A little something

THIS IS NOT MY WORK.
i'm sick and i thought i owed you guys something to Read. I found this on tumblr and changed a few things.


You’ve probably had a bit too much to drink, but you sip the glass of wine sitting prettily in your hand, anyway. It’s New Years Eve, you think with an inward scowl. It’s been a long year and you needed a night to let go.

Draining the last of the deep red wine, you stand from your seat, letting the chair clatter somewhere behind you. Your eyes search the dance floor for the boy with the perfect brown hair who’d teased you earlier, gotten you all worked up with tender touches and low-murmured words of all the things he’d like to do to you.

Biting your lip at the thought, you pushed your way through the crowds, fully intent of finding him and making sure he kept his word (words, really. There were many plans for that night and you were set on making all of them happen).

Your hand was the first thing to reach him. You let your fingertips graze down his shoulder, into the crevice between his back muscles to glide over his spine, all the way to wear you could feel the rough denim of his jeans under his t-shirt.
“Hey, babe,” you murmured, standing on your toes to get closer to his ear. He was facing you in a second, hurling himself into you and nearly picking you up in his haste.

“Stop teasing,” he breathed. “It’s almost midnight. Then I’ll show you what I was talking about.” His voice was raspy, eyes wide and certain. He let his lips claim yours, nibbling and pushing and sliding until they were a flushed and kiss-swollen red. “Dance with me.”

So you did, turning to let your hips meld with his. His hands splayed across your hipbones, fingers digging in every so often. You let your head fall back near his shoulder, eyes closing in bliss. You hand wound up to clench the hair near the back of his head, tugging gently in time with the song.

“Fuck waiting,” he growled, hands holding your body to his. “We’re going home now.” The car ride was unbearable, the taxi driver tense and awkward as he attempted to ignore the short gasped Justin pulled from you with his lips on the smooth skin of your neck.

“Thanks, mate,” he grumbled, tossing a bill that was far more valuable than the cost of the taxi ride towards the driver, who mumbled something that you couldn’t be bothered to hear before speeding off again.

Justin pulled you impatiently towards the building, his grip only tightening on your wrist as he navigated up the stairs to the spacious flat the two of you shared. When the door clicked behind you, there was silence. Justin stood two nearly two steps away from you and stared, his eyes raking over your body. His face was set, cheeks flushed and jaw clenched with lust.

“You shouldn’t have worn that dress,” he murmured, taking one step closer to you. “You’re far too attractive for your own good, you know?” His mouth hitched up into a smile. “I’m lucky some guy didn’t cart you off,” he said, moving close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin. “But it doesn’t really matter,” he said, his hand brushing over your shoulder to rest on the back of your neck. “It’ll be off your body soon enough.”

His fingers took hold of the zipper, pulling slowly and teasingly down your back. You were quick to slip out of the tight dress, letting it pool around your ankles. “You’re overdressed,” you stated, hands finding the button of his jeans. Justin's smile was crooked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

A path of undergarments followed you to the nearest room - which happened to be the kitchen. His hands - God, his hands - lifted you onto the counter, his body slitting perfectly between your legs.

There wasn’t anything stopping him from taking you right there in the kitchen, but he didn’t move, instead staring at your eyes and letting his breathing match the rise and fall of your chest.

“Perfect,” was all he murmured before leaning up to press his lips somewhere near your collarbone, his hands sliding under your thighs. With a groan, your hands slipped into his hair, fingers twisting.

He lifted you, holding you to his body as he took only a few steps, moving to the clear wall space between the stove and the doorway. Your back pressed against the cool surface of the wall, your legs locking behind Justin's back.
“Can we just do this?” you gritted out, tired of waiting. His lips found yours, silencing you. “Patience,” he growled, kissing you firmer.

In the end, he didn’t have the patience either, and he took you there - against the wall, with your legs wrapped tightly around him and your fingers twisted tightly in his hair. His hips moved of their own accord, pressing against you in some sort of rhythm.

You don’t know how long either of you lasted, both of you strung tight from the party and the wine and the teasing, but you remember the feeling, the almost numbness and then the wave of god, Justin! that brought you to an end.