Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John rolled next, a day later. 

The corner of the kitchen counter jabbed into Smitty's front as he leaned against it. The dice rolled away from John's hands and bounced across the surface, eventually both landing on a six. John looked down at his phone and consulted the list, scrolling until he found the location for the number twelve. 

The beach. 

John rifled around in the bowl of small bits of papers and took one out that read ‘V is for Victory’. Smitty hadn't heard of it before, but John explained that it was basically missionary, except Smitty would have to hold up John's legs to create a ‘V’ shape. 

Consider Smitty's interest thoroughly piqued. 

“Boy am I glad this one came up early,” John began, collecting up the two dice and placing them beside the bowl. “I did not want to fuck on a freezing beach.” 

“It's September, it's still going to be cold.” 

John's brows jumped up and down suggestively as he smiled wide. “Less people, too.” 

\ꕥ/

“I told you, you didn't have to wear it,” he said as John wiggled in the passenger seat for the umpteenth time. He wasn't sure whether it was because of discomfort or to stimulate himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed John adjusting the front of his shorts, so it was probably the latter. 

“I know, but it'll benefit us both.” 

John had worn butt plugs a couple of times before; either in preparation for sex later in the day, or some risky business around friends. Although they didn’t do the latter very often, Smitty would constantly be giggling to himself whenever he caught John wincing, because he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. It was their secret that none of their friends seemed to have noticed. 

Dog walkers, joggers and the occasional family littered the sand, presumably hoping to catch the sunset. Smitty had a feeling he would miss it this night. 

“You sure you want to go for a walk with that in?” 

“Yes. I can just hang off your arm when I feel like I’m about to faint from the overwhelming pleasure.” 

“Ok-ay,” Smitty said, the second half of the word coming out high-pitched as if to mean, ‘don't say I didn't tell you’. 

They started down one direction of the beach, with the intention of turning back at a certain point to grab the things they'd need from the car. John's hand slipped into his as they both took those unbalanced steps across the soft sand. Soon enough, John pointed down at the ground, providing a running commentary of the different shells they walked past. But never bending down to pick any of them up, like Smitty assumed. It would have been a very John thing for John to do. Smitty chalked it up to not wanting to shift the plug inside him too much. 

It was surprisingly warm for an evening in September, even as the sky began to change colour above them. The waves lapped gently to Smitty's right, and John chatted away to his left. Smitty wanted nothing more at that moment. He was watching the most beautiful time of the day occur with the most beautiful person by his side. 

Eventually, they came across a groyne that neither of them felt like climbing over - the ones they'd passed up until then had been easy to step over. 

But before they began the walk back, John toed off his shoes and asked Smitty to pick them up for him. They strolled back to the car hand in hand, both silently observing that the number of people about had decreased significantly. Smitty had been thinking that it would probably be less risky to do it once the sun had set, but at the same time, he realised that it'd be far more romantic to fuck in front of the sunset. 

And hope to the gods they didn't get caught. 

John was positively buzzing with excitement as Smitty popped open the boot and lifted out the bag they'd packed before leaving the house. It included the essentials: lube, a couple of large beach towels, as well as a bit of Tupperware to put the plug in and keep it sand-free. They had also thought to bring a cushion, which John stuck under one arm. 

There were only about half a dozen vehicles left in the car park as they ventured back onto the sand to find the perfect spot, going the opposite direction to the way they'd gone before. The beach stretched far and wide, so the likelihood of someone stumbling upon them was very little. At least, that's what Smitty told himself. 

They found an opening at the base of a tall sand dune, with tall wisps of grass on either side, and a clear view of the ocean and the sinking sun. The tide was low and far away from them, but the sound of the lapping waves was amplified against the nothingness of the evening air. 

Their stage - though, hopefully not literally - was ready after a few minutes. Smitty had been happy to set it up by himself whilst John stood there looking pretty. An ethereal glow from the dying sunlight got cast over him. And Smitty had to stop what he was doing to take a photo of him. A few photos. About ten or so. 

John shimmied out of his shorts without a word, laying down on the towels but sitting up on his elbows. Smitty was wearing trousers, which he too took off. They agreed to keep the top half of their clothing on, for two reasons. One: there was a chill in the air. And two: there would be less to put on if they heard someone coming. Smitty tended to keep his shirt on anyway when they had sex, but John loved it whenever Smitty would practically worship his body, showing a deep reverence for him. 

