It Demo loving hours again✊😔💘. Scout talks like he is the Fuc-king boss, but when he n demo are gonna fuck, he admits hes a total virgin who hadnt even kissed no one yet, n he feels self conscious af and nervous cuz he rlly rlly rlly wants to do it but he dont wanna mess up and make a fool of himself. But Demo is Demo and the fucc is👌👌Oh and he discovers he likes Demo biting n nibling his sensitive spots, such as neck, ears thighs, even his wrists are sensible, and he feels in paradise™💘🐑
(packing the entirety of Expiration Date into a crate and nailing it shut) coming right up my dude
(no warnings)
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“Never?”
“Never.”
“...As in never?”
“Fuckin’ never, Cyclops, jeez, how many times do I gotta say it?” Scout blustered, curling up a bit in his embarrassment, starting to pick at some loose stitch of the worn quilt he had as his blanket.
“I... I’m just surprised is all, lad,” Demo admitted, blinking, settling back as he processed the new information. “Thought... the way you tend to talk and all—“
“Fuckin’ duh, if any of the guys knew I was... not, y’know, experienced or whatever, they’d poke fun even more than they already do. I’d get eaten alive out there,” he mumbled, eyes falling.
Demo considered that. To be honest, he’d thought that Scout was probably exaggerating the number of people he tended to sleep with. That was what Scout did with so many other things—he talked a big game and tried to act more confident than he really was in a sort of “fake it ’til you make it” kind of way. That, combined with the way Scout immediately stumbled over his words when asked for any amount of detail, and the way he went red and flustered at the more raunchy jokes Demo and some of the rest of the team tended to make during the rowdier hours of the weekend, made Demo think maybe Scout was all lime, no tequila.
But Scout was also a fairly handsome young man in his prime. He figured at least someone would’ve fallen for that before him.
“Well…” Demo trailed hesitantly when the silence stretched a second too long and Scout started fidgeting. “…what all have you done?”
Scout’s face was going a bit red. He fiddled with his dog tags. “Dated some girls in high school, and, y’know, holding’ hands and bein’ cute and all, I… I’ve gotten little pecks on the cheek or whatever, but, but I barely count that as anything, y’know?”
Demo stared at him. “…Doll, you’re telling me you’d never kissed anyone before me?” he asked, shocked. He ran some mental math, scoured his memory. That meant that Scout had kissed someone four times in his entire life total, including a few moments previously. All chaste and quick and sweet.
Scout hid in his hat.
Demo considered that. “…Why? Why haven’t you?” he asked next.
“I just… I dunno, I, I put way too much stock in that kinda romantic bullshit and I just, I never had the balls to make the first move with anyone, and with kissin’ and—and anything else—I just…” Scout was red up to his ears. “…I wanted it to be special or whatever which is the girliest horseshit—“
Demo cut him off by taking and squeezing his hand, thinking hard on what to say. When he spoke, he worked hard to keep his tone gentle. “…So you want to do all that with me?” he asked, just for clarification.
Scout nodded.
Demo squeezed his hand again, laughing a little. “Well I’d be bloody honored,” he said, flicked the brim of the hat out of Scout’s face to get a look at him, to give him a reassuring smile. “Any idea what you’d…?”
“I… I dunno,” Scout murmured, visibly embarrassed by it, not quite able to hold eye contact. “I… what do people… usually do?”
“Well, you’d bloody, er, start with kissing usually, aye?” Demo suggested, pulling gently on Scout’s hand and guiding him forward, practically into his lap, and let Scout be the one to lean forward and close the distance.
He situated his back comfortably against the wall, and Scout did end up settling into his lap, relaxing slowly but surely over the course of long, unhurried minutes of kissing. Demo largely took control of things—partially because Scout was so nervous about making a fool of himself, he was sure. And he guided Scout through it as gently as he could, coaxed him into opening his mouth—minty, enough that Demo was sure he’d brushed his teeth just before Demo arrived, which was oddly flattering—and into letting Demo play with him. Nipping gently as his lip, making Scout’s breath hitch.
