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It had been several years since the death of Queenie Chandler. Once John had lived under her roof with Chas, the two teens finding comfort in each other while they lived there. Now they were older, not by much, but still older. Though not much had changed either— okay, yeah they were in a band (well, John was, Chas was their roadie), and yeah Queenie Chandler was now six-feet under so some stuff changed but that wasn’t the point. That night it was just them in the car, Chas deciding to go back to the town right outside London (that was the location of Queenie Chandler’s resting place) to visit his mother’s grave and John had volunteered to go with him. Chas’ relationship with his mother was… complicated. She was a coldhearted bitch that made his life a living nightmare but she was still his mother. Which was why John didn’t ask for his help in taking her out. Similarly, John’s relationship with his father wasn’t the best either, which was an understatement. The bastard wasn’t father-of-the-year, far from it.
When he was drunk he’d get violent, he just sat by himself and drank himself slowly closer and closer to death. When John was older and no longer pre-pubescent, struggling with his identity, hating his body and himself; hating his now pronounced chest, the softness of his body, the blood that was shed monthly, Thomas wasn’t much help either. There were times where he caught his father staring through the crack between the slightly opened adjacent bedroom door and its door frame while he was either changing or in some state of undress. It made his skin crawl, he’d have locked the door if it weren’t for the fact none of the doors in the house had locks. He’d always felt the urge to just snap and fight back, beat the man senseless… cut his dick and balls off and force-feed them to him, maybe. He wanted to but he couldn’t, he’d just prove the old man right. Thomas always referred to John as a murderer, blaming him for his mother’s death, and if there was one thing John Constantine wouldn’t do was prove his father right. Of course, as soon as he turned sixteen, he left for London.
He’d met Chas, one of the only people in his life who knew him before he came out and transitioned. He hadn’t actually transitioned by the time he lived in what was colloquially referred to as ‘Queenie’s Castle’. The insane old bat herself had known what he looked like while he was still desperately trying to be a girl and had known his old name. That’s all she’d ever got to know him as. The upside to this was that she didn’t treat him the same way she treated Chas. She had at least some amount of respect for him, despite how minimal it was. Queenie had been at least decent enough to have provided John with relatively cheap birth control, muttering rather cruelly about how she didn’t have time to worry about pregnant teenaged girls and babies. Which was nice… sort of. Not really. Regardless, Chas and John’s similar tortured pasts were something that drew them closer together. Chas with his mommy issues and John with his daddy issues. Though, John had never gone into detail about how awful his father was, giving his friend only vague half-truths so that he could get his point across without getting too deep and personal. God, he hated talking about his feelings. He’d avoid it at all costs if he could.
The car pulled up to the graveyard, the two young men stepping out. It was night, pitch-black almost, save for the distant glow of electric street lamps that lined the small unpopulated streets nearby. Obviously, they brought a flashlight with them… and beer. After looking around for a bit they finally found the gravestone they were looking for. The air between the two young men was strange, they were quieter than usual, drinking their beer in silence. Neither said anything, they’d had this conversation many many times. They were more than halfway finished with their drinks when Chas finally said something,
“What was your dad like?”
“Like your mum but a man. I’ve told you this already, mate,” John answered, shrugging, arms crossed, holding his beer and staring down at the rather large headstone with furrowed brows. The other sighed, rolling his eyes,
“Come on, there has to be more to it than that.” John really wanted to brush off the question, leave things still vague, it’d be better that way, he’d feel better that way. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was out of desperation for comfort, whatever it was John replied,
“My mum had already had Cheryl before me. When she had me, she was too weak and died after she gave birth to me and a stillborn twin brother. Apparently, the doctors said it had something to do with the previous abortions she was forced to have.”
“Forced?” Chas’ eyebrows were raised, calm despite the troubling subject matter.
