Fic: Lipstick

[canucksgrl.livejournal.com]

First post in this community, but definitely not my last

Word Count: 483

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Pairing: Jose Theodore/ Sheldon Souray

AN: I'm probably going over it some other time. Feedback appreciated.



He loves lipstick.

He'd kiss Stephanie hard, brushing his lips over hers, licking them, biting them. It's hot and sticky and and messy. Jose can't get enough of it.

When he took up with Sheldon, he got his teammate to wear lipstick too. "This is so fucked up," Shel complains.

"You look fucking sexy." Jose explores the other's mouth thoroughly, then sucks on smooth hard pecs. It leaves a bright red mark. He trails his lips up, up, up, smearing that flawless flesh. He reaches Shel's face again and unscrews sparkly cottoncandy lipgloss with a sweaty hand. Jose's fingers shake a little and he gets some of the liquid on Shel's face. Fastening around it, he twirls the spot with his tongue.

Shel reaches for the tube and dabs it inexpertly on himself. It tastes like melted ice cream, but goopier. He looks down at Jose's hungry eyes and pries the black cylinder of fire-engine red lipstick from his lover's slack fingers. It mingles with the gloss to form a sweetsmelling slime.

Lips burn beneath lustrous crimson. It heats Jose's lips up, too. He grabs Shel's ass and squeezes, while Shel's big hands come up to play with his hair. When they come up for air, their faces are hot and scarlet as lipstick. Moisture beads on their skin, trickles in pinkened drips.

"Fuck me," gasps Shel. Jose eases a chocolate-flavoured condom on his cock and lubes it up with the gloss.

The couch is blue and velvety and splattered with cum stains. And why not? The only reason they got this apartment was so they could sneak out to have sex. And when you're fucking Jose Theodore, you can be sure the furniture is mildly aesthetically pleasing and easy on the ass.

Bent over the aforementioned couch, Shel hisses as Jose slides into him. He throws his head back as Jose pounds him, crying, and Jose yanks his hair until Shel's looking up at him so they can share a kiss slippery with make up. "Harder," growls Shel. "You're a fucking hockey player. Hammer me until I scream."

The rhythm of meat smacking against meat accelerates. Panting, Jose rubs Shel's nipples, tight and greasy from his osculates. "Fuuuuuck," moans Shel as he comes, mottling the couch some more. He turns around to clamp down on Jose's shoulder until it turns slickly maroon. When Jose sweeps it with his mouth, he tastes vanilla and Sheldon.

"Come on, baby," Shel vibrates low in his throat, and Jose breathing deepens as he comes.

"That was hot," Jose snuggles against Shel on the thick beige carpet. He reaches around blindly.

Something soft and squishy is pushed into his hands. When he opens his eyes, the lipgloss is in his hands and Shel's propped on one elbow, bringing his tatoos right by Jose's face. "My turn," whispers Shel as he carefully paints Jose's full lips cherry red.