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14 February 2008 @ 05:01 am
Jeff and Louis: One-Night Thing  
Who: Jeff Chaucer and Louis Wain
Where: A club, Jeff's apartment
When: Recently

Jeff doesn't really prowl. He sits. He drinks. And he observes. Occasionally he joins in the madness of the masses and ventures onto the dance floor, but mostly he comes to the clubs for the drinks and the people watching. The bright lights and loud music are a bonus. He's had several amaretto and cokes already tonight. He can't remember which number the one that he's holding is. He's not completely plastered, but he is admittedly a bit drunk. It had been a long week at the store. He reaches into his glass and pulls out the maraschino cherry, sucking the flavor from it, lips pursed around it a bit and holding the stem. He's leaning on the bar, and there's a good bit of skin showing between his snug novelty t-shirt and his low-waisted brown corduroys. He sways his hips a bit to the music, bopping his head.

Someone slides in next to him without any warning, a streak of electric pink in his platinum blonde hair. His cheeks are flushed from the crowd, and his clothes - too-snug dark jeans and a loud pink t-shirt with wild Japanese graphics on it - are a bit rumpled. He puts his glass down on the bar, halfway on the stool as if he can't bear to sit down, and smiles winningly at the bartender. "You know what I want, beautiful," he says to her, his voice heavily accented - London. The bartender shakes her head at him, and brings him a martini glass of electric blue gin. He stirs it with the bit of pineapple on the end of a toothpick, and then looks over at Jeff beside him, light blue eyes the same sharp color as his drink. He bites the toothpick and slides the pineapple off, lifting a brow at Jeff, his full lips smirking.

Someone slides in next to him without any warning, a streak of electric pink in his platinum blonde hair. His cheeks are flushed from the crowd, and his clothes - too-snug dark jeans and a loud pink t-shirt with wild Japanese graphics on it - are a bit rumpled. He puts his glass down on the bar, halfway on the stool as if he can't bear to sit down, and smiles winningly at the bartender. "You know what I want, beautiful," he says to her, his voice heavily accented - London. The bartender shakes her head at him, and brings him a martini glass of electric blue gin. He stirs it with the bit of pineapple on the end of a toothpick, and then looks over at Jeff beside him, light blue eyes the same sharp color as his drink. He bites the toothpick and slides the pineapple off, lifting a brow at Jeff, his full lips smirking.

Jeff draws the stem of the cherry out of his mouth. He can feel the boy's eyes on him, but he doesn't look over right away. He licks his lips, and then looks over, taking his sweet time about it. He chews. Smiles. His eyes are heavy-lidded, almost drowsy-looking and half-hidden beneath the dark curls that have fallen across his forehead. He pushes them out of the way. "Well hello there."

"Hi," the boy returns, lifting his glass to his lips, the nails of his right hand painted neon orange. He takes a sip of the bright blue liquid, his eyes on Jeff the whole time. He lowers his glass, his eyes following, taking in Jeff entirely. He doesn't try to hide it. His eyes return to Jeff's face, and he tilts his head. "Who are you?"

It's always so interesting to be hit on. Jeff finds it infinitely amusing to engage in these little dances, trying to guess which step comes next. Some people foxtrot. Some waltz. The pretty ones or the entertaining ones he dances with. The others he purposely makes uncomfortable so that they will leave him alone. "Today? I am amaretto and coke and a cherry stem." He holds the stem up. "Though you really shouldn't judge me by it. It's deceptively small." He flicks it away. "You're very bright, aren't you?"

The boy smiles - it's coy, playful, and definitely sexy. He looks from Jeff to the bartender, and leans towards her slightly. "Get the boy another amaretto and coke, beautiful. On my tab." He looks back to Jeff, and takes another drink from his martini glass. "I hope you don't intend to hang out at the bar all night. When are you going to come dance with me?"

Jeff shakes his head solemnly. "It's a mystery." He waves his hand a bit as he says it and gets distracted for a moment by the fact that it doesn't quite feel connected to his body. He looks at the boy again. "Now that you've so kindly bought me another drink, though, it would be terribly rude not to drink it, don't you think?" Definitely pretty. Definitely sexy. And definitely buying him drinks. "But you're doing very well."

"I'm sure Sonya could hold it for you while you take a little break from your amaretto and coke," he says, reaching out to hand the glass that the bartender places on the table back to her. "Just hang on to that for a little while," he says, and then takes Jeff's hand without asking him and starts to pull him towards the mass of dancing people and neon lights, not asking his permission to do so.

This... this might be a tango. Sexy and a bit forceful. Jeff doesn't protest. He lets himself be led onto the dancefloor. He's had a rough week. He deserves to get a little drunk and dance with a very colorful boy on a very colorful dance floor. He smiles, closing his eyes briefly, then opens them again to watch the way the lights shine off of that platinum hair.

The boy moves in close to Jeff when they reach the dance floor, his hands going to Jeff's sides, resting on his waist as he dances close to him. He's a bit drunk himself, but it doesn't make him move any less fluidly, doesn't really impair him in any way. It only makes him looser, and gives him a pretty flush to his cheeks. He's smirking, his light eyes bright under the blacklight above them, his neon colors nearly glowing as he moves his body against Jeff's.

Jeff drapes one arm around Louis's shoulders. He's tall, slender, with long arms and legs, but he doesn't move awkwardly. Being drunk actually helps with that. He closes his eyes again for a moment, his mind focusing on the feeling of the boy's hips rubbing against his and then moving away again. He opens his eyes again, dark irises meeting with Louis's bright blue ones. Pretty, bright boy.

