Breaking the Levee (18+)

Tony and Dean’s schedules don’t align, and it’s been awhile since they had any time quality time together. After a long day at work, Tony comes home and finds himself alone and missing Dean…or so he thought.

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1.

Head lights flickered through half closed blinds, casting barred shadows across the wall of the silent house. A noisy track thundered from inside the truck, rattling the quiet neighborhood. It was 5:47am. When the neighbors rose for their breakfast, coffee, and newspapers, they would surely have complaints about that noisy asshole from next door. The music cut abruptly, and the car door slammed shut.

Keys clattered outside the front door, fumbling in the dark, before the door opened and Tony slid through. The door closed firmly behind him and he emptied his pockets into a catch dish nearby. Heavy steps filled the house as he made his way to the couch. He collapsed over the arm and onto his back, legs dangling over the edge in exhausted deflation.

One thing Tony learned while working graveyard at the local gas station was that, even in a small town, the drunks come out after 10pm and the lunatics arrive by 3am. It had been some time around 1am when a guy stumbled through the door, intoxicated and slurring, and making gestures Tony could not decipher.

Notes: This story contains explicit illustrations and subject matter. Thanks for reading

November 2022

“In words, what can I do for you?” Tony asked.

The man was making a box in the air with his hands, “You know...”

“I don’t know.”

“You know…” the man fumbled in the air a moment longer, “ice.”

“The ice is at the back, down there.”

He stumbled off, knocking over a display showcasing those gas station name tags that the manager insisted should be alphabetized. This happened a couple of weeks ago, and Tony had spent the next two hours sorting through them. He supposed that’s what the rest of his night would look like. He walked around the counter and picked up the rack, shoving the keychains on the floor to the side so this drunk fuck could pay for his ice.

The drunk rounded the aisle and nearly fell, pulling a couple of chip bags to the floor as he made his way to the door, no ice in hand.

“No ice?” Tony called after him.

“Don’t need it.”

Tony picked the keychains off the floor and put them on the counter, beginning the sorting process.

Two hours later another man came in. He walked in without a word and mingled in the aisles awhile. He came back with chips, a mountain dew, and asked for a pack of smokes. Tony scanned the wall for his brand.

“Down there, to the right.” The man offered.

Tony rang up his items and counted out change from a twenty.

“You got funny ice in here, son.”

Tony looked up, “Wh-huh?”

The man grabbed his goods and left without another word, eyeing him suspiciously.

Tony walked to the back of the store and opened the ice machine. That was when he learned he’d be spending the remainder of his shift throwing ice out and scraping frozen piss from the walls of the freezer.

This wasn’t every night, but it sure as shit felt like it.

He laid motionless on the couch as the fan above him hummed to a soft rhythmic clatter. A single light on a small table next to the couch was the only source that illuminated the room. It was dim and barely brighter than a night light; a comfort in contrast to the bright fluorescents that lit the gas station.  

Tony sighed and put his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes slowly, as if he were attempting to wipe away the greasy film that smelled of convenience store hotdogs four days reheated. The hotdogs were only two days reheated and nearly petrified, but a write up waiting to happen regardless. The establishment was permanently bathed in grease. The fried food that boiled away thickened the air so much your cholesterol rose walking through the door. This was the repulsive fog that followed him home every night, free of charge. Compliments of the house. It clung to his clothes and lined his hair. The AC was on its way out, and staff complaints had only received them a small rotating fan behind the counter—a fan that the register and kitchen fought over. Even a good shower never felt like it could properly wash away the hours spent in that grease fryer.

Tony realized he hadn’t been particularly graceful when fell through the door like a man on his deathbed. Was Dean sleeping? Of course he was, he’d be at work by nine. Oh, these schedules. They hadn’t seen much of each other in the last month, unless you were to count grunting at each other through half asleep nods as the other left for work.

The graveyard shift was a new addition to Tony’s life that he wasn’t fond of. The store recently had a girl quit with no notice after handsy drunken fuckheads had harassed her while working nights. The manager moved Tony’s shift, insisting it was temporary while they looked for a new hire. As far as Tony was aware, they had not been looking for a replacement.

Tony missed Dean.

