Work Text:
Grabbing Washington's thighs, Terrence hoists him up and slams him against the wall. Littering his neck with nips and kisses, the larger man growls possessively against his skin. "Do you do this on purpose? Do you know how hard it is, how bothered I get by watching you flirt with other people? You belong to me, David Washington. No one else."
The tone, the pure possessiveness of his lover's actions, the use of his first name: any one of these things alone would usually have Washington trembling with desire. But today is different. Today he’s angry, this mornings argument still lingering in the back of his mind and influencing the entirety of his actions this evening. So instead of turning pliant under the strong, calloused hands he loves that are currently sliding up his thighs, instead of sighing contently into the mouth thoroughly ravishing his, he fights back. Scrabbling for purchase, he digs his fingers hard into Terrence's back, nails leaving furrows in the ink covered skin there. Wrapping his legs tight around his lover’s waist, he presses his heels into the tight muscles of the other man's buttox, while at the same time biting down hard on his lip. Terrence pulls away with a curse, one hand leaving Wash's thigh to press against his lip, checking for blood. His fingers come back red and the blonde struggles to keep the vindictive smile from his face.
"You little shit! You're trying to make me mad, aren't you?" The snarl pulls at scarring on the larger man's face, adding a level of menace to the action. Wash shivers in anticipation; this won't be gentle and slow like their nights together often are. No, he has a feeling that this is going to be rough and maybe a tad emotional. He allows himself a small smirk of satisfaction. After all, he's always had a thing for the rough and tumble type of sex. That thought is punctuated by the second hand abandoning its place on his thigh, leaving him with only the support of his own legs and the wall behind him. His lover leans back, hands tearing open the fly of his jeans, sending the button sailing across the bathroom. Voices outside the door briefly catch his attention but he only has a moment to wonder whether the door has been locked before Terrence is pushing down his jeans. A string of curses fall from his lover’s mouth when the man realizes that he’s going to have to put Wash down to get any further. “God fucking dammit. I hate your pants and they’re in my fucking way. Clothing is pointless; you should be naked and in my bed all day instead of dressing up in these ridiculously tight skinny jeans that are fucking impossible to get off. After all, your ass is mine so what’s the point of showing it off?”
Wash chuckles, leaning forward to nip at the other man’s chin before unhooking his legs and sliding down the wall so his feet are back on the floor. A mocking note attaches itself to his words as he shimmies the jeans down his legs, revealing the gift he’d been planning on giving the other man earlier, before a huge argument killed any chance of morning sex. "What's the matter, Terrence? Admitting defeat to a pair of skinny jeans? If my ass truly belonged to you, you'd be able to take it, tight pants be damned."
"Careful, lover. If you’d like to be able to walk tomorrow I’d watch that mouth of yours.” The threat is grunted into his ear as his lover easily lifts him again, this time carrying him to the sink and depositing him carefully on the counter. His shirt is tugged off roughly and then the larger man is slipping between his legs and biting a mark into his neck. Letting out a hopelessly loud moan, Wash fumbles with the other man’s belt. After a few unsuccessful minutes of battling with the dratted thing, Terrence bats his hands away with a frustrated growl, making short work of his belt and pants. Another moan rips through the blonde’s throat when he catches sight of the outline of the impressively hard cock his partner is sporting at the moment. Hands trail down his sides to hook into the silk fabric of his panties. “Nice touch. Red looks good on you and the lace is sexy. It’s a shame really.”
“I thought you’d like them.” The smugness of his statement quickly fades, drowned out by the sound of tearing lace and silk. However, before he can find the words to complain, one of Terrence’s capable hand finds his prick, collecting the beads of pre-come and smoothing it down his shaft with a slow, steady pump. Groaning, Wash lets his head fall back against the mirror with a thud as his lover positions him for easier access, hooking one leg over a broad, tattooed shoulder and pulling him to the edge of counter. Reaching over the sink, he dispenses two squirts of hand lotion from the bottle beside the sink into his hand, offering it out to Terrence as the man’s finger starts to circle his hole. Scooping up the cream, the larger man coats those long, thick fingers before using the leftovers to slick up Wash’s entrance. A finger lingers around his opening, teasing him slowly. Whining at the gentle treatment, he eggs the other on with a few choice words. “I thought you were going to show me who I belong to. Hell, I thought you were going to prove to everyone that I am yours. I don’t feel like I’m being claimed by you. What’s wrong? Afraid you won’t measure up, Terrence? It’s OK, I’m sure everyone knows you’re perfectly adequate.”
“What did I tell you about watching what you say?” Terrence pulls his hand away from Wash’s cock, wrapping it around his throat carefully instead and squeezing gently. At the same time a well coated finger plunges deep into him. He moans, pushing down as that finger retracts, unable to stop himself from chasing it. The hand on his throat squeezes again as the other man growls a warning in his ear. “Don’t move either. I’m in charge here. You’re mine, and it’s about time you learn that, Washington.”
