forthedog | (no subject)

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."

"You poor thing," I murmur, grinning blearily, but then he's hitting something in me just right and my breath hitches, fingers clinching around his almost convulsively at the sudden lightening bolt of flaring heat. "Shit..." I thrust back, as hard as I can without teetering both of us over, a rough growl of a moan working its way out from deep in my chest.

"Never do this again, it's fuckin' horrible," I say with a gasping stream of laughter, head tipped to the side, neck stretched out in simple offering.

"Never again," he manages, still half laughing, skin slapping hard against skin as he pounds forward, and at some point the kisses at Neil's neck turn to bites, gentle and then not so gentle, and his hand dips down to find Neil's dick, fingers curling firm around it and stroking.

He can feel everything heightened, everything more intense as his nerves rev up to a crescendo of sensation, the sun warm at his back, cool drops splashing onto his skin from the falls and the breeze drying them. The rock rough and wet under his feet, Neil sliding against him, hot and slick and perfect. He doesn't have enough blood left in his head to be able to think much of anything, but somehow he's grateful, that he's here, that he has this, that it's better than he could have ever imagined.

"Better be fuckin' lying," I manage, and by now nearly all my weight's resting on him, only one hand still on the wall for leverage. My eyes flicker open, catching a swirl of refracted light, water droplets clinging to the rocks and practically shimmering. There's a fleck of something on the back of his hand, a leaf or a tiny pebble, his skin gone white around the knuckles from curling around my own fingers so hard. I focus on all these things, on the clean smell of the air and the harsh pant of his breath in my ear, and then I'm coming and everything explodes.

He gasps as he feels Neil start to tighten around him, that tension spreading everywhere and then releasing into a wave of shaking and a warm gush over his hand. He shoves him bodily through it, not pausing for a second but plunging on, arm tight around him, and it might be minutes or only seconds later when he feels himself start to let go, a clench and a gentle, warm explosion, shuddering through his muscles and pushing a moan out through his throat.

"Jesus," he breathes against Neil's shoulder, when he can say anything at all again.

"No, the name's Neil," I pant, laughing hoarsely, upper body slumping forward against the rocks, face buried in the crook of my arm. My skin buzzes, head to toe, and even under the cool spray, I feel warm all over, starting just beneath my breastbone and radiating out.

"And you're so fucking funny," he groans, shifting against him but unwilling to pull away immediately. He slides his hand lightly up Neil's side, fingers still slippery with come, not that it matters. It'll all come off in the water.

He leans down, presses a kiss to the side of Neil's neck, just over a faint mark his teeth had left, already fading. "Love you."

"How's that for romance," I murmur, cracking one eye open and twisting just enough to flash him a playful grin over my shoulder. With the move, his cock shifts, sending little aftershock sparks along my overstimulated nerves and I hum low in my throat, shivering faintly under that light brush of his fingers.

"Told you," he says, finally shifting back and away with a quiet sound, hands still on Neil's hips. "Hobbes does the romance. Not my gig." He grins then as his heels touch the edge and an idea comes to him, and his hands close a little tighter on Neil's body.

"Like, this isn't fucking romantic at all," he says, and lets himself fall backward into the water, pulling Neil with him.

Well, fuck.

There's a moment where I think maybe I won't fall, maybe by force of will I'll stay on my feet, but he drags me down like an anchor at my back. I go over the edge with a shout, and after one moment of weightlessness, just long enough to drag in a lungful of breath, the water closes over my head and the whole world's knocked off its axis.

Fucking free fall, all over again.

Edited 2008-09-24 21:25 (UTC)