Tight Spot

for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis

contains: latex, public sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, drunk sex, cis/trans, angel/demon

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

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When Pride felt like showing off—which was often—he had a special latex dress. Shrink-wrap tight, oil slick black, and smooth to the touch, it was his favorite thing to wear at night clubs. It was so skin tight, jumping onto the dance floor and letting countless bodies rub up against him, it felt like he wasn’t wearing anything at all.

That’s what he was counting on it looking like, too, when Justice tagged along.

It was a hot night and the club made it even hotter, dozens of bodies adding their heat to the soupy air. Pride wasn’t sober enough to care, throwing his body in drunken circles on the dance floor. Sweat raced down his back, matting his body hair down, and slipping under his dress. It made the latex itch, but he barely felt it. He was too busy shivering with delight at the way it melded to his slick skin, the way it hugged his body, from the thin straps across his shoulders to hem that stopped mid-thigh. It was more electric than the music blasting into his ears, and it felt almost as good as knowing he was being watched the whole time.

Even tipsy as he was, Justice was self-conscious about dancing. He sat at the table they’d claimed and promised to watch while Pride joined the crowd by himself, though he didn’t need to promise. He’d been staring all night, whispers of lust floating around him since they left the house. Pride threw a glance back and grinned. Justice watched him hungrily, one hand mashed against his face like he was trying to hide his embarrassment.

Pride slid his hands down his sides, showing off what they both knew was true. The dress was tight enough to show the barbells of his nipple piercings, so surely if he was wearing anything else underneath it, it would have shown through. But he wasn’t.

Justice crossed his legs and Pride could taste his lust from here. Maybe. It might have been from someone else. Or the dozens of somebodies shedding lust in droves, along with gluttony, envy, and pride. It made him as dizzy as the alcohol, cross-faded on sin and liquor.

More than happy to add his own, Pride danced more for Justice than anything else. He raked his hands over body, swung his hips, and turned in circles until he stumbled. To his delight, Justice watched in rapt attention, but brought a new hunger. He wanted Justice to rake his hands over his sides instead. He wanted a body to grind against. Dancing alone started to lose its appeal.

Pride staggered back to the table in as straight a line as he could manage. Justice watched him approach, but didn’t seem to notice what he was doing until he was already almost there. When he did realize, he perked up instantly.

“Hi!” he blurted, reaching out as far as he could. “Hi, you’re coming back!”

“Hi,” Pride said, letting himself be snatched around the waist. “I’m back.”

Justice hugged him and nuzzled into his stomach. “You’re so pretty. So, so much…”

He couldn’t answer, throwing back one of the shots he’d abandoned, but took the compliment with a shiver. The alcohol burned down his throat, matching the heat that raced down his spine.

“Let’s dance,” Pride said. He tilted Justice’s face back. “We should dance.”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“You can touch meeee.” He took Justice’s hands and slid them all over.

“Oh.” Justice moved his hands on his own, wandering down his hips. Pride scraped his teeth across his bottom lip and Justice squeezed a bit. “I like doing that.”

“C’mon.”

Pride grabbed his wrists and yanked him out of his chair. Justice stumbled forward, nearly tripping, but followed him out to the dance floor with eager eyes. The excitement stuttered when they got there, bass pounding in their ears, and got swallowed up into the squirming mass of people.

But Pride finally had what he wanted, and wasn’t about to let it go to waste. He slapped Justice’s hands back on him, performing all the moves he’d done from afar. This time, he got to feel someone else’s hands, and got to grab at Justice, too. Pride tangled his fingers in the net shirt he wore, raked down his chest, yanked at the waist of his tight black jeans, and Justice fell into rhythm with him.

Before he knew it, Pride was grinding on him, and Justice was grabbing everything he could reach. They barely kept time with the music, the song irrelevant to what their dance was really about. Justice dragged up his ribs, down his back, smoothed over his hips, grabbed his ass, and Pride could have been completely naked for all the difference his dress made. He moaned more than once, so exposed and squeezed so tightly at the same time. With nothing but the latex, grinding drove him crazy, throwing himself at Justice again and again. Justice spun him once, Pride threw his arms around his neck, and all of a sudden, they weren’t dancing anymore.

Pride wasn’t sure which one of them started it, but there were hands on his back and a tongue in his mouth, so he didn’t care. He kissed Justice fiercely, digging his nails into his shoulders. In return, Justice squished them even closer together, something Pride made a desperate moan for. His head pounded with loud music and heat, his body dripped with sweat, and he was so horny.

