Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/242208.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Chronicles_of_Narnia_RPF
  Relationship:
      Skandar_Keynes/William_Moseley
  Character:
      Skandar_Keynes, William_Moseley
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Underage_Sex, RPF, Pining, First_Time, First_Kiss,
      Blow_Jobs, Frottage, wrong_so_wrong
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-02-02 Words: 6115
****** in bed by eight ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     AU. Skandar doesn't need a babysitter.
Notes
     Originally posted to livejournal. Written for carleton97.
     baby, baby, (you're such a) baby, baby/and one thing i chose to
     admit/is that your daddy, daddy, daddy/shouldn't let me babysit
     -- Morningwood, "Babysitter"
"Mum, please, I am begging you, don't do this to me!"
"I'm sorry, Skandar, but you've brought it on yourself," she said, putting on
her earrings and meeting his eyes in the mirror. She said it as if it were no
big deal, as if it were just nothing at all, that his entire life as he knew it
was going to end in less than an hour. "If you don't wish to be treated as a
child, you'll have to earn it by displaying a bit more maturity next time."
"But, Mum, this is... I don't..." He waved his hands -- flailed, really, if you
wanted to be technical about it -- and tried very hard not to stomp his feet on
the floor. "I'm fifteen, I can't have a babysitter!"
"Oh, honestly." She rolled her eyes, making a scoffing sound as she turned and
walked over to the side of the bed to slip on her shoes. "You act as if it's
the end of the world, darling."
"But it is! It completely is! It's the end of my world, Mum. The end of my
entire life." He sat down hard on the bed and stared up at her, pleadingly.
"Mum, honestly, I'll do anything you want, just please don't go."
She laughed -- honestly laughed -- and reached over to run her fingers through
his hair affectionately before turning away and walking back over to the
dressing table. "Oh, Skandar, it'll be fine. It's only Will, after all. You've
always liked Will."
Exactly, he thought, pushing his face into his hands defeatedly. That is
exactly the problem.
He'd been seven when Will's family had moved into the house next door and it'd
been obsession from the moment he'd set eyes on him. He'd followed him around
constantly as a child, wanted to spend every single second with him, had done
everything that Will had done and tried everything that Will had tried. He'd
even attempted to dress like him at one utterly horrible to think about point.
It was completely embarrassing when he thought back on it now, but it wasn't as
if he'd known that he'd fancied Will or something. It wasn't as if he'd
understood. All he'd known was that being around Will made him happy, made his
stomach go all funny like he'd eaten too much sweets. It wasn't until he was
maybe eleven that he realised that he didn't want to be Will, he just wanted to
be with him.
It'd only gone downhill from there.
Awkward conversations where he laughed too hard at things that weren't nearly
funny enough and dropped things because it made his fingers go numb when Will
looked at him. Making a fool of himself trying to get Will's attention whenever
he'd seen him at school and nights spent lying awake imagining how it would be
when Will finally realised that he fancied him back. Writing out awful letters
that always ended up with and so I just wanted to say that I fancy the pants
off you and I hope you fancy me as well and then ripping said letters to shreds
and hating himself just a little more than before.
All the bloody staring.
Will'd never seemed to mind or to even notice, really, but all the same, it was
pathetic and Skandar knew it. He knew it but he couldn't do a thing to stop it
so he'd just... sort of accepted it, he supposed. He'd accepted that he was an
idiot about Will but that Will was too nice and too clever and too all around
wonderful for it to ever matter so, even though it was sad and yet more sad,
he'd never allow himself to give up.
It was all right, really. It was normal for him, at least, by now. Until last
month, when his whole stupid world had been turned on its head and everything
had got a load more desperate.
He'd been thrilled when Will had chosen to take a gap year after school but not
so thrilled when he'd also chosen to spend summer hols traipsing all over
bloody stupid Italy with some of his mates. It'd nearly killed Skandar to be
without him but he'd held it together as best he could by counting the days
until Will was meant to return. And when the day finally came, he'd been
elated, cloud nine and all that, and he'd spent the whole morning and half the
afternoon waiting at the living room window, but he had forgotten all about
rushing down the steps to say hello and try to convince Will to tell him every
single detail about every single moment he'd been away the second that Will'd
got out of the taxi.
