Work Text:
Martin rarely has time alone. Not that he doesn’t like that! He actually prefers to not have time to himself after his time in the Lonely, though it does mean that whenever he has a particular need, he has to excuse himself from the room with Jon. He doesn’t necessarily feel the need to evade the question of ‘what are you doing, Martin?’ because they do have their own codeword that they use to say hey, I need to go jack off, brb.
But the act of saying “I need a Viagara” out loud brings such white hot shame in the pit of Martin’s stomach. He feels the urge to say it at least once a day, when Jon can go a couple weeks without saying it at all.
Does that influence how wet he gets after saying it, and how fast he can cum by thinking about it?
Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
But Jon’s out getting groceries, a laundry list of errands for thngs that they both need, leaving him out of the house for most of the afternoon. Martin’s gone through and cleaned the house, folded the laundry, checked for intruders and the like, and shredded any bits of paper that come their way.
Jon’s probably not going to be home until after lunch, giving Martin an hour to do whatever he pleases, and… so…
He goes into their room and pulls out the little go bag of sex toys they’ve built up in their time there, sifting through until he finds the plug-in wand vibrator they’ve used a couple times. Martin prefers the bigger wands as there’s no way for the head to get caught in his front hole, but– the idea today makes him kind of dizzy.
He sends a check in text to Jon to gauge where he’s at, and Jon just sends a “be home soon xo” back. He probably has enough time to plug in and use the vibrator, knowing how his refractory period can be. He’s a bit of a quick trigger by himself, lacking the patience to drag it out like Jon likes to do, but–
Yeah, why not?
He shucks his clothes off, plugging in the wand and turning it on to the second lowest setting. The whole thing shakes in his hand, a low, loud whir that Martin can feel pulse through his body. The whole idea of doing this by himself and the thought of being caught has his lower growth already swollen, reminding him of why exactly he doesn’t just use this on his own– a one bedroom cottage doesn’t leave either of them with enough privacy.
Pulling his belly up a little, he squeezes his thighs together, feeling his slick folds slide against each other. He bites back a moan as that same molten heat comes back– he’s already soaked, he can feel it as he swipes his fingers over his cock. His swollen cock throbs against his hand, and he lets one of his thighs fall to the side, opening his legs so that he can slide the wand between them.
The vibrations are intense, pressing down exactly where he needs it on his cock. He doesn’t bother quieting his moan this time, arching his back as he leverages the body of the wand to apply more pressure.
The thought of Jon walking in the front door, seeing Martin spread open wide with the–fuck, the door to their room is open.
What a slut, Martin thinks to himself. Might as well have the windows open too, let everyone hear you moan like a whore.
The thought of Jon degrading him like that has him trying to press the head of the vibrator down harder against his cock, only– he’s so wet, and there’s so much slick everywhere that the vibrator slides down his cunt, catching on his front hole.
Oh.
He doesn’t intend for the vibrator to slip in like it does, but god it does, slowly pushing in until the white head of the vibrator slides in completely. He’s full, too full, split open in a way that he’s never felt before, the vibrator buzzing away incessantly. He scrambles, trying to sit up enough to turn off the vibrations so he can get used to the feeling, but he can’t and accidentally turns it up instead.
Martin falls back, his chest flushing as he clenches down around it, moaning as he tries to fuck the vibrator in and out, and bloody hell, it goes with ease. Molten hot heat churns through him, curling around his pelvis like a cat as he thinks to himself.
How loose do you have to be? Jon would probably say if he saw him. Did you have to stretch yourself at all, or did you just take it like the good slut I know you are?
That is, if Jon liked what he saw. Shame courses through Martin as he thinks about how disgusted Jon would be, tsking at Martin being such a needy whore.
He lets out a loud moan, his hips arching off the bed as he cums, faster than he would’ve liked, but hard. He let go of the vibrator as he came, not worried about it coming out as it’s firmly stuck inside of him, not going anywhere. Though, as he comes down from his high, his bone tired, weary arms can’t quite reach and the vibrations on almost the highest setting have the awful tendency to send Martin over quickly after cumming the first time.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t reach, and turning to the side to unplug the vibrator hurts. Martin just makes out the door of their cabin closing behind Jon before he hears the bags fall to the floor.
