Car Fic. | Bluespartanz

10

After they had gone through so much to finally get to this point-- some jackass higher being decided it wasn't enough. Was that the Power Rangers theme? Brandon's' ringtone? God damn it. Everything stopped. "Ignore it," Henry pleaded between trying to breathe and trying not to cry, his heart sinking as Brandon grabbed the phone from his discarded pants reflexively. "I... gotta take-- it's..." He panted. "Kwite--" Henry snatched the phone out of his hand. "Do you really want to answer it?" hissed Henry, offended that Brandon would even considering picking up the phone in the middle of the best fucking sex ever.

He just doesn't get it, sometimes. You don't fucking do that! This was one of those fucking times. Dammit. Was Kwite really that important? On one hand, he was thankful for Kwite's previous help with the coffee and all-- but right now, Kwite could go to hell for all he cared.

Agitated, he squeezed the red cancel button and threw the phone aside, outside of Brandon'sreach. "W-what if it was impor-- ahhhhnn H-Hen... ry.." Henry grabbed Brandon's ass and slowly pulled out of him, then slammed back in-- grazing the prostate once more. Brandons eyes were barely open as he cried weakly, giving in to the sensation. "HENRY! nnnnnmmm!" Brandon twitched and spasmed. Tenderly, Henry brushed the wet bangs off of Brandon's forehead. Brandon grabbed that hand and clung to it tightly, anchoring himself to it as Henry went deeper and deeper. "O-oh... God, Henry! H-Henry..."

Fucking Kwite-- he had to call a second time? This dudes just going to keep trying until someone picks up, huh? Once again, to Henry's disappointment, Brandon stopped moving. With great concern in his eyes, he stared at the phone that was now in Henrys hand. Without putting any thought into the consequences, Henry accepted the call.

"Hullo, Brandon?" kwite asked, tired. Brandon was wide-eyed and frantic, but Henry was able to hold him down with his hands. "No, this is Henry." "What, you guys aren't done with your thing yet? It's freakin' late." Brandon whispered, "Henry! What the fuck!" but to no avail.

"No, we're doing something else now." He was being difficult and vague on purpose. Honestly, Henry wasn't sure what he was doing, answering the phone. But Brandon looked like he wanted to cry. "Er... okay. Is Brandon Available to talk right now?" "Brandon?" he innocently asked, as he twitched his hips forward, eliciting a small, tasty moan from him. Well, then. Spreading Brandon's legs wider, he leaned forward and thrust again and again until he had a slow rhythm back, this time while kissing Brandon's sweet, bitten neck. Brandon sobbed and clamped a hand over his mouth, using the other one to shakily punch Henry in the shoulder repeatedly. "Henry?" tried Kwite, hearing only muffled noises from the other end.

"Talk," mouthed Henry as he lowered the phone next to Brandons head, "You wanted to so much earlier, why not-- nnnnrgh-- now?" he asked harshly. All Brandon could do was sniff defiantly and try to turn his loud, aroused cries into empty gasps as Henry rubbed his prostate over and over with his hard cock. Kwite's small and concerned electronic voice could be heard but it seemed so far away-- Brandon couldn't focus. Then, Henry decided to be very cruel. He spit on his hand and wrapped it around Brandon's neglected arousal, giving it a tight, strong stroke all the while pressing harder and harder into him. He pumped his hand quickly while licking Brandon's fingers. "Do you want Kwite to hear you beg for more?" taunted Henry as he kissed the tears off of Brandon's cheeks. "Hear you scream for my cock... pounding into your hot ass..." and Brandon was definitely enjoying the dirty talk and the risk of getting caught because he was leaking precum onto Henrys sliding hands. Smearing the precum on the head with his thumb, Henry mouthed Brandons ear and sucked on his earlobe. "Don't make me have to punish you again..." he whispered cruelly, slamming into the panting, broken boy one last time. Brandon snapped, his body jerked violently because he was coming so hard and pulsing-- he clenched so tightly that Henry roared. Brandon's nerves were on fire and all he could see was white and fuck fuck fuck how could he still be orgasming and moaning and whimpering and clawing Henry's back till it bled through his damp t-shirt. Brandon's long, lust-filled mewl did not go unheard by Kwite.

Henry picked up the phone and cut Kwite off before he could make any comment on what he just heard, "So as you can see, we're very busy right now and would appreciate it if you would stop calling. Say good bye, Brandon!" Sure, he was a selfish jerk at times-- but this was important to him. Brandon needed to learn a lesson. A little embarassment wouldn't kill him. He dangled the phone near the exhausted teen, who could only weakly rasp, "... F-fuck you." Henry then hung up and tossed the phone into the front seat, where it bounced off the dashboard and onto the ground.