he
whines when Abdul pulls his fingers out.  They situate themselves so Polnareff
is just above him, and he grits his teeth as he slides down his cock.
                “Agh… you are much tighter than I remember,” Abdul remarks,
punctuated by a grunt.  Polnareff barks a laugh as he slides down further.
                “It’s been – agh – quite some time,” he grunts, trying to force
his muscles to relax.  He brings his hand up and grips Abdul’s shoulder, using
the other for balance.  When he finally reaches the base, he shudders, and the
shudder runs through him and into Abdul.
                “I missed this.”  Abdul puts his hand on Polnareff’s arm where
it grips his shoulder and squeezes, and then Polnareff rolls his hips.
                “Jeaaaaaan,” Abdul moans, much louder than he intended.  When
his voice quiets, he hears something and he gasps, eyes flying open and head
craning toward the source of the noise.  Polnareff chokes on a gasp and his
body stills completely.
                “Oh my God!  I – ah – knew it was something – ahaha – but I
didn’t – oh my god my god,” cries Kakyoin from the open door.  He’s bent over
so far in his wheelchair that he’s nearly falling out of it, but Jotaro’s hand
is gripping the back of his hospital gown.  He’s laughing so hard that he
snorts, cherry earrings bouncing as his shoulders quake.  Jotaro is standing on
his side, hat pulled as far down as possible without it falling off, while
Joseph stands next to him with his mouth all the way open.  Both of their faces
are dark red, and Polnareff and Abdul can feel their faces filling up with just
as much blood.
                “I’m so – oh god – sorry.  Wow.”  He breathes in deeply and
wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes, sitting up.  “We’ll come back
later.”  Kakyoin wheels himself around, ushering Joseph and Jotaro out of the
room, then pulling his hand into the air before he closes the door.  “Have
fun!”
                Their muscles slowly regain fluidity and Polnareff leans
forward to press his forehead to Abdul’s.  He starts to shake with laughter,
and soon Abdul is doing the same, falling all over each other as they giggle
and gasp.
                                      **
                Sweaty and sucking in deep breaths, they lie beside each other,
arms wrapped around and skin on skin.  Polnareff inhales the scent of Abdul,
still warm and familiar, pressing a kiss to his neck.  The metal fingers are
caressing the baby hairs on the back of his neck.
                “I’m glad you’re back,” Polnareff whispers, trying to snuggle
down as far as he can into Abdul’s strong arms.  He feels Abdul smile into his
hair.
                “As am I, Jean.”
***** 7. Naked/Clothed *****
Chapter Summary
     Pol's wearing clothes, Abdul isn't.
Chapter Notes
     sweet shit i finally updated this again.
     we're finally in amsterdam, but still have a little while before we
     settle all the way down, but i've got plans for the next like 5
     updates done so... i should be able to pump those out with ease!
     :* Hope this makes your wednesday a little better!
               There’s a rush that Polnareff gets when he sees his husband tied
down that he doesn’t get when they usually have sex.  Abdul, normally so
powerful and able, now rendered completely immobile by his hands.  Even in his
vulnerable state – naked, with silver silk scarves tied around his wrists and
ankles to each post of the bed – he still looks incredibly strong, muscles
tensing as he tests the restraints, veins rising inside of his skin and lining
every hard muscle.
                Polnareff pulls the strap of his top up before he climbs onto
the bed and straddles Abdul’s hips.  The white of his pants are a stark
contrast to Abdul’s dark skin, a perfect line of distinction between their
bodies.  He locks eyes with Abdul and smirks, watching his nostrils flare and
his lids flutter closed as Polnareff rocks his hips ever so slightly.
                “What a pervert,” Polnareff teases.  Abdul’s breathing is
already heavy, his broad chest rising and falling with such weight that his
skin is beginning to glisten with sweat, but most importantly, he’s already
hard.  Polnareff isn’t surprised – he had sucked him off until his entire body
clenched, then lifted off of him and left him tied to the bed for… how long was
it?  Somewhere in the ballpark of an episode of a French drama.
                There’s a jolt to Polnareff’s cock as Abdul growls at him, fire
behind his eyes hot enough to burn.
                “Mon cher,” he scolds, trailing a pale finger down Abdul’s
dark, heaving chest.  “Patience.”
                “I’ve been here since this afternoon, Jean,” Abdul grunts.  His
muscles strain as he pulls the restraints taught.  Concern splashes across
Polnareff’s face as he watches Abdul struggle; for a moment, he’s afraid that
Abdul might bust the posts of the bed – he has the power to, but has never done
it before.  But, Abdul’s muscles thankfully relax without leaving a mark, and
Polnareff can only hope that Abdul didn’t notice his body tense up.  The
careless façade really worked for Abdul, and he couldn’t go breaking the
illusion now.
