An Effort to be Idle | By : DragonSapphire Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1817 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters, and make no profit from writing this story. |
An Effort to be Idle
By Jaden56
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South Park & Characters are property of Matt Stone & Trey Parker
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One-Shot
A/N: Some sleepy drabbles before bed. :) Set several years post-Spooning with Stan and Craig in an established relationship.
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Stan’s deep, wet licks inside his mouth shot straight through his dick as he was pushed back on their bed, Craig shoving his own legs apart and jerking his hips upwards with a low whine. Stan settled his NFL-primed body between Craig’s sprawled thighs, comfortably smug in his ability to flare up his lover’s arousal, despite the other’s earlier complaints of exhaustion.
Craig didn’t have much of a taste for fancy, meticulous sex with toys and flares and long, drawn out foreplay - preferring hard gritty fucking where they both were a little bit beaten up and bruised afterwards. Sometimes he and Stan didn't even manage to get their clothes off first, grinding through layers of frictionless denim and cotton until the heat and pressure and sheer depravity got them off.
Craig was a big fan of humping, though. It was messy without having to fucking excavate his asshole afterwards, painful and raw without lingering discomfort, and convenient just because he was occasionally too freaking lazy for actual fucking. Less effort was expended when he let Stan's heavy ass roll on top of him and rut between his legs, while Craig dozed indolently and came.
”You’re such a fucking bastard,” Stan panted laughingly against his ear, after, his face nuzzled contently against Craig’s neck as he pressed a kiss to the pale, freckled skin.
Craig lifted his hand and let it drop with a loud yet dismissive slap against Stan’s ass, tilting his head up and his eyelids down sleepily. “Better than fakin' a headache, huh?” he murmured, a tinge of a smirk coloring his kiss-swollen mouth, absolutely lethargic.
”Better not, bitch,” Stan snorted, causing Craig to grunt softly as he shifted his body weight, making himself comfortable and immobile right where he was on top of the much leaner man.
Despite Stan’s close to two hundred pounds of solid muscle pressing in on him, it was like Craig had been compressed so much like this, for so fucking long, he was like a goddamn diamond now, sturdy and unbreakable.
Not like he needed to breathe or anything either. Fucker.
Craig’s arms curled around Stan’s back and shoulders, spreading his hands over the familiar toned structure, and silently named the textbook muscle groups, joints, and tendons he'd memorized in college. Stan went butter-soft and smooth against him in anticipation of Craig’s practiced touch on his body, even though he wasn’t really doing anything at all.
They rocked against each other a little, their dicks soft and sloppy, but more for the comforting sensuality of the action - like sucking a thumb or picking at a scab, for people depraved in other ways. Warm stings of pleasure melted into sleepy excess, Stan’s mouth capping Craig’s increasingly frequent yawns with a littering of kisses soft as sighs themselves as they slowly ambled towards sleep.
Still, they resisted just to drag out a few seconds longer, even though they had a lifetime together.
~fin
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