Best Laid Plans

"Best Laid Plans"
by: falsechaos
email: falsechaos@mail.com
warnings: Duke/Tristan. Smut with too much dialog.
notes: 'Cause I wanted to and didn't want to bother with a plot. Yu-gi-oh! isn't mine. I just traumatize the boys and send them back.
disclaimer: This is a fan produced piece of fiction. Characters contained within are property of their original copywrite holders. These characters are used without permission, implied or direct, for entertainment purposes only. No financial compensation has been received for the creation of this story. Don't own, don't sue.

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"When," Tristan breathed, "did we decide that shoving your dick up my ass was part of the plan?"

"When we decided that we needed to be a bit more authentic in our acting," Duke replied with a grin and dip of his fingers.

"Ah! That was just touching, not-- God!"

Slender fingers slipped through a tight ring of muscle. "And I'm touching you now," Duke purred. Each movement was succinct and expert, a haiku of fingertips. He spread Tristan's knees a little further apart and settled himself neatly between them. He moved his fingers a bit.

Tristan could only squirm against the welcome intrusion. Something was coming in instead of out and his first impulse was to push against it. That actually helped a bit. Those fingers began to move in and out in a not so subtle promise. It wasn't unpleasant, just odd. Really, he couldn't see what the fuss was about,

"CHRIST!"

until Duke did something interesting with his fingers. A crook and a jab and Tristan nearly fell out of the bed.

"Oh? Did I find it?"

"Find what!" Tristan yelped.

Duke smirked. "Tristan, meet your prostrate."

"For the love of--" the brunet swore. "Just get it over with!"

"Not yet," the other promised. "I want to have some fun."

Duke shimmied and wriggled about until his nose bumped against the tip of Tristan's pride and joy. He flicked his tongue out and gave a happy murmur to the flesh he tasted. Tristan made some interesting noises. Those interesting noises increased sharply in volume when Duke finally used his mouth for something other than smirking.

Curses dropped from Tristan's mouth in a steady stream that would have made his mother blush. (And would have made the boy have a stroke had his mother actually been there.) "Where are you hiding the rest of that fucking tongue?" he gasped in an attempt at coherency. Duke's gleeful humming reply sent Tristan's back into an arch.So. So. Duke's fingers up his ass and humming like a madman between his legs. An excellent way to start the day. Until Duke decided stop, pulling away so fast the cold air stung Tristan's arousal. "Huh?" Tristan asked.

Duke did the shimmy thing again and suddenly he was straddling Tristan's hips with an elbow propped to either side of the brunet's head. "You might have a point," he stated, inches from Tristan's face.

"Huh?" he asked again.

"There's touching for the sake of keeping up appearances, and then there's touching for the sake of gratuitous fucking." Duke titled his head and grinned maliciously. "Which do you think this is?"

"Definitely gratuitous fucking," Tristan replied.

"Good. Now that we're clear, may I continue?"

"Why not?"

So Duke moved again until once again he was settled between Tristan's legs. He stroked some more of that cold lotion along his already slick shaft. "Ready?" he challenged.

"You're the one that keeps waiting," Tristan smirked.

He slid in (and in and in, Tristan thought) with a single, slow thrust. It was only when Duke could feel the weight of Tristan's balls above the base of his own erection that he stopped. He pulled back a bit. And waited. And waited. Duke's arms trembled with his forced patience.

"Move!" Tristan pleaded. He twisted and struggled desperately beneath Duke. "Please!"

"Fast and hard?" Duke panted, "Or slow and easy?"

"I don't care, just move!"

"Fine," he grinned and thrust hard into the boy under him. Oh yes. Hot and tight and wet. Tristan's hands clutched at Duke's shoulders and he clenched at the sudden invasion. Duke settled into a familiar, primitive rhythm.

Tristan didn't know whether to growl in frustration or dissolve into groans of pleasure. He never knew when Duke would arch his spine and brush against that unexpected spot within him, sending a shock of pleasure up of the base of Tristan's spine. So he rocked his own hips upward and tried to match the other's movements.

Duke's only warning was a soft gasp before he spilled himself into Tristan. He sagged against Tristan, draped loose-limbed about the other. He reached between them and with the barest brush of his fingers, coaxed Tristan into releasing his own liquid heat.

They were silent for a while. Tristan may have dozed off, he wasn't sure. He only cared that he was hot and sticky and utterly sated for the first time in... well, an embarrassingly long time. He looked down at the slender body sprawled over his own and wasn't surprised to find Duke looking at him.

Amusement flickered in green eyes. "I don't think our little plan is working properly."

Tristan snickered. "Maybe we had the wrong plan to start with." A grin crossed his face and he slung an arm around Duke's shoulder, tugging him closer. "If we really wanted Joey to stop bugging us about flirting with Serenity, we would have picked another girl, not each other."

Duke could only laugh.