leashy_bebes | fic: Worth A Cheer (1/1)

Title: Worth a Cheer
Pairing: Gwaine/Percival
Rating: NC17
Summary: Modern AU. The first time Percy meets Gwaine, he's wearing a cheerleader's skirt and not much else. After that, certain things are inevitable.
Notes: For

badjujuboo who, as well as being generally lovely, linked to the picture of the skirt in question and pleaded for fic. Who am I to disoblige? Thanks to

isisanubis for the beta.
Word Count: ~2600

Or read on ao3

It happens on a Tuesday, which should really be one of the most normal, boring days of the week. Instead, Percy meets his new neighbour, gets offered a place on one of the university football teams by him, (I don't even care if you're any good, you're big enough to fill the goal and scare the shite out of the other side) and invited out to meet the rest of the squad.

"That's us," Arthur says as they enter the pub, pointing over at a crowded table. Percy recognises one of the group from his seminar on modern philosophy, but mainly he's too busy being distracted by a guy on the edge of the group. He's possibly the most gorgeous person Percy has ever seen, dark hair curling against his neck, laughing eyes, and a shirtless, to-die-for body.

"Who's the naked guy?" Percy asks, aiming for casual and missing, he's sure.

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Gwaine. He's protesting," Arthur says, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Protesting what, exactly?" This Gwaine makes a very good argument against sexual shyness, Percy knows that much.

"That Vivian won't let him into the cheerleading squad."

"Huh?"

It suddenly makes sense when Gwaine stands and makes his way from the table to the bar. He's wearing a short – Jesus, really fucking short – red skirt, alternating yellow and white pleats. It flares out from his slim hips, dragging Percy's eyes down perfectly muscled legs to battered biker boots. It feels like the temperature in the bar's leapt about ten degrees. When Gwaine leans against the bar to get the barmaid's attention – Percy can't quite understand why everyone in the bar isn't absolutely riveted on him, anyway – the skirt hitches up another half inch.

"C'mon," Arthur says. "Come and say hi to everyone."

Percy doesn't quite stumble over his own feet on the way there, but it's a near thing, his eyes still fixed on those perfect fucking legs.

"Gentlemen," Arthur announces. "Allow me to introduce our new goalkeeper. Percy, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Percy."

Everyone's kind, welcoming, relieved to have found a goalie for the weekend match at such short notice. Percy's ashamed to say he can barely remember their names after five minutes. He only has eyes for Gwaine, and his sinfully sexy little skirt. The image of him leaning up against the bar was instantly branded into Percy's mind and he can't stop thinking about pushing Gwaine further forward, flipping up that little skirt and taking him right there. Fuck, he's hot. He's also a shameless flirt, brimming with self-confidence, which probably goes some way towards explaining his willingness to wear a miniskirt straight out of a barely legal porn shoot in a crowded pub. He notices Percy's attention quickly, and returns it in spades.

The night quickly wears on. The lights drop, the volume on the sound system shoots up, and the drinks keep flowing, making the place feel more club than bar. It has the advantage of meaning Gwaine leans in close when he speaks, close enough for Percy to feel the heat coming off his bare skin, to smell some faint trace of spice. Jesus, he's the hottest thing on the fucking planet, Percy thinks to himself.

"So I hear you're a pioneering crusader for gender equality in cheerleading," Percy says.

Gwaine grins, knocking his elbow against Percy's. "That's me. Justice in all things. Vivian's just jealous. She knows who has the better legs," Gwaine scoffs.

"No argument there," Percy says softly.

With a smug grin, Gwaine beckons Percy closer and makes him repeat himself. That done, Gwaine squeezes Percy's arm and tells him, "I've got to admit, I'm looking forward to you in shorts at this match on Saturday."

"Yeah?" Percy looks Gwaine up and down again, lingering on his strong thighs below the bottom of the skirt. "You gonna do a little dance for me?"

"I could be persuaded."

A while later, Percy excuses himself to go to the loo and now he's killing time after washing his hands, trying to work up the casual confidence required to ask Gwaine to come home with him. Before he can though, Gwaine crashes through the doorway, the volume of the music flaring and then dying as the door shuts behind him.

Gwaine looks Percy up and down, wets his lips and then hesitates. Percy doesn't, closing the distance between them in a couple of strides, his hands already up to pull Gwaine in.

"Ah, thank Christ," Gwaine groans, running his hands up over Percy's chest to clutch his shoulders. "That makes things easier."

Percy laughs and suddenly it's the easiest thing in the world to say, "Come home with me?"

