Work Text:
Johnny stood in front of the mirror of his and Simon’s shared flat, posing this way and that as he flexed his muscles. He was meant to be in the shower by now, getting ready to meet Price and Gaz at a local pub later, but he was taking his time this morning, feeling good about himself in a way he hadn’t always. He had worked hard to achieve the physical form he used to dream of having, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he loved his body. After so many years of being uncomfortable in his own skin as a teenager, he gave himself permission now to indulge in a little peacocking.
“Admiring yourself, Johnny?”
Simon appeared behind Johnny, looming a head above him. Johnny wasn’t a small man, stocky from his muscles and genetics, but Simon was an absolute unit and Johnny relaxed into his body heat.
“You know it.”
Simon leans down and kissed the side of Johnny’s neck, right below his ear where he was sensitive.
“Cockiness suits you.”
Johnny smirked at Simon’s reflection.
“Good thing I have plenty of it.”
Simon scans Johnny’s form, eyes trailing over the expanse of firm chest dusted with hair, down to Johnny’s briefs, the only article of clothing he had on. Johnny had placed a packer into it when he went to bed last night, and Johnny knew when Simon’s eyes focused on it.
Simon’s large hand made its way around Johnny, squeezing and rubbing over the bulge. Johnny can’t feel it. That goes without saying. Simon knows it. Johnny knows Simon knows it. It’s just a piece of silicone that’s not attached to his body in any way. It’s not even touching his body. The briefs he wears allows him to keep his packer tucked away, held in place but not rubbing friction against his skin. There’s absolutely no logical reason for Johnny to be getting pleasure out of the way that Simon’s rubbing him, but as he leans against Simon’s chest, he can almost feel Simon’s touch as if his dick really was attached to his body. He can almost feel the heat of Simon’s hand. It’s fucking hot seeing Simon caress him like this. Tingles prickle though his body as they both watch him get pawed at in the mirror. His brain understands that there’s no sensation, but his eyes try to tell him otherwise.
He sees the touch and he really does almost convince himself that he’s feeling the touch. Especially when Simon turns him, sinking to his knees in front of Johnny with the grunt of a middle-aged man who is not gentle with his own body. Johnny runs his fingers through Simon’s hair as doe brown eyes turn up to him. Simon’s buzz is starting to grow out, and Johnny offers to shave it for him.
Simon agrees. He’s leaned forward, arms wrapped around Johnny’s hips and head pressed against Johnny’s waist. His eyelashes flutter softly against Johnny. Simon drags a hand down Johnny’s abdomen, fingers brushing through the thick hair there. He follows his happy trail, before moving down to mouth at Johnny’s bulge through the material of his briefs.
Johnny has to lean against the sink as he takes in the sight before him. Ghost, large, powerful, dominating, stern, intimidating Ghost is on his knees before him. His superior. His lieutenant. It’s a heady feeling that never gets old. Ghost turns his eyes up to meet Johnny’s again and then its not Ghost in front of him at all. It’s Simon again. Slightly awkward, caring, warm, beautiful Simon. Still large, still powerful, still overwhelming in the best way, but there’s a sense of comfort and safety that Johnny feels when he looks into his eyes.
Johnny’s looks down at Simon’s handy-work. He’s gotten the material all wet, and Johnny wastes no time in pointing it out.
“I have.”
Simon smirks at him, and it sends another pang of arousal shooting through Johnny.
“If I pull these down, will I find them wet on the inside, too?”
Johnny doesn’t give him the satisfaction of easy agreement, knowing Simon likes the push and pull as much as he does.
“You can find out yourself, smug bastar-“
His snarky words are cut off with a yelp as Simon does exactly that, yanking Johnny’s briefs down, letting them settle around his ankles before beginning his own inspection. He places one hand on Johnny’s hip while the other plays with the curls of his pubes, not touching him where he wants to be touched. He holds the smirk on his face as his eyes keep Johnny’s pinned to him like magnets. It’s now that Johnny remembers that while Simon is on his knees in front of him, he’s still in charge. Simon and Ghost are the same man. Simon rarely gives up control, and this time is no different.
