supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jiang is aware that he's always been sort of on the outside of the group, of any group, at Aglionby. He doesn't come from an up-and-coming family, like most of the Vancouver kids. He isn't white, like the rest of Prokopenko and Kavinsky's miscreants. But he is vital. He is reliable. He is dedicated to these boys.

He is aware that, in more than just what he looks like or where he comes from, he's a little outside of the group. It comes in waves, in whispers. In a tiny scowl when Skov sneers something nasty, or Swan assures that his watching Jiang at soccer practice isn't a gay thing. Jiang never says anything about it. He isn't, so it doesn't matter.

But his eyes linger. He looks at boys as much as he looks at girls, and that's probably pretty dangerous for him to do. So he's quiet and doesn't say anything about it.

Tonight, they're getting high in Kavinsky's weird in-home theater. Kavinsky has taken over three seats all to himself. Skov's wandered off to hit on Kavinsky's mom. Jiang has no idea where Swan is. But Prokopenko is nearby, half glancing toward Kavinsky's ostensibly sleeping form as if no one will notice. Jiang does. He pinches his joint between his fingers and sits down, offering it to Proko as he exhales slowly.

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"Shit, uh. Yeah. Holy fuck." Jiang laughs and sits up, not quite taking out his fingers yet. He needs a condom. He needs more lube.

He doesn't want any of that shit, but he needs it, if they're really doing this.

Proko gropes for the bag, trying to be helpful. He struggles with the box of condoms but manages to get it open, got one passed back to Jiang.

His arousal is biting through the haze of pot and beer and all he can think of is the way Jiang's fingers are filling him up, and how fucking hot he feels everywhere their bodies touch.

It's a series of fumbles later, careful ones, before Jiang has the condom on and slicked up. He eases his fingers out of Proko's ass and laughs, grabbing his shirt to clean his fingers off, tossing the bit of fabric aside.

Gently, he pushes Proko onto his belly and moves between his sprawling thighs. He rubs the head of his cock against Proko's hole, and then, slowly, guides himself in.

"Oh, fuck."

Proko moves easily, almost bonelessly, as Jiang nudges him onto his stomach. He manages to get his knees under him but he stays low. The moment draws out, lasting forever and just a few seconds before he feels Jiang push against him, push into him.

"Fuck," he echoes, trying to keep quiet as Jiang pushes in. It feels kinda tight but he doesn't care. It's good. "Fuck, Jiang. Shit."

Jiang bites his lip. It's an effort not to just grab Proko's hips and fuck into him, like he might have with a girl. Proko's slick, but tight, and he sounds so, so good with that first ease in.

"Don't stop, don't stop," he pants, shoulders down as he rests his weight on his forearms. He doesn't think Jiang will stop, but fuck he can't shut up. He just--he just has to keep it down. He can do that.

Prokopenko bites his lip and grips the blankets beneath him.

Boldly, Jiang slaps a hand against Proko's ass. It made a sharp noise, but not too loud, he thinks. It lets him slip in another inch, another inch--he's surprised when he bottoms out, sighing out a breath and bracing his hands on the bed.

"Holy shit, Illya."

Proko jumps and pushes his face against the bed to stifle the sound he makes when Jiang smacks his ass. Holy shit. He lets his knees slide further apart as Jiang pushes deeper, deeper, until he can feel Jiang's hips pushing up against his ass. He shivers when Jiang says his name.

"Fuck," he whines. "Oh fuck, Will. You feel good." He felt so full but it was really fucking good.

Jiang can't remember the last time Proko said his name. Never like this. Something burns into Jiang's stomach.

He grabs Proko by the hips, and starts slowly once he's centered himself a little. He wants to fuck him, not hurt him. Sometimes, there's a fine line. Tonight, it feels like a pretty fucking obvious distinction.

Proko sinks into it when Jiang grips his hips. It's like nothing else he's felt. The lube makes the slide easy and before long hrs starting to rock back, he's trying to meet each thrust.

He mumbles into the bed, only half in English and even when he manages that his accent mangles it.

"Holy shit," Jiang breathes as Proko starts to move, as he works his hips back to meet the thrusts. Jiang is always proud of his second round, but he's going to go insane like this.

He hauls Proko's hips up a little higher, and fucks into him a little harder. "Like this?"

"Oh shit, oh shit yes, like that." Proko moans sharply, arching his back a little as Jiang fucks into him, picking up the pace like he means it. There's something exceptionally satisfying in feeling, hearing, Jiang's hips smack against his ass with every thrust.

"Fuck Will. Trakhny mene yak poviya."

Edited 2017-02-24 05:05 (UTC)

"Ssh," Jiang murmurs, but his smile is thick in his voice. He leans down, hips still pistoning, and scrapes his teeth against the nape of Proko's neck. He gives Proko another playful slap on the ass.