"Uh. Yes," Gwaine says. "But, um. Didn't bring a change of clothes and right now I'm kinda – "

He pulls Percy's hand between them and Percy's breath catches for a moment. Gwaine is hard under the skirt, tenting it obscenely, his modesty just about preserved by the matching red sports knickers he's wearing.

"Oh, fuck," Percy groans, squeezing Gwaine through the skirt. Gwaine's eyes close slowly and Percy notices his long lashes for the first time, brushes his thumb over Gwaine's cheekbone. Gwaine's eyes fly open again, and he reaches up to pull Percy down and kiss him. His mouth is as hot as his skin, opening easily under Percy's.

"C'mere, come on," Gwaine says, pushing at Percy, nudging him towards the one stall with a lockable door. Percy pushes Gwaine ahead of him for the pleasure of watching the skirt sway against his thighs.

Gwaine kisses him again as soon as they get the door shut behind them and Percy buries his hand in Gwaine's hair to tug him in closer. It turns dirty fast, Gwaine making soft, pleased noises into Percy's mouth.

"Christ, you're so fucking hot," Percy tells him. Gwaine is no lightweight, but Percy is motivated and hungry for it, enough to make it seem easy when he heaves Gwaine upwards, crushes him between the wall and his body. The short, stiff skirt gets crumpled between them. Gwaine hooks his legs around Percy's waist and Percy runs his hand from Gwaine's knee to the top of his thigh. He slides his fingers inside the soft material of the underwear Gwaine's wearing, squeezes his arse.

"God," Gwaine murmurs, his eyes dark, apparently liking Percy's show of strength. "You make me look like some fainting maiden."

"Well you are wearing a skirt," Percy points out reasonably.

Gwaine laughs, digs his fingers into Percy's shoulders and arches off the wall, pushing his dick against Percy. Percy squeezes Gwaine's thigh, tags his shoulder to the wall and kisses him again. This is crazy, but Percy doesn't think he can be blamed for being unable to think. He doesn't understand how anyone exposed to the sight of Gwaine in that skirt and those fucking boots (amazing how the contrast between the skirt and the boots is so much hotter than something actually intended to match would have been) can keep their minds in line at all. Percy leans heavily against Gwaine, nipping at his jaw between kisses and tugging on the scruff of his beard.

"Christ," Gwaine says, his throat tense where his head is tipped back. "Put me down, c'mon, I wanna suck you off."

Percy moans, sucking at Gwaine's Adam's apple, his mind flooded with Gwaine on his knees, the skirt flaring out over his calves, his mouth stretched around Percy's cock.

"Wait. Wait," he says, the words taking effort. "No condom. You?"

"Ah, shit. No."

Percy lets his head drop, groaning.

"Sorry, Gwaine says. "This outfit doesn't exactly come with pockets."

"Later," Percy promises, nuzzling against Gwaine's cheek. "You're still coming home with me, right?"

Of course their luck can't hold, and before Gwaine can say anything, the door opens and two men enter the bathroom, talking noisily. Gwaine smiles wickedly and nods, squeezing his thighs around Percy's waist. Percy bites his lip and gives Gwaine a quelling look. It's utterly ineffective. Gwaine just makes a bigger production of hitching his hips into Percy's and biting his lip before letting his mouth drop open in pleasure. It gives Percy a glimpse, just for a split second of that wet, pink tongue and he remembers what Gwaine had wanted to do. Percy kisses him, maybe a little harder than he intended, because Gwaine gives a surprised little mmph before he presses back into the kiss, his mouth open and desperate.

There's a pause from outside, a quick chuckle, and Percy supposes he'd be a bit embarrassed if he wasn't totally occupied with kissing Gwaine. As the door shuts behind the other men, leaving them in relative silence again, Gwaine tells him, "That was a yes, by the way."

"Good," Percy tells him, the naked desire in Gwaine's eyes only fuelling his own. Taking Gwaine's weight more on his hips, Percy works a hand between them and presses it flat against Gwaine's dick. When he squeezes him through the material and uses it to pump his cock a few times, Gwaine just moans, clinging onto Percy.

"Gonna come if you keep that up," he warns.

"Mmm, mind the skirt, then," Percy warns him. "Want you to wear that while you ride me later."

Gwaine moans, loud in the little cubicle and Percy shushes him. He can't get the leverage he wants like this so he staggers back to lean against the wall and lets Gwaine slide down the length of his body. He's hot all over as he goes, the skirt riding up between them. He seems unsteady on his feet as he fumbles between them, yanking at Percy's jeans.

"Fuck, careful," Percy protests.

Gwaine moans, feverish, as he shoves his hand inside Percy's boxers and strains up to kiss him again. Gwaine makes this little whining noise into his mouth as he wraps his hand around Percy, feeling for the width of him.

