Archive of Our Own ^beta

One click. A door opens. Strong hands grab Jared around the waist, dragging him into a room. Fortunately, everyone is at the pool party, and no one hears the embarrassing scream that leaves Jared's lips. The door closes. His back hits the wall—hard enough to provoke another not-so-manly scream—before a familiar tongue invades Jared's mouth. He needs a few seconds to get into the rhythm and kiss back with the same frantic urgency. A hand clenches in his hair, keeping Jared's head at the desired angle, while the other ends up on his ass, solid and possessive. He grinds his crotch against his 'attacker' in search of that much-needed friction, and his hands drift to the backs of broad shoulders, gripping the soft material of a shirt, which serves to anchor Jared through the sudden fuzziness that makes him want more.

The kiss ends just as abruptly as it started. Frustrated by the interruption, Jared groans at the loss of that mouth, "Matt!"

"You son of a bitch. What the fuck was that?" Matt snarls into Jared's face and there’s that jealous gleam in his eyes, one Jared's seen a lot of times and that means he's going to get fucked like there's no tomorrow within a matter of minutes.

Jared frowns in confusion.

"What are—"

The big hand squeezes his buttock.

"Don't play the fool with me, dude. I saw your hand on her ass.

"Ah—that?"

"Yeah. THAT."

Matt's hand practically takes possession of Jared’s buttock in its kneading and rubbing, not at all resembling the quick caress of Jared's hand on top of his wife's ass.

"PR, babe. I need to prove I'm straight beyond any doubt," Jared says with a smile, caressing the expanse of the tense back.

"Bullshit! I also saw Justin groping your boobs and Kat clinging to your waist. And you seemed overly comfortable with both."

Jared rolls his eyes.

"That's called socialization."

"Socialization my ass."

Jared's ass is the only thing under intense manipulation right now, anyway. Having no idea when Matt unzipped his dress pants, he moans when those soft hands knead his ass cheeks. The contact is much more pleasant without the barrier of clothes, and it’s like throwing oil on a fire, the touches sending off sparks of pleasure in all the right places in Jared’s body. Still, it's not enough. He needs Matt. Here in this room and while everyone else is celebrating Matt's wedding.

"Possessive bastard," Jared practically purrs, torn between Matt's hands and the insufficient friction against his groin.

"I fucking hate it when other people touch my property," he growls before those lips find the sensitive skin of Jared's neck.

Jared's heart pounds pretty hard in his chest and his body hums with desire, a low tiny whimpering noise making itself known in response. He feels all kinds of crazy with such possessiveness. It's an incredible feeling knowing someone like Matt is that worked up over him.

Matt laughs but doesn't stop nibbling and licking Jared's neck, the sensual mouth and soft beard making goosebumps break out all over Jared’s body, and he finally manages to demand, "Matt, c'mon."

When a hand moves where Jared wants it, Matt lets go of his neck and looks up in wide-eyed surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you today?"

"You get me horny dressed all in white like this,” Jared practically purrs because it's the word that best describes the soft sound of contentment that comes out of his mouth and all while he pushes his ass against Matt's fingers. A knowing smirk twists that sexy mouth, and Jared feels the butt plug being pulled out of him until its head is nearly out of his body before Matt shoves the toy right back in again. "Fuck!"

"When did you put it?" Matt asks, his eyes burning with bright lust.

"While you said your vows," Jared murmurs and has to bite his bottom lip when the pressure against his prostate is almost too much.

"You filthy, cock-hungry little bitch."

Jared's hands move down Matt's back and grip the firm ass to help with the grinding.

"Pound my ass with your huge fucking cock," he demands.

Matt moves his left hand to Jared's jaw as the other continues twisting the toy around, fucking him. There are a few seconds of scrutiny and then the realization. "You planned all of this," he accuses despite the satisfaction Jared can hear in the raspy voice. "Your wife, Kat, Justin. Mere pawns in your master's game to get me riled up and fuck your slutty hole here at my own wedding party."

