Title: One Fumbled Touch
Word count: 2080
AN: this was originally written for the fisting square on my last year's kink_bingo card but I've been messing around with it for so long that that card has expired. Now it's for the free square, I guess! Also, title is from After The Last Midtown Show by The Academy Is... because it's been a long time since I used bandom lyrics for a title.
Also available here at AO3.
One Fumbled Touch
“Do you have any idea what you look like?” Shaun whispers against the back of Zach’s neck.
Zach knows the answer to that: Shaun thinks he’s beautiful. It’s bullshit, obviously, but he doesn’t mind that Shaun thinks it.
He can’t answer right now though, too distracted by two of Shaun’s fingers curving snuggly inside him. He can’t do anything but choke out a totally embarrassing sound.
“Shh,” Shaun murmurs. He licks slowly around the shell of Zach’s ear and Zach starts to shake.
“Please,” he groans, amazed he can get any words out at all. It’s the middle of the day, sunlight streaming in through Shaun’s massive windows and Zach’s on his hands and knees in the middle of Shaun’s bed, cock hanging rock hard and obscene between his legs, Shaun’s fingers in his ass.
He feels exposed and weirdly sexy and he doesn’t want it to end.
“Please, what?” Shaun teases and fuck, he’s such a jerk.
Zach shakes his head. It’s not that he’s ashamed but he doesn’t talk about this shit, not with anyone; it's just not his style.
“Oh, well,” Shaun laughs, clearly amused. Zach’s glad he’s so fucking entertained. “I guess I’ll just keep doing this, then.”
He slides his fingers out, which makes Zach bite back a frustrated groan. There’s a gross squelching sound from the lube bottle before they slide back in. Zach shifts his hips because that’s not just-, that’s more. That’s got to be three fingers and that’s more than he’s taken before.
“Okay?” Shaun asks, more serious now. He rubs his free hand against Zach’s hip. “Too much?”
Zach shakes his head again, refutation this time. Refutation, that’s a good word, hanging out with a writer must be good for his vocabulary. He’s going lightheaded, probably because he hasn’t breathed for a while.
He lets his mouth drop open, sucking in air and manages, “No, no that’s good. That’s-.” He pushes his hips back and Shaun matches his rhythm, fingerfucking him smoothly. He means to say great, but it comes out as, “Shaun.”
“Shh,” Shaun hums but he stills his hand and shifts up the bed a little, kisses the corner of Zach’s mouth until Zach turns his head, searching blindly for a proper kiss.
It’s deep and wet and messy and now they’re both short of breath when they break apart. Shaun’s face is flushed and there’s a silly smile on his lips, the one that Zach keeps managing to bring out of him even though he doesn’t know how or why.
Shaun’s fingers have slipped out of Zach and they’re wet against the inner curve of his ass cheeks now, thumb sticky against his tailbone. Zach misses them, feels empty.
“Oops,” Shaun says. He’s laughing again; he laughs a lot when they’re in bed and Zach loves that. He pushes lightly at Zach’s side and Zach rolls easily onto his back. He never thought he’d be down with this, with laying himself out for anyone, guy or girl, but sex is easy with Shaun.
Shaun sits back on his heels and just looks. It makes Zach want to squirm, but he doesn’t. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he cracks eventually. It’s that or blush and he fucking hates blushing.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Shaun agrees and reaches over to grab his cell off the windowsill.
“No, fuck, Shaun,” Zach protests but Shaun’s already done it, snapped one photo then another.
“For when you go back to LA?” Zach asks. He means it come out teasing, like he’s implying Shaun’s just storing up jerk-off fantasies, but it doesn’t sound teasing at all and Shaun goes quiet, putting the camera down.
“Because I like looking at you,” Shaun tells him and slides up the bed, pushing one hand through Zach’s hair to kiss him. He doesn’t promise that he’s not going back to LA and that’s good, obviously; Zach never expected him to say that.
Suddenly antsy, Zach rocks his hips up. “What, did you forget what you were doing, old man?”
Shaun shuts him up by pushing his fingers back into Zach. It’s all three at once and it makes Zach hiss and arch up, his cock pressing against Shaun’s stomach.
“No,” Shaun says easily, “Did you?”
“Bitch,” Zach groans, but he doesn’t mean it. He feels centered again and it’s totally fucked up that having any part of Shaun inside him is apparently enough to do that for him, but he’s not going to fight it.
Shaun’s looking at him really intently and he sits up enough to get a better view of what his fingers are doing. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asks and oh, fuck, Zach has no idea but he really likes the idea.
“'Course,” he says but they both know he's bullshitting. It’s not like he’s ever done anything like this before.
Shaun slicks his fingers up again and then slides down so he’s between Zach’s legs. His buzzcut brushes Zach’s inner thighs and that’s enough to make Zach’s cock twitch, growing even harder.
Adding Shaun’s pinkie finger shouldn’t make that big a difference but it does, Shaun’s fingers all lined up forcing him wider open than he’s ever been. Zach feels stretched and it doesn’t hurt, but it aches like it should hurt, like only the fact that it’s Shaun that’s doing this is keeping Zach from flying apart.
Shaun twists his hand, fingers dragging inside Zach and oh, fuck, Zach likes that. He spreads his legs wider, lost and totally shameless and there’s so much sensory overload going on that he doesn’t even realise Shaun is kissing his cock until Shaun’s morning stubble brushes the head.
“Jesus Christ,” Zach swears and digs his heels into the dips just above Shaun’s hips. “More,” he chokes and has no idea what more can possibly be but he trusts Shaun to know.
