butcher with a smile (cut me farther)
Tyler might've had the air of an eight-year-old and a prominent lisp, but he was farfrom innocent.
He was actually pretty fucking filthy--Josh was shocked when he found out the kind of stuff Tyler was into, deeply fucked-up levels of power play and kink that Josh hadn't exactly planned to venture into ever, but it wasn't until Josh actually had Tyler in his bed did he realize how desperately Tyler actually needed this. This wasn't some weird, dirty way of dealing with daddy issues or a bad past relationship; he just needed to have his mind completely turned off, shut down, unable to do all the poisonous overthinking that he was usually renowned for, and the only real way for Tyler to achieve this was to be locked in a state of sexual stupor and sensory overload so he was literally incapable of processing anything else--let alone the meaning of life and whether he should keep living. Sex was his reset button; it was his way to let go of all his anxieties and stresses all in one night, to just let go and let someone else take charge and have complete power over his mind and body.
Josh was more than happy to be that someone.
They barely made it back to their shared bedroom after coming back from an interview before Josh was slamming Tyler against the door, hard, and kissing him with all his might, one hand on his throat, not pressing hard enough to really hinder Tyler's breathing, but just enough to be a threat, to assert control. Tyler whined, body spasming beneath Josh's, and let Josh's tongue assault his mouth, not even fighting for dominance, just letting his mouth open helplessly underneath Josh's own, moaning.
Josh pulled away, suddenly, shoving Tyler into the door by his throat again, feeling the delicate skin beneath his palm move as Tyler swallowed. "Strip, slut."
Josh couldn't help but smirk as Tyler scrambled to remove his clothes, arms shaking, shirt briefly getting tangled around his arms before he managed to shuck it off. He began fumbling with his leggings with clumsy fingers, the tribal-print ones that made Tyler's ass look fucking incredible. Josh had sort of been staring at it all day in all of its perfect, perky glory.
"Wait," Josh said as Tyler reached down to pull his leggings off. The younger immediately stopped, looking inquisitively up at Josh for instructions. "Leave them on." Josh stepped forward into Tyler's space again, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcefully turning him around, before shoving him into the door again, smirking a bit at Tyler's wince.
Fuck, his ass did look good in them, round and soft and grabbable. They were pretty fucking slutty leggings, if Josh was honest. He wasn't sure how Tyler got away with them.
"Fuck," Josh swore, keeping one hand between Tyler's shoulder blades to keep him anchored, the other one reaching down to palm Tyler's ass. "Fuck, your ass looks so good in these leggings. Do you know that, Ty? Do you know how slutty you look in them, begging for attention from every greasy perv who might've passed you today?" Josh slapped his ass once, watching it jiggle under his palm. Tyler jumped a bit, going up on his tiptoes, whimpering. "How many guys do you think thought about bending you over and fucking you today, huh? Shit, you probably wanted it, didn't you."
Tyler moaned, squirming underneath Josh's hands. Tyler was beginning to get really restless, now, panting against the wood of the door and a tent beginning to form in his leggings.
Josh grinned, grabbing Tyler by the hair, getting a hoarse cry in return, and dragging him over to the bed, throwing him down forcefully over the edge so he was bent at the hips, ass jutting out beautifully. Josh leaned over him, his chest to Tyler's back, and humped against his clothed ass with vigor, his own cock straining against his jeans. "You're just a toy. Made to be fucked," he spat out, not hesitating to be brutal and degrading with his words. They'd run through this enough before, knew that objectification helped Tyler to let go and stop thinking.
