bringing_sexy_beck | AU

Entry tags:

AU | for Corbin}

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 takes a little while until Corbin starts to ease up a little bit, until he starts to get sweet and easy around that first finger that Quentin's been using on him. And so he smeared in some more lube and nudged in with a second finger.

"Here we go, baby boy," he said. "You just breathe."

He was maybe going a little faster with the second finger than the first, but it was still mostly gentle. Like he cared. Like he could make this the best night of Corbin's sweet young life.

Another gasp, another whimper as he's stretched and he feels the burn of it now, his arms shaking a bit, and he puts his head in his hands, just trying to breathe, trying to relax, since that had felt a bit better, but Quentin's fingers are so thick, or they feel like they are.

After a very long moment of little hitched, whimpering breaths, his hand slips down to wrap around his cock, maybe that would help? He wants to touch himself because the things Quentin is saying, the tone he's saying them in, is so very nice, and makes him feel shivery, but maybe touching himself will help. He gives his cock a stroke or two, and almost immediately that feels better, so he keeps going, his cock was soft, but that was just for now.

It was an almost subtle gesture, Corbin reaching down to touch himself. Quentin hums thoughtfully, his free hand pawing across Corbin's ass, spreading the cheek slightly.

This time. Teaching him to get hard and slutty for a man like him. He can let Corbin stroke himself this time, get all sweetly turned on and desperate for it. Quentin likes that he wants to make himself feel good. Better than just knuckle-biting through it.

"That's good," Quentin sighs against his ear. He curls his fingers a little bit, seeking his prostate. "You keep doing what feels good, baby boy."

Corbin nods, whimpering as he strokes himself, okay that was helping, and he felt himself relax as he found a good rhythm, just about in time with Beck's fingers. And then they just barely brush against something that feels good, makes his cock jump in his fist and he gasps.

"Fuck..." he bites at his bottom lip, shivering as he presses his ass back against Beck's fingers. Okay, that had felt good, he wanted more of that, please.

"Oh, there it is." Quentin's voice is heavy, thick, praising. He scrapes his teeth briefly on Corbin's shoulder and keeps doing what he's doing with his fingers, encouraging Corbin to move, to fuck back on his fingers now that he's started. That gasp, that swear, the way he's starting to open up? It's all fucking good.

Quentin sinks down to his knees behind Corbin. He keeps moving his fingers insistent. He starts to tease with a third finger, and leans in to tease his tongue against him too.

"What a good boy," he murmurs between sweeping brushes of his tongue. "Getting hard for me. Getting ready for me."

The repeated brushes of Quentin's fingers have his shivering, his hips now moving back insistently against his fingers, even when he goes to put a third finger in the pleasure has him relaxed enough that he can ease into it. The wet heat against his ass has him gasping in surprise, but in there with the fingers and his own hand on his cock it feels... it feels good. His hand picks up speed, he knew, that Mr. Beck intended to fuck him, and that he probably shouldn't come before that, but he also knew this was just feeling better and better, and he didn't want to stop, not yet.

So he whimpers, quiet curses dropping from his lips as Quentin keeps stretching him open and god but it felt fuckin good. He hadn't realized it would feel this good.

Quentin pull back from licking his ass just enough to admire how he's taking it, the reflection of his face in the mirror, the flush working down the back of his neck and the shiver under his skin, how his thighs tremble. Oh, he can't wait to have him in bed, can't wait to be buried inside him.

Can't wait to have that tight ass hugging his cock. Corbin's sweet virgin ass is going to feel so good when he comes in it.

"You gonna make a mess on that dresser, baby boy?" he murmurs. He curls his fingers again, goes for the his prostate all over again, really milking it for him. "C'mon, Corbin. C'mon, sweetheart. Let's see it. There's a good boy. Come on my fingers, baby."

"Fuck fuck fuck oh god oh fuuuuuck" he whines, his movements desperate for a few short moments, but even if he'd wanted to he can't hold back, not with what Quentin is doing back there, not with those filthy words in his ear and his own hand rapidly stroking his cock. He tenses, coming with a surprised cry, painting little stripes of come on the cheap dresser of his hotel room, tensing around the fingers inside him. His head falls to the dresser with a quiet thud, his breathing heavy as he shivers through his orgasm. "Oh god..."

"There it is," Quentin sighs, soft, sweet praise. He spreads his fingers inside Corbin as he comes, keeps him spread and loose despite the sweet clench of his ass. Oh, to be inside him when he comes. He'll plan it for the next one. He can already practically feel it.

His cock twitches inside his jeans, a little desperate.

He kisses, everywhere he can get. Praising, adoring, complimenting. "You did so good, you did so, so good, Corbin. Oh, my handsome boy, my good boy."

His fingers don't stop moving, don't stop fucking him, still milking over his prostate, prolonging his pleasure, making it a little oversensitive, a little desperate. Quentin scrapes his teeth at his earlobe, at his neck, just gently. Not leaving marks where someone might see.

"You did so good for daddy, didn't you? My good boy." He pressed his clothed cock against him. "Do you want to keep going, or wait?"

