Exchanges in the Morning (Sean/Karl)
Dec. 28th, 2005 09:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlOOC note: takes place Christmas morning, the morning after this.
I open my eyes and see that it's still dark outside, and I'm disoriented for a moment, wondering why I'm awake. But then fingers twitch on my ribs again, tickling slightly and I remember. Sean. Still in bed with me, and I turn my head, and he's there, a bulky shape in the darkness of the room. I can just barely see his eyes moving under his eyelids and I guess he's dreaming, and I'm hoping it's a good one if it involves his hands moving and I remember his hands moving last night, and fuck, I'm aching for him again.
I wonder if he'd appreciate my hard-on as an early Christmas present, but it's not even dawn yet and he looks so peaceful. I roll over and pull him closer, smiling against his sunny hair. Aunt June had pretended like she didn't know who he was, despite her threats when I called her. Treated him like any other ex-pat Brit living in Zid. And went to bed early.
And now, somehow, despite us still not talking about what we expect from each other, I can't fret about it anymore. He knows the worst thing about me, and it doesn't bother him. Whatever this is that we've got, it's something good, something peaceful and comfortable, in between times of almost uncontrollable lust. I'll just let it be, let us be, take whatever this is without worry or fear.
Warm and content, I slide back into sleep.
Sean: My eyes slide open slowly, and coming awake I can’t recall not wanting to move more than I do right now. Arms are around me, keeping me in place as I draw in a slow breath of morning air, and for a while I stay still, just listening to your even breathing, just resting in your warmth. Finally though, I move, but only enough to look up at you. Your dark hair a contrast against the pillow, your eyes closed, lips slightly parted and bloody hell, you’re gorgeous. The sky outside the window is filling up with light, will be spilling inside your bedroom again and already, barely up and awake, and I want you.
I wonder if you’ve any idea how fucking hot you are, how good you made it, yesterday. I think of the secret you shared, my hand smoothing over your chest. I drop a kiss just above your nipple, almost reverently, lips barely brushing your skin. Drifting up, I flick my tongue in the hollow of your throat and wait . . . it’s Christmas morning, right?
Drawing back with a smile, my hands gliding over your skin, I wonder how long you’ll sleep under my teasing touch. Glancing over my shoulder, I wonder too, where the present I got you ended up. We eventually got up last night and fetched my bag from the car, think your gift came in as well, but hell, most of my memories of yesterday are of you bathed in sunlight with that look in your eyes that takes me right apart. Still smiling, I brush another kiss against your chest. I want you, but I can wait and christ, what a brilliant holiday this is shaping up to be.
Karl: The tickle is back again and I wonder what you're dreaming about now, as I come awake. I open my eyes and realise the sun is coming up and there's another sweep of warmth over my chest. I drop my eyes and see that the sensation isn't coming from your unconscious movements while you're sleeping. For a moment, I stay still watching you, luxuriating in the knowledge that we don't have to do a bloody thing today if we don't want, neither of us has any place we need to be this time. This time, I can enjoy waking up with you, instead of dashing out the door. And if we want, we can stay in bed all day, and I find that incredibly appealing.
By now you have to have noticed that part of my body is definitely awake and responding to you in the usual way. Your tongue flicks over my nipple again and I can't help the moan that escapes. And I can't help the way my body moves involuntarily under your touch. You raise your head, looking a little startled, and I shrug and smile. What can I say . . . you're dead sexy and I'm fully functional.
"Morning." I stroke my hands up your back and cup your head, wanting to taste you again. I think vaguely of toothpaste, but fuck it, who cares. Not when your mouth is so deliciously hot and your tongue tangles with mine.
I'm grinning when we pull apart. "It's good like this . . . waking up like this. Thank you." This is a fucking huge improvement over last Christmas, hell over just about any Christmas I can remember for a long time.
Sean: My mouth is worrying your nipple gently when you move suddenly under me. Looking up in surprise, I answer your smile with a grin, having been caught out with teasing you awake. Your voice is rough with sleep, and sends a rush of warmth over me, through me, with just that one word, morning. The warmth is fast becoming heat, pooling in my belly as your touch on my hair gets me moving, practically climbing up you, and fuck, your mouth is just as hot as I remember.