He's not a bashful boy - confident, a bit arrogant even, he seems to take it as a matter-of-course that Jeff wants him close this way. He grins and leans in, his body pressed against Jeff's inch-for-inch, to whisper in his ear. He lets his lips brush Jeff's skin as he does. "What's your name?" he murmurs.

He smells like gin and... something sweet. Like gummi bears. Jeff wonders if he tastes like gin and gummi bears as well. "Jeff," he responds. He doesn't mind the closeness. This boy has passed Jeff's loosely defined tests, whatever they may be. Odd images are swimming through his vaguely drunk mind. Gummi bears being dipped into gin and then stuck together. Two of them. Jeff would be the orange one. "Yours?"

"Louis," he returns, grinning, still speaking against Jeff's ear. His lips close on Jeff's earlobe and he sucks softly and then lets it slip from between his lips, his body shifting away from Jeff's some, teasing. He cuts right to the chase, it's clear.

"Louis," he echoes. He licks his lips. "That was very nice, Louis. The bit with the ear." His arm slides from around Louis' shoulder, wrapping around his back instead. His hand glides down his back, fingers pressing to the small of his back. He pulls his hips close again. "What, exactly, are your intentions with me?"

"My intentions with you?" Louis repeats, smirking a bit wickedly, his arm sliding around Jeff's shoulders, his other hand resting on Jeff's ribs. "Mm. I intend to get you alone and convince you to take your clothes off. Is it going to be very difficult?"

Jeff chews the corner of his lip. "I suspected they were as much." Gummi bears and gin. He wonders if Louis would slide as easily down his throat, and almost asks as much. "Your clothes would have to come off as well, I think."

"Would they?" Louis laughs, his fingers stroking over the back of Jeff's neck, nails grazing skin. "One thing at a time. I haven't even gotten yours off yet."

Jeff pulls back a bit. "You haven't?" He looks down at his clothes as if surprised to see them still there. "Oh, goodness." He looks back up at Louis again. "You were doing so well, too. Maybe you just need to try a little harder."

"Was I?" Louis purrs, laughing again and leaning in close. His hand skims down and sneaks under the hem of Jeff's shirt at his hip, then slides up his chest, running over his ribs. "I'll try harder," he says, practically on a moan, right up against Jeff's ear. "Take me home with you."

Jeff's eyes sink closed. Dear God. Few people have ever hit on him quite this hard, quite this fast. More people should, but he's probably only thinking that because he's a little drunk. He smirks a bit. "If I did, would you still respect me in the morning?"

"No," Louis says, breath hot against Jeff's ear, kissing along the curve of it. "But I never did, so it won't be any different."

It's the perfect answer. Candy-colored non-committal sex with a pretty, perfectly dirty boy who isn't likely to be showing up in Jeff's life again any time soon. His body curves toward Louis'. "Good." He says it quite lightly and draws away, turning around and walking away, headed toward the door. He doesn't think to pull Louis along with him. He just assumes he'll follow. He raises his hand to his ear, touching where Louis had kissed.

Louis does follow, hooking two fingers in the back pocket of Jeff's corduroys so he doesn't lose track of him through the crowd. He's drunk enough that the lights make it hard for him to keep track of anything properly. They make it outside, where the air is biting cold and terribly windy. "Do you live near here?" Louis asks.

Jeff nods. He'd forgotten how cold it was outside. The sweat on his body cools quickly and he gives a little shiver. They pass an alley beside the club and Jeff turns to glance down it when he hears someone moan. There's a boy pressed up against the brick wall, another boy fitting closely behind him. Both of their pants are pulled low on their hips. He stops and stares for a moment until the boy against the wall opens his eyes and looks at him. He narrows his eyes and then turns to Louis. He has a hard time finding him for a moment due to the alcohol in his system, and takes the long way around. "How can they even find their dicks to do anything in this cold?"

"Drugs," Louis explains matter-of-factly, following Jeff with one last glance back at the alley. "I think I went home with that guy last week. Huh."

"Oh?" Jeff isn't offended by it in the slightest. "Which one? It might not have looked like it, but there were, in fact, two men in that alley." He reaches for Louis, catching at his shirt at his side, pulling him close for the sake of warmth. Their hips bump together.

Louis slides his arm around Jeff, staying close, shivering slightly. Goosebumps dot his pale skin. He certainly hadn't brought a jacket. "Both of them," he says, and since his teeth are clattering, its not actually clear if he's joking or not.

Jeff turns at the corner. "Ah." He sort of assumes that Louis isn't joking. "As dick-shrinking a thought it is to be naked in this sort of weather, there's something to be said for the... the... immediacy of it. At least they don't have to go through the walk home. Cools one off a bit." He looks at Louis. "Are you cooling off?"

"Fuck, sweetheart, I'm never cooled off," Louis says, shivering, and then looks over at him and lifts his pale brows. "Why, are you?" As if to insure that Jeff isn't, Louis leans in and starts laying hot open-mouthed kisses over Jeff's neck, sucking softly at the corner of his jaw, body pressed up against Jeff's as he somehow manages to keep walking despite what he's doing.

Jeff's hand goes to the small of Louis' back. "Well I'm not... now." His fingertips slide down the back of Louis' jeans, cold against his warm skin. "I don't think that would be humanly... mm. Possi..." He just sort of trails off, getting lost in the feeling of Louis' mouth against his skin. His eyes sink closed. He keeps walking for a moment and then opens them again, glancing around. "Oh, fuck, we've passed it." He turns, drawing away from Louis' mouth a bit and heading for the building they've just passed.

