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"Jesus Christ ," Jake moans, grinding his hips up against Bradley. He's pinned to the pool table in the Hard Deck, Bradley's big hands framing him on the hardwood. Jake's got his fingers tied into Bradley's stupid curly hair, hips pressed hard against him.
Penny has reserved the entire bar for the Dagger squad, letting them have the space to celebrate a job well done, the fact that they're all alive. The rest of the crew is outside on the beach, Maverick having pulled them out for a game of ultimate frisbee while the sun was still up. The patio doors are open, and there's a breeze blowing through.
Bradley licks a stripe up the column of Jake's neck and Jake pants against his temple. They don't have an excuse for still being inside, but they're taking advantage of the fact that no one has come looking for them. Bradley hums against warm skin, dragging his teeth in the barest hint of a bite. Jake keens against him, tugging harshly on his hair. It's a back and forth like this, Bradley mouthing at Jake's throat and Jake pulling on the hair in his fists. Finally, Bradley breaks the cycle, drags himself up to eye level with Jake and presses his mouth against eager lips in a spit-slick searing kiss.
Jake presses up, up into Bradley's grip, rolling his hips and breathing harshly out his nose. The only sounds in the normally bustling bar are their mouths, their breaths intermingling. It's a heady feeling, being in such a place and doing this , this dance that's so familiar but still so invigorating. Bradley breaks the kiss with a pop, pulls back and looks at Jake with lust blown eyes.
"God, baby, you're so good," he breathes and Jake tips his head back, laughing like he's drunk on the feeling of Bradley pressed against him. The hardwood of the pool table is starting to dig into his lower back, and he wiggles his ass a little to keep it from going numb. Bradley, ever observant, plants his hands under Jake's thighs and lifts, settling him firmly on the edge of the table. The angle is different, and Jake grabs Bradley by the jaw, tilting his head up to meet him again in another hot kiss.
As they trade languid kisses back and forth, the frenzy from before fizzling down into the background for the moment, Bradley tracks his hand across Jake's hip, pausing over his denim-clad cock. He presses the heel of his hand in, just a little and Jake bucks against the feeling.
A cheer comes up from outside and Jake is made painfully aware of the fact that the door is open, that their friends are just a hundred yards away, blissfully unaware of what's playing out in their once sacred space. He freezes against Bradley, who just continues to work his mouth across Jake's cheekbone.
"Don't worry about them," he murmurs low when he gets to Jake's ear. Jake shivers against him at the feeling.
"Bradley, they're gonna see us," he whines, hips grinding up against Bradley against his will. Bradley just huffs out a laugh, something dark underlying it.
"So?"
Jake's hands scrabble against Bradley's back at that, more turned on than he'd like to admit at the idea of any of their friends walking in on them.
"Fuck. Fuck me," Jake pants and Bradley nods frantically against his neck, curls tickling his face.
"Yeah, sweetheart, that's the idea," he gasps. Jake's got his mouth on the soft spot under his jaw, worrying a mark in with his teeth. He laves his tongue over the spot, a cool relief to the sting left behind.
Jake slides off the pool table, crowding into Bradley's space. He presses one last kiss to his lips before turning, bracing his hands on the felt and pressing back into Bradley's hips. Bradley groans, hands coming up to bracket Jake's waist, grinding forward into the denim pulled tight across his ass.
"God, sweetheart, look at you, practically begging for it," he murmurs. He strokes his hand from Jake's nape down to just above the line of his jeans, tugging at the band lightly.
"Come on, stud, give it to me," Jake almost purrs, a smile stretched across his face. He glances back at Bradley and sees his gaze darken. He wiggles his hips and Bradley groans, fingers digging in harder. Jake huffs out a laugh, pressing back harder. Of course the cheap porno line does it for Bradley, he thinks.
From his perch on the table he can see out the window, see his friends running through the surf and laughing. They look like they're having fun. Jake thinks he's probably having more fun, the feeling of Bradley's cock pressed against the cleft of his ass.
Bradley tugs insistently at the band of Jake's jeans again, and Jake shimmies his hips in affirmation. They get pulled down to mid-thigh, and Jake squares his feet a little further apart. Bradley's fingers dig into his ass cheek, pulling to the side a little to expose the plug nestled between.
" Fuck, " Bradley growls, and Jake laughs again. He's been keeping this secret for hours now, just waiting for Bradley to find it. His laughter dies in his throat when Bradley lands a hard slap on the cheek he'd just been holding. Jake lets out a punched out little noise, shifting forward on his hands to accommodate the impact.
"Did you do this for me, princess?" Bradley asks, and Jake can feel the flush all the way down his chest. So they're gonna play it like this. Jake just nods, whining when Bradley lands a slap on the other cheek. His thumb dips between Jake's cleft, pressing on the plug. Jake jerks forward when it skims against his prostate, not enough pressure to do much, just a gentle zing spreading under his skin.
The felt of the pool table feels sticky under his hands, no doubt beer soaked and disgusting, but Jake doesn't care, because Bradley is pushing on the plug in increments, harder and further each time, lingering and grinding against that spot inside of him. One particularly good thrust of the plug and his hands drop out from under him. He lands hard on his forearms. Bradley's hand comes up to his neck and pushes him down, his hair tickling against his arms. Bradley ends his ministrations with the plug, pulling it out and tucking it in the back pocket of Jake's jeans. He can feel it digging into his thigh, a constant reminder of preparing himself for Bradley before they left base earlier.
