When Layne woke up the next day, his neck was being tickled by Jerry's hair against his neck.
He bit his lip and nuzzled even further into the covers, and Jerry noticed.
"Layney..." he cooed, pressing kisses again the singer's shoulder blades.
"Mm, too tired."
Jerry chuckled. "Baby c'mere."
Reluctantly, the singer began to turn around, and Jerry smiled when he saw the sleepy look on Layne's face.
He hid his face, "Jerry stop."
"Nooo you're beautiful Layne lemme look at you."
He shook his head and tried pulling the covers over his head. But Jerry was quicker. He flipped the two over so he was pinning Layne down.
Layne bit his lip at the sudden dominance that Jerry had, and whimpered when he began to trail kisses along his neck teasingly.
"Y'know, you should listen to me Layne...or I might have to punish you."
Layne moaned, "I'm sorry daddy."
Jerry's eyes widened. He did not see Layne as the kinky type, but he was extremely wrong. Layne loved being submissive, he loved the idea of someone owning him.
"Damn Layney...you're a kinky motherfucker."
Layne bit his lip and looked up at Jerry, the guitarist's blonde locks falling everywhere and grazing across his neck.
Before Jerry could utter another word, Layne said seductively, "so are you gonna take me Jer, or what?"
Layne moaned when the other man smashed his lips against his, knowing that the answer was a definite yes.
YOU ARE READING
//hate to feel//
Fanfiction"Hi, my name is Jerry, what's your name?" "L-Layne. My name's Layne." In which a drug addict falls in love with a suicide hotline worker.
