harper

The stream of words leaving Ivan’s mouth subsequently left Harper breathless, gasping for air as he fucked into Ivan as hard as he could, bottoming out in every thrust. “You feel so good,” he mumbled, struggling to find oxygen in the hearse’s now thick and humid air. 

Harper didn’t give him much time to adjust, thrusting hard and greedy. He scraped his nails down Ivan’s back, making low noises in his throat as he moved in and out. This was a new experience for Harper- fucking a guy in his hearse until streetlamps while Arctic Monkeys played out on the speakers, masking the small whining noises he knew he had been making. It was new, but he loved every second of it. Every weak muscle, skipped heartbeat and ragged breath- he loved it all. 

When Harper looked up through his lashes, meeting eyes with the brown eyed boy, he felt a twinge in his heart. His features were small and sharp, all frail bones and dark contours, shaded with the heavy shadows from the street lamps outside of the hearse. Taking his mouth from the boy, he lined up his still very much hard cock and pushed inside, deeper and deeper with each thrust as he gripped onto his hips. 

Without taking another beat, he bent over to trace his tongue around Ivan’s entrance, pushing inside and licking hot lines upward. His hand reached around, grasping his dick with his hand and pumping while using his mouth to hopefully get a reaction. He quickened his motions, running his thumb over the tip if his dick while pushing deep inside. “God, you taste so fucking good.”

Harper could’ve sworn he heard the archangels sing when he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Ivan’s throat. His legs shook, barely being able to hold his weight up when all he could think about was not finishing all over his pretty little face. “Turn over.” God, he fucking needed him. He had lost all self control and couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Amidst the pleasure coursing through Harper’s body, he was gentlemen enough to wipe the tears from Ivan’s eyes. His jaw clenched as another rush took over his entire body, his toes curling and back arching again. “Fuck, you’re so good.” It came out as more of a whine, which wasn’t what he had intended at all. The streetlamps made it just dim enough inside the hearse to see Ivan’s lip move around the base of his cock. He almost lost it right then and there, but he had enough will to hold back. He wanted to give Ivan the fuck of his life first. 

Harper’s head lolled back, his lips parting and a shaky breath escaping. He didn’t think he’d be this good, but he wasn’t complaining. He felt every movement of Ivan’s tongue, tugging on his hair and thrusting into his mouth. He needed him more, he needed all of him. He wanted to fuck the smug look off of his face. 

Harper could play nice, sure, but every noise Ivan made in response to a squeeze or a slap went straight to his dick. He craved control, wanting him to fall apart in front of him. Fingers in his mouth, he met eyes with him, a low guttural sound coming from somewhere deep inside him escaped when he sucked on his fingers. He fucking loved it. “Take the whole fucking thing, baby.” Harper’s fingers never left Ivan’s curly black hair, keeping a tight grip as he waited. 

That’s when Harper pulled out, leaving Ivan completely empty. “Get on your knees,” he asserted, pushing his fingers into his hair and gripping it at the nape of his neck. “I know you’ve got some practice.” He ran a finger across his lips. “You’ve got the mouth for it.” It was hard for Harper to look him in the eyes and not think of how fucking beautiful he was and how he wanted to be so gentle, but he let that thought go with a semi-gentle slap his cheek. 

He watched the scene play on before him, fingers working Ivan until he sounded needy. Harper moved faster now, pushing against the hard patch of tissue to hopefully send pleasure through his body. “So fucking needy,” he whispered, taking his hand off of the boys throat and leaning over him to connect their lips, hard and fervent, moving in time to the thrusts of his hand. His teeth closed over the boy’s bottom lip, nipping and sucking until he may have tasted a little blood. Good, he thought. 

“That’s what you want?” Harper gave a sly smile, pressing against him harder this time, sliding a finger inside him to hear him moan. He took his other hand and wrapped it around Ivan’s throat, squeezing with just enough pressure on the side to make it slightly harder to breathe. He took his finger from inside the boy and grabbed the bottle of strawberry lube sitting next to him, letting a cold stream run over Ivan. He capped the bottle and replaced his finger quick and harsh, curling it and squeezing the boys throat a little harder. "You fucking love it don't you?" Slowly, he added another finger, pushing inside of him until he couldn’t push anymore, then scissoring and curling the two fingers to get a reaction out of him. “Tell me how fucking good it feels.” Harper's face was turning red watching the boy come undone beneath him.

When he threw his arm over his face and let a string of curses fly it only urged him further, taking all of Ivan into his mouth in one movement. His fingernails dug into the meat of his ass, moving slowly up and back down with his mouth. “Tell me what you want,” Harper said in a much harsher tone than he had intended. “This?” He pushed himself all the way the the base of Ivan’s cock, making a gagging noise that wasn’t all that necessary . “Or this?” He took two fingers and pushed them deep into Ivan’s mouth before running them along the line of his ass, adding slight pressure but just teasing. “Yeah?”

His lips parted and released a shaky breath, a soft whimper following. Every part of him was on fire. He grasped Ivan’s wrist and pinned it behind him, flipping them so now he was on top. “Don’t move,” he nearly growled in the boys ear. He wanted Ivan to beg for it, to wither underneath him. He traced circles with his tongue up his torso and back down, tugging at the band of his underwear with his teeth. He ran his lips lightly over the head of Ivan’s cock, teasing, using his hands to squeeze his thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He used one hand to lift the smaller boy’s leg over his shoulder so he could fit in closer and the other to grasp him fully, pumping slowly and steadily.