@sonofawiitchh M/M Smut Gif Starters: Part 3 - The Electric Bootyloo [ 12D ] bottom Vincent from John Kent
An entire squad left the station when the alarm blared, but not Vincent's. His squad had the privilege of staying behind, and yet the alarm had dragged him out of sleep all the same; or what passed for sleep. Insomnia was never good company, but it was particularly insidious when it clawed at you during the few hours you were actually allotted to rest.
Vincent tossed and turned for the better part of half an hour before giving up entirely. He lay there staring at the ceiling, his body exhausted but his mind refusing to quiet. If he was going to stand any chance of falling asleep, he needed to burn something off first. Spending energy had worked before, or at least, he told himself it had. He decided to gamble on it one more time.
He found the station's gym swathed in the kind of silence that only existed at that hour. Empty, save for another poor soul hunched over one of the machines. John. The rookie. His greeting was nothing more than a faint, hollow smile and a slow nod. Barely an acknowledgment that either of them existed at all.
He'd lost sight of the moment they started spotting each other. They danced around each other almost in silence, taking turns on who laid their back on the bench and who stood behind making sure the weights didn't kill anyone. What he hadn't missed was the instant he started letting his eyes linger on John's bulge.
Vincent looked at it intently, mostly when it was his turn to lay on the bench and could get a perfect glimpse of it. So close, he could almost taste it. So close, he could smell the strong scent of salty masculinity coming off the lower openings of John's shorts. When he closed his eyes, Vincent could almost picture the rookie's cock. It's bulbous head, covered in translucent, glistening precum. He pictured a single vein, slithering along the underside, pulsating with John's heartbeat, and guiding Vincent closer to the base, to the puddle of sweat and musk.
And John had had similar thoughts, for it didn't take too long before their silent communication turned to flirting. Flirting to provocation. Provocation to action.
Kneeling between John's legs, Vincent pressed himself against the padded floor of the gym, and made himself comfortable between John's thighs. The rookie's cock was just as he imagined it, shinning under the lights. It sprung up happy to meet him, and Vincent was quick to return the greeting by gently wrapping his lips around the head.
He hummed around it. The taste of it salty, thick, mixed so perfectly with the strong, acrid scent of John's groin. With every inhalation, Vincent took in more and more of him. John's cock filled his velvety mouth, the wet crevice opening itself to allow the thick intrusion deeper. John's sweat saturated Vincent's lungs, rapidly hypnotizing him further.
"Fuck, kid." Vincent looked up, a thick string of saliva mixed with pre-cum still bridging John's cock to his plumped lips. "You got a great cock."