Fic: "All I want for Christmas". John Simm/David Tennant, R

[filthgoblin]

Title: All I want for Christmas...
Authors: filthgoblin and terraswrath 
Fandom: RPS
Protagonists: John Simm/David Tennant
Rating: R
Warnings: This is RPS. That's slash involving REAL PEOPLE. If that isn't your thing, or you find the pairing of real people with other real people in a fantasy setting icky then please do not read. I'm happy to have people bitch about the writing, but not about the subject matter. It's also rather angsty. Reader beware.
Disclaimers: These two men are not the real deal, but the facsimilies of the same who refuse to leave terraswrath and I alone.
Author's notes: This was supposed to be fluffy Christmas fic, but went a bit, um, wrong... Gushing thanks from both of us to silvaa , who beta'd this for us.

David hops up the steps to John's flat, humming away to himself, jumping from one Christmas carol to the next. The cardboard box in his arms wouldn't be so heavy if not for the six bottles of wine in a carrier on top of it, he decides, as he leans against the door to support himself. He catches his appearance in the glass and smirks at how debauched he looks, his cheeks flushed an unnatural red and hair tousled from the fight he'd had to get the decorations out in the first place. The shirt he's wearing bares an unnatural amount of flesh, being worn-in so much the top button had come away and he hadn't had time to sew it back on. He'd thought logically about it and decided that the tinsel now wrapped around his neck would definitely help. Giggling to himself, knowing he's definitely tipsy, he shrugs his elbow out to press the buzzer. Still giggling he presses out a rhyme, knowing the inevitable delay John takes to get to the door.

Gasping quietly, John is started from his reverie reading the evening paper sprawled across the sofa, iPod playing out softly through the speakers on random. Folding the paper and putting it on the arm of the couch, he pushes himself up and stretches. The door buzzes again. "Fuck's sake" he grumbles, heading for the intercom as it strikes up into a series of buzzes that he vaguely recognises as "Jingle Bells". Snatching up the handset he snaps a short "What?" down the line to the unseen and unspeakably irritating caller below.

"Joooohhhnnnnn," David sing-songs into the intercom sensually, before breaking out in a fit of giggles, stumbling against the wall and steadying the wine bottles as they slide over the cardboard. Once he's sure it won't start to fall again he leans into the speaker, nearly touching it with his mouth, unaware that his voice comes out largely as static and very, VERY loud on John's end. "Can I come up? I have wine and decorations. Lots of wine. And decorations." He shakes the box so John can hear then steadying the crate again as it slips under his chin.

Even though he rolls his eyes, John can't help smiling at the vision conjured up by the cacophany of noise spewing out of the tiny speaker of the intercom phone. "Could only be..." he chides in mock irritation and presses the door release. "Push the door and up the stairs"

"Thankyouuuuuuu," David sing-songs again before shouldering the door open, bursting into a loud rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" that even John can hear from the second floor, David's voice out of tune all the way. Only when David is at the 'youuuuuuuuu' part does he finally stumble to John's door. Well, what he thinks is John's door. It's only when he's staring intently at the number trying to remember if it’s the right one that a thought crosses his mind. Loudly he yells, "John, you'll have to come open the door for me! Hands are full from the wine and decorations! I told you there were lots!!" He grins to himself, pleased. Now he doesn’t have to go knocking on a stranger's door and embarass himself. It doesn't cross his mind that the whole building probably knows of his presence.

John rolls his eyes again and swings the door open, expecting from the volume to find David standing right outside but faced with an empty corridor. Slipping off a shoe to prop the door ajar he pads to the edge of the landing and calls out in a slightly more measured tone "up one more", hearing a clatter of footsteps and rattle of bottles as David moves to take the last set of stairs whilst he retreats to hold the door open for him to enter the flat. Since he's one-shoe-off already, he kicks off the other as he closes the door behind David, following him into the lounge. "What's all this then?" he asks, dipping his hand into the box and pulling out a length of rope lights, looking up to take in David's erratic hairdo and bare chest, tinsel wound tightly around his slender neck. Overcome with the mental image of David's naked torso, his mind erasing the rest of the shirt and leaving him bare with fronds of gold tinsel casting dancing sparks across his pale chest, he shudders and shakes his head, trying to focus. Seeing David wobble slightly, he reaches out to take the precariously balanced wine bottles before they smash on his pale carpet.

