Work Text:
Driver x Julian Thompson
Julian shuddered at the cool metal of the hammer’s claw against his cheek. In equal measures, he wanted the man stood before him to smash his restrained hands to smithereens or to fuck him. But Driver would never hurt him. Not really. And he knew he didn’t deserve the second option. This scenario was a good way to meet in the middle.
He watched closely as Driver perched on the edge of the bed, midriff showing just above his jeans where his jacket had ridden up. Julian swallowed hard at that, and he almost choked when Driver took the hammer and dragged it slowly, deliberately, over the growing bulge in his own jeans.
Driver didn’t moan at the friction, but Julian saw his breath hitch in his chest as it dragged over his clothed cock.
His free hand, still gloved, popped open the fastening of his trousers and slid teasingly slowly beneath the waistband of his underwear. His head dropped back and Julian’s jaw clenched, his own trousers suddenly far too tight. Julian wanted to see Driver’s cock, but he wouldn’t ask.
And he didn’t need to; Driver shifted his underwear down and pulled his cock out, thick and long and dripping with precum, trickling down over his gloves, turning the tan a darker brown where it pooled.
Julian’s hips bucked involuntarily and he silently chastised himself for it, training his focus on the way Driver’s hand was moving so gracefully over his length, stroking softly, and trying not to imagine how those hands might feel on him.
He wanted that. God, right now he wanted it more than anything. And Driver looked so good bathed in the red neon, his hair becoming tousled as he chased his pleasure, his intense gaze on Julian becoming heated.
Driver’s head fell forward, the hammer he had been holding tightly banging heavily to the floor with a dull thud as he gripped desperately onto the bed sheets instead.
Julian watched in awe as Driver spilled completely, thick creamy seed bright against the dark leather of his glove, and dripping down onto his jeans. Julian wondered whether the stain would still be there next time. Driver didn’t seem to mind the blood stain on the bottom of his jacket, after all.
With a relieved exhale, Driver stood, hastily tucking himself back into his jeans with a hiss as the cloth of his underwear grazed his softening, sensitive cock. He smoothed his clean glove through his mussed hair, wiping the other on the corner of the bedsheets before collecting his hammer from the floor and flexing his fingers around it.
Julian was flushed hot, not that Driver would be able to tell in this light, and feeling desperate. He managed to restrain himself from making any sound, despite the overwhelming urge to beg.
Driver tilted his head, gazing at Julian for a moment, silent and unreadable as ever, then turned and left, Julian still tied to the chair, aching and leaking into his underwear.
Driver x Luke Glanton
Luke’s hands were as big as Drivers, that was clear to see. But while Driver had strong mechanic’s hands, Lukes, what with regularly squeezing around his motorcycle handlebars, were stronger.
They wrapped around Driver’s wrists with ease, pinning both his arms up above his head against the side of the trailer.
Driver was desperately breathless from the bruising kiss they’d just shared, cock straining in his jeans, and Luke noticed, smirking as he eyed him.
‘Sensitive, aren’t you,’ Luke drawled, leaning back in for a slightly more gentle kiss that made Driver’s head spin.
Luke thought he heard a whine, but it was so quiet he couldn’t be sure. Still, it stirred deep within his core, the familiar heat of arousal pulling at his cock, too.
With one last glance up and down Driver’s strong but skinny frame, he dove forward, licking a warm stripe up Driver’s neck and grinding against his stunt companion with a measured and deliberate roll of his hips, rutting faster as bliss spread through him.
Driver was losing control, squirming against the cool metal, weak in Luke’s grasp and driving him crazy with arousal.
Luke moaned, loud and unrestrained, their clothed cocks throbbing at the friction.
‘Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants- fuck,’ Luke muttered against Driver’s cheek, dipping back down to nip at his throat.
Those words sent a thrill through Driver’s body. He hadn’t actually done anything other than melt like putty in Luke’s warm hands, allow himself to be pressed against a trailer and writhe pathetically while Luke humped him.
Dizzy at the thought, his head dropped into the crook of the petty blonde’s neck and with a loud, shaky gasp, he came hard, filling his underwear with a release so forceful it shook his entire body, rocking the trailer with them.
‘Oh, that’s it baby, cum for me,’ Luke panted huskily, feeling his own climax fast approaching.
Driver dropped weakly against the trailer as his orgasm subsided, and Luke released the grip on his wrists, snaking both his arms around his lithe waist to keep him pressed close.
Driver’s fingers bruised against Luke’s thighs, his twitching, softening cock sensitive against the rough fabric still sliding rapidly against it.
‘Mmh,’ Luke moaned, his eyes on Driver’s handsome, fucked out face, ‘oh, fuck, yes-’
And as promised, he came in his pants, a rough growl vibrating through Driver’s core, causing a whimper to escape his parted lips.
Luke gradually slowed to a stop before kissing Driver again with the softest, most languid kiss he’d ever received.
‘Hey, I didn’t hurt you did I?’ Luke worried as he pulled away, stepping back and allowing Driver to gasp for some much needed air.
He didn’t answer, he just watched as Luke picked up each of his wrists in those big, strong, tattooed, hands and tenderly massaged where he’d gripped them hard before.
