Page 16 of Crybaby
“You did so good. So fucking good,” Jason praised before kissing the taste of his come out of Sasha’s mouth.
Sasha moaned and squirmed, cock hard between them, a bright, painful-looking red.
“Here, let me return the favour.” Jason manoeuvred them in the reversal of their first position, with Sasha on his back and Jason between his thighs.
With a last quick look at Sasha’s face, his flushed cheeks and lips, he wrapped his hand around the base of Sasha’s cock, parted his lips, and sank down.
Jason liked sucking dick. He liked sucking dicka lot. It was fun, and powerful, and messy. Sure, it made his jaw ache after a while, and there were some rude motherfuckers out there who would push in without warning, but he didn’t think Sasha would be one of those.
Sasha moaned as his cock was enveloped in wet heat, twitching but not moving, and Jason set a deep, excruciatingly slow pace at once. He took Sasha’s cock into his throat and held it there for as long as he could before pulling slowly off, sucking lightly on the head as he caught his breath and then doing it all over again.
It wasn’t long before Sasha was babbling in Russian, incomprehensible except for the words ‘please’ and ‘Jason.’ Jason did nothing to up the pace, however, glancing up to see that Sasha’s cheeks were wet with tears again. A bolt of lust pierced right through his lungs, leaving him utterly breathless.
He pulled off, mouthing at Sasha’s balls as he jerked him off slowly. “You wanna come, baby?”
Sasha’s whole body seemed to strain forwards with want. “Please. Please,” Sasha slurred.
He begged so prettily—who was Jason to deny him?
He wrapped his mouth around the head of Sasha’s cock, sucking and rubbing his tongue against the underside as he jerked him off quickly. Sasha shouted at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Jason could feel Sasha’s body tense, thighs trembling, and with a loud, drawn-out moan, Sasha came into his mouth.
Jason swallowed easily, sucking ever so slightly until it clearly became too much for Sasha.
He wiped at his face and then crawled up the bed until he could collapse half-on, half-beside Sasha, both of them sweaty and panting. Sasha turned towards him immediately, wrapping his long arms around Jason and squeezing.
“Good?” Jason asked, laughing a little.
Sasha mumbled something Russian and burrowed into Jason. All Jason could do was hold Sasha too, stroking his hair tenderly until they cooled down.
“Hey, how ’bout I turn off the lights, and we get under the sheets?” Jason suggested softly.
Sasha grumbled but let Jason go just long enough so that he could shut the curtains and hit the switch, wrestling both of them under the sheets before wrapping himself around Jason again.
There was an ache in Jason’s future, the flinch before pain came, but for now, he just closed his eyes and let himself sink into the heat of Sasha’s body, into the cool embrace of sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
The morning dawned slowly and a little confused as Jason was awoken by the jostle of another body next to his.
“Why is it so hot?” he whined, rolling away.
“You just wake up and already complain? This is how you start every morning?”
Jason cracked his eyes open, staring at Sasha’s rumpled hair and pillow-creased face. The events of last night percolated through the grimy filter of his mind. “Breakfast?” he croaked hopefully.
Sasha rolled his eyes. “Lazy boy,” he said but got out of bed nonetheless.
Jason turned his pillow onto the cool side and slumped back onto it. He could freak out later. He didn’t have enough functioning neurons at the moment to do more than doze off.
He was woken up again by Sasha’s commanding, “Go shower.” Jason groaned but did as he was asked. The refreshing spray of the shower did wonders for waking him up. By the time he was dried and dressed in some sweats and a threadbare shirt, he felt like an actual human.
When he stepped into the kitchen, Jason saw that Sasha had prepared eggs with vegetables and cut up some fruit. “Looks good,” he complimented.
Sasha narrowed his eyes at him. “What you eat? Have no food.”
“If I have no food, then what the hell did you cook with? Air?” He settled across from Sasha at the breakfast bar, pulling the plate Sasha wasn’t digging into towards himself with a pleased hum.
“Yes, Russian make food out of air.”