Bradley gets his own jeans open, cockhead brushing against Jake's hole, still slick from the lube he'd used. Jake cants his hips up, arches his lower back in a way that he knows makes his ass look insane and drives Bradley wild. Distantly he hears Bradley spit into his hand, knowing he's slicking himself up just a little more to make the glide smoother. Despite having prepped, the plug is smaller than Bradley, and the first press in is a stretch, the head of Bradley's cock catching on Jake's rim. He groans through it, stock still and letting Bradley set the pace forward. Bradley takes his time until he's seated entirely inside of Jake. A hand strokes down Jake's side, loving in its firmness and Jake only has a second to catch his breath before Bradley pulls almost all the way out and slams back in.
Jake tries to bite back the sound, but it still comes out, a muffled moan directed at the pool table. The next thing he knows there's a hand in his hair, pulling his head up just a fraction.
"Come on, princess. Don't you want to put on a show?" Bradley asks, and Jake bites his lip, tries to shake his head against the hold on his hair. His efforts are futile.
"I wanna hear those pretty sounds, baby," Bradley says, quieter, more stern. Jake gasps and the hand in his hair is gone. Jake doesn't let his head drop again, knows better than to do that when Bradley is in this mood. Another hard thrust sends him forward on the table, felt burning against his arms.
"C'mon, baby. Let me hear you."
Jake moans brokenly, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the felt, cock trapped miserably against the side of the table. Outside he can hear Phoenix yelling a barb to Coyote. They sound dangerously close, but when his head snaps up he sees them in the distance still, sun hanging huge in the sky.
"Bradley-" Jake gasps, and the hand is back in his hair, tight.
"What was that, princess?" He says, coy and syrupy sweet. Jake rolls his eyes, grits his teeth and pushes his hips back to meet Bradley's next thrust. Bradley swears under his breath but his grip doesn't slack.
"Just say it, baby. Who's the only one who can fuck you this good?"
"You, Bradley," Jake says, and then he whines when Bradley's hips slow to a stop. He presses back but Bradley doesn't give an inch.
"Who am I, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning over Jake to murmur in his ear. Jake tries again to grind his hips back. Bradley doesn't budge. Jake huffs, hands curling into fists.
" Daddy , Jesus, fuck," he grits out and Bradley just laughs, resumes fucking him into the felt.
"Yeah, that's what I thought you said, baby girl."
Jake pushes back up on his hands, presses up and back into Bradley. The angle changes, and suddenly every thrust is nailing that bundle of nerves, lighting his skin up. He pants out a moan, little ‘uh, uh’ sounds every time Bradley drives back in. It seems to drive Bradley crazy, if the stutter in his hips is anything to go by. From this point Jake can see all of their friends outside, still tossing that damn frisbee around, completely oblivious. Bradley gets an arm around Jake’s waist, pulls him back far enough to get his hand around his cock, pumping him in tandem with the way he’s slamming into Jake.
“You gonna come for me, princess? Gonna come on daddy’s cock?” he murmurs low in Jake’s ear and Jake can’t even be embarrassed by the name calling anymore, just nods and moans. At this point, he’ll do whatever Bradley wants him to. It doesn’t take much more than that, just a few strokes and he’s coming apart in Bradley’s arms. Bradley has the foresight to cup his hand over Jake’s cock, not letting him make a mess of Penny’s already disgusting pool table.
Jake slumps against Bradley, caught between him and the hardwood of the table. Bradley slows his hips, giving Jake time to come down a little before he brings his hand up to Jake’s mouth. Jake doesn’t even think about it, licks his own come off Bradley’s hand.
“There you go, princess. Don’t want to get the table dirty,” Bradley murmurs. Jake just nods, spent. He pushes his hips back minutely, relishing the oversensitive zing that flies up his spine.
“What about you, Daddy , you gonna come, too?” he asks, tongue in cheek and Bradley huffs out a laugh, grips Jake’s hips a little tighter.
“Yeah, baby. Just tell me where.”
Jake thinks about it for a moment and wiggles his hips.
“You gonna clean me up if I let you come inside me, B?”
Bradley curses, his hips stuttering forward, and Jake feels him nod against his back. It’s all the invitation Bradley needs apparently, because his hips snap forward, chasing his release. The idea of what he’s about to do must spur him on, because it’s not long before his thrusts stall and wet warmth is blooming inside Jake. Bradley pants against the back of his neck, trying to catch his breath. Jake reaches a hand back, smoothes it down Bradley’s flank in a comforting gesture.
Bradley doesn’t take long, just a moment, before he eases out. He whistles low as he pulls Jake’s cheeks apart, watches his come start to leak out.
“You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” he says, before unceremoniously dropping to his knees, tongue darting out to lap up his spend that’s already making its way out of Jake. Jake gasps at the sensation, Bradley’s tongue soft and warm against his hole. His hand comes back to tangle in Bradley’s hair, pressing him forward. Bradley just takes it, laving at Jake’s rim, dipping inside to get every last bit. When he deems Jake cleaned up, he pulls back to admire his handiwork, thumb brushing against Jake’s rim reverently.
“There, princess. All clean,” he says, a smirk settled firmly on his face. He stands back up and grabs the plug out of Jake’s back pocket.
“You want this back?” he asks, holding it up, and Jake turns to snatch it out of his hand, shaking his head. He shimmies his jeans back up, and works on Bradley’s, tucking him in and buttoning his jeans. He tucks the plug into Bradley’s back pocket and gives it a tap.
“For later, stud,” he says, and leans in to give Bradley a sweet, lingering kiss.
“What have you two shitheads been doing in here?”
Jake freezes, realizes he is in fact decent, and pulls back to look at Phoenix.
“Cleaning up, Nix,” Bradley says smoothly. She makes a face at him like she doesn’t believe him.
“You owe Penny twenty bucks, don’t you?” she asks, folding her arms. Bradley just hangs his head. Jake throws his back and laughs.
“Is that the going rate?” he asks, and Phoenix tacks him with a glare.
“For fucking in her bar? Yeah, it is.”
Bradley just grumbles and pulls his wallet out.