Coming Clean

BY : AEMorgan
Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Bon Jovi
Dragon prints: 1964
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Bon Jovi. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Coming Clean
Author: Adelaide Elizabeth Morgan (falconkenobi@aol.com)
Author Web Page: http://www.aemslash.co.uk Every Generation Has A Legend
Fandom: RPS – Bon Jovi
Categories: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora, PWP
Rating: NC17
Thanks to: You, for reading this. Paul, for being patient and understanding when I disappear into the computer room for days on end to write. Rushlight, as ever, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Summary: Jon. Richie. Shower. Sex

Jon sighed as the hot water cascaded down on him. Bracing himself against the wall, he let his head drop forward, as the water pounded down on the back of his neck and down his shoulders, the heat starting to ease the tension from his muscles. He squeezed his eyes closed, tilting his face up into the spray, fingers rinsing the shampoo out of his hair.

He was, he decided, getting too old for this shit. The whole night, after he came off stage, had been hectic. Hot and sweaty, he’d not even had chance to towel off before he was ushered into a car and whisked away to the hotel, where he’d then gotten… even more hot and sweaty with Richie. A wide grin split his face at the thought of Richie; he loved how being with Richie made him feel like a lovesick teenager again. Made him as horny as one as well, the first stirrings of arousal growing in the pit of his stomach.

Shaking his head, Jon slicked his hair back, reaching out for the soap, ignoring the gentle swelling of his cock. Now was not the time for thoughts of Richie and sex, now was the time for getting clean. He stank of sweat and come, his skin crawling at the thought.

He lathered the soap in his hands, sudded hands moving to wash his shoulders. He shivered at his touch; he was obviously more turned on than he’d realised. Soaping his chest, he groaned as his fingers ran over his hard nipples, his back arching into his hands. He washed the suds off with his fingertips, the water running in rivulets down his stomach.

Spreading his legs to accommodate his now very erect cock, Jon braced himself against the wall, as he caressed his torso, head falling back into the spray. Fingers pinching tight nipples, he bit down on his lips to stifle his cries of pleasure. His hand travelled further down his body, stroking the insides of his thighs.

A strong arm slid around his waist, batting away the hand that was creeping towards his cock, and Richie’s mouth was at Jon’s ear.

“Oh, no you don’t! That’s my toy to play with, not yours.”

“Richie?” Jon gasped, his voice rising to a question, as Richie sucked his earlobe.

“Of course it’s me,” the sucking turned to gentle nibbles as Richie spoke, “unless there’s someone else who would be joining you in the shower?” Richie’s free hand trailed lazily over Jon’s skin, sparking up electricity with each touch.

“N… No.” Jon shook his head. “But I thought you w…were asleep.”

“I was. But I woke up and you weren’t there.” Richie pouted. “So I came to find you. And here you are, naked and wet and hard and playing with yourself. And suddenly I’m not sleepy anymore.” Richie rolled his hips forward, his own erection brushing against the back of Jon’s thigh.

Jon moaned, rocking back against Richie, his head falling forward against his hands as Richie’s fingers curled around his cock, pumping him steadily. Richie’s mouth left Jon’s ear, kissing down his throat to suck on the juncture of neck and shoulder.

“Richie!” Jon almost wailed, locking his knees, his hips thrusting hard into Richie’s hands. “F... Fuck me, Richie, please. Need you.” He was begging; he knew he was but he was beyond caring.

With a growl, Richie looked up, squinting to stop the water getting in his eyes, searching the stall, gaze landing on the bottle of conditioner in the soap dish. Pulling away from Jon ever so slightly, he coated his erection with the conditioner, hissing at the feel of the cold gel on his hot flesh. He smeared two of his fingers with the lotion, sliding them slowly into Jon.

Jon pushed back against Richie, tilting his hips, adjusting the angle so Richie’s fingers brushed against his prostate. He cried Richie’s name, thrusting into his hand, the steady strokes on his cock not fast enough.

Richie gritted his teeth as he positioned the head of his cock against Jon’s entrance. “Ready?”

“Oh, fuck, Richie!” Jon panted, rocking hard against Richie. Richie swept Jon’s water-heavy hair away from his face, kissing his neck again.

“Hold still for me, Jon.” Richie spread Jon’s legs further apart with his legs, hands sliding down to hold his waist. Jon’s hands balled into fists, muscles tensing at the effort of standing still. “Relax, baby. Relax.” Richie swept the palm of his hand over the head of Jon’s cock, his mouth latching onto the pulse point of his throat, sucking hard.

Jon gasped, legs quivering, head tilting back against Richie’s chest, water raining down over his face. His eyes slid closed and he moaned as Richie slowly pushed past the sensitive ring of muscles in his ass, holding still to let him adjust to being filled.

Richie groaned as Jon’s muscles spasmed around him, milking his cock. He fought the urge to pull out and thrust all the way back in again, fucking Jon; he waited instead until Jon rocked insistently back against him. Richie wrapped his arm tightly around Jon’s waist, holding him close as he made love to him, his orgasm spiralling from his stomach, taking him over the edge at the same time as Jon came, spurting over his hand and up the shower wall.

Jon collapsed into Richie’s arms, chest heaving as the now cold water poured over them, cooling their fevered skin. Standing up straight, Jon turned and leant against the wet wall, pulling Richie over with him. Richie pressed his body against Jon’s as they kissed, hands playing over each other’s backs.

“Love you,” Jon mumbled against Richie’s mouth, starting to shiver as the cold water pounded down on them

Richie smiled, running his fingers down the sides of Jon’s face, reaching out to turn the water off. “You’re freezing, Jon.” Richie grabbed Jon’s hands and pulled him out of the shower, wrapping a towel around him, drying off his hair. Jon laughed, and wrapped another towel around Richie, kissing him as he did.

They ended up on the toilet seat, Jon straddling Richie’s lap, cupping his face as they kissed. Breaking the kiss, Jon lay against Richie, head resting on his shoulder.

“I need a shower,” he complained, lower lip sticking out in a pout.

“You just had one,” Richie pointed out, laughing.

“Yeah, but I’m all hot and sticky again.” Jon whined playfully.

“Definitely hot,” Richie agreed, tilting Jon’s chin up and kissing him. Jon laughed into Richie’s mouth, opening up under his lover’s lips. “But if it’s another shower you want, another shower we’ll have,” Richie decided.

“To get washed, Richie. To get washed.”

Richie raised one eyebrow. “To get washed,” he echoed, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t get dirty again first,” he decided, standing, throwing all the towels to the floor. He pulled Jon back into the shower, turning the water on again as he did, thanking God for the amazing hot water heaters hotels had. Richie pulled Jon close, kissing him passionately, as the hot water sprayed down on them.

~el fin~



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