                He reaches up just as Abdul’s body begins to settle down again
and tweaks both of his nipples.  Abdul throws his head back into the pillow and
a shout tears out of his throat that causes his whole body to shake.  Polnareff
bends over and begins to soothe his injury immediately, taking one nipple
gently into his mouth and massaging it with his tongue.  He feels Abdul’s body
being to relax again as he moves to the other nipple, his throat opening and
breathing a sigh.  His husband grinds his hips up into Polnareff’s ass as he
mouths down his torso, and if there isn’t anything Polnareff would give to just
rip of his pants and sink down on that cock this very second.  But he has other
work to do.
                He steels his nerves and sits up straight, quirking an eyebrow
down at the other man.
                “White pants, Momo,” he scolds.  He gets up completely,
breaking all contact with Abdul, and moves down the bed.  He positions himself
on his knees between Abdul’s legs and licks a wet, wide strip up his cock.  He
takes just the tip into his mouth and tastes the salty precum as he flicks the
slit, then pulls his head off completely.
                “Jeaaaan,” Abdul whines, and Polnareff smiles with
satisfaction.  Just to hear the power leave his voice, the deflated baritone of
a man at wit’s end – it’s Polnareff’s favorite.
                He leans back over Abdul’s cock and opens his mouth, relaxing
the back of his throat and taking Abdul all the way down in a quick motion. 
Abdul shouts again and bucks up into Polnareff’s throat, movements needy and
erratic.  A long time ago, Abdul wouldn’t let go like this, worried about
Polnareff’s breathing and his safety and everything else, but Polnareff finally
broke him down.  And now, every single time is as good as the last.
                Polnareff hollows his cheeks and sucks as Abdul fucks his face,
stuttering to a stop as his thighs tense beneath the Frenchman’s hands.  He
comes in thick ropes down Polnareff’s throat, and he swallows it down around
Abdul’s softening cock, pulling off only when Abdul whines at the
overstimulation.
                “You’ve been eating more fruit,” states Polnareff, wiping a bit
off of the corner of his lip and licking it off of his finger.  “I like it.” 
He crawls over Abdul’s body and kisses him, his lips lax and jaw slack beneath
his own.
                Abdul is a mess, his dark hair a halo around his head where
it’s splayed around their pillows, eyes still glazed over with lust and a sheen
of sweat on his skin as he comes down from his orgasm.  His eyes come back to
life when Polnareff opens up his pants, however, and his exhaustion hides
behind his encouragement.
                “Jean,” he breathes as Polnareff kneels above his face, pumping
himself, dripping precum onto Abdul’s face.  It doesn’t take him long to come,
not with Abdul’s voice – broken and strained – groaning his name and his teeth
biting down on that plump bottom lip in between filthy encouragements.
                His come lands on Abdul’s face, painting a white streak
crossing the scar on his cheek and across his lips.  As soon as his breathing
is under control again, he’s already up at the posts, untying Abdul’s wrists
and ankles from their restraints, then he’s up to his face and kissing it in
all the spots that are clear.
                “I’m sorry for leaving you here for so long,” Polnareff says,
taking a cloth from their bedside drawer and cleaning up his face.  Abdul
presses a quick kiss to his lips, knowing that he’s not sorry at all.
***** 25: With Toys *****
Chapter Summary
     Abdul brings back a gift from Japan and it's not quite what Polnareff
     is expecting.
Chapter Notes
     this is 666 words
     i did not do that on purpose
See the end of the chapter for more notes
               When Abdul told Polnareff he was bringing back a gift from
Japan, he wasn’t expecting this.  A small gift from Jotaro or Kakyoin, maybe,
but not the box sitting in his lap.  His Japanese was rusty, but he didn’t have
to be fluent to know what the box said.
                “Electrified nipple clamps?” he chokes.  Abdul responds with
only a hum in the back of his throat and enters the kitchen.  When Polnareff
gets up and follows him, the scent of cardamom is already filling the room, and
Abdul’s back is turned where he hunches over the stove.
                “Did you use the rest of the cinnamon?” he asks with
nonchalance, as if he didn’t just drop electrified nipple clampsinto his
lover’s lap.
                “There’s more sticks on the counter.”  Polnareff shook his head
and forced himself to get back to the point.  “Why the hell was thisthe thing
you brought from Japan?”  He wasn’t expecting a real answer, but when Abdul
gives him one, he wishes he could be more surprised.
