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"The door will be unlocked for you, John. Don't bother knocking, I'll be ready when you get here."
The words repeated over and over in Linnell's head as he got off the bus, with his bag strap crossed over his body, and his coat under his arm. Those words he heard over his wall phone in that sexy, nasally voice. He couldn't wait to hear it in person, the tiny vibrations in his voice made Linnell shiver and made his hair stand on end. When he left the bus, he tucked his hands away into his pocket and made his way down the street, eagerness shooting down his legs like electricity and sparking him, making him walk faster.
Linnell's heart bounded in his chest as he made his way up the stairs of the apartment block. The rhythm of his heart matched that of his feet - loud and hard; he could already feel the heat pooling inside him, and what felt like his anticipation dripping out of him. He'd never felt that before, his wetness literally coming out into his boxers... but it felt nice in a way. He didn't mind.
The sound of Linnell opening the unlocked door made Flans' ears spring up. He was perched on the corner of his bed, listening to the other John roaming around his home. He heard the bathroom door open and did his very best to stay silent. Flans' shorts became tighter at the idea of Linnell preparing for him by cleaning his hands... 'He wouldn't have to clean himself if I had him in the shower.' Flans thought to himself, which didn't make him any less hard.
Linnell was going to come into the bedroom at any moment now... Flans had been waiting for this for days, waiting to watch the smaller, weaker John writhe and struggle beneath him, and to tell him just the right thing to send a shockwave straight between his legs. How adorable.
However, just as Flansburgh listened to the imaginary sound of the other John's gasp, he heard a real one. Linnell's breath was snatched in his throat, the sound of which muffles by the walls of the bathroom and bedroom.
"John?" Called Flans, who quickly shifted from trying everything in his will not to touch himself, to only prioritising the comfort and safety of his boyfriend. "Is that you?"
Linnell ground his teeth as he tried to string together a sentence as fast as possible.
"Yeah.. sorry to spoil the surprise."
"No, no, don't be dumb..."
Flans stood up from his bed and approached thew bathroom door. "What's up? Are you alright?"
Linnell did not answer. Yanked his jeans back up, which were thankfully black.
"I'm coming in." Added Flans. Linnell panicked more as he could sense Flans' hand reaching for the door handle. Every drop of blood in his body frantically ran around in his veins burning with anxiety that heated his skin, especially in his face.
"NO!" He cried.
That two letter word was sharp, but had a small crack in it, allowing his anxiety to slip through a little.
"No.." Repeated JL a little more calmly. He began to fidget with his thumbs and fingers, and was sweating now. "D-don't come in.. you don't wanna see this."
"Why?" Asked Flans, now even more worried. What was he hiding? Was he hurt? Sick? Afraid? He had so many questions, and as he held them all inside, he raised an eyebrow at the door.
"I think it'll put you off.. We might need a change of plan.."
Linnell felt his stomach twist at the thought of disappointing Flans like this. He felt something deep in him break when he pictured Flansburgh being disgusted by him. He felt vile for even thinking of the possibility of Flans still wanting to take him on after this confession, which felt no different than owning up to murder.
"Why...?" Flans asked again, more softly.
"...I'm on my period."
Linnell may as well have been putting his fingers in his throat and making himself sick. He knew what was coming now. He could already hear the sound of Flans' once sweet, happy voice gagging in repulsion. Linnell's own voice was quivering as he scrambled to redeem himself. "I'm so sorry, please don't be mad, we don't have to have-"
"Hey! Woah!" Flans interrupted, but with good intentions. "Hold it, it's okay!"
"No it isn't.." Denied Linnell. "It's just gross, I can't put you through that.."
"But you can't help it." Flans reassured. "You didn't choose to start bleeding today. You probably didn't even know you were due. Plus, it's only blood."
"Only blood?" Linnell copied in a more surprised tone.
"Well, yeah.. we all have it, don't we?"