"Jesus, man," Gwaine groans. Percy's known people to be put off by his size, but Gwaine's anything but. In fact he's shoving Percy's jeans down over his hips, just far enough to free his cock.

It takes them a moment or two of fumbling, and Percy has to try a couple of times before he gets Gwaine's pants down, freeing the hot bulk of his erection. Percy has to slouch down against the wall to let Gwaine in close enough but they find a position where they can stroke each other, exchange breathless kisses, and press tight against each other all at the same time. Gwaine has his free hand hooked around the back of Percy's neck, his fingers squeezing Percy in a delicious, constant rhythm.

The outside door opens again and Percy's breath in his throat sounds unspeakably loud, obvious. Gwaine looks up at him, a sly flash in his eyes as he spreads his legs just a little wider, rocking forward against him while the men outside talk. Percy acts on instinct, pushes his fingers against Gwaine's mouth to shush him. He should have known that was stupid, and he realises it a split second too late.

Gwaine's lush lips part, sucking two of Percy's fingertips inside. His mouth is like fucking paradise, hot and slick, the pressure of his suck incredible. His teeth graze over Percy's knuckles and Percy very deliberately slides his fingers deeper, touching the soft pillow of Gwaine's tongue. There's a slick, unmistakeably dirty noise as Percy pulls his fingers back out, and Gwaine deliberately lets his eyelashes flutter like he wants nothing more in the world than to stand here sucking on Percy's fingers. Percy's past caring about anyone else hearing anything, slams a kiss onto Gwaine's mouth and grunts against him as Gwaine twists his wrist, tightening his hold on Percy.

Gwaine strains against him, scratching the back of his hand on Percy's zip as he tries to get his hand far enough between them to roll Percy's bollocks between the fingers of his free hand. Percy curls his hand around Gwaine's hip and holds him tight in place, their knuckles bumping as they stroke. The air between them is hot and fevered, Gwaine's mouth burning as he sloppily tongue-fucks Percy's mouth.

Gwaine's thumb rubs over the slit in the head of Percy's cock, the edge of his nail digging in just a breathtaking fraction. It feels almost like a pinch, that hard press on the spongy head of his prick, and Percy shoves his hips forward, fucking the tight circle of Gwaine's fingers. Gwaine's free hand is all over him, squeezing Percy's bicep, running down his stomach to dip under his t-shirt, curving around to the small of his back.

Percy lowers his head, tracing his lips from Gwaine's cheekbone to his jaw, nudging him around into a kiss. Gwaine keeps working the length of Percy's cock, but wriggles his other hand between them to hike the front of his skirt out of the way. Given their plans for the skirt, Percy thinks that's as good a warning as he's going to get. Gwaine's breathe is hitching audibly, groans softening the edges of his bitten off words until Percy kisses him again. He pushes forward harder than he meant to, catches Gwaine off balance and sends them careening into the wall behind Gwaine again.

"Sorry, sorry," Percy says hurriedly, cradling the back of Gwaine's head where it connected with the wall. Gwaine just lunges forward and catches Percy in a kiss, sucking on his lower lip while he spills himself into Percy's hand. Still quaking, he slumps back against the wall, sagging down a little and pulling Percy forward, his intentions plain.

Percy's not man enough to refuse an offer like that, and he drives his hips forward again and again, grinding against Gwaine's sculpted abs until he comes, making a mess of Gwaine's skin but thankfully leaving the skirt unblemished. The long, pained moan must come from his own chest because Gwaine is too busy grinning up at the ceiling, looking triumphant. He yanks Percy into another wet, lazy kiss as he shudders through the aftershocks.

"Jesus," Percy mutters, a bit embarrassed at how utterly undone he is just from half a handjob and a bit of humping. He moves away from Gwaine quicker than he'd like because come stains on his black t-shirt will be a lot harder to deal with than the streaks on Gwaine's belly.

Percy grabs a handful of tissue, passes it to Gwaine and then wipes his own hands. They're still shaking just a little as he zips himself up again.

Gwaine wipes his stomach, giving Percy a mischievous look. "I bet none of the others will be able to guess what we've been up to."

Percy groans. "Is there a back exit here?"

"Don't be such a wuss. Just front it out," Gwaine says, tucking himself back into his pants.

"That's your life motto, right?" Percy asks, smoothing the skirt down over Gwaine's thighs. It looks very obviously rumpled.

"Right."

"Explains so much," Percy jokes.

"I just need one nice, steadying vodka, and then we can cut and run," Gwaine promises him.

Percy reaches past Gwaine to unlock the door, only pausing for a quick kiss. They have plans, after all.

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doing things you hate is just the price you pay to avoid loneliness

fic: Worth A Cheer (1/1)

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