Something For The Pain | By : AEMorgan Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Bon Jovi Views: 1564 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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: Something For The Pain
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: Richie Sambora/Jon Bon Jovi, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Yes, to list archives. All others please let me know so I can come preen.
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. Riticulan, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Richie Sambora and Jon Bon Jovi 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: When Jon pulls a muscle in his shoulder, Richie helps him take his mind off the pain.
Jon lay on his stomach on the bed; reaching back to rub his shoulder, wincing every time his fingers touched the skin. He’d pulled a muscle a few hours ago and it hurt like shit!
The bed dipped as Richie sat down next to him, massaging his shoulder. Jon gasped aloud when Richie placed an ice pack on his shoulder. Holding the pack in place, Jon sat up against the guitarist, his lower lip sticking out in a pout.
“How’s it feeling?” Richie asked, trying not to laugh at the doleful expression on Jon’s face.
“It hurts,” Jon sighed, relaxing as Richie wrapped his arms around him holding him tight. “And I feel so stupid,” he confessed reluctantly, laughing wryly at himself.
“Want some painkillers?” Richie asked, handing him the bottle. Jon nodded, opening it and swallowing two dry. At a glare from Richie, Jon drank some water, placing the glass back on the chest of drawers. He shifted position again, rolling his aching shoulder, wincing as another lance of pain shot through the muscle. “Let me,” Richie offered, moving slightly, his hands massaging the top of Jon’s shoulders, easing the tension, working the knots out and relaxing the mus.
.
Jon smiled, purring, his head falling back against Richie’s shoulder. “S’nice.”
Richie grinned, pulling Jon into another embrace, dipping his head to kiss him gently on the lips.
“And that’s even nicer,” Jon decided, turning around to face Richie, dropping the ice pack to the bed. His lips met Richie’s again as he shifted slightly, straddling his lovers thighs, wrapping his arms around his neck. Richie moaned against Jon’s mouth, cupping his face in his hands.
Heled led back, running his tongue across Jon’s lips. “Jon? What are you doin’, babe? Your shoulder…”
Jon smiled innocently at him. “Kissing you,” was his reply to Richie’s first question. “And yeah, my shoulder hurts,” he admitted, smile turning flirtatious. “But I thought you might be able to help me take my mind off it!”
“Take your mind off it, huh?” Jon didn’t reply, instead pushing Richie down on the bed, kissing him again. Richie’s lips were soft and pliant beneath Jon’s as his tongue slid past them, exploring his lover’s mouth. Richie moaned, his hips rocking against Jon.
Very gently, being careful not to jar Jon’s injured shoulder, Richie rolled them over so that he was sitting on top of Jon. “But because you’re hurt, you don’t get to play, just lie there and enjoy, ok? Is lying like that comfortable on your shoulder?” Jon raised an eyebrow, but nodded, still grinning. “Good.” Richie leaned forward, his groin against Jon’s s he kissed him again – a hard passionate kiss that left Jon panting and hard, thrusting up against Richie.
Grabbing the hem of Jon’s t-shirt, he pulled it up and over Jon’s head, dropping it to the floor. He ran his eyes approvingly over Jon’s hard chest, teasing him by licking his lips. His fingers trailed down Jon’s sides, the skin goose bumping under his touch, Jon squirming beneath him. Richie bent forward again, kissing and licking down Jon’s neck, sucking gently on his Adams’ apple.
Jon whimpered, good arm sliding up, fingers running along the hem of Richie’s top, before skimming along the warm skin of his stomach. Richie grinned, removing Jon’s hand and placing it back down on the bed. “Just lie back and enjoy it, baby.”
Jon sighed, forcing himself to lie back and relax, body tensing as Richie’s lips found one of his nipples, worrying it with his teeth. Richie rolled the other nipple between two fingers, pinching it lightly. Reaching to the side of him, Richie picked up the ice pack; rubbing it across Jon’s chest and down his stomach, warm kisses following in the wake of the cold ice.
