#sourleno

Not even this, apparently.

"I'm busy," Justin says. He's really not, but last week Leno had said he wouldn't mind if Justin was a little meaner to him, and Justin likes to please.

"Just--please? I'll be good, I won't bother you, I can..." Leno's standing to the side in Justin's hotel room. He's disheveled from their rushed kisses, eyes all big and cheeks all pink. He's wearing gray sweatpants and he's hard, hard enough to leave a little stain on the fabric, which Justin silently appreciates while looking at his phone.

"You can what?" he asks, trying to clear some of his unread texts.

"Your leg," Leno says.

"My leg?" Justin has no idea what he's talking about.

Leno bites his bottom lip. His hair is already a mess from Justin's fingers and a little curl of satisfaction heats up in his chest. "Can I?" he asks, and it's so sweet Justin almost abandons this whole thing.

Instead, he nods without looking up from his phone.

Leno moves forward slowly, like he's waiting for Justin to tell him to stop. It's almost unbearably cute. He crawls up onto the bed. Justin is lounging against a mound of pillows, legs sprawled. He keeps his eyes on his phone, but he's not even pretending to do anything. Not when Leno is grabbing his ankle and pushing his leg until it bends, not when Leno is straddling his chin and curling to rest his cheek on his kneecap and--

"Oh jeeze," Justin mutters. He drops his phone on his chest because there's no way he's not watching this.

Leno's eyes are shut. He's grinding on Justin's leg in quick awkward humps. His whole face is red now and his mouth is hanging open and wow, he really likes this.

Justin leans up a bit, reaches for his hair. Leno moans when Justin lifts his bangs off his forehead. "Are you gonna come like that?" he asks, a little breathless, a little awed.

Leno nods. "I--I like it. It's like..." His face contorts a little bit and he seems to bite down on the words that want to spill from his lips.

Justin combs through his hair. "Tell me," he says.

Leno shudders. "Like I'm your dog. Just--stupid and desperate to get off and, and you don't even have to touch me. Not really. You can just, pet my hair and play on your phone or, or call me pretty and, um, yeah. I'm always needy and desperate and you just, you just stick your leg out and I can--unf, Justin, fuck it's so good. I can just get off and I'm so bad, but you love it."

"I love it," Justin echoes. Because he does. He's hard and wet in his boxers and Leno is starting to drool on his kneecap and he's going to come, Justin realizes. He tightens his hand in Leno's hair and flexes his leg up into Leno's cock and says, "Do it."