knows better (the used, jepha/dan)
Title: Knows Better.
Author: Jess.
Rating: R – NC-17ish.
Pairing(s)/character(s): Jepha/Dan.
Warning: Spanking and fluff.
Notes: For sinsense. Because. This took me a ridiculously long time to finish considering it kind of disintegrates into stupid comment fic style rambling at the end there, heh. Also, unbetaed, so I'm sorry if there’s any hideous mistakes.

---

So Jepha knows better than to go out and smoke with Bert when he's already buzzed on a few beers. It's the middle of the night. They have to be back in the studio tomorrow. He should go to bed, he knows he should.

"I'm gonna suck every inch of this fat motherfucker without you, Jephareeee," Bert yells and slams the sliding door on his way out, making the glass shudder.

Jepha knows better, but he does it anyway (it's a pattern in his life, which he has often noticed and regularly ignored).

Jepha scrubs a hand through his messy hair. Quinn and Dan choke on jokes about sucking their fat ones and their own laughter, but their voices are muffled as Jepha slides the door shut behind him. He turns around and cheerfully mouths SORRY CAN'T HEAR YOU while giving them the finger.

It’s too cold to get comfortable on the garden furniture, so they just lean against the wall. Bert lists towards Jepha and grins, breathing smoke out between his teeth. It's cold enough they both breathe out visibly, no matter who’s got hold of the joint.

Jepha licks his lips and Bert giggles at nothing, or something, or some Bert thing, high pitched in his ear. Jepha smiles and runs his tongue over his teeth. His mouth's dry. He can feel every inch of his own skin, every seam of his jeans, every stitch of his soft cotton shirt over his chest.

He hands the joint to Bert, who frowns in concentrations as he pulls every last bit off the roach.

Jepha rubs his hands down his thighs, enjoys the friction too much, decides he should really go inside and go to bed. And probably jerk off. He feels like a cat in heat, wants to rub on everything until something rubs back. He shifts and stamps his feet at the cold, and in inseam of his jeans rubs on his balls just a little, just enough he breathes out a bit stuttery, a bit weird. Okay, go inside, got to bed and definitely jerk off.

He detours into the kitchen for a glass of water, smacking his dry lips together and trying to avoid rubbing his dick through his pants, and bumps right into Dan.

Dan grabs him around the waist before Jepha's face can make itself intimate with the floor, and Jepha goes limp, laughing and practically folding in half over Dan's arm.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dan says, "are you stoned Jepha Howard?" In a prim, ladylike tone. Like he's completely scandalised by that, like he's not himself, like the giant dork he is, like he's about to call Jepha a naughty little boy and rap his knuckles with a ruler.

Jepha laughs. "Maaaaaaaaybe," he straightens himself and finds his own two shaky feet. Plants a hand on Dan's chest to keep himself steady.

"I am shocked and appalled," Dan says, wide, wide eyes.

"I am stoned and... a... balled," Jepha replies and then closes his eyes and laughs at how fucking stupidly stoned he is.

"Go to bed, Jepharee," Dan says, definitely laughing at him and not with him. Even though he's laughing at himself. So maybe both at and with him.

The point is, Dan's a jerk and Jepha was actually in here for a reason, even though he forgets what that was.

"But I'm," horny, Jepha's brain supplies, stoned, "um."

"Stoned?" Dan says.

"I already thought that, but that's not it."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"I'm pretty sure shut up."

"I'm pretty sure your mom."

"I'm pretty sure eat me."

"I'm pretty sure, once more, your mom."

Jepha pokes his tongue out.

"How old are you?" Dan asks, though his tone is kind of ruined by how he's got on finger up his nose and one pulling on his eye and sounds kind of like a nasally Kermit the Frog.

"Not too old for a good spanking," Jepha says, spins out of Dan's arms (realises, then, he was standing with his face, chest, everything, half an inch away from Dan) and waits for his head to catch up the fact he's stopped moving, with his hands firmly planted on the kitchen bench.

"Re-he-heaaaaally?" Dan says.

