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"You're doin' it wrong." Johnny shamelessly mutters, eyes trained on Kerry's spread legs. More specifically the hand between them, spreading himself out just enough to show the flushed head of his t-dick. His own hands calmly lighting his own cigarette just after he stubbed out the last one.
"How could I be doin' it wrong?" Kerry's breath is heavy, a finger pressed just over his swollen cock. Slow, small circles making him easily shudder. The sweet blush on his cheeks compliments the haze in his brown eyes.
"Ain't doin' it right, Ker…" Johnny shakes his head, "Tryin' to get off like a girl? C'mon, that ain't jerking off." He clicks his tongue, dragging himself to sit upright. Smoke curls around his face as he leans forward.
The soft exhale isn't missed, pulling a small smirk onto Johnny's face. His eyes trained on the way Kerry's hand presses over his cunt, rather than the single finger on his cock. He wets his own lips as he watches his friend—input?—spread his fingers, slick clinging to them.
Kerry's breath hitches, hips moving to grind against his own palm, making good use of the wetness in his hand. Half-lidded eyes blink up at Johnny, fluttering when his hips stutter.
"Half-way there, atta boy… Humping your fist like a man." Silverhand lets a small chuckle fall from his lips where his cigarette hangs out, "Don't do that girly shit, look fuckin' stupid doin' that. Use your dick like you're meant to."
"You know it ain't a real one." Kerry pulls his hand up, as if he's setting himself on display. Proving what he is, showing off the slick-soaked cunt. Every other huff of air is accompanied by a weak throb, a little twitch of his swollen t-dick.
The warm lights hit him just right. It's too damn easy to get lost in the sight; Kerry's loose tank-top pulled over his abdomen, jeans tucked under his arm, thong still caught on one leg at the bend of his knee.
"Twitches like one, don't it?" Johnny takes the cigarette between two fingers, metallic ones holding it with almost a crushing grip. Gaze stuck on the pretty sight in front of him. Lapping up any drool from the corner of his lips the longer he watches the man he's made into a whore.
"Johnny…" The other whispers, a lip between his teeth. The view of his cock jutting out from his folds still beautifully unobstructed. The forceful throbbing leaving Johnny just as much of a mess. Kerry likes this.
"Tell me what it is, Ker, c'mon."
Kerry's hand slowly slides back down, just two fingers against the sides of his t-dick. Thick between them, pulsing against his hand.
"'s a clit, you.. you know that." His head tilts down, looking at the flushed dick in his hand. Slick with the mess he's yet to wipe off his hand.
"Do I gotta drill it into your gonk head? Boys know what they've got, try it again." Johnny waves his hand slightly, flicking ash into the side of an empty beer can in the movement as if it was natural for him.
"It sure as shit isn't a cock." Kerry utters under his breath, soft puffs of air filling the quiet between their words. His hand trembles slightly, bringing his fingers together to rub over his cock.
"You tryin' to play a game or somethin' here?" He sighs a smoke-filled breath in Kerry's direction, a small groan coming from him as he stands. Johnny hums ever so quietly as Kerry's eyes follow him, big and soft, anticipating something.
"Nah, nah, it's just…" Kerry groans, hips shakily trying to press into his fingers. More pressure, more need.
"You talk like that again, Ker, this is goin' out on your dick." It's a promise and Kerry knows it by the steps too eagerly walking up to him until Johnny's stood between his spread legs. He knows it by the grin on his face, the smug fucker looking down at him like he has before so many damn times. They both like it like this. The threat of it all.
His hand doesn't stop moving, slow, agonizing circles around his t-dick, never enough to push him over the edge but make him throb in that sweet way. Enough to keep him soaked, pulling his hand back whenever he was almost there. His little pants and whimpers, not quite moans, certainly spur Johnny on.
Fuck, the hell did Johnny do to earn Kerry like this? Hips moving up as if he couldn't get enough. Fucking up against his own hand like a goddamn dog.
"Try again, tell me what what you've got… Maybe I'll show you how to get off right, instead of you actin' like a mutt for it." Johnny presses one knee onto the couch next to Ker, letting the cushion dip. The cigarette hangs dangerously close to Kerry's face during Johnny's slow drags of it, fingers never letting up the unnecessarily tight grip.
"'s my dick, Johnny—fuck—it's my cock." Kerry's brows pinch together, breath heavy. He looks at Johnny through his eyelashes, letting them flutter when his fingers brush that extra sensitive spot. The smoke clogs his lungs, breathing in gasps of it like it wasn't choking him.
