Fic: HP: Feet (Deamus) Hard R
May. 3rd, 2007 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77Title: Feet
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Characters: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Foot fetish
Kinks chosen: Foot Massage
Word Count: ~1620
Summary: After a hard day at work, Dean comes home to a foot massage that turns into something else.
Author's notes: Many many thanks to my betawhy_me_why_not for the beta (she totally deserves kudos considering I changed the story on her at the last moment). I also blame fiona_fawkes for inspiring the foot fetish here. This is also partially inspired by this image and a conversation between friends. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
daily_deviant and posted here at the comm.
Seamus has always been stupid when it comes to Dean. It's a fault he's well aware of, thanks muchly, and it's one he's never really worked to fix. Doesn't need fixing, as far as he's concerned, because Dean wouldn't take advantage of it and, more importantly, wouldn't let anyone else take advantage of it either. It's part of the way they work, really.
So when Dean comes home from waiting tables all day, Seamus is sitting in his pants watching the telly and completely clueless about what's about to happen between them. His offer of "feet hurt? Want me to rub them?" was meant in all innocence. Hell, it'd been meant as a joke. He'd never had a foot thing before, hadn't even been aware that someone could have a foot thing.
But the weight of Dean's foot in his hands is the start of that downward spiral straight into blissful hell. Dean's feet have fascinated Seamus, in an innocent and fairly clueless way, for years. They're so different from Seamus's own stubs that pretend to be feet. Long toes – second one in on the left crooked from breaking it during a game of footie – coupled with the dark skin that's far too soft and plaint, and Seamus is lost in contemplation as he rubs into the arch.
Grabbing the bottle of lotion, Seamus drips some onto Dean's foot and the touch changes to oily smooth as he rubs up the foot and back down. On the next upward pass, he thrusts his fingers between those toes and then around to the bottom of the foot. Dean's feet are larger than he'd thought as he rubs the lotion into the tense flesh. He likes the look of Dean's feet, likes that they're so different.
When he compares their feet, he thinks that they're really perfect examples of their differences. Dean's are long and narrow, dainty in the arch and artistically shaped. Seamus's are short and blunt with freckles scattered across the barely discernable arch. They're a study in opposites, and Seamus rather likes it more than he really wants to contemplate at that moment.
The euphoric moan that answers his press and touch sends his gaze winging towards Dean. Dean, on the other hand, isn't looking anywhere but at his eyelids as he rests his head back onto the arm of the couch and moans when Seamus caresses a tension knot. His thumbs press into the top of Dean's arch, rubbing in small, soothing circles as tendon and ligament shift under his touch. Dean moans again when Seamus changes his grip so that the heel of that willing foot rests in the crook of his knee. He starts rubbing at the ankle and then, slowly but surely, continues up Dean's foot until he rubs along the crooked toe and Dean's big toe.
He's so focused on the tactile sensations of Dean's foot that he doesn't even realise he's hard until Dean purrs, actually purrs like a contented cat, lifts his other foot into Seamus's lap and brushes across his erection. He doesn't have anyway of hiding it as his pants are small and tight as it is. Dean's eyes fly open and Seamus can't really look away.
Flushing under the gaze even as he rubs into the Achilles tendon and then up the ankle, they stare at one another as Seamus continues his ministrations. The air thickens and Seamus finds it harder to breathe as Dean's toes curl into his leg and pinch lightly.
Seamus has always been stupid around Dean and that's his excuse as he lifts Dean's other foot and brushes his lips across the arch. The skin is so soft against his lips that he can't resist doing it again. Succumbing to temptation, Seamus sucks in Dean's toe. Dean shudders and when Seamus lets the toe fall from his mouth, the foot is ripped from his grasp. Dean's on top of him faster than he can think and it's Dean's lips against his instead of Dean's foot. The lips are gentle and not quite as soft as the skin on Dean's arch but that doesn't matter as there're hands touching his face.
He hadn't planned on this, never would've thought of Dean for this, but now that it's happening, it's more than he's ever felt before as hands push past his ears and cup the back of his head. It's his turn to purr as Dean licks his lips and then delves into his mouth. He's trapped between couch and Dean. He can't think of anywhere he'd rather be while Dean's hands roam across his body and he arches up into that touch and their cocks brush.
