Chapter Text
Shawn leads Joey into the trees the next morning. He doesn’t chase him this time, doesn’t have a knife, doesn’t tell him to run. He simply tells Joey to get on his knees. Joey obeys, sinks to his knees in the dirt, looks up at Shawn expectantly. They’re completely surrounded by trees, he hears birds whistling distantly. It’s a nice, peaceful morning.
Shawn unbuttons his worn jeans, pulls out his thick cock. Then he’s pissing on Joey, aiming for the middle of his t-shirt to get maximum coverage. Joey squirms on his knees, pushes his hair over his shoulders so it’s out of the splash zone. It’s wet and warm, seeps into his clothes, drips and puddles on the ground beneath him. It feels good. Feels good to be on his knees, feels good to be pissed on, feels good to be in such a degrading position under someone he trusts so much.
The stream slowly trickles to a stop after a minute, leaving Joey thoroughly soaked and almost painfully hard. He feels a flicker of disappointment that it’s over so soon, almost wants to ask Shawn to chug some water so he can piss another round. The birds are still whistling in the distance, but Joey barely hears them over his own heavy breathing. He nuzzles his cheek against Shawn's thigh, licks over the base of his cock, sucks at his balls until there's spit dripping down his chin.
“Filthy slut,” Shawn chuckles, and then he's pulling Joey away by his hair. He pushes his thumb between Joey's lips, hooks it behind Joey's teeth to keep his mouth wide open. His other hand is still gripping Joey's hair.
“Tongue out.”
Joey obediently sticks out his tongue. Shawn spits directly in Joey's mouth, watches it mix with the steady stream of drool dripping down Joey's chin.
“You want my cock in your mouth?”
Joey nods.
“Beg for it, cocksucker.”
“Please let me suck your cock,” Joey begs, his words garbled around the thumb still hooked behind his teeth. He feels the flush rising on his cheeks. He can’t help it. He's on his knees, soaked in piss, begging for a dick in his mouth. And Shawn’s looking down at him like he fucking owns him. Joey can’t deny that it’s true, can’t deny the spike of heat in his gut at the thought of being owned. He gives Shawn his best and most pathetic puppy dog eyes, makes his voice as desperate as possible when he starts begging again.
Shawn rubs his cock over Joey’s tongue, spits in his mouth again, waits to see if he’s going to move before he’s told. Joey licks at the underside of Shawn’s cock teasingly, but doesn’t move otherwise, just stares up at Shawn and waits for permission.
“Go ahead,” Shawn says. “Show me how bad you want it.”
Joey laps at the head before closing his lips around it, moans as Shawn’s cock fills his mouth. Shawn lets him at it for a few moments, watches his head bob. It’s a nice sight, but he wants more, wants to see Joey’s eyes water as he gags and chokes. The fingers still tangled in Joey’s hair grip tighter, he forces Joey all the way down, pulls him back, forces him down, pulls him back. Again and again. Slowly at first, not too rough. A nice gentle face fuck to get warmed up.
Joey takes it, swallows so he doesn’t gag as Shawn fills his throat, and that just won’t do. Shawn wants him to gag, wants him to choke, wants to see him fucking cry. Shawn twists his fingers in Joey’s hair, hard enough that he knows he’d be complaining if his mouth wasn’t full. Joey manages a muffled and vaguely annoyed grunt in lieu of any words, but the sound is lost as Shawn starts to fuck his throat for real.
Joey gags hard and his eyes water so much a few tears spill over, but he doesn’t struggle, fights the instinct telling him that he needs to get away so he can breathe. It’s more than worth it to hear the way Shawn moans above him, to feel the grip in his hair go shaky, to know that he’s making Shawn feel good. He gags again and the tears are streaming freely now.
“That’s it,” Shawn groans. “Fucking take it.”
The wet sound of his throat around Shawn’s cock would be kinda gross if he wasn’t so turned on, if he wasn’t enjoying being used so much. Like he’s just some wet and warm hole for Shawn to fuck, covered in spit and piss and tears. His jaw is still a little sore from yesterday, but that just adds to the experience.
Shawn’s movements get more and more erratic and Joey knows he must be close. He’s groaning a steady stream of filth, calling Joey a slut and a whore and a dirty fucking cocksucker as he uses his throat like a fleshlight. Joey would get a hand down his pants, if he wasn’t so dizzy he can’t tell up from down, if he wasn’t so preoccupied trying to breathe through the snot and tears to get air to his burning lungs. But that can wait until later, when Shawn’s done using him.
Shawn yanks Joey away at the last second, tilts Joey’s head back, gets in about half a dozen strokes before he’s coming all over Joey’s face and adding to the mess of tears and spit and snot. If he wasn’t an absolute mess before, he definitely is now. Shawn wishes he had a camera to capture the moment, wants to carry the photo in his wallet, stick a copy to his fridge.
Joey’s still staring up at Shawn like he’d do anything he asked, and Shawn wants to fucking wreck him, one more time before they call it a weekend and go home. He untangles his fingers from Joey’s hair, smooths over the strands that are sticking up.
“You wanna come?”
Joey nods.
“Go on,” Shawn prompts. “Jerk off, let me see.”
Joey gets a hand down his pants, peels the wet fabric from his skin to get his dick out. He’s unsurprisingly hard and leaking. It doesn’t take much to have him squirming on his knees, fucking into his fist as Shawn silently watches. He knows he must look like a mess, feels it all over his skin, knows Shawn must be enjoying the view. He closes his eyes, jerks off a little faster. That’s when Shawn starts talking again.
“You’re a mess, y’know that?” Shawn says from above him. “You’re disgusting, getting off on being used like a bitch, covered in piss. It’s fucking pathetic.” Joey jerks off a little faster, replays Shawn's words in his head.
He’s disgusting. Pathetic. Whore. Slut. Shawn’s bitch. He’s Shawn’s fucking bitch.
Shawn hooks his thumb behind Joey’s teeth again, forces his mouth open wide, spits. Joey’s coming over his fist and in the dirt before the spit even lands in his mouth. Shawn catches him when he slumps forward, exhausted from the brutal face fucking and intense orgasm.
He barely registers Shawn’s lips against his own a moment later, doesn’t comprehend whatever the fuck he says before he’s helping him to his feet. Shawn pulls a small towel seemingly out of nowhere and wipes Joey’s face with it. He’s still sticky and will be until he gets home and showers, but it’s always nice to be cleaned up and cared for at the end of a scene. Shawn kisses him again once he’s done fussing with the towel, and that’s nice too.
The walk back to the campsite is more than a little uncomfortable with Joey’s wet and cold clothes, but it was more than worth it he thinks. It’s a relatively short walk and Shawn holds his hand the whole time.
“You hungry?” Shawn asks when they get back. “I can make some grilled cheese before we pack up.”
“Yeah,” Joey answers. His voice is rough and raw and Shawn doesn’t even try to hide his amused smirk.
Shawn starts the fire and Joey gets changed, slips on Shawn’s hoodie over his clean t-shirt, chugs some water to soothe his sore throat. He sits next to Shawn when he’s done, rests his head on his shoulder and watches the food cook. The smell of the fire is comforting and Joey almost feels like he could fall asleep right here, almost wishes they could stay another day, or maybe forever.
Shawn does most of the packing up after they eat and Joey sleeps the whole way home, dreams about the next time they’ll be able to sneak away and be alone together for the weekend.