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Tru Luv Fanfiction |
Golden God
by: Laura Smith
Drunk.
Pacey smiled and tilted his head back, spreading his arms out to his sides. He was spectacularly drunk. He stumbled backwards, bumping into the kitchen counter.
"You okay, Pace?" Jack stood in the kitchen doorway, his boxers barely clinging to his hips. One hand shoved his hair back out of his face as the other scratched his ass.
"I am drunk, Jack, my boy. I have slipped beyond the realm of okay and am verging on God-like."
"Mmm-hmm." Jack sniffed and yawned, sinking down onto one of the chairs that flanked their kitchen table. "And what precipitated this rise to deity?"
"Don't know about precipitation, but it was raining whiskey in my mustang." He hoisted himself onto the counter and smiled at Jack, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel's off the top of the fridge. Opening it, he took a healthy swig.
"You don't think you've had enough?"
"Not quite yet." Pacey took another drink. "Like I said, I'm just scaling Mount Olympus, I haven't quite reached the top."
Jack cocked an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, will you be the god of?"
"Sex." Pacey slid off the counter and took another drink. "Pure, unadulterated, dirty sex. Fucking. Screwing. Boot-knocking. Hip slamming. Mind-blowing sex."
"Oh?" Jack laughed. "And what do you think makes you the god of sex?"
"Not only have I alone fucked more people than any of the rest of our Capeside group…"
"Except Jen…"
"Do not doubt me," Pacey admonished. "You don't want to incur my wrath."
"Right," Jack nodded sagely, trying not to laugh.
"As I was saying, I've fucked more than the rest of the gang. And, I am spectacularly drunk."
"So you're the god of sex."
"That's right."
"Heterosexual sex, obviously."
Pacey's eyebrow shot up. "Hmm. You're probably right there. Fuck." Pacey sank onto the other chair, grabbing Jack's outstretched hand as the uneven legs sent it tipping backwards.
"Chair's not quite stable, Pacey."
"How many guys have you fucked?"
"What?"
"Well, I know the closest Dawson's going to get to gay sex is jerking off at the prospect of a new Spielberg movie. Joey's too fucking uptight to admit she wants straight sex, so I know there's no way she's going to run off experimenting. Jen told me she's only been with one girl…"
"She told you that?"
"We were trying to have sex. She thought it'd help."
"Did it?"
"So," Pacey ignored the question. "That leaves you. I know you were doin' the deed with Tobey, I just need to know how many other guys there were, so I know how many I'll need to screw to rightfully claim my place as the god of sex."
Jack shook his head and stood up. "Night, Pace."
"Night?" Pacey's tongue traced the rim of the whiskey bottle. "We're having a serious discussion here."
"No," Jack informed him. "We're having a drunken conversation."
Pacey's gaze traveled down Jack's bare chest to the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his tented boxers. "Doesn't mean I'm not serious."
"Whatever, Pace." Jack shook his head and turned around, headed for his bedroom. "See you tomorrow."
Jack closed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. The look in Pacey's eyes had sent a frisson of desire down his spine, jolting his cock to raging arousal. Turning on his back, he opened his eyes in an effort to stop seeing the heated gaze. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, trying to think of anything to focus his mind on, something other than sex and Pacey's low, sexy drawl.
He wasn't going to masturbate and think about Pacey. He'd decided before they moved in together that the only way it would work was to make Pacey completely off limits. Even in his imagination.
"The god of sex."
Jack bit back his moan as Pacey's self-assured statement flashed through his mind, followed quickly by the sight of his legs spread as he'd sat on the counter, his tongue sliding easily around the rim of the bottle. His resolve broke as he slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers and grasped his cock.
"Did I turn you on?"
Jack froze, his eyes darting to his bedroom door, the faint light from the bathroom across the hall silhouetting Pacey's body. He let his gaze drift down Pacey's bare chest, over his flat, brown nipples to the thin spattering of hair to his…
Jack moaned softly as Pacey walked into the room, his cock moving as he strode purposefully toward the bed. Pacey stared down at Jack, one knee resting on the mattress. "You didn't answer me, Jack. Did I turn you on?"
"Pacey, you're drunk."
"Spectacularly," he whispered as he leaned in, hovering over Jack, his muscles tensing as he held himself above his friend, barely a breath between them. Jack licked his dry lips, the tip of his tongue brushing Pacey's lower lip. They both stilled until Pacey made a soft, low sound, his lips meeting Jack's in a sweet rush.
Jack moaned, his lips parting to allow Pacey's tongue into his mouth. Heat flooded through him as Pacey's body shifted over his, his cock brushing Jack's stomach.
Groaning, Pacey explored Jack's mouth, tasting mint as his tongue brushed his teeth. He traced over the sensitive roof, feeling Jack's body jerk slightly as he shivered beneath him.
The soft snap of elastic broke them apart. Pacey settled back on his knees between Jack's parted legs, and glanced down at Jack, his lips parted with his heavier breaths. They stared at one another as Jack raised his hands from his boxers and reached out tentatively to brush his thumb over the tip of Pacey's cock.
Closing his eyes, Pacey tilted his head back as Jack's hand smoothed down his shaft. His hips rolled forward, pushing up against the surrounding warmth. Jack watched dry-mouthed and hungry-eyed as Pacey slowly brought his gaze back down, meeting his. He licked his lips, his eyes moving down Jack's arm to his hand and the tanned fingers wrapped around his cock.
