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May 26

so i surrender (oh, what a pleasure)

Ship: Jolly Karlsson x Nick Folio

Content warnings: Mentions of restraints, Folio’s called “pup”/mild pet play, mattress humping, gagging on fingers, mild dirty talk, Jolly has Rules, very mild degradation (but in a sweet way — Jolly talks down to Folio more than outright insults him), begging, an almost-handjob, beloved small dick!Folio, hints of insecurity from Folio, anal fingering, Folio cries (positive), protected anal sex, cum eating.

Summary: Noah's too busy to lend a hand, so Jolly helps calm Folio instead.

Word count: Approx. 6,000 words

Author's note: This fic is part of an ongoing universe where Noah and Folio have a friends-with-benefits thing going on, but the previous entries aren't necessary for this. I had such a godawful time finishing this (pour one out for the 1.4k words I cut from the rough draft), but I did it. It's done. Special shoutout to @ami-gami — you don't know this, but you're the reason I finished this. Anyways, obligatory "writing Jolly gives me so much anxiety" disclaimer. The end could have used more, and it's been barely proofread, but I'm tired of working on it. I hope someone enjoys. Title from "Surrender" by King Mala. Divider by @/saradika-graphics.

Noah was busy. It hadn’t been obvious to Folio that he’d grown used to his hookups with Noah until they were suddenly absent and everything felt intense again.

So, with Noah occupied with interview after interview, Folio was jerking out orgasms in the tour bus bathroom, and it still wasn’t enough to sate that need for something rough and thorough and satisfying. He had been resigned to waiting until he was home to find real relief, not interested in random hookups even wound up as he was, but then he noticed Jolly watching him.

It wasn’t the usual gaze Jolly had for him, an amused sort of expression that always earned him a boyish smile from Folio. There was a weight to it, a heat, and Folio wasn’t sure if he was imagining it at first. But then Nick had made some comment about it when it was just him and Folio, and things clicked into place. Oh.

Folio had no idea how to go about hooking up with Jolly. Noah was lots of things, and he often felt too large to be a real person, but Folio knew him well enough to separate that persona and mask from Noah himself. Jolly was harder to nail down in plain terms, and Folio always had nerves wiggling in his gut when Jolly was around.

Jolly could have easily asked Folio if he wanted to hook up. He seemed confident enough, and Folio couldn’t imagine that Jolly had missed the fact that he still flustered the drummer even after all this time of them knowing each other. Eventually, Folio realized Jolly was dragging it out on purpose. Jolly was fucking with him.

The frustration that sparked in Folio was enough to make him take action, which was probably what Jolly had wanted all along. When it came time to splitting up roommates for the next hotel night, Folio had announced immediately that he had dibs on Jolly. Noah tried to pester him for an explanation, but Folio had just shrugged it off. Kind of.

It seemed like Jolly knew, though, and Nick clearly did too. Folio half-wished Nick didn’t notice everything, but at least he wasn’t the type to pry or taunt about it. Noah had just shrugged and agreed to room with Nick, and the whole thing was forgotten.

Folio couldn’t sit still once he’d secured his chance to finally get Jolly to do something. He kept bouncing on his feet, shaking out his arms; he filled the green room with the sound of him playing on his practice pad, as if he wasn’t about to beat the hell out of his drums onstage.

And the show went so fucking well. For the first time in a week, Noah seemed pleased with how things had gone; he was laughing with Folio, joking around with Nick, bumping his shoulder against Jolly’s. Nick had the type of tired air that meant he was satisfied too, and Jolly was, well, Jolly. Hard to read.

It felt like electricity was dancing some odd tango on Folio’s nerves. He was eager, and the combination of that and the euphoria from an hour-long performance meant he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself — especially when Jolly clambered in to sit next to him on the ride to the hotel.

Folio clutched both of his hands together in his lap, squeezed so tightly his knuckles went white, and he pretended he wasn’t stealing glances at Jolly every few seconds. Jolly, for his part, seemed oblivious to the lingering, repeated looks.