“My old man forced her to have several abortions between the time she had Cheryl and her death. He blamed me. He told me I was the one who’d killed her almost every day of my life. He always sat on the sofa drinking himself blind, the only time he’d bother to move was to take a piss or to hit me. He was arrested for stealing some female neighbor’s pants at some point, went to prison for seven months. Then he was back. Cheryl moved out at some point. Then it was just me and him. I don’t know if it was worse that I was born his daughter instead of his son. Eventually, I got sick of it all and left, then I met you.” John quickly drank down the small amount of beer in his bottle, putting the glass down on the grass. His friend was a little short of words, he finished his beer too, putting his bottle on the grass too.
“Shit, Johnny,” Chas replied, a look of sympathetic understanding, reaching out and wrapping the other young man in a fierce hug. Which was surprising for John, he was never one to truly ever let his guard down with anyone and he’d never been good with emotions and feelings especially when it came to relationships. Frank affection always did floor him. It fucked with him in the worst ways. The way Chas looked at him with those sad eyes of pity, it disgusted him a little, the fact that this genuinely good man was wasting his time feeling bad for the worthless bastard he was. He tentatively wrapped his arms around Chas’ neck, his body trembled a little, nervous at the display. They pulled back, reluctantly, only a little; John staring up into Chas’ eyes, the two young men impulsively leaning in again, lips brushing against each other, barely touching. “God, you’re shaking,” Chas whispered, reaching up with one hand to tentatively caress his friend’s cheek. Finally, the two boys kissed passionately. The kiss deepened, tongues intertwined, desperate in a rushed attempt for comfort. Their bodies were pressed against each other, Chas’ hips twitching when he felt his friend’s thigh slot between his legs, rubbing against the tentative erection that was building from the intense passionate kissing. He pushed back, pushing John backwards, the blond’s back to the gravemarker, John's calves bumping up against the large stone edifice. They broke away finally, breathless, panting, excited. John laughed,
“You’re hard,” he observed, grinning. Chas rolled his eyes at him, putting his hands on John’s hips. One hand snuck down to grab and knead at his friend’s ass. Chas sighed, shaking his head as he brushed his lips against the other boy’s neck, musing (mainly to himself),
“Christ, part of me’s just expecting my mum or that bleeding monkey to crawl out of the shadows,” he said nervously. “Every time I’d take a girl home that goddamn thing would find a way to ruin it.” John sighed at the feeling of the slightly older boy’s soft lips and warm breath brushing up against the column of his neck, tilting his head back to give him better access to the rest of the pale expanse of skin.
“How far’ve you gotten before?” He asked him, pulling him closer, pressing his own body up against his friend’s.
“Not far. I was fortunate to have maybe one blowie uninterrupted.” John smirked,
“Well, now that ape and your mum have shuffled off this mortal coil, you could fix that.”
“You mean sex… with you?” Chas sounded either surprised and/or hesitant at the concept. Not that John would blame him, they were in a graveyard and Chas hadn’t necessarily disclosed that he was attracted to men. Well, they both did just kiss so it was safe to assume that he was at least interested in John at least. Though assuming things rarely proved as a viable way to clock someone’s intentions, especially when it came to one’s intentions during sex.
“Mhm,” he purred. “We could do it now if you’d like. We don’t have to, I’m not the one who’d be losing my virginity here, it’s up to you.”
“Fuck, I want you— I want you right now,” Chas replied, seeming rather flustered by the idea. They kissed again, bodies grinding against each other. John sank to his knees, looking up at his friend with a smirk and hooded dilated eyes, undoing the first button, then unzipping the fly of the older boy’s jeans, pulling his fairly erect cock out, pausing for a moment to look at the thing in his hand. He couldn’t help staring at it,
“Jesus Christ,” John muttered. Chas glanced down,
“What?” The blond grinned, jerking off his friend while maintaining eye contact, eliciting a small moan from the other.