Biting his bottom lip again, Jared tries the famous puppy dog eyes, which doesn't work because of the inevitable moan that escapes his throat when Matt rotates the toy inside him.

"Slut. Do you know what you need? Someone to put you in your place. And you know how I'm going to do that?" Jared doesn't bother to answer because the question is rhetorical anyway, more worried about the insufficient stimuli he is receiving right now. "With my huge cock fucking your tight hole until it's a sopping mess."

Jesus. He's going to lose it before Matt's cock is even inside him.

Always attentive to Jared's reactions, Matt grunts, "Don't you dare! You're gonna come while I'm fucking you."

"Fuck you, asshole."

Smug satisfaction radiates from Matt and is almost palpable. "It's not what we like, right? And we both know you wouldn't even know what to do with my ass. Your ass on the other hand—"

"Well, I think Justin would be willing to—"

The hand on Jared's jaw tightens. Matt's emotions change as fast as the wings of a hummingbird, and Jared can see jealousy pouring off him in waves in the way he clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes. But then Matt's mouth is on Jared’s again. He licks into it and bites Jared’s bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside him like he's starving for him. Jared sucks hungrily on Matt’s tongue, not caring about the added taste of blood mixed with sparkling wine this time.

Possessive motherfucker.

Within seconds Jared's incoherent with need, rubbing against Matt's body like a bitch in heat. Thankfully, Matt pulls away from the kiss then and leads them toward the couch. The transition is frantic, neither of them moving away from the other, even as clothes are pushed out of the way to allow access to the body parts that matter. Matt manhandles Jared’s body with the same efficiency he would have handled a girl half his size, which is always a turn-on for Jared. And a smug little smirk is the last thing he sees before he's bent over the arm of the sofa, his weight dropped onto his forearms and ass in the air obscenely, bare and open and an invitation that will not be refused.

Jared just waits like a good boy, permitting Matt to do whatever the fuck he wants with his body, mostly because he knows how much his submission drives Matt crazy. It’s a win-win situation. And his good behavior is rewarded when warm hands touch his buttocks again.

"I love your obsession with jockstraps."

"Easy access."

"Yeah."

"And they are comfortable."

"I think I prefer a little fabric over my butt."

"But not on my butt, right?"

"Exactly."

"Hmm, it would be a shame to hide it from the world,” Jared teases.

The slap is predictable, as is the hand grabbing Jared's left hip.

And that is the man Jared has come to love these last three years. Determined. Always in control. But also lighthearted and passionate. He’s a perfect counterpoint to Jared, who prefers his partner in charge. Prefers to let go and allow someone else to be responsible for his pleasure. It's so easy not to think about what to do, about what better way to please. Besides, he's happy being in control of his professional career, thank you so much. And that's enough.

"It's going to be a shame for you to go back outside without being able to sit down after I'm done with you."

One. Two. Three. Four. Changes buttocks. Repeats.

When Matt's finally satisfied, Jared's ass cheeks burn, and he knows they are pink now, a color that probably rivals the one causing the heat he feels in his neck and face. Sweat pours out of him. Still, his cock is hard and leaking pre-come. And thank goodness he chose a jockstrap that's easy to access his cock. All he has to do is unfasten the two small metal clips to allow the opening of the pouch that cradles his junk and voilà—his cock is free to rub against the side of the sofa.

The next thing Jared feels is the butt plug leaving the confinement of his body, but the act immediately triggers that need to feel something inside him again. Without preamble, two fingers slide into him as easily as a knife through butter and it's a relief to have some real action in his hole, which has been twitching in need since Jared was grabbed in the hallway.

"Open and wet and ready for me to take whenever I want,” Matt says in a voice filled with certainty.