The gentleness is tossed aside in favour of haste as Wash is quickly and roughly stretched wide, his lover barely allowing him time to adjust to the first finger before adding a second and third in quick succession. His fingers search the tile of the counter top for a hold as Terrence twists and scissors his fingers a few times before pulling them out with a wet squelch that has them both shuddering with anticipation. His leg drops from Terrence's shoulder as Wash watches through lust filled eyes while the other man pumps a few squirts of lotion onto his palm before stroking his cock, liberally coating it with the makeshift lubrication. The blonde lets out an exasperated huff when the excess cream is wiped off on his thigh. The hand on his throat squeezes again, cutting off his breath for a moment and drawing a moan from him before releasing him entirely to trail down his chest, tweaking a nipple before settling on his hip. The other hand follows suit, traveling up his thigh to grip the other hip before his lover tugs him forward, pulling him down so that he can line him up on his cock. Wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck, he moans when a hand leaves his hip to feed the head of his lover’s shaft passed that tight ring of muscles. Once Terrence is certain that it’s in far enough in, his hand returns to Wash’s hip, yanking him off the counter and filling him up in one hard, swift thrust.
“Ahh shit. Oh god.” The hiss leaves his mouth unintentionally at the burn and he receives another sharp thrust in return, one arm sliding around his back and the other under his ass to support him. He grunts in surprise when his lover lifts him almost completely off his cock before wrenching him down at the same time he slams up into Wash’s tight heat. Clinging tighter, the blonde opens his mouth again, letting out another challenge between his moans. “Oh god yes - mm Terrence, I can almost - fuck - believe that you own me. Ahhh - Almost. But - mm - how can I 100% percent believe you when you - unhh - don’t keep your promises. As far as I can tell, this isn’t going to make it - ah - difficult for me to walk tomorrow.”
“Is that so? I’ll have to change that then.” The other man growls into his ear, a low rumble that draws another moan from Wash’s throat. He sees stars after a particularly brutal, well aimed thrust presses hard against his prostate. Taking advantage of his daze, his lover carries him across the room to the bathtub, bouncing him slightly and continuing to stimulate the bundle of nerves that has him moaning like the star of a bad porno. Hooking his legs around his lover’s waist, he clings tight as Terrence stumbles over the edge of the bathtub before his hands come free and catch the two of them on the tiled wall so they go down completely. He winces when his back connects hard with the wall knowing he’ll probably have a bruise or two from this night. The position gives them better leverage and the man fucking him pounds into his hole at a brutal pace, grunting into his ear. “I own you; so much so, in fact, that I get to decide when you come. When you’re ready to admit you’re my property, let me know and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish.”
Wash whimpers when a hand leaves the wall to find his member, stroking it firmly in the exact way he likes it. The bathroom rings with his moans as that hand milks him while he’s getting fucked open, prostate being mercilessly abused by the head of his lover’s cock on each thrust. At some point he catches himself begging, babbling useless praises and promises into Terrence’s neck. The hand stroking his dick grips the base of it, stopping his release just before it happens. “That's right, beg for it David. Let me know how badly you want this. I want to hear you say it. Tell me who did this to you, who made you feel like this. Who owns you, Washington? Who do you belong to?”
“Oh god, Terrence. I need. Please. Ah fuck - It’s - ah mmm - It’s you.” He’s so wound up, panting against his lover’s neck, that he struggles to get the words he knows the man wants to hear out. Another sharp thrust has him keening before biting in the fleshy area of Terrence’s shoulder. “OK - mmm - OK, you win. I - Jesus Christ, holy fuck - I belong to you . Now please just let me come.”
“As you wish.” The man chuckles with satisfaction, releasing his hold on the base of Wash’s prick as he continues to fuck him hard. “Can’t leave my pet wanting, after all.”
“You - mmm - asshole.” Wash manages to get out before the hand starts stroking him again. All it takes is a few pumps coupled with a couple snaps of his lover’s hips before he’s overcome by his orgasm. It’s so intense that his vision whites out and he slumps against the wall, completely boneless as Terrence chases his own completion, following Wash into the void only a moment later with the blonde man’s name falling from his lips like a curse and a prayer.
They rest for a moment, Wash propped up against the wall with his lover’s face tucked into his neck, still buried balls deep in his ass. Once Terrence catches his breath and regains control of his legs, he lifts the smaller man off his softening cock, setting him down carefully and catching him when his legs refuse to work. Wash smiles when the man places a loving kiss to his lips before propping against the wall to pull the shower curtain closed. A moment later the water turns on, heating up for a moment before the shower head engages, dosing him in a spray of hot water. Strong arms wrap around him, guiding him back to rest against a tattooed chest. Relaxing into the steaming stream, he lets out a content sigh. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Wash.” Terrence’s reply is murmured against his neck and together they stand under the shower, basking in each other’s presence for a while. Wash drifts in and out of consciousness, letting the soothing steam ease away all the tension he had earlier. He’s sure he could stay like that for hours, and his lover would probably agree if not for the knocking on the door and the shouts that are increasing in volume and frequency. Finally a voice breaks through, reaching their ears over the sound of the running water.
“ Sharkface stop fucking your boytoy and get your ass out here now! Other people need the bathroom too, you know?” Girlie’s demand floats through the water, making it impossible to ignore. But that isn’t what makes Wash move from the shower. No, instead it’s the voice of one of his best friends that gets that pleasure.
“Wash, you’ve had your fun. Now get out here so I can pee. Good lord, how long does it take you to get off?” At least Connie sounds amused.