                “Kakyoin’s suggestion,” he explains, simmering chicken in a
pan.  “If you wish for me to return them, I will.”  Polnareff tries to let out
the breath that catches in his throat, but his face heats up and he knows he’s
given it away.
                “I… never said we should return them,” he mutters, voice
growing smaller as it reaches the end of his sentence.  He shifts on his feet,
catching a smile tugging at Abdul’s lips as he cooks.
                                      **
                The clamps themselves don’t hurt, but with every shift of his
body, Polnareff has to hold back a gasp.  It isn’t his fault his body’s so
sensitive, and it’s usually more of a curse than a blessing.
                “Be sure to let me know if it becomes too much,” says Abdul in
his most caring voice, but Polnareff can already hear the burning lust
thickening every word.
                Polnareff takes in a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling
where he lies on his back on the bed.  He feels his hands clench the sheets
involuntarily as Abdul counts down, and he tries to relax his body, utterly
failing.  And then Abdul turned the knob.
                “Aaah!” yelps Polnareff, feeling the jolt run into the most
sensitive parts of his body.  He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut,
letting the fuzziness flow through his nipples.  It’s not bad, but it
isstrange.  Abdul stops the flow of electricity, and Polnareff can’t hear
anything but the blood roaring in his ears.  When he opens his eyes, Abdul is
above him on all fours and, with a kiss, he slips his hand below his lover’s
waistband.
                “Is it safe to make the assumption,” growls Abdul as he slides
a thick finger between the Frenchman’s already wet lips.  “That you liked it?” 
He slides his finger over Polnareff’s clit and he gasps; Abdul’s fingers are
warm where they enter him, crooking up inside and sending shivers up and down
Polnareff’s body.
                Abdul’s lips leave his and he turns the knob again, sending him
back into his writhing, gasping trance.  He feels Abdul’s fingers move inside
him, knows somewhere in the back of his mind that his head is licking and
kissing down his body.  Every feeling, though, is a backdrop to the scream of
electricity through him.  Polnareff feels his throat stretch and become raw as
Abdul’s mouth latches onto his clit, abusing it while his fingers crook.  White
light bursts behind his eyes as he squeezes them shut, tremors wracking his
whole body and warmth seeping out from between his legs and into Abdul’s
mouth.  All at once the sensations disappear, and Polnareff is left shaking and
whimpering in silence.
                When Abdul comes up for a kiss he can taste himself, and he
pushes Abdul off of him weakly.  His lover’s eyebrow is arched up toward his
hairline, asking a silent question between the two of them.
                “Is there a higher setting?” Polnareff asks, and his face feels
hot.
Chapter End Notes
     Yes, that is transman Polnareff you're seeing. Please, if you share,
     don't tag it as a genderbend or anything like that :) I'm all for
     genderbends, but that's not what this is.
***** 12. Fingering *****
Chapter Summary
     Polnareff barely escapes from Daniel J. D'Arby with her life. Abdul
     lets her know how devastating that would have been.
Chapter Notes
     so i used names as close as I could get to their masculine names.
     Jeanne is Polnareff and Midhah is Abdul. Midhah means something
     similar to Mohammed, so I felt that it was appropriate! :)
     also, this is totally a genderbend, and I LOVE writing ladies like
     hnnnngh here we go.
     enjoy <3
               Their Cairo hotel room is full of stale air when they enter, but
Abdul doesn’t even give Polnareff a chance to prop a window before she’s
shoving her against the door.
                Polnareff breathes raggedly into Abdul’s mouth, wanting to open
the window, but failing miserably at focusing on anything but the slide of
their lips together.  Everything about Abdul is soft – her full lips, her skin,
her voice – but her kisses are not; she presses her body hard into Polnareff’s
and pinches her between the door.  Polnareff moans into her mouth, and feels
her whole body shiver.
                “How could you recklessly bet your life like that?” asks Abdul
in her deep voice.  She’s moved her mouth to the pale, tender flesh of her
lover’s neck, and sucks a deep bruise into it.  “Did you not think I would be
terrified, Jeanne?”  Even as she reprimands, her name still rolls off of
Abdul’s tongue like sweet molasses, dripping with reverence and love and worry.
                “I didn’t… ah!” Abdul presses her warm palm between Polnareff’s
legs, and she gasps.
                “You didn’t what?” she demands, but captures her mouth again. 
“Think about what I would do without you?” Abdul bites down on her bottom lip
and coaxes a whine out of her throat.  “I thought I lost you.”  Her fingers pop
the button of her tight white pants, then slip beneath the waistband of her
panties.  Her fingers are warm – so warm – where they press into her. 
Polnareff’s knees turn to jelly and she slides down the door, unable to hold
her body up with Abdul’s perfect fingers inside of her.