As soon as they parked, Folio grabbed his own bag from the back and then Jolly’s too, slinging it over his other shoulder and grinning at Jolly when the bassist asked what he was doing. “Being a gentleman,” he answered, a small, embarrassing giggle slipping out.

Jolly didn’t protest, just chuckled and nodded. “Gentleman. Got it.” He followed Folio despite the extra weight slowing Folio down, making him waddle a little. He had to crab walk sideways into the elevator, and Jolly just leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely, after he hit the button and the doors slid shut.

“Seems like you’ve got something on your mind,” Jolly remarked, and the tilt of his head matched the arch of his eyebrows. Yeah, he’d absolutely been waiting Folio out, and Folio had caved completely.

There was no chance for Folio to really answer, though, as the elevator stopped at their floor and Folio immediately tried to wiggle his way out of the doors with both duffle bags still in tow.

It was hard to take in the hotel room when Folio was once more bouncing with an eagerness that felt childish. He dropped the bags, took a moment to stretch his arms up over his head, and then turned around to find Jolly right there.

Jolly had a vague sort of amusement in his expression, eyes darkened, and just hummed as he cupped Folio’s jaw in his hand. The hand still wearing the rings that made Folio dizzy sometimes.

“You’re awful eager, pup. Do you think you’re getting a treat tonight?” Oh, and the silk in Jolly’s tone, something slow and leisurely, went straight to Folio’s dick. The little squeeze to his jaw had Folio’s lips parting slightly in a quiet little gasp, and Jolly took a moment to examine him before releasing his hold. “Maybe I’ll reward you for a good show after you shower,” he mused, a faint crinkle to his nose.

Did Folio really smell that bad? Or was it just that he was clammy with cooled sweat? Either way, the possibilities tied into those syllables had him a little hazy with want, so he just nodded eagerly and hurried to find something to change into, to snag his bag of toiletries.

Folio had a hard time keeping his hand off himself in the shower. He even took a moment to stand under freezing water to calm his hard-on — uncomfortable and unpleasant as it was, he felt more prepared to look Jolly in the eye when he wasn’t panting like a dog in heat.

Jolly was sitting on one of the hotel room beds, book in hand, when Folio emerged. He took his time finishing the page he was on, even as Folio hovered next to the bed and stared, and then he sat the novel aside to consider Folio once more. “Can you behave while I shower, or do I need to bind your wrists?” he asked, like Folio was at all prepared for something like that.

Jesus. “I, uh,” Folio stammered, taking a step back so Jolly could get to his feet. He blinked, mouth moving wordlessly, and he only came back into his body and the moment when Jolly cupped his face in both hands.

The gesture felt different than the way Jolly had snagged him by his jaw. This felt tender, an affectionate act. Jolly’s expression had shifted when they locked eyes, too, and the warmth in it had tension slipping from Folio’s shoulders.

“Nick,” Jolly started, and the weight to his words conveyed a type of solemness that narrowed Folio’s focus. “I need you to answer me before we go any further. Do you want this?” As if Folio was anywhere close to hesitant or uncertain.

Still, it felt disingenuous to agree to something when he didn’t know the terms, so Folio asked, “What is this?”

Jolly made a soft noise. “Just sex this time. Well,” he amended, “it’s never just sex. But no kink, no safewords. I don’t think you’re patient enough for me to train you tonight.” He tilted his head. “I do still expect you to follow a few rules, though. I don’t give misbehaving pups treats. It reinforces bad behavior.”

Just the thought of disappointing Jolly made Folio’s stomach drop — though the follow-up thought, that maybe he’d be punished, made it flutter instead. “I’ll be good,” he promised, voice small.

Jolly seemed to recognize the sincerity of Folio’s words; the small smile that appeared on his lips was pleased. “Good. Now, are you going to keep your hands off while I shower, or do I need to restrain you while you’re unsupervised?” he asked, returning to the previous issue.