Louis laughs a bit, staying close to Jeff - he doesn't want to move away and give him a chance to cool off again. He has one arm crossed over Jeff's back, and the other hand goes to his stomach, sliding down and tucking down the front of his pants. He wants to see how distracted he can make Jeff, and his teeth graze Jeff's skin, his lips work along his jaw. He stops at Jeff's ear and moans softly, his fingers inching down the front of his pants, fingertips grazing the waistband of his underwear.

Jeff is trying not to get too distracted again, but something-- a particular kiss to his jaw or the way Louis' fingers brush against his skin-- flicks a switch on in the pit of Jeff's stomach. He closes his eyes again, moaning softly, and tugs at Louis' shirt, pulling him around to face him. He turns his face, finding Louis' mouth. Gin and gummi bears. He sucks on his lips, fingers winding in his shirt, and half-stumbles toward the door of his apartment building.

Louis' lips part, a sweet moan escaping from them, and he stumbles with Jeff towards the door, pawing at his shirt a bit, lifting it up to bare his stomach and moving to take it off of him, pulling it up over his head. "Mmmfuck," he mumbles against Jeff's lips as he kisses him, his nails grazing down Jeff's bare back, scratching lightly to give him shivers.

Through the door of the apartment building, down the hall. Times like these are the only times that he's glad he lives on the first floor. And maybe fires, should one of those ever happen in his building. He catches at Louis' lips, biting at them, sucking, heated. He almost misses his door, but happens to open his eyes just in time. He turns Louis against it, pressing him to the wood, still kissing him. He takes one hand away from his body to dig in his pocket for his keys. It takes him several tries to get the right key in the lock and turn it. He's certainly not cooled off now. The door opens and he falls through it with Louis, grabbing onto him and kicking the door closed behind him. The apartment is dark, lit only by a nightlight near the door.

Louis' full lips curve into a smile against Jeff's, though he never loses the rhythm of the kiss. He lingers over the kiss for a bit longer, and then pulls away. Jeff can't quite see him in the dark apartment, but a moment later, he feels him. Kissing his way down Jeff's stomach, hands on his hips, his mouth stopping to suck under Jeff's navel hungrily.

Jeff's mouth opens a bit, hands sinking into Louis' hair. He makes a soft, catching sound, hips canting toward Louis. He bites his lip. He's torn between reaching for the lights, dragging Louis toward the bedroom, and just leaving things just as they are.

Louis nips softly at Jeff's skin, working open the fastenings of his corduroys, tugging on them a bit blindly and impatiently. He finally gets them open, moaning against his skin, and pulls them down from his hips. His lips frame Jeff through the thin fabric of his underwear, breath hot, his hand rubbing and lips working against him.

"Jeeeesus fucking Christ." Jeff tips his head back, moaning again, fingers tugging lightly on Louis' hair. His hips roll toward him again. "That's... mm."

Louis is addicted to that. To moans, to reactions. It's what makes him love sex so much - hearing someone moan, making it happen, gives him such a thrill. The more vocal the better, as far as he's concerned. His fingers hook in the waistband of Jeff's underwear, sliding them low, though he's having trouble taking his mouth off of him so he can pull them down. He's sucking on him through the fabric like he's starved for it, inching his waistband down slowly.

Jeff takes a step back, leaning back against the door. He keeps his hands in Louis' hair so that his mouth doesn't part with him, making it so that he has to crawl forward just a bit. Jeff's never done this quite like this before. There have been one night stands, but not quite like this. Not this heated, not this aggressive. "Yes," he moans. "God, yes." He squirms a bit. "Take them off. Fuck... oh, Louis."

Louis doesn't want to take his mouth away, but he does, just long enough to ease Jeff's underwear down. He wraps his hand around the base of him, brings his mouth to bare skin and brushes his lips along him, light and teasing. He takes him in his mouth, movements hungry, driving. He's not sloppy, despite how drunk he is - only completely focused on Jeff's reactions, on doing what he seems to like and getting more moans out of him. This is exactly what he had wanted to do, the moment he sat down beside Jeff and noticed him. He wanted - needed to taste him, to hear him.

One of Jeff's hands leaves Louis' hair, arm curving up over his head, nails scratching lightly at the door. He bites his lips and then lets them fall open again, panting softly. He moans, body reactive in spite of the alcohol. He's getting sucked off barely inside his apartment in almost complete darkness. He groans-- louder. "Hot." It's a bit of a gasp. "So fucking hot."

Louis tries not to smile, tries not to break contact. He manages to only hum, keeping Jeff in his mouth, letting it vibrate into him. His hand strokes what his mouth can't reach, though he takes as much of Jeff as he can, tongue sliding over spots that seem to make Jeff react the most. He puts his other hand on Jeff's hip and moans, more vibration, more sensations.

The thought occurs to Jeff suddenly, sort of out of nowhere, that Louis might be a prostitute. An instant later, that thought is followed by another-- he doesn't care if he is. His hand drops back down to his hair again, both hands wound in it. His hips roll toward him, meeting the movements of his mouth. Jeff is occasionally rather blunt about things. More so when there's alcohol involved. Even more so when there's sex involved. So it's only natural when his moan finds words and he says, tugging on Louis' hair again, "Sugar... you want me to come fast, keep going. You want something else to happen... mmm. Jesus. You'd better stop."

Louis doesn't want to stop, but he lets his lips slide off of Jeff. His tongue laps out to touch to the tip of him, and then he pulls his mouth away. "What else do you have in mind?" he asks, a bit throatily, before his tongue glides over Jeff's skin again.

Jeff leans his head back against his door. "Getting you alone and convincing you to take your clothes off. I stole that from what you said before, because... I think you just sucked my brain out." He's panting, a bit breathless. He's aching for release. For more. He jumps a bit when he feels Louis' tongue against him again. His hips move forward as if they have a mind of their own.