Because Will had always been fit, of course, he was the fittest boy that
Skandar'd ever met, but in that moment Skandar had seen plain as day that his
travels had somehow left him even more beautiful than before.
He'd ducked out of the window that day, his heart pounding in his chest and his
head reeling from the sight, but there was no way to truly avoid the truth for
long. No way to avoid seeing in perfect detail how the sun and the sea had made
Will's hair go all light and wavy. No way to avoid seeing how his skin,
practically bronzed now, made his eyes seem even bluer by contrast. No way to
avoid noticing the new relaxed grace in the way Will moved or how he seemed to
always have a smile on his lips, like everything in the world was brilliant and
amazing and actually worth something and not just... boringly normal. No way to
avoid the crushing realisation that, even though the tan would fade, Will was
going to stay grown up and would never look at him as anything but "little
Skandar, the neighbour boy" no matter how much he wanted him to.
He tried to act as cool as he could possibly manage, though, just in the vain
hope that perhaps if he were incredibly lucky Will would see that he wasn't
just a silly child anymore, would see that he was mature and attractive and
nearly an adult himself. But this... This babysitting rubbish wasn't going to
help in the least and he just knew that now he was well and truly doomed. He
just knew that any chance he'd had for getting Will was utterly blown the
second his dad had asked Will to come and look after him like he couldn't take
care of himself.
It was hopeless now. Utterly hopeless. There was nothing he could do.
He slouched about as his parents finished getting ready to go out, dragging his
feet and frowning as hard as he could manage. He shrugged off his mum's hands
when she tried to hug him and rolled his eyes as his dad gave him another of
those disappointed looks and tried to ignore the hollow pain in his chest when
the knock at the front door signalled Will's arrival. He slumped down further
into his seat on the sofa as he listened to his parents say goodbye to Will and
then even further as the door finally shut and the sound of their car starting
up and pulling away made him wish he could throw himself down behind it.
"Well, it looks like it's just you and me, then," Will said, as he stepped into
the living room.
Even though he tried not to, Skandar couldn't help looking over at him. He was
wearing those light grey trousers that fit like they'd been made just for him
and a dark blue jumper with the sleeves pushed up to show off the still-tanned
skin of his forearms. He'd done something different with his hair as well -
- maybe got a new gel, Skandar thought.
Will shifted from one foot to the other under the scrutiny, raising his
eyebrows as his mouth twisted up at the side a bit like he wanted to laugh but
was trying not to, and Skandar felt his face go warm as he realised he'd been
staring again.
"Looks like," he mumbled, forcing himself to look away as he crossing his arms
over his chest and pushed his fingertips into his sides hard.
"Well, what would you like to do?" Will asked then, after clearing his throat a
bit.
"I'm not meant to do anything," he said, counting off his father's many
restrictions on his fingers. "No telly, no mobile, no Xbox, no internet, no
music, no magazines, no books unless they're for homework, nothing."
"Right," Will said, clearing his throat and reaching back to pull something out
of his back pocket. "What about cards?"
"Well," Skandar said, a rush of complete and total love for the familiar blue
and white design on the package making him sit up straighter and smile without
even thinking about it, "he didn't specifically say that cards were out."
"Always look for a loophole," Will said, smiling and tapping the side of his
nose. And then, completely shockingly, he reached out and tugged on the
shoulder of Skandar's tee shirt until Skandar pushed himself up off the sofa,
and then threw his arm round Skandar's shoulders, pulled him along into the
kitchen.
Skandar tried not to notice the smell of Will's cologne or the heat coming off
Will's body or how perfect it felt to be this close to him, it didn't actually
work, though, and he was forced to cover his shiver of excitement with a cough.
And if Will noticed the flush to his cheeks in the markedly brighter light of
the kitchen, he didn't say anything about it.
Will spent half an hour trying to explain poker to him only to realise that
they had nothing to bet just as Skandar was getting the hang of it. For a
moment, Skandar contemplated suggesting strip poker but then realised that it
would probably only end with him down to just his pants, freezing his arse off
and wishing for a swift death, before Will even got a sock off. They finally
decided to just play Fish as everyone knew how to play Fish and it didn't
actually require anything beyond a deck of cards and a massive amount of
boredom.
