Work Text:
"Move over, it's my turn," groans Jon, shoving at his boyfriend’s arm. Even the brief contact between the two of them makes him wince, their skin sticking together with sweat.
“God, how are we supposed to have sex if we’re both covered in what’s essentially crazy glue…” he grumbles.
“I'm sure we’ll find a way, Jon. Especially with you walking around dressed like that,” he gestures at Jon’s briefs, his only item of clothing. Jon widens his eyes playfully at the other man's audacity in response. He makes a point of surveying Tormund top to bottom, eyebrow raised.
However, knowing that the sooner he let this go the sooner he could cool off for a few seconds was enough to drown out the urge to bicker, so with the redhead out of the way, Jon leans forward and sticks the top half of his body in the freezer. It was so hot in their apartment they'd resorted to walking around almost completely naked.
Tormund huffs at his refusal to take the bait, playfully smacking Jon's ass on his way to the sea of fans they've put together in the living room. Forgoing their leather sofa, Jon hears him plop directly on the floor.
Jon extracts himself from the freezer, mentally bemoaning this month's electricity bill. Luckily they both made their money online, but still, leaving the door open in 20-minute stretches was probably a bad idea.
He makes his way to his boyfriend, lying down on the cool floor next to him. Stretching, he groans at the burn in his muscles. Feeling a gaze searing into him, he looks over and meets Tormund’s blue eyes.
He reaches and links their pinky fingers together, smiling softly. Tormund leans over, planting a chaste, sweet kiss on his cheek before pulling away.
It sends tingles all the way down Jon’s body, to the tips of his toes.
“I wish we could go to the beach,” Jon sighs, pouting. "I'm too hot."
It's true, too. He's sweaty enough to have filled a bathtub. Tormund squints, then nods. He's looking at Jon with a strange glint in his eyes.
"I can’t help hot you are babe, that's genetics, but how about I help you cool off?"
Immediately, Jon perks up. His skin may have been melting off, but he was always down for sex with his incredibly hot boyfriend. He raises himself up on an elbow, leaning forward. There’s still a good bit of distance between them, but Jon can already feel Tormund’s body heat.
"What did you have in mind?"
Tormund grins sharply at him, pushing himself up and standing quickly.
"Wait there," He leans down to pass a hand through Jon's hair on his way by, causing Jon to fight the urge to follow him like a cat. "I'll be right back."
Jon listens, staying sprawled out on the cool floor. He closes his eyes, listening to Tormund rummage around the kitchen. A thrill hums pleasantly beneath his skin, almost drowned out by the thick heat that seemed to weigh down the very air itself.
Tormund comes back, setting a bowl above Jon's head.
"Can you stay still for me?" The question ignites a different type of fire in Jon, and he swallows, nodding wordlessly. "Good." Tormund whispers. A shiver races up Jon's spine, and he tries his best to hide it. Tormund sees anyway of course, and he rewards Jon's eagerness with a kiss.
It's a bit awkward with them still trying to keep a comfortable distance, but after a moment Jon forgets about keeping cool, right around the same time Tormund licks his way into Jon's mouth. He opens his lips, arching as much as he can while still keeping his back to the floor.
Tormund makes him wait, of course. Trapping Jon's bottom lip in between his teeth he leans back, making Jon whimper. Tormund huffs a laugh and leans down further to properly connect their lips.
Jon can’t help but weave a hand into Tormund’s hair, thankful for the man's insistence to wear it down, even during these awful heatwaves.
One of Tormund’s hands presses on his chest, pinning him lightly to the floor.
"Ready?"
Jon swallows again.
"Yeah, I'm ready."
"Close your eyes."
Jon obeys, his eyes slipping shut as his breathing picks up a bit. He jumps slightly at Tormund's fingers on his jaw, his senses already on high alert. They tilt his face upwards, and Jon blinks open his eyes to find Tormund watching him.
"Relax, Jon. Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do," Jon smiles.
"Then breathe."
Having no argument against that, Jon closes his eyes again and breathes deep.
He can hear Tormund moving, but it still comes as a bit of a shock when his lips make contact with Jon's neck. His mouth opens in a silent sigh when Tormund bites where his neck meets his shoulder.
He senses Tormund moving his arm, hears a clinking from the bowl above his head.