It still wasn’t a question Folio was prepared to answer. He licked his lips, frowned, flexed his fingers at his sides. “I think I can behave,” he answered, a little hesitantly.

Despite the lack of confidence to Folio’s words, Jolly seemed content enough with the answer. Jolly released his face, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and went over to his own bag without another word.

As Folio flopped back onto the same bed Jolly had just vacated, Jolly went into the bathroom, and Folio remembered as he heard the shower turn on just how long Jolly tended to spend in it. God, was he really going to be able to sit with this anticipation and not touch himself? He was already imagining how it’d feel to wrap his fingers around his cock.

But it’d feel better if it was Jolly’s hand. His orgasm would taste sweeter if coaxed out of him by his bandmate — or, god, wrenched from his gut without mercy, taken as if it was Jolly’s to own.

All Folio could think about was the way Jolly’s rings had pressed into his skin, how his fingers were long enough to cradle his entire jaw. He imagined the way Jolly might look at him if he would wrap his lips around those digits, take them as deep as he could and suck on them something sloppy and eager. How would the rings feel? Would they clack against his teeth?

Jolly had promised a treat. What could that possibly be? Would it be Jolly’s fingers? His tongue? His cock? Folio was half-aware, as he rolled onto his front, that he was gambling dangerously, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips down and gasping at the friction. God, that felt good. He fisted the sheets, adjusted how he was laying, rocked down against the mattress again.

Maybe Folio got a little too distracted with the pleasure, because the next thing he knew, someone was clearly their throat and he was all but jumping out of his skin. He panted, staring up at Jolly — only wearing pajama pants, damp hair falling loose around his bare shoulders, expression bemused despite what Folio would have assumed was bad behavior.

“Did the pup get too excited?” Jolly mused softly. He stepped forward, carded fingers through Folio’s hair. “I didn’t expect you to be humping the furniture when I was done. I should have known that you needed supervised.”

The good thing was that Jolly didn’t sound angry. The bad bit, debatably, was that Jolly’s words made Folio’s face heat and scrunch, and his hips jerked of their own accord, which would have been defiant if Folio had done it on purpose. He whimpered some vague sort of apology and hoped that was enough, staring up at Jolly.

Folio wondered, absently, how he looked. He couldn’t imagine he was very sexy like this, but Jolly’s hot, heavy gaze begged to differ. It felt like he was being inspected, laid bare and assessed: Jolly’s gaze slid down his face, along the lines of his body, back up to his face along that same path.

A hum and a click of Jolly’s tongue; Jolly tugged on his hair and Folio obediently sat up, moving how Jolly wanted him without resistance until he was kneeling on the bed. “I’m not sure I should give you a treat now,” Jolly mused.

It probably wasn’t helpful to pout, but Folio felt his expression twist into one anyways. “Please,” he managed, “I’ll be good. I just couldn’t wait.” He felt like he had been waiting for hours, body singing with the need for touch, for friction, for movement.

Jolly considered for a long, silent moment, and then he made the faintest noise of amusement. “Alright.” He trailed the fingers of one hand along Folio’s lips, and Folio could feel his own features brighten even as he opened his mouth obediently.

The whole thing felt oddly vulnerable: Folio kneeling on the bed, lips parted and eyelids heavy with lust as he watched Jolly. He didn’t move, didn’t try to touch his bandmate or himself; he just waited to see what Jolly would do.

Jolly’s fingertips trailing along the seam of Folio’s mouth in a slow, leisurely path that looped on itself and seemed to have no real purpose, Jolly’s eyes crinkled at the corners with a faint smile as he pressed the digits into Folio’s mouth. He slid them deep enough that Folio gagged — chuckled softly as Folio made a face but tried his best not to react too strongly.

“Noah hasn’t trained you?” Jolly mused, pulling his fingers back long enough for Folio to adjust and then easing them forward again. He barely made it further than the first attempt before Folio’s throat spasmed again.