                “Can we, uh…” breathes Polnareff, making a valiant attempt to
speak but failing miserably.  She huffs the rest of her sentence out
unintelligibly as her body wracks with shivers.  Abdul laughs into her mouth,
vibrating her whole being, and then lifts her into the air bridal style.
                Polnareff’s face is as red as the sheets when Abdul lies her
down on them, and she struggles to keep her voice down as she pulls a nipple
into her mouth.
                “Midhah…” she moans, sliding a hand into Abdul’s hair.  Her
fingers curl inside of her and Polnareff squeezes her legs together
uncontrollably.
                “If I had lost you to D’Arby,” whispers Abdul, tilting her head
and meeting Polnareff’s eyes, which are already swimming with tears.  “I would
go mad with hunger.”  She curls her fingers up again roughly and Polnareff
chokes.  “I have to be sure that you are still here – that you are still real.”
                Abdul lowers her body so that her face rests between
Polnareff’s silky smooth legs and latches onto her clit.  She feels Polnareff’s
whole body shake as she sucks and curls her fingers over and over again.  Her
voice comes undone and tears out of her throat, a primal scream as she comes
and squeezes her legs around Abdul’s head.  Her mouth is broken on Polnareff’s
lips while she shakes.
                She comes back up and pulls their mouths together, forcing her
tongue past Polnareff’s lips and letting her taste the sweetness that her body
is.
                “I want to hear your voice, Jeanne,” she growls into her mouth,
and she shivers when Polnareff whines.  “I want D’Arby to hear you; I want him
to know that you belong to me.”
                Polnareff squeezes her eyes shut as Abdul begins to thrust her
fingers violently inside of her.  Her voice is like a symphony in Abdul’s ears,
choked whimpers elevating to drawn-out moans.  She stares at Polnareff like
she’s starving, watching every twitch of her pale skin, licking the sweat
running between her breasts, feeling her toes curl where they rest on her
back.  Angling her wrist, Polnareff’s sounds elevate to a scream that rips out
of her throat, and Abdul gets what she’s looking for.  Her whole body is
shaking violently as she comes, liquid drenching Abdul’s hand and chest and the
sheets below them.  Her fingers don’t stop until Polnareff pushes her weakly
away, gasping for air like she’s drowning.
                “Oh god,” she moans when she sits up.  There’s a dark spot on
the bed created by her fluids, and she feels her face burn.  Abdul’s lips touch
her cheek, fire on top of fire.
                “I am overjoyed and relieved that I did not lose you,” Abdul
sighs, pressing love in the form of kisses all over her face.  She pulls her
face back and looks into her lover’s eyes and smiles.  “But we should spend
some time discussing your poker face.”
***** 11. Sub/Dom *****
Chapter Summary
     Polnareff is a dom.
     hella
Chapter Notes
     this is the only dom/sub thing i've ever written and probably ever
     will write i'm sorry i'm trash
     i hope this is ok!
     i just really like the idea of Polnareff in heels *HUFFS*
               Abdul is powerful – incredibly so – full of fire and intensity. 
He is aware completely of his own power, as is Polnareff, yet here they are,
Polnareff looking down on him like he’s weak and helpless.
                His foot is covered in a beautiful black heel, resting now on
Abdul’s shoulder and pressing painfully into his skin.  Polnareff holds a
control in one hand, which wirelessly attaches to the small vibrator attached
to Abdul’s cock, and a cigarette in the other.  He exudes strength and
confidence, the likes of which Abdul only sees when Silver Chariot is present,
but his cheeks are still pink and his chest is puffed out like they get when
he’s embarrassed.
                “What did I tell you?” Polnareff asks, voice silky and
dangerous.  Abdul recognizes the trap and keeps his silence.  Polnareff smiles
and cups his chin in his hand, rewarding Abdul with a kiss and a smile.  He
flicks the switch on the control in his hand, and vibrations wrack through
Abdul’s cock.
                “Agh!” he cries, not prepared for the sensations that run
through him as Polnareff switches straight to the highest setting.  As
immediately as it started, it stops, and Abdul is left breathing harshly
through his nose.
                “Momo,” drawls Polnareff with a sad edge.  “How could you
disappoint me like that?  You were doing so well.”  He presses his heel harder
into Abdul’s shoulder, pressing him back and forcing him to lie on the floor. 
Abdul’s arms are painfully pinned underneath him, silk ties rubbing against the
carpet, and he chokes back his moan.
                Polnareff takes a drag of his cigarette and bends over, blowing
it into Abdul’s face.