Jepha grins at the wall and thinks really, truly, yes please, and says, "maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe."

Dan's hand connects with Jepha ass, stinging even through denim. Right. Jepha had come to the kitchen because he was horny.

"Definite-leeeeeeee," Dan breathes out against his ear, leaning over Jepha's back, their thighs touching, Dan's arm brushes his, his fingers slide against Jepha's where they're flat against the bench top. Dan's crotch bumps briefly against Jepha's ass, not enough, not enough for Jepha to tell if Dan’s hard, but enough that Jepha’s more than halfway there now.

It's a second, it's one little second where Jepha can't breathe and Dan stops laughing and stops moving and stays there just that one little second, that little bit too long for him to be joking.

Jepha spins around and faces Dan.

Dan's arms are bracketing him on either side. He doesn't move back. Jepha can't move back, he’s bent over benchtop a little already, the wood pressing a firm line into his lower back.

Oh, Jepha thinks, looking at Dan's sleepy eyes, I really needed a drink of water. Kind of wants to laugh at himself for that, but surprises himself by not saying anything. He turns back around in the circle of Dan's arms silently, facing the kitchen wall again. He breathes deeply and wonders if Dan will get it. Wants Dan to get it, get that he's not joking now, thinks that maybe Dan does. His head is still hazy. Dan’s hands slide away from his, off the bench.

"Seriously?" Dan says, standing up behind him. His fingers creep around Jepha’s hip and tap-tap-tap against the clasp of Jepha's belt.

"Yeah," Jepha breathes.

The clink of Jepha's belt coming undone is strangely loud in the still air of the kitchen, the brush of Jepha's underwear and jeans over his thighs is even audible, just barely, over the sound of Jepha's breathing. He turns his head and bites the inside of his arm sharply to keep himself from making any stupid noises before Dan's even done anything.

Dan slides his hands over Jepha's ass briefly, rough drumstick calluses and long fingers stroking over him. Jepha's skin tingles when Dan stops touching him.

The first slap comes without warning, and Jepha jerks towards the counter more out of shock than from the sting, the tingling, the mild throb that pulses over his skin, up his spine and through his dick.

"Seriously?" Dan asks again and all Jepha can do is drops his head and groan, push his ass back at Dan, easy, because he is for this.

Dan's hand comes down again without comment. Jepha doesn't flinch this time, or the next, except when he's physically rocked on his feet a little.

Hands flat on the counter, back arched, ass in the air. Jepha doesn't even count off the blows and Dan just deals them out steadily, stinging, hot, like that "seriously" was a question of intensity and not consent. Jepha has no idea when he'll stop. Doesn't ask. Dan's hands are perfect for this, broad and hard, callused and fucking made for hitting things. Jepha hisses through his teeth and Dan's palm smacks across the exact same spot twice, his hips jerk forward into nothing, he's even too far away to rub himself off against the hard bench. Dan's not touching him at all except for where his hands are connecting with Jepha’s skin, the rhythm he’s beating out against it. Jepha's mind is a montage of thick marching sticks snapping on skins and rims, of how red his ass must be, of yeses and pleases and how bad he wants one of those rough hands on his dick, how that would feel.

At some point Jepha's arms start to shake, he can't afford to move them off the bench but he also can't keep a hand off his dick, finally shifts unsteadily and wraps a hand around himself, jerks himself off, very very suddenly he's thisclose, right on the edge, and--

Dan's hand closes around Jepha’s forearm, pulling inexorably back, folds Jepha arm up behind him, holds it there firmly. Dan's stopped hitting him. Jepha doesn't dare move his other arm off the bench, too unbalanced, shaky, he groans because he just wants to get off now, he was there, and Dan has stopped. Hitting. Him.

Jepha's arm buckles and he lets himself slump forward, ready to just slide to the floor. Dan lets go of Jepha's arm as Jepha relaxes, and wraps his arms around Jepha's waist, pulling him up and back against Dan's chest. Jepha stumbles back a step with his pants cuffed around his ankles, his ass bumping into Dan's crotch. He hisses at the scratch of denim against his hot skin, his dick twitches and he pushes back against Dan, testing. Dan's hips push forward against him and Jepha thinks yes, but Dan doesn't move again.