Folio’s tongue curled around Jolly’s digits as they were pulled back. Once he had nothing preventing him from speaking, Folio shook his head. “Not really. I think he likes when I make a mess,” he admitted, voice soft and shy. He couldn’t quite meet Jolly’s gaze as he answered, face hot with something that wasn’t quite shame but close.

Jolly grasped Folio’s face and lifted his chin until they made eye contact. “You’ll look at me when you speak. Understood?” Jolly seemed to catch something in Folio’s gaze and spoke with a softer tone. “We’re still establishing rules, pup. I’m not punishing you for breaking a rule you didn’t know existed,” he assured Folio.

The entire concept of rules implied this wouldn’t be a one-time endeavor. The thought of being trained to be a good boy for Jolly made Folio’s cock throb softly, drew a faint whimper from his lips. He was always eager for Noah, of course, but the thought of being obedient for Jolly was a different kind of sweet on his tongue.

It felt more like sinking than burning. Folio stared up at Jolly with a wide, expectant gaze, throbbing in his sweats and wishing he could touch, that Jolly would touch. He was desperate, teetering on begging.

“When’s the last time Noah got you to himself?” Jolly asked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows. He seemed so composed, so regal and above Folio’s squirming, that it was almost embarrassing — Folio’s face heated and he swallowed, resisted the urge to duck his head.

Folio managed to maintain eye contact, though. “Two weeks ago, I think.” Twelve days, actually, but admitting that he was counting felt like too much.

Fingers carded through Folio’s hair and then twisted, tightened. Jolly used his grip — sharp enough to sting, to prick at Folio’s eyes — to tilt Folio’s head back, and he seemed amused when Folio continued to gaze into Jolly’s darkened eyes even as the angle changed. “I assume you’ve touched yourself in the meantime,” he mused.

Folio flushed and tried to nod, found he couldn’t; instead, he gasped, “Y-Yeah, I have.” Noah and Folio didn’t have rules, after all. There was nothing and no one saying he couldn’t get himself off, even if it was disappointing and never quite enough.

Jolly’s smirk was downright devious, faint as it was. “Have you fingered yourself?” The words felt almost crude leaving Jolly’s lips, inspired Folio’s fingertips to twitch with the urge to stroke himself to the sound of them.

“No,” Folio exhaled, lips remaining parted as if he couldn’t get enough air. He felt breathless, like he’d been running, like someone had a grip on his throat and only allowed him every other breath.

That answer seemed to delight Jolly; the set of his mouth didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened even further than before. “So no one’s been inside you all this time? Poor pup, no wonder you’re so desperate.” He hummed and leaned in close enough that Folio’s eyes slid shut in anticipation.

But a kiss never came. It made Folio whine, something high-pitched and embarrassing, but that failed to earn him what he craved. All Jolly did was chuckle, raise his free hand to settle it on Folio’s throat like some sort of tease Folio never knew could undo him, and then pull back a bit.

Jolly’s words were bemused. “Do you want something, pup? Use your words, then. You’re not collared, after all. Speak,” he ordered, like Folio was a pet who struggled to remember his learned tricks.

“I want—” No, that felt wrong. That felt like a demand. He wanted to be a good boy, and good boys used their manners. “Will you kiss me? Please?” he managed, voice barely steady enough to count as something other than a whimper.

Something about Jolly’s chuckle — deep and velvet-smooth, textured with a lust that Folio felt he didn’t deserve — had Folio melting. Without the hand on his throat, resting there loosely in a promise, he would have sank to his knees. “That’s a good boy,” he murmured, accent a little thicker than usual.

And then Jolly kissed him, and Folio’s lungs seemed to spasm. His entire body froze, and then he was suddenly alight with a need that left him trembling and clutching at Jolly’s bare sides. All that mattered was how Jolly’s lips tasted, the confident way the Swede kissed him. Jolly guided the movements, the pace, how deep the kisses were and how long they lingered, and all Folio could do was obediently comply with those wordless commands.