As soon as David’s arms are freed from the weight of the box and wine he pounces on John triumphantly, arms coming around his neck and mouth mashing clumsily against John's. The taste of alcohol, a sweet berry flavour blended into it mingles with David’s saliva, his soft lips cracked in places from the cold. Pulling away with a deliberate 'mwah' noise he flops onto the couch, restless, drink-fuelled energy has him tapping against the furniture as he looks about. Then he turns a glare on John. "Please don't tell me that beaten green THING in the corner is your tree. You bloody scrooge." He toes off his own shoes and runs a hand through his hair, making it even more wild and untidy than it was before.

"What's the point in a tree at all? No-one comes here to see it. Well, apart from you. And from that little performance I don't think you came here for the tree..."

David looks genuinely shocked, as if John had insulted him. Standing, swaying from the quickness of the action and shaking his head he crosses the room and jabs John hard in the chest. "You, sir, are a scrooge. Putting up a tree is a part of Christmas! So we're going to dress your tree and make it good." Suddenly he bursts into giggling, leaning against John and sliding his hands under his shirt. His fingers are cold against John’s warm skin, his cheek cool as it presses against the other man's. Softly he sings, "There is just one thing I need..."

"And you..." John pushes David backwards gently "...are drunk". John sighed. He didn't care about the tree. Nor did he much care about Christmas away from home, but he was glad of the company even if it meant conceding to this latest whim of David's to have a few companiable hours. "So, go on then" he pressed, going to the cabinet for a corkscrew and some glasses. "Show me what you've got."

"I have tinsel," David points to his neck where the gold trim winds around and then disappears under his slightly crumpled white shirt. Snickering at this as he prances over to the box, pulling it open and extracting the festive articles from their home. "And lights. Lots of pretty lights. Can't have a Christmas tree without lights! Baubles, now THEY'RE a must. They're silver, you see, very stylish..." David continues to babble like a little kid, talking animatedly as he pulls an assortment of decorations out of the box. By the time he's finished he's kneeling on the floor beside the table, going back over everything just in case he forgot something. When John hands him the glass filled with the wine he gives a cry of elation, throws a bauble over his shoulder and against the couch and takes it. "I do love my mulled wine!" And then begins to drink it like pop.

"Steady with that" John warns with a chuckle, taking in the lights wound around his one wrist and the precarious tilt of his wine glass. "Drunkenness and electricity do not mix". Taking a sip of his own wine and setting the glass on the table, he takes David's from him and repeats the action before offering a hand to help him up from the floor, a charge passing between the two as David slips his long fingers into the palm of John's hand and uses the leverage to get himself off the floor. "Come on then" says John "let's make a start if you're going to insist on getting all excitable about it". He moves as if towards the tree, but David does not release his hand.

David makes a soft noise in his throat, reaching out for the drink as he half-stumbles over to the tree. John distracts him by squeezing his hand, and once again David is overcome with giggles, deliberately falling into John. Smirking, he awkwardly slides his free hand back under John's shirt, resting it flat as his cool palm slides over John's skin, "You should be more excited. It's Christmas and you should be happy and merry and..." Promptly he looks him up and down before letting his gaze rest on John's crotch. "... A bit less flaccid," he mumbles, pouting.

Smiling and steering David away from the table for fear of him knocking something over, John reaches for the box of decorations. "I'm a bit behind you on this one. Give me chance to catch up. You've had half an afternoon's drinking and a solo cab ride to get the horn. All I've had is a giggling pissant trying to force me to deck the halls. Doesn't really guarantee a hard-on in my book..." He straightens up with box in hand and leans back into David's hand, not daring to move any further in case he fluttered off on another flight of whimsy and took away the deliciously chilled contact with his skin.