For dinner, Will baked a frozen pizza -- burnt it, really, but it was pizza and
even burnt pizza was still all right -- and poured them both great, fizzy
glasses of Pepsi with hardly any ice at all, exactly the way Skandar'd always
liked it. He'd opened his mouth to remind Will that he wasn't allowed to have
sugar after 7:30 but shut it just as quickly. It was bad enough having Will be
his babysitter, he didn't need to make matters worse by reminding him about
that as well. Especially when Will was being so cool and treating him like they
were just hanging out.
Like they were friends or something.
"All right, I've been dying all evening," Will said, leaning forward a bit as
Skandar finished off his third slice of pizza, "you've got to tell me what you
did. I've never seen your dad so angry before."
He'd secretly been hoping Will would ask him and it took all he had not to grin
like an idiot. It wasn't really that he was proud except that... Well, yes, it
was exactly that, actually.
"Well, it was nothing, really. I mean, I don't think it was. See, we got a new
headmaster at the beginning of term, right? Right, well, the man's absolutely
barking. I mean, clearly insane. And all that happened was that my shirt had
come out of my trousers and he saw it and instead of telling me to tuck it back
in like a normal person, he went completely mental in front of my entire year.
Shouting and going all red in the face and acting as if I'd kicked a baby in
the head or something. And he was going on about how he was going to have me
write something like a million lines, which is completely stupid because it's,
you know, a shirt. It's not as if everyone's shirt doesn't come out of their
trousers sometimes, you know?" He paused then, taking a noisy sip of his drink
and trying to look as casual and disinterested as possible, to really affect an
air of cool, before continuing. "So, I told him that he was mad and that there
was no way I was going to do any of his bloody stupid lines and he could just
suck me off for all I cared."
There was a moment where Will just looked at him, but then Will started to
laugh, and it took all he had to hold back on the urge to jump up and do some
sort of dance. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest
and smirking.
And then it didn't take very much at all.
"Do you even know what that means?" Will gasped out.
His gaped, uncrossing his arms. "What? Of course I know what it means!"
Will made a face like he didn't believe a word of it. "What's it mean, then?"
"What do you mean, what's it mean? It's... It's sucking off."
"Which is?" Will asked, looking him right in the eye.
"What, don't you know?" Skandar shot back, trying to get some of his own back
even as his stomach twisted with embarrassment and confusion.
"Yes, but you apparently don't."
"It's when someone, you know. When someone..." He trailed off, the words
feeling thick on his tongue and his face flushing. "When they use their mouth
on you."
Will snorted.
"Oh, shut up!" He pushed his chair back hard as he stood up and stomped out of
the room.
"Ah, Skandar, come on! Don't be cross with me!" Will called from behind him,
his voice suddenly serious.
"Just fuck off and leave me alone!" Skandar shouted back, his bare feet
pounding loudly on the stairs and his chest tight with humiliation.
When they use their mouth on you? God, he was so stupid!
He slammed his bedroom down and flopped down onto his bed, rubbing his face
into the pillows and twisting his fingers in the duvet, wishing he could go
back in time. To think up a cooler response for Will or keep his mouth shut
instead of smarting off to the Headmaster. Or maybe go all the way back to
birth so he could just do everything over again.
He rolled over onto his side and pulled a pillow to his chest, squeezing it to
himself. Somehow he doubted even doing his life all over again would make him
any less of an idiot when it came to Will.
The faint sounds of Will doing the washing up filtered up from downstairs for a
while and then nothing. And he half-hoped that Will'd just left even though he
knew that Will'd never walk out when Skandar's parents were expecting him to
stick around until they got home. Though, he supposed, as long as Will just let
him wallow properly and didn't try to come up and make it all better or
something, he could handle it.
But Will, of course, Skandar knew, had never been the sort to just leave it if
someone was upset with him. So when the creak of his bedroom door opening came,
Skandar wasn't even close to being surprised.
