forthedog | (no subject)

Just like that, something shifts, the two of us coming to the same unspoken conclusion. Sitting back, I strip the shirt off of my head, tossing it blindly over my shoulder, my hips rolling to press the half-hard line of my dick against his ass.

He's warm and relaxed under me, and we've got the time to go slow. It's a rare sorta luxury and I plan to take advantage.

The sound is a little lower, a little rougher, at the sensation of skin on skin, and for the first time it occurs to him that this might be a little uncomfortable unless Neil really is extremely careful.

Good.

He presses back again, not quite in a rhythm, but heading in that direction.

Raising myself up off of him, I tug at the waistband of his jeans, murmuring, "Lift up," so I can wedge my hand under him and get at his fly. With my other hand, I'm already working mine open, reaching a hand through the open V to palm at my dick.

As he's been doing this whole time, he obeys without hesitating, not moving his hands from where they are but instead letting Neil do what he wants. Waiting to be instructed. Even eager. He wonders sometimes how much of this is really to do with what he'd done at first, his horrifying grabs for some kind of control, and this is not penance but a choice he's made.

"Please," he breathes, groping for Neil's hip.

Shoving his jeans down around his thighs, I shift off of him enough to strip out of my own, my hand moving over my dick, and then I lean over him, teeth sinking into the swell of one ass cheek.

"Be fuckin' patient," I say, grinning against the small of his back, lips pressing low on his spine.

"You say that like I could." He lets out another sound like a groan, low and rough, aching with need. He rolls his hips up again, lying spread open, gasping when he feels teeth against his own meat. He's needy now, yes. Needier than really permits dignity, but it's not like he places a real high value on dignity anyway.

"God, could you just... be fucking me now?"

Rumbling out another laugh, I lean over him to yank open the drawer by the bed, fingers closing around the tube of lube and my hips flush against him, my dick sliding along the crack of his ass.

"When'd you get so fuckin' needy?" I ask, popping the cap in the lube and letting some drip messily right over his tailbone. Dragging my fingers through it, I slide two into him without much build-up, making quick work of getting him as ready as he can stand.

He kicks the last of his pants away and then goes pliant again, bracing himself against the mattress. He gasps as the lube drips cold onto his skin, then the gasp sharpens into a hard whine as Neil works him open, somehow caught between gentle and relentless. His fists clench in the sheets, legs drawing up to spread himself wider.

"I need you," he pants, not quite laughing. "Sorry if that's a problem."

"It's not a problem," I say, stretching him open with two fingers, and then three, watching them slide in and out of him as I smear a little of the extra lube over my dick.

Shifting up behind him, I pull my hand free and curl it around my dick, the other hand slipping up into his hair, pressing his head down against the mattress as I push the head of my dick into him. It's one easy push, steady until I bottom out, the breath caught tight in my chest.

"Jesus, Mike."

A low, rough cry rips out of him, half muffled by the mattress, his knees slipping briefly on the sheets before he manages to push himself up again. Neil is deep and he feels impaled; something about this will always make him feel gently pulled apart, sweetly powerless.

"God..."

Hands splayed on his hipbones, I pull back, just to the head, my chin tipped toward my chest to watch the stretch-slide of my dick moving in him. "Jesus," I say again, holding him still as I thrust back in, achingly slow.

"This what you wanted?"

It's perfect, deep and inch by inch, and he knows later it'll probably be hard and fast and that's perfect too, but right now this is everything. He arches his back and laughs, a deep rumble in his chest.

"That's the stupidest fucking question I heard all day."

Snapping my hips forward, I say, "Oh yeah? The stupidest? You know, you oughta try bein' fuckin' nicer to me."

I still my hips, watching his chest expand with each breath, sweat starting to bead up on the nape of his neck. Leaning forward, I swipe it away with my tongue, teeth grazing the knob at the top of his spine.

He lets out a sharp breath as Neil thrusts hard into him, stilling when he does, braced up on both hands with his arms trembling. Neil's tongue swipes across his skin and he moans, low and thick, freshly conscious of his own cock hanging swollen and heavy between his thighs.

"Fuck you. I'm... plenty nice."

"Really?" I laugh, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in, slow and easy, just to watch the muscles in his back tremble.

"I dunno, I guess you are. I wonder when the fuck you turned into a nice guy?"

He laughs again, shuddering and pushing back against the pressure of Neil's hands in an easy, slow roll. Something is shifting again. He could stay here and stay loose and compliant, let Neil manhandle him, and it's not an unpleasant prospect. Not when it's this hard and deep and slow.

Or.

Shoving himself up suddenly with his hands, he throws his weight backward, Neil sliding out of him with an abruptness that makes him gasp, along with the burn of the tattoo. But he doesn't care. In another second he has Neil on his back, straddling him, reaching back to curl his fingers around Neil's lube-slick cock.

"Maybe I'm not that fucking nice after all," he breathes, lifts slightly and lowers down again, impaling himself.

His head drops back, eyes squeezed shut and his face contorting into a grimace. "Holy shit."

The fuckin' asshole. I'm almost angry at him, blinking dizzily up at him, suddenly on my back when I was enjoying the moment of control, but then he's sinking back down onto my dick, and I can't remember why this wasn't always exactly what I wanted in the first place.

"Fffffffffffffuck," I groan, my hands clamped tight on his hips, thrusting my cock deep into him with an arch of my back.

He laughs and it falls out of him like his moans, totally free as he braces himself back with a hand on Neil's thigh, head loose between his shoulders. His hips are rolling to meet Neil's thrusts, more a hard grind than anything else, and the truth is that Neil is still mostly the one with the power here. He'd give over completely if ordered to.

Now, though.

"Jesus Christ," I laugh, looking up at him a little wide-eyed and my mouth hanging open stupidly, but I'll never really get used to what he looks like, from this angle. Feet planted flat on the bed for leverage, I hold his hips steady and thrusting hard and fast, wanting to watch-- to hear him come apart.

We've got an empty apartment for another two hours, and I plan to take full advantage.

The sounds he's making are getting rougher, the movement of his hips more frantic, and he gropes at his own cock, but it's getting hard to know where to put his focus with Neil's dick pounding up into him and his back stinging with the sweat trickling down between his shoulderblades.

"God, Neil." It comes out between clenched teeth, sounding almost pained. "I'm... fucking close."

"That's the idea," I pant, holding so tight to his hips that my hands are starting to ache. I want there to be bruises, but that's nothing new. We're both so deep under each other's skin, now, we really don't even need to bother, but after all these years, seeing the shape of my hands or my teeth on his skin hasn't gotten old.

He wants more. Hours of it. And maybe that might happen, at least a little more before the girls have to be collected, but right now all he's focusing on is that crest he's reaching, stroking himself closer to it, being fucked into it.

"Oh, fuck," he sobs, and spills onto Neil's belly with a hard groan, dick clenched tight in his own fist with his other hand in the center of Neil's chest. He feels a heartbeat thudding wildly but he's not even sure whose it is.

When he comes, I slow down enough to really feel the clinch of him around my dick. Then, I focus on getting myself past that last crest, coming with a low, shuddering groan with my eyes still open and watching the way his throat's working while he catches his breath.

"God," I say, pulling him down against me, my face buried in the crook of his neck and my dick still in him and going limp.

He goes without any resistance, their skin instantly glued together with sweat and come, and he lets out a shuddering breath, lips brushing Neil's ear. "Yeah." He shifts slightly, letting Neil slide out of him, but any other movement feels mostly beyond him.

"So that was pretty fucking perfect."