The pride in Johnny's face alone is enough to finally pull a soft, breathy moan from Kerry's chest.
"Atta boy. That's it, got that in your head now?" He smirks, canines peeking out.
"Yeah- yeah," The other gasps, breaths not quite filling his lungs, "I got it, I got it now." His fingers tremble over where they circle his cock.
"Take your hand off, pretty boy, lemme show you how to use your cock right." Johnny prompts. He easily leans over the side of the couch, to a side table, to drop the lit cig into a half-full beer that's been sitting there for three days, at least.
Kerry listens with quick enthusiasm, palm flat against the small bush he's neglected shaving—maybe 'cause he likes the way Johnny's fingers feel brushing over it. His eyes follow Johnny's arm, tracing it's shape down to his palm. The metal palm and padded fingertips…
"You want this somewhere, pup?" As Johnny pulls his hand back, he goes to rest it over Kerry's cheek, down and down until it's resting over his chest. Covered gently by the tank top, loose. Johnny doesn't hesitate to run his fingers down, leaving soft impressions in Kerry's skin.
Down, further, through the cut in the shirt until Kerry lets out an audible whine as the metal perfectly rubs over a thick scar in a smooth motion Johnny's memorized by now.
"Yeah, yeah- just.. C'mon, Johnny… Know what I want." Practically a whimper, no longer bitten on his tongue before the sound can fall from his lips. His neck bared, the light bump of his adam's apple bobbing in his throat with every quiet sound, the little specks of facial hair still growing in, head lifted to look up at Johnny.
Johnny smiles at the sight. Honest, proud. He did that. Filled every syringe, held Kerry down as the needle breached his skin, emptied vial after vial to make Kerry look like this. Johnny made him into this… This sweaty, soaked, needy thing one shot at a time and he intends to make Kerry stay this way.
"Been achin' for it for an hour, 'course I know…" He hums, gaze trailing up and down the man he's made. Sculpted with violent hands, and yet, Kerry still looks at him with big, stupid puppy eyes. Johnny's thumb brushes over the scar, and up slightly to tweak one of the hard nipples that's been peeking through the tank since he told Kerry to shimmy out of those tight jeans. Needy bastard.
The sweet rewards the same it's always been; Kerry's chest pushing forward against his hand, drawing a breathy whine from his throat. Those new scars decorating his chest or not, he gets the same reaction. God bless new tech… All that sensation, if not multiplied.
"Please, Johnny, dammit! Not gettin' any softer, for fuck's sake…" Kerry's hand trembles where it rests over his twitching cock, slowly sliding back down to brush over the hood. Too much, not enough… He can't decide as he twitches under his own touch.
"I'll show you, I'll show you… Calm it, ain't lookin' for ya to nip me, doll." He laces the words in a sweet poison Kerry eagerly licks up, eyes fluttering as he does. Leaving a last teasing pinch before he withdraws his hand from the other's shirt, letting it rest over his chest, chrome just gently brushing over his collarbone. Drawing this out on purpose to watch Kerry squirm.
God, the way he looks like this, the sweat making little wisps of hair stick to his forehead, breaths barely restrained, hips trying to buck up to fuck his fingers… The damn mutt made in Johnny's image. Neither of them are praying men, but Johnny's mouth waters to get on his knees in front of him. No, that's for later. Maybe even Kerry's reward for finally understanding what he is. What this is.
"I will if you don't-" A sharp inhale as Kerry's fingers brush over his t-dick, "if you don't get a move on." He blinks, slow, light movements keeping him on the edge with such minimal contact. Leaking enough with Johnny's words to egg him on to dampen the couch underneath him. Teasing's part of the game, even as Ker parts his lips for a breath that's quickly followed by a very directed swipe of his tongue over his canines.
"Like it when you get mouthy, y'know." Johnny pulls his hand back, moving to a comfortable position until his ass his planted on the couch by Kerry's. That chrome hand moving to the arm of the couch, rather than remaining on his chest.
"Fuck you. Need it 'n' you're fuckin' with me." Kerry bares his teeth, like he would actually lean to bite the hands that made him this way. Would he get a punishment or reward for lashing out? Would that bite, that reminder, get Johnny off too?
