Fic: Comfort In Words
Title: Comfort In WordsRating: very NC-17
Pairing: Bay Gold/Graham Hunter
Summary: Bay and Graham go shopping for books; no books are found
A/N: So this is actually a really smutty prequel to my Bay/Graham and Rumbelle fic that’s sort of college!AU. But this alone is basically just your straight up college!AU. With a lot of smut. Bay looks like this because I started this well before Nealfire.
For Fyre because she promised me Rutherglens in return.
Bay Gold had discovered, through a good few months of trying desperately to be clandestine, that Graham Hunter had a certain exhibitionist streak to him.
That wasn’t to say he’d been talked into doing unspeakably dirty things against shop windows or in parks, of course not. But Graham did like to surprise him with random public displays of affection, the less appropriate the better. He was a bit of a bastard, really, but Bay found he liked that about him: Bay found he liked almost everything about Graham, to tell the truth.
So he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when Graham caught him unawares in the bookstore where they were due to meet, by grabbing him by the waist and hauling him around. His hot, insistent mouth was on Bay’s before he had a chance to draw breath or think at all, really, and Bay melted embarrassingly quickly into his boyfriend’s arms. Graham’s tongue plundered him, and it was all Bay could do to stand there, his arms around the other man, and be ravished.
When they parted, a few people were staring. Graham grinned breathing as hard as Bay although, Bay felt, not blushing half so hard. “Hey,” Graham said, as if they’d just bumped into each other on the street.
“People are looking you asshole!” Bay chided, smacking his arm, but he was lying if he said he wasn’t beaming ear to ear.
“So some people don’t appreciate enacting the first part of a porno in a public place.”
“Some people need to relax,” Graham raised an eyebrow, and Bay was certain he’d be able to focus on being annoyed if he wasn’t being soothed in an Irish accent, and if he didn’t have a pair of hot, firm hands framing his hips. “Besides,” Graham smirked, “it’s not as if I showed up with a pizza asking who ordered the extra-large sausage.”
Bay snorted, shaking his head and unable to keep from sniggering. They broke apart, but Graham’s hand remained clasped in Bay’s, and Bay didn’t even think about moving it.
“So,” Graham smiled, entirely unrepentantly, “Books?”
Bay rolled his eyes as they started up the stairs, “What classes are you taking next year?”
“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this now. It’s bloody June, Bay.”
“And I’m home all summer, with you I might add, and the core texts go up in price and sell out fast in September. I’m doing you a favour,” he said, firmly. “Now, what’re you planning to take so you can graduate?”
Graham had only just missed graduating, a fact Bay was trying not to be a little bit pleased about. Of course it was terrible that his boyfriend had to repeat a semester, but he was planning to be a TA in Avonlea for the next year, and having more time without the world intruding on their safe little bubble felt like a very good thing. And it wasn’t as if Graham minded: one more semester of college football had put him in a generally good mood as well.
“I only failed two credits, history and arts, so I thought I’d try something Greek, maybe the mythological one, to fill the history requirement, then… I don’t know, something easy.”
“There’s nothing easy for a senior in Avonlea.”
“Well, then, it’ll have to be Lit, won’t it?” Graham winked at him, and caught his arm as Bay stared at him.
“Lit? As in the one where I’m a TA and might end up teaching you? That kind of lit?” Bay’s heart was suddenly pounding, and he stared at Graham intently.
“Well,” Graham shrugged, “Maybe. Might bump into each other. I might already have signed all their stupid forms as well.” He added, and watched for Bay’s response.
“You did what now?”
“Guess you’re my teacher, Mr Bailey Gold,” Graham’s grin was wide enough to break his stupid perfect face, and Bay was entirely unsure what his feelings or any other part of him were doing.
Graham. In his department. Most of the semester. Luckily Bay was only a TA, so they’d be alright even if they were found out, but the array of images moving through his head were neither appropriate nor unpleasant.
“Oh, you planned that.” Bay groaned, and they rounded a corner into an empty room of the shop, where the classics and ancient literature sections were housed.
“I don’t know what you mean, Bay,” Graham said, innocently, “You made the classes sound so interesting.”
“You hate reading!” Bay cried, reading the titles on one shelf and leading them to the back of the stacks, where the core texts were supposed to be shelved.
“Well then I’ll need a lot of tutoring, won’t I?” Graham smirked, his tone suddenly low and full of intent. He took a few steps forward into Bay’s personal space, forcing Bay to back up, his back hitting the bookshelves.
“Yes,” Bay nodded, and put his hands on Graham’s broad shoulders, pushing him back a little, “And also books. The reason why we’re in a bookstore, remember?”