Smitty swiftly knelt down on the blanket in between John's bent up legs, sliding his hands from John's calves up to his knees. He gently spread them apart, catching the purple shade of the plug in his peripheral. John was already semi-hard as he laid there in front of him. 

Smitty sat up and leaned over John to kiss him, resting one hand by John's head, the other he used to cup his warm cheek. He gradually sank back onto his ankles as he bunched up the other's t-shirt and trailed more kisses across John's chest; taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking with fervour until John was a moaning mess. His hand fisted in Smitty's hair to guide him further down south. Smitty planted sloppy kisses over John's stomach, before he was finally sat on his ankles again. 

“You ready?” he asked, tugging at the plug until it slipped free and placed it in the Tupperware at the bottom of the bag. For a few seconds after, Smitty just stared unabashed at the way John's hole clenched around nothing. His cock began to swell at the sight. 

John hummed and laid on his back properly, then said, “I don't think I'll last long, just so you know.” Smitty really didn't mind, so long as John had at least one orgasm. Even better if he could go a second time. 

A dollop of lube was spread across Smitty's cock; he wiped his slippery fingers across John's awaiting hole. Smitty angled his cock towards it, slowly pushing in about halfway before reaching for John's legs and lifting them up by the ankles. 

“It's a good thing I’m flexible, isn't it?” John said with an impudent smile. Smitty just shook his head, lips pressed together in a smile of his own. 

A wave crashed against the sand behind him as he pressed in the rest of the way. 

John's back arched up off the blanket as Smitty bottomed out inside him; his legs tried to bend but Smitty kept a firm hold on them. “God, that is deep.” Smitty glanced up at him and asked what he meant. “The website said something about this position being good for going pretty deep.” 

Smitty hummed something high-pitched and thoughtful, and shuffled his knees forwards some more, pushing in impossibly closer. John released a surprised, yet thoroughly aroused moan at the motion. He'd hit the spot. 

“Feels like you're in my fucking stomach, dude.” His voice was slightly shaky. 

Smitty realised it was going to be all in the hips with this one and began to rock against him. He took it slow, like they always did, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remained inside, before pushing all the way back in. Each time, making sure to press in as far as he could and hitting the spot that had John seeing galaxies. 

At one point, only a few thrusts in, Smitty lost his grip on John's ankles, whose legs flopped downwards. But John didn't seem to care or even notice, his face scrunched up with pleasure. Smitty swiftly scooped his hands under John's calves, curling his arms around so he was effectively hugging John's legs to his sides. 

After the ninth, maybe the tenth thrust, Smitty noticed John's abdomen spasming, a tell-tale sign that John was on the edge. 

“Are you close?” he asked, keeping his rhythm. 

“I've been close for the past hour,” John retorted, albeit weakly. “But yes.” 

Smitty didn't respond, and instead let go of one of John's legs, letting it rest on his shoulder, to take John's cock in hand. A gentle squeeze and John stifled a moan, digging his head further into the cushion. A thumb swiping across the slit and John came, groaning at a volume that was far too loud for being in ‘public’. Thank god they'd done this at the least busy time of the day. 

He'd just come largely untouched and if that wasn't the hottest fucking thing Smitty had ever witnessed. 

The moment replayed in Smitty's mind. That, combined with the tightening around his cock from John's orgasm and the slick slide, sent him over the edge half a minute later, emptying his load deep into John's ass. The other squirmed again at the depth. 

Smitty lowered John's limbs back onto the ground, then pulled his cock from the heat into the evening chill. A shiver ran up his spine. 

Through light pants, John said, “Put the plug back in.” 

The idea had Smitty's dick jerking a little with curiosity. “What, really?” 

“Yes.” Smitty wasn't about to argue with that and pressed his thumb against John's loose hole, some of his spend attempting to drip out, so he applied some pressure and pushed it back inside. He grabbed the plug from the Tupperware and slid it in with ease. John sighed blissfully as he did so. 

“Fuck, that's hot,” Smitty said, allowing his thoughts to verbalise. 

John laughed tiredly and sat up further. “Damn right. Now help me stand, peasant.”