"Least you're finally thinkin' with your dick. You're soaked just 'cause 'm fuckin' with you." He laughs, airy and short, "Spread your legs more, pretty boy, lemme show you how to do it."
Harsh words sit on Kerry's tongue for a split second before those instructions get through his skull. Knows it's true anyway—getting off just to Johnny fucking with him like his cock wasn't aching and he wasn't throbbing worse than he ever did before. Melted down and built back up again like that was all he was good for.
"That's it, move your hand, lemme…" Johnny's hand slides over his thigh, feeling the thick body hair over what once was soft, delicate skin. His eyes flicker up from Kerry's cunt, from the sight of his cock twitching.
"Shit, Johnny, finally gonna touch me?" He moves his hand faster than he can think to process what he's being told. Kerry almost bats his eyelashes up at Johnny, a small pout on his lips.
"The fuck you think?" His organic hand replaces Kerry's almost immediately, unable to suppress a groan as he feels the warmth of Kerry's cunt on his fingers, soaking his fingers with all the slick his body's pouring. Better than watching… Feeling the weight of his cock between his fingers, feeling it throb and twitch.
"Fuuuck…" Kerry's body jolts, hips jerking into Johnny's touch.
"That's it, watch me, watch my hand." He murmurs, taking Kerry's swollen t-dick between two fingers, pressing but not pinching. The thighs around his hand tries to squeeze together, shaking just enough for Johnny to smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Kerry nods, blinking quickly to clear the growing haze in his eyes. He holds his legs open, his own twitching hands grabbing at his shirt to hold something.
"You do it like this… 'tween your fingers, 'kay? Gotta hold it, 's your dick, right? Tryin'a get off with it?" Johnny keeps glancing up and down, watching like Kerry'll get any of this in his head while he's holding his cock.
"Y-yeah. Fuck, that's all I've been tryin' to do."
"Mh.. Look at you," Johnny clicks his tongue, bringing his fingers up and down slowly. Testing, teasing, seeing how much Kerry can take.
A moan rumbles in his chest, pulling and pulling those sounds from him the more Johnny strokes him. Kerry hardly keeps his eyes down, unfocused when he tries.
"Tell me what 'm doin, Ker, what'm I doin' with you?" He tests, eye's piercing as he stares at the man to his side. Two fingers easily sliding up and down his cock with the amount of slick soaking his crotch.
"Johnny, Johnny…" His thighs tremble, not stopping himself from lazily grabbing Johnny's wrist, "You're- you're jerkin' me off."
"Finally gettin' it…" Johnny purrs with a nod of approval. The chrome hand clicks with metal against metal as he grabs for his zipper, the hand on Kerry's cock remaining firmly there, albeit messy with it's movements.
"Gettin' off to gettin' me off… Fu-fuuuck…" Kerry's chest heaves, short gasps filling his lungs, "Y'like it too."
Johnny doesn't bother with a reply, just adding more pressure around Kerry's cock. Laying his hand almost flat against him, giving Ker something to fuck easier. God does he do just that…
Hips bucking up, a lip bitten between his teeth that barely stifles anything at all. All his sounds, whimpers to moans just ever so barely muffled. Johnny can't get enough, the chrome hand slipping over his waistbands, letting himself squirm enough to shimmy out of his own pants.
Barely any better than Kerry… His own soft groan falling from his lips as his chrome brushes through his own slick, his wet boxers sticking to him for a mere moment. The soaked through patch in the fabric is merely glanced at and disregarded once he sees it. He's long stopped caring the idea of catching himself between the metal joints after it happened one too many times, too. Christ, the way he's worked up… Cock heavy against his fingers. What Ker did to him… Hell, what he did to himself.
"Look what you did, Kerry… Got me hard as hell jus' from watchin' you squirm."
When he looks up, Kerry's eyes are already stuck to him. Heavy breaths filling the air along side his soft, desperate sounds. Those same eyes Johnny got used to seeing look up at him from between his legs, those same lips letting out those moans that once whispered how much he wanted to have what Johnny did. That heavy cock, hard and swollen just from Kerry…
"Want that… Shit, Johnny, you're huge." Kerry whispered against Johnny's thigh, his thumb pressing under the head of Johnny's own t-dick. Every little breath fanning over it, making him twitch and throb.
"You wanna be a man, Ker? I'll help… Gotta be good for it, doll." Johnny had brushed through his hair, merely using it to pull Kerry's face closer to his heat.
