FILL - Turn Of A Screw, Brian/Justin, R (will most likely get NC-17), [Part 3a/?]
Brian's voice is impossibly close to his ear and Justin gives a start. This time he hits the back of his head against the hood.
"Easy there." Brian barely veils his amusement.
Justin rubs the spot in the back of his skull, frowning irritatedly. He closes the hood again, carefully avoiding his head. "And for what it's worth, you'll need new tires in winter."
"Anything else?" There's a touch of annoyance in Brian's voice.
"Hey, if you want to end up in a ditch because you're driving slicks on an icy road, be my guest."
"Yes, mom."
Justin has to grin at that. Now that the pain has lessened, he is acutely aware of how close Brian is to him. Or has he gotten closer? He feels heat rush into his face again. His cock is still half hard but thankfully, his baggy coveralls do their name justice.
"So... Justin the mechanic...," Brian breaches the gap between them, pushing Justin back against the car, "is there anything else that needs... fixing?" He puts an odd little emphasis on the last word that goes straight to Justin's cock.
"Are you coming on to me?" Justin blurts lamely.
"What does it look like?" Brian's knee inches its way between Justin's thighs.
Justin swallows, unsure if his vocal chord will cooperate at all. "How did you know I'm..."
As an answer, Brian's hand closes over Justin's cock, giving it a little squeeze. "Unless you get hard from talking about carburetors..."
Before Justin can answer, Brian is onto him, one arm snaked around his waist to pull him flush against his body. The kiss bruising and demanding, and it makes Justin's head spin. He isn't exactly inexperienced but this... this is something else. This leaves him breathless and hungry for more.
Justin lands on the hood of the 'vette and on any day, the car afficionado in him would have cringed. Tonight, though, he really doesn't care. Tonight, he grabs Brian by the lapels of his coat and pulls him on top of him. One of his legs wraps around the taller man's waist, bringing him even closer. He feels Brian's hard cock through the layers of clothing between them.
Brian rolls his hips against Justin's, pinning him to the hood of the car. One hand finds Justin's hair while the other pulls down the zipper of the mechanic's coveralls. He pushes past Justin's oil-stained t-shirt and the waistband of his boxers, and Justin hisses against Brian's mouth as his fingers close around Justin's cock.
Frantically searching for contact, Justin tugs the designer shirt out of Brian's pants, his fingers finding warm skin. But it's not enough, he wants more. Right here, right now. He has never done anything like this before, and it's deliciously enticing and arousing.
Brian pulls him back to his feet again, and pushes the coveralls off his shoulders. There's a bit an awkward struggle until the piece of clothing finally pools around Justin's feet. For the first since Justin started working at Charlie's shop, he curses his work attire. It's just not suitable for a quickie on the hood of a classic car.
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Brian's voice is impossibly close to his ear and Justin gives a start. This time he hits the back of his head against the hood.
"Easy there." Brian barely veils his amusement.
Justin rubs the spot in the back of his skull, frowning irritatedly. He closes the hood again, carefully avoiding his head. "And for what it's worth, you'll need new tires in winter."
"Anything else?" There's a touch of annoyance in Brian's voice.
"Hey, if you want to end up in a ditch because you're driving slicks on an icy road, be my guest."
"Yes, mom."
Justin has to grin at that. Now that the pain has lessened, he is acutely aware of how close Brian is to him. Or has he gotten closer? He feels heat rush into his face again. His cock is still half hard but thankfully, his baggy coveralls do their name justice.
"So... Justin the mechanic...," Brian breaches the gap between them, pushing Justin back against the car, "is there anything else that needs... fixing?" He puts an odd little emphasis on the last word that goes straight to Justin's cock.
"Are you coming on to me?" Justin blurts lamely.
"What does it look like?" Brian's knee inches its way between Justin's thighs.
Justin swallows, unsure if his vocal chord will cooperate at all. "How did you know I'm..."
As an answer, Brian's hand closes over Justin's cock, giving it a little squeeze. "Unless you get hard from talking about carburetors..."
Before Justin can answer, Brian is onto him, one arm snaked around his waist to pull him flush against his body. The kiss bruising and demanding, and it makes Justin's head spin. He isn't exactly inexperienced but this... this is something else. This leaves him breathless and hungry for more.
Justin lands on the hood of the 'vette and on any day, the car afficionado in him would have cringed. Tonight, though, he really doesn't care. Tonight, he grabs Brian by the lapels of his coat and pulls him on top of him. One of his legs wraps around the taller man's waist, bringing him even closer. He feels Brian's hard cock through the layers of clothing between them.
Brian rolls his hips against Justin's, pinning him to the hood of the car. One hand finds Justin's hair while the other pulls down the zipper of the mechanic's coveralls. He pushes past Justin's oil-stained t-shirt and the waistband of his boxers, and Justin hisses against Brian's mouth as his fingers close around Justin's cock.
Frantically searching for contact, Justin tugs the designer shirt out of Brian's pants, his fingers finding warm skin. But it's not enough, he wants more. Right here, right now. He has never done anything like this before, and it's deliciously enticing and arousing.
Brian pulls him back to his feet again, and pushes the coveralls off his shoulders. There's a bit an awkward struggle until the piece of clothing finally pools around Justin's feet. For the first since Justin started working at Charlie's shop, he curses his work attire. It's just not suitable for a quickie on the hood of a classic car.