Work Text:
The blue light from the television flickered across the living room, casting long, rhythmic shadows over the stacks of vinyl records and half-empty coffee mugs.
John was slumped back against the armrest, his thick arm draped over Javier’s shoulders, pulling him into the heat of his side. Javier’s head resting on John’s chest, the soft fabric of his undershirt bunched up where John’s fingers absentmindedly traced the line of his jaw.
For a long time, the only sound was the muffled dialogue of some old noir film they weren't really watching. John’s heart was steady beneath Javier’s ear, but lately, it had been skipping a beat whenever the room went quiet like this. He had something on his mind—something that had been simmering since the last time they’d tangled the sheets together two nights ago.
"Javi?" John’s voice was a low rumble, vibrating through his ribcage.
"Yeah, John?" Javier shifted slightly, his dark eyes looking up, hooded and sleepy. He looked soft in the dim light, the sharp lines of his goatee well-groomed, his hair a messy halo against John’s white tee.
John cleared his throat, his gaze fixed stubbornly on a chipped piece of paint on the far wall. "I was... I was thinkin'. About the other night. About most nights, I guess." He paused, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d never quite shaken. "Do you ever... I mean, do you ever want to be the one... on top? To be the one doin' the... well, you know."
Javier blinked, fully awake now. He pulled back just enough to see the deep, localized flush creeping up John’s neck and into his cheeks. It wasn't a question he’d expected. In the three years they’d been together, their dynamic had been consistent. John was big, protective, and—in the bedroom—reliably the one leading the way, mindful of Javier’s comfort and the specificities of his body.
"I don't mind either way, John," Javier said slowly, his voice careful. "I like what we do. I like feeling you. But..." He trailed off, a small, thoughtful smirk playing on his lips. "I’d be lying if I said I didn't wonder…ow it feels to see you from that angle."
John let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a century. "Why didn't you ever say nothin'?"
"Honestly?" Javier shrugged, his hand sliding down to rest on John’s thigh. "I just assumed big, stubborn, old-fashioned John Marston wouldn't be too keen on having anything... up there. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, mi amor."
John looked down at his lap, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. He let out a huff that was half-laugh, half-shudder. "I ain't as fragile as I look, Javi. And I... I trust you. More’n anyone. If you’re curious... and if you think you’d like it... I’m willing to explore. See if I like it, too."
Javier’s eyes darkened, a spark of sudden, sharp heat igniting in them. He sat up fully, straddling John’s lap in one fluid motion, his hands coming up to cup John’s face. "You’re serious? You’d let me?"
"I'm serious," John rasped, his hands instinctively finding Javier’s waist. "Just... go easy on me, alright? I’m new to this side of the fence."
Javier leaned in, his nose brushing against John’s. "I’ll go as slow as you need. But John... I think you’re going to find out you like being handled much more than you thought."
John spent an unusually long time in the bathroom, the steam clouding the mirror as he scrubbed every inch of himself. The enema felt strange—clinical and a bit embarrassing—but his desire to make this perfect for Javier outweighed his shyness. When he finally emerged, smelling of cedarwood soap and feeling strangely light, he found the bedroom transformed into a space of quiet, focused intent.
The bedroom was dim, lit only by the warm glow of the bedside lamps. Javier was sitting on the edge of the mattress, stripped down to his boxers. On the nightstand, a small array of supplies had been laid out: a bottle of water-based lubricant, a box of nitrile gloves, and a sturdy black leather harness that looked well-worn and supple.
John stood in the doorway, clutching his towel around his waist, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. He felt exposed in a way he hadn't felt since his first time with Javier. "You... you really got a whole setup, huh?"
Javier looked up, a soft, encouraging smile on his face. He held up the leather rig. "It’s a strap-on, John. I haven't reached for it since we started dating, mostly because you seemed so intent on being the one in charge, but it’s served me well in the past. It’s adjustable, comfortable, and I think it’ll suit you just fine."
John walked over, his bare feet silent on the carpet. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against the leather straps. "And the... the part that goes on it?"
Javier picked up a realistic, medium-sized silicone dildo from the bed. It was firm but had a bit of give, textured and realistic, making John’s eyes widen a bit. "I thought we’d start with something manageable. Nothing too crazy for your first time." He stood up, the light catching the soft curve of his hips and the flat, scarred expanse of his chest where his top surgery had healed years ago. "Now, drop the towel, John. Let me see you."
John let the fabric fall, standing naked and flushed before his partner. Javier’s gaze traveled slowly down John’s body, lingering on the heavy muscle of his thighs and the dark hair on his chest. He stepped into the harness, buckling the straps around his waist and thighs with practiced ease. The leather creaked softly as he adjusted the fit, the silicone length now protruding from his crotch, a stark, functional contrast to his soft, masculine features.
