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Stewy likes fun, sure. A lot of people have called him a hedonist, but, like, he’s twenty one, so what else is he supposed to be? What else is there to do, if he’s not fucked up or fucking someone or buying watches?
So, yeah, he likes fun. Kendall is kind of the polar opposite of fun, but Stewy likes fucking around with him anyway. Something about the way he stutters when he’s hot and bothered, the way his mouth hangs open when he’s high, the way he can come twice in ten minutes before Stewy even really gets started. While Kendall seems to abhor fun on principle, he doesn’t mind when Stewy gets weird and horny and proposes something new; handcuffs, GHB, the semester when he got really into period sex before Kendall’s hormones put a stop to it.
Stewy brings the fun to their situationship, and Kendall humours him, and that’s how it goes. The setup works for both of them, because Kendall gets all freaked out about asking for stuff, and Stewy has too many ideas to stay in his head.
So Stewy really isn’t expecting it when, the next time they’re making out on the couch, one hand on Kendall’s hip and one down his pants, Kendall pulls away and says,
“You, uh, you know about- about edging?”
Stewy laughs a little bit, sits up, pulls his hands back to himself. Kendall’s voice is as monotone as ever, but he has a blush high on his cheeks.
“Kendall, do you think I just time traveled here from Edwardian England?” Stewy says, raising an eyebrow, amusement playing round his eyes. “Yes, I know about edging.”
“They uh- probably had edging back then too,” Kendall points out.
“Aw, I think you’re getting distracted, handsome. What did you want to ask me about edging? Go on, share with the class,” Stewy gestures broadly at their empty college-kid living room, plastic baggies on the table, Radiohead melting from a record player in the corner.
Kendall scowls at him. He looks so funny when he does that, Stewy thinks, like he learned it from watching Logan, and just copy-pasted it, without any of the weight or impact.
“Fuck off, man. You don’t have to- you know, make it into a joke.”
“Hey, no, I didn’t mean that,” Stewy appeases. “You got something you want to tell me?”
“I just, uh, was wondering, if you would- do that. With me. If you wanted it.” Kendall’s blush gets worse, and he’s studiously looking anywhere other than at Stewy’s face.
Stewy feels himself smiling, a little entranced by Kendall under him, glowing like a stoplight.
“Ew, Ken, you’re such a little freak,” Stewy says in admiration. He doesn’t really mean in; he’s done weirder shit with worse people, but he knows that Kendall’s brand of daddy’s boy narcissism goes both ways. He wants to be the best and the worst, lauded and ground into the dirt simultaneously. Stewy is happy to oblige.
“Whatever,” Kendall says. “We don’t have to.”
But Stewy wants to, now. Fuck, he wants to. He’s starting to get hard already, just thinking of Kendall under him, on the edge. He nods.
“Yeah, we’re going to,” he says. “Come on. Bedroom.”
Kendall has the nerve to look surprised. “You want- you wanna do it now?”
“What, you need to pencil it in for three weeks time? Come on, man.”
“I have a paper due tomorrow, Stew,” Kendall says, and Stewy laughs.
“You have a paper due tomorrow,” Stewy mocks. “Do some speed later, you’re golden. I don’t care.”
Kendall smiles all crooked at him. “I don’t care either,” he says.
Stewy huffs in amusement as Kendall pushes himself off the couch, pulling up his pants even though he’ll be taking them off again in a matter of minutes. Stewy follows him to the bedroom and pushes them down onto the crumb-covered bed.
Kendall grins under him, stretching his arms above his head. Stewy takes his wrists and holds them, not to hurt, just to touch him. He rubs his thumb across Kendall’s palm.
“Take your pants off, Ken,” Stewy says. He knows he’s returning Kendall’s smile, all toothy and love-struck teenager. He likes Kendall a lot. He wants to make him cry.
“Let go of me then, man,” Kendall says, making no move to throw Stewy off him. He’s lying pliantly, expectantly, covered in Stewy’s weight. Pillow princess, Stewy thinks, and it makes him smile wider.
Kendall looks a little bereft when Stewy does get off him and starts rummaging through the bedside table.
“Chop chop, pants off, Kenny,” he reminds Kendall without looking around. Kendall’s pants rustle across the bedspread and land softly on the floor. Stewy hears a wet noise and looks back to see Kendall pulling two fingers out of his mouth and shoving them into his boxers, his eyes falling closed.
“God, you’re impatient,” Stewy says. Kendall cracks an eye open and just smirks.
“Hurry up then.”
Stewy gets the lube and the bullet vibe Kendall likes and rejoins him on the bed. He hunkers down between Kendall’s legs; he watches Kendall rocking against his hand, unhurried, keeping himself entertained rather than trying to get off. He glances lazily at Stewy.