Once Folio had settled in his body a little, when the lust was tingling just beneath his skin but he now felt anchored and focused, Jolly pulled back. Folio blinked his eyes open to peer up at Jolly. He wondered if Jolly would let Folio suck his dick; maybe he’d find the sloppiness endearing, the mess attractive. Or maybe Jolly would be willing to train him.

“Focus, pup,” Jolly chastised, but there was a hint of amusement rumbling in the words. “What do you want?” He hummed. “I really shouldn’t let you choose since you misbehaved, but it’s not your fault that you’ve not been taught any better, is it?”

Being thought of as some poor, confused pet who didn’t know any better made Folio want to whine and rut, abandon his words to chase the pleasure. What did Folio want? It felt like an impossible question to answer, but there was also only one thing that would satisfy him, something he hadn’t gotten in far too long.

Folio wondered if he was supposed to ask it a certain way. He couldn’t find a single pretty word, head almost entirely empty. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, voice thready like he was fighting a whine.

Jolly smiled, and it might have been a patient expression if his gaze hadn’t been so sharp that Folio could feel it like pinpricks on his skin. “I’m glad you figured that out. I do expect manners from you, though. So, pup, ask me for what you want.”

There was no hesitation now. “Will you fuck me, Jolly? Please? I want you so badly,” he gasped, hips rocking against nothing. He wanted touched, wanted filled, wanted it so badly that he felt like he’d fall to pieces without some sort of relief.

Clearly, Folio’s words managed to strike a chord somewhere in Jolly. His gaze darkened, and the hand settled on Folio’s throat tightened again. “I think I will, pup. You were so polite asking me, and you clearly need someone to take care of you. You can’t do it yourself, after all,” he hummed.

Jolly’s hand slipped from Folio’s throat, earning a soft little whine for the departure, and cupped one cheek, thumb stroking against Folio’s cheekbone. “I think I want you on your back for me. I want to see your face, pretty little pup.” He tilted his head a little. “Do you cry easily, Nick?” he asked, as if that wasn’t a loaded question, as if the answer wasn’t painfully obvious.

Folio’s face flushed even as his dick twitched; he nodded and resisted the urge to drop his gaze. He tried to answer, wet his lips, tried again. The words came out small, shy: “It always feels too good. I just . . . I don’t mean to cry.”

Folio’s answer came in the vague shape of an apology, audible to his own ears. Jolly frowned and leaned in, brushed their lips without gracing Folio with a proper kiss. “You’re allowed to express your pleasure in whatever way feels natural. I certainly hope Noah hasn’t made you think you can’t,” he said, a hint of something to Jolly’s tone that Folio couldn’t place.

“No, no,” Folio said quickly, shaking his head as best he could with how close Jolly was. “Noah says it’s hot. He doesn’t— He doesn’t get upset. It’s just—” And here he faltered, momentarily. “—embarrassing,” he admitted, squirming and wishing he could hide his face.

Jolly’s expression softened. “Well, I agree with Noah.” His hand dropped again — but moved past Folio’s neck so his fingers could dance along the neckline of Folio’s tank top. “I want you to strip for me. Completely.” And then he took one, two, three steps back, crossing his arms and looking expectant.

Another squirm wiggled its way up Folio’s spine. He tried to ignore how his hands shook as he undressed, mumbling a swear when he fumbled his sweats. Eventually, though, it was all in a loose little pile on the floor, off to the side, and Folio had to resist the urge to cover himself and cower. He felt exposed, laid bare, expecting to be found wanting.

Jolly stepped closer, fingertips trailing down Folio’s chest, his stomach; he palmed at one of Folio’s hips, traced the line of his waist, dipped his hand lower to wrap long, dextrous fingers around Folio’s cock. Hard as he was, swollen and throbbing, he still fit neatly in Jolly’s grasp. All Jolly gave was a single, firm squeeze before holding Folio in a loose fist, not stroking or rubbing, just resting there.

