Moments like this
Heath Ledger/Jake Gyllenhaal
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Heath rolls over and grumbles into the pillow when Jake's phone rings at some ungodly hour. Jake mumbles an apology and almost knocks the alarm clock off trying to get to it.
The ring tone is some obnoxious, perky pop song. It stops as Jake stands, pulling most of the sheets off of Heath's body. He groans, sits up, watches Jake blearily for a moment as he wanders naked through the room, and yanks the sheets back over his waist. Even mid-summer in Calgary is chilly compared to LA.
He's not paying attention, not really, but eavesdropping is kind of hard to avoid in a tiny, shitty hotel room. Heath hears "Mags," and "Peter," and lots of "No shits," and "Fuck you, toos." Typical Jake. Typical all of them.
"hrng." It's all Heath can manage. It's too fucking early. It's been a very long, very busy week, with Ang over their shoulders. Not that Heath hasn't enjoyed every bit of it, but still. Michelle went home Wednesday with a mock-warning to Jake—"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Jake had laughed, draped his arm over Heath's shoulders, and laughed in reply.
"Why, Michelle," he said in Jack's drawl. "I had no idea you were so kinky."
Damn it. Now he's getting a hard-on. Heath sits up, and glares at Jake's naked ass as he gesticulates at the bathroom mirror, still talking to Mags or Peter, or hell, maybe it's Kristen. It would be just like Jake to take a phone call from his on-again, off-again girl after yet another drunken fling with his co-star.
Heath thinks that at least Michelle approves. Or if she doesn't, she enjoys the thought. Too bad they never got a chance to get Jake in bed together. Might have been fun.
Jake catches a glimpse of Heath's glare and flips him a bird through the mirror, which Heath returns. Jake grins widely, turns, and leans against the counter, groping his crotch and waving his cock obscenely. Heath rolls his eyes. He's such an ass.
Getting out of the bed takes too much effort. Heath groans and flips the curtain open briefly, glancing at the chill grey pre-dawn sky. Where the fuck is who-the-fuck calling from anyway? Way too early or not, he's still awake, and he needs to get in the shower now if Jake isn't going to use all the hot water.
Heath grumbles and brushes past Jake, ignoring the faces he makes, and rinses out his mouth at the sink. Beer. How much did they drink last night, anyway? Enough that his mouth tastes like shit. He looks up at Jake through the mirror. Jake looks too amused and not at all sympathetic. Heath flips him off and doesn't even bother waiting for the witty reply; the shower is calling.
Hot, hot, blessed hot water. Heath closes his eyes and lets the stream wash away some of the pollution from his pores. He moans in pleasure, letting some into his mouth and spitting again. God. It wasn't just beer, then. Beer and whiskey? That would explain why he's so messed up.
He scrubs his fingers over his scalp before reaching for the shampoo. Jake makes fun of his Lush habit, but Heath ignores him on that, like he ignores him for so many other things. The shampoo is good and convenient. He rubs the mint-scented bar on his scalp and groans happily. Yeah, that's going to go a long way to making him feel human again.
There's a blast of cold air and suddenly, Jake's in the tub with him. Heath groans again, this time slightly annoyed. "Who the fuck calls you at this hour? Or did you plan it just to piss me off?"
As usual, Jake ignores his question, putting his hands on Heath's hips, pulling him back against his crotch (and Jake's half-hard, too) and his chin on Heath's shoulder. Jake wrinkles his nose. "You're using that smelly stuff Michelle got you, aren't you?"
"This from the man who spends half an hour primping in front of the mirror." Heath ignores Jake's subtle invitation and leans forward to rinse his head.
"Yeah, but my stuff doesn't stink." Heath doesn't bother replying to that, because it's too goddamned easy. He settles for twisting and giving Jake a quelling look.
Which, of course, doesn't work. Jake is grinning and pressing his thumbs into the top of Heath's ass, fingers spread over his hips, massaging slightly. It feels pretty good, but no way in hell is Heath going to admit that out loud. "Did you want something, Gyllenhaal?" comes out instead.
