forthedog | (no subject)

Entry tags:

darrow,
neil

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"Yeah, that might be something to look into, then." But it comes out vague, distracted, because his body's attention has been drifting elsewhere for the last ten minutes or so and now that attention is focusing. Hardening.

He arches back against the downward press of Neil's hips with a quiet sound, freshly thankful for the time.

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"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."

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