"Hnn..." John let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the device. "You look... you look good in that, Javi. Aggressive."
"I feel aggressive," Javier whispered, his voice dropping an octave, barely able to contain his excitement. He reached out, his hand sliding over John’s hip to pull him toward the bed. "Now, lay down on your stomach for me, perrito. I’m going to get you ready, and I want you to tell me exactly how everything feels. No bein’ a tough guy, si?"
John nodded, his throat dry. He climbed onto the bed, his heart thudding against the mattress as he buried his face in the pillow. He felt the bed dip as Javier climbed over him, the scent of Javier's spicy and expensive cologne filling his senses.
"Ooh... okay," John gasped as he felt the first cold drop of lubricant hit his skin. Javier’s fingers, slick and warm, began to massage the sensitive area, his touch firm but patient. "Hnff... that’s... that’s a lot of lube, Javi."
"You’ll thank me in a minute," Javier murmured, his thumb beginning to trace the tight circle of John’s entrance. "Just breathe for me, John. Just breathe."
The bedroom was quiet except for the wet, rhythmic sound of Javier’s fingers working diligently. John looked beautiful with his face-down into the pillows, his broad shoulders tensed and his knuckles white where they gripped the headboard. The cool slide of the lube was quickly replaced by the heat of Javier’s hand, and as the first finger slid inside, John’s breath hitched in a sharp, startled "Hnh!"
"Easy, amor," Javier whispered, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the haze of John's growing sensory overload. He added a second finger, the slick friction of the silicone lubricant making the entry smooth despite John’s instinctive tightening. "Tell me... talk to me. How does that feel?"
John’s voice was muffled by the pillow, a low, gravelly vibration. "It’s... it’s odd, Javi. Like I’m... hnn... like I’m full of something that ain't supposed to be there."
Javier hummed, a small, knowing sound. He began to hook his fingers, searching for the specific spot he knew was tucked away inside. When his fingertips finally brushed against the firm, sensitive swell of John’s prostate, John’s entire body jolted. A sharp, high-pitched yelp escaped him, followed immediately by a long, fractured moan.
"AH! Hnnn-ngh... Javier... what the hell was that?" John gasped, his hips bucking upward reflexively into Javier’s hand.
Javier let out a delighted, musical giggle, his dark eyes shimmering with triumph. "That, mi amor, is exactly what I was looking for. Do you like that? Does it feel good?"
"It feels... ooh... it feels like a goddamn lightning bolt…!" John rasped, his breathing turning into a series of short, wet hitches.
Javier didn't let up. Seizing the moment, he eased a third finger inside, stretching the tight ring of muscle until it puckered around his knuckles. He began to move his hand in a slow, rhythmic "come hither" motion, curling his fingers deeply against that hidden sweet spot while simultaneously thrusting his hand in and out.
"Hnn... hnf... ahn-hnn!" John’s head thrashed against the pillow, his back arching as the dual sensation of being stretched and stimulated began to melt his brain. "Javi... stop... no, don't stop... hnn-ngh!"
"You're so tight, John," Javier murmured, leaning over to press a kiss to the scarred skin of John’s shoulder. "But you’re opening up so beautifully for me. Look at you... shaking just from a few fingers."
Javier continued the pace, his fingers mimicking the motion of a cock, stretching John’s walls and driving him into a state of slick, needy confusion. He could feel John’s internal muscles clenching and pulsing around his hand, a primal, involuntary welcome. He knew John was ready—the man was a mess of low moans and desperate twitches, his body primed and slicked for the leather-bound weight Javier was about to introduce.
The sudden absence of Javier’s fingers left John feeling hollow and sensitive, a small, frustrated hnn-nnh escaping him as he felt the cool air hit his skin. Javier reached for the lube bottle again, intending to coat the silicone length, but John’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.
Javier froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. For a split second, he thought John had reached his limit—that the tough guy had finally decided this was too much. "John? It’s okay if you want to stop, mi amor. We don't have to—"
But John didn't say a word. Instead, he sat up, his eyes dark and unfocused with a heavy, primal heat. He crawled forward on the mattress, his large, scarred hands framing Javier’s thighs. He looked up at Javier with a look of pure, stubborn devotion before leaning in.
Javier let out a sharp, jagged "Ah!" as John’s lips parted and he took the head of the dildo into his mouth. The sight was devastating. John Marston—the man who usually growled through his pleasures—was kneeling between Javier's legs, his tongue swirling around the silicone glans, coating it in a thick, silver string of saliva.
"Ooh... Dios... John," Javier gasped, his hand instinctively finding the back of John’s head, his fingers tangling in the damp, dark hair.
