Gentle impulsion

[forthedog]

It's been a long time since he's done this. In some sense he's never done this.

He's had Eostre bound, blindfolded. He's been bound by her in his turn. And there had been the afternoon in her hut, with the belt, with Tom on his knees. And long before that there had been other times, times with a lot less warmth and a lot more disconnect. They hadn't been bad, not really, but they hadn't been close to this.

Or to what he imagines this could be.

It's close to half an hour since he'd left Tom in the compound. He's sitting on his bed, facing the door and waiting. Next to him is a coil of rope, his belt, his hunting knife. He's not sure what he'll use. Maybe he'll use none of it, this time. But he wants Tom to see them, as best he can in the flickering light of the two candles burning in saucers on the makeshift table beside the bed. If he doesn't use them, he wants Tom to be aware that he can. Anytime.

He realizes that it's a lot, that they haven't done much in this vein since the first baby steps that one afternoon weeks ago, that Tom might simply turn and leave if it's too much.

It's a risk he's willing to take, now. He curls his hands into loose fists and waits.

Comments

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

A grin on his own face echoes Mike's look, and deliberately, Hobbes nodded, letting his body go lax and unresisting against him. He suddenly feels very, very drained.

"M'okay." His eyes fluttered closed. "Achy."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"Good." There's still come spattering Tom's face and for a second he feels an almost overwhelming urge to drop to his knees and clean him, with his lips and tongue and fingertips. And then... take care of him. However he wants.

But that's not where they are right now.

He hesitates for a few seconds, then releases Tom's hair and steps past him, toward the door, leaving him there on his knees.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Tom's eyes drifted open after a few moments of loss, and he tracked Mike's movements, turning around as far as he could without crawling.

"I...?" he said, not understanding, so obviously not understanding. "Pinocchio? Did I do something...wrong?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"No." He turns in the doorway, still with that faint smile. "You did good. Real good." But this is the last little bit of torture, and the one he's most nervous about. Because this is the hardest to explain. Either Tom will understand it, or he simply won't.

He inclines his head slightly. "We're done. I'm going to Eostre's." His eyes flicker down to Tom's cock, still hard, and to his unbound wrists.

"Use your hand if you need to," he adds, and in his smile there's a sharp little edge of cruelty. "'S what it's for."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"It's what it's...?" Hobbes asked, his eyes round with disbelief. His hand dropped down over his dick, cupping himself, ignoring the ache in his arms and his legs.

"I thought that's what yours was for."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He laughs, dry and soft. "Not so much at the moment. Told you. We're done." He turns again, like he's about to walk out of the hut, and then turns back with his eyes glittering and fastened on Tom's face. His palms are sweating and he closes them into fists at his sides.

"Sometimes," he says, very quietly, "it's really just about me."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes watched Mike's shoulders and fists, biting his bottom lip. He grinned then, lopsided, fingers tightening around himself.

"No way, Pinocchio. Not anymore."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He smirks then, crooked and cocky, just like he used to. This kind of spirit shouldn't surprise him; it's been there since the beginning.

It's just that it didn't use to actually make him want to fuck Hobbes's brains out.

"What're you gonna do?" He arches an eyebrow. "Make me fucking stay here?"

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

And then, in complete silence, Hobbes stood. Slowly. There was something in him that knew how long Mike had been watching him, for so many miles and years. And then he trailed his palm up his dick, rubbing a slow circle at the top with the pad of his thumb, not taking his eyes off Mike once.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

So this is interesting.

He stays there, still with that little smirk on his face, still with that eyebrow raised, making every appearance of being nothing more than faintly amused.

But he knows that Hobbes can see through him by now. So it's a pretty safe bet that he isn't fooled.

Even so. He stays there, and his eyes glide slowly down to Tom's hand and cock and then back up again. There might be a challenge in it, just a little.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

With a thin, sighing moan, Hobbes closed his eyes, tipping his head back. Back arched, hand moving slowly...a lot of it was unintentional, a lot of it he was barely even aware of, but there was a thread of intent there. He knew what this was doing, what he was asking.

It really was amazing how fast one can learn.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe, a hundred different things flitting across his face. He'd said they were done, but are they? This feels like a more genuine clash of wills than anything previous to it, and he finds himself reveling in it, wanting to push it further.