“You’re adorable, pup. Just as handsome as I expected.” Jolly’s words were gentle, almost as if he anticipated a strong reaction to the praise. It certainly earned him a dark blush from Folio, a twitch of his cock against Jolly’s palm, a nervous little squirm.

Folio’s lower stomach kept twitching with a repressed urge to thrust into Jolly’s hand, and he felt like Jolly could see parts of himself that he didn’t even know existed. There was a language that Folio couldn’t recognize, let alone read, but Jolly seemed to find it in the set of his brow, the jut of Folio’s lower lip, how his fingers thrummed to a fast but steady beat at his sides.

It was hard, the handful of seconds Folio stood in silence after stammering a, “Thank you.” The quiet was brief but heavy, at least on his own shoulders, and he nervously cleared his throat twice. “Can I touch you?” Folio asked, voice shaking something reverential as he blinked at Jolly.

Jolly hummed and gave Folio one single stroke of his cock before nodding. He grinned faintly as Folio made a pathetic noise and shuddered, body starting to move in pursuit of that fleeting touch before he caught himself and straightened his posture. “You can even undress me, if you’d like.” A pause. “My clothes need folded.”

Not that there was much clothing to fold. Folio hoped Jolly had realistic expectations for the quality of the work, though his brain abandoned that concern the second his fingertips touched Jolly’s bare skin, still warm and flushed from the shower. He tried not to linger as he eased Jolly’s pants down his hips, crouched to help the older man step out of them.

Folding the pajama bottoms took so much of his focus that Folio only noticed after he’d sat them aside that Jolly hadn’t bothered to put on underwear — at which point he openly stared, breath catching in his throat.

It wasn’t like Folio hadn’t seen another man’s dick before. He’d fucked Noah plenty of times. Jolly was only slightly smaller than Noah, still plenty larger than Folio, but a bit thicker. He wondered what the stretch would feel like when Jolly was finally inside him.

“I keep waiting for you to try wagging your tail,” Jolly commented, fingers catching beneath Folio’s chin to tilt it up, make eye contact. “If you want your treat, pup, I need you on your back.” It wasn’t quite an order, but the tone made Folio stand taller.

Folio nodded eagerly and scrambled onto the bed, only thinking of how ridiculous he probably looked once he was laying on his back, head propped on the pillows. He spread his legs eagerly, cock twitching at how exposed he was. He leaked precum as Jolly’s fingertips trailed along the inside of his thighs, and resisted the urge to whine as they drifted softly.

Jolly’s touch disappeared when the older man went to grab lube, and Folio took the moment to close his eyes and breathe. The mattress dipped a little as Jolly climbed onto it, and Folio was certain he looked much more graceful than Folio had. His eyes blinked open to find Jolly watching him closely, settling between his legs.

There was another urge to hide, to cover himself up. Folio never went this slowly with Noah, so there wasn’t time for bashfulness to rear its head. Now, though, Jolly went about everything as if they had all the time they could possibly need, and it had Folio flushed and squirming.

Every little bit of movement ceased at the click of a bottle cap flicked open. Jolly laughed softly, but all Folio could do was blink up at him and lick his lips. “Please, Jolly,” Folio breathed, hoping the begging would help.

At least the whine to his words seemed to amuse Jolly. He chuckled and slicked his fingers slowly — and made much less of a mess than Noah or Folio usually did. “You can wait, pup. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a tickle of Jolly’s facial hair as he kissed Folio’s knee, and then Folio felt it: slippery, slightly cold fingers brushing against his hole. He keened and rocked his hips, stilling at the look it earned him. “Sorry,” Folio mumbled, feeling once more like some misbehaving pet.

