forthedog | (no subject)

He's not sure he'll ever totally get used to it, Neil saying his name that way. It undoes something in him and he feels himself sinking further down, need a force pushing the blood through his veins. His lips move from Neil's mouth, to his jaw, to his throat and down to the hollow between his collarbones, and the rhythm of his hand doesn't even stutter. It's a little clumsy like this, but he's never cared before and he doesn't now. As long as Neil keeps making sounds like that, he figures he's doing something right.

Letting out a rumble of almost drunken laughter, my head lolls to the side, eyes drifting shut, blunt nails digging into the strong muscles of his shoulders and my hips grinding up into all that tight friction.

"Fuck, that's really good," I murmur, like I'm somehow surprised. Just a fucking handjob but, even now, part of me never expects sex to feel this good.

"So I shouldn't stop?" He presses in with his lips brushing neil's ear, working himself into a slow, hard grind in time with his hand, pushing himself closer, hoping he's pulling Neil along with him. He wants to stay close like this, almost every inch pushed together, but he has to pull back because suddenly he wants to see Neil's face, that expression like he's lost somewhere, like he's just taken a bite of something overpoweringly sweet.

"Christ, just look at you," he breathes, not even really meaning Neil to hear.

"Fuck no. Don't stop," I murmur, another breath of laughter bubbling up in my throat. My eyes flicker open, lids fluttering weakly, and I moan helplessly at what I find there on his face. It's a slow burn this time, not that frantic, painful rush toward orgasm. Tiny sparks flaring up, building, the two of us climbing slowly together toward the edge.

"What about me?" I actually manage a faint smirk, one hand lifting to curve along the side of his face, holding him there so that I can see him. A sharp, gasping whine catches in the back of my throat, heat flaring, and I'm so fucking close, hips grinding hard to meet his, wanting to watch him come just about as much as anything else.

"You know what," he manages, moving faster, feeling the water churned around his hand. He's close, wanting to rush over the edge and wanting to hold back, wanting to wait for Neil. He leans their foreheads together and gasps, already shuddering with the effort of keeping himself under control.

"Want you to come for me," he gasps, catching Neil's gaze with his own and holding it, dark. "Wanna see it."

It's hard to focus like this, everything reduced to snapshots. Blinking shutter flashes. The falls, the rocks, the burning sunlight. Then just his face, his eyes, and nothing else. I twitch, shudder, and catch fire, lurching forward, bucking against him and then going still, lips parted and my face twisting up in something like deep concentration, when really I can't think much of anything at all. I keep my eyes open the whole time, clutching at him, holding on to keep myself anchored.

I don't say anything. I figure maybe I don't need to.

It's only after he's sure he's seen it, sure he's not going to miss anything, that he lets himself go and everything loosens in a warm rush into his hand and the water, only to clench again and twist his muscles into shuddering. He gasps, makes a rough, choked sound, sagging against Neil and breathing hard, feeling weirdly like laughing if he had the breath for it.

My face ends up buried in the crook of his neck, lips working mindlessly over damp skin, arms wrapped around him, holding onto him in a loose embrace. Back slipping on the rocks, water laps at the base of my throat and I laugh weakly, tightening my arms around him to stay afloat. With awareness slowly dawning, I realize how precarious this little perch of mine is, shoulders aching, skin rubbed raw from the rough stone at my back.

Not that I care. I'm about a million miles from giving a fuck right now.

He gives in and echoes the laugh, soft and breathless, reaching up to stroke a hand through Neil's damp hair. He's tired, but in a way that seems like it might not stick around. Under the tiredness he's loose and relaxed, the water soothing all around him. He sighs, brushes his lips against Neil's temple.

"Today's pretty good so far," he observes quietly.

"Pretty good?" I echo, grinning blearily, finally dragging up enough energy that I can lift my head to look at him. My skin's starting to prune, I think, but I have no intention of moving anytime soon. My bones feel like they might've melted out into the water, leaving me weak and loose-limbed, pressed so tight against him that it's a little hard to tell what belongs to me and what doesn't.

"Mm, sounds about right, I guess."

"It isn't exactly sucking," he says, low and faintly rough with amusement as he lifts Neil against him, holds him close and up as he starts them drifting back again into deeper water, his toes barely touching the bottom.

Coughing out a surprised laugh, one that's wide-open and completely unguarded, I hitch my other thigh up around his hips, letting him carry me through the water, no fuckin' help at all. Giving him a look that's all smirk around my mouth, but maybe a softer sorta smile around my eyes, I lean down and nudge my lips against his, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other drifting up into his hair. My tongue darts out and the taste is somehow deeply familiar and strangely novel at the same time. Not sure I'll ever get tired of it.

