Interior Design

for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis

contains: vaginal penetration/PIV sex, no lube, fingering, cis/trans, angel/demon

dysphoria warning: Pride is a trans man whose genitals are described with the following terms: cunt, clit, hole. Please use discretion if these words will trigger any dysphoria.

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Pride got all the way down the hall before he realized he couldn’t remember what he was doing.

He stood, frozen where the carpet met the wood floor, and stared into the distance. There was a reason he left his room. He wouldn’t get up and walk out for no reason—but what was it? His mind offered no hints, blank of reason and full of only confusion. Still, an urge persisted that he’d forgotten something, the thing he’d come out here for.

A shrill ding! at his hip alerted him to a new text. Pride leaned against the wall and pulled his phone out to answer it. If he stood here long enough, surely, he’d remember what he was doing.

He passed a minute or two breezily texting away, when he was suddenly lifted off the ground. Pride yelped, almost dropping his phone to scrabble at the arms that appeared around his waist.

“’Scuse me,” Justice said, and plopped him down in the living room, about two feet from where he’d been standing. Then he kept walking, as if nothing had happened.

“I—You—What was that for?” Pride sputtered, stopping short of stamping his feet in indignation.

Justice turned and shrugged. “You were in the way.”

“You could have just walked past me.”

“I did.”

And he moved along. Pride spent a good minute screwing up his face about it, tail appearing to lash in angry arcs at his back. He was not a piece of furniture or a prop, content to be moved around wherever Justice liked. Although that did sound… a little sexy, it wasn’t the point!

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and marched after Justice into the kitchen, horns churning out black smoke in his fury. While Justice put together a little plate of snacks, Pride planted his feet at the only exit, arms folded.

“Can I help you with something?” Justice asked.

“Can you not move me around like an inanimate object?” he spat back. “I’m short, not a child.”

Justice put down his food and came over to him. Pride craned his neck to glower up into his face, but Justice only took his cheeks, and bent down to kiss him right between the horns.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought it would be silly, I didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

“Well. Good,” Pride said. Being angry was more difficult, tail swinging gently around his ankles. “You can still do it if you make it exciting.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know—spin me or throw me around or something.”

Justice pulled back to look at him, confused. “You didn’t like me picking you up to move you somewhere, because I should have made a bigger deal out of it?”

Pride shifted on his feet. “It’s hotter when you make a big deal out of it.”

“So you’re saying it would be fine if I did this?”

In one swift motion, Justice grabbed Pride around the waist and tossed him over his shoulder. Pride gasped, the world turning upside down in an instant. He scrambled to secure himself, gripping the waistband of his jeans for dear life—not that he needed to. Justice carried him with ease, securing his body with one arm. Like he weighed nothing at all, he easily strolled out of the kitchen with Pride dangling off him.

“Where do you think you’re taking me?” he demanded, uselessly kicking his feet.

“I don’t know yet,” Justice said. He bounced Pride on his shoulder, adjusting his grip. “Somewhere very, very tall."

There was a part of Pride that was still irritated at the indignity of it all, but a much, much larger part that could only think about the effortless way Justice carried him. Wandering circles around the house, Justice thought aloud about putting him up on a high shelf and walking away, and never once did the weight seem to bother him. Pride laughed at his ridiculous fake plans, smoke from his horns making the air as hazy as his distracted mind.

“We need another bookshelf,” Justice said, discarding another empty threat. “There’s no way you’d fit on this one.”

“I wouldn’t fit on any bookshelf,” Pride insisted.

“Maybe you’re right. I should hang you up like a picture frame.” Justice ghosted a hand down his tail. “Or a chandelier. What do you think?”

Pride bit his lip, tail instinctively twisting around his fingers. “Picture frame.”

“Really? Why?”

“Being pinned to the wall sounds way better.”

Justice turned a corner. He slid Pride halfway off his shoulder, holding him up by his waist. On instinct, Pride locked his legs around Justice, head rushing from the sudden shift in perspective. It rushed again when Justice did exactly what he asked, pinning him against the wall with the weight of his body. Their noses crossed, squishing into each other’s cheeks.

“Like this?” Justice asked, sweet and affectionate with a smile to match.

After a half-second crisis of identity, Pride decided he wanted to make-out with Justice instead of do any more thinking. He threw his arms around his neck and crushed the last breath of air between their lips into their mouths. Justice matched his enthusiasm, pressing close enough to force his head back. Pride sighed hotly, tingling head to toe as Justice squeezed him against the wall. Trapping him, with his mouth and arms and hips.

Letting his lower body do the work, Justice let go with his hands entirely, using them instead to wander along his body. As always, he was no more than gentle at the start, quietly running over Pride’s sides and his legs. Pride clung tighter with his legs, nodding into his face for more. Permission granted, Justice grew bolder, interjecting his soft touches with a firm squeeze now and again, ones that Pride groaned for.

Justice made his way up and down his body. One hand reached up to thread fingers through his hair, pulling it loose in a swift tug. At the same time, his other hand wandered to the base of his tail and pulled on it. Pride moaned, breaking the breathless kiss, and dug his nails into his shoulders in his urgent need.

“A picture frame was a good choice,” Justice told him, smiling warmly less than a breath away.

“Why?”

“Because you’re so beautiful to look at.”

Pride arched against the wall, eyes fluttered shut and toes curling. “It would be so awesome if you were inside me right now.”

Justice laughed, nuzzling into his neck. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He started to lower his arms.

“What, no!” Pride clung to him like a cat avoiding a bath. “No, just—do it right here.”

“But we don’t have any lube.”

“It’s fine, I don’t need it.”