Stewy clicks the vibe on once, twice, until it gets to his favourite pattern, and pushes it against Kendall’s boxers. Kendall’s breath hitches and he rocks his hips up, trying to get closer, and Stewy loves it; Kendall stays pretty quiet during sex, when he’s sober, but his small noises, just the changes in his breathing, is enough to make Stewy hot inside.
Stewy lets him rut up a few times before using his free hand to push Kendall’s hips back down. He turns the vibe off before Kendall can get too worked up, slides Kendall’s boxers slowly down his thighs, the muscles there tensing. He pauses there, his face close enough to take Kendall into his mouth, and he would, if it weren’t for the task at hand.
“You want my fingers?” He asks instead, rubbing circles into the wiry divots of Kendall’s hip.
“Uh- yeah. Just, uh, slowly,” Kendall says. Stewy kisses his thigh in response and feels it twitch against his lips.
He slicks up two fingers and teases them around Kendall’s hole, until Kendall mutters out come on, man, and Stewy pushes them inside, up to the first knuckle.
Kendall is always tight at first. He gets nervous and insecure and weird about penetration at all, says it’s painful and dry most of the time since the testosterone starting taking effect. When he wants it, it comes with a lot of lube and a lot of patience. Stewy can do slow, he can do careful. He can make it good.
He wriggles his fingers slightly where they’re inside Kendall, and Kendall makes a pleased hum.
Stewy leans in and takes Kendall’s dick into his mouth, just for a second, just to hear his gasp. Stewy looks up and sees the blush crawling up Kendall’s neck, peeking out of his jersey. Cute.
He grabs the vibrator and turns it on again, holding it against Kendall’s dick, still spit wet, and the shudder that goes through Kendall is electric. Stewy doesn’t let up this time, keeps the vibe pressed against him, and pushes his fingers in deeper; Kendall makes a needy little noise and grinds down against Stewy’s fingers. Abruptly, Stewy ups the speed of the vibe and Kendall smacks a hand over his mouth to keep in his groan.
“That good?” Stewy asks, and it’s basic porno shit, but Kendall just nods frantically. “Good,” Stewy says. “You’re good for me.”
He strokes his fingers inside Kendall, keeps the vibrator an unrelenting pressure against him, and it isn’t long before Kendall is making the little strangled gasps that mean he’s close to coming. Stewy almost forgets what they’re doing here, so taken in by Kendall’s red face, his bitten lips, his big sad-boy eyes- he almost lets it happen. He pulls away the vibe and stops the movements of his fingers at the same time, and Kendall sounds like he’s choking.
“You dick,” Kendall rasps out.
“You asked for it,” Stewy reminds him.
“This isn’t- fuck,” Kendall says, cutting himself off. “I want to come, dude.”
“I know you do, buddy,” Stewy says. “One more and you can, yeah?”
And before Kendall can argue, he puts the vibrator where his fingers were a minute ago, and puts his mouth on Kendall’s dick instead.
He loves blowing Kendall. He loves the dick that T has given him, the way it fits in his mouth, the way Kendall’s so responsive to it- his nose is pressed against Kendall’s pubic hair and he just holds Kendall on his tongue, teasing, before he gets to work proper. He licks around Kendall’s dick, allows just the graze of teeth, and Kendall bucks up into him before grinding back to the bed, like he can’t decide if he wants Stewy’s mouth or the vibrator more.
It doesn’t take long to work Kendall up again. Or, Stewy thinks it doesn’t take long, but he kind of loses track of time when he’s between Kendall’s legs, sue him.
Kendall has one hand on Stewy’s shoulder and he pushes him away.
“I’m- I’m close,” he says, and Stewy grins.
“Okay,” Stewy says. “You can come whenever, now, yeah? You’re good.”
Kendall nods and Stewy goes back in, licks around his fingers inside Kendall, pulls out every trick he knows- he curls his tongue the way Kendall likes, scratches his nails down Kendall’s thighs, and then Kendall is twitching on his tongue, coming with a punched-out noise. Stewy smiles against his dick, licks him through the aftershocks, until Kendall smacks him away.
“You good?” Stewy asks, wiping his fingers on the bedsheets and hoping Kendall doesn’t see.
Kendall turns to him with a lazy smile. “Yeah,” he says. “Though I’m not sure that really counted as edging. I think, uh- we might have to try again another time.”
Stewy scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”
Kendall glances down, sees where Stewy is half-hard in his boxers. “You want-?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Stewy says, and means it. “I’ll go jerk off in the shower. You write your paper, champ.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Kendall says, but he’s smiling.
Stewy leaves him, stretched out on the king bed, looking like he’s drifting off for a nap. He jerks off in the shower as promised, and comes out to see coke residue on the coffee table and Kendall typing furiously on the PC in the corner. Fucking Kendall, he thinks, and smiles, and hopes Kendall doesn’t see.