“Really?” Graham’s voice was rough and soft, all heat and whispers, “And here I thought you just wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone.”
“If I wanted that,” Bay said, and it was supposed to sound matter-of-fact and firm but it came out breathy and weak, “then I have an apartment with a lock on the door.”
Graham hummed agreement, although Bay felt it more than he heard because Graham’s lips had met the side of his jaw, and he was biting softly at the flesh there, sucking it into his mouth and laving it with his tongue. Bay’s legs shook, threatened to collapse, but Graham had him pinned to the shelves, and between them they took most of his weight.
“And yet…” Graham muttered, and Bay was sure he’d have marks from Graham’s teeth and the rub of his stubble against his skin and didn’t care at all, his hands weaving in Graham’s hair to hold him closer, “Here we are.”
“Shopping.” Bay specified, but it would have sounded more convincing, he thought, if it weren’t a gasp, “For books. For the new year.”
“Of course,” Graham agreed, before working his way along Bay’s cheek and kissing him full on the mouth, silencing all further protest. Bay almost yelped aloud when Graham’s hot, strong hand came between their plastered bodies to cup him through his jeans. His firm fingers rubbed and squeezed, as his mouth claimed Bay’s in a hard, rough kiss, and Bay surrendered, moaning softly and bringing one hand down to squeeze Graham’s arse. Graham responded with a flexing of his own fingers, teasing and grinding his palm against the growing hardness in his hand, and Bay tried to keep his mind together, and remember just why this was such a bad idea.
“We’ll get caught,” he gasped as Graham’s mouth moved from his to bite at his throat, soothing every hard scrape of his teeth with a stroke of his hot tongue.
Graham pulled back, and gave Bay an amused look. “We’re in the classics department, Bay, I doubt anyone’s going to come looking for…” he squinted at the book that rested beside Bay’s head, “Thucydides… anytime soon, eh?”
Bay snorted and shook his head, “I took Classics freshman year: trust me, no one is looking for him.”
“Well then…” Graham’s smile widened into a grin, and his hand on Bay’s cock through his trousers tightened for a long moment, grinding the heel of his hand against the hard bulge for emphasis. “If we’re quiet, what’s the harm?”
“This is a bad idea…” Bay murmured, but his head hit the shelves again as Graham’s hot, wet mouth reached his collarbone, nipping and sucking and kissing as much skin as he could find exposed by Bay’s button-down. Bay barely noticed Graham untucking his shirt until it was hanging out loose around his hips, but he certainly noticed the ministering hand on his cock moving up to tug at the zipper. “Oh god, you’re insane!”
“Possibly,” Graham granted, grinning as he leaned into Bay’s ear, freeing Bay’s cock from his straining jeans and boxers and holding it free in his hand. “But you’re a horny little bugger, so it turns you on.” He pulled his hand up, stroking along the length of Bay’s shaft, eliciting a defeated little moan and a jerk of Bay’s hips into his hot palm. “Doesn’t it?”
“You’re a bastard,” Bay gasped, but his hands came to tangle in the soft, curly mess of Graham’s hair. Graham sank to his knees, and continued his slow, hard strokes to Bay’s cock as he lined it up with his mouth. Graham placed an open-mouthed kiss to the head of Bay’s prick, and darted his tongue out to give it a long, so lick, causing Bay to cry out, “Oh, fuck!”
Graham growled, and took the whole head into his mouth as a reward: he did love it when Bay swore, because he did it so rarely.
Bay had to cover his mouth with his own hand to stop him from shouting obscenities for all the world to hear, as Graham started to work his way down Bay’s cock, working it into his mouth until Bay could swear he was halfway down the other man’s throat. He groaned aloud, unable to contain it, and then bit down on his index finger as Graham moved his head back, dragging the flat of his tongue and just a hint of his teeth along Bay’s prick until it finally slipped out of his lips.
Graham paused a moment, then, just long enough for Bay to glance down and meet his eyes. Graham blew a stream of cool air against glistening flesh, and then smirked as Bay’s head hit the shelves again with a whimpering gasp. He slipped the head between his lips again and chuckled, the sound vibrating and resonating through Bay’s limbs until he thought he would collapse.
And then, then it was all a frenzy of sucking and kissing and in and out, the wet heat of Graham’s mouth and the sharpness of his teeth and the soft velvet of his tongue stroking against him, and Bay thought he would lose his mind. One hand was clamped against his mouth, trying to muffle his groans and whimpers as Graham sucked and sucked at him, while the other fisted and dragged at the other man’s soft, curly hair, drawing him forward and back, as if Bay were fucking his mouth.
