bringing_sexy_beck | AU

from here
Quentin was there within forty-five minutes.

He really hadn't been that far away in the first place, and he headed out as soon as Corbin sent that picture of him at the convenience store. Triangulating from there hadn't been hard. Once he had the name, he sort of figured out who Corbin is--he had a clue, but the name helped--and he might have slipped a text along to the kid's uncle. A friendly offer to keep an eye on him, he was in town, he was happy to keep him entertained. Teenagers were a handful. Nobody wanted the kid getting in trouble.

How old was he again?

(Turned out, a little younger than Quentin had thought, but he was still in the car on the road, on the way.)

When he gets to the motel, he parks not far from where the pin is. He doesn't linger for very long. Long enough to maybe make it seem like this is something new and exciting and adventurous for him too. It isn't. That wasn't the point. If he can cultivate that edge of tenderness before anything happened, Corbin will be more at ease. It was probably a little bit gross that Quentin knows that.

Eventually, he climbs out of the car and goes up to the door, knocking.

"Corbin?" he calls gently. "Hey, it's Quentin Beck."

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It's cute, that Corbin just needs the barest suggestion and then he's moving like that. Quentin lets him set the pace for a second, let's him move just like that, back and forth, back and forth, between cock and palm, building something up. Quentin's sure it's overstimulating and glorious, wonderfully too much, but Corbin's not complaining--and even if he were, Quentin would shush him, tell him how wonderfully he's doing, and keep on.

After all, Quentin hasn't gotten his.

After a few minutes of just Corbin moving, Quentin pulls back as the boy rocks forward. He gets to the tip, almost pulls out. And as Corbin's starting to rock back, Quentin thrusts forward. It's hard and rough and a little mean, and Quentin tips his head back and groans.

He slaps Corbin's ass. Not hard, but enough that it jiggles for a second, a lovely sight. He repeats the slow, rough thrust on the next rock of Corbin's hips. "Fuck, baby," he sighs. "That's it."

It's too much, but he can't seem to stop. Every time he thinks about it his hand keeps going, it felt good yes, but more would feel better... right? His eyes are squeezed shut and he's making whimpery moans that have an edge of almost crying to them but not quite.

And then Quentin actually fucks into him and it shoves a moan out of him, it was rough and hard and it hurt but the hurt felt glorious. He shudders as Beck does it again, the slick slide and the harsh thrust and that was amazing, and he finds enough of his voice to moan and curse, the force of it shoving his cock into his hand. "Fuck... yes god... ffffuck oh god..." He whimpers at the smack, it was so much but Beck had said he was taking it so well and he wants to keep taking it well.

Each sweet sigh, each whimpering breath, has Quentin groaning. He gave up the playful, light smacks on his ass. Instead, he gripped him by the hips and held him. It was easier to fuck when he held him still.

Now, he doesn't care so much about Corbin's pleasure. The boy will touch and stroke and play with himself, he'd get off on this because that's the goal, but Quentin is focused almost entirely on the filthy act of getting himself off. And Corbin's sweet, freshly deflowered ass is just what he needs for that.

It doesn't take much at all to build up to the speed and force he wants. He fuck him hard and fast, angled to stroke over that sweet spot inside him with each thrust. "That's it, baby. That's it. You take it so good, sweet boy."

It takes his breath away how fast Beck goes from sweet to rough, how one second he's rocking back and the next he can't move his hips at all as he's roughly pounded into, each stroke making sparks go off behind his eyes and pleasure jolt up his spine as he feels the force of it all the way down his spine.

And he can't move his hips, but he can still stroke himself and it's so much, it's hurt and pleasure and it makes his toes curl as he gasps and moans and cries out, his other hand still clenched in the sheets. He can't tell how close he is to coming, his cock is hard again and it's leaking, but his hand shakes with every stroke now that Quentin is really fucking him.

"There it is," Quentin sighs, tilting his head back and sighing intently. Corbin is a lovely, fluttering mess of pleasure, clenching, grabbing the sheets and his cock. Quentin can hardly hold back when everything is as lovely as all that. He drapes over Corbin's back, kissing and biting at his neck and shoulder, sighing against his skin.

"Lovely boy," he murmurs into his skin. "Take me so good. Fuck, baby."

Corbin can't help but moan and gasp, it's mostly just 'oh fuck' or other babbling nonsense, he whimpers and whines, shuddering with each thrust as Beck fucks him, the change in position lets him move a little bit, lets him thrust into his shaking hand and press back just a bit, just barely, and he moves his head to expose his neck, fuck that felt good, and he moans with every bite. Every thrust shoves out a little cry or a moan and he moves his hand quicker until he's crying out into the mattress, coming again with Beck's cock up his ass.

Feeling Corbin squeeze around him, feeling him cry out and come in a mess on the bed, was lovely. Quentin keeps driving, keeps fucking him through it, and focuses instead on his own pleasure. That was his only goal now, and he could feel the edge of it coming toward him.

It didn't take more than a few extra minutes before he was really almost there.

"Where do you want it, huh?" he asked, voice sweet though there was an edge to it. "In your ass? On your face? Tell me where you want this load, baby."

Corbin's squeezed his eyes shut, not saying much other than moaning and cursing as Quentin keeps fucking him and it goes back over into too much, so much it hurts and he feels so much fuller than he should be. And then Quentin asks him a question and he's not sure what to say. It barely even processes as something he needs to respond to, but he manages anyway. Sort of.

"Ahhh, fuck... ass please.... asss.... oh fuck..." He wants Quentin to stop but he wants him to keep going even more, it's going to be a mess either way so he wants to keep his cock in him as long as he can.

It's such a wonderful, mumbling, barely-there sort of answer. Quentin grips Corbin's ass tightly, gives him a swat with the other hand. He doesn't care, for a moment, that he might be hurting the boy. He looks so glorious. Taut and roughed up and beautiful, taking him like this.

Quentin slams in one last time, getting in the first hot streaks of his come. He groans, heavy and low. On the next move, he pulls back and streaks Corbin's ass, hole, back, with more come. What a lovely sight.

He presses in, fucking that mess into Corbin's beautifully abused hole. "Good boy. What a lovely, good boy."

Corbin can feel the hot splash of come on his ass and his back and he whines quietly as Beck fucks the mess into his hole. It hurt, his hand clenched tight in the sheets and his breathing heavy. But he was good, he'd done good, he was lovely, that was good, that meant he'd done a good job. He's also exhausted, and wants little else other than to fall over and sleep.

"Fuck..." he felt sluggish as he lay there, just trying to get his heart to stop pounding. God, but he felt sore already.

AU | for Corbin}

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