“Do you really—”

Pride put his head back on the wall again, this time exasperated. “Can you be rough with me for, like, two minutes?”

“I hope it’ll be a bit longer than two minutes,” Justice muttered, but hefted him up.

 Not wasting time, Pride peeled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. Justice swept him back up in a kiss, as fervent as the last, and trailed over his newly exposed skin with eager hands. Pride fumbled to shove his pants off, stopping in his tracks to whimper approvingly when Justice twisted his nipple piercings. The soft numbs hardened under the attention, sending hot flashes of pleasure through his body. Cunt leaking, Pride panted and whined, struggling in his efforts to get the rest of his clothes off.

In another display that made him ache, Justice wrapped an arm around his back and removed his pants one leg at a time. Naked except for his socks, Pride felt more like a frame than ever—laid bare, on display, the border around the center of attention. And it was all too clear what this center was, Justice drinking in his exposed body.

“Am I a pretty picture?” he asked, fluttering his lashes.

“Always,” Justice replied, without a hint of irony.

Pride lashed his tail impatiently and things snapped back into motion. Pressing their bodes flush, Justice used the wall to hold Pride, and used his hands to take his clothes off at last. One button at a time, his shirt fell away. A zipper later, so did his pants, and he adjusted their position, lining himself up. Pride had mere seconds to drool over him—squished against his soft, hot skin, the tip of his hard cock shimmering with pre-cum—before he sheathed himself in one thrust.

It was a beautiful shock. Pride clutched his shoulders and gasped, cunt suddenly stuffed full. Without lube, he felt every inch stretch his hole and drag along his insides, not wet enough to make up for the lack of help. He grit his teeth, curled his toes, and shut his eyes tight.

“You okay?” Justice asked, sounding concerned through the thick fog of lust in his eyes.

“Mm,” Pride answered, and nodded quickly to make sure the message was clear.

Hands locked around his waist. Justice pressed their hips together, as deep inside as he could possibly be. Pride panted and gripped tighter with his legs. They hung there for a long minute, Pride hung up like the picture frame they joked about.

Justice slid a hand down. He trailed the curve of his hip, his thigh, and reached back for his knee. When he couldn’t go any further, he picked his hand up and licked his fingers. Pride swore under his breath before he even made it down, and whined when Justice touched his clit. His fingers drew soft circles, moving the soft nub around and around. He didn’t thrust.

“I th-thought,” Pride stuttered, “you said you’d be rough.”

“I never said that,” Justice said. He had the audacity to smirk.

“Oh, you lying piece of—f-fuck!”

As if out of spite, he decided to thrust right then. Justice pulled halfway out and jerked back in, using only the wetness of his cunt. Making up for his sass, he found a brisk rhythm, sliding rough and fast enough to bump the wall. Pride moaned for the hot, raw fucking, more than he usually would have. He enjoyed it while it lasted—Justice breathing heavily, playing with his clit, and treating him like this meant he’d make up for not using lube very soon.

“M-more, faster,” he pleaded.

“Hold on, then,” Justice replied.

His stomach flipped over. Pride wrapped his arms around his neck, tucking them under the curtain of his locs. Justice gripped his hips tight, pulled him all the way flush, and made a hard thrust. They moaned in unison, overwhelmed, and Pride kept moaning for all the thrusts after it.

Over and over, Justice pounded him against the wall, driving his cock in deep. Pride arched, desperately clinging with all four limbs as he took it. Dull thuds pounded his ears as they hit the wall, but he didn’t care—couldn’t care. All he could feel was Justice’s cock filling him up, wrecking him.

Pride let his mouth drop, deep moans rolling off his tongue. Wetter by the second, each thrust pulled out smoother than the last, soft slaps accompanying the percussion of the wall. And the more Justice fucked him, the wetter he got. Pride reeled—his feverish want created a closed loop of pleasure.

As if that wasn’t enough, Justice ducked his head and mouthed kisses along the side of his neck. He keened and raised his head for more, getting an eyeful of the dark smoke clouds his horns puffed out. Justice muffled his own sounds into his neck, punctuating the hard drive of his cock with the gentlest affection. Pride fell apart for every second of it, totally lost in the wake of plunging thrusts, soft lips, strong hands.

“You’re so beautiful,” Justice said, pressing the breathy praise into his ear. “I wish I could keep you here.”

Pride’s voice cracked, hands curling into shaking fists. Taking thrust after thrust, his thighs started to quake, tail whipping back and forth urgently. Justice mashed their lips together, swallowing up his broken sounds, and brought a hand back to his clit. Pride could barely return the kiss, the quiet wish playing on loop in his mind. If only he could stay suspended here like Justice wanted, a beautiful thing to be admired. Heat rushed through him in a tidal wave.

He choked on his own breath and came. He tightened his shaking legs around Justice, holding him inside, and Justice dutifully kissed his face and rubbed his clit until he was spent. But even after he came down, Pride didn’t let himself go limp.

Justice was still hard inside him, but he didn’t make any moves to continue. He’d probably be content if they stopped now, but Pride wouldn’t. He drew Justice into him, sweaty bodies sliding together.

“You okay?” Justice murmured.

“Mhm,” Pride mumbled back. “Still want you.”

He laughed softly, a warm sound that sent shivers down his spine. “We can keep going somewhere else, if you want.”

“Somewhere else?”

“If you don’t mind. I’m going to get sore if we keep doing this.”

Pride snickered into his shoulder. “Okay, grandpa.”

“You’re older than me.”

“And my youth abounds.”

In retaliation, Justice pulled out and threw Pride over his shoulder again. Then, he marched off to the bedroom to continue what they started, Pride cackling all the way.

 

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Tips are appreciated!