One of Graham’s hot, strong hands reached down from where they framed Bay’s hips and started to toy with his balls, cupping and squeezing, stroking by turns, soon in rhythm with the bobbing of his head and the thrusting of Bay’s hips. Bay could barely see straight from sensation: his cock surrounded by perfect heat and pressure, Graham’s little grunts that vibrated through every muscle of his body, the hot, hard flesh of Graham’s palm and calloused fingers rubbing and stroking his balls over and over, harder and faster. All of it was so wrong, in public and anyone could see them, anyone could see Graham on his knees with Bay’s cock fucking his mouth, with Bay’s hands in his hair and Graham’s hands all over him and know that they were together.
One more scrape of Graham’s teeth against the underside of Bay’s cock had him coming, hard, biting down painfully hard on his finger to keep from shouting aloud. Graham drank him down, sucking and sucking until Bay was entirely spent. He could taste copper in his mouth from his own finger, and realised he’d bitten hard enough to draw blood.
He looked down to see Graham’s eyes dilated until they were near pitch black, wiping his mouth and grinning against his sleeve. He tucked Bay away and stood, taking Bay’s hand in his and examining it.
“You’re an excitable bugger, aren’t you?” he asked, looking at the teethmarks. Bay nearly came again, spent or no, when Graham took the digit into his mouth and laved the cut with his tongue, soothing it.
“What about you?” Bay asked, glancing down and seeing the noticeable bulge in Graham’s own jeans, “Not excitable at all I see?”
“What’re you gonna do about it?” Graham asked, voice pitched low, and Bay grinned.
He leaned into Graham’s ear, pulling him against him so he was pinned against the bookshelves, Graham’s hands braced on either side of his shoulders. “I’m going to take you in my hand,” he whispered, sliding his palm down Graham’s stomach and under his shirt, past his waistband and under his briefs, to do just that. Graham sighed and groaned, a slow stream of air against Bay’s throat, and pressed a heated kiss there.
“And?” he prompted, nibbling at Bay’s jaw.
Bay knew Graham enjoyed dirty talk, almost as much as he enjoyed any physical act. And while he’d always felt nervous about it, silly when the bedroom was meant for wordless activities, reading and sleeping and sex, this was different. He’d felt so free, being sucked off in public and almost wanting someone to see… why not talk here, surrounded by words? Why not give the man he might be falling in love with all that he wanted?
“And then I’m going to pump your cock with my fist until you come for me,” he continued, smirking against Graham’s neck as he grasped him as firmly as he knew Graham liked it and started to pull hard, grinding his whole fist around Graham’s heavy, swelling cock as Graham groaned against him. “And you’re going to make a mess, having fucked my hand so hard, so we’ll go to the bathroom to clean up,” he continued, and Graham nodded. “And you’ll fuck me in one of the stalls,” he chuckled, very quietly, when he heard the strangled little gasp Graham made at that. “You’ll bend me over against the wall, and I’ll spread all nice and wide for you. I want you to fuck me, Graham,” he promised, “I want you inside me, pounding me, making me want to scream.”
Graham groaned, low and long and Bay knew he was close, almost there, and his pumping hand increased its pressure and pace, pulling him off mercilessly without any thought for gentleness.
“You’ll slide up inside me,” he continued, breathlessly, “And you’ll fuck me so hard, hitting the place that makes me cry out whether I like it or not. And everyone will hear and know that I’m yours, that you’re the one fucking me in the bathroom stall and that I want you to, claiming me in public.” He sucked on Graham’s earlobe, then punctuated it with a little bite of his teeth. He was just spouting feelings and dirty nonsense, now, unable to think or filter as the images assailed his own mind. “I’m yours, Graham, and I desperately need for you to fuck me.”
“Oh, lord,” Graham groaned, and spilled himself in Bay’s hand.
They were both breathing hard, and Bay, in a last moment of inspiration, lifted his drenched hand to his lips and sucked the fingers clean. He wasn’t overly fond of the taste, but it wasn’t unpleasant either, and Graham’s wanton little growl was well worth it.
“God above, Bay,” Graham said, “where’ve you been hiding that?”
“I like bookshops,” Bay shrugged, grinning, “did you like it?”
“Reading’d be almost worth it if it lead to more of that,” Graham agreed, and kissed him hard, bruising lips and teeth that left Bay trembling and breathless, hands back tangled in Graham’s hair.
“Want to find a bathroom to clean up in?” Bay asked, eyes dancing and merry, and Graham nodded with flattering urgency, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him out of the classics section. They could go book shopping later.