“What, seriously?” Shaun asks. He stops mouthing at Zach’s cock and that’s bad because Zach likes it but good because it means he can think, at least a little.
“What?” he asks, confused by the strange shift in Shaun’s voice, how it’s a little surprised, a little awed. And oh, oh, Zach realises what he just asked for, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah? Why not?”
Shaun laughs, disbelieving, but he goes with it. Shaun’s always gone with Zach’s crazy ideas; he’s never told Zach that he’s too young to try the shit he wants to try. He was the one who taught Zach and Gabe to surf, who told them to get up and try again when they fell off their skateboards, who drove them to emergency when getting up and trying again led to broken bones.
He’s always pushed Zach and he’s always been there to catch him and Zach trusts him with this.
“Please,” he whispers because this bed, being here with Shaun, that’s his new surfing and skating, his new freedom.
Shaun kisses his stomach. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he orders but that’s all the caution he gives, like he trusts Zack to make his own decisions. He sucks Zach’s cock into his mouth and Zach concentrates on that, not on what Shaun’s doing between his legs until he can’t any more, until Shaun’s hand is nudging against him, easing ohsofuckingslowly inside him.
Zach can feel the soft glide of Shaun’s skin and carefully blunt nails, the ridges of his knuckles. It’s fine at first but then it keeps going, doesn’t stop, Zach getting more and more stretched, fuller, and it’s too much, it’s way too much; he’s not going to survive this.
He must make some kind of sound because Shaun stops.
Zach grabs at him blindly, can’t work out how to open his eyes, and ends up catching the side of Shaun’s neck, his shoulder, which he clings to desperately. “Don’t stop,” he groans. Stopping is out of the question.
“I’m hurting you,” Shaun says through gritted teeth but Zach just shakes his head.
“Not,” he promises, “You’re not. You’re-.” He shifts and Shaun shifts with him and Zach holds on and then, Christ, Shaun’s hand is inside him, Shaun’s whole hand, and the sounds Zach’s words dissolve into are barely human.
He knows Shaun’s saying something to him, crooning it even although they’ll neither of them ever admit that, but Zach can’t hear him.
He can barely think, barely breathe but it’s okay, it’s fine, it’s exactly what he needs. He doesn’t want to think. If he can’t think, he can’t worry and that’s such a fucking relief.
He feels his feet collide with the mattress and he arches up. His nerve endings are all firing at the same time and he can’t control what he’s doing, but it’s okay, Shaun’s got him and it’s okay.
“Baby,” Shaun whispers, breath warm on Zach’s stomach and that shouldn’t be enough to tip the balance, really it shouldn’t, but Shaun wraps his other hand around his cock and whispers, "I got you," and that’s it, Zach comes so hard he can feel it everywhere. Shaun’s hand shifts inside him and the orgasm just doesn’t stop, rolling dry and epic and endless from his spine to his fingertips until he’s nearly sobbing with it.
It’s too much, way too much, and Zach doesn’t want to say he feels reborn or any fucking cliche like that, but he feels like his mind’s been wiped clean, like he doesn’t know anything but the hot flush of his body and Shaun’s soothing voice in his ear, like getting wiped out on the crest of a wave and getting washed up laughing on a beach.
“Beautiful,” Shaun says and Zach would tell him to quit it but he doesn’t even remember where his tongue is, let alone how to use it. “This is probably going to feel weird,” Shaun adds and then he’s easing his hand out of Zach and Zach mutters some kind of protest, he doesn’t want it gone and, fuck, yes, it does feel weird.
Shaun kisses him softly when he’s done but Zach just feels empty and he doesn’t like it. He tries to grab Shaun’s arm when Shaun moves to get off the bed but Shaun kisses his palm and stands up.
“I’ll be ten seconds,” Shaun promises him and Zach listens to him pad into the bathroom, the sounds of running water and the clatter of a soap dish against the sink.
Zach rolls over to lie on his stomach and doesn’t think. It’s like his brain’s been turned off, kind of like he’s smoked up, but calmer. It’s great; he could stay like this for a long time.
“You’re smiling,” Shaun’s voice says out of the sunlit darkness behind Zach’s eyes. He sounds like he is too.
Zach shifts over onto his back again. Moving wakes up an ache in his ass that he just can’t ignore but he likes it. He squints open his eyes and, yep, Shaun’s smiling at him.
“Hey,” Zach croaks and wonders what he did with his voice. Shaun’s cock is nestled half-hard between his legs and Zach reaches for it automatically. He’s slow though, lazy, and Shaun catches his fingers easily.
“Don’t worry about that; it’ll keep,” he says, stretching out on the bed beside Zach.
“That’s not fair,” Zach protests but Shaun just laughs and pulls him over onto his side.
“One day, when student is older, he will learn that getting off is not only point of sex,” he intones solemnly.
Zach makes a face because seriously? It seems like the point to him. Shaun bursts out laughing and kisses him on the nose. It’s wet and sloppy and Zach shoves at him half-heartedly.
It’s the kind of shove that ends up with them pressed closer together than they were before and they wind up sharing the same pillow, Shaun’s upper arm tight around Zach’s waist, his other hand stroking through Zach’s hair.
Zach shifts closer until his forehead is pressed to the sweaty curve of Shaun’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything because the only thing he could possibly say right now involves the word love and that’s a bad idea on so many levels when he's only Shaun's summer fling.
“Thanks,” he says instead, eventually, and he doesn’t mean thanks for fisting me even though that was a pretty fucking special experience. He just means thanks.
“Any time,” Shaun promises him and Zach thinks he gets it anyway.
NB: I don't think there's a Shelter fic comm but, if there is, can someone point me in the right direction?