Instead of coming up with a suitable reply, David starts giggling madly. He tweaks one of John's nipples before extracting his hand from under the shirt, then drags John by the hand over to the Christmas tree, singing a loud, slurred rendition of 'Deck the Halls'. Tilting against John he kisses him quickly, taking the box from him and dropping him out of his feet. He rifles through some pine cones and throws a few at John. "Get decorating, hot stuff. Christmas guidelines say sex can happen only until the tree is half-decorated. HALF." He points a finger at John seriously, as if it were a life-or-death matter.

"I'm not sure when you decided you get to call the shots" retorts John, feeling a charge of electricity run up his spine as David drops to his knees in front of him to rifle though the box. Stepping forward to close the gap between them, he runs a hand into David's dishevelled mop and tilts his face to look down at him. "If you want to want to ease your disappointment at my apparent lack of enthusiasm you're in the right place to do it..."

David raises his head to arch a brow at John's crotch. He seems to mentally war with his Christmas devotion and his obvious raging libido before shrugging with a soft, "Fuck it, Santa left me an early present." And he promptly leans forward and nuzzles and mouths against John's cock in his trousers. He appears to be a bit too tipsy to be able to coordinate his hands to open John's button so tugs on his trousers instead.

Stiffening in his jeans, John stifles a groan and smirks at David's drunken mouthing over his crotch. "Need a bit of help there?" Reaching down, John unfastens his fly with all the casual nonchalance he can muster with a huge erection straining to jump into David's eager mouth. He's torn for a second between wanting to kiss that wet, reddened mouth or thrust straight into it. David doesn't wait for him to make a decision, swallowing his cock in one and gripping his arse, pulling him right to the back of his throat.

David devours John's cock like his life depends on it, his long fingers curling around John's denim-clad arse and squeezing tight. He kneads his buttocks, presses them together as he urges the man balls-deep into his mouth. When John's cock slides down his throat David makes none of the usual effort to fight his gag reflex - he chokes on John's erection soundly, saliva glistening over his lower lip and slowly sliding down to his jaw. Already David looks utterly immoral - hair a mess, skin flushed and knees trembling, so utterly breakable. Withdrawing only a little his flushed lips come around John's length and he sucks firmly; dark eyes stare up at John, blink and close as David moans around him. The vibrations catch the tip of John's cock as he presses his tongue into the slit.

"Oh fuck..." John hisses as his knees weaken. With one hand he reaches out to hold onto the sideboard, the other burying itself in David's dishevelled hair, using it to tilt his head backwards and watching tears form at the corners of his eyes as he eases slowly forwards. His hand runs down David's cheek until his thumb is at the corner of his mouth, sweeping lightly through the silvery trail of saliva there and rubbing it underneath his cock along David's bottom lip. "So fucking dirty" he mumbles. "Look at you". He shudders as David's tongue circles the head, and an idea dawns. "Actually, I think you should look at yourself". Reluctantly he withdraws his cock from that hot mouth and offers both his hands to help a confused-looking David up from the carpet, kissing his reddened lips as he straightens to full height, keeping hold of one hand and leading him back into the hallway, stopping next to the full-length mirror opposite the coatstand. "Do it again" John commands. "I want that dirty mouth of yours on me, but I want you to watch yourself as you do it"

David is suddenly incapable of coherent speech, just a soft noise at the back of his throat as his heated gaze glances between the mirror and John. Suddenly his hands spring to life, tugging John closer before dropping heavily to his knees - they both hear the hard thud, though the ache that comes with it is dulled by alcohol - and David swallows John's cock again, expression creasing into one of perverse concentration. Still no control over his gag reflex, he stutters and convulses as he takes John deep in his throat again, his nose bumping against John's stomach. Then he starts humming out of tune to "Jingle Bells", choking all the way. His eyes keep dancing from John to his reflection, eyes closing in arousal at watching his full mouth work around John's hard flesh. When he starts to bob his head and that image catches his eye he makes a high needy noise, clawing at the back of John's thighs as his own erection throbs within the confinements of his trousers. He pulls away just enough to pant and gasp to John's reflection "I want you." before taking the head of John's cock and teasing it with his lips and tongue.

