supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

(no subject)

Spring arrives with rain in Henrietta, and baseball practice at Aglionby starts anyway. Jiang doesn't normally give two shits about most of the sports at Aglionby. But he has a special, quiet spot for baseball.

Mostly that has to do with watching Illya Prokopenko in tight white pants and a navy jersey that manages to make his shoulders look wide and his waist nipped in neatly. He looks handsome in the baseball uniform, even when his knees and ass are muddy. A lot of the guys do, but especially Proko.

Jiang is aware that he's got it, and bad. But he's not about to say a damn thing.

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"Oh shit," he gasps. "Oh shit--" His voice hiccups when he realizes he never heard the tear of a wrapper, and it just-- it feels different. Dizzy, wanting, Proko pushes his hips back, trying to get Jiang in him.

He doesn't care. He wants it so bad.

"Fuck me," he breathes, cheek against the back of the seat. "Fuck me, Will. Please."

Jiang shivers. He can still stop, still pull back, get that condom.

He wraps his arms around Proko, grabs him by the chest. His mouth scoots close to Proko's ear as he squeezes him. "You want me to raw you, baby? I'll pull out. Tell me what you want, baby."

"Put your dick in me, man," he whines, trying to push back on him. Jiang's hands are perfect, holding him, grabbing him. "Fuck me, Will. Fuck me and come wherever you want, okay? Just-- just not there." His face gets hot as he says it because it feels like admitting something.

"I won't, baby," Jiang assures. He wants to, a part of him wants to. But that's what condoms are for.

For now, though, with his hands on Proko's breasts and his cock so hard it hurts, he slams into him. Everything is hot, slick, desperate. He bottoms out quickly, and then rocks forward just a touch.

Proko wonders if he should try to be quiet, but he can't. He moans loudly when Jiang shoves into him. He almost crumples against the seat, barely able to keep himself up. It feels so fucking good. He's impatient, though, and he tries to start riding Jiang's cock, obscene and desperate.

He's still talking but it's all in loose, rambling Ukrainian now. He can't even think in English.

Jiang breathes, settling into a rough, vigorous pace. He holds onto Proko, breathes against him. His hips settle in easily. His fingers find Proko's nipples, pinching and tugging at them as they fuck.

"Fuck," he whimpers as Jiang's sharp fingers tease and twist and pinch his nipples; he swears the sensation shoots straight through him, down to his cunt.

"You feel so good," he gasps out. "You feel so fucking good, holy shit-- ah." Proko clings to the seat. "Where-- where you wanna come, Will? Where-- O Bozhe miy--"

Jiang shushes him gently. Not because he's worried about the noise, because they know nobody outside of the theater can hear them. But because if Proko keeps talking like that he's going to lose it like a damn punk.

"Haven't picked yet," he mumbles. thick with want. He traces his thumb against Proko's hole.

He stops talking, sort of. Proko pushes his face against his arm but every thrust forces another noise out of him. "Fuck, Jiang," he whines, clutching the seat to avoid sliding down too far. He feels like a rag doll but he manages to brace one hand against the seat, straightening his arm so he's pushed back against Jiang's chest. His free hand slides back, grabbing Jiang's hair tightly.

Jiang swears against Proko's shoulder. His hips are starting to stutter. He sighs against him, trying to keep it up. One hand slides down between Proko's legs, and he rubs at his clit intently.

"Oh fuck," he cries, hips jumping when Jiang goes after his clit. He has to let go, he can't keep his arm tense and he practically collapses forward, working his hips desperately. He comes suddenly, startled by the fucking intensity of it. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh-- oh fuck, oh shit, Will."

The feel of it is raw and desperate and so, so good. Jiang whines, hips stuttering more intently. He needs to pull out. He can't let himself lose it while he's inside.

He jerks out, breathing heavily. He needs to come, but he doesn't let himself, not just yet. Instead, he sinks down to the floor behind Proko, and licks obscenely at his cunt.

"Fu-uck." Proko nearly falls over when Jiang just pulls out like that and drops down, tongue sliding lewdly against him. "oh shit," he whines, all but crumpling in the seat, keeping his thighs spread as he tries not to lose his balance.

"C'mon baby," Jiang mumbles against his cunt. "C'mon, you're so good. Come on my face, baby. Keep coming for me. Oh, shit. Shit."

He brings his hand down, stroking himself quickly.

"Oh my god," he whimpers, shaking as he rides that edge until Jiang manages to coax him into another orgasm with that obscene, perfect mouth; he feels delirious, floating.

Prokopenko curls up as much as he can without shoving himself off the seat; thankfully they're pretty deep. He tries to pull his hips away; he's getting oversensitive. "I can't, I can't."

Jiang pulls back, breathing roughly. He slows his strokes, looking at Proko in the glaring light from the video playing.

"You look fuckin' spectacular, baby," Jiang whispers, running a hand up the back of his thighs. "C'mere. I wanna fuck your thighs. I wanna add to that mess."

Proko sort of dissolves onto the floor, sliding until his knees hit the carpet. He moves so his thighs are pressed together and keeps himself bent over the seat of the chair, boneless. "Wanna feel you come," he mumbles, managing to pick his head up long enough to look back at Jiang.

Jiang leans forward, catching Proko's mouth in a filthy kiss. He slides his cock between Proko's thighs, fucking the slick mess left over by Proko's pleasure. He knows he won't last long like this. "There you go, baby. Fuck. Illy...Illya..."

He feels used and it's so fucking good. Jiang's fucked almost every part of him since they left the practice field and Proko's a fucking mess from it, his thighs and Jiang's cock wet enough for Jiang to just-- to just push in like that. He slumps after the kiss, leaning on the seat.

"Wanna feel you come, baby," he mumbles. "C'mon... you're so good to me, huh? I wanna feel."

Jiang grabs Proko's hips, fucking him, trying to keep from just pushing back into his cunt. It was tempting. He wasn't going to make it.

"Fuck," he breathes. His hips stutter just a little more, and he comes with a desperate noise, spattering Proko's thighs.

He shivers when he feels that, when he feels Jiang come across his thighs. Proko feels like he can't bring himself to get up, to move. He kind of just... slides, falls to the his side on the floor with a lazy grin. He's completely fucked out and it's kind of great.

"Holy shit," Jiang breathes, a touch of laughter in his voice. He holds onto Proko, helps him ease onto the ground. The porn keeps playing behind them, flickers of light on Proko's fair skin.

Jiang traces a finger up and down his spine and lets him rest, watching him in the half-dark.

"Holy shit," he agrees, soft and a little wrecked. Proko doesn't even attempt to move, except maybe to grope for his shirt, to pull it under his head. The carpet itches his cheek. He just lays there, breathing: a filthy fucking mess with light from a porn movie lighting him up.

Eventually one hand moves, blindly seeking Jiang's until he can catch it, hold it against him.

Jiang stills his hand when Proko catches it. He sits there on the ground, cock out of his jeans, and just admires all that skin and all that trust.

He leans down and kisses Proko's shoulder, whispering against his skin in slurry Chinese.

Proko smiles tiredly and he twists a little more towards Jiang. "What're you saying?" He reaches to pull Jiang closer to him, wanting to feel a little less exposed. Jiang's body makes for a nice cover.