“Oh my god,” Martin whines, his hips moving of their own accord as he covers his face. “Jon, nggh, c-could you help me?”
Martin can hear Jon’s footsteps move closer, pause, and then move further away, the rustling of the paper bags in tune with the controlled way Jon puts away the groceries. He’s leaving Martin there, helpless on the bed as if he were tied down– that thought rips another moan from his throat.
“J-Jon,” he whines, reaching down to palm at his chest, hoping upon all hope if he cums again maybe he can bring Jon back into the room.
When he dares to open his eyes, Jon’s standing with his back to Martin, slowly but surely taking off his sweatshirt and jeans. It’s meditative almost, and if Martin wasn’t in overstimulation city, he’d probably thank Jon for remembering to put his clothes on the dresser instead of on their makeshift hamper chair. Martin whimpers as Jon’s shoulders flex, turning around once he finishes. Martin can just see that Jon’s straining in his boxers over the sight of him.
“I spend my morning getting food and running errands, while you sit– no, lay here,” Jon raises an eyebrow, smirking. “jerking off as if you had nothing better to do.”
Martin whines, spreading his legs wider apart. Jon mimics his plea.
“I know,” he says, kneeling on the bed. Martin is so close to his second orgasm he can taste it, but is thankful that Jon’ll pull the vibrator out. “But.”
But?
Jon grips the body of the wand firmly, holding it in place, no– pushing it in a little more. Martin flexes his leg, arching his back, ignoring the excited drop of his stomach that he feels, knowing that Jon is not about to stop this any time soon.
“W-wait–” he moans, shuddering as Jon chuckles, condescending.
"I thought maybe I’d tie you down, but look at you. You can't even reach me if you wanted to." Jon reaches forward, placing a hand on Martin’s belly, shaking it. “Is that why you needed my help? You couldn’t reach the vibrator you fucked into yourself?”
Martin nods, squeezing his eyes shut as he moans, his hips fucking back against the vibrator in time with Jon’s thrusts.
Jon tsks, shaking his head. “How very useless. Good thing I know what to do with you.”
Fear and excitement flood Martin’s body as Jon turns the vibrator up another step, Martin gripping the sheets hard enough to pucker as he cums again. His orgasm crashes over him in waves, each aftershock sending another jolt of electricity up his spine from his cunt. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, feeling weary as he tries to close his legs, just enough to try and maybe muffle the vibrations.
"Coming already? Really now, Martin. I've only just started-- you were the one begging for it." Jon pushes Martin’s legs open, his hands sinking into Martin’s plush thighs.
“Just started?” His voice cracks as he lets out a sob, the vibrations on just this side of hurting.
He opens his eyes to see Jon kneeling on the bed over him, looking at him with lustful disgust over the rims of his glasses as he not-so-gently smacks Martin’s inner thighs.
“Legs, Martin. I'll get a spreader bar if I need to.”
"I'm sorry, Sir." Martin lets his legs fall open, arching his hips as much as he can off the bed, trying in vain to get away from the incessant buzzing against his g-spot.
Jon’s eyes are full of lust as he rakes his gaze over Martin. Grabbing the wand, he has a better angle than Martin did alone, so it’s easier and more effective when he pulls out and fucks the head back in.
Martin scrabbles for purchase, threading his fingers through his hair, trying to push himself further up the bed. His exhausted arms and lack of upper body strength protest, but he manages to prop himself up on his elbows, just enough to watch see Jon looking at him over the rim of his glasses.
Stress has made Jon’s salt and pepper hair more salt than pepper, grey streaks beginning to overtake his black hair. The way his half-moon wire-rimmed glasses sitthe bridge of his nose makes him look even more disinterested, and Jon seems to lock onto it, because of course he does.
“I thought I might fuck you after this, but, Lord, I might need to just fist you if I wanted to do anything. My cock wouldn't be wide enough after this, but with the way you’re moaning, it doesn't seem like this is big enough, huh?"