John didn't stop at the tip. He pushed forward, his throat opening up as he took the entire length inside. He gagged slightly, a deep, rhythmic hmpf... hngh sounding in his chest, but he kept going, his eyes watering as he deep-throated the toy with a focused intensity. He wanted Javier to see exactly how much he was willing to give, how much he wanted to be claimed.
The sight was more than Javier could handle. He felt a sudden, heavy throb between his own legs, his cunt becoming slick and soaking wet against the fabric of his boxers beneath the harness. The visual of John’s stubbled jaw working against the black silicone, the wet, slurping sounds of his mouth, and the way he looked up through his lashes was a total sensory ambush. It was almost like he could feel John swallowing his cock instead of the toy.
"Ay... you’re going to drive me crazy, John," Javier whispered, his breathing turning into a series of short, frantic hitches, hips twitching from how horny he was. He looked down at the way John’s mouth moved, the saliva dripping onto the leather straps of the harness. "You’re so... ahn... so good for me."
John pulled back slowly, a long thread of spit connecting his bottom lip to the glistening silicone. He looked at the toy, now slick and shining with his own heat, and then looked back at Javier’s flushed face.
"Ready now?" John rasped, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel.
Javier didn't answer with words. He grabbed John’s shoulders and pushed him back onto the pillows, his body trembling with a new, frantic energy. The manageable pace was gone; Javier wanted to feel the way John’s tight, oiled body would react to the weight he’d just so thoroughly blessed with his mouth.
"On your stomach, John," Javier commanded, his voice trembling with a dark, velvet authority. "Lift your hips for me. I want to see everything."
John obeyed with a low, submissive grunt, pushing himself up onto his knees and elbows, his backside raised and vulnerable. The sight was enough to make Javier’s head spin. John’s muscled back was arched, his skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, his heavy thighs framing the tight, puckered entrance that was still wet and twitching from Javier’s fingers.
Javier moved behind him, his hands sliding over the firm, scarred cheeks of John’s ass to spread him wide. "You look... goddamn incredible, tan hermoso, John. So beautiful like this." To punctuate the praise, Javier delivered a sharp, stinging slap to the right cheek—SMACK—the sound echoing in the quiet room.
"AH! Shit…!" John’s hips bucked, his face burying deeper into the mattress as a flush of heat and surprise raced through him.
"Stay still for me," Javier whispered, his voice a jagged rasp. He aligned the glistening silicone, the tip pressing firmly against the center of John’s heat. He didn't rush; he pushed forward with a slow, relentless pressure, watching the way John’s internal muscles fought, then surrendered, to the massive stretch.
"Ooh... ooh-hnnn-ngh!" John’s breath left him in a long, broken whistle. His body felt like it was being split wide, the girth of the toy claiming space that had never been occupied before. He felt the slick slide of his own saliva acting as the perfect lubricant, the silicone burying itself deep into his gut until the base of the harness hit his skin with a muffled thud.
"That's it... take it all," Javier urged, his hands gripping John's hips like iron. He didn't wait for the shock to fade; he began to move, a deep, grinding rhythm that made the leather harness creak rhythmically—creak-slap, creak-slap.
Every time Javier drove his hips forward, the toy angled upward, hammering directly into the firm, sensitive swell of John’s prostate. John was no longer capable of holding back. His voice became a series of rhythmic, animalistic sounds, his head thashing from side to side.
"Javi... Hngh…! I-it’s too much... it’s—ahn! AHN-HNNN!" John’s fingers dug into the bedsheets, his knuckles white. The sensation was overwhelming—a heavy, pulsing fullness that made his entire lower half feel like it was on fire.
Javier was losing himself, too. He could feel the friction through the harness, his own wet, aching cunt throbbing with every thrust he delivered. He leaned over John’s broad back, his chest pressing against John’s spine as he increased the speed, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate.
"You’re...you’re so tight, but you’re taking it so well," Javier gasped into John’s ear, his breath hot and ragged. "I knew you’d... hnn... I knew you’d be perfect like this."
The rhythm became a blur of wet sounds and creaking leather, Javier’s hips working with a primal, focused violence that drove John toward the edge of a shattering, helpless surrender.
The bedroom is filled with the sounds of their shared exertion—the heavy, rhythmic thud of Javier’s hips, the sharp creak of the leather straps, and the wet, squelching friction of the silicone. John is completely undone, his face buried in the pillows as he lets out a continuous, low-pitched noises that vibrates through the mattress.
Javier doesn't let up. He can feel the way John’s internal muscles are clamping down, a frantic, rhythmic pulsing that signals the end is near. He increases the pace, his thrusts becoming shorter and more punishing, driving the toy into John’s prostate with relentless accuracy.
