Ahizelm's Gift

AN: Wut, I'm writing slash? Who knew? ;) These are for you, Nae. The pairing and prompts came from SorceressCirce, who also beta'd this all quick like and left funny comments for me.


Enjoy!

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Glissando:

Rapid scale passage produced by sliding over keys or strings, usually performed with the fingers. e.g. piano, harp, violin, trombone

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+grass+

The venue is quaint. I’m sitting atop a small hill, watching the stage. The set has moved from electric to acoustic, and my eyes are closed as I inhale deeply. My finger and thumb are still at my lips when I hear a kind voice.

“Mind if I take a hit?”

I look over to see vibrant blue eyes peering at me, and notice his jaw. It’s chiseled, almost like it’s made of glass, and his unkempt blond hair hangs in uneven strands, framing his face.

“No, man, go right ahead,” I say.

Mystery man grins and takes my joint.

+smoke+

“I’m Garrett,” he says.

I nod, grinning through the haze of smoke surrounding him. “Jasper.”

Garrett passes the joint back to me, smiling lazily. “Good band,” he says.

I shrug. “They’re alright.”

He leans back, balancing on his elbows, and I take in the narrowness of his waist, the way he leers at the band, analyzing every note they play. “I like the bass player,” he says, randomly.

“The bass line is pretty great,” I agree.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a smirk. His eyes roam my face and torso, stopping briefly at my waist.

I chuckle.

+gritty+

The singer is a few minutes into a break when a gust of wind blows through the venue, stirring up dust and debris across the grounds. Garrett makes a face and mumbles something about the dirt somehow getting in his mouth, and suggests that we go to the bar to get a drink. “On me,” he says.

“I could use a whiskey,” I answer, moving to stand.

He grins. “Good man.”

“I like to think so,” I retort.

His eyes are hooded for a moment.

I follow him to the bar, wondering all the while what he looks like naked.

+slide+

Garrett orders two whiskeys, neat, and as we’re waiting for the bartender to bring them over to us, he slides a twenty across the counter before me, leaving a generous tip. “That’s nice of you,” I remark.

He presses closer, moving to his right, toward the bar, and his hips glide along mine. I feel him; he is warm, his chest well-formed, his body rock hard.

“I do what I can,” he says into my ear, his breath heating and cooling my skin all at once.

I purposefully graze his crotch when I reach for my tumbler from the bartender.

+tenor+

We move through the crowd, seeking out a quiet place to stand and watch the band, whose singer has returned. Garrett begins to sing along, his voice smooth and even, and I watch him for a moment, the muscles in his jaw and arms moving smoothly as he sways and sings.

I lick my lips as he looks me in the eye, my own gaze hooded as I say, “I play bass, you know.”

Garrett turns to me. “Is that so?” I nod. “You should show me sometime.”

His eyes fall to my waist again. His double meaning is clear.

+join+

“I could show you right now,” I say. My words hang in the air between us, heavy, dripping with sex and wanton desire.

He downs the rest of his whiskey and steps closer to me, his lips brushing my earlobe as he whispers, “You could?”

I can’t help but quirk a smile as I turn to him, my mouth mere centimeters from his. “I will.”

Garrett’s eyes flit to my lips, He purses his own as his blue eyes search mine for half a second.

“You will,” he affirms with a crooked smirk. We slip away, leaving the concert quietly.

+whiskey+

We’re standing behind the venue, the bass drum’s regular thumping vibrating along my back as I lean against a wall, and Garrett’s hands are roving my body, beneath my shirt and into the waist of my jeans as our tongues dance back and forth. He tastes of whiskey and sweetness, sexy and heavy, and when he kneels before me, I don’t stop him.

My dick is in the heaven that is his mouth and instantly, I thread my fingers through his hair, adjusting his rhythm as he takes me deeply, humming around my cock as his fingertips grip my thighs.

+relief+

I feel him swallow around my head as I come and groan out his name. “God, come here,” I command, and he smirks up at me after tucking me back into my pants. “Fucking hell, let me give you something.”

He runs his tongue along my bottom lip. I capture it before making quick work of his button fly. I grin against his mouth when I realize he’s gone commando, and I only pull away from his kiss to look at his beautiful, pierced cock.

I make him come so hard that he bites my shoulder through my t-shirt, breathless.

+string+

We whisper ‘thank you’ to one another, an air of absolute relaxation surrounding us. As we approach the gates of the venue again, he says, “Give me your phone.” I do, and then he enters his number into it and calls himself.

“Fucking electronic leashes,” I say with a smile.

He grins. “Yep. But you owe me a blow job, I owe you a hand job, and I think I might actually like your company otherwise.”

I grin, enjoying his sarcasm, and ask him out to dinner for next Friday. After he agrees, we step back into the concert together.

+flicker+

My mind is like the light show the band utilizes, memories and thoughts flashing through it as the music continues. I see Garrett’s mouth on me; I feel his cock in my hand, hard perfection. I imagine the metal there on my tongue, his fingers and palm making me come.

I imagine fucking him. Roughly. Gently. Reverse Cowboy. In the shower.

I imagine him doing the same to me.

I’m hard as a rock again, and I look at him. He smiles before brushing my hand with his fingers.

I could actually enjoy his company, too.

I’m already planning Friday.

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