                “If you’re going to break the rules, you’re going to have to be
punished.”  Abdul feels a thrill of excitement run through him and struggles
not to let the gasp escape his throat.  Polnareff’s fingers remove the
vibrator, carefully avoiding touching his burning flesh, and slide a tight ring
down the base of his cock.  Abdul can feel how tight it is, knowing that it
will succeed at its purpose.
                The vibrator is replaced quickly, and Abdul smells the lube
just as quickly as Polnareff opens it, slicking up his fingers.  Abdul looks up
at him, but Polnareff is deliberately avoiding his eyes, and it drives him
mad.  In the next moment, he comes down to where Abdul is on the floor and
forces him to roll over onto his stomach, cupping his clean hand around his hip
and wrenching it upward so his face is pressed into the carpet.  At the same
time that Polnareff flicks the switch on the controller, he shoves his fingers
roughly into Abdul’s perked ass, and Abdul does all he can not to scream.
                “What a good boy,” he purrs, lying his broad chest along
Abdul’s back.  His nipples are hard where they press into his skin, and he
sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.  “Mon cher.”  His fingers curl deep inside
of Abdul and scrape against his prostate, forcing a groan out of his mouth.  He
gasps and sucks a breath in, but the damage has already been done.
                “Oh, Momo, you were doing so well,” sighs Polnareff, and he
removes his fingers from his ass.  The vibrator stays on, however, and Abdul
remains breathing harshly through his nose.  Polnareff comes back with a ball
gag in his hand and pops it into his lover’s mouth, tying it around the back of
his head.
                A shiver runs up Abdul’s cock as he tests the ball gag and
bites down.  He would be lying if he said that he didn’t love the feeling of
his mouth being filled like this, all of it Polnareff’s doing, stripping away
his power.
                The vibrator switches to its highest setting, and something
much larger than Polnareff’s fingers, blunt and hard, butts up against his
ass.  He feels himself clench in excitement, and immediately forces himself to
relax.
                “You like it, don’t you?” asks Polnareff, running a hand
lovingly over the mound of his ass.  Abdul groans low in his throat and
Polnareff smacks him so hard tears pierce his eyes.  He can feel his cock
straining and dripping onto the carpet, jumping as Polnareff shoves his cock
inside of Abdul.  His throat burns as he screams out through the gag, and the
tears in his eyes only pick up.  He needs to get off, needs to cum, but knows
Polnareff’s not going to let him until he’s done.
                Polnareff takes mercy on him and fucks him hard and fast,
reaching his climax quickly.  Abdul realizes that he must have been on the edge
of coming for most of the session, holding off just to make it better for his
lover.  If he wasn’t so focused on the coiling heat in his belly, boiling and
burning into discomfort, his chest would tighten with love.
                He feels Polnareff stutter in his thrusts, followed by the
thick, hot ropes of come coating his insides.
                “Do you want to come?” asks Polnareff, voice breathy and
exhausted.  He groans affirmation around the gag, but it’s not enough. 
Polnareff pulls out of him and unwraps the ball gag from his face, releasing
the knots around his wrists and turning him over.  He props him up against the
bed and dives between his legs, removing the vibrator and leaving Abdul feeling
broken.
                “Do you want to come?” he repeats, impossibly blue eyes
flicking up beneath his lashes.
                “Yes,” he whines.  “Jean.  Please.”  And Polnareff rolls the
cock ring off, swallowing him down completely.  Abdul wraps a hand tightly into
his hair, screaming his name as he comes down his throat.  The tears continue
to spill down his face and Polnareff lifts up, meeting him in a gentle kiss.
                “Are you OK?” he asks gently, voice soft and calm.  Abdul’s
eyes flutter.
                “Yes,” he replies with a smile.  “I am.”
                “Good enough for a bath?”  Abdul feels his heart melt inside of
his chest.  The love and care swim in Polnareff’s eyes; no matter how he tries
to hide it, it’s there and it’s beautiful.
                “Yes,” replies Abdul, and Polnareff lifts him from the floor
and takes him to their bathroom.
***** 27. Rough, Biting, Scratching *****
Chapter Summary
     Anubis!Polnareff tries to attack Abdul, but Abdul doesn't quite
     realize it's a violent attack.
Chapter Notes
     I'm sorry.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
               Everything had been going perfect, and Anubis was sure he had
won.  Getting the Frenchman under his influence was easy, and he knew that
taking out the rest of the group was going to be simple.  The knowledge to go
to the hotel was in his mind, visualizing the room he shared with the Egyptian,
and the most logical course of action was to go there first.
                He forces Polnareff to open the door, and is pleased to find
that Abdul is still here in the room; what an easy target.  Lord Dio will be
most pleased with me.