Oh the praise feels so good in the aftermath of his orgasm, and he basks in them as much as in the glow the orgasm has left him with. He's stopped stroking, but Quentin's fingers haven't and his shudders and jerks it felt good, but in the way that made him hold on to the side of the dresser with a whine.

It was a lot, but it was a good a lot, and oh he'd done good? That was so very nice to hear, he wants to keep hearing that, and the way Quentin's cock is pressed against him he shudders. "God... fuck.... M-ngh Mr. Beck... W-wait please..." His cock was trying to get hard again already, it was already twitching, but it was starting to hurt too, but in a weirdgoodbad sort of way. He whined, his thighs shaking as Beck kept fucking him with his fingers for the moment. He moaned, but it was shaky, breathless, and his whine was breathy as Beck's fingers moved in him and after a moment he wasn't sure if he wanted him to stop anyway.

Quentin slows to a stop, but doesn't pull his fingers out. He stays still, waits. Patient. Poised. He showers Corbin in sweet, affectionate kisses. It's hard to keep his hand still when they're standing like that. It would be harder to make Corbin move, no doubt, so it's better to treat him.

This time.

He leers against his ear.

"What are we gonna do about that mess you made, sweetheart?"

Corbin turns enough to hopefully get some of those kisses on his lips, his own parted because he... he wanted something, he wanted to feel Quentin kiss him after that, wanted to hold him and be held.

But he pauses after he's gotten a couple, looking down at the dresser where he'd made a mess and blushing. "I uh, I can get a washcloth and clean it... um, later..." He'd made the mess after all, so he should be the one to clean it up. But that would mean moving, and that would mean not having Quentin's voice in his ear, or his fingers up his ass, and he doesn't want to do that right now. He can clean it up later.

Quentin shushes Corbin gently, soothing the worried ramble of his voice. He was teasing, and he doesn’t mean anything cruel about it. If anything, he thinks the smear of come on the dresser is a nice reminder for the rest of the nice. It’ll be cute to watch him try and clean it up when it’s dried and stained into the fake wood.

He kisses him sweetly, again and again, because Corbin wants to. Quentin doesn’t care one way about kissing, but Corbin seems to like it, and he’s so young and sweet and Quentin can give him that.

Slowly, he eases his fingers out of him. They’re messy and his fingers and wrist are a bit stiff, and he’s sure that Corbin’s ass looks delicious. He can’t wait to sink his cock in him and fuck him until he shakes like a leaf.

“Come on,” he whispers, coaxing him to the bed. “Which one is yours, baby?”

The kisses make him melt against Quentin with an eager whimper, and when the fingers slide out he turns around to wrap his arms around Quentin's neck, to stand on tiptoe and kiss him again with his lips parted. The lack of something in his ass now feels strange, and he's left squirming as a desire makes itself known for there to be something up there, he felt empty, and he wanted to be full again.

He lets himself be coaxed, loosening his grip so he doesn't have to walk on tiptoe. "Um, further away from the door..." There's some stuff on it, a phone, a few bits of clothes in his size, and it was where Quentin had picked up the lube from in the first place. He's nervous again, but less so, Quentin had made sure he had felt good before, so that meant this was going to feel good too, right? God, his first time was gonna be with a guy as hot as a movie star. And he thought he was hot too.

Quentin pulled Corbin gently toward the bed, bringing the lube along with them. He nudged him gently into the bed, then leaned down and gave him a kiss. Before he joined him, he disappeared into the bathroom briefly, before coming back with a handtowel. He tossed that onto the side table between the two beds. For later. No fun to have to get up for it, when they were ready to clean up, and like hell was he going to use his clothes for clean up.

Then he stripped his shirt, and his jeans. He left his boxer briefs, clinging to generously hairy legs and concealing everything he knew Corbin really wanted to see. He had some chest hair, and a generous little happy trail from his belly button down into the shorts, inviting investigation. His boner was obvious. The shorts looked expensive, because they were.

He joined Corbin in bed and ran his fingers into his hair.

"It's gonna be easier if you're on your face," he said gently, giving him a kiss.

Corbin sat on the bed and watched him as Quentin stripped for him and god he was just as hot almost naked as he was clothed, his eyes taking him in and god but he wants to touch him, so he does, leaning forward into that kiss with an eager moan, his cock already eager and ready for more. After a moment's hesitation he cups him through the fabric of his boxer briefs, at least before Quentin reminds him he should do otherwise.

"Oh... yeah alright..." He was sure he was right, but how was he supposed to kiss Mr. Beck while he was like that? But he does as requested, rolling over so he was on his hands and knees and looked back over his shoulder at the older man. "Um, like this?" Or did he want him with his head all the way down and his ass all the way up?

He does look lovely on his hands and knees, and he would look lovely with his face pressed into the mattress, ass lifted up to meet everything. But instead, Quentin leans in, fits himself over his back, and slowly flattens him all the way to the bed.