It felt like an eternity since they'd been together. Four weeks? No, it had to have been five by now. It hurt more knowing he was in the other room, but asleep and a hundred miles away. He wanted to take him out to eat, sit down, and catch up. Pass back and forth the week’s stories of tired minutia and harassment that could only be so funny when embellished with the enthusiasm of an off-duty service worker. He wanted to cackle over the titles of the newest shipment of adult films Dean’s store had received, and the junior high boys who thought they were running a slick game of smuggling them out.

Maybe they could go out this evening. He'd have to catch Dean on his way to work and ask what time he’d get home. He worked at the local music and video store in the city over, about a thirty-minute drive. He’d worked there for a couple summers in high school and fit the scene well. Dean talked about how Rob, the owner, was looking to start entering retirement and cut back on his hours. However, he would need to appoint new management before doing so, and Dean was hoping for the position. Recently, Dean had been pulling extra hours to help Rob with various shop tasks. Last week he’d assisted Rob with putting up local ticket ads for an upcoming music show they hosted in a backroom. They got a lot of local bands and the venue was popular. Most of the time Dean did the designs for these posters, a meager commission, but he seemed to enjoy the opportunity.

Dean certainly worked a lot of hours, but there was admittedly a pang of jealousy when Tony considered his job. Dean seemed in his element pursuing something he enjoyed, while Tony cleaned piss from the inside of an ice freezer. He missed him, god he missed him, and he was feeling left behind in it all.

He longed to see Dean more than he could describe, but in this moment, he might have lusted to undress him more. This month’s evenings had been a full schedule of solo work; a return to the classics. Masturbating alone on the couch had its moments of course, but weeks of this was starting to wear it out. When the time allowed for it, they’d spend a lot of time in each other’s pants, but these days even a kiss escaped them. Three weeks ago, Tony had managed to score a blowjob on his way out for work. It had been Dean’s day off. It had been hasty and lacked the full spectrum of Dean’s capabilities, but it’d certainly made the day brighter.

The last year or so had been a great deal of fun spent exploring each other, trying things, making messes, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He’d never been in a place where he could try something without fear of rejection. Christ knew Dean was a fiend. The simple things were just as special. Waking up with a hand working his morning erection or slow lazy sex in bed, the highlight of these moments was just being close.

He wanted to feel Dean. Hold his kiss and make it sloppy. Undress him rapidly. Fumble with the shirt buttons and barely have time to unzip his jeans before Deans mouth was on his cock and a hand groping between his legs. He wanted to be blown to the edge, made to finish undressing, and then bent over the bed. He wanted Dean to tease him with the head of his cock, glazing lube in a glistening stream over his ass, massaging it in with a circular motion before pressing into him. He wanted--

Tony wanted a lot, apparently. He felt his erection pressing against his jeans, straining with unfulfilled desires. Right on schedule. His hand reflexively moved to his cock, rubbing himself through his pants, encouraging it further. Sliding himself back into the couch and resting his head on the opposite arm, he unlaced his boots and kicked them off. His belt clattered open as he unzipped his pants and slid them down a few inches. He traced the outline of his dick through his boxer briefs and teased the small wet circle that was forming around his head before sliding them down with a shimmy. His cock stood at attention. A stream of precum trailed down his shaft and he collected it, returning it to his head which he worked with his foreskin in slow, steady strokes. He could never bring himself to last very long on his own. In the end, this was his mandatory release for the day. How he came down from serving inebriated idiots for eight hours. He leaned back, eyes half closed and leaving for somewhere else. Back to Dean.

2.

He'd been watching for longer than he should have. Dean was leaning against the hallway entry behind Tony. He’d gotten up to take a leak and had only just started to doze off again when Tony came in. He hadn’t been sleeping well as of late. His work demands were draining and the routine of never seeing his boyfriend was weighing on him. He imagined it was hard on Tony, too.

When he woke, the tv was flickering snow, casting shadows in the room. He must have fallen asleep to a movie he couldn’t remember. He was immediately aware of his desire to go to Tony, sit on the couch, and catch up in a sleepy haze until he could pull him to bed and kiss him deeply. He threw on a thin black satin robe before getting up, and he wanted Tony to take it off. 

As he stood there, Dean could feel himself getting hard, watching Tony pleasure himself was like an electric shock he couldn’t pull away from. Regardless of how often they had sex, he knew Tony was shy in these matters, and how embarrassed he'd be when caught. Maybe that was all the fun. He could see Tony increasing the pace of his hand and thrusting gently into it. Should he wait until just before his climax to enter the room? That seemed a little mean—for tonight anyway. Yet left to his devices, Tony was going to spoil the moment all too soon, and then where would the fun be.

