
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/281099.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      John_Egbert/Jake_English
  Character:
      John_Egbert, Jake_English
  Additional Tags:
      Frottage, Ectobiological_shenanigans
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-21 Words: 1296
****** Is That What The Kids Are Calling It? ******
by foolishghoul
Summary
     In which Jake gets a little more than he bargained for when he
     challenges John to a tussle, and he's perfectly 0kay with that.
Notes
     Written for a kink meme prompt regarding Jake and John wrestling,
     with some sexy shenanigans for good measure. I was very happy to
     oblige.
You are Jake English, and the situation you have found yourself in is really
rather fucking awkward. You have always been of the mind that there is no
better way to test another boy’s mettle than a good round of wrestling. Of
course, you’ve never actually met any other boys before, but who better to test
out this theory than with one John Egbert.
There’s no way a hot-blooded young scoundrel like yourself could resist a bout
of friendly horseplay when you first met with an esteemed friendleader such as
John. With all that said, you sure as shit didn’t expect him to actually beat
you. He’s just a kid, for crying out loud. Nothing more than a scamp. But there
he is, above you, pinning you down. That, by itself, wouldn’t be necessarily
awkward. Embarrassing? Yes. More than you will ever admit. But not awkward.
What is just a little bit awkward is the way that John’s making you feel…a
little more hot-blooded than usual. Maybe it’s how earnest he is. The way he
just smiles at you, face flushed, completely unaware of what may or may not be
going on below the belt.
Maybe it’s the way his god-tier outfit makes his eyes seem just that much more
blue. Or maybe it’s how he looks almost – but not quite – exactly like you. And
you have always been a pinnacle of studliness, if you do say so yourself.
“Give up yet?” He says, so close you can feel his laugh on your face. You
intend to give some pithy one-liner like, “Not on your life, kid,” and then put
him in a sleeper hold (which you could totally do), but instead of doing
anything like that you lift your head up as fast as you can, and close that gap
between his lips and yours.
You’ve always been a man of impulse.
He gasps, and pulls back like your goddamn lips were made of lightning, and
that all it takes to flip the tables. You rush forward, catch him off-guard,
and then you’re the one pinning him down. It shouldn’t get your blood racing,
but it does.
“Um. You know, when you said you wanted to ‘wrestle,’ this really wasn’t what I
had in mind.”
You say, “Change of plans,” because it’s a really cool thing to say and because
you don’t want to admit that it wasn’t what you originally had in mind, either.
You go to lay a righteous smoochdown on him, and as you lean over you shift
your hips to get more comfortable and…whoa there. It looks like you’re not the
only one who’s more than a little intrigued by this scenario. John lets out a
small, "Oh," then looks away.
“I’m not a homosexual,” he defiantly says to the wall. You just roll your eyes
and say, “Neither am I.”
He looks back at you after that with “What the heck?” written all over his
face. You decide to take some pity on him, because this conversation is getting
to be a real mood killer. “John, come on, we’re basically the same person. Just
think of me like an older, cooler version of you.”
He huffs a laugh at that. “Yeah right. Cooler. You think ‘A Knight’s Tale’ is a
good movie.”
You decide to forgo a fight about the cinematic merits of movies featuring
Heath Ledger and anachronistic soundtracks until a better time, and get back
down to the business at hand. Either he’s accepted your awesomely articulated
argument, or he’s given up on caring and decided to just fucking go with it
already, because when go to kiss him again he doesn’t fight it, and gamely
tries to kiss you back.
As far as kisses go, it’s pretty terrible. There’s too much spit, and neither
of you know what to do with your tongues. It turns out your Aayla Secura poster
was not adequate practice at all.
Still, what you both lack in technical skill you more than make up for in
enthusiasm. John’s making these grunting, groaning noises, and you’ve let up on
his arms enough that one of his hands is spread in your hair, and the other is
grabbing the back of your shirt.
You’re holding yourself up with one hand, but the other is just kind of
flitting around his side without much to do. That is, until you get what you
believe to be your single greatest idea in the history of paradox space. You
let your hand slide down his side, then move it down under the waistline of his
pants. John is holding his breath until you reach his dick and rub…when he lets
out the breath in a long, shuddering sigh.
At this point, you don’t care who’s wearing the fancy pajamas, you are
definitely a god right now. He grinds up into your hand, rubbing it into your
own dick. You let out a groan of manly aplomb, and John’s face lights up like
he’s got an idea even greater than your own. When he brings his hands down to
your waist and starts unbuttoning your pants, you really have to agree with
him. It is a great plan.
You’re saying nonsense like, “Yes, fantastic, right,” and you don’t even care,
while John’s busy gasping unintelligibly. You sink your head down onto his
shoulder, because the only hand you’ve ever had on your dick is your own, and
there’s no way that this is going to last very long at all. You take his dick
out of his pants and fit it against your own, because if you’re going down then
there’s no way you’re not going to take him down with you. He seems to
appreciate the sentiment, and soon you’re both grasping each other, rubbing
yourselves together and working toward the admirable common goal of getting
yourselves off.
You manage to settle in to a rhythm, but it doesn’t last long as John’s
movements become more erratic. He gasps, “Fuck,” his hand stutters, and that’s
about as much warning as you get before his whole body jolts and he’s coming
all over you. You really should find this whole situation a little strange, as
you’re not one to have illicit relations with paradox clones on an everyday
basis, but you really don’t. In fact, you find it so not-strange that you’re
coming seconds after him, which you are determined to only feel mildly ashamed
about afterwards. You thought you had it in you to at least last a little bit
longer as per your strapping constitution. However, today seems to be the day
for slightly embarrassing, or at least unexpected, revelations about yourself.
You roll off of John, and lie on the ground next to him. You should get up
immediately and go shower yourself off, if you wait too long clean-up is going
to be an absolute nightmare. But John doesn’t look like he’s ready to head off
yet either, and you’d like some time to catch your breath. He looks over at
you, his eyes wide, and you think, “Oh crap. Here it comes.” Instead freaking
out like you expected, he just gives you that wide, toothy smile. The one that
is almost, but not quite, your own.
“I don’t know where you learned how to wrestle, but I have to admit, it was
pretty fun!” He pulls up his pants, grimaces, and then jumps up. “I’m gonna go
take a shower. See you around, Jake!”
He practically bounces out of the room while you’re still lying on the floor.
As you get up and ready to leave, you figure your theory about testing John’s
mettle was a pretty rousing success.
You just hope he might be up for another round later.
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