Martin shakes his head, letting the tears spill over on his cheeks. He’s so horny, still hard as anything, and Jon knows it, is aware, because at least he can see it. He does take pity though, pulling out the vibrator slowly, if only for a moment’s reprieve, as he replaces the intense vibrations with his hand, jerking Martin off with a practiced ease.
Martin’s moans are desperate, loud pleas as he grips at Jon’s wrist, fighting with himself to figure out whether or not he wants to push him away or pull him closer. Jon taps at his tummy again, shaking his head.
“Who said you could touch?”
“No one,” he hiccups, moaning as Jon flattens his palm and rubs over his cock.
“Then be a good boy and take it, yeah?”
Jon’s movements shake Martin’s cunt deliciously. Each time his cock rubs over a callous on Jon’s palm, electricity sparks down his spine– he’s embarrassingly close, but not to cumming–
“Jon, I’m about to– you have to stop–”
“Come on, love,” he says, moving his hand in quicker circles.
If it weren’t for Jon’s boner pressed against the back of Martin’s thigh, Martin would think he wasn’t affected at all. That though, that he’s so used to Martin’s antics, his libido being through the roof, sends him over the edge, letting go and soaking the two of them.
Jon lets out a condescending whine, mimicking Martin’s earlier one. “Poor slut, did you make a mess?”
Martin gasps, trying to catch his breath as he watches as Jon takes his cock out. “Please, please fuck me.”
“Do you deserve it? I could just cum on your cunt.”
“I– yes,” he whines. “Please, I’ve been good, I need it.”
“You need what?”
“You,” Martin whines.
Jon lines up before sliding into Martin, and Martin can’t help the keen that rips from his throat, covering his mouth as he tries to keep himself quiet.
“Good lord, Martin. This desperate after cumming three times? I’ve hardly put it in you yet.” Jon says, sliding in slowly.
Jon normally fucks like he works, meticulous and sure of himself, but right now, he’s schooling himself, making himself go slower, just to torment Martin, and he knows it. Martin’s eyes roll back as his cunt meets Jon’s hips, clenching down around him. He feels Jon grip his hips hard enough to bruise, picking up the pace to fuck in and out of him faster.
Posh little ah, ah, ahs follow his movements in timed thrusts, Jon bending over and taking one of Martin’s nipples between his teeth. The pleasure-pain mixed with the overstimulation has him crying out, wrapping his legs around Jon’s ass to pull him in closer, closer, closer.
“How are you still tight after taking that vibrator?” Jon asks, his voice raspy as he grinds into Martin.
Martin can only whine as he looks up at Jon, watching as his glasses slide further down his nose with each thrust. Each movement making him look ever more like the annoyed archivist that first drew Martin to him.
Martin’s ass lifts off the bed as he cums once more, his vision going fuzzy around the edges. He’s almost aware that Jon pulls out, can hear his throaty groans as he jerks himself off, cumming over Martin’s belly.
It’s just that sleep sounds so good right now.
When Martin comes to, Jon’s resting next to him, reading some book about the Psychology of being human. He looks down at his belly and is surprised not to see the streaks of cum he fell asleep to.
Jon turns to look at him. “I cleaned you up while you were sleeping. How are you feeling?”
Martin smiles, feeling like he ran a marathon– is that possible? Maybe. Embarrassing? More likely.
“Like I had the workout of all time.”
“I brought you water and a snack,” Jon takes the cup of water with a straw from the table, handing it to Martin. “Drink, please.”
Aftercare is their necessity, but this is… really nice. Martin chugs the water faster than he normally would, Jon already opening the little string cheese to hand to him.
“Eat, please.”
Martin obliges, chewing the cheese stick bite by bite.
“Was that okay? I know we didn’t talk about it before, and I definitely could have checked in on you–”
“It was perfect. I loved it,” Martin says, reaching over to press a kiss to Jon’s jaw. “Was it good for you?”
Martin watches as Jon’s pupils dilate just enough to be noticeable.
“Yes, that was– more than satisfactory.”
Martin grins.
“Well then, we’re in agreement. You should do the groceries more and find me masturbating more often.”
Jon laughs. “It’s a deal.”