That grin is doing things to me, brilliant things, and so are your words, and I can’t agree more with them. “Yeah,” I say, letting my hand smooth down your chest. I look into your eyes as my fingers stroke gently, low on your belly. “Feel like I should be saying the same, but you’re welcome.” My hand slides lower, just shy of touching your cock, teasing you lightly.
“Feel like I should be the one saying thank you,” I say, voice pitched low, nearly whispering, “because you feel so fucking good.”
I reach down and wrap my fingers around your very awake cock, and leaning in, slant my mouth over yours, begin stoking your hardening cock in pace with my tongue sliding against yours. I break away, heart already pounding, and with a slow smile slide down your body, my eyes never leaving yours. “Haven’t had you in my mouth, yet, want to taste you.”
I don’t even realize I’ve said the words aloud until you rock under me.
Karl: Your wandering hands are distracting me, your mouth on mine waking me up completely. You tease me, not touching me where I want, need you to and I make a pleading noise against your tongue. Fuck, what have you done to me that I'm practically begging for your touch? When your hand finally encloses my dick, I make a growling satisfied sound into your mouth.
Just watching your hands turns me on, and now they're around me, stroking me, and it feels so good. "Fuck, you've got sexy hands." And I arch myself into your touch.
You want to taste me? Oh, please, please do that and I'm squirming under you and gasping as the heat of your mouth surrounds me. Fuck, your tongue is doing beautiful things to my cock, and I grab the sheets, wanting to hold on to something, anything, because if I grabbed your head, I'm afraid I'd choke you. And you keep moving your hands around, and bloody hell, just knowing those wonderful long fingers are roaming over me has me groaning and muttering, and I'm not even sure what I'm saying anymore. Please. I fight the urge to jam myself into your mouth. More. Ragged demands which I'm can't tell whether they make any sense.
But your steady sucking and flickering tongue are undoing me, and if you've any idea of stopping short, now would be the time. "Sean!" I cry in warning.
Sean: I relax my throat, taking you in as deep as I can without choking, and fuck, but you taste good. My hands skim up and down your spread thighs, smooth over your hips and the flat firm muscles of your belly, dipping into your navel and then start the wandering route all over again. You’re swinging between growls and pleas and bloody hell, I’m hard enough to cut glass from just your noises.
My hands settle on you hips, gripping them as you thrust, holding you where I want you as you fall to pieces, your hands clenching the sheets. My lips are stretched tight around your cock, taking it, over and over, tongue swirling about and I suck you harder, wanting to have you pump your come down my throat as badly as I wanted you to fuck me yesterday. You’re close but holding back, hips rocking into me and hell, want you to use me, fuck my mouth as hard as you need to.
Looking up, I get my eyes on you as I bob on your cock, and christ, so gorgeous you are, rocking and straining, eyes gone dark. You cry out, and fuck yeah, am going to have your come soon, I think. Reaching out with one hand, keeping the other curled around your hipbone I pull your hand from the sheets, drawing it to the back of my head, trying to tell you you can have it however you need it.
Christ, your fingers sink into my hair, thrusts speeding up and you feel bloody marvelous. You’re working so hard, bucking up into me and with both hands gripping your hips again, I take you deep, sucking, humming, wanting.
Karl: Oh fucking hell. Your mouth is too good, your hands are too good, you doing all this to me is too much, and fuck, when you start humming I fall completely apart, losing it into the silky heat of your mouth. I shout your name again and my convulsing muscles pull me up off the bed. I hold your head down into my lap while you take everything I've got to give you. You keep sucking on me and it's not stopping, you're dragging more and more out of me, pleasure unending.
My whole body feels like it's buzzing, over-sensitised by what you're doing to me. But at last I relax back down onto the bed, putting a hand over my eyes, wondering if I hurt you, if I made a fool of myself, wondering why the fuck I can't seem to restrain myself around you. You ease your mouth off of me and rest your head on my thigh. I finally look at you, lying there watching me, but your eyes are full of warmth and I smile at you. I smile all the bloody time around you, it seems, but I guess that's a good thing.
