Another damn newbie here dropping in to say hello. My name is Cris but call me Fortune Cookie. I've been writing since the age of 11 and into slash since around 13 years of age. My favorite bands include Alkaline Trio, Taking Back Sunday, Something Corporate, Rooney, Belle and Sebastian, Radiohead, and of course Good Charlotte. Um, I'm not "punk". Labels are for ketchup bottles and I just like having a good taste in music. If you want to add me, go ahead. I need friends. =(
Title: I Like You Better when I'm Dreaming.
Rating: NC - 17. Oops. :[
Summary: This seriously sucks and I don't like it, but here you go. Benji/Joel, Benji dreams and Joel acts like a fool.
Disclaimer: They own themselves and I own this fic.
"How do you like it?" He hisses in my ear, breath hitting the back of my neck and traveling through to the base of my spine.
"You know how." I can't breath, you're too close and all I can feel is the thudding of my heart. Everywhere, thudding in my skin and heating up my face and the blood rushes to my head making me dizzy.
"Tell me again." That's you pressing into the small of my back, that's your hands sliding down to my crotch and stroking me. I keep thinking that but it never fully registers, never getting it through my head.
"You on top, your hands on either sides of my legs as you bounce slowly on my cock." I say it quickly, embarrassed, ashamed, why the fuck do I have to be so shy? I shouldn't have to choke on these words. It's so hard to say anything with your hand right there and your body so close... so fucking close.
"Mmm, and where are your hands?" You are sin, Joel Madden. Absolute sin to be putting me through this torture and I hope you know I will get you back for this... one your hand leaves my cock that is.
"On your hips, gripping so tight you know they'll bruise." I throw my head back and it hits your shoulder, the world goes black as I keep my eyes tightly shut. I can see it, see you right there on top of me with the same expression I have now on my face. Your hips connecting to mine and your fingers scrambling for something to hold onto while I fuck you senseless. Each slam connecting with your prostate and the glide out of your body has you trembling, the sweat pouring off
...your body." And who knew I was speaking, but it's all coming off my tongue so easily. I'm rambling, babbling, but to you it must make sense. You always understand these words. "Please..."
"Please what, Ben?" Your hands are so hot I can feel them burning through my dickies yet you don't put them inside my pants. All I get is the dissatisfaction of grinding against your hand and this tight fabric. "What do you want, baby? Do you want me right here? Right now? All you have to do is say the words."
I can't say it, I can't beg. My voice is lost in a sea of lust and the only thing I can say is "Oh god...fuck... more..."
"Anything for you big brother. Anything." You grab me by my hips and twirl me around. Shoving me down onto the bed you crawl over me and press your lips to mine. Kissing you is kissing death, but I can never say no to the Reaper. I press my tongue to your lips and find you opening your lips readily. The air is filled with the sounds of smacking lips and wet sucking sounds, and my hands are dragging you slowly up and down on my body. Hips connecting over and over seeking out as much friction as possible.
Right there, fuck right there, keep that up and I'll... I'll...
"BENJI WAKE THE FAKE UP!" I bolt up right just as you smack me in the head. Jesus, another dream.
"Ow! I'm up, christ could you be any more abusive, Madden?" Grumbling the words as I stretch out. Scowling at you through heavy lidded eyes I see you're grinning but don't return the smile. I can't when I wake up from something so hideous that it leaves the pit of my stomach burning and my cock aching.
"I could be. You're just lucky I'm a nice enough guy. If I wanted to be mean I would have thrown a bucket of ice on that nice little boner you have going, bro." With that said, you pat my leg gently and leave the room without another word.