forthedog | (no subject)

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.

That sound out of Neil's throat and he almost feels on top again, almost feels like he has the upper hand, and then he's being pulled back under a wave of sensation brought by Neil's mouth. It's strange, this sparring. He's not entirely sure where it came from, not quite sure how to play it. It makes him want to twist against it, rankle just a little. He sighs against Neil's mouth and for just a second he gives in a little.

"Asking for something," he mutters.

"What's the fun if I have to ask?" I murmur, shifting in his arms, hips rolling against his and a moan catching in my throat. But of course, I give in first, 'cause as much as I like to push, I've always been impatient as hell. When I kiss him this time, I don't pull back, and I don't plan to anytime soon.

"But you were," he growls, pulling back after a few seconds of it, staring at Neil with his teeth slightly bared. He doesn't just take teasing like that. No way.

"Not sure it's what you meant to ask for. You want me to fuck the shit outta you, or was that just sort of unintentional?" He's going ahead now, pushing Neil slowly back towards the rock wall near the falls, closer to the ledge he knows is there. He remembers opening his eyes after Tom had come inside him, gaze catching a tiny green fern, the blinding color of it.

Brow arching, I risk a smug smirk, almost defiant in the face of all that intensity, just this side of being angry and maybe even a little dangerous. Eyes dark, I lean in close again, just about nose to nose. It's a little later in the morning, more chance of someone stumbling on us like this, but I hardly seem to notice. Not so much about wanting to get caught or anything like that, it's mostly that I just don't care.

"Sure as hell wasn't an accident."

"No shit." He holds Neil's stare, feeling the defiance in it, the same defiance he'd felt when he'd held the knife against Neil's thigh. It's a goading kind of thing, and he knows Neil means it that way, and that just adds to it.

He presses him back, rock only feet away now and something stirring in his blood, much hungrier than before. "So you wouldn't have a problem, then."

"Oh, yeah. Huge problem," I answer solemnly, cock hard, getting harder, and pressing insistently against his hip.

He laughs, the sound blending with the roar of the falls, much nearer now, adding something a little dark to it. Ledge at Neil's back and Mike's lifting him bodily up onto it. It's all coming back now, the slipperiness of the rock, the wetness under his hands and the wind blowing cool spray against his overheated skin. He and Tom have fucked countless times by now but somehow this one time and place stands out as special, and not just for the obvious reason.

He lays his hands on Neil's thighs, holding himself up in the water with his eyes traveling down over his chest, stomach, down to his dick, pressing Neil's legs apart and placing a soft, almost reverent kiss against the head of his cock. Won't be reverent for too long. Earlier had been play and he guesses this is, too, but it's play of a different flavor.

Lifted clear out of the water, I'm laughing, sound drowned out by the crash of water, but I'm not laughing for long. The air's cooler here, and I break out in a quick flush of goosebumps across my damp skin, shivering, but with more than just the chill. Hooking one leg over his shoulder, I drag him in close, breath hitching before a moan escapes before I can stop it.

My hands scramble on the rocks, so I reach for him instead, one hand slipping up into his hair, holding him in and keeping myself anchored. The other curves along his jaw, thumbing gently at the corner of his lips.

He feels the rising gooseflesh under his hands, stares up at Neil, gaze caught by the glistening sheen to his skin, and he considers teasing him a little more. It would really only be fair. But what that teasing had done to him was make him hungry, make him want, so that's what this is going to be about. He nips lightly at the tip of Neil's thumb and then curls his lips around the head of his cock and slides down, down without hesitation, as deep as he can before Neil's cock hits the back of his throat.

It's everything his body's been wanting and it responds, heat rushing down below his waist and making him moan quietly as he moves slowly up and plunges down again.

"Shit," I breathe out, laughter catching on a moan, head dropping back and my spine arching against my will. He's too fucking good at this, and right away I forget the game I was playing, forget that I was trying to goad him into fucking me stupid... 'cause he seems well on his way.

"Oh, fuck... that's good."

There's no buildup, no easing into it and bringing Neil up to a simmer--he knows he's already there, and he's too impatient by now. Every dip of his head is firm and deep, flicking at the underside with his tongue on the way back up, tasting the salty sweetness of precome in his mouth. He could make Neil come like this, he knows, but that's not what he wants. He wants Neil to come with Mike's dick buried balls-deep in his ass, pressed up against the rocks with his palms scraped and sore.

Just thinking about that makes him even harder.