"I don't speak Ukrainian, asshole," he murmurs. "Ni yao wo shuo zhongwen ma?"

The teeth, the tease of Jiang's breath against his neck have him moaning. He's trying to be quiet, he is. His voice catches the next time Jiang slaps his ass and it's not fucking fair how much he likes the sting of it.

"I can't-- I can't--" He hiccups on his breath, unable to get the words out. He can't speak Chinese; he isn't sure he can keep translating himself. He meant to say at least one of those. Instead his hand gropes back, pressed it over Jiang's where it's gripping his hip. Proko hopes there's finger-shaped bruises when this is over. "Shit-- shit, oh fuck," he gasps, tensing for a second when Jiang's dick does something just fucking right. Holy fuck.

"Fuck I wanna come," he whimpers.

Jiang bites his lip for a second. He wants that too; he wants to come too, though not quite yet.

He pulls out and drags Proko around onto his back. He can't look right at him, a little embarrassed to want this so badly, but he nudges back in, wrapping Proko's legs around his hips and grabbing the other boy's hips so he can fuck into him roughly.

"Rang wo kan ni."

"What the fuck," he gasps when Jiang just pulls out like that. Proko doesn't have a lot of time to make a full protest though because he's on his back, looking up at Jiang as he pushes close again, pushes in. His thighs tighten against Jiang's sides and he can't help the euphoric look that crosses his face.

"Oh fuck," he moans, mouth hanging open. "Fuck-- fuck, like that, like that."

He grips the pillow, the blanket, whatever the fuck he can get his hands on as he tries to keep moving, to meet every hard thrust of Jiang's hips. Proko drops one hand down to stroke his cock, needing, needing to fucking come.

Prokopenko slaps his free hand over his own mouth, struggling to shut up when his orgasm hits him, more intense than the one in the back seat.

In that moment, Proko looks so euphoric, so blissful, that Jiang thinks he knows why Kavinsky is always looking at him.

"Holy shit," Jiang hisses. Proko makes a mess of his stomach and chest, and Jiang keeps going, desperate, straining. And watching Proko now, watching the faces he makes as he's fucked.

He isn't sure which is better: getting fucked when he's feeling needy or getting fucked after he's come. Prokopenko moaned, voice muffled behind his hand as Jiang fucked into him, the force of it making him rock a little.

Slowly he let his hand slide away, instead trying to grab Jiang's thigh, urging him on. "Fuck you feel so good," he whimpers, voice strained as he tries to stay quiet.

Jiang shivers and leans down, kissing Proko. It smears the mess of his come between them, but Jiang doesn't care, can't, just then. His hips are starting to lose rhythm, erratic and wild and rough. He wished he wasn't wearing the condom, but it's good for the first time.

He can feel it coming, but he tries to hold off. His lips smudge against Proko's. "Where should I come. Huh?" He pushes Proko's hair off his forehead. "Bet you'd look good with a facial."

Proko caught Jiang's face, trying to hold him into the kiss as their bodies brushed together, lewd and slick. The question and its follow up make him moan. Well, he's been thinking all night he wants to be marked up by Jiang, right?

He nods but it takes a moment for him to manage actual words. "Yes," he gasps out. "Do it, Will."

"Fuck," Jiang breathes. He grabs Proko's chin for a second, just holding him as he fucks into him a few more times. He's too close; it's a struggle to not come in the middle of pulling out, but Jiang manages. Manages to get the condom off. Manages to climb up onto Proko's chest.

It only takes him about two strokes before he's starting to come, painting streaks of come onto Proko's cheek and chin and mouth.

Proko is in a daze by the time Jiang pulls out. He stares up at him, lips parted as he tries to catch his breath; he closes his eyes as soon as the first streak of come hits his cheek - he doesn't want to get it in his eyes, even if Jiang has good aim.

"Shit," he breathes. "Holy shit."

Jiang takes a second to look at the gloss of his come on Proko's face. Then he laughs, a little breathlessly, and lets himself roll over, sitting down next to him.

He feels boneless, floating. His laughter turns into little giggles, and he shoves Proko's shoulder gently.

"Not a bad showing. You sure you've never done that before?"

Proko just grins and looks over at him, not even trying to clean up yet. He feels a mess and he wants to linger there. "Promise," he says, feeling a little shiver inside. Shit, Jiang looks really good like that, just kind of smiling and breathless and loose. Shit.

Jiang grins, and reaches out, ruffling Proko's hair gently. Now, in the aftermath, he waited for Proko to excuse himself, to ask for a ride, to call this whole mess of a moment off. That was fine; Jiang's used to it.

He leans over and kisses him, despite the come on his face.