Driver felt a tear threatening his eyes and clenched his jaw, just about managing to keep it inside as Luke reached around to his lovers back pocket, pulling out the leather gloves he’d seen him stash there on the walk back here, and carefully slipping each one onto his hands for him, cupping his cheek with a warm palm when he was done. Driver leant into the touch so easily, Luke chuckled.
‘Don’t be a stranger, alright?’ Luke smiled, winking and after another look up and down, disappeared into his trailer.
Driver caught his breath and gathered himself. He knew he would be back again for sure. And not just to practise motorcycle stunts.
No, next time, he wanted to get inside that trailer. To wrap his hands around Luke, maybe… around that stupid Heartthrob tattoo decorating his throat. The one he couldn't stop thinking about.
Driver x Lars Lindstrom
Driver leaned back against the porch, one knee bent as he propped his foot against the slightly flaky white cladding behind him.
Lars had wanted to light a fire for the evening, ever the romantic, and Driver felt an instant thrill run through him at the thought of watching him prepare it.
When Lars watched Driver work on a car at the garage after hours, he had this mesmerised, glazed over look in his eyes, and it was always so easy for Driver to make him sing afterwards, loud whimpers and gasping moans echoing through the empty garage as his oil coated hands worked Lars over just how he liked it.
Tonight, the roles were reversed.
Lars was strong, stronger than even he realised. But Driver had noticed. Lars didn’t appear particularly athletic, but his grip was strong and his arms were powerful. So it was simple: the promise of watching Lars chop wood was just too good to pass up on.
Lars’s first brawny swing of the wood cutter had Driver heaving out a shaky exhale, his fingers clenching into tight fists as his eyes trained on Lars’s every movement.
The sharp edge of the blade splitting the wood in two made his breath catch in his throat. There was a split second that Driver imagined Lars using it for more violent purposes, and his cock stirred at that, too.
Lars continued with ease; he’d done this a thousand times, and it didn’t seem out of the ordinary to him at all. His wood chopping tool didn’t seem exciting in the least either. But then, how many cars had Driver worked on without thinking a thing of it, until Lars came along and changed his perspective for good.
Another log severed so seamlessly, and Driver felt his arousal building, almost chewing his toothpick in two. His cock was strained against the zipper of his jeans and he flexed his fingers again, needing to relieve the ache but as enticing as the thought of getting off to this delicious view was, now wasn’t the right time. He needed to see Lars build the fire for him, see his ease and confidence in the mundane task laced with amorous intentions. For him. All of this was for him.
He bit his lips together and looked away, suppressing a moan.
When he lifted his head, Lars had collected the logs under one arm, waving innocently at Driver with the other.
‘I’m done!’ he called.
Driver plucked the toothpick from between his teeth and tossed it to the ground, following as casually as he could muster back to Lars’s garage, his cock throbbing each time he took a step, the coarse fabric of his jeans rubbing up against it through his underwear.
Once inside, he made a beeline for the bed and perched on the edge, shaking off his jacket and folding it over his lap to disguise his arousal.
Lars got to work with the tiny log burner in the corner, but everything turned hazy for Driver. The fire seemed to have roared into life in the blink of an eye, images of Lars’s delicate fingers caressing the logs as he placed them almost lovingly on the grate flashing between each pump of precum from his cock.
‘Ah, much better,’ Lars muttered to himself as he admired his work and warmed his hands in front of the flames. He sat beside Driver and smiled nervously before resting his head against the leaner man’s shoulder.
Driver tried to force his breath even, but it wasn’t easy. Why did Lars have to be so soft? Always so kind and tender? It was dizzying at times like this.
Lars’s cheeks began to glow red soon enough, and he sat up to pull off his sweater, two layers of thermal underclothes still clinging to him, that, along with his newly messed up hair, made Driver’s heart leap.
Lars sensed the desire radiating from Driver and tentatively leaned in, pressing his lips carefully to his lovers, both of them leaning back until Driver was laid beneath Lars, their tongues sliding together slowly and sensually.
The heat of the fire and the weight of Lars and the way he’d displayed his strength so easily as though it was nothing, the way he’d wanted a romantic evening and would be happy with just kissing and cuddling and falling asleep together made Driver’s heart race.
He let out a hungry little mewl, muffled in Lars’s mouth, and Lars shifted above him, his thigh pressed deliciously against Driver’s cock, and that’s all it took.
Driver’s back arched off the bed, chest pressing up against Lars’s as he emptied his pent up arousal, cock throbbing through his release, aching for touch but satisfied enough with a drawn out climax that made his toes curl in his boots.
He hoped Lars wouldn’t notice. He was the one who made Lars weak at the knees, and it felt so alien yet so safe. He was sure Lars wouldn’t mind – he might even like it. But he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere Lars had put effort into cultivating, so he kept it to himself.
Lars knew immediately, of course, having learned Driver’s body fast and eagerly. He felt a stir between his own thighs, but this wasn’t about him, so he curled up beside his sated Driver, resting against his chest, wrapping a comforting arm around his middle and drawing lazy patterns into his exposed midriff as they drifted off to sleep.