“You’re so big,” he replied, licking the head of the older boy’s cock, tentative at first before delving further down, licking the underside of his length, wasting little time taking the whole thing inside his mouth, sucking and swallowing on it, hollowing his cheeks, moaning against the flesh when Chas threaded his fingers through John’s hair, gripping it tightly as the blond bobbed up and down, choking only a little. It was sort of ironic, how despite being two years his senior, Chas was the less experienced one of the two. It’d always been like that, even when they first met and lived together in that godforsaken house with Queenie and Slag. Though at that point John was about sixteen and Chas was maybe eighteen; which in retrospect, was probably really concerning that the sixteen-year-old had been with plenty of men and women prior to meeting the other. They’d never done anything of this nature together, not until now at least. They’d come close, though. There were times in that house where they’d gotten a little too close, so close to caving and just fucking like rabbits, casting lingering glances at the other after they’d left the shower, half-naked and wrapped in a towel. Friendly touches that became a little too intimate to be considered innocent.
There’d been at least a handful of instances where the eldest had seen the other in various states of undress due to the utter lack of privacy the house provided. God, how he wanted to just hold the other boy in his arms, take him somewhere private, and get lost in touching him and exploring every inch of him, entering him and making him feel good, loved even. Chas, admittedly, had admired his friend’s body before the boy transitioned and after as well. Before, John was thin, petit, rugged, and androgynous, with long fine blond hair that was always styled messily. After he seemed infinitely more comfortable with his own body, the lack of discomfort made him much more attractive than he was pre-transition. The flat chest, facial hair (however minuscule), the adam’s apple, and that deeper rougher voice, it was as if he was always supposed to look like in the first place. He looked the way he was in truth. Chas could feel himself grow hotter and hotter, it was too much and not enough all at once.
“Fuck, Johnny,” he hissed, fingers tightening on the other boy’s hair. John pulled back, albeit reluctantly, precome and spit glistening on his soft kiss-swollen lips. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, tucking the other boy’s cock back in before standing up, the eldest of the two expecting for his friend to stand up all the way to face him, only for John to bend over Queenie’s grave, supporting his weight on his elbows on the flat curve of the stone edifice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’d do a lot of things for you, Chas, but I’m not stripping naked in a graveyard at night in the middle of November,” John told him. “It’s easier this way.” Chas looked at the way John arched his back so perfectly, his ass looking rather enticing from that angle. He groaned at the sight, grabbing the other by the waist, pulling his body flush with his pelvis, rocking his hips forwards to create friction between his friend’s clothed behind and his clothed erection.
“So, how’re we doing this?” He asked him, still mostly aware enough to ask questions. John scoffed,
“Be specific, mate,” he goaded his friend, smirking at the way Chas rolled his eyes at him, exasperated yet not enough to be mad.
“Where do I put it?” His hands kneaded the other’s clothed backside, appreciating how tight John’s jeans were, how well they defined his ass. John looked so goddamn good bent over his mother’s grave, it felt so wrong that they were doing this but it felt so fitting, so typical of them.
“The front one,” John answered, groaning and whining, needy and excited. “Hurry up, will you?” Chas laughed fondly, grunting as he fiddled with the other’s jeans fly and buttons.
“This is torture,” he groaned. “Your jeans are so fucking tight. I hate them,” harshly smacking his friend’s ass with his hand, making the boy let out a small yelp and jump a little at the contact. John let out a breath,
“You don’t hate my jeans, mate,” he replied smugly, grinding his ass against Chas’ erection. “Don’t lie to yourself.” Chas scoffed, sighing in what was probably relief when he was able to finally unzip and pull down John’s jeans. His eyes drifted down to his friend’s underwear, the garment covering little skin, exposing most of his ass. He pulled down the pair of what were basically women’s knickers, gazing upon the other boy’s now naked lower-half
“Christ,” he said, looking down at the blond’s bare legs and what lay between, admiring how wet his friend was. John had made quite the mess, his lower half was basically drooling, the wetness clung to his outer folds and inner thighs, the slickness shining in the moonlight, obscene, almost like the sight before could be something seen only in fiction. “Care to tell me why you’ve got these on? They barely cover anything.”
“The jeans look better on me when it looks like I’ve got nothing on underneath,” John shrugged, looking at Chas expectantly, who sighed, laughing a little.
“Please tell me you’ve got condoms.”