                “Jean,” greets Abdul, standing up from his chair.  There is a
smile on his face, and Anubis can’t help but feel joy.  Yes, you smile while I
spill your insides onto the floor!  He uses Polnareff’s body to rush forward
and lift Abdul by his robes, slamming him against the wall.  But, when he goes
to impale him with the sword, he finds the body resisting.  What?  I have
complete control!  Kill him!
                “So this is how we are going to be today, hm?” breathes Abdul. 
Anubis feels an uncontrolled shiver run through Polnareff’s body as Abdul
grinds his hips up to meet Polnareff’s.  Against Anubis’ will, Polnareff
responds in kind and grinds his crotch down.
                No!  Fight him!  Kill him!  He forces as much violence into his
control of the body as he can, and finally he feels it start to move.  The
violent impulses are making their way into his muscles, and Anubis swells with
joy – I have overcome his will!
                Polnareff’s whole body reacts as he lifts Abdul up around his
hips and slams him against the wall again, but instead of a cry of pain, Abdul
lets out a wanton moan of pleasure and reaches beneath his waistband to shove
his pants down and take his cock into his hand.  No! shouts Anubis in his
mind.  No!  Bring him pain!  Thrust the sword into his heart!  He feels
Polnareff’s resolve start to break – all he needs to do is reach back and grip
the sword resting against his body, then thrust it into the already
incapacitated man.  It’s that simple.  Yet why can’t I make him do it?
                Abdul’s fingers are deftly moving along Polnareff’s pants
buttons while Anubis tries to force him to reach for the sword, but something
gets mixed up in the signals, and as soon as his cock is freed, he thrusts up
into Abdul.
                “Jean!” the man screams.  The scream is so violent that he
should be in pain, he should be impaled on the sword.  He is still attacking
violently, thinks Anubis, frustrated and enraged.  He thinks that he’s truly
carrying out my will, but his body is reacting in a different way!  I’ll never
get him to kill him at this rate!  Abdul clenches tightly around Polnareff and
lets out a choked sob, tears streaming down his face.  His fingernails dig up
Polnareff’s back – It’s increasing his attack drive, but there are no mortal
wounds!
                Polnareff sinks his teeth into the flesh of Abdul’s neck so
hard that Anubis tastes the blood, and the thinks that maybe this is it.  He’s
finally attacking him!
                “Jean!” Abdul shouts.  “Yes!”
                The door to the hotel room slams open, but Anubis can’t get
Polnareff’s body to turn around.
                Come on, you buffoon!  Turn around!  No matter how he tries, he
can’t get Polnareff’s body to turn.  He feels his frustration and panic boil
over as Polnareff releases himself inside Abdul.
                “He’s being controlled by another stand!” shouts a voice behind
him, and he knows that it’s Jotaro Kujo, knows that it’s the target he’s been
searching for.  That’s him!  Just turn around!
                But he knows he’s finished when he feels a blast of heat that
slams him against the opposite wall.  As Jotaro and Anubis converge on him, he
still feels the resistance from Polnareff’s body, and knows, ultimately, that
he’s finished.
Chapter End Notes
     also this is completely out of storyline, i did that on purpose,
     gomen.
     i know he never sees abdul while he's possessed but hey. porn.
***** 6. Clothed Getting Off *****
Chapter Summary
     On the train to India, Abdul is a little drunk.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
               “To defeating Dio’s cronies!” calls Joseph in a toast, and the
other four men join in his chorus, clinking their glasses in the center in a
toast.  They were finally on the train to India, feeling light and confident. 
Though they had gotten into quite a few mishaps on the way, they were now on
the road to Cairo again, and everything was going well.  They had left Anne to
meet her father, defeated a few Stand users, and were well on their way.  They
deserved some sort of celebration.
                Polnareff was having an animated conversation with Kakyoin,
whose tongue had loosened up with a glass or two of wine, which consisted of
tossing vague insults back and forth at one another and reliving Yellow
Temperance’s hilarious Kakyoin impression.  He can feel Abdul staring at the
side of his head, so he turns to pull him into the tipsy conversation, but
finds Abdul’s glazed over, drunken eyes and pink scars on his cheeks.
                “You ok, Abdul?” he asks him with a laugh.  Abdul turns to him
slowly and smiles, then starts laughing and turns to Mr. Joestar to join a
conversation with him.  Polnareff shrugs and turns back to Kakyoin, taking
another sip of his wine.
                “I just don’t know why it took Jotaro so l.. l-LONG-“ 
Polnareff’s sentence stops and his voice elevates to a high crack on the last
word as he feels a warm essence press into the crotch of his pants.  Kakyoin
furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head.      