When Hobbes moans he echoes it. It's a soft sound, barely audible, more a sigh than anything else. But it slips out before he can stop it and hangs there in the air between them.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Still touching himself, still moving his hips in small ways, standing, Tom opened his eyes just a little. He was grinning, now, trumphant, cocky. It slanted across his face. He took two slow steps back to the bed.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

His eyes narrow at that grin, though the smirk doesn't fade. If they isn't actually done yet, this is just a little bit out of line.

Maybe he should try to get it back under him again.

"Kinda demanding, aren't you?" He takes one step forward, and another, arms still crossed. "You really in a position to be that way?"

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

"Demanding?" Hobbes asked, his breath catching on the last syllable, his whole body relaxed, his hand slow and steady on his dick.

"I don't think I've demanded anything?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"Bullshit. You know you have." He steps closer. He could turn and walk away here. He probably should, if he really wants to come out of this with the upper hand.

But they both know that's not how this is going to go.

"You want me to touch you?" His voice drops and smolders, low and rough like he wants this just as much. "You want my hand on your dick? You want me to suck you off, you slut?"

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes makes a high pitched noise that he didn't intend to make, reedy, small. His mouth opened a little, but his eyes stayed clothed.

"I want you to make me come."

Not quite so beseeching as a request, no. It almost felt more like a demand.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

He stops at the bed. He's staring down at Tom, lying there with his hand on his cock, fucking displaying himself, and for just a second he can't do or say or think anything at all.

He'd had no idea. No. Fucking. Idea. Before, when he'd thought about Hobbes and sex (and Sophie, because that was kind of part of the package) he'd thought about things being disgustingly romantic and sweet, with enough candles to burn a house down and scented oils and probably some goddamn rose petals.

Not this. He leans down, slow, hands on either side of Hobbes's hips. He leans in close enough for their lips to almost brush. He doesn't touch him.

"Too fucking bad," he murmurs. "'Cause that's not gonna happen."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Once, there were rose petals and candles, once there was a blanket in a cornfield and a midsummer sky. Once, once...

There were things that were cherished and not forgotten, and here, now, love is the same but sex is different. As good. Better? Maybe. Sex before never touched him this deeply. Sophie was warm and soft, and year, there had been scented oils, and it made him feel like his heart was going to explode.

With Mike, like this...it feels like someone is dragging a finger down his bones. He's never felt so trusting and, beneath is all, so fucking cherished.

"You're going to Eostre's," Hobbes accused, resisting the urge to lean up in the kiss. "I can make myself come thinking about you, and there's nothign you can do to stop me."

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"Why would I want to?" He smiles, thin and mean and amused, and underneath it, warm. Because God, he loves this. It's sweet and dirty and he does, and what send it rocketing into an entirely new level is that Tom so clearly loves it too.

He glances down at Tom's hand, at the slick head of his dick poking out of the end of his fist. He licks his lips. It's a slip, but he does.

"Don't let me stop you. Seriously."

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

Hobbes' mouth drops further open and his eyes drop closed and he arches...one long sigh.

"Like I was gonna let you..." he says, looking at him from beneath his lashes. "You coming or going, PInocchio?"

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

"You aren't gonna 'let' me do anything, dick," he murmurs, so close, close enough to feel soft puffs of breath on his face. Tom's hand is almost touching his belly. "You think I walked back in here just because you wanted me to? Don't flatter yourself."

He smiles, and when he does his teeth show. "You're coming, I think," he says, musingly.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

It's the voice and the closeness that does it, really. Suddenly, his hand is moving very fast, tight. His back arches reflexivly and his hand rubs Mike's stomach as he jerks himself, mouth searching blindly for a kiss.

[m-pinocchio.livejournal.com]

So he'd been kind of lying. And it's a safe bet that whatever part of Hobbes's brain that's still capable of rational thought is aware of this. Of course he's here because Hobbes wants him. He'd never have turned around when he did otherwise. He wouldn't fucking be here now. He wouldn't be lifting a hand to gently cup Tom's face as he erases the last centimeter of distance between their mouths.

It's all for him. All of it. It always has been.

[out-of-realm.livejournal.com]

He can't hold it back any more, not the need, the fear, the uncertainty that had made this so unknown and so, so complete. Hobbes groaned brokenly into the kiss and jerked against Mike, spilling over his own hands and onto Mike's stomach.