“I don’t, in fact,” Chas looked at him with slight disappointment. “Relax, I’m on the pill. Just put it in already, alright?” His friend complied, tentatively taking himself in hand and pushing his cock inside the blond’s cunt. The two boys moaned almost in unison. They started off slow and steady, both young men trying to give each other time to adjust but both were just too excited to take things slow. The rhythm became faster and harder, John pinned down by Chas’ weight as he leaned over on top of him to suck deep marks into the skin of the other’s neck that would probably end up staying as purpling-green bruises, groaning at the tight scorching wetness that enveloped his cock. This was so fucked up, both of them knew that. It was impulsive, dumb, all kinds of twisted but God, did it feel right like they wouldn’t have it any other way. The rational part of Chas’ brain recognized that losing his virginity by bending his mother’s murderer over her grave and fucking him was… absolutely mad. That had got to be one of the stupidest, most insane things he’d ever done. In that moment it felt like nothing could top that level of insanity. The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin were overwhelmingly hot and obscene, the two young men losing themselves in the pleasure. John let out a loud yelp, hand slapping over his mouth, albeit a little too late, to quiet his moans and cries.
“Fuck,” the other groaned. “Am I doing good?” John laughed, shaking his head, mewling after being unable to suppress the sound that was about to come out of his mouth.
“Mm, you’re awfully skilled for a virgin— oh, fuck.”
“Christ,” he cursed, hips stuttering at the broken needy sounds he was forcing out of the boy beneath him. “Listen to you, moaning for it like a slut.”
“Not wrong there, I am a slut. ‘Could let you fuck me all day and night with that cock of yours.”
“You seem to like my cock quite a lot.”
“It’s so big,” John said, gasping between breaths, eyes threatening to roll back into his head as he tried to angle his hips for his friend’s erection to have better access to that special small gathering of sensitive nerves. “I can’t believe that no woman has let you shag them.”
“You let me."
“Yeah, because I know you and I know that I’m better than any of those boring women you’d meet in town.”
“And you’re not even a woman,” Chas mused.
“That too.” The dark-haired boy leaned over again, kissing up and down his friend’s neck and jaw, the grip on the blond’s hips tightening as he continued ruthlessly thrusting in and out of his body.
“Definitely a slut, though.” John let out a bark of laughter, leaning his head back to kiss Chas on the lips, moaning into the kiss before muttering against the older boy’s lips,
“Always have been, always will be. ‘Specially for you.” Their rushed and reckless lovemaking continued, both of them bathing in the absolute ecstasy that was flooding through their bodies in the moment.
“God, what would my mum say?” Chas groaned, still in disbelief that this was actually happening.
“Well, she wouldn’t be too chuffed to know her son’s got another boy bent over her grave and screwing his brains out. It’s what she deserves though.”
“She deserves worse,” he told him softly, angry and sad, remembering the shit she put him through.
“Agreed,” he replied breathlessly. “Oh, fuck— that’s it, right there.”
“Fuck, Johnny,” Chas groaned at the feeling of the other man’s body, contracting around him. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Am I now?” John basically purred, arching his back and angling his hips in another attempt to get his friend’s cock to hit that specific spot inside him. He moaned again, not really bothering to quiet himself. Part of him felt a sense of smug satisfaction knowing that he was Chas’ first. No matter what happened between them, where they went, if they parted ways, he’d have left a lasting mark on his life. Chas gripped him by the hair, pulling on it, John’s mouth falling open as a wrecked mewl was ripped out of him.
“Can I touch you?”
“You’re already touching me, Handsome.” Chas grunted, hand on John’s hip squeezing the skin, thrusting particularly hard into his friend’s body.