Someone shoved them. They broke apart and stumbled out of the crowd, looking around in a confused stupor. Pride, in particular, whirled around furiously for the assailant.

“Go suck face somewhere else!” someone shouted.

“Your face sucks!” Pride spat back.

Justice took him by the arm and dragged him away, which he briefly protested, but he was still buzzing with lust—his and Justice’s both, the flower-wine taste bombarding his senses. Pride clutched his arm, an idea in mind.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he suggested, and swung them in a new direction.

Drunk enough to forget his strength and height advantage, Justice followed him to the back of the club. The alcove where the restrooms hid was dark and smelled awful, but Pride chased toward it with glee. Unfortunately, both handles refused to budge when he jiggled them.

“Urgh!” he groaned, and kicked the door.

“What the fuck?” the person inside complained.

“Fuck off!”

Justice shushed him, backing him into the nearest corner. “Hey, hey, don’t be mad. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Pride refused to listen on principle, but changed his mind when Justice swept him up in a kiss. It was slow, nothing like their kiss on the dance floor, but it ignited the same feelings in him. Pride grabbed his face, whimpering against his mouth, and Justice deepened it for him. Pride all but went limp in his arms, sloshed with alcohol and desire.

“Let’s do something,” he whispered. “Please, please, please…”

“I want to,” Justice mumbled, trying not to stop kissing him. “You’re so pretty. I want to.”

Pride nodded, aching, toes curling in his boots. Justice slid off his mouth and started a sloppy trail across his jaw, and down his neck. He crouched to keep going, moving across his exposed collarbone, and then down across the dress, pressing wet kisses to the latex as if it were skin. Pride grabbed his head in frantic approval, watching him sink all the way down to his knees.

Justice dragged his hands down Pride’s hips, pressing a kiss at the hem of the dress. He slipped his fingers underneath. Breathing hard, Pride plopped a leg over his shoulder.

Taking the invitation, Justice ducked under the dress. He sloppily mouthed at Pride’s cunt, no grace or finesse, but it still made him gasp. Just having his mouth there, kissing and licking and teasing, made him squirm against the wall.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he slurred. “Keep—more.”

Justice made a muffled sound. He swirled his tongue around his hole, kissed his clit, moved his mouth everywhere it could reach. Pride panted, hips twitching. Justice took hold of them, pressing his clumsy mouth even closer to his cunt, licking with reckless abandon.

Pride rocked against his face. He chewed his lip, whined, and played with his nipples through the dress, rubbing and twisting the barbells with drunken fingers. Justice licked his clit in long stripes, up and down, interrupting himself to kiss him there wetly. It was good, but Pride wanted more.

“More,” he whined. “Gimme more.”

Justice came out from under the dress instead, panting. When Pride pouted in severe protest, he explained, “F-forgot t’ breathe.”

Pride burst into giggles, rolling his head around on the wall. Justice laughed and picked hairs off his tongue. They smiled at each other, breathless and stupid, while the lights from the club flashed from down the hall.

Justice kissed the inside of his thigh with wet lips, then higher, and higher. Pride sighed, watching him get closer—

The flashing lights became one blindingly bright light. Pride hissed and shielded his eyes. Justice turned around confused, then cowered as well.

“Listen,” said a tired voice, belonging to a bouncer with a very bright flashlight. “You guys can’t do that here. You’re gonna have to go somewhere else.”

“Pfft,” Pride scoffed. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“You do actually.”

He opened his mouth to give a furious retort, but Justice jumped to his clumsy feet.

“We do!” he agreed, and snatched Pride’s hand. “Goodbye, we’re going.”

Pride struggled against him all the way, but Justice remembered his strength this time, and was able to drag him out easily. They stumbled down the street on the way home, Justice swinging their hands back and forth.

“That was stupid,” Pride muttered.

“I think it’s good,” Justice said.

“It’s not good. It sucks.”

“But we get to be together now. And we can go home… and stuff.”

Pride considered this. They did get to go home. And stuff.

“Stuff,” he repeated, sly. “Hmm.”

“Yeah,” Justice said, ducking his chin into his chest. “You’re still pretty.”

Pride tugged the hem of his dress down a little. “I know.”

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Tips are appreciated!