Did You Know That “Music” Is A Slang Term For Fornication?

Dan deals with stuff, with help from a certain DJ....


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Did You Know That “Music” Is A Slang Term For Fornication? by phoon

Yes the characters are from Nathan Barley. We weren’t sure whether to post this but… it is NF and JB characters so…. yeah.

The house was practically pulsating as Dan trudged into the living room. It was dark, light spilling in from the window, with yellow and red spotlights flashing circles around the room. Jones danced in the corner, pumping his fists in the air, and Dan vaguely heard an ‘alright Dan.’ yelled over the techno beats. Usually, the thumping bass would sooth him, the odd rhythmic vibrations that reverberated through him lulling him to sleep. The volume didn’t bother him. He was a heavy sleeper anyway.

But tonight… all he could see was the inside of that pub toilet. And himself, touching…

He shuddered, and flopped bonelessly onto the settee. Closing his eyes and pulling the ever-present blanket up over his head, he pressed himself as far down into the lumpy cushions as possible.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been under there. Not long enough, he thought, as the covers were pulled from his head and he found himself staring at Jones’ smiling face. The kazoo hanging on a string round Jones’ neck swung gently and hit Dan on the nose. He stared for a moment, Jones’ grin never shifting, and then turned and pressed his face against the cushion under his head, raising his arm to cover his face. He couldn’t face him. Not right now.

“Hey, Dan, you alright?” Slender fingers closed round his wrist and tugged his arm down.

“M’fine.” He tried to tug his arm back, but Jones was insistent, and kept on tugging and manoeuvring til Dan ended up lying on his back, hand pressed against the cushion next to his head. The grip around his wrist loosened eventually.

“Come on, mate. Tell me.”

Dan huffed to himself, staring up stubbornly at the ceiling. And that was enough for Jones apparently, because the next moment he was straddling Dan, wedging one knee in the small space between the settee back and Dan’s hip. He leant forward, bringing their faces close together.


“I… Had to do something. For the magazine.” Dan muttered, still staring at the ceiling, despite Jones’s hair inching into his line of vision.

“Something?” Jones tilted his head quizzically, and then grinned. “They didn’t make you lapdance for pensioners, did they? They made Ned do that. He was well livid!”


“Then what?”

Dan hesitated for a moment. “They… They made me wank off a builder.”

Jones didn’t reply. Dan eventually managed to tear his gaze from the ceiling and to Jones’ face, and winced at the look of shock there.

“You fucked a builder?”

“No! No. I… it was just… you know. I wanked him off. He didn’t touch me or… anything.” Jones was still silent, his eyes wide and mouth a shocked ‘o’. “He’s been following me round all day. I can’t get rid of him. He’s outside.”

A brief flash of anger in Jones’ eyes then he was climbing off Dan and marching over to the window. He opened the window and shoved his head outside.

“Fuck off! He’s taken, yeah!”

Dan rolled his eyes and resumed staring up at the ceiling.

“D’ya think I care?!” Jones was still screaming. With a final screamed expletive, he slammed the window shut and stalked back over to Dan, roughly climbing back on top of him.

“He said you came to him?!” Jones hands clenched into fists around the material of Dan’s collar.

“It was for the magazine!”

“For the magazine?” Jones leant closer, pulling Dan up with his collar. “How much?”

Dan gaped at him, shock making him grapple for words.

“Fifteen… Fifteen hundred. I needed it. For Claire.” Jones was silent, staring at him. “I owe her. The camera. And… And the laptop.”

The grip on his collar relaxed and Dan fell back against the cushion, averting his gaze as one of Jones hands slid up his neck.

“You’re worth more than fucking fifteen hundred.” He felt rather than heard the words as those slender fingers tightened in the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, and Jones mouth crashed against his.

He lay still, stunned, as Jones’ lips moved against his. Quick hard kisses against his closed mouth, until he parted his lips. And suddenly Jones was inside, his tongue forcing its way into Dan’s mouth, stroking and exploring. Jones kissed like his music, fast and hard and messy and rhythmic. Dan found himself responding, sucking gently on the invading tongue and gripping onto Jones’ waist, feeling those bony hips start to gently gyrate against him.

Eventually, time having lost all meaning the moment Jones moaned into his mouth, they pulled apart, gasping and panting for air. Jones moved first, leaning down to rest his forehead against Dan’s.