With a gasp Jon arched his chest, fingers clenching in the sheets underneath him. “Richie, please, I can’t…”
Richie glanced down at him with a grin, his fingers working the fly on Jon’s jeans, pulling them down his legs. Jon raised his hips and his jeans joined his t-shirt on the floor. “No pants,” Richie commented. “I like no pants.” The ice pack skimmed along Jon’s hips, teasing the inside of his thighs, followed again by the heat of Richie’s lips. The sensations had Jon twisting on the bed, gasping between parted lips, his eyes closed.
His eyes shot open; a gurgled scream catching in his throat as the ice was trailed over his hard cock, the cold water dripping down to his balls.
“Do you like that, baby?” Richie teased, pushing Jon’s legs further apart, running the ice down from his cock to his ass, a few drops trickling inside. Jon squirmed beneath him, thrashing so much he almost dislodged Richie who chuckled, moving the ice back along Jon’s erection. “I think you do like that, Jon. Look how hard you are.” Richie ran his finger around the head of Jon’s erection, bringing his finger to his lips and licking off the ice water.
Dropping the ice pack to the floor on top of Jon’s clothes, Richie bent his head, tongue flickering out to circle the head of Jon’s cock. He pulled back; tongue running along the underside, before sucking him fully into his mouth.
Jon screamed, hands flying up to tangle in Richie’s hair, hips pumping up into the warm wetness. Richie choked, pulling back and gasping. He pinned Jon’s hips to the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he caught his breath.
His cheeks flushing red, Jon started to babble an apology but Richie cut him off with another kiss. “It’s not your fault, baby. Don’t worry about it.” Bending back down, Richie lathed Jon’s cock with his tongue, sending him into nonsensical babbling. Sensing when his lover was close to orgasm, Richie pulled away again, a wail of loss coming from Jon.
Moving off Jon to sit on the side of the bed, Richie quickly stripped, Jon’s eyes sliding open to watch him.
“Ready, baby?” Richie asked, pulling a tube of lube from his jeans. Straddling Jon’s thighs again, Richie coated Jon’s cock with the lotion. Jon hissed, thrusting up into Richie’s touch. He was so close; he just needed that little bit more.
Lifting hif upf up onto his haunches, Richie caught Jon’s eyes, slowly lowering himself down onto his cock. Both men cried out, Jon tensing, trying desperately not to thrust up until Richie was ready. Richie threw his head back, panting hard as he adjusted to the feeling of Jon’s cock inside of him.
Eyes closed and breathing hard, Richie lifted up slightly, pushing back down again, rocking his hips to get the angle right, Jon’s cock brushing over his prostate. He cried out Jon’s name, Jon thrusting his hips up to meet his downward strokes.
“Open your eyes, Richie,” Jon whispered, his hand curling around Richie’s erection, stroking in time with his thrusts.
“Oh fuck, Jon. I… I’m gonna c… come.” Richie screamed his orgasm, Jon’s hand milking him. He slumped forwards, head resting on Jon’s good shoulder, their fingers tangling together.
Moments later Richiet Jot Jon come inside him, Jon tensing underneath him, whispering his name.
Richie eased himself off Jon, lying down next to him, fingers trailing gently down his cheeks. “Did that work?”
Jon blinked. “Work?” he asked, confused.
Richie grinned. “Guess that’s a yes, then.” He pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table and cleaned his come off Jon’s chest, before it had chance to dry and become sticky. He wadded the tissues into a ball, throwing it across the room into the waste paper pin.
Reaching down the bed, Richie pulled the duvet up over them, wrapping his arms around Jon, who snuggled up against him.
“How’s your shoulder?” Richie rubbed the joint in question, nodding to himself. Jon’s shoulder was much more relaxed, which would make it heal much easier than the way Jon had been holding it tensed all night.
A contented ‘hmm’ was his only reply as Jon curled around him. “Love you,” Jon told him around a yawn. “Better than those pain meds. Knew you could take my mind off it,” Jon eyelids drooped, and he yawned again.
Richie smiled; the painkillers were kicking in. “Go to sleep, baby.”
But he already had.
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