"Look, I... I'm sorry if I upset you," Will said, his voice careful but still a
bit relieved. Like he'd expected Skandar to be crying or something. There was a
soft tapping sound that he assumed was Will's fingers against his bedside
table, and then, "Are you going to sulk for the rest of the night or could we
finish that game of Fish?"
His stomach twisted and he scowled, squeezing his pillow hard to resist turning
over to look at him. "Just go away, all right? I don't want to play bloody
stupid Fish."
There was the sound of Will exhaling heavily and then the dip of the mattress
as Will sat down behind him. "Christ, Skandar, when did you become so
sensitive?"
"I'm not sensitive," he said, frowning like the word left a bad taste in his
mouth and edging away slightly. "I'm fine, all right? Completely fine. I'm just
knackered from my exciting day of being nearly thrown out of school and getting
shouted at for hours to play such a truly thrilling card game."
For a moment, he was sure that that'd done it and that Will was going to leave,
but then Will sighed and shifted closer.
"I think I've spoiled everything," Will said, putting a hand on Skandar's hip.
His fingers squeezed, thumb rubbing hard, and Skandar bit his lip, wanting pull
away and move closer all at the same time but completely unable to do anything
but lie there, frozen to the spot. Pinned like a butterfly in one of those
awful, morbid collections. "Would you let me make it up to you?"
"There's nothing to make up," he managed, trying to keep his voice from
wavering even as his whole body tingled.
"Really?" Will's hand slid over his hip. "Wouldn't you let me try?"
"What--" He started and stopped when his voice pitched up ridiculously as
Will's hand fitted itself right against his stomach. "What are you doing?"
"Making it up to you." Will shifted around until he was lying behind him, until
they were pressed chest to back, his breath puffing out hot against Skandar's
ear when he murmured. "I know you want it. I know you fancy me."
His heart stopped. Almost literally stopped. He was breathing out I don't...
before he could even stop himself. He didn't know what the rest of the sentence
was supposed to be. Perhaps I don't know what you're talking about or I don't
fancy you or I don't know how I could have ever thought that you wouldn't find
out, I want you so much it feels like it's pouring off me in waves. Something.
"It's all right," Will said, lips moving against his ear, mouthing at his
earlobe. Skandar gasped quietly at the contact, his eyes fluttering shut. His
heart suddenly beating triple-time in his chest, disbelief and the swirling
rush of heat to his stomach making it impossible to even think. Will's
fingertips slid along the tiny strip of bare skin where his shirt had pulled up
when he flopped down on the bed. They slid along and over until they were
twisting and lifting the thin cotton and slipping underneath. "It's all right,
I like it."
"You do?" His breath hitched in his throat as Will's hand rubbed over stomach,
up and down, up and down.
"I think it's sweet," Will said, dipping his head to press his lips to the side
of Skandar's neck as his hand slipped down to palm at the front of his jeans,
making him moan softly, shuddering and squeezing reflexively at his pillow.
He'd been hard since practically the second Will'd touched him, like a rush of
pure lust shooting through him. "I think you're sweet, Skandar."
"I'm not," he said, his voice gone breathy and distant to his own ears. He'd
thought about this so many times but he'd never really believed it would
happen. Will shifted against him, behind him, and he could feel Will's cock
against his arse. He was hard as well, hard and pressing insistently even
through the fabric of their clothes. "Will..."
Will made a low sound against his skin and rolled his hips forward, rubbing up
against his arse and squeezing at Skandar's cock in time. He shuddered hard,
his hips jerking involuntarily and his arms going loose and then tight on the
pillow like he wanted to let go but his brain wasn't sending the proper
signals. His toes curled, crossing and twisting, and he clenched his thighs
together, he felt like he couldn't breathe but, at the same time, he knew he
was. Because he could hear himself, hard and harsh and loud, completely
unmissable.
Will's mouth opened against the side of his neck, tongue hot and wet and
slipping against his skin for just a second before Will was ducking his head
and sucking. He moaned flat out, his eyes rolling back in his head and his
voice cracking just a bit right in the middle. He bit down on his bottom lip,
trying to stifle himself as Will's mouth worked over his neck, teeth and lips
and tongue, sucking and licking and biting, all the while his hips rocked
forward and his hand rubbed and rubbed at Skandar's cock.
