Series: The Best Moves
Disclaimer: Wholly original work.
Summary: ...Tracey's fantasies.
Notes: Just a quickie from Smut Month...
Pain and pleasure looked too much alike to Tracey and yet again he couldn't tell if he was hurting Timothy or not. But the way Timothy pushed back quite suddenly against his fingers certainly helped explain without words. Tracey knew that if he moved a bit more, Timothy would do the rest, guiding him to a spot worth lingering in, teasing until Timothy looked even more like an ethereal creature reaching out for his soul.
Timothy's cries echoed off the strange decor of his room, things lingering from teenage angst not long-forgotten. Tracey couldn't imagine Timothy ever actually growing up. Not that he could imagine himself doing that, either.
Keeping fingers deep in Timothy's body, sliding shallowly to keep him moaning, Tracey reached to stroke his own erection, already quite hard just from the briefest bit of foreplay they'd bothered with. Not knowing when Charlie would get home, they were trying to milk the moment for what they could.
Charlie... probably already knew her brother was ridiculously loud in bed if only by his own admittance. There was a Keeping Still poster tacked on the wall above Timothy's bed leaving Johnny Danger to leer over them both each time they ended up there. And Tracey would certainly never admit that half the time when Timothy probably didn't think he was watching anything, he was watching Johnny and suddenly racing towards orgasm.
He wanted Johnny. Timothy wanted to be Johnny. It worked.
Tracey wondered if maybe it would be okay to call Timothy 'Johnny'. He certainly wasn't going to try it at random though and wait for Timothy's reacting. He'd have to ask.
"Fuck me," Timothy instructed or moaned or something that was both vulgar and sexy coming from the mouth of the most girlish and yet wicked creature he'd ever laid eyes upon.
He complied without words, slipping a condom on to his erection with what he also was chalking up to practiced ease before thrusting fully into Timothy's body and resting there. Making sure Timothy had his eyes shut, Tracey glanced up at Johnny. Just for a second, but long enough that he had to move.
Timothy was flexible enough that they could kiss, the act doing double-duty to muffle Timothy's cries and also add stimulation to the ride they were both barreling along on.
Wondering if he was ever someone else in Timothy's mind, Tracey kept thrusting, losing himself in the heat of Timothy's willing body. Timothy's hands knit themselves together at his back, keeping Tracey close, feeling the hardness of Timothy's erection between their stomachs. He kept his mouth against Timothy's, kisses streaming together until finally Timothy broke away in a cry punctuated by heat against Tracey's stomach.
Tracey glanced up at Johnny. Timothy was wearing an exact duplicate of the necklace Johnny was wearing on the poster.
He wanted to claim his own climax was triggered by Timothy's. But he already knew he was good at lying to himself.
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