Eyes flicking between David's face beneath him, flushed and real, and both of them reflected in the mirror, John buries both hands in David's hair and rocks his hips slowly back and forth, eventually caught up in watching the full tableau in the mirror: David's eager hands, a sensation that he feels on his body - roaming, exploring, testing - in unison with the image before his eyes of the strangely familiar yet unusually uninhibited stranger that looks back at him with lustful, hooded eyes. The buzzing sensation of the humming around his cock held taut in David's mouth; the vision of himself in the third person lightly drawing his cock across David's lips before pushing back inside his sloppy, eager mouth once again; it is almost too much to take. He pulls David's hair gently, easing himself out of David's mouth and coaxes him to his feet again to kiss him, taste of salt on David's tongue. He pulls David's loose shirt over his head and deftly unbuttons his jeans, quickly freeing his bobbing cock as he pushes his jeans and boxers clear of his knees, breathing in the musky scent of him as nose glances off cock, making David gasp. David frees himself from the jeans and stands completely naked before John who kisses him again, messily, passionately. Taking David's palm to his lips, he kisses it briefly before licking it wetly. Spinning David through 90 degrees to face the mirror John takes position behind him, peering over his shoulder, and places David's spit-wet hand on his own cock. Running his hand up David's forearm, he nibbles lightly on his neck and looks deeply into the eyes of the David reflected back at him. "Show me" he instructed. "I want to see how you look when you get yourself off when you’re home, thinking of me".

David whimpers at his own body on display, at John behind him, black eyes leering and masterly, hands running over his flesh. He arches back into the warm body behind him, letting his head fall back against his shoulder. David tilts his head and kisses John's neck, bites and licks and nibbles as he's overcome with arousal. Trying to breathe evenly, David curls his fingers around his throbbing cock, taking it in hand as he slowly starts to tease himself. It isn’t long before he’s breathless, David gasping into John's ear, "Like... this. Slow, so slow, making me wait and whine and beg." He gives a soft cry as the tip of his index finger circles the head, sucking on John's ear as his eyes flicker to the mirror, looking at John's heated gaze. David's face is flushed even more as he blushes, knowing without looking that precome is already beading the head of his cock and just that touch. Clumsily he begins to quicken his pace, writhing back into John and his quick hands. "And faster and faster and faster." David's other hand slides up and back to slide through John's hair, clutch and tug at it as he loses himself in a fantasy. His eyes glaze over and he stares unseeing into John's reflection, hips bucking and soft, convulsed moans choking past his bruised lips.

The sensation of David's bare arse rubbing against his cock, long since freed from his trousers, combined with the image before him of David’s light grip dancing over his own shaft draws a soft moan from John’s lips. One hand moves back down across David's forearm to lace between his fingers, slowing his pace. "No need for this to be over too soon, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing the shell of David's ear. Setting a gentler rhythm, his other hand pulls David's face to the side to kiss him once more, his fingers stroking softly across his cheek, making David turn away from John's lips to take the tickling fingers into his mouth. John hums briefly at the agile tongue circling his fingertips before removing them again with a wet smacking sound and trailing a moist line down the hollow of David's spine to his sacrum. Resting his palm on the small of David's back, John pushes his moist middle finger into the cleft of his buttocks, quickly finding the twitching hole as David pushes back into the sensation, the tip breaching the tight ring of muscle.