               “Uh, nothing,” stutters Polnareff.  He continues his comment on
the Rubber Soul incident, but looks across the table out of the corner of his
eye.  He finds Abdul staring at him with a grin on his face, eyebrow quirked
toward his hairline.  The feeling presses into his cock again and squeezes, and
Polnareff has to grip the table.  He grits his teeth and tries to finish his
sentence, but fails.
                “Are you ok?” asks Kakyoin, genuine concern on his face. 
Polnareff tried to remember this face, because there was no way he would see
genuine concern in a sober Kakyoin, but was too distracted by the continuing
undulations on the growing mound of his cock.
                “I just need to – ah – use the bathroom,” he splutters
quickly.  He shifts around before he stands, keeping his problem hidden as he
leaves the car.
                The feeling stops when he gets to the enclosed space between
their car and another car, thankfully out of range of Magician’s Red from
here.  While he takes a heavy breather in the cool space, he hears the door
slide open and something warm presses against his back.
                “Ah, Abdul,” gasps Polnareff.  He feels Abdul’s cock press into
his ass and can’t help the moan that leaves his throat as Abdul grinds into
him.  He’s pressed between the wall and Abdul and his hips are pinned just so
he can’t get any friction.
                “Abdul, someone’s gonna come in.”  Polnareff can feel Abdul’s
mouth curl into a smile where he’s kissing his neck.
                “We’ll have to make it quick then, won’t we?” Abdul’s voice is
a low growl, and Polnareff’s cock twitches in response.  Abdul’s thigh nudges
Polnareff’s legs apart and finally Polnareff gets some of the contact he’s
looking for.  He tilts his own pelvis so his on the tilt he’s either rubbing
against the wall or Abdul’s leg.  It’s uncomfortable – there’s nothing more
that he wants than to get the cloth of his pants off of his cock – but he can’t
foresee Abdul letting him get enough room to shove his hand into his pants.
                “Ahn!” he cries, muffled by the wall.  Abdul’s hand slips past
his waistband and a finger is pressed against his entrance, but he doesn’t
press in.  Polnareff whines when he massages against it, trying to arch his
hips back, but Abdul has his hips firmly pinned in place.  The feeling of his
warm finger against his most intimate place while his whole body is draped
across his back is driving Polnareff up the wall, and he grinds into the wall
with a particularly low groan.
                “I’m gonna come,” Polnareff whimpers.  His stomach twists into
a knot when Abdul bites his neck.  Abdul’s breathing labored and he can feel
the harsh breath out of his nose onto his skin.  The gyrating of his hips gets
stuttered and less rhythmic, which only serves to send shocks through
Polnareff’s cock every time they happen to make contact.  He cries out as he
comes against the wall, feeling the front of his pants start to stick to his
skin.  Abdul bites down particularly hard and shoves his clothed cock up
against Polnareff’s ass, shaking as he squeezes his hand around Polnareff’s
bicep while his other hand shivers against his entrance.
                Polnareff is thankful that the wall is cold because his skin is
so hot.  He lays against the wall for a moment, regaining his composure, while
Abdul does the same behind him.
                “Hey Abdul, could you grab us another bottle of – “  Polnareff
and Abdul whip their heads around, faced with a red-faced, mouth agape, eyes-
wide Kakyoin.  His eyes flicker from where Abdul’s crotch is pressed to
Polnareff’s ass and back up to their faces.  He stands for a moment, then seems
to come back to reality, turning on his heel and stalking away.
Chapter End Notes
     sorry this was kind of rushed! i've been stuck in a little bit of a
     rut lately :(
     thank you for continuing to read! it fuels me to do more! i love you
     guys!
     also idk if joseph would use the word cronies but damnit he is.
***** 2. Kissing Naked *****
Chapter Summary
     Polnareff wonders vaguely how soft Abdul's lips are. And Abdul's
     gonna show him.
Chapter Notes
     finally! one that i'm proud of again!
     :)
     i wrote this while listening to very sexy music, and i wanted to try
     out 2nd person again because i kinda missed it.
              You used to think that the best thing in the universe was getting
wine drunk and taking a gorgeous girl back to your apartment, kissing and
licking in between her thighs until they closed around your head and her eyes
squeezed shut and she was calling your name.  Then there was the plowing into
her while she held on for dear life to your shoulders, and the come down
afterward while you stepped naked on the balcony to smoke a cigarette.  There
was nothing better than that, you used to think.
                Used to.
                Mohammed Abdul is currently seeing to it that you forget about
every single one of those nights.  He’s working diligently to replace soft
sighs with dark whispers, smooth curves with hard lines of muscle, and the
sweet taste of a woman with spices you’ve never tasted that make up his very
being.  His body is covering yours, and you’ve never had a body pin you to the
bed that could even rival the size of yours, and you can’t say that it isn’t
wonderful.  Abdul is kissing you breathless, and there isn’t anything you can
think about aside from his lips in the smoky haze that is your brain.