I pull you up to find your mouth, enjoying the taste of me on your tongue. We kiss for long minutes and I sigh into your mouth, happy to kiss you for hours. But your erection is pressing against my leg and I pull back at last, staring into your green eyes, my thumb tracing your cheekbone. I remember your words and I question whether I have the courage to give them back to you, but the warmth I see when I look at you gives me my answer.
"Sean," I breathe against your lips. Then I look into your eyes again, letting you see, "Anything you want . . . just take it. Anything, all yours." And fuck yeah, I have the courage for that, fuck yeah, I want that, want you taking anything and everything.
Sean: My throat works as around your cock as you pump hot and hard into me, my hands gripping tight as you bow up off the bed. I keep sucking, milking you for every drop, not wanting to let go, but at last I do, letting you slip from my mouth. I lay against you, my cock throbbing and I’m filled with both need for you and a deep satisfaction, all at once. Whatever happens next, I won’t last long, not with your taste in my mouth, warm in my belly.
You smile at me, pull me up for a kiss and fuck, you feel brilliant. Breaking apart, I look into your eyes, am fairly shaking with desire and I lean into your touch on my cheek. Your words, fucking hell, has me rocking against you, eyes sliding shut, it takes a long moment before I can look back at you without losing it.
Breathing out shakily, I brush my lips over yours. Carding my fingers through your hair, I slide against you, gasping softly as my cock glides over your hip. I bury my face in your neck, just breathing for a moment, then leaning up look into your eyes.
“Want to fuck you,” I growl, my hand going again to your hair, stroking it back, “but when I take you, want us to get off, together, don’t think I can wait for you now, too bloody close from you fucking my mouth . . . ” My hand drops away, finds yours, pulls it up to my lips. Gazing into you, I lick all along your palm and fingers, getting you wet.
Guiding your hand to my cock, I moan as your slick fingers wrap around my aching shaft. Compelled by lust and need, I push you down against the bed and use your hand, your heat, fucking myself hard on you and I don’t care if it’s a rather awkward angle for you, or if my weight is crushing you. My eyes fall shut and I moan, pistoning my hips against you, chasing my release that’s so close, poised to slam through me.
“So fuckin’ hot . . . god, Karl!
Karl: Those words in your roughly accented voice do something to my guts, tightening and clenching my insides, and I want that, exactly as you described it, more than I can say. I nod in agreement, then my breath huffs out as you start licking my fingers. Fucking hell, I think I'm gonna spend all my holidays in bed with you in the sensual daze you seem to keep me in.
Your cock feels so good in my hand, and I can't get enough of the satiny feel of your skin, soft and smooth there. And your weight on me feels fucking outstanding, want you pinning me down like this. Maybe sometime I'll get a chance to explore you, to find out what you like in a hand job, but you're driving yourself into the circle of my fingers and all I can do is try to keep the pressure steady for you, not too little and not too much.
I take my other hand and rest it lightly on your ass, not squeezing, just feeling your muscles working. I watch your face, watch the way your eyes flare as each pulse of pleasure zings through you. And that fucking deadly tongue of yours, licking your lips, fuck you had me without ever touching me when I realised I was fantasizing about your tongue.
"Let go," I say, when you yelp out my name. And you do, your muscles going rigid, standing out over your body, your delicious come spurting out, and my hand suddenly slips over you easily. I move my hand from your back to your face, smoothing the sweaty hair out of your eyes, murmuring, "Beautiful" and other nonsense while you come back down.
Sean: I’m riding your hand, working hard when your words, your hot touch, your eyes intent on mine trigger something in me, and I’m falling, coming, arching into you, body drawn tense as I pulse all over your fingers. The pleasure grabs me up and I’m lost to it, and then, a moment or an hour might have passed but slowly I become aware of your murmured words, your hand in my hair.
I collapse on you, no other word for it, and just lay draped over you as the aftershocks fade away. Finally, I shift, sliding off but keeping myself pressed close and fuck, you must think me a leech by now, but I don’t see any reason to be away from your warmth unless I have to. The thought is enough to get me wondering if you’d like to just lounge all day in bed, though, it is Christmas, and maybe you have things you want to do . . . but it’s been a long time since I’ve spent all day under the covers with my lover.