Flans was right. But Linnell was just confused.. was he doing this to be nice, or was he really this unbothered by blood literally spilling out from Linnell's vagina?
"I suppose.."
"Exactly!" Flans, truly, was too excited to care. Now he wanted Linnell however he could take him. He was fine with blood, as long as it wasn't present due to Linnell being hurt. "It's just another part of you."
"You're too sweet.." Complimented a reassured, happy Linnell.
Silence hung in the air for a few seconds before JF decided to break it up. "When you come out of there, can you bring a towel?"
"Sure, sure.." Answered Linnell, turning to the towel rack right away. He picked one up that was dark brown and left the bathroom with it in hand.
Flans smiled when the bathroom door finally opened. There he was.. a little dishevelled, as always, but so, so cute. He took the towel from Linnell's long, thin fingers, and took in all his pretty features: the bags under his eyes, his crooked teeth, the veins in his hands and small waves in his hair. He was so handsome, yet so dainty.. almost an easy fit in Flans' hands. He adored Linnell, but couldn't deny he wanted to do some ugly things to him, which he was just about to do.
"Now come with me.. you pretty thing."
Linnell was a big fan of 'pretty thing'. As he climbed into bed he was further excited by the feeling of being objectified, and his boyfriend was too familiar with that fact. Just as he was about to climb into bed, Flans raised his finger. "Oh- don't get in yet.."
Flans pulled the quilt up and set the towel down in its place. "That should do it." He said. Linnell smiled appreciatively and his cheeks became tinted pink. Not only was his boyfriend seemingly not grossed out at all, but he was catering to Linnell and trying to keep things fun despite his bleeding. He was so happy.. it was certainly a nice change to how others had responded previously.
"Thank you.." Linnell said with a smile as he crawled on top of the towel, crossing his legs as he sat himself down.
"Is that comfortable for you?"
"Yeah.. I like the texture of towels, actually."
"Wouldn't it feel better on your skin?" Asked Flans with a smile and a raised eyebrow. While he was speaking he was crawling on top of Linnell and slightly lifting his fingers to raise the hem of Linnell's sweater. With a nod of confirmation, Flans opened Linnell's flyers and pulled his jeans down.
"Oh, you poor thing..." Murmured Flansburgh as he discovered the red patch in Linnell's baby blue boxers. "Did you bring anything to help yourself with?" He asked with sympathy in his eyes.
"I think so.."
"Good.." Flans began to pull the boxers off Linnell, still remaining careful in his touch. Linnell looked down to watch this, and felt guilty again when he saw a string of thick, dark red blood connecting him to the fabric still. "Hey." Flans interrupted. The shame fell off Linnell's face as he looked up like a deer in headlights. The phrase 'Sorry, Master' sat in his mouth, but only the first half was comfortable enough to leave.
"Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be ashamed of." Before finishing his words, he leaned over to Linnell's ear and ran his hands up and down his now bare thighs.
"I think I should get to have you whenever I want, regardless of blood."
The smaller John quivered at those words. He was so, very right.. Linnell was happy to be always available.
"You're right.." Sighed Linnell, guiding his hand between his thighs. But before he could touch his core that bled onto the towel, the larger, much stronger John, swiftly picked up his wrist and moved it out of the way.
"No, no. That's for me to do. Nobody touches my property, not even you." Flans smirked with an almost wicked sense of delight, and Linnell snickered at the resurfacing of one of his biggest kinks. Flans laughed lowly with him, but cut Linnell off and made him gasp as he ran the back of his middle finger down his entrance. "I knew you'd be so sensitive like this."
"I am.. I always am, anyway.."
"I know. And I'm gonna make you cry." Promised Flansburgh, who set his thumb upon Linnell's clitoris, and rubbed it in slow, circular motions.
"M-mmh.." He whimpered. He tried to stay composed as best he could.
"Oh, come on," Flans scoffed. "You can be louder than that." He applied more pressure to the bundle of nerves in Linnell's centre, as well as picking his pace up.