                “Jean,” he breathes into your mouth, and you feel your body
melt.  “Are my lips living up to their potential?”  He smiles against your lips
and you know that it’s rhetorical, and you couldn’t find the words to answer
even if you wanted to, but your answer is yes.
                You were drunk when you mentioned it, a slip of the tongue that
you couldn’t shove back into your mouth, and you’re glad that you didn’t.  As
Abdul had taken the glass of wine from your hands and put it to his lips, you
couldn’t tear your eyes away from where his full, beautiful lips wrapped around
the edge of the glass.  You wondered vaguely if they were as soft as they
looked, but something that had meant to stay in your mind whispered its way
out, and Abdul quirked an eyebrow.
                “Are my lips soft,” repeated Abdul.  Polnareff’s face filled
with red and then those lips he couldn’t stop thinking about are on him,
sliding against his own.  He took the wine glass gently from your hand and set
it, with his own, on the end table next to the bed, and brought you to this
point.
                His lips are softer than the skin of every single woman you’ve
been with, softer than your sister’s sweetest kisses to your cheek, softer than
the very clouds in the sky.  Of all the woman you’ve been with, his lips are
still more plump, more demanding.  Abdul scrapes his teeth along your bottom
lip, sucking it into his mouth and you’re seeing stars while he grinds his
crotch down and you can’t suppress the moan that vibrates out of your throat
and into him.
                Abdul’s kisses are rough and hard – teeth and tongue – but his
lips are still so soft and pliant, and you vaguely wonder how he can be these
two things at once.  How he can be so many things at once like he always is. 
He’s gentle and kind but holds a power in him to challenge Star Platinum – he’s
an enigma, a contradiction, and his lips are no different as they move down and
suck bruises into your neck.
                “Ah… can I?” he breathes against your skin, and you realize
with a start that his fingers are tugging at your waistband.  They’re just as
soft as his lips and they’re pressing against the stretched, sensitive skin of
your groin and you breathe something out that’s probably affirmation but you’re
not sure.  It must have worked, because he’s unbuttoning them and slowly
tugging them off.
                His lips are moving lower toward the fabric of your shirt, and
when they reach it, he reaches up and pushes the strap off of your shoulder,
then scrunches the top up into a thin strap that only covers the space just
below your nipples.  The cold air ghosts over them and you can feel that
they’re already perked, just as your cock is already standing at attention, and
you whimper.
                “Jean,” Abdul whispers again, and you can’t imagine a sight
more beautiful than your name ghosting past the softness of his lips.  However,
the night seems dedicated to proving you wrong, because the sight of his lips
wrapping around your nipple might be better.
                Your hands grip the back of his robes and you begin to work
them off of him, tugging and clawing.  He doesn’t stop flicking his tongue over
your sensitive nub as he shrugs off his robe and tosses it carelessly to the
floor.  His shirt comes next, but when he reaches down to kick off his pants he
has to stand.  You whine and it makes your face even hotter, and he chuckles.
                “You’re eager,” he teases, and then he’s over you on all fours
again.  He swipes his tongue wetly over the palm of his hand and wraps it
around your cock, hands warm and soft and stroking you.  You moan through a
clenched jaw and gritted teeth; it never reaches your ears because his mouth is
there to drink it as soon as it forms.
                Abdul’s lips are soft – so soft – and gently slide against
yours, his hand pumping you quickly and rough.  There it is again, the
contradiction that is Abdul: gentle, soft, and hard all at the same time.  Your
brain rapidly moves from your cock to your mouth, from the taste of his heat
licking into you that makes your chest tighten to the rough slide of his hand
that is tightening the ball in your stomach.
                “Mo... mo- ah!” you cry as the pressure in your gut snaps.  His
lips are still pressed against yours and his tongue doesn’t stop moving as you
feel yourself come all over his hand.  The hand on your cock is too much, so
you whine and he removes his entire body from you, pulling away his hand and
his lips.
                You miss the feel of his lips too much, so you fist your hands
in his hair and bring his head back down, feasting on his lips now that you can
finally control your body well enough to taste him.
                “Yes,” you breathe, holding his face centimeters from yours. 
He furrows his eyebrows.
                “Yes what?” he asks.  His hair is mussed and the scars on his
cheeks are pink, making your hunger for him stronger.
                “Your kisses are adequate,” is your answer to his question from
earlier, and you pull his mouth to yours, stealing more of those kisses.
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