Louis is distracted by that for a moment. He doesn't have the biggest attention span. He nuzzles at Jeff, takes him in his mouth and then slides his lips off of him again before he remembers they were sort of having a conversation. "And what will you do with me then?" he asks. It's rather important that he know, before he decides if it's worth missing out on tasting Jeff right now.

Jeff licks his lips, raking his fingers through Louis' hair. "Are you top or bottom?"

Louis hums, as if he's trying to decide. He's never really decided. He'll usually pick whichever one he thinks will please the person he's with more. He's not really sure which one he enjoys more. "It depends. Which are you?"

It would have been better if that hum had happened while his mouth was wrapped around him. "Usually top. But I wouldn't say no to you fucking me raw." He likes that he can be blunt with Louis and not scare him off. He writhes against the door a bit.

Louis smiles a bit. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he can see Jeff now. He rubs his lips over him again, enjoying teasing him, keeping him going. "Is that what you want?" he asks. "Mm. Jeff. Do you want to take me, or do you want me to take you? Pick, or I'm going to keep going until I taste you."

Anything. Everything. Jeff moans at the brush of his mouth, head tipping back, body arching. "Fuck. I can't... you... fuck. Pick... pick a number between one and three."

"Mmm... Three is my favorite number," Louis decides, speaking with his lips against Jeff's skin, mouth working at the place where his thigh meets his hip.

"Mmkay. Bedroom." Though the thought of not having Louis' mouth around him is kind of killing him. "You're on top."

Louis nods, though it takes him a few moments more to pull his lips away from Jeff's skin. He stands up, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist, eyes hazy. It's dark, so he waits for Jeff to lead the way, not wanting to stumble around a stranger's apartment looking for his bedroom.

It takes Jeff a moment to regain his composure and not just push Louis back down on his knees again. He lets out a breath and pulls his underwear and jeans up, not bothering to do them up. He's really wondering now if Louis is a prostitute. He reaches for him, moving from the door. He doesn't take his hand and lead him to the bedroom at first, though. His hands go to the hem of that bright pink shirt, pulling it up and off. He slides his hands down Louis' chest, then turns, walking toward the bedroom, nudging things out of the path in the darkness. He turns on the light when they reach the bedroom. There are huge movie posters on the wall. One wall is covered with autographed photos of celebrities. The room is more or less clean-- a cluttered desk, a few scattered clothes. The bed is a mattress sitting on a wooden palette on the floor with a heap of blankets on it. The room smells faintly of pot. Jeff turns to Louis, walking backwards toward the bed. He slides his jeans down his hips again.

Louis watches him, eyes heavy, a bit drugged. He has a few colorful pins clustered on one of the pockets of his too-tight jeans, and he keeps his eyes on Jeff as he works the fastenings open. Louis actually has a lot of people who ask him if he's a prostitute. He seems too eager to please, too agreeable, going along with whatever the other person wants. Really, he just gets off on getting someone else off. Whatever they want, he wants. He feeds off of them, their moans, their pleasure. It's a powerful, intoxicating thing. For Louis, it's what drives him. He bites his lip, dragging his jeans down from his own hips, moving over to Jeff wearing only a pair of neon blue and pink diagonally striped boxer-briefs. More colors. He hooks his fingers in Jeff's underwear and drags them down, then shoves him towards the bed, pushing him back. "Do you want the light on?" he asks.

Jeff falls back on the bed, crawling backwards on the rumpled blankets. More decisions. He wants to see Louis, but he doesn't want to have to get up and turn the light off after they're finished. He turns, his long body stretching as he reaches to turn on a lamp beside the bed. "Turn them off." He leans back on his elbows, watching Louis.

Louis bites his lip and nods, though watching Jeff stretch makes him want to crawl on top of him touch him, hear him moan again. He flicks off the light, and then goes over to Jeff, crawls onto the bed. He has several tattoos - on his lower back, just barely peeking out of the waistband of his underwear on his right side, there's a bright red heart. He has a black cat tattooed on his side, tail curling around to his back. On the back of his neck, he has six stars in a circle. On his hip, there's a neon orange jack-o-lantern. His belly button is pierced, adorned with a neon-colored barbell. All bright colors. He moves over to Jeff, straddles his hips and tangles his fingers in his hair, and then leans in to kiss him hotly, sucking on his lower lip. "Do you have lube?" he purrs into his mouth, somehow making the very blunt question sound sexy.

If Louis were ice cream, Jeff would eat him far too quickly and get a headache. He's so... technicolor and delicious. Jeff nods, squirming under him. "Drawer." One hand gestures vaguely toward the low drawer beside the bed. There are condoms in there, too, but he trusts Louis to be smart enough to figure that out on his own. He kisses him again. He almost wants to be done with the sex so that he can know how good it was and then go back and go through the process of having it. He's impatient for release, for that fiery-hot glow. He has several tattoos of his own that were invisible in the dark of the entryway, despite the fact that Louis' mouth had landed on one of them a few times. He has a tattoo of a skull and crossbones low on his abdomen, near his left hip. There's another tattoo of the Batman symbol on his right shoulder, a tattoo of the Superman symbol on his left. His thumb slides over the piercing in Louis' navel. His other hand sinks down the back of his underwear, kneading a bit.

Louis moans and grinds down against Jeff's hips. He finds the Batman and Superman tattoos to be absolutely adorable, and he dips his head in and runs his lips over the side of Jeff's neck, sucks at his collarbone before he straightens up and reaches for the drawer that he had indicated before. He pulls it open and fishes out lube and a condom, then pushes Jeff back against the mattress and works his knee between Jeff's thighs, pushing them apart and rubbing against him. He slides his tongue into Jeff's mouth, his hands busy with the bottle of lube, and then brings his fingers to Jeff and pushes them in, slow at first, though not too gentle. He winds his tongue with Jeff's, wanting to taste his moans.