This time, they both moan and then hands go from gentle to urgent as Seamus rips at Dean's clothes – too many, too much, not enough flesh – and Dean's are pinching at Seamus's biceps, his forearms, his nipples. When Seamus finally frees the last button, he pushes the shirt down, trapping Dean's arms in the fabric prison. He rips his mouth from Dean's and bites down on the collarbone that was begging for attention. Dean's flesh is as soft on his collarbone as it had been on his foot and Seamus wants more of it, wants all of it that he can get.
"Shame, please, Christ," Dean pants as he arches into Seamus's touch.
"Bedroom?"
Dean doesn't answer. Instead, he fusses with his shirt, trying to get it off, and Seamus laughs at his struggles as Dean sits up and shakes his shoulders. Then the laughter disappears under the pressure on his cock as Dean's weight settles on top of him. The wiggling gets him even harder than he'd been before. He thrusts up against Dean's arse and Dean stops and stares. The stillness disappears as Dean falls off the couch and tugs Seamus along with him, and the teeth and lips and tongue are back as they wrestle with Dean's belt and Seamus's pants.
When they stand, Dean is far too tall and Seamus can't reach to kiss so he does the second best thing – continuing to nip at Dean's skin while his hands push Dean's trousers and pants down. They're both bare when Seamus grips Dean's cock in his hands. The skin is softer than either face or foot and Seamus runs his palm up and then down and back up, brushing his thumb over the tip.
Stumbling and almost landing back on the couch as Dean trips over his trousers, they start backing down the hallway when Dean's foot slips on the wood floors and they bounce off a table before coming to a rest against a wall.
"Bloody lotion," Dean curses, and Seamus grins before bending Dean's head down to a painful angle and kissing him quickly.
"This'll work as well, yeah?" He tempts and Dean answers with a mischievous grin before cupping his bottom, lifting him against the wall and slamming his groin into Seamus's. It's rough but not enough as Seamus thrusts forward. The height is just right as Seamus latches his teeth onto Dean's lower lip.
They're kissing again, more teeth and eagerness than tongue and finesse. Doesn't much matter, though, as the heat is building and Seamus likes being trapped here with his ankles wrapped around one another and locking him in place around Dean's waist. When Dean rocks and starts a rhythm that's almost enough, Seamus hits the wall. He's going to have a bruise tomorrow but considering the amount of pleasure he's getting right now as, finally, there's a hand grabbing his cock, it's completely worth it.
They haven't made it to a bedroom and there's not a possibility of it now, not with their fingers wrapped around their cocks and each other's hands. They're tugging and pulling and Seamus can't hold back anymore, coming with a cry as leans forward and latches onto Dean's collarbone hard enough that he might've broken skin. Dean bucks – onetwothree - more times and then he's coming too.
Touching forehead to forehead, they're panting and Seamus thinks, now comes the awkwardness, now comes the dissection of what just happened, and Seamus doesn't want it. He just wants to revel in the moment and absorb the feel of Dean's skin under his own though his back and legs are starting to hurt from clinging like a monkey to Dean.
"Shame? I, um," Dean starts to speak and Seamus leans forward and presses his lips against Dean's, effectively shutting him up.
"Bed?" He offers once more and Dean nods. Seamus slides down his body and his feet land on top of Dean's. Wiggling his toes against that flesh, he notices the difference between the foot he'd massaged and its soft slickness of the skin and the roughness of the other. "Never got to finish your other foot."
"Christ." It's a curse and a prayer all wrapped together and making him grin.
Dean grins as he walks them to the bedroom, keeping Seamus's feet on top of his own. Seamus likes the play of muscle and sinew under the balls of his feet and he can feel his cock stirring again.
But when they get to Dean's bedroom, he spells them clean before flipping back the blankets and sheets. They tumble into the bed together. It feels perfect when Dean curls around Seamus's back, entwining their feet together while the blanket floats through the air to cover them both.
Tomorrow's the time for awkward conversations and a dissemination of what happened and where they're going to go from here. For now, Seamus is content to have the weight of Dean's foot pressing his down into the bed while fingernails brush his chest as Dean shifts into a new position.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think
Author:
wook77Characters: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Foot fetish
Kinks chosen: Foot Massage
Word Count: ~1620
Summary: After a hard day at work, Dean comes home to a foot massage that turns into something else.