And when Scout had to pull back for air, starting to get overwhelmed, Demo shifted his focus, tilting his head to nip at Scout’s neck, light enough that it surely didn’t hurt in the slightest, just a new sensation that Scout had apparently never tried before. And his breath continued to hitch, and he started choking back little noises as Demo found a nice place further down his neck near his shoulder that would be covered by his uniform shirt and gave him a hickey.
Scout whimpered, and it felt so very incredibly good, the sound washing through him as satisfyingly as a cool breeze on a hot and humid day.
He tried to keep in mind that nobody had ever done these things with Scout before, and tried to show him all sorts of tricks he probably didn’t know. He showed Scout all sorts of sensitive places to kiss and nibble at—his neck, his earlobes, his wrists and the inside of his elbow—and drank in the noises he made, reveled in each reaction and tried to commit them to memory. His kisses were joined soon enough by touches, slipping his hands up beneath Scout’s shirt to meet bare skin, tracing slow lines against the very lean muscle of his lower back and stomach, one questing so far as to reach his chest to tweak at either nipple.
Scout jolted outright, gasped, moaned softly when he did it a second time, and lord, he was gorgeous.
And Tavish DeGroot had not been raised to keep quiet about exactly what he was thinking, so he said so, murmured against his cheek how gorgeous he was, how lovely he looked like this. And Scout practically trembled with it, clinging to Demo’s shoulders, eyes pressed shut tight and face bright red, flustered beyond bravado. And Demo couldn’t help but kiss him again, and again, and Scout kissed back, sloppy and unpracticed but earnest in every way, desperate, and it was as lovely as it was clumsy—more, even.
And when he pulled back he caught Scout by the chin before he could try and hide again, stroking down his hip to grip at his thigh like a promise. And he started to talk—oh, how he started to talk.
“Lovely, doll,” he murmured, eyes lingering on every detail of Scout’s face. “You’re a damn sight, ya ken. Lovely, lovely thing. Like getting pampered a bit, aye? Getting kissed at?”
Scout seemed torn between desperate and nervous, between leaning in and looking away, slightly overwhelmed but needy all the same. “Yeah,” he admitted anyways.
Demo shifted his hold on Scout’s thigh, thumb migrating nearly to his inseam, pressing gently and making a muscle in Scout’s thigh jump beneath his palm. “Ought to let me make a night of it, one of these days,” he mused, stroking at the underside of Scout’s chin and absorbing the way his lashes fluttered. “Just let me lie you out and kiss you all over. See how flustered I can get you before you beg for more. Won’t take much, I think. Haven’t even gotten your shirt off and you’re practically there.”
Scout’s expression shifted towards embarrassment, and he made an earnest attempt to look away, but Demo stopped him with a deep, long kiss, only pulled back when he’d coaxed out another little whimper.
“And that’s lovely too,” he said, hardly above a whisper, and Scout practically sobbed, leaning in towards him, grip tightening.
“Demo, please, fuck, how long are you gonna tease me?” he asked, distressed.
“You want me to touch you, doll?” he asked, direct and outright.
“Yes, fuck, yes, I want you to fucking touch me, c’mon—“ was as far as Scout could get before Demo had worked the button of his pants open and slipped a hand inside.
“Och,” Demo tutted, even as Scout’s hips jerked. “Look at you, you’re all atwitter.”
It really did surprise him a little how riled up Scout already was, but he reminded himself that he tended to have a considerable impact on people who weren’t virgins, and that it really wasn’t that surprising. And he realized within a moment’s thought that Scout surely wouldn’t last all that long, but that was alright—they’d have time to do more later.
And he was right—he didn’t even properly have time to get Scout’s pants down before his hips were jerking more insistently into Demo’s hand and he was yelping, spilling, throbbing under his palm and making sweet little whimpery noises as he returned to earth.
And then he was hiding, choking out apologies, because fuck, they barely did anything, he hadn’t even gotten to really touch Demo yet, and no time was wasted to start shushing him, showering him in assurances that it was alright, it was fine, he’d have plenty of time to learn, to build up endurance, all of that. They could take things slow. And hey, maybe they could talk more about it in the shower—Scout should really change his pants.
And they did talk in the shower, alongside other things. And Demo looked forward to making good on all his promises.