He tried to keep up, he tried to move his hips like Will did, but like with his
arms on the pillow, he couldn't seem to get them to work properly, to do what
he wanted them to do, and he could only manage twisting them jerkily back and
forth, back against Will's hips and then forward against Will's hand. It was so
good, though. It felt so good.
When Will pulled back, he nearly cried.
No, he thought, his chest tightening. No, please don't let it be over already.
Please don't have changed your mind.
"What? What's wrong?" He asked, panting harshly. He imagined any number of
responses -- I'm sorry, but we shouldn't do this and you're much too young and
I think I should go -- but none of them were close to what he got.
"Nothing's wrong," Will said, laughing sort of breathlessly and pulling at the
pillow he still had clutched in his arms until he let go. "I just want to kiss
you, that's all."
"Oh." His stomach twisted just at the thought and he let himself be nudged over
onto his back, licking at his mouth and swallowing nervously, blinking hard.
"Oh," Will said, smirking at him. His face was flushed and his hair was a bit
mussed but Skandar couldn't think of a time that he'd been more attractive. He
felt stupid suddenly, just staring at him, and he wanted to look away, but
couldn't. Because Will was looking right at him and Will's hand had come up to
the side of his neck, his thumb brushing the underside of Skandar's chin, and
Will was going to kiss him.
He closed his eyes at the first brush of mouth, breathing out softly and
parting his lips, but Will didn't push further, Will didn't do anything but
pull back just enough to do it again, that same feather-light hint of a kiss.
Soft press and light touch and he couldn't stand it. He arched up unconsciously
as Will pulled back another time, like he was trying to chase Will's mouth with
his own, a quiet whimpering sound in the back of his throat, and when their
mouths bumped together, he could feel Will grin just before returning the kiss,
properly this time, firm and solid and real.
Will's lips parted, his tongue touching against Skandar's bottom lip, his
teeth, his tongue, and into his mouth. He groaned, shifting against the
mattress, twisting to get closer. Their tongues slipped together, wet and hot
and amazing, as his hands found their way to Will's shoulders, the sides of his
neck, into his hair. Will's hand slipped up to the side of his face, cupping
it, holding his head still, as he pulled back just enough to nip at his bottom
lip.
"I've never snogged anyone with braces on their teeth before," Will said,
panting against his mouth.
He made a face and pressed his lips together for a moment. He was so used to
them by now that didn't even think about it most of the time. "They're awful."
"Not really," Will said, mumbling against his lips as he leaned back in,
kissing him again.
His heart thumped in his chest, urging him on as he tried to catalogue every
single inch of Will's mouth, tried to memorise every sensation in case this was
all just some wonderful dream or it never happened again. He wanted more,
though, he wanted more than just kissing. He wasn't really sure what he wanted
but he thought that having Will on top of him was a good enough place to start.
Pulling and tugging and nudging until Will got the drift and shifted over, his
knee slipping between Skandar's own as he pressed down on him, heavy and hot
and everywhere. And when Will rubbed down against him, their cocks rubbing
practically right on each other through their trousers, he couldn't help the
shudder that went through him.
God, it was even better that way than before.
He moaned, his thighs clenching tight around Will's automatically as his
fingers flexed in Will's hair, pulling probably harder than he should have.
Will made a low sound and rocked his hips down, then did it again, and again,
until Skandar couldn't do anything but rub himself up against him, his thighs
squeezing rhythmically, kissing and clutching at him. His hands slipped from
Will's hair to the back of his neck, down over his shoulders and over his back,
his shoulder blades, like he was trying to touch Will everywhere, to feel every
single inch of him.
He was sweating and so hard, his heart beating so fast he could feel the blood
pulsing under his skin. Will's mouth slipped off his, dragging over his cheek,
smearing spit wet and he didn't even care. He couldn't even care.
"I want to suck you off," Will said, his voice low and rough like no time
Skandar could ever remember hearing it, and the words shot through him like a
bolt of lightning.
"Oh, god." His hips jerked frantically, his voice loud like a moan and a
whimper all at once, nodding and nodding his head. "Yes."
"You've got to ask me," Will said, hot against his ear, insistent. "If you want
it, you've got to say it."