Arching and writhing on John's finger, David gives another soft cry as he's breached and John twists his finger, so close but not close enough to reach his prostate. David whimpers and tugs on John's hair as the digit begins to move inside him, squeezing around it just to hear John moan in his ear. Glancing to the mirror he almost collapses at the sight of John's fingers wrapped around his own, easing his frantic wanking to something slower. "Oh God," he mumbles against John as that same hand starts to squeeze, making his own tighten around his cock, the pressure building. His eyes settle back on John's unblinking gaze, silently pleading with him before gasping to the man in the mirror, "Please, please, please fuck me." Looking at his own face, full of desperation, he feels how John drowns in his expression and his cock twitches. David can't think straight anymore - his world has shrunk until there's just the man, both behind and in front of him, pleasuring him with heated looks and firm fingers.

Something in the way David looks at him in the mirror, his wide pleading eyes, makes John's stomach lurch. Quirking his finger once more, John just touches the area over David’s prostate and withdraws almost before David can register it consciously, but seeing the deepening in the colour of his eyes as he gasps in response and his pupils grow wider still. Removing his hand from David's he places a hand on each of his buttocks, squatting down on his heels and burying his face between them, his tongue swirling over and gently probing, drowning in the sensation of taste, smell and touch now his sight had been removed.

David yelps suddenly at the unexpected press of John's tongue against his arsehole, before descending into a litany of pleas and moans. His entrance tenses as he trembles on the spot, only held upright by John's firm grip on his hips. Staring at himself in the mirror, David sees his mouth fallen open as he pants loudly, skin flushed and cock throbbing. He starts to stroke himself again, roughly, desperately, "Oh God John, more..." David closes his eyes, feeling the sweat beginning to gather on his brow. The taste of John still lingers on his tongue, making him moan, the tongue probing at his arse, coaxing him open, making him yell.

The sound of David's voice contorted into yelps and pleading urges John to increase the intensity of his touch. Tongue giving way to finger, then fingers, saliva collecting between digits and slicking their way in to the second knuckle. Lapping lightly where fingers sink into flesh, John eases the tightness enough to stretch and open, preparing David for him. Absent-mindedly, his free hand finds his cock and he starts to stroke himself lightly, the flesh pulsing against his palm as he feels David twitch and relax around his fingers.

David's body arches on the spot as John pushes his fingers inside him again, the sensation of a tongue around his stretched hole making him gasp, his toes curl and arse clench. It's when John takes his other hand away that his breath catches in his throat - he can almost see John's hand rasping up and down his cock behind his eyes, making his own hand squeeze and quicken. It's only when he notices precome messily coating his fingers that he pulls away as if burned, moaning breathlessly into the hallway, "John I'm.. not going to last." He stares at the mirror, wanting to collapse against it, to bend over for John.

Carefully, John withdraws his mouth and fingers from David's arse, the keening sound of loss from David's lips shooting straight to his cock. Rocking back on his heels and standing up, he leans in nuzzles at the soft space where David's shoulder meets his neck. He looks intently into reflected David's eyes. "Are you ready for me?"
Wordlessly David stares at John in the mirror before turning his head and grazing his spit-wet lips against John's temple. Rolling his hips back he whines at the feeling of John's throbbing hardness pressing insistently against his body. Breathlessly he whispers, "Yes, oh god yes." He can still feel John's intense, intoxicating gaze on him in the mirror, at his naked, sweat-slick body. It makes him mouth at his ear, reach back and take hold of John's hips, pushing him into his body and making him feel his quivering form.

Allowing his hands to move across David's shoulders and down his body, he briefly squeezes his long fingers with his own and drops off the ends of his limbs, sweeping back up over thighs and across buttocks, pushing them apart. In response to the pressure, David leans forward slightly, pressing his arse back into John's' hands which he in turn shifts to grip lightly over David's hips. Moving his left hand to his mouth, he spits into it as delicately as he can, stroking the moisture over his cock and pressing two fingers once more inside David, testing. They slip in easily, David's eyes fluttering closed and grinding back against the exploratory probing. John pulls out one last time, steadying his cock with his hand and pulling David towards him, easing gradually inside him, gasping and chewing his lip as the heat, the tightness, surround him and draw him in.