Jake smirks and grinds his rapidly hardening cock against Heath's crack. "Nah. I was thinking about jerking off all by myself."
And that thought is enough to send a zing of lust straight to Heath's dick. Jake chuckles; apparently Heath tensed or something. "I'm all for company, though." Jake doesn't really wait for permission, not that Heath was going to say no at this point; he reaches around, one hand on Heath's balls and the other sliding up his cock.
Of course it feels good. Jake's had years to perfect the technique, right? Heath has watched him, before, and it's the same when he's jacking himself off. Jake's hand is just tight enough, just rough enough, and Heath gets fully hard and dizzy in one short minute.
He leans forward, the white tile of the wall smooth and cool against his forehead and palms. Jake follows, bending over and pressing himself against Heath's back. His breath is hot in Heath's ear, even against the steam of the water. It slides against his wet neck, sending shivers of sensation down Heath's spine.
"God," is what he means to say. It comes out more like "Gargh," and Jake laughs, low and sexy.
"Fuck you, Gyllenhaal." At least that's clearer. Heath chuckles; practice makes perfect, after all, and he's been saying that every day since they started this movie.
"No thanks," and it's great, because Jake's hand is moving faster and he's squeezing Heath's balls just the right way. Heath groans as Jake bites his neck, almost hard to bruise.
Fuck. There's no doubt that he wants this, wants to come, not when he's fucking Jake's hand, arching against Jake's body. And then Jake twists his hand just so and Heath comes, biting his lip.
Heath comes down, a stupid grin on his face, as the water washes his softening cock and belly, where Jake wiped his hand, clean. He schools his expression before turning to look at Jake's smug smile.
"Good enough for you, Ledger?" Heath rolls his eyes and grabs Jake's face, slamming their lips together, biting lips and hard teeth.
Heath manages to get his tongue behind Jake's teeth, wrestling with Jake's tongue. Neither of them has brushed their teeth, and it's sour and hungover-tasting, but damn if the sound Jake makes, low and needy isn't worth it. His hands move to curl around Heath's neck, pulling him closer.
Heath continues to invade Jake's mouth, fucking it with his tongue, as he gropes around before finding Jake's cock. Jake whimpers at the touch and Heath swallows the sound.
His thumb presses against the head, spreading precome around, adding the slick to the water. Jake moans a semi-coherent plea into Heath's lips, and Heath pulls back to hear Jake beg, because that would totally be worth it.
But Jake's got a shit-eating grin on his face and he pushes down on Heath's shoulders, not lightly enough.
"No." It's not really a protest, and Jake can tell.
"Come on, Ledger. You're so good at it."
"Fuck you." Seriously fuck him. Heath's got a weakness for flattery. And who knows when the two of them are going to have time together again.
"I told you, not this time." And Jake's smirking as Heath sighs and squats. What the hell. Next time, he'll make Jake get on his knees.
Heath avoids finesse; he's not in the mood, and his skin is getting pruney from all the water. Every dirty trick he knows—tongue, teeth, sound, sucking—he uses. Jake's beating his hands against the wall, cursing up a storm while Heath breathes in the smell of him.
It's not quite pushing Jake over the edge, so Heath presses his thighs apart with his hands, moving his finger over the perineum, circling his hole. The tip of his finger slips in, and Heath sucks hard, and that's all she wrote.
Jake trembles as he comes, sour in Heath's mouth. Heath doesn't bother swallowing; he's done. He spits and stands, legs shaking just the tiniest bit and examines Jake's face.
His eyes are closed and the sappy smirk is back. Heath grins at the sight and pats Jake's cheek. "Good enough for you?"
The blue eyes pop open and somehow, Jake's grin gets wider. "Yeah. That worked well."
Heath laughs and pulls the shower curtain back. "Feel free to use the stinky stuff. I'm out of here." He doesn't turn around, just gets out and wraps a towel around his waist.
As Heath leaves the bathroom, he listens as Jake starts complaining. "Hey, where the fuck did all the hot water go?"