"Stay still, Jon," Tormund whispers into his ear, the feeling of his warm breath making Jon shudder.
He nods.
"Oh!" He gasps, his eyes snapping open at the feeling of cold water on his chest.
Tormund splays his hand flat across Jon’s stomach, keeping him down. There’s an ice cube between Tormund’s fingers, another drop of cold ready to fall and hit his skin.
“Eyes closed, love,” Tormund reminds him gently.
“Sorry,” Jon responds softly.
“S’okay. I surprised you. Do you want a blindfold?”
‘Yes please,” Jon whispers, the idea turning him molten inside.
Tormund makes a noise that Jon could almost call a purr, moving away quickly.
“Wait there, I’ll be right back.” His footsteps disappear quickly, but he’s back just as fast.
“This work?” His eyes open, and he’s met with Tormund holding up one of his own work ties. He gapes slightly.
“Are you sure? I know how much those cost,” He says uncertainty.
“Oh, I’m sure. Once I have to go back to wearing those stupid monkey suits I’ll be able to wear this and remember what a pretty, desperate thing I have waiting for me at home.”
“Sap.”
Tormund snorts, whacking Jon’s thigh lightly. His eyes soften, and when he answers Tormund his voice is filled with emotion. “I think it’ll work just fine,”
Tormund takes a hold of his chin and kisses him, and it's so sweet Jon’s bones melt away into goo.
He slips the tie over Jon’s eyes, rendering him sightless.
“No need to worry about that anymore, hmm? Now you can just focus on how I'm making you feel.”
Jon shivers with anticipation, open and waiting, but still a bit nervous despite his best efforts.
“Here,” Says Tormund. “This might help you calm down some more.” It's the only warning Jon gets before his boyfriend drops a kiss just above his belly button. It’s chaste, and soft, and warm. His beard tickles Jon’s abs and he throbs in his briefs.
“I know it's harder when you can’t see me,” Tormund soothes, “So I’ll just keep touching you,” He squeezes Jon’s hip, “And kissing you,” He does just that, kissing Jon’s stomach as punctuation, in the spot right next to the hand that’s pinning him down. “Until you get all nice and relaxed, just for me.”
Oh, this man. He made Jon’s head spin.
He starts a trail up Jon’s body, the kisses getting hotter, and higher until his boyfriend's tongue is on his nipple. He sucks it into his mouth and Jon arches his chest. The suction, the hint of teeth, it all felt so good, and they had barely started. Tormund already had him so worked up. The hand not pinning him is unaccounted for, but he’s trying not to think about it.
Then, there’s what can only be an ice cube on his other nipple, and it’s so sudden and cold that Jon squeals, instinctively trying to shimmy away from the chill. Tormund applies more pressure to the hand on his stomach, and Jon realizes he is well and truly stuck. His breathing picks up and he whines when Tormund swirls the ice around his nipple, now rock hard and pebbled. He can’t close his mouth, the sensations too much to focus. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tormund lifts the melting ice from his chest at the same time he pulls his mouth away from Jon’s nipple.
“Feeling okay? You like it?”
“Yeah,” Jon says back breathless. ‘Yeah, I like it.”
“Good.” Jon can hear the smirk in Tormund's voice, and it makes him bite his lip. He loves it when Tormund takes charge like this.
He stops using his hand to pin Jon down, swooping down to close his mouth around the nipple he had just smothered in ice.
“Fuck,” Jon curses. He clenches his teeth and hisses, Tormund’s hot, hot tongue feeling life fucking fire against the frozen skin of his chest. “Oh, Tormund, fuck,”
“Mmm,” Tormund hums against his skin, “Don't you worry, we’ll get to that.”
“Oh,” is all Jon can say, as Tormund settles the ice back on his skin. He trails it down his stomach and runs it along the line of his boxers. Jon tenses, a loud gasp ripping from his mouth. The lower the ice got, the more intense the cold felt. Just when Jon thought Tormund would go even lower he draws it back upwards, moving over to Jon’s other nipple. With his eyes still shut tight, he has no knowledge of Tormund’s next move, all he can do is bite his lip.