Author's notes: Many many thanks to my beta
why_me_why_not for the beta (she totally deserves kudos considering I changed the story on her at the last moment). I also blame fiona_fawkes for inspiring the foot fetish here. This is also partially inspired by this image and a conversation between friends. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own. Written for daily_deviant and posted here at the comm. Seamus has always been stupid when it comes to Dean. It's a fault he's well aware of, thanks muchly, and it's one he's never really worked to fix. Doesn't need fixing, as far as he's concerned, because Dean wouldn't take advantage of it and, more importantly, wouldn't let anyone else take advantage of it either. It's part of the way they work, really.
So when Dean comes home from waiting tables all day, Seamus is sitting in his pants watching the telly and completely clueless about what's about to happen between them. His offer of "feet hurt? Want me to rub them?" was meant in all innocence. Hell, it'd been meant as a joke. He'd never had a foot thing before, hadn't even been aware that someone could have a foot thing.
But the weight of Dean's foot in his hands is the start of that downward spiral straight into blissful hell. Dean's feet have fascinated Seamus, in an innocent and fairly clueless way, for years. They're so different from Seamus's own stubs that pretend to be feet. Long toes – second one in on the left crooked from breaking it during a game of footie – coupled with the dark skin that's far too soft and plaint, and Seamus is lost in contemplation as he rubs into the arch.
Grabbing the bottle of lotion, Seamus drips some onto Dean's foot and the touch changes to oily smooth as he rubs up the foot and back down. On the next upward pass, he thrusts his fingers between those toes and then around to the bottom of the foot. Dean's feet are larger than he'd thought as he rubs the lotion into the tense flesh. He likes the look of Dean's feet, likes that they're so different.
When he compares their feet, he thinks that they're really perfect examples of their differences. Dean's are long and narrow, dainty in the arch and artistically shaped. Seamus's are short and blunt with freckles scattered across the barely discernable arch. They're a study in opposites, and Seamus rather likes it more than he really wants to contemplate at that moment.
The euphoric moan that answers his press and touch sends his gaze winging towards Dean. Dean, on the other hand, isn't looking anywhere but at his eyelids as he rests his head back onto the arm of the couch and moans when Seamus caresses a tension knot. His thumbs press into the top of Dean's arch, rubbing in small, soothing circles as tendon and ligament shift under his touch. Dean moans again when Seamus changes his grip so that the heel of that willing foot rests in the crook of his knee. He starts rubbing at the ankle and then, slowly but surely, continues up Dean's foot until he rubs along the crooked toe and Dean's big toe.
He's so focused on the tactile sensations of Dean's foot that he doesn't even realise he's hard until Dean purrs, actually purrs like a contented cat, lifts his other foot into Seamus's lap and brushes across his erection. He doesn't have anyway of hiding it as his pants are small and tight as it is. Dean's eyes fly open and Seamus can't really look away.
Flushing under the gaze even as he rubs into the Achilles tendon and then up the ankle, they stare at one another as Seamus continues his ministrations. The air thickens and Seamus finds it harder to breathe as Dean's toes curl into his leg and pinch lightly.
Seamus has always been stupid around Dean and that's his excuse as he lifts Dean's other foot and brushes his lips across the arch. The skin is so soft against his lips that he can't resist doing it again. Succumbing to temptation, Seamus sucks in Dean's toe. Dean shudders and when Seamus lets the toe fall from his mouth, the foot is ripped from his grasp. Dean's on top of him faster than he can think and it's Dean's lips against his instead of Dean's foot. The lips are gentle and not quite as soft as the skin on Dean's arch but that doesn't matter as there're hands touching his face.
He hadn't planned on this, never would've thought of Dean for this, but now that it's happening, it's more than he's ever felt before as hands push past his ears and cup the back of his head. It's his turn to purr as Dean licks his lips and then delves into his mouth. He's trapped between couch and Dean. He can't think of anywhere he'd rather be while Dean's hands roam across his body and he arches up into that touch and their cocks brush.
This time, they both moan and then hands go from gentle to urgent as Seamus rips at Dean's clothes – too many, too much, not enough flesh – and Dean's are pinching at Seamus's biceps, his forearms, his nipples. When Seamus finally frees the last button, he pushes the shirt down, trapping Dean's arms in the fabric prison. He rips his mouth from Dean's and bites down on the collarbone that was begging for attention. Dean's flesh is as soft on his collarbone as it had been on his foot and Seamus wants more of it, wants all of it that he can get.
