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No. 58512
OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD OH MY GOD!!!
Found this in my LJ inbox (from like 2 days ago) From the Kink meme! Needless to say it I love it!.
"It's Not an Obsession"
By Anonymous
Daken doesn't like Johnny.
Let's just make that clear first and foremost. Despite the growing amount of time they're starting to spend around each other, Daken does not like Johnny Storm. If anything, he rather hates the man. Or at least just about everything the man stands for.
Now, the thing is, Johnny doesn't really like Daken.
Not really. He finds Daken infuriating and frustrating and he can never quite bring himself to trust anyone who's worked for Norman Osborn, no matter what they might say to the contrary. But he is fascinated by Daken and that right there might be the heart of the entire problem, because Daken knows Johnny's fascinated. Entranced... Maybe a little obsessed. Just a little.
Just enough to call him and ask if he wants to go out and party. Not that he does it often. ...Very often... Every other night, maybe and every encounter just ends with him even more infuriated and frustrated and hard, because Daken's spent the entire night with that stupid little insinuating, smug, holier-than-thou smirk. And he hates it because that smirk comes with those little sideways, under-his-stupidly-long-eyelashes looks and a slight brush of his thigh against Johnny's when Daken leans against the bar next to him and... Johnny knows.
Johnny knows what's going to happen, way down in his bones, just like he can see Daken knows. They both know it's going to be one of those nights. When they part ways, Daken can already feel his pulse start to pick up a little. Because even with their odd mutal dislike, there's still a thrill to this. Still a thrill to suddenly have Johnny Fucking Storm pressing you into an alley and groaning his way into a kiss. And it's certainly not like he doesn't expect it, oh no. He knows exactly how much of those little sub concious nudges Johnny needs before he starts thinking about Daken's body.
Daken will give him some credit. The man is very good at sex. And there is something bizarrely arousing about the scent of fire and his too-hot skin. Daken slams him against the wall, kissing him, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. Johnny just groans and spreads his legs like the good boy he is and grabs Daken's ass, grinding against him.
"Impatient as always, Johnny," Daken purrs, hands already sliding into the back of Johnny's pants and pushing a thigh in between Johnny's spread legs and...
All right, so there is one thing Daken likes about Johnny and it has a lot to do with moments like this: Letting Johnny twist them around so that Daken's back is against the wall, leaning heavily against him as Daken teases his fingers back farther and farther, grinding against the thigh between his legs. Pressing into him nice and slow, barely any sweat and Johnny is almost painfully hot inside, but Daken takes him just like that anyway.
Because really when you have Johnny Storm, the golden playboy of the Fantastic Four, rutting against you and practically begging to be fingered in an alley, you'd have to be mad to let that go. And while Daken is most assuredly not sane, he knows he will never be so far gone as to give this opportunity up.
"O-oh God."
Daken smiles and traces the curve of Johnny's ear with tip of his tongue and edge his teeth. "Exactly."
And Johnny is nothing like a woman, even when Daken fucks him like this. He makes no pretense of care or tenderness, holding on to Daken hard enough to leave bruises, biting any exposed skin he can find, sometimes breaking the skin and growling at the taste of blood and the feeling of the small cuts closing up against his tongue and lips. Rocking until he comes, groaning and shuddering.
Daken loves those moments. He can recognize in himself a desire for power and the seduction of corrupting something good and he never feels more at the height of all of that than when he feels Johnny gasping and coming in his pants like some horny needy virgin. Savoring the moment when he can into Johnny's dazed, flushed expression and knowning in that moment, he could own this man completely. At that moment, even the little push his pheremones give him aren't needed.
But then an odd thing always happens. The moment will pass and Johnny's satisfied adoration will turn into a feirce glare and he'll... just drop. No pretense, no seduction, just on his knees and yanking open Daken's pants, already too rough. And always, always that little pause when he has his too hot hand around Daken and is glaring up at him, his lips already brushing the head.
"I could make you beg for it," says Johnny. The hand not around Daken's cock is already sliding back oh so insinuatingly behind Daken's balls.
Daken smiles and slides his hands into Johnny's hair. The touch is tender and feels all the more wrong for it. "But you won't."
The glare seems to intensify for a minute, then Johnny takes his hand off Daken's cock, waits just that one moment long enough for Daken to actually start to miss the touch before Johnny takes him and the way down. And God, the first time they did this, it had been over just like that. Daken's pride still stings a bit from that, even if he's decided it was one of those rare instances where he simply hadn't been prepared and surely next time, he would put Johnny in his place.
But oh, it's hard to remember... Hot, wet mouth, clever tongue and god, just the slightest catch of teeth. One of these days, Daken is going to find out exactly where Johnny learned to give head and personally make sure it's published on every gossip rag circulating the United States and Europe and maybe parts of Asia if he can get pictures of this. Johnny Storm on his knees, sucking cock like he was made for nothing but this dirty, destructive kind of sex. Ruin him till he has no one to turn to, but Daken.
The idea is intoxicating.
And he always attributes that for the reason he comes so quickly. Not the two fingers shoved (fucked) roughly into him or the precise scrape of teeth up the length of his cock or the sudden and noticable heat increase. He ignores the tremble in his hands and the fading weakness in his knees as he tucks himself back in and zips up his pants. He covers up his own glare with a coy expression, pointedly ignoring that damned knowingly smug look in Johnny's eyes when he stands. He's more than a little vindicated when he leans close again to brush against what he can see is Johnny's own quickly returning errection.
"Shall we continue this discussion at my place?" Daken offers smoothly.
This is another part of it. This is where Johnny makes up some fumbling, embarrassed excuse and flies off into the night with one more win for Daken. Tonight is different. Tonight the man stuffs his hands in his jeans and rocks back a little on his heels, studying Daken.
"What would you do if I said yes." It's not really a question. Daken cocks an eyebrow at him, but that odd, thoughtful expression doesn't disappear, Johnny merely insists, "Seriously. I want to know."
Fuck you until you cry is the first answer that comes to mind. Until the only thing you think about is me is the second and several variations follow shortly. "I wasn't aware we were taking out relationship to the next level, Johnny."
Johnny snorts. "There's nothing between us, but hot sex and mind games. And neither of us is going to break it off, for one reason or another, but at least I'm able to admit that I'm obsessed with you. That's more than you're capable of."
"I would hardly say I'm obsessed with you, Johnny, flattering as it is to know you think of me so frequently." Daken's playing it off, cool and suave as ever, but inside he's beginning to feel a little unsettled by all of this. Where had this sudden burst of insightful maturity come from? Surely he hadn't underestimated Johnny's intelligence. Johnny looks at him a moment longer with that unsettling expression, then shakes his head, as if he's the one who feels sorry for Daken.
"I'll talk to you later." Then he's gone in a blaze of fire, not even bothering to step back far enough not to blast Daken with the sudden heat. And Daken... He isn't shaken. He simply isn't. Perhaps unsettled. Tonight is, he's sure, a victory, but one much less easily defined and it chafes him a little. Next time, he decided, it would be different. After all, he had the advantage now. Now he knew Johnny was obsessed with him, that all those little subtle seductions all playing their role up to the much larger scheme. Reassured, Daken headed back to his flat, entertaining a few favored fantasies as he went.
If you had asked him why he was so focused on this, he couldn't have given you a straight answer. Really all it came down to was power, Johnny was just a stepping stone and he certainly wasn't obsessed. It was a tactile advantage to have a man like Johnny Storm indentured to him. After all, it wasn't as though Daken liked the man.
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