Awesome Fanfictions

Tongue Piercings and Asthma Attacks (2)(TehChaos)

The request I delayed on, and I found that I had promised a second part to a real beauty I had written awhile ago. So I'm felling two birds with one stone. 

John was having another asthma attack, shit, he could feel it creeping up on him. He pushes his way past people, sweat gathering at his temples as he shoved his way into the guys' bathroom. He launched himself into a stall and shut it behind him, tearing his inhaler from his pocket. One puff, two puff, three puff, calm. He coughs slightly at the chemicals he had just inhaled, but steadied his breathing, counting backwards from fifteen. He had just reached eight when the door swung open. John froze, before scrambling to flush the toilet, pausing, and then exiting the stall. 

Anthony stood in the doorway, looking charming and breathtaking in the nice tuxedo he had nicked from their friend Tom, who was in college, and still had the thing from his own prom night. That's right, John's mind butts in, prom night. You're at prom with one of the hottest guys on campus. He smiles weakly at Anthony, and smooths the front of his own tuxedo down. It's a little big on him, because it was his brother's, who had always been just a bit bigger than him.        

"Hey champ, you feeling okay?"

Anthony's voice breaks John out of his haze, as does the arm sliding around his waist. Wow, he's a lot closer than John had realised. 

"I'm okay,"

John stammers, flushing pink as he looked up at Anthony.

"You freaked out when you saw Evan, is it still that bad?"

Anthony's voice-- Anthony's-- is soothing, smooth as silk in John's ear. The shorter becomes very much aware of how much more dim the bathroom lights are than he had previously thought. 

"The wound's still fresh, you know?"

John mumbles, and Anthony's swaying them gently in tune to the music that's muffled by the thick, probably titanium bathroom door. John's heart is beating so loud, he's almost positive that Anthony can hear it, even over the music thumping in sync within his sternum. Suddenly, he's pulled much closer, and Anthony's lips are against his forehead as they pivot slowly.

"Stop thinking so loud,"

Anthony coos, and John fucking melts against him, eyes hooded slightly. The music shifts, though John's not sure on what the music had even been before what it is now, and if it had even shifted, or if it was playing the same track the entire time and that he was just taking the time to notice it just now-- 

There are lips against his, and that's what startles him enough to silence his buzzing thoughts. He makes a muted noise of shock, but his lips are already melding easily against Anthony's, moving together against his in an unfamiliar dance that yet, they've had so many times since their first one three, four years ago. 

The hot, slick tongue against his bottom lip is what makes him whimper, lips parting and giving, so giving as Anthony slides it along his own, their breaths intermingling and losing themselves in each other's. John thinks- knows he could die like this, feeling so connected to Anthony as he does now, lips plump and practically humming just under the skin with such electric desire--

That stupidly enticing, lewd tongue piercing clicks against his top row of teeth, causing chills to rack him and force him to clutch at Anthony in order to stay grounded. His knees feel weak, and he feels like he's having another asthma attack, but one that's so delightfully pleasurable that doesn't constrict his chest and make him reach for his inhaler. 

He realises Anthony is his inhaler, as the Italian pulls back for breath, and smirks at John, even as the two of them are gulping for air. John's face is flushed red, his tux slightly wrinkled in the front, his hair askew. Anthony puts both back into order, and John kisses his brow. He feels weightless, powerful, like he could do anything while Anthony held him and adored him. 

John is smiling as Anthony leads him out of the bathroom by the hand to join the dancing couples. HIs mood isn't even slightly dampened by the disgusted looks Evan throws at him, his smile so bright and happy that it's rubbing off on Anthony, who swings him and focuses on him like John is the centre of his universe.

John is. 

And John's body sings as Anthony carries him to his car and plops him down in the backseat, the radio blaring some love song as he drives them to their special spot. The city lights fade as Anthony drives carefully to the one quiet spot in their noisy home. Their very own cliffspot, where only the stars and the moon are there to witness their love, and how Anthony looks at John with such adoration as he pushes him down in the backseat. 

And Anthony sings praise and worships John's body, leaving no inch untouched and unkissed, and John is near sobbing when Anthony finally pushes home, his noises lost in the tangle John's black hair has become. John thinks he will cry out of sheer love as Anthony fucks him in the backseat of his car, as the city lights glow from a distance, and the stars pin the inky black sky in place. 

He does, and Anthony kisses his tear stained cheeks, his aftercare just as sweet as their intercourse, tongue sweeping over the planes of John's skin, that stupidly addictive piercing rolling over John's angles and definite lack of curves easily. It gives him chills, and John finds that when he's here, with Anthony, sweating and panting, he's never breathed clearer.