In that, he gets a little satisfaction. Jeff moans, thighs widening as Louis' fingers press into him. He's very rarely on bottom, and every time he is, he tells himself that he should be more often. His hips press up, grinding against Louis' thigh, then sinking back against his fingers. His mouth goes a bit weak against Louis' as he gets lost in the circular sensation of it. No matter how he moves, friction. Pleasure. Then he seems to remember himself. He catches at Louis' tongue, sucking on it. His hand tightens on his backside, pulling his hips down, groping him a bit. His other hand slides up, thumb flicking across his nipple.

Louis moans in response, breathing a bit heavy against Jeff's mouth. He wants him, wants Jeff's pleasure and wants his own. He feels impatient, starved. He wants it now, and he draws his fingers out of Jeff and then pulls his own underwear down from his hips and drops them away from the bed. Louis tears the condom wrapper open with his teeth, climbing fully on top of Jeff and easing his thighs apart further, until Louis' hips are between them. His hands go to the bed on either side of Jeff, and he leans in for his lips as he pushes into him, teeth snagging Jeff's lower lip and tugging.

Jeff arches up off of the bed, body curving. His mouth breaks with Louis' and he lets out a hot breath, one hand dropping to clutch at the blanket, the other raking across the small of his back. His thighs move high on Louis' sides. He mutters something heated, meaningless, laced with profanity, and then finds Louis' mouth again, kissing him hungrily

Louis' eyes sink closed for a long moment. The movements of his hips are rolling and deep - neither fast or slow, rough or easy. It's an intoxicating rhythm, both lingering and driving. He can't stop kissing Jeff, but he wants to hear him, so his mouth moves down Jeff's jaw to feast on his throat, sucking and kissing. Nipping at his pulse point. Louis' body is lithe, moving against Jeff's, and his slick hand finds Jeff, stroking to match his hips.

Jeff can hardly catch his breath. It's perfect-- the feeling of his body stretching around Louis, the echoing feeling of his hand around him. His mouth on his throat, nipping at his skin. He arches again, his dark curls getting tousled against the pillow. He's moaning wordlessly, groaning, gasping in reaction to every movement. He's slick beneath Louis, the cold of the world outside completely forgotten with the heat of their two bodies. He'd been so close before, pushed up against the door, and now everything is combining, weaving together. He won't last long. He holds off for another moment, biting his lip sharply and shuddering a bit under Louis.

"Moan for me," Louis whispers, hot against Jeff's throat. He's turned on enough, has been for so long, that he doesn't think he's going to last very long either. Not as long as he usually would. Everything has been building up from the moment Louis danced against Jeff, and he's so beautifully responsive, moaning and arching. Louis' tongue glides out, tasting the sweat on Jeff's throat, tracing over his adam's apple. "Mmm, Jeff."

Jeff does moan for him. He moans. At the moment that he breaks, time seems to stop. Everything. The turn of the world. And then it all crashes back in on him, making him writhe and gasp and moan, his nails digging into Louis' back unthinkingly. His throat is hoarse with it. He's rarely so vocal, but Louis seems to know how to stroke every one of Jeff's buttons just right.

It's only because he pays attention to them - because that's what he wants, that's what thrills him. He tunes in, notices what works. It comes naturally to him. And when Jeff breaks, he breaks - he can't help it, can't help his body's response to Jeff's tightening, to his moans. He feels it wash over him, the thing he's been starved for - release, finally. He keeps moving through it, strokes Jeff until they're both burning with their aftershocks. Louis pants against Jeff's throat and then pulls away, rolling over. "Mmmph." He pulls off the condom, crawls to the end of the bed to drop it in the trash, and then flops back, shamelessly nude. He stretches out - all pale skin and bright tattoos, lean and compact. He closes his eyes, grinning to himself, pleased.

Jeff's eyes are closed. He's reveling in it. The shivery aftershocks. He takes a deep breath after a moment, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Louis. He's a bit sprawled himself, one hand low on his stomach, his thighs still parted, one leg bent. "You're very... very good at that."

Louis laughs a bit, opening his brightly-colored eyes and looking at Jeff. "Mmm, it's my superpower. Now you know my secret identity, you can never tell a soul."

"Mm." Jeff smiles sleepily. "Don't talk like that, you'll get me started again." He rolls onto his stomach, still sprawled out. His eyes close, then open again very slowly. His eyes are dark, hazy and satisfied. "Are you staying the night?"

"It's too fucking cold out," Louis mumbles, closing his eyes. "And I'm made of jell-o right now," he adds, because he feels like he is, all stretched out and perfectly content.

Jeff studies him, then lifts up a bit, half-crawling over him to switch off the lamp beside the bed, sending the room into darkness. He retracts, settling back onto his stomach again, then changes his mind and lifts up. He leans over Louis, kissing his mouth. Slow. Warm. Not the hungry, starved kisses from before. Not quite. Then he pulls back, tugging the blanket from under Louis and pulling it up over both of them. He settles in, sprawled on his stomach, body lining up with Louis' in a few spots-- his forearm fitting against his arm, his shin touching to the side of his leg. "Night, then."

Louis grins a bit, turning his face towards Jeff's in the dark, and he nods. "Goodnight," he says, though it strikes him as an odd thing to say. It's already been a very good night, in his opinion.