“Don’t fucking tease me. You know what I mean,” he nipped roughly at John’s neck, growling, letting go of the blond’s hair to grip John’s hips tightly, thrusting forward, jostling him, overwhelmed how tight and wet he was, feeling high as he drank in the moans and cries of his friend. John bit his lip, attempting to stifle the lewd noises that formed on his lips,
“Later, mate.” Ever since he first met him, John always wondered what Chas would be like in bed. Hell, he’d wanted Chas the moment he met him. And now here they were, actually having sex. Both of them were lost in the sheer intimacy, the desperation, and delicious sense of forbidden pleasure. John found himself unable to focus on anything save for the electric sensations from getting absolutely fucked. His friend’s cock hit him in places not many had been able to reach, practically pounding into that especially sensitive part inside of him, bringing him closer and closer to the brink of climax. It was almost too much for him, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Christ,” Chas cursed, also coming closer to his own orgasm. “You feel so good, so fucking good.” They continued their frantic lovemaking, not saying much to the other sans the occasional curse or quick comment on how good it all was. “John,” he called out, breathing heavily, his voice slurring a little from exertion and the high of pleasure. “I wanna come in you, please—”
“Fuck yes!” The blond basically screamed, lowering his voice a little afterwards. “Do it, give it to me, I want it so fucking bad.” John came with what could only be described as a yowl as his walls clenched against Chas’ length, his orgasm leaving him a dazed whimpering mess. Letting out a particularly lewd and pornographic mewl as Chas finally finished too, coming inside him with a grunt. He squirmed at the feeling of his friend’s come flooding his hole, trying to regain control of his breath while still out of sync from the mind-blowing orgasm he just had. Chas pulled out, tucking his softening cock back into his trousers and underwear, then taking the time to appreciate the sight of some of his seed lazily dribbling out of John’s body, his hands kneading the blond’s asscheeks, spreading them apart to get a better look at the dripping mess he’d made out of his friend’s hole. John piped up, talking to him, smug and knowingly, “enjoying the view back there?” Chas had half a mind to feel flustered by the remark,
“It’s one hell of a view,” he offered in return. John stood up straight, pulling up his underwear and then jeans as if he didn’t have a whole load of semen inside him, smirking at the hot red face his friend made at the gross yet absolutely fucking sexy sight it was. He wiped some of the white fluid that had gotten on his fingers off on the grey headstone of Queenie Chandler, quickly kissing Chas on the lips before taking his hand in his.
“Let’s head back,” he said. “The others are probably waiting for us.” Chas sighed, tired,
“Yeah, probably.” They got to the car, the two getting in and sitting in the front two seats. They hit the road, heading back to the hotel they were all staying at for the meantime. Before they exited the car, John stopped him, turning to face him, placing a hand on his friend’s chest,
“You can stay the night in my room if you want,” he offered, honest to god feeling a little timid in the moment. Then he added with a wicked little smirk, “We can continue where we left off.”
“I’d like that,” Chas answered, grinning nervously. The two made it into the hotel, checking in with the others and then heading up to the hotel room John was staying in. John groaned, stripping down until he was completely nude, lying down on the bed, moaning quietly when some of his friend’s come oozed out of him, glancing down at it and shifting in his ‘seat’. He sighed, laughing a little,
“Look at me. You made such a mess,” he purred, looking at Chas with hooded blue eyes and a smirk. Chas scoffed, joining John on the bed, grinning a little,
“You want help with that?” John grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him in closer, helping Chas take off his shirt, running a hand across the fairly impressive toned body that his friend had.
“If you’d like to,” which was all he needed to hear. Chas worked on unbuckling and removing his trousers. They kissed again, lips locking passionately. Chas crawled in between John’s legs, pressing kisses to the insides of the boy’s thigh, slowly making his way from his friend’s knee to his inner thigh, not unaware of how sensitive John’s inner thighs were, appreciating the way his friend moaned and squirmed against his mouth. It didn’t take long for Chas to cave into the desire of eating the other out, licking up his come from earlier that night (maybe cringing a little at the taste), cleaning his friend’s insides with his tongue. John’s response to the stimulation was gorgeous, mouth slack and open, face contorting into expressions of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering, chest heaving, and his voice— Jesus Christ his voice, the way he cried and whined at the toe-curling sensations. “Bloody hell,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. “That’s so fucking hot.” God, The very sight and sound of John made Chas so undeniably turned on. Chas pulled himself away from the other’s wet glistening hole, kissing John on the lips, making him taste the come that was in him and his own juices. He wrapped his arms around the older boy’s neck, pulling him in closer, nipping at the skin on the boy’s neck.