"Hey," Dan says.

Jepha nods his head, like that was a question, like that's an answer, and pushes his ass back against Dan again. It hurts. He lets his head smack back against Dan's chest as he soaks in the sting on hot skin grating against denim-- Dan's hard. He tightens his grip on Jepha, curls his fingers over Jepha’s hips and pulls him back into him, Jepha's hips fitting against Dan’s. Dan's fingers slide forward, scratching the skin above Jepha’s dick, but not quite touching, as he pushes, hard, against Jepha's ass. Not at all nicely or softly, grinds into him, denim scraping on Jepha's raw skin, and Jepha has got to have a hand back on himself, head spinning. He whimpers as Dan grinds against him again, whines and generally doesn't care how much he's embarrassing himself for this, not when Dan's breathing against his ear changes, harsher with each push. Jepha wraps his hand around his dick again. And Dan stops moving. Again. Dan pulls back from him a little and takes a deep breath against Jepha's ear, collecting himself.

"Hey," Dan tries again. "wanna get yourself off?"

Jepha turns around in Dan's arms, to make sure Dan knows how serious he is when he says, "yeah."

Dan smiles. "Want me to keep hitting you?"

Jepha's ass hurts. Really hurts. His knees are shaky, joints weak with adrenaline. "Yeah," he says.

"Pick one," Dan waggles his eyebrows at Jepha.

Jepha groans and when he doesn’t answer quick enough, Dan makes the choice for him, slides his hands down Jepha's back, calluses and short nails scratching over the angry skin on Jepha's ass, and hauls Jepha up. Jepha's arms automatically go around Dan's neck and his pants jingle off one ankle ridiculously and his dick is pressed up against the soft cotton of Dan's shirt.

"There's always what's behind door number three," Dan says, and turns them around, Jepha's back to the hallway his room is off.

Jepha kicks his foot until his pants hit the kitchen tiles with a thud and a clink.

"Door number three, please," Jepha says.

Dan's fingers tighten on Jepha's ass, Jepha jerks forward, his dick against Dan's stomach, smearing wet on his t-shirt, his ass in Dan's hands, strong fingers shifting and burning across his abused skin.

Jepha is still a bit drunk, still pretty stoned, utterly high on endorphins and adrenaline and Dan. He can hear Bert singing "My Humps" in the lounge. He knows better. He knows better, but he leans forward and kisses Dan anyway. Story of his life.

---

"Epilogue":

Then they dun much sex and it was kinda awkward in the morning, but less so with every joke Quinn and Bert relentlessly threw at them. Turns out Jepha's a loud spankee. So Jepha is like, "how do you know we weren't just, you know, fighting?" which is very lame and Dan nearly snorts cereal milk out his nose at it. Quinn just silently reaches towards his feet and comes back up holding Jepha's pants and underwear, then dumps them on the table.

"Fighting with no pants?" Quinn asks, hideously smug.

Jepha's like, "it's not like it hasn't happened before."

Which is has, but that's not the point.

"Not the point," Quinn says.

"It's okay Quinn, you’re still my favourite Private Dick," Bert says, reading a magazine with his hideous/cute geek glasses on.

Quinn steals some of Bert's half eaten toast and stuffs it in his mouth, then drowns it in coffee before he chews all chipmunk cheeked, because he's gross and Bert will take it back, out of his mouth if necessary, if he doesn't.

So Bert and Quinn have a slap fight and then Dan steals the rest of Bert's toast that he's abandoned to fight with Quinn over and then they realise what's happened and Dan bolts and gets chased and spits toast all over the carpet and the ensuing wrestling match rubs it all into the rug and Bert gets peanut butter in his hair and complains about having to shower for so long that Quinn like, "do you want me to fucking wash it for you, you baby?" and Bert is like "YES!!"

And Dan and Jepha stand there with arms around each other like proud parents or something.

The End.

ALSO THERE WAS PROBABLY GROUP SEX.