His voice trembled, cracking, the words shaking as they tumbled out of his
mouth. "Oh, god, Will, please, suck me off, suck my cock."
Will groaned against his ear, shuddering. "Yeah, just like that. Just like
that."
He squeezed his eyes shut and the blinked up at the ceiling, biting his lip, as
Will slid down his body, pressing hard kisses to his neck, his chest, as his
fingers worked at the button and zipper of his jeans. He could hear himself
breathing, loud and too quick through his nose, and the little whine sounds in
the back of his throat, as Will spread his jeans open. He tried not to but
couldn't manage to keep from lifting his head just enough to look down, down at
the top of Will's head and Will's hands pressing his hips down to the bed, down
at front of pants, wet with precome, as his cock pushed up against the fabric,
obvious and obscene. He whimpered and let his head fall back, rubbing it back
against the mattress as he wiggled his hips, pushing up against Will's hands.
Will moaned, his mouth pressed against Skandar's stomach, sucking and biting,
as his fingers curled under the edge of Skandar's pants, pulling them up over
his cock and tugging them down, down, down. He lifted his hips, gasping deep
and shaky, as Will sat back and pulled his jeans and pants down passed his
thighs, his knees, his feet, before chucking them both over in the direction of
his dresser, leaving him naked from the waist down.
He stared at the ceiling until he couldn't anymore, until Will's hand pushed
over his hip, fingers curling around his cock, until Will's breath gusted warm
and damp over the tip. He stared at the ceiling until Will's mouth slipped down
over his cock, sucking as his tongue slipped around, down, pushing and rubbing.
His eyes rolled back, squeezed shut, and he moaned brokenly, almost like a sob,
as his body jerked and his hands scrambled against the bed for something to
hold onto, something to keep him from just flying apart.
The wet sucking sounds from Will's mouth seemed to echo in his head, like they
were burning out his brain and then bouncing around all the new, empty spaces
they'd made. He was making these helpless little noises in the back of his
throat and he tried to cover his mouth but it didn't do any good, he could
still hear them. His breath huffed out against his fingertips, harsh and damp
and erratic. His face felt hot and cold at the same time, numb and almost like
it wasn't actually part of him, like the only part of him that even mattered
was the part in Will's mouth.
Will's free hand slid up and down the inside of his thigh and then up between
his legs to rub at his balls, working them with his fingers, before slipping
back to rub hard at that spot just behind that he always liked to touch when he
wanked. His legs spread further automatically, his heels dragging across the
duvet and his knees twitching, his hips giving little jerks with every rub of
Will's fingers. His stomach lurched like he was falling, like he was falling
out of his own body and all the way through the earth and maybe he would just
keep going until he fell out the other side. He could feel his orgasm pulling
and pushing at him, so close, just a minute maybe. He could feel himself
tensing, hear his breath hitching, and in the back of his mind, all he could
think was yes, yes, yes, yes.
His shoulders shook, his whole body jerking uncontrollably as he came, moaning
and gasping and half-crying against his palm, because it felt so good, amazing,
like nothing had ever felt before. And he wondered if it would always feel like
that or if something that a person only got once. He hoped not but, at the same
time, he couldn't really care.
He felt Will shift between his legs and he forced himself to open his eyes. He
slipped his hand from off his mouth and licked at his lips, blinking and
wanting to say something but unable to actually form words as he watched Will
rub the back of his hand over his mouth before doing that thing he did, that
head twitch thing, to shift his fringe out of his eyes and crawl back over top
of him.
"Now when you say it, you'll know what it means," Will said, mumbling against
his mouth as he leaned in to kiss him, hard and a bit frantic. The feel of
Will's tongue sliding against his and the lingering taste of his own come
making Skandar moan again.
He shifted up and lifted his arms as Will reached down and tugged his shirt
over his head, tossing it away and leaving him completely naked. He felt lost,
disconnected from his own body by disbelief of the fact that his cock had just
been in Will's mouth. That Will had sucked him off. For really real and not
just in one of his desperately sad little fantasies. His limbs felt limp and
heavy as he sat there, tingling a bit like when they fall asleep, and he was a
bit embarrassed to be naked when Will was still completely dressed -- still had
his shoes on, even. But not so embarrassed when Will tilted his chin up to kiss
him again, lick at his teeth, his awful stupid braces, and suck on his tongue.