"Hard day at work?" Dean asked.

He laughed as a startled Tony flinched and whipped around, pulling his jeans over his cock. Oh, Tony.

"Dean I—" he said sitting up, “I didn’t know you were up." He shifted his pants up like a nervous teenager caught in the act and working overtime to pretend he hadn’t been. His hardon betrayed him, pressed against his leg and not particularly well hidden, as if there was anything to hide.

Folding his arms, Dean crossed over to the couch and sat on the opposite end. He could see how flushed Tony was. He smiled gently.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Well, I uh..."

"Well, I uh...I’ve seen your dick before," Dean teased.

Tony loosened with a breathy chuckle, "Yeah. I guess it was a hard day at work."

His words hung in the air for a beat too long. Dean couldn’t decide if he wanted to ease into this or take him now.

"C'mere."

Tony's voice drew him in. It was almost a whisper, but it broke the levee between them, and Dean poured forward. Their lips met, softly, before reuniting with the enthusiasm of starved hounds fighting for a meal. Their mouths wrestled and Dean slid his hands to Tony’s face, steadying the pace. Dean straddled him and positioned himself over Tony's open fly. His hands worked the sides of Tony's face, moving through his hair and brushing it to the side.

Tony grunted and started to pull away. Dean was broken from his hypnosis and tried to meet Tony's eyes.

"I’m nasty, man," Tony said, avoiding Dean’s eyes that searched him, "You know how that place is. I’ll go shower, it’ll be quick."

He had that look of embarrassment again. There were times when it charmed Dean and there were times when it saddened him. Dean knew Tony was hard on himself, and hard on what he believed he deserved. He needed to earn everything, and he’d always been this way. He didn’t want to clean up because it would make him feel good, it was because he didn’t deserve this otherwise. Tony his insecurities to himself, but Dean had known him for too long. Tony might laugh to deflect the blow, but it revealed itself in the little things. Dean wasn’t going to let this play out. He shook his head slowly, pressing his lips against Tony's and holding him there, taking him in. Tony pulled away again, that confusion flashing. Dean straightened. Not this time.

"I want you, Tony," said Dean, his voice commanding attention, "I want you, and I want you filthy." He could feel Tony's erection strengthening under his leg. "I’m going to suck your cock, but you’re not going to dare cum, are you?" As if on command, Tony melted in the hands that stroked his hair held his face, nodding. He pressed his own hand against Dean's and felt held.

Dean felt the cool air brush the head of his cock. Looking down, he found his little surprise to have been ruined. His cock had announced itself, breaking past the thin material he had thrown on and ruining his planned reveal when he made Tony undress him. He supposed both of their cocks had betrayed any form of subtlety and smiled to himself. They needed this.

As if reading his thoughts, Dean felt Tony's hands on his waist exploring his hips and dancing around the cock that now lay on his belly. Dean couldn’t decide if he was being teased or if Tony was waiting to be allowed the privilege. He enjoyed this attention. Dean rocked his hips gently, aware of the extra member prodding at his leg below him. Tony's hands found the sash at Dean’s waist and carefully untied it, gliding inwards and explored the contours of his body. He lingered over his chest and Dean felt is heart fluttered. He was certain Tony was not only aware of his excitement, but savoring it. He was certainly being teased. A challenge rose inside him, the desire to pin him down and have his way. He would make Tony beg tonight, he needed to hear him beg.

Tony's hand worked to his shoulders and in a single motion swept the robe from Dean's body. It fell to his thighs, unveiling with it a sudden rush of cool air. A small gasp escaped him, aware of his new vulnerability. He could feel his nakedness being eaten alive by Tony's gaze. Dean looked down at him, tempting him to take more.

A soft moan escaped him as he returned to his fantasies, replaying them like a rewound tape. Dean was thrusting into him now, working his cock. Getting deeper, faster. In this fantasy his hands were tied and all he could do was focus on the pleasure Dean gave him.

"You gonna make good on your promise," Tony said, his voice daring Dean, "or should I keep imagining all the things I want you to do to me?"

There it is, there's the eagerness Dean wanted to punish. He wanted to take it and make Tony wild. He would beg.

"Im going to make good on all of my promises," said Dean, his head tilting back, a seriousness taking his eyes, "Now take your cock out."