"Yeah.. Yeah, I wanna." His voice broke into a soft, high moan as Johnny's scent filled his nose.
It was so easy… Taking Kerry away from the pains of every little feminine thing about him, stripping away the flowy shirts and skin tight dresses he said framed his body just right. Johnny saw the look in his eyes, the pain and discomfort, the way he shrunk back and hid. That one notable hoodie he never seemed to ditch.
Johnny could take it all away, fill it with tuesdays of a quick injection, toss clothes to him that he'd actually wear, tug a binder over his chest and secure a strap on his hips… One 'good boy' away from every wish of living the way he did going away.
He got to watch Kerry's shoulders straighten out, his head lift, his chest get tucked behind a binder going to his chest being open to the air with those pretty scars underneath it. He can call himself a self-made man all he wants, they both know who's drawing up the needles and showing him the ropes.
He got to see Kerry so easily strip his pants and come crawling to Johnny, to use him or be used by him; whatever worked best. Whether Johnny tightened that strap around Kerry's waist, sunk his fingers into his cunt, or made Ker hump his thigh till he came…
Johnny took what he was given and molded what he wanted. A mutt, a toy, a man with a pretty face and sweet moan. Anything he damn well pleased. Kerry slipped into the role perfectly, finally keeping his head up high, singing those vocals with his whole chest. It burns the same pride in his chest that this sight does.
"Can I- can I touch you, please?" Kerry's chest sputters when their eyes meet, neither quite able to keep eye contact for a more than a second. The damn whore unable to stop himself from fucking Johnny's hand to ask a single question without stuttering. Grinding his slick cock between the little gaps between his fingers, desperate to get something more than this.
"Nuh-uh. Plannin' on keeping you here a minute…" He replies, letting his head turn back to himself, metal fingers slowly spreading himself out for Kerry to get what he could of a view from his side. Mostly the way his dick stands between his fingers… An inch, maybe an inch and a half bigger than Kerry's.
"I can get you off!" Kerry's words come out harsh, forced with breaths behind them. His eyebrows pinch further together, a needy, drawn out whine forced from his chest as Johnny presses his palm right up against his shaft and holds it there. Those brown eyes fluttering shut with the effort to practically hump his bandmate's hand.
Horny little mutt. Eager for nothing more than getting off and getting Johnny off… It'd be endearing if Johnny wasn't so interested in watching his friend unravel in his hands, rather than coming himself.
"You haven't even shown me you know how to jerk off in the first place, look at your own dick, watch me… Maybe you'll learn somethin'." He shakes his head, looking at Kerry almost fondly. Too wet to even know what to do with himself. Just wanting to please and be pleasured.
"Johnny, c'mon, man, c'mon-! I can!" Insisting doesn't help much when Johnny can see him so clearly not looking at the hand on his dick. Rather, Kerry has his head tilted up, to the side, resting on the back of the couch to look at Johnny when his eyes weren't screwed shut.
"You were gettin' off like a girl five minutes ago. I had to show you how to fuckin' hold your dick." Silverhand quietly scoffs, though that smirk remains on his lips. Taunting, playing with Kerry, knowing the man's not no advantage here. All of this was because of Johnny, for Johnny.
"Please." Big brown eyes looking up at Johnny for a moment, a pout on his lips. Johnny wants to say that's never worked on him, but it's earned Kerry a spot between his legs more than it hasn't—what can he say, he likes when his mutt acts exactly how he's been trained to.
"Begging isn't gonna get you anywhere tonight, Ker. I can promise you that." Leisurely, Johnny's chrome fingers rub over his own cock, glancing anywhere but those eyes. He dips his fingers down to gather slick before going right back to what he was before.
This isn't to get off; if he wanted to, he would've already. Probably an hour ago when he started this whole thing. It would've been so easy to tug his pants down and get off while denying Kerry that release, but this… Reducing Kerry down to whines and pleas like a good boy is so much better.
"F-fine." Kerry's breath hitches as his hips stutter, his eyes glancing back down to watch the way Johnny's hand expertly holds his little cock. Just adding pressure against his crotch when Ker moves just a little too much. It brings him back to stilling with such a simple movement.
God, to have something that just wants to be good. Mouthy as the fucker is. At least Johnny can use that in his favor.
"Pay attention to what I'm doin'… Be a good boy 'n' say thank you."
Thank you for making me this.
Thank you for using me.
Thank you for every dose, every injection.
Thank you for making me a man.