It's not crushing, but it's lovely and firm. Corbin's body is brilliantly warm under his own, and he kisses his neck, his shoulders, grinds against his ass. He pushes his boxer briefs down and lets his cock out, just to rub against that sweet little ass. There's still plenty of lube, but he won't nudge in.

"Such a good boy," he sighs. "Such a good, lovely boy."

Corbin hadn't been expecting that, but he lets Beck push him down anyway, and then he's sandwiched between the older man and the mattress, the friction from his cock against his ass making his own hips move and grind against the cheap bedspread and he whimpers.

"Fuck..." Beck's not laying on him with his full weight, he can move, can grind against the older man's cock and the mattress under him. He can whimper and moan, his face pressed against the mattress to muffle the sound a bit. "God..." He doesn't think he's going to come that quickly, but he can also feel his cock getting hard from where he can feel the friction against the mattress.

"Good boy," Quentin sighs, breathing and mouthing the praise into Corbin's skin. His mouth, his teeth, the slow roll of his hips. He fits his hand between them, holding his cock against the cleft of Corbin's ass and just fucking that neat track of flesh. No pressing in, nothing but filthy rutting.

If he were twenty years younger, it would have been very boyish of him. Instead, it's a tease. Almost forty, grinding up on some fourteen year old's ass, feeling how slick it is from him fingering him out.

"Goddamn," he sighed. "Glad you sent me that picture, sweetheart."

Corbin isn't sure if he would feel more or less dirty if Beck were actually fucking him. He knows the pressure, the slick slide feels good, the way his cock rubs against the mattress makes him whimper because everything is far too sensitive right now. It makes him whine, makes him want more, makes him push back and rut against him because it's a lot yes, but it's not enough.

"Fuck... y-yeah... yeah..." He was too, god he really was, and he whines, forehead pressed against the mattress, his ass pressing back against Beck's dick even if it wasn't in him.

Quentin sighs. He grabs the lube and pours some over his cock, over Corbin's crack, and keeps fucking along the way he is, rubbing and grinding, now smearing the mess of it. Oh, there's going to be a huge mess on the bed. He doesn't care at all.

Slowly, lining it up, he eases the head into Corbin's tight, lovely asshole.

"Oh shit," he sighs. "Oh, goddamn. Shit." He spreads his thighs to either side of Corbin's legs and squeezes them neatly, tightly shut, and eases himself into that tight, gripping heat of him, swearing the whole time as he slowly fills him up.

The first sound Corbin makes is a whimper, and Beck can probably see the way the flush that starts on his cheeks moves to cover his ears and the back of his neck, his shoulders. He feels filthy in a way he never has before, one that churns in his stomach and mixes with the arousal in a way that he's not sure about. But it feels good, god it feels good, so he tries not to think about how dirty he feels. It's fine.

And then Quentin's cock is finally pushing into his ass and he cries out, his hands holding tight in the bedsheets because it's so much, the pain and the stretch, even with the lube, it feels so big it's huge inside of him with his thighs pressed together, and his curses are breathless. He remembers stroking his cock had felt good, but he can't get his hand down there, can only rut his hips against the bed, against the wet puddle from the lube that ran down his ass, which moves his ass on Beck's cock. And it helps, but fuck it's still a lot.

"Fuck... g-god Que- fuck oh god..." He whimpers and whines the whole time the cock is pressing into him, and he can't decide if he wants to muffle the pathetic noises he's making or not. He's not sure he can decide much of anything right now, not with his body and mind so occupied by Quentin's dick.

Quentin fits his hand between Corbin and the bed, slipping his fingers around Corbin's cock and stroking him lazily, adding heat and pressure to the friction of fucking him down against the mattress.

Everything is slow, lazy. He's not even fucking him yet, just sinking in still. An inch, then two, in then out, sinking in a little more on each sink of his hips as he sighed against the boy's neck. He feels spectacularly wet and tight. Corbin is such a lovely, squirming mess, and it's a beautiful struggle to not hold down his shoulders and fuck him until he's screaming and crying.

He holds himself back, just enough. Squeezes Corbin's cock some more, strokes him sweetly, and groans against his neck.

"That's it, sweetheart, let me hear how much you want it," he murmurs. "Make some noise for me. Make some noise while you take that cock so well."

Corbin's hips can't stop moving, rocking between Quentin's hand and his cock, and he moans, he can't help it, he makes an almost strangled sound even if he's not trying to hold them back. Every time Quentin rocks in there's more to him, and he curses and ruts between them.

"Pl-aaaah, oh fuck oh god..." he doesn't think he could be quiet even if he tried. He felt a bit of a thrill of pride that he was taking it so well, and fuck but it felt good with Quentin's hand wrapped around his cock, and he can't seem to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, the moans and the whimpers and the cursing as Quentin sinks deeper into him.

Corbin's continuous, slutty movements helped. If he was moving, than maybe Quentin won't need to pause and wait for him to get used to it. Still, as he finally fills him all the way up, he pauses. He waits. He strokes him a bit, between his belly and the bed, as he stays all the way in him.

"That's it," Quentin says. "That's the whole cock, baby boy. Say thank you, like a good boy, now you've gotten the whole lot of it."

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