forthedog | (no subject)

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."

"Probably," I admit, breaking out in a wide grin, and yeah, he's right -- There's not even an ounce of shame in it. Chin tipping down, still high up in his arms, I loom over him, water dripping from the ends over my hair and splashing onto his skin.

"Maybe I just like keepin' you on your toes."

"Never a dull moment, huh?" He grins, presses a kiss to the hollow between Neil's collarbones, lapping gently at the wet on his skin before he leans up, the fingers in Neil's hair now tugging him in and down. "C'mere," he murmurs.

"'m right here," I murmur right back, leaning in close enough that our lips just barely brush. "Just tryin' to keep myself entertained. Somebody's gotta." Grinning, I dart my tongue out along the seam of his lips, nudging my way into a shallow and frustratingly teasing kiss.

He's about to say something along the lines of right, because Hobbes and me do such a fucking awful job but it's lost in the kiss, in what the kiss isn't, because he wants it deeper. He nudges at Neil's lips with his tongue, trying to push them open, something just a little combative in it, something that he likes.

Kissing Neil has always been different from kissing Tom. Tom opens up fully into it, almost never holds anything back, though on occasion he'll find it in him to tease. Teasing... it's like Neil's second nature and he finds himself enjoying the contrast.

Leaning back just a little bit, staying just out of reach of where he wants me, I flick my tongue out again, nudging against his, lips curling into a smug grin and my hips rolling just barely. Just a subtle shift. Just enough that he can't possibly ignore it. Catching his bottom lip in my teeth, I scrape lightly, darting in for a kiss and then away just as quickly.

Damn right I'm fuckin' with him now, but I know for sure he isn't gonna complain.

He can feel himself being reeled along, just like a fucking fish, and with a twinge of amusement he realizes that he's got no urge to fight it, not yet. It wouldn't take a whole lot of effort to steer Neil back towards the rock walls, shove him hard against one and end this little game, and maybe that's where it's headed, since this is only stirring the want in his gut even higher. Blood a little hotter in his veins. He chases Neil's mouth, catches his lips in a quick bite, maybe a little harder than it has to be.

He can play the game too, if it comes to that.

With that sharp pinch, I let out an embarrassingly needy whine, like I'm not the one that started this little game. I follow after him, but I take a detour at the last second, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, catching the smile line -- or maybe frown line bracketing his mouth and then moving along with nipping kisses along his jaw.

My teeth close over his earlobe, giving it a light suck, blunt nails scraping across his shoulders. Then I make my way back to his lips all over again, the kiss just a little deeper this time, but just as fleeting.