#nik cod

just old school fully tatted up price in a white tank showing off his arms, wearing black nitrile gloves while he inks johnny’s virgin skin, listening to his cut off whimpers as he fights not to squirm. he sits so well for him, even during the sharper lines that make him struggle, just hangs onto the chair and bites his bottom lip, and all price wants to do is find out what other noises he can get him to make, his jeans barely hiding his hardening cock as he drags the tattoo out

price pulling out his glasses for the finer line work, lamenting how he never used to need them but that’s what you get tattooing in the basements of clubs, half cut on alcohol and anything else he could get his hands on. he pauses midway through the tattoo to pull his belt line down and show off the faded, choppy lines in his inner pelvis he did as a dare, snickering to himself as he tells johnny that to this day he has no idea what it’s supposed to be; can barely remember doing it, he was so off his face and it’s so blown out it’s completely illegible anyway

johnny gives a weak laugh and can’t even pretend to look at the tattoo when he’s so captivated by the thick, wild mess of price’s pubes next to the faded ink

he’s completely done for when nik comes in at the same moment, cigar casually hanging from his lips, and crows his own loud laughter at the sight; unashamedly tugging his belt line even lower to get the full tattoo out and confessing he was the one who dared him to do it. he tells johnny as much as he can remember about that night too like he isn’t flashing the root of price’s cock just a hand’s breadth away from his face, his own hand covered in green-black ink from tattoos older than johnny is

but as the tattoo goes on, as they laugh and smoke and talk about the lives they’ve lived as alternative gay men and nik being an immigrant, coming up in communities that don’t want either of them so they built their own, it becomes about more than just lust

johnny admits to facing his own unique bigotry because of his religious upbringing, even as he beats back the twinge of shame at comparing it to what they’ve gone through. he tells them about leaving to go to uni, hoping he would find the freedom and sense of belonging he’s always wanted… just to find out even amongst these “liberated” minds, they have their own cliques and rules about who he’s supposed to be; the gay people he thought he would bond with just as prissy and regimented as his parents, telling him he’s too wild and gives the rest of them a bad name, that they’re better than those gross queers you always hear about

price finishes the tattoo and johnny struggles to bundle up the sharp sense of grief at the thought of leaving these men, of having to walk away from this burgeoning sense of safety and just how right it feels to be with them. he’s quiet as price wraps his chest, the touch gentle but for how rough and real his hands feel on his skin, and he almost flinches when nik throws his arm over his shoulders and asks if he feels up to getting something to eat; such a long session deserves aftercare, after all

his wording is so incredibly deliberate and johnny’s a blushing mess as he pushes out a meek, “sounds good”

just johnny getting taken under leather daddy price’s wing, being shown kink events and drag clubs, these “dirty” places that are more connected and protective of their own, no matter who they are, than anyone he’s ever met. nik showing him underground artists and thrash bands, singers that scream out their rage and their grief and their longing and musicians that break themselves to play with the intensity they have inside them; where he leaves shows feeling like he’d just been in a riot, so loose and bruised and free after seeing this pure display of sound and thought and artistic intent

he learns more about expression and integrity and emotion from them all than his carefully curated art class could ever hope to

johnny realising he was never going to fit in in these “proper” places no matter how much he tried to change himself. he always needed these alternative, sincere men to show him the world he was missing, the one you can only be invited to

he needed to be welcomed home instead of chasing one that would never be his

🚁💰🧼 (horny time)

genuinely can’t stop thinking about johnny trying to fit in with these high maintenance, judgemental college gays - waxing his whole body and going on a cut when all he’s ever wanted is to bulk up - getting taken in by old man nikprice who don’t count it as a fuck until they’re both filthy and disgusting; covered in each other’s spit and sweat and cum, the only reason they’re not still fucking because they physically can’t get it up any more and even then, they can’t stop groping each other’s soft cock and empty, sweat-damp balls

johnny who can’t even get head if he isn’t completely shaved and showered beforehand, staring in pure awe and longing as nik recounts pinning price down and eating his ass the night before when he got back from a three day tattoo convention and hadn’t slept or showered the whole time

all johnny can picture during his tattoo is sinking down on price’s cock, nik’s hand tangled in his hair and guiding him down, until his lips hit that old, faded ink; the two of them sharing that cigar as they indulge in sharing a new sweet young thing between them. he almost starts drooling as he goes even further, thinks about them chuckling to each other about how cute he is as he goes limp once they’re both finally inside him, his head falling back on nik’s shoulder, mouth slack as he does his best to cling to price. they wouldn’t even need to fuck him, just sit him on their cocks as his throbbing hole milks them…

both of them are just so big and hairy compared to his gym rat body, sleek and hairless since that’s what he’s been taught is most attractive. but here are these older effortlessly sexy men, their bulk and rough edges making them even hotter, and they like ruining his perfect hair and skin; the messier they get him, the better

hey just so you know your protests and claims of being “too big” mean absolutely nothing and Nikolai would 100% flirt with you by pulling you into his lap while he sits in his pilot seat. he just will not hear it; the man needs an excuse to get his hands on you, now, and what better way to do that than to show you the ropes? maybe he’d light a cigarette and let you press all kinds of important buttons, whispering commands and nibbling on your earlobe to work a shy little giggle out of you — his way of working you open and warming you up. and something deep stirs in him at the sight of you playing, of following his orders; Nik’s exhaling clouds and smirking with his chin tucked over your shoulder, puffs curling into your face when he wraps his big bear paws around your hands and shows you how to steer. he’s got you squirming in his lap, soft thighs clenched together, anxiously fidgeting the closer his mouth gets to your skin. he coos graveled praise against your ear when you pull on the cyclic stick just right because you just listen so well…soft girls like you are good at listening, no? you think so? why don’t you show me how good you can listen, hm? part your legs, printsessa.

[Domestic Nik] Commission for @danaeesarte

(My pin terest is officially cooked. There's no coming back from this one)

This was worse.

Alive but not fit to serve.

Not fit to serve had to be the worst news he'd gotten. The idea of having no outlet, of having nothing to drown in to quiet the thoughts was his personal nightmare.

He begged and pleaded — something he was still ashamed of— with price for something, anything. Just keep him on the team. He'll get better, he'll be of use again, he swears.

John price sees the potential. The potential in the desperation running through this hunk of a man.

Mechanic simon riley who walks with a limp, who's fingers still twitch and cramp too often. But he has a purpose again, he's needed again.

And thats good. He likes it. Spending his day in garages with music blasting, the plastic mask hung up next to a wrench — just a bother now, but he doesn't want to forget.

Mechanic simon who is much more than just that, has to wear a plug most days. Knowing when his team would come back they'd have no patience to prep him properly — well, johnny sometimes would. He liked to watch simon squirm on his fingers and tongue until he was begging for the real thing — just needing a warm and tight hole to take away the stress.

Gasping and trying to pull his mask off when price's fat cock stretches him, feeling Kyle's load seeping past and drip down his thighs. The drool and tears in the fabric making it harder to breath, has him almost suffocating. But fuck if it doesn't make him harder.

Mechanic simon who was excited to get taught how to fix aircrafts by nik. Simon really should've really known he didn't need those skills. Nik could fix it already. He ends up clawing at the concrete floor beneath him, pathetic sobs running through him, from.... god he doesnt know, probably hours of the Russian fucking into him and milking his cock dry.