Series: Jukebox Musical
Warnings: NC-17, PWP, definitely NSFW
Word Count: 1101
Disclaimer: If I owned it, the soundtrack would be Kane.
Summary: The only thing hotter than the room is Eliot and Hardison.
The room is boiling, every breath soaked with heat as Eliot brushes hair out of his eyes. Not even the faintest hint of breeze comes through the open windows to help cool the hitter down.
“You all right?” he murmurs, sliding one hand down Alec's back. His lover's skin is slick with sweat, his long limbs sprawled across the bed. Their sole surviving sheet is twisted around his ankle and several constellations of hickeys line his back. The hacker looks absolutely wrecked, the sight of him sending a possessive thrill through Eliot. He's the one who did this. He's the only one allowed to make his lover feel this way.
“'m fantastic,” Alec replies without lifting his head from the pillow, one hand waving in a vague thumb's up. The younger man groans when the hitter slides down the mattress further and slides two fingers into him. He's still stretched from their last round, dripping wet with cum and lube as he clenches tight around Eliot.
“You think you can go again?” the older man asks, pushing into his lover lazily. He's met with a strangled moan as the hacker's hips snap back and his legs spread even wider. It's an invitation that Eliot can't resist so he leans down to lick a stripe across his lover's rim.
Alec arches underneath him, his voice breaking on a gasp. The hacker is a live wire, lightning in his hands, and Eliot wants to taste that spark again.
“Easy now, I've got you,” he whispers, stroking Alec's hip. The older man kisses the inside of his lover's thigh before diving in again.
He licks into the other man, strong sure strokes as he chases the taste of his own seed. Every thrust makes his lover tremble, high broken moans when he drives deep. Eliot sucks at that taut muscle and then shoves his tongue back in, stretching Alec further as spit drips down his chin. He laps at every nook and cranny, the hacker scorching hot against his mouth. Each twitch and plea and shudder makes his own cock fill.
Eliot licks the younger man clean until he's reduced to gasps and whimpers and his jaw is aching from the strain. The hitter is burning up, the temperature raised even higher, and he pulls back for a moment just to breathe. But the younger man is rutting against the mattress, his dark skin glistening, and the sight lands like a blow again.
“Fuck, darling,” he groans, the words ripped from his throat. Eliot crooks his fingers, searching until Alec snaps taut under him. He teases his lover's prostrate, holding him down with his free hand so he doesn't thrash right off the bed.
Only when the other man is really begging, one long unbroken plea, does he pull his fingers free. Then the hitter yanks Alec's hips up off the bed and slides home in one quick move.
“Eliot!” his lover cries, clawing the mattress as he comes almost instantly. He clenches tight and it takes every ounce of the hitter's self-control not to follow after him. But he manages, waiting until the younger man stops shaking before he starts to move. Alec moans as Eliot pulls out, tight heat and velvet trying to draw his cock back in. He's always more sensitive after he comes, still riding out the aftershocks, but the hitter knows he likes it. Alec loves the feeling of being completely overwhelmed.
So he grabs his lover's shoulders for proper leverage and thrusts deep again before leaning up to whisper in his ear, “I know you're tired, darling, but one more time for me. I wanna feel you come again. I want to feel you shudder under me.”
“Jesus, El, please,” Alec groans in answer. “You're gonna kill me.”
But he just braces himself against the headboard and shoves back into Eliot. So the older man starts up a steady rhythm, the slow drag of skin on skin and sharp strokes pushing deep. Alec's body welcomes him, still as sweet as that first time, and every touch remains a promise of greater ecstasy.
“El, El, El,” the younger man chants, the words punched out of him. His arms collapse when Eliot wraps one hand around his length, both men so close it almost hurts. But the hitter knows exactly how far to push his lover. Reading people's bodies is his skill set and he's made it his mission to learn all of Alec's tells.
So Eliot grabs the hacker around the waist and yanks him upright, the new angle driving his cock in even deeper. He strokes his lover hard and fast, drunk on heat and pleasure, the scent of sex upon his tongue.
A few more thrusts as the hitter twists off rhythm and Alec shudders in his arms. The hacker's head slams back into his shoulder as he spills into Eliot's hand. This time the hitter allows himself to follow, a sharp burst of pleasure leaving only bliss behind. No past, no future, just this moment, just two bodies moving together sinfully.
Then Eliot slumps down to the bed, completely spent, and pulls Alec with him. He curls around his lover, holding him close until their both heartbeats slow. They're both completely filthy, no respite from the heat, and the hitter starts to pull away so that he can get them clean. But Alec latches onto him.
“I'm just gonna get a rag,” the older man tells him quietly. “We're going to be disgusting in the morning.”
“The AC is broken and Portland is having a freak heat wave; we're going to be disgusting anyway,” Alec grumbles. “Might as well make the most of it. Stay in me until morning and then fuck me when you wake. Wanna feel you while I sleep.”
“Damn it, Hardison,” Eliot protests. “I'm pretty sure you're gonna kill me, not the other way around.”
But his objection is half-hearted. That's not an order that the hitter really wants to disobey, not when the thought alone makes his dick twitch again. So Eliot doesn't argue. He just tugs his lover closer and tucks his face into his neck. The older man breathes in the scent of Alec, trying not to think about the stuff he's covered in. It doesn't really matter anyway.
“Sleep well,” Eliot murmurs against the hacker's skin. “I've got you.”
“Love you, too,” Alec replies, already drifting off, and while the hitter doesn't sleep much, he lets the other man's measured breathing carry him away.