“Um.” Dan started, getting cut off as Jones’ started hurriedly unfastening his jeans. “Jones, wha…” This time, he was silenced with a kiss, and Jones’ tongue sliding over his own. He was distracted long enough for Jones to finish undoing his jeans and to slide one hand down inside Dan’s boxers.

“Gah.” Dan said, and Jones grinned down at him, wrapping his fingers around his cock, and tightened his grip. “Oh God.” His hips jerked up automatically, and Jones slowly moved down his body, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from the confines of Dan’s jeans. He wrenched the jeans and boxers down as far as he could, reaching mid thigh. Then pressed the palms of his hands on Dans thighs, holding him down, as he bobbed his head and licked at the base of his erection. He smiled at Dans groan, and let himself be pulled up for a searing kiss.

“Fuck, Jones.” Dan gritted his teeth to stop the moan as the material of Jones’ jeans brushed against his crotch.

“Yeah.” Dan watched impatiently as Jones fumbled with his own jeans, eventually leaning forward and tugging them down for him. Jones shot him an almost shy grin, as Dan took a moment to slowly stroke over bony hips. Down the crease of his thigh and then around his base of his cock, curling his fingers loosely and stroking slowly to the head. “Dan…”

“Fuck it.” He muttered, moving his hand back to Jones’ hip and yanked him down. Jones’ yelped, then moaned as their erections pressed together. “Oh…” Dan parted his legs, letting Jones settle between them, and pressed upwards, forcing a strangled moan from the younger man. Jones scrambled for purchase, forcing his hands down under Dan’s arms and gripped the cushions hard. He finally pushed up, balancing precariously over Dan on the settee, then started moving. His whole body rocked, sliding skin against skin, almost painful friction.

“Fuck. Dan…” Jones stammered, before leaning down and kissing Dan roughly, shoving his tongue into Dan’s mouth. Dan just groaned, sucking gently on Jones’ tongue. He tightened his grip on Jones’ hips, balancing and speeding his movements just a little. Jones moaned, tearing his mouth from Dan’s and threw his head back, his breath coming in short hard gasps.

Dan watched him, mesmerised for a moment, feeling himself tense and pleasure licking up his body.

“Fuck.” He groaned, tugging Jones closer and biting down hard on his shoulder as he tensed and arched up. Jones’ pressed him down onto the couch, hard and writhing against him, and Dan muffled his shout into Jones’ shoulder as white-hot pleasure took over. He was vaguely aware of Jones shuddering against him, then warmth pressing into him as he collapsed.

Dan stared at the ceiling, head back and listened to the sounds of harsh breathing and Jones’ softly murmured nothings. Jones lay on him, head on Dan’s shoulder and body slumped between his legs. He grimaced at the warm sticky feeling as Jones’ shifted a little.

“Ugh.” Jones’ said, breaking the silence and lifting his head to grin at Dan. “Shower, yeah?” With a sigh, Jones’ climbed off him, stretching as he stood. Dan watched, eyes drifting down to jeans still pushed down to his thighs, and the t-shirt clinging to his stomach. Jones glanced down, and laughed, before tugging his jeans down further and stepped out of them.

“Coming?” He grinned again and turned, dropping his jeans on the floor and wandering towards the bathroom.

“I…” Dan watched him go, then looked down at himself, exposed and sated and sticky… “Ugh.” He stood up, groaning softly at his aching muscles and then pulled his clothes off, before padding barefoot to the bathroom.

“Uh… Jones…” He muttered, reaching the bathroom and watching as Jones stepped into the walk in shower.

“Mmm?” Jones asked, switching the shower on. Dan fiddled nervously with a towel hanging on the radiator,

“What just happened?” He sat down on the toilet and waited for a reply. He waited almost five minutes before Jones’ head poked out,

“Aren’t you coming in? You’re all… sticky…” He grinned at Dan. That impossible to resist grin. Dan stood up slowly and walked into the shower, feeling the hot water run down his chest. Jones smiled again and grabbed a washcloth. He began to slowly wipe Dan’s belly, moving down to his cock.

“Jones…” Dan muttered again, “What just happened?” Jones didn’t look at him and continued to clean Dan.

“Music. Dan. That’s what just happened.” Dan had never heard Jones’ speak so quietly about anything before. He leant forward and tilted Jones’ head back, pushing him a little further into the shower so that he could watch the water run down his hair.

“Music?” Jones licked his lips and jutted his hips forward into Dan’s.

“Better than anything I’ve made…” It was Dan’s turn to grin now. He pushed Jones yet further back so that he was pressed up against the wall. He kissed him. Again and again.

Music. Fuck yeah.