"Shame, please, Christ," Dean pants as he arches into Seamus's touch.
"Bedroom?"
Dean doesn't answer. Instead, he fusses with his shirt, trying to get it off, and Seamus laughs at his struggles as Dean sits up and shakes his shoulders. Then the laughter disappears under the pressure on his cock as Dean's weight settles on top of him. The wiggling gets him even harder than he'd been before. He thrusts up against Dean's arse and Dean stops and stares. The stillness disappears as Dean falls off the couch and tugs Seamus along with him, and the teeth and lips and tongue are back as they wrestle with Dean's belt and Seamus's pants.
When they stand, Dean is far too tall and Seamus can't reach to kiss so he does the second best thing – continuing to nip at Dean's skin while his hands push Dean's trousers and pants down. They're both bare when Seamus grips Dean's cock in his hands. The skin is softer than either face or foot and Seamus runs his palm up and then down and back up, brushing his thumb over the tip.
Stumbling and almost landing back on the couch as Dean trips over his trousers, they start backing down the hallway when Dean's foot slips on the wood floors and they bounce off a table before coming to a rest against a wall.
"Bloody lotion," Dean curses, and Seamus grins before bending Dean's head down to a painful angle and kissing him quickly.
"This'll work as well, yeah?" He tempts and Dean answers with a mischievous grin before cupping his bottom, lifting him against the wall and slamming his groin into Seamus's. It's rough but not enough as Seamus thrusts forward. The height is just right as Seamus latches his teeth onto Dean's lower lip.
They're kissing again, more teeth and eagerness than tongue and finesse. Doesn't much matter, though, as the heat is building and Seamus likes being trapped here with his ankles wrapped around one another and locking him in place around Dean's waist. When Dean rocks and starts a rhythm that's almost enough, Seamus hits the wall. He's going to have a bruise tomorrow but considering the amount of pleasure he's getting right now as, finally, there's a hand grabbing his cock, it's completely worth it.
They haven't made it to a bedroom and there's not a possibility of it now, not with their fingers wrapped around their cocks and each other's hands. They're tugging and pulling and Seamus can't hold back anymore, coming with a cry as leans forward and latches onto Dean's collarbone hard enough that he might've broken skin. Dean bucks – onetwothree - more times and then he's coming too.
Touching forehead to forehead, they're panting and Seamus thinks, now comes the awkwardness, now comes the dissection of what just happened, and Seamus doesn't want it. He just wants to revel in the moment and absorb the feel of Dean's skin under his own though his back and legs are starting to hurt from clinging like a monkey to Dean.
"Shame? I, um," Dean starts to speak and Seamus leans forward and presses his lips against Dean's, effectively shutting him up.
"Bed?" He offers once more and Dean nods. Seamus slides down his body and his feet land on top of Dean's. Wiggling his toes against that flesh, he notices the difference between the foot he'd massaged and its soft slickness of the skin and the roughness of the other. "Never got to finish your other foot."
"Christ." It's a curse and a prayer all wrapped together and making him grin.
Dean grins as he walks them to the bedroom, keeping Seamus's feet on top of his own. Seamus likes the play of muscle and sinew under the balls of his feet and he can feel his cock stirring again.
But when they get to Dean's bedroom, he spells them clean before flipping back the blankets and sheets. They tumble into the bed together. It feels perfect when Dean curls around Seamus's back, entwining their feet together while the blanket floats through the air to cover them both.
Tomorrow's the time for awkward conversations and a dissemination of what happened and where they're going to go from here. For now, Seamus is content to have the weight of Dean's foot pressing his down into the bed while fingernails brush his chest as Dean shifts into a new position.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 11:31 pm (UTC)Kidding babe. *loves*
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Date: 2007-05-04 10:11 pm (UTC)*woe* at forgetting you. I'll edit now :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 03:52 am (UTC)♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 10:12 pm (UTC)and blowjobs, dear lord let there be blowjobs
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 07:57 am (UTC)The massage is perfect and the sex is great! :D
Lovely
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Date: 2007-05-04 10:13 pm (UTC)And your icon. I'll just be over here drooling over it.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 09:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 10:14 pm (UTC)Oh wait, there was text attached? oops. *winks*
I'm really really glad you enjoyed it! I actually cut out a bit of the foot massage as it seemed repetitious. I definitely think there needs to be more foot kink!deamus out there.