Toss and Turn, I spin and learn,
"Catch yourself before you burn."


"You want me to do what?" Joe's just gotten out of the shower, and he tilts his head to make sure he doesn't have water in his ears.

Dylan raises an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"Yes!" Joe shouts. He glances at the door and lowers his voice. "I can't do that!"

"Can't or won't?"

Dylan isn't stupid. Joe wants to smack him for pretending to be. "I'm not supposed to..."

"You're not supposed to fuck me. I know."

"Jesus--will you keep it down?" At least Dylan waited until they were home for summer vacation to ask; Joe shudders to think of having this conversation in the dorms.

Dylan runs a hand through his hair. "I don't see what the big deal is, honestly. I just want to know what it feels like. I mean obviously, you like it."

Joe buries his face in his hands. "I know you're incapable of remembering this, Dylan, but I'm a body-slave. I'm supposed to like getting fucked. It's my job. You're my master, and masters don't bottom."

"I could order you to fuck me," Dylan points out.

Joe rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You couldn't order a fucking pizza and you know it. Feel free to try, though." He folds his arms across his chest and glares at his master. They both manage to keep straight faces for about ten seconds before they start cracking up.

"Seriously, though," Dylan says when he can breathe again. "I really do want to, but if you're not interested..."

Passive-aggressive much? Joe sighs. "It's not that, you know it. I just....we're already doing all of this wrong--as your Dad is so fond of telling me--and if anyone finds out, I'll be the one who gets in trouble."

The problem is that Joe--or at least his dick--is rather interested in the idea of fucking Dylan. He's always liked it in class when he gets a chance to fuck one of the other guys, although he's careful not to act like he's too into it. Dylan's hot, and he has a pretty nice ass; Joe knows he could make it good.

"No one's going to find out," Dylan tells him, getting up from his desk to join Joe on the bed. He's naked, which is distracting and in Joe's opinion, entirely unfair. "C'mon, Joe. If it doesn't work, we never do it again and we don't have to ever talk about it." He rests his head on Joe's thigh and looks up, blue eyes wide. "Please?"

"You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?" Joe says, shaking his head. "Quit with the big-eyes thing; if you really want me to roll you over, I will."

Dylan grins. "I really do." He sits up so he can wrap his arms around Joe's neck and kiss him. Dylan's a fantastic kisser, but it's a little weird because it's not something that most guys their age are into.

Then again, we've already established that Dylan's a freak. But he's a good kind of freak.

"So...." Dylan says when he pulls back. "How do you want me?"

"You'll probably be more comfortable on your stomach," Joe tells him. He grabs the lube out of the nightstand drawer; not that anyone in the house doesn't know they're fucking, but he likes to be tidy. "Just...try to relax, okay? I'll be as careful as I possibly can, but it may hurt a little at first. If you want me to stop at any point, say so and I will." He pours some lube into his hand and slowly works a finger into Dylan.

Dylan gasps and squirms a little, and if Joe wasn't already hard, he'd definitely be now. It's a bit of a head rush, especially when he adds a second finger and angles his hand so he can reach Dylan's prostate and Dylan moans.

"Relax," Joe whispers, admiring the lines of Dylan's body as he arches off the bed. Definitely not the skinny little kid I first met who got winded running a hundred meters and looked like he hadn't seen the sun in his entire life. He strokes Dylan's back with his free hand. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

"I know," Dylan says, sounding breathless. "I just..."

Joe nuzzles the back of Dylan's neck, just below his hairline. The trainers always tell them to put their masters' needs first, but he often wonders if this weird sense of protectiveness toward Dylan that he's felt lately is really what they mean.

"Is this okay?" he asks. Dylan huffs a laugh into the sheets.

"That was a trick question, right?"

I'll take that as a yes. "Let's try one more finger then." Joe stops when he feels Dylan tensing up.

"I'm fine. Feels a little strange from this end is all. Good, though," he adds quickly.

Joe smiles. "It's about to get even better, trust me." He fucks Dylan with his fingers until he starts moaning again, and Joe decides they're as ready as they'll ever be. Adding a little more lube, he braces himself with one hand on the bed and carefully pushes his dick into his master's ass.

Dylan's hot and tight around him, and it feels absolutely incredible. "If you sit back a little--yeah, hands and knees, just like that--I can get a better angle," he says, wrapping an arm around Dylan. "I've got you."

Joe waits for a moment to let him get used to the sensation before he starts rocking his hips against Dylan, who's making whimpering noises and clutching the sheets. Having him like this, spread out under him and needing this just as much as Joe does is a serious head rush, and Joe thinks he gets why slaves aren't supposed to do this to their masters.

He has a sudden urge to bite the back of Dylan's neck, but even for them that's pushing the line, so Joe contents himself with kissing and licking him everywhere he can reach. He forces himself to take it slowly--or at least he does until Dylan looks over his shoulder and growls, "More." That's an order Joe's happy to follow.

"So you like this, huh?" he says, snapping his teeth shut on the word "slut." Yeah, we don't want to do this too often. Last thing I need is to get used to it.

Dylan comes almost as soon as Joe touches his dick; Joe slams into him hard a couple of times before he comes too. He slumps over Dylan's back, panting for a second, and rolls over onto his side and pulls Dylan with him.

"Does it...when I'm doing you, does it feel that good? For you, I mean," Dylan says.

Because it's Dylan and he really wants to know, Joe gives him an honest answer. "Yeah, usually. You don't have to be so careful with me all of the time, though--I kind of like it hard."

"You just like me having to do all the work," Dylan retorts, but he's smiling and looking mellow, so it's okay.

Joe reaches down and grabs one of the stack of towels he keeps by the bed so he can clean them both up a bit. Dylan's a cuddler and he actually likes it when Joe stays in bed with him, so that's what Joe does. The fact that it pisses Master Neal off to come in and find the two of them spooned up together is just a bonus.

As usual, Dylan is asleep and snoring within a minute. Having been trained not to pass out after sex (in case there's anything his master requires), Joe's wide awake. Everything's going around in his head like hamsters on speed: Dylan damn near begging Joe to fuck him; Dylan stroking Joe's hair as he kisses him; Dylan moaning and shoving back against Joe as if he were the trained body slave.

Dylan not caring that they're breaking all the rules.

Too bad I still have to care. The thought is so bitter Joe imagines he can taste it in the back of his throat, but's not Dylan's fault that he wants Joe to be something he can't. He closes his eyes, buries his face in Dylan's hair and tries to get some sleep.

-end-

Notes: This is set sometime during the summer between Dylan's sophomore and junior year in high school. Dylan is 16; Joe's 15.

There's a line that is borrowed from the SGA second season episode "Condemned". The title is a line from--you guessed it--an Indigo Girls song, "Center Stage". 

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