"Thank you- Johnny-" His voice rasps, cut off by a sharp inhale through his teeth. Keeping his gaze down this time, though Johnny's not so sure he's seeing a damn thing.
Johnny's hand moves faster, working his fingers over Kerry's t-dick. Over the head, leaving a sweet amount of pressure on one side. He keeps his hand there for a moment, eyes flickering up to see Kerry's lip bitten between his teeth, those breaths coming in faster. More shallow.
All this for him. His hard work, in the form of Kerry's hard cock throbbing between his fingers, the way his hips try to rut up for more. Handsome thing, ain't he? Soaked and desperate.
He doesn't have to ask, Kerry doesn't have to say anything when his short gasps say it all. Close, and Johnny knows it.
Maybe it's a little cruel to pinch, ever so slightly. A little mean to let his hand pause for just a second before going back to jerking him off. A little rude to laugh when Kerry whines. Actually whines, all high and needy with its voice cracks. His voice hasn't settled yet, sometimes that's one of the best parts; when Kerry begs and moans and his voice can't handle the pathetic need.
"That's it, c'mon, cum on my hand…" Johnny murmurs, "Finally lookin' like a real man now. Feel like one yet?" He almost coos, a bit too gentle for the words on his lips.
Quickly, Kerry nods. Breathless, short, panted moans passing his lips every second Johnny toys with his dick. His eyes flutter, hands grabbing at anything he can reach—which is Johnny's wrist and his sweaty tank top.
His thighs tense, all of his air coming out as his body trembles and his back arches. Closer into Johnny's hand, closer to the edge.
"Please!" Ker's voice cracks again.
"I got you, pup…"
To say Johnny eases him through his orgasm would be a lie. It's with his rough hand keeping that dangerous pressure, the air barely getting pulled into his lungs once he finally inhales again. At some point, his vision blacks around the edges. His head spins and all there is now is Johnny's hand stroking his cock. Treating him like a man, or maybe the dog he's trained.
Coming in waves the more friction adds to his abused t-dick, soaked cunt throbbing with his rapid heart rate. No doubt leaving the couch beneath them with a fresh stain neither of them will care to clean—It's their claim to it, Johnny's proof he did good.
There's no words to make Johnny pause, nothing to say to stop his body shaking like a wet dog. It's done when Johnny's done with him. Hell, that's half of the appeal.
Kerry bites off any cries, letting his low groans slip through instead. Rumbling in his chest, deep and reverberating. He bucks his hips, Johnny feels every throb, every pulse, of his slick hole, every time his cock twitches between his fingers… It's an addicting feeling, knowing Kerry wants it and can't take it all at once.
Johnny's metallic hand abandons his own cock to reach for Kerry. At least he wipes it off on his shirt before he rests it on Kerry's flushed cheek, too soft for a man who almost crushed a cigarette between those fingers not long ago.
"Look a' me…" He murmurs with a heavy breath, leaned in close. The fingers on Kerry's dick let up, rested just barely away. Enough for the simplest twitch of Johnny's fingers to brush it again.
His chest heaves, brown eyes only blinking open enough to hazily look at Johnny. Floating, no doubt. Ker's body's pressed against the couch like he can't pull himself away from it, other than the sweet way his back is still trying to arch up, hips trying to search for Johnny's hand even though he couldn't take another orgasm in the same five seconds.
"Did real good, Ker… Soaked me to the bone." Johnny brushes his thumb over Kerry's cheek bone, before slowly moving it to cup his face.
Easily, Kerry's eyes slip shut again. A stupid little grin on his face. He did good.
"Atta boy… Give you a reward in a minute, yeah, mutt?" He chuckles at the sight of Kerry melting for him. Falling into his palm, tense thighs loosening by the hand far too close to his cock.
Kerry's hand also lets up the grip on Johnny's wrist, instead letting it snake up his arm. Resting, not holding. Feeling every inch of skin just for the sake of it.
Softly, he nods, lips parting with no words in his mouth.
"Shh," Johnny breathes, "don't worry about a thing."
He's not worrying, not in the slightest. Easier to let go of that when Johnny's breath mixes with him and he can sink into the feeling of Johnny's lips on his, taking from him without making it feel like somethings been stolen.
Just the quiet praises circling his mind in the few moments Johnny pulls away. Speaking against his lips, staining them with his spit that Kerry so eagerly licks up.
Look what Johnny made. All his hard work made into this.