Jolly hummed and eased a single finger inside Folio. He spoke as he pressed it further, bit by bit, and everything from the pace of his words to the speed of the movement was leisurely. “I know you haven’t been fucked in a while. Probably too long for a needy little pup like you, hm? I wonder if Noah’s enough to keep you satisfied on tour,” he mused.

Everything was already going fuzzy around the sharp heat of arousal coiling tighter in Folio’s stomach. The implication of Jolly’s words managed to land regardless, and Folio groaned. “He does his best,” he managed, clutching at his own knees to refrain from grabbing at Jolly.

“I’m sure he does. Noah always does his best with everything. I think you’re just too hungry for one person to keep up with.” Jolly’s finger settled, buried knuckles deep, and merely rested there as Jolly added, “We could ask Nick if he wants to help too,” as if it wasn’t at all significant.

Folio’s dick visibly jumped. “Fuck.” He whimpered, wondering if it was possible to get any harder — and Jolly wasn’t even fucking him yet. “Jolly, please,” he mumbled, nails digging into his own flushed flesh. He had no idea how to admit he was so embarrassingly close already.

Jolly pulled his finger back, gave a few more steady thrusts, withdrew it completely to circle Folio’s entrance with the tips of two digits. Then they were eased in incrementally, Jolly’s hand steady and angle just right to brush against Folio’s prostate when knuckles bumped against skin.

How was Folio supposed to keep it together like this? Was Jolly trying to wreck him? Mission accomplished. He made wordless little noises, whimpers and whines, and rocked his hips a little. He felt greedy asking for more, but he couldn’t imagine waiting a second longer. He wanted Jolly now, not teasing fingers that didn’t stretch him nearly enough.

“Do you want something? I told you that you need to use your words,” Jolly reminded Folio, leaning down to press a slow, intentional kiss to Folio’s jaw.

Use your words. Like Folio could remember his own name in that moment, let alone how to speak coherently. It seemed like Jolly refused to give him anything more than two fingers and gentle thrusts until he tried, though, so he scrunched his eyes shut to focus.

Folio hated how high-pitched his voice came out as he pieced together his plea. “Will you fuck me, Jolly, please? I n-need you. I need . . . need.” His mind was stuck on that word, unable to move past it. He needed in a way that made thoughts of anything else impossible.

The way Jolly’s chuckle rumbled, faint and brief, felt like a soft sort of mocking. It made sense, though: Folio sounded pathetic, and he probably looked it too. He was sweating and writhing, and he could feel the mess he was making of his stomach.

All that mattered was that Jolly finally gave Folio a third finger. It wasn’t what he needed, but it still stole a choked sob from his chest. He shuddered and almost missed Jolly’s words in the rush of blood in his ears. What he did hear took a moment to register, his brain fumbling the syllables as it tried to make sense of them.

“Needy pup is going to take what I give him, isn’t he?”

That sounded like denial, and Folio felt tears prick at his eyes. “Please, Jolly,” he begged, trying to fuck himself back on the three fingers meticulously working him open.

Folio knew he’d have to be empty before he got what he wanted, but he still keened when Jolly pulled his fingers out. He clenched around nothing, stomach muscles working, and opened his eyes to make sure Jolly wasn’t leaving.

Instead of walking away, Jolly was opening a condom, sliding it on, slicking his cock. “Shush, pup. You’re okay. I’m going to take care of you.” It felt like a promise and an admonishment, and Folio had no idea how to respond.

The only thing Folio did know how to do was throw his head back and moan as Jolly eased inside him. He was loud and unrestrained with the sound, and it was drawn out long enough that it began to waver — and then Jolly thrust in to the hilt and it cut off completely.

Part of Folio wanted to say something, anything, whether that be thank you or please or merely Jolly’s name. What came out was a babble, incoherent and wobbly, but it seemed to be enough.

Jolly set a slow, steady rhythm. Folio could feel every inch of him in the drag and push, drag and push. One hand clutched at Folio’s hip, the other bracing on the pillow next to Folio’s head. “See?” he murmured, voice barely registering in Folio’s fuzzy mind. “I’m taking care of you.”