With one cube of ice still circling his left Tormund rubs the other, still chilled nipple with his thumb. A moan falls from Jon’s mouth and Tormund kisses him to swallow it. He pinches and twists with his thumb and forefinger, each movement sending jolts down to Jon’s cock. He’s twitching in his boxers, and with the way Tormund is straddling him, Jon knows he can feel it.
He can imagine Tormund hovering above him, with that damn smirk on his face that makes Jon’s blood boil.
Suddenly there’s an ice cube on each nipple, and Jon thrashes. “Shit, oh shit, Tormund-”
“Thought you wanted to cool off,”
Jon whines, giving himself a sharp bite to his bottom lip. He did say that.
He shivers violently, his legs starting to tremble. The cold burned a little, but it felt good .
Tormund pauses his movements, the stillness of the ice somehow making it even more intense.
“Do you really want me to stop?”
“...no..” His voice is small, needy.
“That's what I thought. Now be a good boy and keep still.”
He doesn’t know how much ice Tormund had brought with him, but he figures at his point there couldn't be much left. It was still hot in their apartment, and right now cold things never stayed that way for long. Just as the thought crosses his mind, Tormund speaks up.
“Damn, I might have to fast track my plans a little,” He dips his head and drags his tongue over Jon’s treasure trail. “This ice is melting too fast.”
He’s rock hard in his shorts now, trying his best not to squirm. Pressing a thigh between Jon’s legs, he climbs back up to slip his tongue in Jon’s mouth. Tormund is hard in his boxers, too, Jon can tell. Unable to help himself, he rolls his hips desperately upwards. Tormund moans, the vibration driving Jon wild. He does his best to spread his legs, wanting to get Tormund as close to him as possible.
“Stay here,” He whispers in Jon’s ear, then he’s gone. If Jon strains his ears he can hear him moving around their bedroom, but he chooses to try and relax instead. He trusts Tormund, whatever that might mean for him. He knows the man won’t do anything he doesn't like.
Tormund returns, kneeling beside Jon and curling his fingers around Jon’s waistband.
“I'm going to take these off, okay?”
Jon’s wordless answer is to lift his hips. Tormund pulls his shorts down his legs, causing his erection to bounce against his stomach. Jon bites his lip at the shameless sound it makes when it slaps against his stomach.
“Someone is ready for me,” His voice is teasing, in that way, he knows Jon loves.
“Always am-” He cuts himself off with a moan when Tormund grabs his cock and strokes him a few times. Its half torture, having Tormund’s still cold fingers on his searing flesh.
“Spread your legs then,” Tormund answers, heat lacing his voice.
Jon spreads his knees, loudly gasping when Tormund presses a hot kiss to the crease of his thigh. He hears the click of the lube bottle and waits, trying not to tense up.
Tormund’s mouth appears on his ribcage, leaving a trail of bites down to his groin. Just as he bites into a chunk of skin over Jon’s hip, he circles a lubed finger of his hole. He lets go and moves slower, mouthing at the base of Jon’s cock. Overwhelmed, Jon hardly notices the gentle pressure of Tormund’s finger. When it breaches him, Jon curses, wrenching his eyes closed behind the blindfold.
Tormund soothes him with a soft, gentle kiss on his hip and a low rumble. He keeps pushing, getting one finger fully inside of Jon easily. He moves it in little circles, and it doesn’t take long before Jon is trying to thrust back, wanting more. Tormund finally starts to move slowly, in and out.
“More! Oh please, Tormund, more!”
“More huh? You want another?” A second finger starts to push in beside the first, but Tormund waits for confirmation.
“Yes, yes,” Jon pants, trying to spread his legs wider. He groans deeply when both fingers press into him a long, slow motion. Tormund scissors them, knowing that it makes him whimper.
Today is no exception, and it doesn't take long for Jon to start getting noisy.
“Hahhhhhh, fuck, please-”
“Please what, Jon?”
He knows Tormund is avoiding his prostate on purpose to tease him, but Jon isn’t sure how much more he can handle.
“Tormund, I need you.”
He pulls his fingers from Jon’s ass and kisses his neck.
“I’m right here baby. What is it?”
“Take me to the bedroom and fuck me, please,” Jon begs, trying to follow Tormund's voice to his mouth. He wants kisses.