He reached his arms up to wrap around Will's neck as nudged him to lie back,
intent on tugging Will down with him, but Will shrugged them off and pulled
away.
"No," Will said, panting hard and licking at his mouth, his eyes gone all dark
and intense as he looked right into Skandar's. "Just lie back for me."
Skandar bit his lip, confused, but nodded and did as he was asked. He felt
awkward lying there totally naked, his cock spent, and then even more awkward
when Will straddled his thighs. He stared up at him, eyebrows furrowing hard as
he watched Will spit into his own palm and then reach down to rub it all wet
and gross between his thighs.
"What--" He started to say but cut it off when Will leaned down over him, one
elbow to the bed as his other hand reached down to undo his trousers. He
couldn't hold back the choked little sound as he felt Will's cock, hot and
hard, push down between his thighs. "Oh."
Will's breath stuttered out of him as he moved, slow at first and then faster,
his fingers gripping Skandar's hip and his eyes squeezing shut tight. The
feeling of it, of Will all over him and Will's cock sliding between his legs,
was enough to make his breath catch, but watching him made it feel like he'd
never be able to breathe again. Because Will looked like that because of him,
Will sounded like that because of him, Will felt like that because of him.
He reached up, hands shaking as he wrapped his arms around Will's neck and
pulled him down until Will was right on top of him, chest to chest. He pressed
hot, open-mouthed kisses along Will's jaw, shifting his hips up and squeezing
his thighs tighter until Will moaned, his shoulders jerking and his hips
twitching. Skandar held him there, his hands going like fists and his knuckles
pushing into Will's skin through his jumper. He tilted his head to the side and
closed his eyes, gasping and shuddering as Will buried his face in the crook of
his neck, mouth moving frantically over his skin.
"Come on, come on," he mumbled, his voice breathless and jolted, moving in time
with Will, desperate to hear him come, to feel it.
Will groaned loud against his neck, his hips snapping quick, quicker, and his
fingertips squeezing so hard Skandar hoped they'd leave bruises. Bump and
thrust and push, on and on, twisting hips and shaking breath, until it was like
the entire world had been boiled down to just the slick slide of cock between
his thighs and Will's body holding him down. And when Will came, wet and warm
between Skandar's thighs, his shoulders hunching and shaking, he made this
sound, raw and naked and completely stripped open, and Skandar didn't think
he'd ever heard anything so lovely in his whole life.
He rubbed his hands over Will's shoulders and down his back when Will collapsed
against him, his sides heaving and his heart beating so hard that Skandar could
feel it through his chest. An odd sort of feeling like joy and astonishment
rolled together making him feel giddy and stupid and wanting to just pull
Will's head up and kiss him a thousand times. He held back, though, because he
didn't want to seem like a girl or something. And when Will finally pushed
himself up, shifting off him, he bit his lip and forced himself not to just
leap up and grab him again.
He watched as Will reached down to the floor for something to wipe himself off
with and pulled up a shirt -- The shirt. The shirt he'd worn to school that
day. The glorious, wonderful, amazing shirt that he would love for the rest of
his life even if it was too short and always managed to come loose from his
trousers. He swallowed hard when Will pushed his legs apart, an odd little
twitch in his stomach as the backs of Will's fingers rubbed against his skin as
Will cleaned up the mess from between his thighs before doing himself as well
and then balling the shirt up and chucking it over at the hamper.
Will fell down beside him, zipping his trousers up and sighing heavily as he
looked over at him. "You know, I'd expected this to be more difficult, but it
was rather easy."
Skandar shifted against the bed, turning slightly and stamping down on the urge
to cover himself because, really, why bother? He couldn't stop his mouth from
twitching up at the corners, though, or the way his fingers itched to touch
Will again. Like to reassure himself or convince himself or maybe just touch
him to touch him because he could. "You mean the babysitting bit or the bit
where you completely took advantage of my youth and inexperience?"
Will raised an eyebrow and just looked at him. "Both, obviously."
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