Obediently, Tony fumbled with his jeans and his penis sprung forward, precum dripping from his head and down his shaft once again.

"You always make a mess," Dean laughed, "you’re such a drippy faucet." A chuckle escaped Tony with a light blush. Dean took Tony’s cock in his hand, warmth pulsed from it and he could feel Tony shudder, his breath catching. Dean was tempted to ride him—ease into him slowly and grind until he climaxed, but being this pent up, he knew Tony would finish instantly. He wanted to play with him longer than that.

Sliding his body down between Tony's legs, Dean brought him to his mouth, hot breath teasing out more precum. He played with his foreskin, pulling it forward and back over his head before taking it in his mouth. Dean was good at sucking cock. He had a talent for deep throating and was fond of his skilled tongue, as he knew others were as well. He moved slowly, wanting to find Tony's edge and hold him there. His hand trailed behind his mouth in a steady rhythm, holding his mouth near the base of Tony's cock and working his tongue along his shaft. Dean felt hands behind his head. Eager hands. Tony held Dean's head down, pressing him onto his full length. He repressed a gag as he felt Tony's cock slide to the back of his throat. He accepted it eagerly, thinking briefly on how much he’d missed this.

Tony began to thrust, slowly at first, but his cock throbbed against Dean's tongue and he knew he was getting close. His pace increased as he face-fucked him, spit pooling from Dean's mouth. He was becoming more excited as his head tilted back and his balls pulled tight against his cock. Dean forced himself up. A string of saliva and precum tethered from his mouth to Tony's penis, throbbing in frustration as he groaned.

"What was that?" asked Dean, "I thought you wanted me to make good on my promises." He liked seeing Tony this way. His hair was an unraveled mess and his face had that desperate, frustrated look. He loved to make Tony promise not to cum. It's such an easy thing to promise to while you’re eager for a blow job. The real pleasure was waiting for the moment Tony realized what it would mean.

"Tell me what else I promised." His command was playful but demanding, he wanted to hear him say it. Tony paused, as if he'd half forgotten his wits. Swallowing, he answered, "That I’m not allowed to cum."

That's what he liked to hear. Dean felt a pulse run through his cock, a pulse that energized him and made him hungry for more.

"Very good. I’m a little disappointed you seemed to have forgotten this, but I’m sure you won’t forget again." Tony shook his head. He looked like a dog begging for instruction so he could earn his treat.

Dean shifted forward again, his hardon sliding against Tony's as he straddled him yet again. His cock felt like embers against his own. The heat excited Dean and made him warm.

"I want you to take our cocks in your hand and finish what you started, but I cum first," a smiled passed his lips, "I trust you can pace yourself when you get close. Make me cum and I’ll decide if you've earned it."

Tony nodded and eagerly press their cocks together. His hand wrapped around their shafts and began to slide up and down, the saliva and precum slicking Dean’s cock. The softness and warmth of Tony filled his head with stars. It left as quickly as it arrived, as Tony's hand pulled away from their penises, clutching the inside of his thigh to steady himself as he waited to come back from the edge. Dean's cock throbbed in response. What a beautiful picture this was… and how far Tony had yet to go. He began again, gripping their cocks with far less strength, clearly working to keep himself from climax. Dean’s hands explored Tony's belly and thighs as he carried on. He began to pause for breath more and more frequently and the tease was making Dean ravenous.

Dean spat on his hand and shifted forward, allowing him to glide down between Tony's thighs. He inserted his fingers into him and watched as Tony gasped and pulled at his shirt. What little composure he had was lost as he moaned. Dean slid in two fingers and played with his hole. Tony was a mess.

"I didn’t say you could stop stroking our cocks."

With a shaky hand Tony continued. The cycle went on but grew shorter with every edge Tony achieved. Dean was getting close, the struggle below him was making him wild, but he needed to hear him beg.

"Dean please," his voice was muffled through teeth that gripped into the collar of his shirt, "I can't, I’m gonna ruin it—"

"I still haven’t cum, Tony," said Dean, leaning into a disappointed tone, "I thought you might have wanted to please me. If it’s that much trouble I can finish myself and leave."

"N-no.." he was desperate now.

"Beg me to cum, Tony," he made him look at him with a hand caressing his cheek, "Beg me to cum on your cock." Dean was so close.

Tony trembled, hand resuming its duty, "Please Dean, please cum on my cock."