Now that Folio was being given what he wanted, it felt like too much. He trembled and twitched, clutching at Jolly’s shoulders in search of an anchor. Part of him wanted to haul Jolly in by his hair for a kiss, but he was aware enough to suspect that’d be an overstep.

Instead, Folio’s tongue peeked out as he panted. He could feel the heat of his face, the way the flush creeped down his throat, and his back arched up a bit as Jolly adjusted his hips to bump against his prostate.

Folio wasn’t sure if he was close to cumming. He couldn’t imagine feeling better than this, but he was also aware of the way his gut seemed to coil and tighten. The euphoria had tears wetting his cheeks, those incoherent noises spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t open his eyes for fear of finding it too much.

Except Jolly’s hand left Folio’s hip to brush fingertips over his cheek. “Open your eyes, pup,” he ordered.

Despite his overwhelm, Folio blinked his eyes open. Jolly’s hair fell around them, wavy strands that made Folio feel like the world started and ended with those familiar features, and the expression on them was —

It was just sex. Jolly was helping Folio out, taking care of the drummer so he’d chill out. Sure, Jolly had suggested they’d do this again, but there hadn’t been any implications of feelings. Folio just had a hard time remembering that when Jolly was looking down at him with so much warmth and attention.

“Jolly,” Folio whined, chest flooding with something unexpected at the same time his cock throbbed and he came — unexpected, hot, profuse and messy. Jolly felt even bigger with how Folio clenched down around him, and he wondered how he’d survive being empty after this.

Jolly’s smile was just as devious as it was affectionate. He said something, but all Folio got from it was the shapes of his lips. Then Jolly was pulling out, and Folio tried to wrap his legs around Jolly’s waist to keep him there, protest on his lips.

A soft shushing and hands on Folio’s thighs, spreading them so Jolly could sit up. He peeled the condom off and stroked himself with a pace far quicker and sloppier than the one he’d fucked Folio at.

It only took a couple of moments and then Jolly groaned, eyes rolling back as he added to the mess on Folio’s stomach. He took a few deep breaths to come down, shifted his weight again.

Folio stared as he swiped his fingers through their mixed cum, and his breath caught as Jolly offered him the dripping digits. He didn’t hesitate, though: he parted his lips and accepted them, licked and sucked until Jolly’s fingers were clean.

Long, calloused digits were replaced by lips before Folio could make a sound. Jolly kissed him just as slowly and sweetly as before, but now Folio felt his stupid heart react in an entirely different manner. He squeezed both of Jolly’s shoulders and wiggled a little, half-aware of the tacky cum drying on his skin.

“Someone needs cleaned up, doesn’t he?” Jolly asked as he pulled back, amusement once more clear on his face. “That means I have to get up for a rag. I’m coming right back.” The promise was surprisingly sweet, soothing, and the only reason Folio didn’t protest when Jolly got up and disappeared.

It was only a handful of minutes before Jolly was back, but Folio had already started to doze. He stirred when he felt a cool rag on his stomach, writhing a bit and squinting at Jolly.

Jolly snorted and didn’t even pause. “Don’t give me that look. You need cleaned up.” Once Folio was presentable, Jolly disappeared again, and he came back with a bottle of water from the hotel fridge. “Sit up,” he ordered.

The simple sentences made it easier for Folio to keep up and comply. He leaned heavily against Jolly as he drank some of the water, humming and closing his eyes. “You said we’re doing this again?” he asked, despite any and all common sense, well aware he was now blinking up at Jolly with a soft, pleading gaze that often got him what he wanted.

There was no hesitation, just another chuckle. “Are you already thinking of next time, Nick?” Jolly smoothed Folio’s hair back from his forehead, smiled. “Yes. But not tonight. We play another show tomorrow night,” he reminded Folio.

At which point Folio flopped back on the bed and groaned.

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