forthedog | (no subject)

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.

Zero to sixty in ten seconds.

Okay, so I was already gearing up toward a slow boil, but all the sudden it's like every square inch of my body catches fire. Each roll of my hips is a little like a convulsion, completely involuntary. Some mindless, secondary mechanism taking control over my body. I let it wash over me, nothing subtle about it. Crashing waves until I'm not even sure which way is up.

"Oh, fuck... Mike, stop. I -- shit."

He feels it in the tension in Neil's thighs before he even says anything and he's pulling back a second later, breathless and staring up again. He's always been proud of his ability to do this well, though enthusiasm is half of it and there's no way he wouldn't be enthusiastic, here. He licks his lips, still tasting Neil on them, and yanks himself up onto the ledge next to him, standing, looming over Neil with water running in rivulets down his skin.

"Get up," he says, in a voice that doesn't invite any argument.

There's a moment or two that all I can do is blink. Breathe. Try and turn those two little words into something that makes sense. Stare up at him standing over me, skin glistening in the warm, muted light of the little alcove we've found. Completely driven by my dick right now, I've got pretty much zero coordination left, so getting to my feet is more than a little wobbly, trying hard not to slip and crack my fuckin' skull open on the slick rocks.

I'm pretty damn sure that'd kill the mood.

I give him a look. Alright, now what? Already pretty sure of the answer.

He grins at that look, just a flash of teeth, grabs Neil by the shoulders and turns him to face the wall, fast but not so fast that he slips. A second later and he's pressing in, pinning him against the rock, the falling water a roar at their backs and his dick nudging into the crack of Neil's ass. He sighs at the friction, reaches down with wet fingers and presses Neil's cheeks aside, nudging at him more insistently.

"Was right here," he breathes, low and rough and into Neil's ear. "Could've been right where you're standing."

Cheek pressed against the rocks, scrambling to find a handhold, my eyes flutter shut and I groan. Loud and long and completely unbridled, but under the roar of the water, it's practically silent. I get a flash of it, them moving together here behind the falls, and the flash of want -- fucking need that comes along with it is so strong I feel almost lightheaded.

"When?" I breathe out. I know bits and pieces of the timeframe, how they got together, but I want details. When, what time of day, what did Mike's face look like. What did Tom sound like when he came? All of it's this dirty little porno that cranks on in my head... like I wasn't turned on enough already.

"Summer, last year," he murmurs, pressing his teasing finger just inside, grateful for the wetness but guessing it won't be slippery enough. For now, though, he doesn't care; just one finger and he knows Neil can take it, and he closes his other hand over Neil's hip and holds him there. "It was a hot afternoon, I remember..." How good the water had felt, diving in, how it had soothed the residual pain in his healing leg. Tom, warm and wet and sliding against him.

"Jerked both of us off. Like you and me." His finger shoves deeper, up past the first knuckle and twisting slightly, and for an instant his smile softens and he feels an ache in his chest, Tom and Neil and the thread running between the two of them and joining all three.

He wrenches the next moan out of me, my head dropping back onto his shoulder, lifting a hand to hook around the back of his neck. Where I felt chilled only a few moments ago, now I feel overheated, the water on my skin mixing with the fine sheen of sweat already collecting on my skin.

Not so long ago, after everything had already fallen to pieces, I fucked Logan here under the falls, hidden in the darkness long after sunset. I think maybe I guilt tripped him into it, desperate and stupid, at the end of my fucking rope, and now it's just another memory of all the fucked up shit that's happened in this very spot over the last two years. Botched weddings and breakups. Fights and fucking tears.

I twist around just enough to see Mike's face and I don't think I've ever loved him more fiercely than I do right now. I didn't really know that something could feel this right without having to force it to be.

Edited 2008-09-24 04:41 (UTC)

When his eyes catch Neil's his breath leaves him entirely for a second or two. What he sees there... it's like a mirror reflection of what he feels, but seeing on Neil's face stuns him. Everything there he wants to hold onto and protect, nurture, even as his hands are rough with him. He lets out a tiny shuddering sigh, leans in and catches Neil's mouth in a kiss that's gentle and almost out of place in context.

"Fucked me right here," he breathes when he pulls back again, glances up and he sees the fern, a little green tendril clinging to the rock. "Just like this." And he adds a second finger to the first, pushing in hard and feeling Neil's muscles strain and start to give.

Shuddering, there's a moment that my body takes over and resists, tensing up involuntarily, but the sharp stab of pain fades almost like it wasn't there at all, just a slow burn left behind that isn't all unpleasant. The gentleness of that kiss and the rough pressure of his hands... its almost too much to process. Sensory overload, and it's all I can do just to hang on.

"Just like this?" I manage to smirk at him over my shoulder. I can pick out all the differences, the sharp contrast between how Tom fucks and how Mike does, each one fucking amazing in their own way.

He laughs, low and rough, pressing deeper and digging his fingertips a little harder into Neil's hip. "Maybe not exactly like this," he murmurs, nipping at the lobe of Neil's ear, the slight curve of his shoulder. "He asked me if I was ready, for one thing." In a fraction of a second he slides his fingers out and then he's spitting into his hand, slicking himself as best he can, lining himself up and forward and in with a strained groan.

Not that he doubts that Neil's ready. But it's the principle of the thing.

"Like you even need to ask," I breathe out, a low whine seeping out, catching behind suddenly clinched teeth. I go still for a moment, maybe two, then I'm pressing back against him, meeting that first solid stroke with full force. Its enough that goddamn stars spangle behind eyelids I didn't even know had closed.

"Fuck."

He thrusts in deep, deep as he can, just rests there for a moment and waits for his head to stop spinning, head dropped with his lips pressed against Neil's shoulder. One arm slips around his middle and pulls them closer together, the other finds Neil's on the rock and closes over it, threading their fingers together. This is always a different kind of close, close like someone with their hand buried in your guts.

"Neil," he whispers, half mindless and reflexive, lips moving against wet skin. Then he rolls his hips back and in again and his breath catches. "Christ, you're... so good, Jesus."

Fingers curling over his, my other hand's still hooked around his nape, slipping up into the damp ends of his hair and my head lolling on his shoulder. Body in this loose, arching s-curve, and I hardly even feel like my feet are touching the ground. Out in the open, there's no urge to hide or cover up. Splayed out in the open air with him inside me and I feel like I've got nothing to hide.

Maybe I'll feel differently if a fucking patrol officer wanders by and tries to cart us in for very public fucking, but... you know, whatever.

"You're doin' all the work," I murmur lightly, but it'd sound much more like a tease if there wasn't that moan all tangled up with it.

He manages another breathless laugh, thrusting harder and deeper with his fingertips skating low over Neil's belly, still finding the will to tease. "You complaining?" The last syllable is lost in another moan, stuttering his breath as he cranes his head and scatters kisses down the line of Neil's neck.

"And fucking you is... such a goddamn chore."