Those fingers disappear, and then there's the sliding of hot flesh between Jared's ass cheeks—oh fuck. No matter how many times they do this, his heart beats a little faster in those exact seconds before penetration. And the sweet pain of expectation ends when Matt lines himself up and starts pushing inside, sliding home in one long, torturously slow thrust. And this is as it should be: Matt buried deep inside Jared and fucking taking what he wants. And oh God, does it feel marvelous.

The initial impulses are brutal, and Jared's grateful to have prepared himself earlier. Soon, so damn soon, he’s panting, mouth open, even though Matt is the only one doing all the work. The strong hands grabbing Jared’s waist keep him in place while Matt practically rearranges his interiors. Jared doesn't have much leverage in this position and loses the battle to stay in his forearms, digging his shoulders into the sofa. Each snap of those powerful hips punches breathy moans out of Jared's mouth as he tries not to drown in pleasure. It's just the right side of perfect, but it doesn’t stop him from missing that hairy chest against his back. Missing the weight of Matt. Missing all that firm skin covering Jared in a way that no one has been able before. But now is not the time for that, not when there are at least two hundred guests at Matt's wedding party.

Fuck, fuck, Jared's face goes slack with pleasure because he's an incoherent mess, forgetting he should make as little noise as possible.

"Noisy bitch, but that's what you want, right? Want everyone out there to hear you moan like a whore while split open on my dick."

Yes and no. Though he'd like all eyes on him while he's fucked within an inch of his life, he'd surely hate the same eyes ogling what belongs to him. And he's pretty sure Matt feels the same way despite the words coming out of his mouth.

Well, two can play this game.

"Maybe I'll invite the WIndy cast to watch next time."

"You prick!” Matt's voice is breathy, and Jared smiles smugly to find he's not the only one falling apart. “If you're still coherent, I must not be doing my job right." Jared laughs, writhes, and tries to thrust back without success. "Fucking gonna pound you so hard you can't walk tomorrow."

Jared is still grinning like an idiot when sweaty hands grab his wrists and proceed to move and cross them behind his back. Jesus Christ! A new wave of heat pulses through him and he's so fucking full like this, and he lets out low groans with each impact of Matt's hips.

Unaware of the rest of the world, Jared groans louder, urging Matt on with words that fall from his lips in disconnected succession: “harder”, “no”, “like that”, “Oh God”, “you fucker”, “right there”, “yeah”. And then Matt authorizes, “Come for me, Jay.” And he is—fuck yeah—he is coming and absurdly hard as he spills his cum against the side of the sofa and clamps tight around the cock fucking him, Matt's name like a prayer on his lips. In response, Matt's hips stutter, but Jared's still gasping for air when Matt goes back to plunge into his ass even harder. Fucked out and boneless, Jared lets Matt ride him through it, lets him hammer his ass until he's the one crying out Jared's name as he shoots off into his wrecked hole.

Afterwards, Jared comes back to Earth languidly, becoming aware of how loose and well-used his body feels. He sighs contentedly, and Matt's looking right at him when he manages to open his eyes—smug and smiling. Fucker. Somehow, he's immaculately dressed again, and except for the sweat breaking out on his neck, he doesn't look like he's just finished a session of intense sex.

Jared, meanwhile, is still bent over the couch, fucked out, and exposed. At least his arms rest limply at his sides, but it doesn't stop the discomfort of the cool air-conditioning on his bare ass and the sticky mess between his buttocks.

“Are you going to stay there until Justin comes back to his room and finds you and the mess you made on the couch?”

“Shit,” he says, and should be embarrassed about how his voice cracks, but there are more important things to worry about right now, like the real possibility of someone finding him in such an indecent disposition.

Matt huffs out a laugh, but he gives Jared a peck on the lips and gets up from his crouched position before touching Jared’s shoulder.

“Come on, big baby.”

"You'll be the death of me."

"Not so soon, Mr. Executive Producer. I still have many plans for you."

"I hope they involve a certain part of your anatomy."

“Definitely!”