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[xstarlesscity]

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GUIDELINES:

- you can be anon, but you don't have to be anon. you take full credit for your pervy thoughts if you like, but don't feel pressured.
- one prompt per post, please.
- read over the requests and fill them with fic and art. both are encouraged!
- a post can be filled multiple times. just because someone drew it doesn't mean you can't write it, or draw it again. and again and again and again. the more the merrier.
- absolutely NO hating on other people's kinks. there is a 0% chance that writing or requesting fic or art will hurt anyone, so live and let live.
- pimp us around! most of this fandom isn't on lj, so the more this gets pimped, the more likely it is that your requests will get filled. post the banner on tumblr with a click-through link to this page!


this fandom is seriously lacking in kink.
let's get this party started.

Comments

Fill 2/3

[(Anonymous)]

They had really gotten into talking after that. Sonny wasn’t very articulate, but he was a smart kid and definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to music. It was obvious he was going places, that music was more than just a way to drugs and girls for him. Eventually they migrated to the bar and Joel bought Sonny two or three beers, which he refused at first but eventually gave into. He might have bought another three or four for himself as well. By the time the party was starting to thin out, they were both giggling like school girls and riding a good buzz.

“Dude,” Joel broke into giggles. He righted himself, “Dude, you are awesome.”

“What’s awesome?” Sonny was smiling wider than ever and swaying on his chair.

“Everything. Everything about you,” giggle, “Except your dancing.”

Sonny tried to look affronted, but instead broke into further laughter.

“No, really, you really suck.”

“Jerk.”

“Don’t hate me for telling the truth, dude.”

Sonny sat up strait, teetered, then found his balance. He placed a hand on his hip and smirked. “Well, if you’re such an expert, maybe you should teach me or some shit.”

“Okay then, I will.”

The boy’s face fell. “Seriously? Uh, dude, I don’t wanna be rude, but wouldn’t that be a little, ya’ know… weird?”

Joel snorted. “Like anyone’s gonna care; they’re all more drunk than I am.”

“You are pretty drunk.”

“Sure fuckin’ am,” Joel stood, wavering only slightly as his feet hit the floor, “Now move your ass.”

“Where the hell is Matt, he should be talking me out of bad ideas like this.”

“Move.”

Sonny did and Joel grabbed his hand, dragging him into the center of the dance floor. The music was still pumping, loud and obnoxious, and the dancers that were left were almost exclusively couples trying as hard as they could to procreate through their jeans. No one paid attention to the odd pair that had just entered their midst.

“Okay,” Joel said, dropping Sonny’s hand, “now dance.”

Sonny rubbed his neck, “Aren’t you gonna teach me first, hot stuff?”

“Yeah, and we start with you dancing so I know what I’m working with.”

Sonny bit his lip and closed his eyes. He got into it slowly; the music was shit but he was tipsy and he began nodding and bobbing along after a cycle or two. He jumped cautiously, then spiritedly, finally lifting his arms and bringing his hips into play. He was a little stiff, but as time went on he fully immersed himself in the sound, seeming to completely forget Joel was there.

Joel felt like a creep, just standing there, watching. His dancing was as bad as he remembered, perhaps more so now that Sonny was a few beers south of sober, and still entirely too hot. This was a bad idea. A bad idea he couldn’t bring himself to regret.

He slid his pointer finger into the younger man’s belt loop, bringing Sonny to a sudden halt. “Don’t stop.” Sonny bit his lip but moved his hips again, jeans gapping slightly where Joel’s finger’s pulled.

“You have no sense of rhythm,” Joel said, and he placed his hands softly on Sonny’s hips, “You need to have a pattern going on. Something steady…”

He moved his hands in a vague figure-eight motion, taking Sonny’s pelvis with them, slow and sensual and not with the beat of the music at all. He moved closer until he was just a few inches from the singer, but still they only touched where his hands met those hips. Joel could hear Sonny’s breath coming out in long, shuddering exhales, his hands were held out awkwardly at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Dude,” he breathed.

“Yeah?” Joel said. Sonny didn’t answer.

This wasn’t teaching him how to dance. This was just strait up dancing with him, and they both knew it. The air between them was thick as taffy and about as breathable. Sonny finally brought his arms up to drape loosely around Joel’s neck.

“You’re a shitty teacher,” he said, but there wasn’t any force behind it.

“Never said I was a good one.”