"Ughh..~" Linnell moaned.
"Much better."
"Please.. Harder.." Linnell pleaded. Flans stopped rubbing him, and instead pressed the palm of his hand onto Linnell's clit, pushing more blood out of him as if he were a squishy bottle. "AHH-!" Linnell squeaked. "Oh.. ohh, it hurts!" This observation only made Flans push harder, putting the towel to work as it soaked up all the blood that spilled from John Linnell's pussy.
"But you love that, don't you? You whore."
"I do!" Mewled Linnell. "Hurt me~! Hurt me, Flansy~!"
Flans snatched his palm away to swat Linnell on the thigh. "How's that, huh? Does that feel good, pain slut?" He slapped him again.
"Yes! Yes It does~!" Flans kept firmly, almost maliciously, smacking Linnell's thighs. The skin began to sting and burn as it turned red, and Linnell couldn't get enough. Tears welled up in his eyes at the pain, as well as the pulsing in his bloody labia. It practically swelled as it squeezed out more blood, and his hungry insides gripped onto nothing. He gasped and groaned as Flans turned the side of his leg red-raw.
Flans stopped amidst Linnell's near-crying to push up his glasses. "Now hold still."
This was his only warning. His eyebrows furrowed as he lifted his left arm now, equally strong as his right that he used to hit Linnell and rub him off. He crossed his left pointer and middle fingers curl around one another before authoritatively marking his territory inside Linnell's vagina. He shoved the two digits into him almost forcefully, letting the blood coat his fingers, a little bit actually spurting out upon intrusion. Linnell was tight, hot and fragile. So much so that the force put upon his walls forced the tears out of his deep, brown eyes, which now struggled to stay open as he tried to adapt to the pain. (Which hurt so, so good.)
"AGHH~! Oh- oh my god~!!" Tears rolled down Linnell's cheeks and his pussy tightened around the other John, who's pants were incredibly tight now that they had to keep hold of his rock solid cock. "I can't take it~! I can't take it!!"
"Good!" Shouted Flans. "It doesn't even matter, because you're not finished until I say that you are!"
Flans continued to fuck Linnell's sensitive, messy cunt, but then he stopped. With the tips of his fingers as deep inside as they could go, he straightened them out, then crossed them over the other way, making sure to part his fingers as far as they could go as they twisted and curled inside him.
"OWHH~! AUH, AUGH-HH~" Rivers flowed out of Linnell's eyes as he screamed in pain and pleasure. "FURTHER! Please~!! S-stretch me out!!"
"I can't stretch you any further, you're too tight! It's good that you are, but you're a greedy little shit, y'know that?"
"I am!" Sobbed John Linnell.
Flans' boner was almost sore in its confines. He needed to get something out of Linnell for himself as soon as possible. He came up with an idea.. an idea that was downright cruel. But Linnell got a pathetic thrill out of Flans being cruel, and taking what he could out of his honest submission. Just like the good slave Linnell aspired to be. Flans initiated his plan right away, knowing he'd get his way through doing this.
"I'm so close~!! I'm gonna cum soon!"
Perfect.
Flans' smirk was almost foul. Without another word, he straightened out his digits and bent them. He curled them as far as possible, making Linnell shriek as if he were being killed. He could hardly breathe, his eye's couldn't open. His face was scrunched up and could not relax a single muscle in his body as Flans repeatedly pushed Linnell to his absolute limit. There were probably now two reasons for him to be bleeding. The blood oozed out of him, when finally, he hit his breaking point.
"MASTER!! MASTER~!"
Flans yanked his fingers away to allow Linnell to have his dark red orgasm. Blood spurted from his pussy, leaving splatters across the towel and his thighs, even a rare few landing on Flans' legs. Now sweating, bright red in two places, and with tear streaks beginning to dry on his face, he was done.. satisfied, despite his previous fear of being disgusting. He was finished.
...but John Flansburgh wasn't.