Reaching down, Pacey stilled the stroking then eased Jack's hand away before sliding down his body, his fingers catching Jack's boxers and guiding them over his hips. Jack lifted off the bed, allowing Pacey to strip them off him, bunching them down by his ankles as he settled between his legs, one hand wrapping around the base of Jack's cock.
Jack shivered again, rising up on his elbows, watching as Pacey's eyes flickered toward him then back to his cock before he closed them, wrapping his mouth around Jack's shaft. "Oh…fuck." Jack's hips thrust up as Pacey's mouth covered him, pushing deeper.
Jack clenched the sheets beneath him in his fists, every muscle in his body tensed as one of Pacey's hands rubbed the outside of his thigh, the rough, dark hair tickling against his warm palm. Jack lost track of the sensation as Pacey's hot mouth moved over his cock, his tongue tracing the ridge of the swollen head as his other hand slid up from the base, massaging the hard flesh.
Pacey thrust down against the mattress as he sucked hard at the tip. Jack's body did the opposite, rising off the tangled sheets as he came deep in Pacey's throat.
Groaning as Pacey slowly released him, Jack collapsed back onto the bed, bathed in sweat. He started to say something, stopped by Pacey's fingers over his lips. Lying there, he watched Pacey climb over his body and hook open his nightstand drawer.
His spent cock twitched as Pacey screwed open the tube of lubricant, his whole body following suit as he felt Pacey's knees press against the inside of his thighs as he sat up and stared down at Jack, smoothing the thick gel onto his fingers.
Jack shuddered as Pacey massaged the taut skin that surrounded the tight muscle of his ass, carefully working the lubrication into Jack, pushing one finger past the aperture, following it quickly with a second.
"Pacey," Jack gasped as his fingers began thrusting, pushing up inside him with a slow, steady rhythm. Digging his heels into the bed, Jack burrowed into the mattress as his hips rose up to meet Pacey's moving fingers, his breath loud in the quiet room.
Pacey nodded, pulling his fingers free of Jack's body, ignoring the groan of protest that accompanied the action. The sound stopped at the tear of the condom wrapper, the promising snap of latex. Forcing himself back onto his elbows, Jack watched as Pacey painted the condom with lubricant, his hand smoothing it along his shaft.
Wrapping his hand around his cock, Pacey guided it along Jack's perineum before pressing the tip to the rosy flesh, feeling the heat and friction as he began to push forward, stretching the skin slowly as he entered him, his own blood pounding in his ears, blocking out the soft gasps of pleasure Jack uttered with every small stroke.
Pacey sucked in air as Jack constricted around him, holding him still, his cock buried deeply in Jack's body. He reached down and slid his hands under Jack's knees, bringing his legs up so that his feet were flat against the mattress, his legs spread, his ass lifted off the bed.
Taking a deep breath, Pacey pulled back slightly then thrust forward, his slow, steady rhythm increasing with every stroke - deeper, harder, faster.
Jack struggled to keep his eyes open, locked on the hazy blue of Pacey's. Both of them fought for breath, thick gasps punctuating the penetration. Running his palms over Jack's upper thighs, Pacey closed his eyes and groaned as Jack's body pulsed around his, his hips jerking hard against Jack as he came.
Jack woke up slowly, grimacing at the pounding in his head. A soft groan caused his eyes to snap open and he turned his head to see Pacey lying face down on his bed, still completely naked.
"Make that stop." Pacey's voice was thick and raspy. Jack realized the pounding was an insistent knocking on the front door as Pacey rolled over, glancing briefly at Jack before turning his gaze to the ceiling. "And explain why it feels like a squirrel is hibernating in my mouth."
"I guess some things just don't mix well with whiskey." Jack got off the bed and grabbed his boxers, pulling them on. "I'll get the door."
Pacey waited until Jack left the room before getting off the bed as well, surveying the carnage. The tube of lubricant had bled out onto the sheets and the condom spilt out over the edge of the wastebasket, surrounded by the silver foil that littered the floor.
"Hey, Audrey."
"Fuck." Pacey rubbed his face with both hands, looking around for something to wear as he listened to his girlfriend come into the apartment and follow Jack to the kitchen.
"Pacey here?"
"Somewhere?"
He grabbed a towel off the floor and wrapped it around his waist as he heard the sound of water and the clink of the coffeepot. Rubbing his face once more, he headed out toward the kitchen.
Audrey saw him and smiled, slipping off the counter to hug him. She stopped before she reached him, her nose wrinkling as she got closer. "Jesus. What did you do last night?"
Pacey's eyes darted to Jack, who was screwing the lid back on the whiskey bottle. "Well…"
"He was drunk. Spectacularly drunk, I believe he said." Jack smiled at Audrey as he placed the bottle back on top of the fridge. "He also said he was the god of sex."
"Not that again." Audrey rolled her eyes.
Jack chuckled and started pouring coffee, handing the first cup to Pacey. "I informed him that he couldn't quite claim that title."
"And you know that, how?" Audrey accepted her cup, running her eyes over Pacey's bare torso.
"Because, while I'm sure he's an animal in the sack, our pal Pacey here is strictly a heterosexual kind of guy."
"True." Audrey patted Pacey on the shoulder, her lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Sorry, honey."
Pacey watched Jack over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. Their eyes held for a moment, their secret locked safely in the confines of Jack's bedroom. "I guess I'll survive."
"Or we could have a threesome." Audrey grinned and took a sip of her coffee as Pacey nearly choked on his. "Or maybe not."