A Little Different This Time
By Zee
Summary: Frank horsing around. NC-17, Frank/Bob.
Disclaimer: Never happened (probably).
Notes: Written as comment porn for Charli J. Posted May 9, 2007.
***
"Gah!" Bob's exclamation is less a yell and more a huff of air forced
out of him when Frank swings into the bunk and into him. "Frankie, for
fuck's--"
He tries to shove Frank off and onto the floor, but
Frank has gotten good at this and he grabbed the edge of the bed as
soon as he landed, clinging hard. "Victory!" he yells between giggles.
"Dude, dude, now *you* have to leap onto *mine.*"
"Except for
how I'm not playing this game, remember?" Bob keeps shoving but Frank
squirms away until he ends up wedged between Bob and the wall, still
laughing. Bob flops down on the bed, exasperated, and Frank grins and
throws his thigh over Bob's lap.
"Seriously, Bryar," Frank says, poking Bob's shoulder. "You have to jump across the bus to my bed now."
Bob
flips him the bird and pushes his middle finger up close to Frank's
face, like almost in his *eye,* but Frank bats his hand away and keeps
pushing at his shoulder. "Come *on,* jump! Fly!"
"Could you not
take your boredom out on me for once?" Bob says, his voice grouchy but
he's engaging with Frank, shoving him back and it turns into kind of a
wrestling match. A really tame wrestling match because the bunk is like
two feet away, so it's mostly them just kind of rolling over on each
other.
Frank could, probably, find something else to take his
mind off boredom that isn't this, but he doesn't know what the point of
that would be when Bob is right here.
At some point Frank ends
up on top and his leg is still sort of sandwiched between Bob's legs,
and when he pushes his knee up he feels--
"Dude. Dude, do you have a boner right now?"
Bob's
expression flickers at that, gets closer to maybe being *actually*
pissed, and he opens his mouth but Frank doesn't actually need him to
answer--it's pretty much obvious. Bob's hands tighten on Frank's
shoulders like he's going to really shove him off the bunk this time,
but Frank moves faster than him and snakes his hand down to cup him and
squeeze.
Whatever Bob was going to say just turns into a gasp.
He pushes into Frank's palm a little, and says "Frankie--the hell--"
but Frank leans in and kisses him fast, running his tongue over Bob's
lip ring (which is something he's wanted to do *forever*).
Bob
kisses back, kind of warm and slow and just nice, his hand coming up to
hug Frank's shoulders and pull him in. Frank wriggles until he's got a
better angle, both legs straddling Bob's thighs, and begins stroking
Bob through his pants in earnest.
"This is really weird," Bob says between kisses, and Frank snickers.
"Yeah,
but like. It's good, right? I mean, you can't deny my mad skills."
Frank manages to actually get his hand inside Bob's pants to jerk him
off, and oh, yeah, that's much better.
Bob thunks his head back
on the cot. "God. You're so--" He bucks up into Frank's hand and moves
one hand down to grip Frank's hip, bringing him in close so that
they're sort of grinding. And that's definitely nice, because Frank's
beginning to get hard himself. It makes the handjob sort of difficult
with what their hips are doing, but Frank manages. He manages pretty
well, in fact, because Bob comes soon with this really nice deep
sighing sound and it gets all over Frank's hand and Frank should
probably find that more gross than he does.
He pulls his hand away and wipes it off on Bob's shirt. Bob makes a horrified face at that, and Frank grins.
And
then he's not grinning anymore, because Bob pulls his hips *in* again
and it hits just the right spot, and hey. Hey, Frank really kind of
needs to get off. He clings to Bob and grinds back, and it doesn't take
long for him to come next.
In his pants, and that *is* gross,
and the bunk is too small for them to really enjoy the post-coital
afterglow without it being uncomfortable, so Frank pokes Bob's shoulder
again. "Dude, floor?"
Bob rolls his eyes and sighs, but complies
when Frank rolls them off the edge of the bunk and onto the floor,
sprawling. Bob's hands never leave his hips.