Dean felt his body grow hot, tensing with anticipation of his climax. In an unspoken obedience, Tony left his cock for Dean's, increasing his pace and gliding across his full length with slick agility. His orgasm flowed out of him in streamlined ropes of hot cum, carefully unloaded onto Tony's cock that pulsed below him in a final desperate edge.

Dean was panting as his erection began to dissipate, satisfied by Tony's service. Final throbs of pleasure passed as he grew soft while Tony continued a slow, gentle stroke. His head rolled back, dizzy with relief. He'd fantasized about this for weeks. How he'd missed his boy.

Exhaling, he came to his senses. Looking back down at Tony, he admired the disheveled mess he had created. Hands gripped his shirt and twisting it into knots as his eyes begged to be finished.

"I've made you work hard tonight, haven't I?"

Tony nodded, his desperation melting into exhaustion.

"You’re my boy," Dean's voice was low and overflowing with warmth as he leaned over Tony, bringing his face to meet Tony's lips, "I love you."

Dean's hand found Tony's cock, still hot with his own semen. He worked this new lubrication up and down, finding a steady pace as he felt Tony’s cock throb in increasing succession. It wasn’t long before he tensed, and his orgasm emptied onto his shirt. Dean watched as ecstasy flowed through him and he was left dazed and gasping. He smiled watching Tony recover as his breath slowed and his erection left with satisfaction.

Dean flopped backwards, letting his legs entangle with Tony's as they both let the exhaustion of the day return and begin to beckon them to bed.

Tony laughed to himself, eyes half closed as he folded his hands behind his head, “Just wait until I tell you about what this guy did to the ice freezer.”

“Did he jizz in it?” Dean asked with a grin, eager to hear the story.

“No, but that would have been easier to clean up.” He paused for a moment letting their laughs trail off, “I wanna go out to eat tomorrow. I don’t care where but tell Robbie you can’t help with any after work shit. I’ve got tomorrow—uh,” he was suddenly aware of how late it was, “today off.”

Dean smiled. He knew he needed to pace his work more carefully. Sure, Robbie asked him to do a lot, but he’d been readily accepting it. He hoped some of that could slow down when he wasn’t chained to kissing ass for a position. With any luck, Tony’s location would hire a new hand—or hell, maybe he’d find a new job all together. Something that suited him better. This job had always been a transitional position, and it was time to move on.

"It's a date. Not in that shirt, I would hope." Dean eyed Tony’s shirt, and raised a brow. It was covered in more bodily fluids than it had any right to be.

"Yeah, and I ought to make you clean it up,” Tony replied, playing up his annoyance, “Christ Dean, you're so needy when you’re pent up."

"I’m needy? You’re the one who nutted and drooled all over your shirt."

"Yes, needy! How many edges does it take to make you happy?"

"I don’t know, how many was it?"

"Dunno, I quit counting after nine I think."

"Next time I’ll make you keep count."

Tony flashed him a crooked smile. Dean knew he'd like it no other way.

3.

The shower was hot and washed away the day. It was nearly 7am, and light was flooding through the frosted bathroom window. Despite his exhaustion, Tony felt more alive than he'd felt in weeks. His hair still smelled faintly of fried food and hotdogs, but today he didn’t care. He toweled off, threw on clean briefs, and opened the bathroom door to a dark room shrouded by curtains which kept out the rising sunshine. A box fan whirred from the end of the bed, and a slit of light contoured Dean buried under the comforter.

He found his way to bed, pulling back the sheets and slipping into a fresh coolness that soothed his tired body and provided a distinct feeling of safety. It smelled like newly clean bedding, and Tony smiled. It was the little things that Dean did. Dean stirred gently and touched his leg under the sheets. It’d be time for him to get up in a moment. Tony wondered if Dean would regret his lost sleep. He sure hoped not. He wanted nothing more than to sleep the day away with Dean in bed, wake up and pillow talk until three, throw on shirt and head out to eat, then end the day with a movie and a bowl… and someone’s cock buried deep in the other. Tony figured he couldn’t have everything, but at least half those things were possible. He began to doze with sweet fantasies in his head.

He felt Dean’s lips on his cheek before the covers turned Dean was gone. The bathroom door clicked shut as he dressed for the day.

Tony was nearly asleep when he had his last productive thought; he’d put in a request for a shift change or work on a notice to quit. Maybe even both.