* * *

Louis wakes up fairly late in the morning with a bit if a hangover. He rolls over, groaning, and opens his eyes, narrowing to slits in the morning light. He scratches his hand through his hair and sits up, reaching for his underwear and pulling them on, followed by his jeans. He rubs at his eyes and stumbles around in search of his shirt, tripping over a discarded shoe and letting out an annoyed grunt.

It's the grunt that wakes Jeff up. He sits up a bit, bleary-eyed and a bit disoriented. "What?" He licks his lips, peering around through narrowed eyes until he sees Louis. "Oh." He looks at him for a long moment. Club. Lights. Gummi bears. Good sex. "Hi." His voice is dry, raspy. He rolls over onto his stomach and reaches for the pillow Louis had been sleeping on, cuddling with it. "Leaving?"

Louis looks up, straightening a bit and dropping his hands away from his eyes. He usually scrams as soon as possible. But Jeff looks kind of adorable with his curls, snuggling a pillow. He wants to curl up next to him and ask to be pet. He nods though, scratching his hand through his hair. "Mmm. Probably not as cold out now that the sun's up."

"Mmm." It's a gravelly half-moan, meant to be an agreeing sort of noise. "Prob'ly." It's a little muffled, his cheek squished against his pillow like it is. He's quiet for a moment. Seems to be falling back asleep. He opens one eye and looks at Louis again. "You don't have to."

Louis likes to snuggle. The truth is, it's one of his absolute favorite things, but he doesn't have it very often. He's always bowing out fast, always rolling away from people as if he doesn't want to be near them. "I can't find my shirt," he informs Jeff. He's sort of stopped looking.

Jeff is remarkably snuggly in the morning. At night, it's all sex or sleeping, and he doesn't like anyone in his space while he's sleeping. But morningtime is snuggletime. He sniffles a bit, wrapping both arms around the pillow and burrowing his face it, body shifting as he does a bit of a stretch. He yawns, making a bit of muffled noise as he does-- childish, almost. He settles back in, turning his face away from the pillow to look at Louis. "That's awful." He pulls the other side of the blanket back a bit, leaving room on the bed next to him. Clearly, room for Louis to crawl back in.

Louis tugs his jeans back down his hips, having never bothered to fasten them, and crawls back into bed. Louis leaves clubs with a lot of different people. Some, he's perfectly fine with never seeing again. Others, he feels like he'll miss. It's a sort of rare thing, but Jeff is one of those. Jeff is adorable, and though they didn't do much talking, Louis is more fond of him than he usually is of the men he sleeps with. He slides under the blankets, moving a little close to Jeff, though he doesn't go through with curling up and telling Jeff to pet him. "I've heard lots of people say that you have to either pick Batman or Superman as a favorite," Louis informs him.

Jeff throws the blanket back over him, pushing the pillow out of his arms toward the top of the bed. He reaches for Louis instead without asking him, much like Louis had pulled him onto the dance floor the night before. He pulls him toward him sliding an arm over his stomach and winding one leg with his. He rests his forehead against his cheek. "That is because those people are filthy liars."

Louis smirks, closing his eyes and snuggling in, cozying up close to Jeff. "I always had a feeling about them," he says. He grazes his nails lightly over one of the tattoos, tangled up pleasantly with Jeff. "I shouldn't stay for long. You've got me for a few more minutes," Louis says.

"Mm. Whatever else you have planned, you can't manage it today. You're very clearly hungover and in no condition to go anywhere until you've had a good snuggle and possibly slept a little longer and eaten some Eggos. I'm a doctor. I know these things." His thumb strokes along Louis' lowest rib.

"Oh, are you?" Louis laughs, nuzzling in until he can press warm kisses along the line of Jeff's shoulder. "These are some fancy digs you've got, doctor. When did they start paying doctors minimum wage?"

Jeff laughs softly, shifting against Louis. "Well, I'm not a medical doctor, exactly. More... a doctor of English Literature. But I'm still a doctor and you should respect my authority. And my fancy digs."

"I thought I explained to you already my lack of respect for you," Louis says, his voice sleepy, thick with his accent. "Hasn't changed. And now I know what you look like naked."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that. The respect part, not the naked part. Since I'm still naked." He laughs a bit, one hand moving up to slide through the hair at the nape of Louis' neck. Soft hair. And such a nice accent. Like a blanket.

"You are," Louis says, his fingertips tracing over Jeff's bare hip, just because he can. "Mmm... where did you get all those autographs? Do you know a lot of movie stars? Have you got some kind of secret glamorous life you're not telling me about?"

Jeff smiles. His eyes are still closed, but he doesn't need to look at his wall to know who's up there. His thumb strokes against Louis' skin. People don't usually ask him questions or chat with him. Not the one-night stands, anyway. "It's the glamorous life of a doctor of English Literature." He nudges his shoulder toward Louis-- the one that he'd been kissing before and had for some insane reason stopped kissing. "Some I met at parties or premiers or just randomly. Others I sent mail to."

"You must be a very charming letter-writer. They probably get a lot of mail," Louis says, before his lips return to Jeff's skin, his mouth warm and soft. "I wonder if Sonya is still holding your drink."

"God, I hope so. It's no use getting a free drink if I didn't even get to drink it." He makes a pleased sound at the feeling of Louis' mouth on his skin. Both arms slide around him now, pulling him even closer. His fingers curl against his back.

"You definitely didn't need another drink," Louis says, mouth against the base of Jeff's neck, following his collarbone. "Besides, I'm better than amaretto and coke."

Jeff grins and shifts, pulling away from Louis just enough to slide down and meet his mouth with his, teeth grazing his upper lip before he fits his full lips to Louis'.

Louis returns the kiss, slow and indulgent, letting it linger for a long time before he pulls his lips away, opening his eyes, hazy and blue. "I should go," he says softly. He's already too fond of Jeff. Already might not turn him down if he asks to see him again. And that's when things get messy and bad. It was a good night, and it's best to leave it that way.

