camp triple pine//lawrusso

10. against the tree

Larusso was hard against Johnny's leg.

Johnny could feel it, just half-hard and probably not that significant. But it's against his leg, and he doesn't imagine Larusso was running around like that earlier. Johnny must have done something to make it happen.

"Hey, it's--look at me--" Johnny turns Larusso's head towards him, and he can feel Larusso's jaw warm and tense beneath his fingertips. He doesn't know why he wants his eyes on him, with how awkward the situation is, it's probably best they don't lock eyes, but Larusso is compliant anyway. "It's alright, man. With all the adrenaline and all..." he leans in closer, tentative, as if whispering is necessary when they're this far and this hidden from the others. Johnny feels he shouldn't move his leg except to pull away, but he's never been good at following the rules. He moves his leg up against Larusso's hard-on, Larusso grinding down microscopically and letting out a strangled noise from his throat (which did something else entirely to Johnny, holy shit) in turn. "It's alright, Daniel..."

And then, as if Daniel is some sort of creature of unimaginable longing and passion Johnny had read about in one of the girls' smut books back at the Big Cabin, he pushes forward, crushing his lips against Johnny's.

Johnny only hesitates for a moment, every implication of what the fuck going out the window as Johnny's hands make their way around Daniel's waist. Daniel's arms wrap around Johnny's neck, his grinding motion becoming more noticeable once it clicked that Johnny was kissing him back.

When Daniel's tongue brushes Johnny's lips, and Johnny opens his mouth a little, he notices Daniel's kiss tastes like s'mores; marshmallow, chocolate, graham cracker and all. Johnny was never one to crave s'mores, but tasting them on Daniel's lips seemed to do something entirely different to Johnny. He let out a soft, pleading noise against Daniel's lips, a hand coming up to palm Daniel through his thin summer shorts.

(Johnny thought he'd never touch another guy like this. If it were Bobby or Tommy or one of his other boys that got hard against him before putting the moves on him, Johnny would probably beat the shit out of them. But something about it being Daniel--he couldn't, or didn't want to--say no.)

Daniel whined against his lips, rolling his hips into the pressure of Johnny's hand, Johnny nuzzling the crook of Daniel's neck. He kissed the sensitive skin there all the way down to his collarbones, careful not to leave marks despite how much he wanted to; they'd have no way to get rid of them.

"I'm gonna take care of you," Johnny whispered, surprised his own voice came out husky rather than needy in its own right. "Yeah?" his hands roved up Daniel's shirt, examining the terrain with his touch as if considering owning it.

Daniel's back arched a little, urging Johnny closer if possible. "Y-Yeah, you're doing good, Johnny, just please--"

And Johnny doesn't want Daniel to ask for anything. Before he can plead--as beautiful a sound as it would be--Johnny's hands pull down Daniel's shorts and underwear, taking his length in hand and starting to stroke.

Daniel makes a strained noise against the place where his head is resting on Johnny's shoulder. "Yeah," he nods, face flushed a beautiful pink. "Yeah, that's it, mm-hm..." he leans his head back into the tree, eyes closed, as if presenting Johnny with the column of his neck. Johnny kisses his throat, relishing the feeling Daniel shuddering under his touch.

Johnny used to be the king of dirty talk. Well, he'd only been with one other person, that being Ali, and she'd said he was good at it. Now, however, his mind went blank, only thinking 'Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, oh my god this is hot, wow he's really pretty and he's just getting off, is he wearing mascara' and nothing of any actual substance.

"So pretty," Johnny murmurs finally, touching Daniel the same ways he liked to be touched, and it seemed to have the same effect all around. Daniel was writhing, huffing as he gripped Johnny's shirt like a lifeline. "Such a good boy...my good boy...I'd love to have you begging for my cock so I can get in on this too, you know. Would you like that? You want me to fuck you until you can't even think, pretty boy?" And he figures that that has to be good enough to warrant some kind of reward, so he provides himself some relief, touching himself through his shorts; he feels like he might be coming in his shorts like a middle schooler at any second anyway, but he might as well get some pleasure for all his hard work.

Daniel whimpers, eyes locking with Johnny as he bit his bottom lip (god, is he trying to look like a sultry brunette straight from one of his Playboys?). "God, you can't just--hah~s-say stuff like that, Johnny--oh, I think I'm close~"

"Go ahead, then," Johnny huffs out, eagerly chasing his own release. "Next time, I'll have you coming more than once~" Before Johnny can truly think on the implications of his words, Daniel cups Johnny's cheeks, crushing their lips together again as he comes on Johnny's hand. He thanks Johnny over and over, a mantra of sorts that's music to his ears as Johnny finds his own release.

"The red team wins!" a distant voice, something that felt like a distant planet away, shouted as if to rouse them back into reality. Daniel was still looking at Johnny with those lust-blown eyes, a whine leaving his lips that Johnny quickly muffled with a deep kiss.

"We won't tell a soul," Daniel breathes against his lips, and it was so given that Johnny hadn't even felt the need to say it.

"No one," Johnny agrees, pulling away before he felt the need to keep kissing any part of Daniel he could reach. "We should find a creek, get cleaned up."

Typically, going to the creek at Camp Triple Pine is a sign for a date. But it's not, not for them. No, they just get cleaned off and go back to the group, mouths shut and eyes wary.