Quickly, while Linnell was mid-recovery and sitting in his own menstrual filth, Flans rushed to get out of bed. He stood up, raced out of his pants, and pulled his black boxers down, his dick finally jumping out, free, aching and ready.
"Turn over." He demanded.
"Huh..?" Asked Linnell, who did turn his head, but still had yet to get back into reality.
"Turn. Over." Flans commanded again. "Look at me."
Linnell obeyed, slightly turning over to look at Flans. He could barely see his face, and didn't even notice the elephant in the room, which was pointed straight at his mouth. Flans took off his glasses, dumping them on the desk next to him, then yanked a fistful of Linnell's hair and shoved his wide penis into his mouth, getting his share before Linnell thought he could just walk away free. Linnell was forced back into reality, lazily moving his head with the guidance of Flans' hand. His lips weren't even closed around his shaft. "You can do better than that!" Flans complained harshly.
JL's eyes squeezed shut as he put his very last ounce of energy into this blowjob. He didn't have anything left to offer other than a mouth and a puddle of blood, he was being picked up and played with like a sex doll and despite his energy debt, he was still excited for this to continue. He closed his mouth and pressed his tongue against the underside of his length. He could feel the outline of a vein on his taste buds. "That's it.." JF praised between heavy breaths. "Much better." Flans was biting the inside of his lip as he repeatedly thrusted deeper and deeper into Linnell's mouth.
Flans' already poor vision without glasses was beginning to worsen as he slowly sank into a blurry mental state. He closed his watery eyes but no tears came out, and he let himself pull Linnell's warm, wet mouth in the same motion as if he were a machine. Linnell was a machine to him now, a machine to stick his dick in when he felt like it. Flans groaned as his tip touched the back of the throat of the other John, who looked up at him with puppy-like eyes. He admired the sight of his boyfriend, no, his master, getting this much of a kick out of using him before he even got the chance ti catch a breath post-cum.
John Flansburgh began to pant to John Linnell. "I'm nearly there... and you're gonna swallow it.." That was a demand, not a request.
"Mm-hm." Mumbled Linnell in agreement with a full mouth, which was about to overflow. His final job for Flansburgh was to suck the head of his cock, as told by the redirection of his mouth.
"You know how I like it.." Flans stated factually. Linnell did know how Flans liked it, and served him his usual.
With his tongue cupping Flans' mushroom tip, and his lips only just covering the whole head, he suckled on it like a baby at a breast, and he softly hummed in satisfaction, allowing the vibrations to work Flans towards the end. These actions, despite only being gentle, made Flans accelerate towards his climax. "You're so good at this.." He groaned. "Aughh.. just a little longer.."
Linnell squeezed Flans' end between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, making his hands curl into fists in his soft brown hair. He suddenly forced his whole shaft right back into the back of Linnell's mouth, making him quietly gag.
Thick, white cum exploded from Flans' cock. It launched onto Linnell's tongue, splattered onto the inner walls of his cheeks, and coated his crooked teeth. "John- John!!" He called as he released himself, his shoulders slumping under his orgasm. "John..~" He sighed again.
Then, he gently removed Linnell's lips, which were only still joining the two men via a thin string of saliva. Linnell brought back his puppy eyes when he looked up at Flans, making a face as if to ask 'Did I do well?' Flans smirked at him when he managed to open his eyes again, giving him a reassuring 'Yes, you did.'
Normally, Flans would have promptly slumped over and fell into bed. But after watching a blurry John Linnell swallow his seed obediently, he flopped over to pull up his pants before hobbling through the doorway, his head spinning still. Linnell was confused as he was abruptly abandoned. What was he in such a rush for? And why did he need it so soon after cumming?
At least now he actually got to breathe. His half-open eyes and bleeding labia were able to observe the unintentional precision in what Flans had just done to him. He was literally shoving his hands into his blood and frantically twisting and turning and curling just to see what would happen, as if Linnell was being used in a science experiment.