Jeff's brow furrows. He makes an adorably grumpy face. "You haven't had your Eggos. This is against doctor's advice, you know." He doesn't want him to go. He'd cozy with him. Louis good to snuggle, and he's a fantastic kisser and, from what he remembers, a really really good lay. And he's cute. And he's actually sort of making smalltalk with Jeff and Jeff doesn't want to punch him in the face, which says a lot.

Louis smirks, and brings his lips in to kiss Jeff again, slow and warm. He thinks about maybe sucking him off before he goes. It suddenly seems like a very good idea. He rolls, taking Jeff with him, until he's sitting up on Jeff's stomach, a knee on either side of him. He drags his blunt nails down Jeff's chest, letting the light scratches give him goosebumps. "I like a different kind of breakfast," he purrs.

Jeff smiles slowly, squirming beneath him, and arches an eyebrow. "Oh?" Well, now. He certainly won't complain about this turn of events. "And what kind of breakfast would that be? Eggs Benedict? Hash browns?"

Louis bites his lip, eyes following his nails as he drags them down Jeff's chest like a cat to a scratching post. He scoots lower, until he straddles Jeff's hips, and rocks down against him. "Mm-mm. The true breakfast of champions," he says, curling in and closing his mouth over Jeff's nipple, tongue flicking against it.

Jeff bites his lower lip, eyes closing for a moment. His hips press up against Louis, hands going to his hip. He takes a deep breath, body arching closer to his mouth. "Mmm." His lower lip slides free, flushed and full.

Pretty pretty boy. Louis loves his reactions - all so perfect, building upon themselves. He's kissing his way down, taking his time about it. Lingering, laying sucking kisses over Jeff's skin. He stops at the skull and crossbones, sliding his tongue over it and nipping at it before he keeps moving down, until he's sitting between Jeff's knees and his mouth is against the base of him, lips brushing and teasing until he finally takes him in his mouth. He might have been drunk the night before, but he still remembers Jeff's sweet spots, and his tongue seeks them out.

Jeff tips his head back with a soft moan, hips pressing up toward Louis' mouth. His hands move down, sinking into his hair, combing through it, scratching softly at his scalp. His legs shift aside, offering plenty of room to Louis, leaving Jeff prone to him. "God... That mouth." Jeff remembers from the night before-- how fast he'd pushed him, how perfect he was. Louis' tongue glides against a particularly nice spot and Jeff moans again-- louder this time.

Louis likes him. He's wonderful - addictive, responsive, and so very beautiful. Louis wants him, wants to taste him, to push him to the edge and feel him break and know that it was his doing. His mouth is hungry, his nails grazing up the inside of Jeff's thigh, his fingertips traveling up and finding new places to touch, more sensations to add. He moans with Jeff in his mouth, vibration, the sound humming into his skin.

It makes Jeff shiver faintly, his feet sliding against the sheet as if trying to find his footing. Trying to keep from falling. He's panting softly, mixed in with faintly animal moans. He bites his lips, tipping his head back, fingers curling in Louis' hair. One hand leaves his hair, curving up, fingers gripping to pillow beside Jeff's face. His hips are rolling, responsive. He's close.

Louis's fingers stroke over Jeff's hip, then back down, moving between his thighs. He wants so badly to know what he tastes like, wants to hear his voice when he breaks again. He's completely driven, shoving Jeff towards his break, seeking out all the perfect spots, his pace building, scalding hot and relentless. He's not patient for it.

A rough shove and a sweet fall. Jeff breaks, body arching, fingers tightening almost painfully in Louis' hair. He moans, unheeding and uncaring of whether the neighbors can hear him. His hips rise again and again under Louis. He's mindless with it, swept up in the rush.

Louis doesn't stop, not until Jeff is drained, not until his release has passed. He slides Jeff from his lips, kisses along the line of his hip as if starved for more. He is. He'd have him again right now if he could. He looks up to Jeff's face, licking his lips, smirking and indulged.

Jeff's eyes are closed, his cheeks flushed, chest heaving a bit. He stretches his legs out, moaning gently, arching his back, and then opens his eyes, looking down at Louis. He touches his cheek, smiling, and then brushes something from the corner of his flushed mouth with his thumb. "Mmm. No brain." He laughs softly, a bit throaty, and reaches down, sliding his hand around Louis' upper arm and pulling up gently. "C'mere."

Louis moves up, feeling extremely pleased, laying half on top of Jeff, bare skin on bare skin. He nuzzles at Jeff's neck, sweetly affectionate, tangling a hand in Jeff's unruly curls. "You taste so good," he purrs, lips against Jeff's throat. "Mmm. Jeff."

One of Jeff's arms is beneath Louis, curved around him. His hand slides down his shoulder blade, down his side. It fits over the curve of his backside, and he turns, rolling on top of Louis. One thigh is pressed between his. He finds his mouth. Kisses him, slow and hungry, mouth parted against his.

Louis purrs into Jeff's mouth, arching up, pressing to Jeff's body, his hips rolling against Jeff's thigh. He should have left ages ago. He knows he should have. But he's still here, his arms tangling around Jeff's shoulders. Kissing him. He can't seem to stop. He drags his fingers through Jeff's curls and slides his tongue against Jeff's. He'll go in a few minutes, he tells himself. He'll leave. He'll give Jeff a fake number if he asks. It's all for Jeff's own good. It would be selfish to stay. He sucks on Jeff's lower lip, moaning softly.

