Millions Are Dead: A GameGrumps Fanfiction

                                      (Slash, Crackfic, VERY NSFW)

       
            “Realtalk,” Jon whispered sensually into Arin’s ear, “you’re so sexy.”

“Jon, we can’t keep doing this, Arin whined with a blush as he struggled to focus on the game, his hands trembling on the PS3 controller. Jon wrapped his arms around Arin’s waist, pulling him into his lap and embracing him tightly, biting his ear gentle and seductively.

         “Put down the controller and play with me, Arin…”

Arin hesitantly paused the game, his PS3 controller clattering to the floor as Jon’s tongue seared his neck. He moaned softly, his face becoming a deep shade of crimson.

         “Why can’t we just play games, Jon? We sleep in the same bed, that should be enough for you!”

“But I want you, Arin…” Jon groaned out softly, wracking Arin’s body with chills as he pushed his lower body hard against Arin’s back.

     He could feel Arin shaking. “You’re hard again,” Arin whispered breathlessly.

“I know,” Jon said softly into his ear. “So are you,” he continued as his fingers came to rest on the bulge in Arin’s pants. Arin stifled a moan as Jon’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping his hand around his pulsating erection.

                   “Is that a Wiimote or are you just happy to see me, Arin?”

   “Don’t play games with me, Jon, just pleasure me. You started this, anyway.”

As quickly as the sentence had left his mouth, he regretted it. In the time it took to blink, Arin found himself pinned hard against the couch, Jon between his legs and pressing their erections together hard through his pants. Jon wrapped his arms around Arin’s neck, trailing kisses down his jaw line and biting his collarbone sensually.

                                        “J-Jon?” Arin squeaked out.

       “I love it when you’re demanding,” Jon whispered to him seductively.

      “Jon, stop!” Arin panted out, struggling to push Jon off of him and yet finding his efforts futile.

“You love it,” Jon whispered, his hands sliding up and swiftly removing Arin’s shirt. “You’re embarrassed, but you love it, Arin. I know you too well, and I know you well enough to know you don’t want me to stop.”

                                   “Do you mean that legitimately, Jon?”

                                  “Shut the hell up and let me fuck you.”

Arin stifled a moan as Jon’s hands came to rest over his chest, prying at his shirt forcefully until it was ripped clean from his body. Literally ripped. Into pieces. It was a bad habit of Jon’s. Tossing the torn message of clothing across the room, Jon began to take his shirt off as well, but found himself stopping abruptly and sporting a devilish smirk in Arin’s direction.

       “No, y’know what? It always goes like this. You strip me this time, Arin.”

Arin blushed brightly, Jon taking hold of his hands and guiding them to his stomach. “Jon, I…I-I can’t do that…”

“You’ve done it before,” Jon whispered softly as he leaned down, his tongue grazing Arin’s ear as he spoke. “Just do it again.”

Reluctantly, Arin swallowed his pride and slid the tips of his fingers underneath the bottom hem of Jon’s shirt, slowly working the irritating clothing that adorned Jon’s perfect body up and over his waistline, his stomach, his abdomen, finally pressing up and over his flawless collarbone. He could feel himself slowly losing his desire to resist Jon, throbbing harshly as he finally wrenched the shirt up and over Jon’s head, breathlessly tossing it aside.

“That’s better, but why are you breathing so hard and shaking like that? It’s just a shirt.” He wrapped his arms around Arin’s waist lovingly.

            “You know perfectly well why I’m breathing this hard, dumbass.”

Jon reached for the cap he’d placed beside Arin on the couch and pulled it snugly onto his head. Arin groaned in a mix of heavy arousal and sheer irritation. Jon always made love with his hat on. Always.

             “Fuck, at this rate we could just call Barry over for a three-way.”

        “Hell no, I want you all to myself. Oh, I thought I told you to strip me.”

                                        “I-I did already, right…?”

                 “You missed a spot,” Jon purred softly.

Arin was relatively confused, at least until Jon motioned to a specific, noticeable, still-clothed part of him. Without a moment’s hesitation, Arin assaulted the bulge in Jon’s pants as quickly as he could will himself, pulling the zipper down with such force that he nearly ripped it straight off. Without even pausing for breath, he reached into Jon’s underwear and gently took Jon’s pulsing erection into his hands.”

“H-Holy fucking shit,” he stuttered, his breath catching hard in the back of his throat at the sight of Jon’s penis. “I always forget how damn huge you are until…until we get to this point.”

“It’s been way too long since we’ve done this,” Jon whispered, fully drawing the item of Arin’s lust from his boxers. “Recording can wait. Now open your mouth already.”

Arin willingly obliged, eager and excited as Jon slowly slid his cock into Arin’s mouth, throbbing as he was fully enveloped by a very enthusiastic Arin. Arin gripped Jon’s hips firmly as Jon began to slowly thrust in and out of the hot confines of Arin’s mouth, holding his skull with one hand and tangling his fingers within Arin’s messy hair with the other. Arin loved every second of it, swirling his tongue around and over Jon’s cock and sucking him hard.

Jon sped up for obvious reasons, panting hard and forcing his penis to the depths of Arin’s throat with each thrust. “Arin…damnit, I always finish so fast with you…”

Arin closed his eyes, rubbing himself mercilessly through his clothes as Jon, with not much aside from a harsh groan and a forceful press against Arin’s mouth, pushed himself in to the hilt and unleashed waves of his thick and creamy semen into Arin’s desperately waiting mouth. Unbeknownst to Jon, Arin was silently doing much of the same: he could feel himself hitting his own climax, hot liquid soaking through his jeans as he pleasured Jon.

      “S-Swallow it,” Jon panted out breathlessly. 

Without resistance, Arin obliged eagerly, cringing as the ever-so-familiar taste of Jon’s sperm slid down his throat for the first time in several weeks. He looked up at Jon submissively, both of them blushing brightly as they locked eyes. 

         “You tell no one,” Jon whispered harshly as he pulled his pants back up.

Arin nodded. “Not a soul.”

                    “Not even Barry?”

      “Not even Barry.”

“Good,” Jon replied with a relieved smile as he adjusted his belt, kissing Arin gently on the cheek. “By the way, leave your shirt off. I tore mine to shreds and I’d rather not feel like I was in a minority.”

Arin leaned back on the couch and picked up his unwillingly-dropped PS3 controller. “Works for me. Hey, could you go get me a soda?” 

        “I want one anyway,” Jon shouted back as he started towards the kitchen.

          “Thanks, I-”

“By the way, Arin, you’re gonna wanna change your pants. They’re stained now and Barry’ll notice if you don’t.”

Arin paused and threw his controller down, blushing brightly. “How did you even see—”

Jon smirked at him. “I love you, plus we sleep in the same bed. I know these things.” And, leaving Arin on that note, he disappeared into the kitchen.