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Nekromantik, Not Quite Romantic
By Rayna
Pairing: Joey/Wednesday
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Voyeurism, I suppose.
Disclaimer: I've nothing to do with anything involving the movie Nekromantik.
September 2005
It wasn't so unusual to lay on the couch with Joey and watch a movie. Sometimes Joey would even lean his back against Wednesday's chest, use Wednesday as a pillow, and it wasn't so unusual for Wednesday to lace his fingers atop Joey's stomach as they lay, reclined. Joey didn't squirm at all, and Wednesday was always too enthralled with the movie to think overly much about their position.
Eric found the entire thing awkward, but continued to peek through the part in the curtain just to see what was going on. Nothing unusual was ever happening, though, and he was always disappointed.
One night, after Wednesday had been able to find a movie called "Nekromantik" at a shady video store in the town they had passed through that day, he and Joey had assumed their normal position on the couch in the back of the tour bus. Wednesday had his head on the armrest and both arms around Joey, who had settled comfortably between Wednesday's legs, facing the television. They had a blanket pulled over them, and all the lights were out save for what came from the television.
The second particularly graphic sex scene, filled with blood, gore, and nasty, wet, smacking noises had Joey's breath catching. He drew his legs up and moved around, unable to find a position that was comfortable again, while Wednesday was practically unfazed by the movie's content. Joey's wriggling became more distracting the longer it went on, and finally, Wednesday tightened his arms around him, holding him roughly down, and he told him to be still.
Joey tried to be still--he really did, and for the most part, he succeeded. He felt extremely overheated, but was unwilling to remove the blanket and thus bring more attention to his present dilemma. He slid a bit farther down Wednesday's chest, so that the back of his head was even with Wednesday's lower set of ribs.
Wednesday sighed and, taking a firm grip on Joey's upper arms, pulled him back up so far that Joey's head became nestled in the crook of Wednesday's neck. Cautiously, Joey leaned back, breathing deeply and trying to calm down. He shut his eyes to block the vulgarity on the screen, but was unable to keep out the moans and grunts associated with the movie. It was intended to be in the genre of horror, but all Joey'd seen were people screwing dead corpses; that was scary in and of itself, but not horror in good taste.
While Joey was focusing his thoughts on the possible genres for the movie, he became aware of Wednesday's hands moving. Semi-consciously, Joey's tongue darted out to lick his dry lips and he draped his arms over the sides of Wednesday's body, letting his hands rest on the outside of Wednesday's hips. Instinct told him to slide down so he could lay on his back, because his head had become incredibly light and dizzy, but he found that Wednesday's legs were holding him up, while his hands were making a slow, almost casual crawl down Joey's chest.
Joey whimpered as Wednesday's cold fingers played in the trimmed tufts of hair leading into his pants. He wanted to beg, wanted to demand, but his vocal chords refused to cooperate with his wishes. All he could do was gasp, and gasp again as Wednesday gripped his cock through his pants. His breath came in wracked shudders; he was spread so fully atop Wednesday, neck arched with his face buried beneath Wednesday's hair, that he had completely abandoned all else but the want of having his need fulfilled. It was, quite literally, in Wednesday's hands now, but Wednesday knew just how to touch Joey to make those gasps turn to quiet, stifled moans of pleasure.
Fingers calmly popped open the button, slowly, carefully pulled down the zipper, then tenderly took the heated flesh into his hand. While his left hand ran soothingly up and down Joey's chest, the right stroked his hard, oozing cock.
Joey sucked the skin of Wednesday's neck while rocking his hips up to meet the hand that so tortured him. Wednesday's eyes hadn't left the television; his hands were working blindly, but he had tilted his head for Joey's mouth to be able to kiss and suck his neck. Already, he felt Joey's body beginning to spasm, and he quickly removed his hand from Joey's cock to prolong the torment and the pleasure. Joey grunted in a whiny, angry manner and took hold of Wednesday's hand, where he guided it back to his leaking erection and started the pumping motion up again. This time, Wednesday didn't stop, and when Joey's moans escaladed, he only jerked his hand faster along the hot, moist flesh, until Joey's shudders became uncontrollable and with a sensually drawn-out moan, Joey shot his pearly essence onto his stomach. Wednesday continued to stoke his flesh until Joey had nothing left to give and had melted down against him, all nerves loose and sated.
The ending credits rolled on the screen. Wednesday clicked the television off.
The room was dark, and Eric's wide, horrified eyes were invisible beyond the barely-parted curtain.
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