Jeff's hand slides down Louis' chest, down his side. He touches his hip, and then lets his fingers glide down to his thigh, fingers sliding under it, pulling it up over his hip. His thigh presses down against him. He pulls his lip free and kisses Louis again, biting softly at his lower lips, gliding his tongue into his mouth.

Louis' body is reacting on its own - arching up, pressing against Jeff's thigh, seeking friction. He desperately wants to stay in control of himself, to remember that its better if he hits the road, but his leg wraps around Jeff and he makes a slightly helpless sound against Jeff's mouth, his heart hammering against his ribs. His fingers stroke over the back of Jeff's neck, then trace down his spine. His hips are moving, grinding against Jeff, and he slides one of his hands down to hook into the waistband of his own underwear, about to pull them off before he seems to reconsider, panting slightly. He mumbles against Jeff's lips, though it's mostly inaudible. "I should go."

"No you shouldn't," Jeff whispers back. His hand moves to the waistband of Louis' bright boxer-briefs, fingers hooking in and tugging them down. He's impatient with it, only pulling them down partway, kissing Louis again. He can't get enough of that mouth. His thigh grinds against him, against bare skin, and then moves away, replaced by his hand, fingers wrapping around him and stroking.

Louis' head tips back and he moans, low and warm, his hips moving up towards Jeff's hand. He should go. He's positive that he should. That the longer he stays and kisses Jeff, the more complicated this is going to get. But the idea of pulling away now is absurd. He grips to Jeff, one hand in his curls, and pulls Jeff's mouth to his throat, tilting his neck to him. He wants Jeff to leave marks. He wants to remember him.

Jeff's lips part against Louis' throat, leaving warm, sucking kisses there. His tongue laps at his skin, echoing the movement of his hand. He probably shouldn't leave marks. People don't always like marks. But he's really not thinking. His mouth fits to his throat and his throat works against it, sucking, leaving a sweet, sharp, stinging mark there. His hand moves faster. Heavier movements.

"Yes," Louis whispers, breath heavy and panting. "God, yes, Jeff..." He swallows, his chin tilting back more, more space for Jeff's mouth. Its the feel of that mark, the feeling of Jeff's lips working against his skin, that pushes him over the edge. He's breathing Jeff's name, moaning quiet words of approval as it crashes over him, his body arching, writhing, rocking towards Jeff's hand. "Fuck, yes..." His nails graze Jeff's skin, one hand tangled in his hair, his head tipped back and back arched.

Jeff's hand doesn't still against him until he's finished. Until Louis is panting and quiet beneath him. Then his hand leaves him, smoothing over his hip. His tongue slides against the marks that he left on his throat-- three faint bruises blossoming there. He nuzzles his jaw, smiling.

Louis' eyes are closed, his body pleasantly heavy, humming with pleasure. He swallows and turns his face towards Jeff's, catching his lips. His leg slides down from Jeff's hip. He sighs into Jeff's mouth, arching again, having slipped into that indulged state again, practically purring. "Mmm... I like you," he murmurs.

Jeff catches at his lips softly and smiles. "I like you, too." He bites his upper lip gently. He wants him to stay. He's willing him to stay. But even if this is a one night stand, even if he walks away, it's certainly the best he's ever had.

Louis wants to have Jeff every way he knows. Wants to fuck him, be fucked by him. Taste him again and again. Hear his beautiful reactions and to react to him himself. There are so many beautiful scenarios racing through his mind, but he pushes gently at Jeff's shoulder. "And I really have to go."

Jeff heaves a sigh and makes a very unhappy noise, then rolls off of Louis reluctantly. He curls up next to him, eyes open, watching him. He's very clearly pouting.

Louis sits up, pulling his underwear back up. If only Jeff wouldn't pout at him like that. It's for his own good, after all. He has no idea what he could be getting himself into. Louis looks over at him, and then leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a long moment. "Maybe we'll run into each other again some day," he murmurs. But even if they do, Louis won't be able to go home with Jeff again. It's a rule he has.

Jeff leans up, keeping contact with his mouth for another moment. Maybe. "We should. You should run into me again. Soon," he murmurs back. But Louis is leaving. That's how one-night things go. They last one night. And one morning in their case. He sinks back on the pillow, still watching Louis.

"Mm." Louis makes a noise that sounds rather uninterested. He reaches for his jeans and pulls them on, and then finds his bright pink t-shirt under Jeff's discarded jeans. It would be nice to see Jeff again. But totally against the rules. He fastens his jeans and stuffs his feet into his metallic gold high-top sneakers with rainbow laces. "Where's the closest subway stop to here?"

He really is leaving. "About four blocks south of here." Jeff watches him for another moment, then turns away, rolling off of the bed. His hair is tousled, unruly, curls tumbling every which way. He reaches for some old pajama bottoms and pulls them on and then gets to his feet. He doesn't look at Louis as he weaves around discarded clothes, moving out into the main area of the apartment to let him out.

Louis follows, checking to make sure his wallet is in his back pocket. He's left it behind before, and due to the rules, had left it there. He's very strict about the rules. "Alright. See you around," Louis says, but he sounds like he doesn't mean it, and he leans in to press a kiss to Jeff's cheek as he heads through the doorway.

It's bullshit. Jeff knows it is. He'd said that he likes Jeff, and maybe he does, but not enough to stay. Not enough to mean it. "Yeah." He clears his throat softly and glances up at Louis as he walks down the hall. He chews his lip. "See you around," he echoes.

Louis turns back as he heads down the hall, looks at Jeff over his shoulder, and gives him a coy little grin as he does. Back on his game. Jeff got under his skin, it was a close call. But he opens the door and moves outside, into the cold air in only his t-shirt, and feels like he can put it behind him. He'll probably never see Jeff again, anyway.