Leave Me Shuddering for Days

~1300 words :: Jude Law/Ewan McGregor :: 5/15/06
Ewan likes watching porn and Johnny Lawless is his favourite star. (Note: Commentary for this fic can be found here.)

The camera zooms in for a closeup of slick fingers slipping from a glistening arsehole, wrapping around a cock and holding it in place. The man sits down slowly, skin stretching impossibly tight, and the camera pulls back again for a shot of his face, mouth wide-open and eyelashes fluttering.

Ewan rewinds, watches that scene again as he clips his nails. The bloke on the telly, the one whose cock is where Ewan would like to be right now, he’s tied to a chair, bound and gagged as Johnny Lawless has his way with him. Johnny Lawless’s way usually involves getting fucked, of which Ewan heartily approves. That arse was made for it.

Half watching Johnny on the screen and half lost in his own fantasy of bending him over and pounding the hell out of him, Ewan doesn’t even hear the door. He doesn’t notice Jude til a hand slides down over his chest. “Couldn’t wait for me?” Jude murmurs in his ear, as the same voice on the telly says, “You’d better not fucking come, bitch.”

Ewan tilts his head back for a kiss. “Just getting warmed up,” he mumbles against Jude’s lips, slipping his nail clippers into his pocket.

“You fucking perv,” Jude laughs, tumbling over the back of the sofa to land with his head in Ewan’s lap and his legs in the air. He twists around til he’s on his belly, cups Ewan’s cock through his jeans and gives it a squeeze. “You get off on watching your boy get fucked.”

On the telly, he moans.

Gaze flicking up to the screen, Ewan laces his fingers in Jude’s hair, pressing Jude’s face to his crotch. Johnny Lawless arches his back and Jude nuzzles at Ewan’s erection. “I love it,” Ewan says, as jizz spatters over the bloke in the chair.

“Obviously.” Jude’s breath is hot, his fingers skidding over Ewan’s fly. “May I?”

“Yeah. Take the edge off.”

Jude pauses in the middle of unzipping Ewan’s jeans, obviously wanting to say something. But he knows better than to ask questions, and soon he’s so focused on Ewan’s cock, Ewan’s sure he’s not thinking of anything else. God knows Ewan can’t. Groaning, he rocks up into Jude’s mouth, caressing the back of his neck, and his fingers slip underneath the slim, braided-leather necklace, pulling it tight as he comes.

He feels boneless afterwards, like he might slide right off the sofa into a puddle on the floor. Johnny Lawless may not be known for his blowjobs, but he damn well should be. Then again, Ewan’s always liked Jude Law better.

The noise of the telly cuts off suddenly and Ewan blinks his eyes open, glances down to see Jude smiling up at him, flushed and sweaty, the remote hanging loosely from his fingers. “Unless you wanted to watch it again?” Jude says, struggling into a sitting position and pushing his hair up off his forehead.

“Nah.” Deciding his legs no longer feel quite as rubbery, Ewan stands, shoving his jeans down over his hips and letting them drop to the floor. His shirt soon joins them. “I have a better idea.”

“And it involves being naked, does it?” Jude grins, running his hand over Ewan’s hip. “I approve. Especially if it involves both of us being naked.”

“Very naked.” Ewan jerks his head towards the bedroom. “Nakedly naked. In our nakedness.”

Laughing, Jude scrambles to his feet, grabs him round the waist and stumbles across the room. “You’ve said it too many times now! It doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“I want you stripped bare,” Ewan says, fumbling with Jude’s fly, “nude, starkers.” Slipping his hand inside Jude’s pants, he gives his cock a squeeze, pulling away as soon as Jude starts thrusting into his grip. “Now. And then I want you on your back on the bed.”

Jude’s eyes widen and he swallows, dropping his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”

He’s quick after that, shucking off jeans and pants and tossing his shirt on top of the chest of drawers, knocking a couple of CDs to the floor. He poses with one hip cocked, arms behind his head, and grins. “Want me to keep my socks on?”

“This isn’t one of your films,” Ewan snaps.

Jude bends to pluck them off one by one. “I was only joking…”

“I know,” Ewan says, as first one then the other sock hits him in the chest. He pushes Jude back onto the bed, climbs on top of him. “I didn’t mean it.”

There’s no time for talking after that, Ewan makes sure of it. His mouth is busy kissing, licking, biting. When he asks, “You’re not filming for a while?” his only answer is Jude’s fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him back down as Jude arches up. Ewan takes that as a yes, teeth sinking into Jude’s thigh hard enough to make Jude cry out.

“Oh God. Oh please, Ewan, please,” Jude whines as Ewan bats his hand away from his cock, “Master…”

Lips curving into a grin, Ewan shuffles backwards, pushes Jude’s legs up. He bends his head, tongue flicking out over Jude’s arsehole, and that gets him another “please”. It gets him more than that soon enough. His tongue thrust in as deep as it can go has Jude begging, both hands fisted in Ewan’s hair because he knows better than to touch his cock.

It’s so easy. “Good boy,” Ewan mutters, two fingers sliding easily into Jude’s spit-slick hole. He’ll need more than spit, though. “Gimme the lube. Can you reach it?”

Ewan watches as Jude stretches out, a line of bites and bruises running up his side. It would probably be easier for Jude to grab the lube if Ewan weren’t rubbing his prostate, but it’s more fun this way. Jude’s hips jerk, hand smacking against the bedside table, but finally his fingers curl around the bottle and he tosses it onto the bed near Ewan.

With a little lube, Ewan adds a third finger, and then a fourth, stretching Jude open. Jude’s hands are in the bedsheets, his knees in the air. His mouth is open and he’s begging again: “Please, more, Master, Ewan, GodohpleaseohGod!”

Ewan just keeps adding more lube, twisting in and out, in and out until he’s hard again himself just listening to Jude, just watching the way his whole body tenses. “Relax.” Ewan tucks his thumb in, adds more lube, smoothes his hand down the inside of Jude’s thigh until his breathing evens out. “Almost there.”

And then with one more push, he is. He’s inside, fingers curling into a fist. His chest is tight and his mouth is dry and no amount of swallowing seems to do any good. “God…” he breathes, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine.

He rocks his fist forward, then does it again and says, “Come for me,” and with a choked moan, Jude does, splashing come over his chest and belly.

“Oh,” Jude says faintly, Adam’s apple bobbing furiously. His knuckles are white against the sheets, his cheeks flushed red. “Oh God…”

It feels like forever before Ewan’s hand is out, before he can finally get it around his cock. As Jude lets his legs flop down, Ewan clambers over him, straddling his waist as he wanks. It doesn’t matter how many people watch Johnny Lawless get fucked; Ewan’s the only one who’ll ever see this. “You’re mine,” he gasps, jizz spattering onto Jude’s face, his hair.

Jude smiles. “Yours.”