“Christ, Johnny,” Chas breathed, grinding against the bed, groaning. John mouthed against his ear, telling him with a smirk,
“We can go again. No need to rush ourselves now that we’re away from onlookers,” he purred, grinning, staring up at Chas with those absolutely sinful hooded eyes clouded with desire, his lips, red and kiss-swollen, were upturned in such a smug yet gorgeous way as he bit his lip, his face was flushed, all of it painting an absolutely attractive irresistible view. Chas felt the undeniable urge to explore and find how many different noises he could coax out of John, now that he was facing him. He kissed John fiercely, moaning a little into the kiss, putting his tongue in his friend’s mouth. They parted lips for only a moment, John laughed breathlessly, “I’ll take that response as a yes.” Chas pulled back, hooking his friend’s legs by the knees and helping him wrap those long gorgeous legs around his waist. He eased himself back in again, slowly but surely building up a steady rhythm, hands pulling the blond by the hips to move him on and off his cock. He was absolutely bewitched by the faces the other boy made. Before in the graveyard, Chas was only able to hear him, but seeing the way John looked while getting absolutely fucked was something completely different, intimate, special even. The two boys sped things up, John doing absolutely nothing to quiet his moans. Hell, the others in the adjacent rooms could probably hear them… as well as any unlucky strangers in other nearby rooms. He let out another string of loud moans and curses, “Fucking hell— yes! Fuck me, fuck me harder!”
“God, you moan like a bloody whore,” Chas couldn’t help but groan out, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin was overwhelming. He pressed his lip against the column of John’s neck, sucking and biting at as much skin as he could. Part of him wanted to find something to do to keep his own voice down, the other part was curious as to how John Constantine would look with his neck marked up. Their bodies came closer and closer to orgasm, what with the way the eldest’s hips stuttered erratically and John’s body clenched around him like a vice. They came, almost simultaneously. John was overwhelmed by the intense toe-curling waves of pleasure, an overstimulated moan slipping past his lips as he felt Chas come inside him yet again, for the second time that night. Both young men stayed like that, catching their breaths as they came down from the high of their orgasms. Chas kissed John on the lips quickly, opting to pepper similar kisses to his neck and jaw. He reluctantly pulled out, yawning a little, as he flopped onto the mattress on his back beside John, reaching out and touching the blond’s absolutely gorgeous face with his hand.
“So I assume it was good, yeah?” John mumbled, a sleepy grin on his face, also tired now that hormones weren’t raging through his body and making him unbearably horny.
“More than good,” Chas replied with a grin. “You were amazing.” John laughed, curling up against the young man’s side, allowing Chas to wrap an arm around him as he placed his own hand on his friend’s chest. He gave him a smug goofy grin,
“Aw, you’re making me blush,” he teased. “You’re also not so bad yourself for a bloke who was up until very recently a virgin.” His friend scoffed, rolling his eyes,
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a long pause. “Do you think the others’ll figure it out?” The blond snorted,
“What that you and I went to your mum’s grave, then came back to my room where you then buggered me stupid?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Maybe,” John shrugged rather nonchalantly. “They’re not brainless twits, they’ll probably figure it out. ‘Sides, it’s not like we were exactly subtle about it.”
“Yeah, because you were wailing like a cat in heat.” John let out a bark of laughter, rolling his eyes, leaning in, his face mere inches away from the other's,
“And whose bright idea was it to fuck my neck up with hickeys that’ll last, like, a week?” He asked with a wicked almost salacious smirk, pressing his lips to Chas’ in a sloppy, gentle, and surprisingly tender kiss. “I mean look at me, I have no fucking clue how I’m going to cover up any of this.”
“We should probably get to sleep,” Chas mumbled against John’s lips, kissing him back.
“Point taken, you have to drive tomorrow.” They settled down, eventually going to sleep. This new turn in their relationship continued, the two basically ending up together, though in an unspoken agreement. And they stayed together for most of it, that is, until the Newcastle Incident.