Johnny whimpers. Simon still doesn’t move, waiting, endlessly patient. Johnny tries to shift his hips, hoping to connect Simon’s hand to where he wants to be touched. Simon clicks his tongue. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. Johnny knows what he’s waiting for.
“Please, Si.”
“Please what, Johnny?”
“Please touch me. Find out how wet I am for you.”
Simon’s answering smile feels like a blessing and a taunt all in one. He nods, the very picture of benevolence.
“Whatever you want, Johnny.”
Finally, slowly, he shifts his hand down, dragging his fingers gently over Johnny’s wet folds. He brings them back, holding them in front his face, inspecting them. They glisten with Johnny’s arousal and his cheeks heat as Simon pops them into his mouth, licking them clean.
“Delicious, Johnny. All this from me slobbering on your dick?”
Johnny didn’t get the chance to answer before Simon starts exploring again, this time focusing on his actual dick. Johnny’s been lucky with the results of his bottom growth after starting testosterone. His small dick sticks out, erect and aching and always so sensitive. Simon blows cool air on it and Johnny’s legs tremble in anticipation.
“And how about this one? Should I swallow this one, too?”
Simon doesn’t wait for Johnny’s answering whimper. He leans forward and takes Johnny’s dick into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the length. It’s too much. Too much and not enough and Johnny is torn between trying to pull out of Simon’s hold and thrusting his hips forward for more. He settles on grasping at Simon’s broad shoulders for balance. The contrast of his tan hands against the freckles of Simon’s pale skin is beautiful, but he can’t focus on that now as Simon licks and sucks at him. He’s granted a reprieve but only barely when Simon pushes his legs apart to get his tongue lower and further in, lapping at his folds and prodding into him like he’s a starved man and Johnny’s pussy is the only sustenance around.
The sounds coming from Simon’s efforts are loud and lewd, a squelching that makes Johnny’s ears burn red, no matter how many times he and Simon are intimate. The noises that Simon makes aren’t any better. He groans as he pulls Johnny’s cunt deeper to his mouth, and Johnny is reminded of a dog who is growling protectively over his meal.
“Fuck, Si.”
Johnny is close and Simon knows it.
“Give it to me, Johnny.”
Simon punctuates the order with a quick bite to Johnny’s inner thigh before heading back to pay more attention to Johnny’s dick. Johnny could definitely cum from this alone, but Simon gives him more, always so generous. He shoves two of his thick fingers inside Johnny’s hole, his own lubrication making the slide easy, and Johnny shouts as the tips of Simon’s fingers instantly find that rough patch inside him and starting rubbing.
His orgasm bursts over him with the added sensation and Simon takes it all, fingering and sucking and licking him through it, even to the point of over sensitivity. When Simon pulls back, his mouth and lower half of his face are slick with Johnny’s arousal. His face is so self-satisfied, eyelids lowered and lips smug, even as he pants heavily.
Johnny lowers himself to his knees with Simon’s assistance, and he feels like he’ll die if he goes another second without kissing Simon, so he does. Johnny holds Simon’s face in his hands, brushing tenderly over the scruff on Simon’s jaw that he didn’t get a chance to shave off yet. Johnny can already feel the burn from that scruff on his inner thighs, but he doesn’t care, too distracted with the need to press his mouth against Simon’s. He tastes himself in Simon’s mouth, that salty, slightly tangy taste that Simon is so ravenous for. When Johnny moves his hand down to Simon’s own cock, hoping to stroke him to completion while they kiss, he finds Simon’s own boxers already wet and Simon himself softened. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow.
“Ye got off just from eating me out?”
Simon’s not embarrassed as he starts to get up with another groan (such an old man, Johnny thinks fondly) and hold out his hands to help Johnny back up as well.
“How could I not when my boy tastes so good for me?”
Even though he just came, arousal washes over Johnny’s body at Simon’s words. He tugs Simon’s hands, leading him back to their bedroom.
“We don’t have to meet Price and Gaz for another two hours. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you what else your boy can do.”
Simon’s bark of laughter and swat to Johnny’s ass as he followed him was all the answer he needed.