“Mm, alright. I suppose I’ve made you wait long enough.” He sweeps Jon into a bridal carry, making his way to their bed. Once inside the room he gently sets Jon on the floor and removes his blindfold. Jon blinks up at him, his mind a bit hazy. Tormund is grinning at him in a way Jon had half a mind to call sharkish . When he starts walking in circles around Jon the imagery is only solidified in his head. He stops when he's at Jon’s back, settling his hands on Jon’s waist. He pulls Jon back into him, grinding his clothed erection on Jon’s bare ass.
“So, since you’ve been such a good boy, I’ll give you a choice on how I fuck this cute little ass of yours,”
“Okay,” Jon rasps.
“Now, either I can keep opening you up for a while longer and then pin you on your back, and fuck you until you forget how to talk or I can lean you on our nice big window over there that you love so much and fuck you from behind, and let me turn you into my mess. It's your choice.”
The choice is obvious to him.
“Tormund...make me your mess.”
Tormund growls, grabbing his wrists and forcing them behind his back. When all Jon does is moan, he walks them forwards, to the wall of their bedroom that looks down at the rest of the city with its view. Tormund places his hands on the windowsill.
“You keep those there,” he orders, then presses a hand to the middle of Jon’s back and pushes.
He gasps loudly as the side of his face and his chest are forced to the cold glass. The contrast of temperature from Tormund's hot, hot skin starts making his head spin. His fingers slip back inside Jon’s hole and curl, causing his knees to start shaking. He pumps them a few times, cooing at Jon’s whimpers.
“Doesn’t that feel good? Still nice and loose for me I see. Ready for my cock?” He takes his fingers out and lines up with the crack of Jon’s ass, sliding his cock over his hole teasingly.
“Yes please!” Jon babbles, lost in his need. “Oh, Tormund, please, fill me up,” he whines, thrusting his hips backwards.
Tormund chuckles at him, making arousal twist in Jon’s stomach. The other man could play him like a violin.
“I need it,” he whines, arching his back.
“Yeah, you do. Need my cock in you,”
Slowly, Tormund breaches him, Jon’s hands clenching so hard on the window frame he swears he hears the wood creak.
“Yes, give it to me,” He hisses breathlessly, “Fucking give it to me!”
“If you're so sure,” Tormund muses before slamming into him in one smooth motion.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck. Yes, oh, Tormund, yes, more please!”
Tormund grinds deeper, laughing when Jon moans loudly.
“God, you're so fucking needy for me Jon. I love you like this,” He ends his sentence with a sharp thrust. “I just love you.”
“Oh~I love you, too!”
Tormund stoops, kissing Jon’s left ear sweetly.
He sets a steady pace, and the sound of skin striking skin fills the air along with their ragged panting. Jon is half-embarrassed to find himself already close. If Tormund would just touch him-
“My good boy,” He reaches around and grabs hold of Jon’s cock, the first time it had been touched since Tormund started opening him up. “Are you ready to cum for me?”
Jon can’t speak, can't move, the only thing he can seem to do is breathe. Tormund works his hand up and down, making Jon’s legs shake. He really is close.
“Right there, oh I’m right there-”
“I know. Let go.”
Jon yells, painting Tormund's fist and his stomach and the window, tears springing to his eyes from the intensity of it.
Tormund growls roughly, repositioning his hands on Jon’s hips and slamming forward. Jon cries out, but he doesn’t want it to stop so he says nothing. Tormund doesn’t last long, only about 5 or 6 thrusts before he’s biting into Jon’s neck and moaning his name.
Warmth spreads through him, and for once he doesn’t mind the heat. Tormund pulls him off the window, stumbling towards their bed. They flop together gracelessly, just laying in silence for several minutes. When Jon does finally have the strength in his muscles to move again, there's an audible sound when he peels himself away from his boyfriend.
“Oh,” he groans, disgusted, “That's gross.”
“My cum is leaking out of you, literally as we speak.”
“Shut up and come here. We need a shower.”
Tormund chuckles good-naturedly, before rolling away and standing.
“I suppose we do. Can you walk?”
“I can. But I want you to carry me.”
“I'm not carrying you,” says Tormund, already leaning down to gather him in his arms.
Jon grins cheekily at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his neck. He still hates being in lockdown, but he supposes in exchange for such lavish treatment, he could learn to deal with it.