But that was exactly how he liked to get handled. Like an object. A test subject. A vessel for Flans' curiosity.
Flans himself, in the meanwhile, was using his final fuel to wash his hands, ready to assist Linnell. He scrubbed his hands, particularly the two fingers coated with Linnell's dry blood, and watched it's mixture with the water flow down the sink. It had a metallic scent to it that would linger in Flans' nostrils later. He reached for the floor, and on the floor was Linnell's leather satchel bag he'd brought with him.
His weak hands and quivering fingers opened the leather bag up to find Linnell's aforementioned period products. He discovered a small, grey bag resembling a big coin purse. He carried the purse back to the bedroom in one hand, with a pack of wet wipes in the other that he already had himself.
"..is that my pad purse?" Asked Linnell when he saw Flans walk in with the bag.
"Is that what you call it?" Laughed Flans tiredly. "That's cute.. can you please open your legs back up?" Linnell complied, his weak, jelly-like legs and his face reddened.
"You don't have to do this, y'know.." he insisted as Flans opened up the wipes and pressed one onto a red trail on Linnell's inner thigh, which curled around the curve of the back of his thigh.
"But I should," Persuaded JF. "I made the mess, so I should clean it."
"I suppose.." JL sighed with a grin.
But abruptly, he groaned softly. Not at the contact of the wipe, not in disgust, but partly in pleasure. "E-eurgh..~" He moaned, giving life to a thick clot of blood. He suffered as it gave way, and the sensation of the slimey ball crawling out of him, lubricated and gentle, out of his control, was strangely arousing. Flans quickly wiped the clot away, treating both it and Linnell as if they were the most fragile things in the world. Then he folded the wipe back up the other way, continuing to clean Linnell's sensitive petals.
"Did that hurt?" Asked JF with sympathy all over his face.
"No.."
Flans opened Linnell's grey bag, which was almost the size of his hand. Inside it sat a few sanitary towels and a rolled up pair of black briefs. He opened a pad up as Linnell spoke. "Are you sure you don't want me to do this..?" He asked with embarrassment. "I don't want you to feel like you're changing a baby.."
"But I don't feel like that." Flans was blunt. "I'm just keeping you clean... For your next use." He said the second half of the sentence hoping he said it right.. correctly catering to Linnell's preferences. He was relieved to hear Linnell laugh naughtily. Then lastly, he pulled the bloody towel out from under Linnell, which wasn't as neat as when it was placed, and pushed the now padded underwear up Linnell's legs, letting his core sit snugly inside them.
JF didn't feel the harsh light of the bedroom was fitting, but before he could replace it with something softer, JL put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to lay down on the other side of the bed. "Let me do it - you need to lie down." He 'offered'.
"But John, you're-"
"No, no. Rest." Linnell said simply. Quietly. Calmly.
Linnell stood up having recovered almost fully, and turned off the lights with a click. The room plunged into darkness and the sun had fully set outside. It was quiet, and FLANS was thankful for Linnell keeping him in bed and letting him stay calm. The smaller John climbed back into bed with the taller John and pulled the sheets over the two of them.
Linnell ran his hands up the back of Flans' neck and smiled into his tired eyes. "You look like you need sleep.." The observation itself lulled Flans off.
"I do.. but I'm not gonna sleep yet." Whispered Flans.
Before Linnell could ask why, his head was lifted up from Flans' chest, and he was pulled in for a brief, yet deep kiss. Flans was more exhausted than he liked to admit, and Linnell noticed when they parted their faces. "It's okay." Whispered Linnell, curling a lock of Flans' near-black hair around his finger. "You can go to sleep."
"Thank you.." Sighed Flans. He set another gentle peck in Linnell's hair before closing his eyes.
"Goodnight, Flansy." Whispered Linnell, his voice loving and tender, filled with adoration for his sleepy boyfriend, who's strong arms wrapped around him, seeking comfort.
"Goodnight..."