Shaking and writhing, David is held tight in John's grip as he keens quietly to himself, the feeling of John breaching him making his erection twitch and throb mercilessly. John's cock opens up his passage wider than fingers ever could, and he bites his lip while trying to grind back on it, to take it completely and be filled by John. The odd position makes his legs tremble so he leans forward, reaching out and pressing his palms flat to the wall, almost bent over for John. The position is easier, lends to John pushing deeper inside him and making the muscles in his arse clench sinfully tight. He glances up in the mirror, at John's dominant expression, black eyes and flickering tongue, throwing him his own heated stare back.

Fixing David with an unblinking stare and using the benefit of his newfound stability as he leans against the wall, John releases his grip on the left hip and runs his hand up David's long, smooth back. Trailing his fingers lightly back down, he briefly allows his hand to drop to the gap between their bodies, feeling the tautness of David stretched tight around him, growling in his throat at the soft whimpering sounds coming from David's mouth. Straightening up slightly, he angles his strokes to press directly against David's prostate, allowing his gaze to wander down to David's cock bobbing in response. Reaching around his body, he stops himself and balls his hand into a loose fist as he changes his mind. "Touch yourself again. Like you did before. I want to watch you come and I want you to do it just how you like it".

Twitching and writhing at every brush of John's fingers over his skin, David dips his back so he can force himself back onto John's cock, gasping as he presses balls-deep inside of him and against his prostate. His mumblings of "There, right there, fuck me..." are cut short by John's request. Staring back at John he blinks before his eyes drop half-closed, "How I like it..?" Feeling John's remaining firm hand on his hip he slides his hand to John's and pulls it to his cock, letting his fingers wrap around John's and close them over his cock, "I like it.. like this.." And with a loud groan and an arch of his back he begins to pump his cock as roughly and desperately as he can, crying out on every upward twist of his hand at the feeling of John's fingers slipping over his slick length. David starts rocking back and forth on John's cock, torn between both pleasures, his reflection completely debauched. The sweat, the heat, the bursts of pleasure urge him onward, making his expression twist into ecstasy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, John."

The tightly-held self control John has maintained until this point dissolves as the vision of David's flushed, sweaty face looking back at him from the mirror combines with the sensation of his slick cock slipping through his fingers and the muscles in his arse tensed around him, so close to release. A sound of abandon is torn from John's throat as he plunders David from behind and holds him together with his hands, fingers digging into David's hip, squeezing his cock. He sets up a punishing pace, racing closer to his own orgasm. "Fuck... David... I need you... I'm going to... Please..."

At the sudden hard, driving thrusts against his prostate David cries out, scrabbling at the wall and urging John on with his hand tightening around his, the wanking becoming more and more erratic, fingers slipping and then catching hold again, urging John's to the tip of his cock. David's head drops a little but he refuses to look away, refuses to blink, his dark eyes wide and full of wild, insatiable lust. Even though the pace is rubbing his clenched entrance raw he arches his hips back to meet John at every thrust, wailing as he fucks his prostate. "I know I'm.. so close.. so fucking close... oh god John, make me come, make me..." David's orgasm catches him by surprise, his eyes widening before squeezing shut, body going completely rigid as his hips thrust with abandon, desperate and fuelled by the waves of pleasure crashing down around him. He can barely hold himself up against the wall as spurt after spurt of come leaves his cock, John's hand clasped around the tip as he fucks his palm. His passage convulses wildly, milking John's cock as David continues to cry and scream and threaten to bring the roof down about their ears.

The sight, the sound, the sensation, it's too much. As David clenches around his cock, he loses control, pouring obscenities over David's back and filling him with seemingly endless bursts of hot liquid. Quaking and unable to stop, he thrusts ineffectually as he began to soften, releasing David from his grip and holding his hips for support. Looking for one last time in the mirror, he steps back and turns David to face him, unsure when this all got so serious.