"Javi... Javi, I’m—ahn! Hnn-ngh!" John’s voice breaks into a high, jagged cry. His entire body goes rigid, his back arching so hard his spine cracks, and without a single hand touching him, he erupts. His seed splatters onto the sheets beneath him in heavy, rhythmic bursts, his thighs shaking so violently they rattle the bedframe. "Ahn! AHGH!"
John collapses into the pillows, his body twitching with massive aftershocks, but Javier isn't finished. His own need is a sharp, screaming ache behind his navel. He keeps his hips moving, the silicone toy sliding through the slick heat of John's mess, but he reaches down with his hand, sliding his fingers beneath the base of the harness.
He finds himself—the swollen, sensitive pearl of his growth—already soaking wet and desperate. As he continues to hammer his hips into John’s trembling backside, his fingers work in a frantic, circular blur.
"Hnnh... hnn... Dios... John... ooh! You feel…mierda you feel so good around my cock, fuck…!" Javier’s breathing hitches into a series of short, sharp gasps. The dual sensation of the friction against John’s tight walls and the direct pressure of his own hand is too much. His vision goes white at the edges. "Ahn... hnn-hnn-hnn... YES!"
With a final, desperate lunge of his hips, Javier’s own climax hits him like a tidal wave. He lets out a long, shattered groan, his cunt pulsing frantically against his fingers as he spills himself into his boxers. He gives three more slow, deep, possessive grinds, burying the toy to the very hilt, before finally going limp.
He collapses directly onto John’s broad, sweat-slicked back, his chest heaving as he gasps for air. The room is silent for a long time, save for the sound of their combined, ragged breathing.
"It’s... it’s almost as good as... actually cumming inside you," Javier breathes out against the scarred skin of John’s neck, his voice a thinned-out, exhausted whisper.
John doesn't move, his face still half-buried in the pillow, but he lets out a long, shaky sigh of total contentment. "Hnn... I reckon it was... plenty good enough for me, Javi."
Javier smiles into John's shoulder, his eyes closing as the adrenaline begins to fade, leaving them both tangled together in the ruins of the sheets, the leather harness a heavy, warm weight between them.
The high-voltage energy that had filled the room slowly began to dissipate, replaced by the heavy, sweet lethargy of a total physical spend. The only sound for a long time was the synchronized, ragged hitch of their breathing. Javier was the first to move, his muscles trembling slightly as he pushed himself up.
The metallic clink of the harness buckles sounded unnervingly loud in the quiet room as Javier undone the leather straps. He moved with a slow, careful grace, sliding the rig off his hips and setting it—and the slick, glistening silicone—aside on the nightstand. He felt a strange, lingering hum in his own lower belly, the phantom friction of John’s body still ghosting against his skin.
John finally found the strength to roll over. He looked a mess—his hair was matted with sweat, his face was flushed a deep, sunset red, and his eyes were glazed with a dazed, almost holy sort of shock. He looked up at Javier as the smaller man climbed back under the covers, his expression one of profound, vulnerable gratitude.
"Javi..." John’s voice was a wrecked, dry rasp. He cleared his throat, trying to find the words. "I... I ain't ever felt nothin' like that. Not in my whole damn life."
Javier slid into the crook of John’s arm, his head finding its familiar home on John’s broad chest. He could hear John’s heart still thudding like a trapped bird, gradually slowing to a steady, rhythmic beat. "I told you, John. You just needed to let someone else hold the reins for a bit."
John’s hand came up, his calloused fingers tangling in Javier’s dark hair, stroking the back of his neck with a tenderness that made Javier shiver. "I reckon I was a fool for waitin' three years to let you do that. It was... hnngh... it was more'n just the feelin' of it. It was you. The way you…you was lookin’ at me, the way you took charge an…" His face became impossibly even redder “...the way you was…talkin’.”
They lay there in the cooling darkness, the sheets a ruined tangle around their legs. The domesticity of the apartment—the hum of the fridge in the kitchen, the distant sound of a car on the street—felt grounded and safe again, but the air between them was irrevocably changed.
"We’re gonna have to do that again," John murmured, his eyes drifting shut. "Maybe not every night... but I don't want to go back to just one way of doin' things. Not if it makes you feel like that. Not if it makes us feel like that."
Javier smiled against John's skin, his fingers tracing the faint, jagged scars on John's ribs. "I’d like that, John. I’d like that very much. We can take our time. Figure out what else we’ve been missing."
"Mm-hmm," John hummed, the vibration deep and soothing. He pulled Javier closer, his chin resting on top of Javier’s head. "Whatever you want, Javi. I’m yours. Front, back... however you want me."
Javier let out a soft, sleepy chuckle, his body finally going limp with exhaustion. "Careful, Marston. I might just hold you to that."
As the city lights flickered outside their window, the two men fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, bound together by a new kind of trust—one that didn't need words, just the quiet, steady heat of two bodies finally in total sync.