He hums against Neil's mouth, barely a quiet rumble as his lips part and his tongue flicks against Neil's before he deepens the kiss. He's going slow, absolutely no hurry now, just the pleasure of touching Neil like this, being this close in the open air.

"Love you," he breathes, hand sliding under Neil's ass just to hold him up more securely, though in the water he's featherweight.

I'm still not used to it. I think, maybe, one day it'll stop seeming profound. Fade in with all the other words spoken, 'til I hardly notice them from the rest. I'll be sorta disappointed when that day comes, I think. If it does. If this lasts long enough. God, I really hope that it does.

There's a warm, clinching weight in my chest, flushing out over my skin, and I don't know how long it is that I'm stunned into silence. Not long, I guess, 'cause almost right on the tails of it, I'm breathing out an, "I love you," of my own. Even the crashing water seems quiet and distant.

He laughs again. He can't help it. At the look that flickers over Neil's face and the tone of his words and simple fact that they're here like this and at everything. He laughs, leans in and kisses Neil again, a little faster and a little harder.

"Fuck," he chuckles. "You and Hobbes, you'll make a fucking romantic outta me." And really, Eostre's already got him halfway there.

"Hey, man, the damage was already done way before I came along," I laugh, rolling my eyes and leaning in to catch his lips in another quick, nipping kiss.

"If you'd rather, I'll just keep my fuckin' mouth shut, from now on."

"No," he says, thoughtful, like he's musing on the idea but deciding against it. He reaches up, rubs a wet thumb over Neil's lips, noting the way they're slightly swollen. "I have way too much fun with your mouth to let you do that."

Arching a brow, I give him a look that blatantly says, Oh really, lips parting under the light pressure of his thumb and my tongue sneaking out to graze the rough pad of his fingertip. I close my teeth just over the nail, grinning and then sucking his thumb down past the first joint.

"Good choice," I say, pulling back to let my teeth scrape over the whirls of his fingerprint.

He watches Neil with a distant kind of heat in his gaze, banked down but still definitely here, and as the pad of his thumb rubs the faint roughness of Neil's tongue he moans, low and relaxed, close to a sigh.

"Got no shame, do you?" He's grinning, thumbing Neil's lower lip, almost playing with it. "Not a fucking ounce."

"Should I?"

My lips stretch into a smirk, gone lopsided by the tug of his thumb, and I shift purposefully against him. Just enough to make both of us aware of all the places we're touching.

I'm good at this. I've always been good at it. Always taken a twisted feeling of pride from it. It's different now, and maybe there's shame in the things I've done, in how I got so good at this game, but here, now... I don't see any reason to hold back. None at all.

He laughs at that. "Probably not." He curls his arm around Neil's waist as they drift slowly in the center of the pool, letting all his nerves move back into being fully awake, feeling the way Neil fits against him. A little over a year ago he was in this exact place doing this exact thing with Tom, and he had found it a little difficult to believe then, too.

His free hand shifts away from Neil's mouth and up into his hair, gently tugging his head back, letting the sun catch the fine sheen of moisture on his face and neck. "Love just looking at you," he murmurs.

"Mm, love having you look," I murmur with a faint, teasing smile, face tipped up toward the clear, blue sky. But it's true. Just having his eyes on me, I feel a warm flush in my gut, spreading out over the surface of my skin. That's just with a normal look. The heat in his eyes now, and I can hardly breathe.

My spine arches, and yeah, I'm well aware of what I'm doing. I hum low in my throat, hands moving lazily over his shoulders. I'm in no hurry at all.

He almost laughs again. Back long before this whole thing had started, he'd been aware of how Neil radiated sex, and aware that it had been mostly habit. This isn't habit, though, this is downright fucking intentional, and the same sort of skill is involved in both. He tugs Neil's head back a little harder, watching tendons stand out in his neck, drops of water trickling down the lines.

"Fucking tease," he says, flashing a grin. "I'm not even sure when you mean it and when you don't."

"Always mean it," I say, gasping sharply when my head jerks back, a laugh rolling up from my chest and out into the air. "You know I'm not gonna fuck with you," I legs tighten around his hips, "Why would I?"

"Really? I dunno," he says musingly, leaning down to drag a slow kiss up the line of Neil's throat before he pulls away again, staring down at him with a smile curving his lips. What he's feeling... something else might happen, or he could be content to just float here, teasing gently. "I think maybe you like fucking with people, period."