My lover, christ, yeah, that’s what you are. Can’t be anything else, not when you have the power to draw such need and desire out of me, can’t be anything else, not when I feel as if it’s . . . safe to want more. You do that, somehow.
I press a kiss to the point of your shoulder and fuck, but we’re going to have to talk about some things, sooner or later, but there’s a brilliant, heavy warmth curling through me now, and despite its lure I don’t quite feel like sleeping again so soon. Easing up on one elbow, I trail my fingers down your chest, not even trying to pull back my grin, my gaze moving over you laid out by my side.
“Fucking brilliant, that was,” I say, my hand smoothing over your ribs, settling at your waist. “Going to have to work hard to get me out of your bed today, I suspect.”
Karl: I'm starting to really like having you use me for a pillow. Puts you in perfect position for my hands to drift up and down your back, my fingertips recording the sensation of your skin under them, learning every inch of you. Can't seem to stop moving my hands over you, but it's not urgent, just a friendly sort of reassuring touch.
But I snicker, moving my fingers around to your front, tickling now. "I'd keep you in bed all the time, but I'm afraid of the wrath of your belly. I'll have to feed the beast sometime."
I'm laughing aloud now, and fuck, if it doesn't feel almost as good as fucking you. Laying here naked with you, nowhere to go and nothing to do but touch you all I want, making jokes with you, feels so good on so many levels.
"We keep it pretty low key around here today, tomorrow though, that's when we party, Boxing Day bonfire, hakas, that sort of thing. I'll have to get up some time and give Aunt June her things, but other than that, I'm all yours."
Rolling us over suddenly, I pin you under me, kissing you, licking and nuzzling you, mock growling in your ear. Don't know why the fuck I'm feeling so playful all of a sudden. Shit, it suddenly dawns on me that I'm happy.
Raising my head, I'm still smiling, but settled down some. "Happy Christmas, Sean."
Sean: You’re brilliant, and I’m ridiculously at home with being held under you, your playful lips nuzzling my skin, your voice warm in my ear. You draw back, and a new warmth takes me, starting deep inside at the expression in your eyes, your words. My fingers find their way into your hair, stroking it back gently. “Happy Christmas to you, too.”
We just lay a long moment, looking and smiling. “Thank you for having me.” I finally say, and the self-satisfied grin curving your lips has me chuckling. “That’s not what I mean, smug bastard.”
You’re laughing, chest rumbling against mine and I’m so grateful to be here in your arms, sharing this. I think I need you to know that, and the way you’re able to pull the words out of me without even trying is amazing.
“This has been so fucking good, want you to know how glad I am to be here with you.” My face is warm now and I shut up, content to have you pressing down on me, and christ, it won’t be long before I’m up and running again. My arms circle around you, holding you tight. “Fuck, but you feel good.”
Your lips meet mine and the kiss is hot, deep, your tongue sliding into me and I groan into your mouth as you take your fill, letting you know without words just what you do to me. Breaking apart we’re both breathing a little fast, my hands slide up your spine, come to rest against your shoulder blades.
“You know, I’ve something for you,” I say, grinning again at the look in your eyes, suspecting I know exactly what you’re thinking. “Something aside from that, though,” and suddenly we both fall very still, “that’s yours too, when you want it.”
Now I’m the one grinning.
Karl: I can't decide whether to go with the grin or the heat. Fuck, that's the thing that gets to me about you, that has surprised me so much, turned everything upside down. That there's both. And we slide from one to another and back again without hesitation.
My lips are still just a breath away from yours. "I'm glad you came, too." But you snort and I drop my head down, laughing. "Fuck, it doesn't stop. Couple of hard cases, we are." I roll to the side and look at you. "I'm glad you're here, glad we started this. It's fucking brilliant."
My stomach is starting to warn me, so I offer, "I got a present for you, too. Although anything else you want is yours for the taking." I leer at you. "But I left it downstairs, cause, well . . . " I shrug. "Wasn't sure, like I said. But I can go get it and some kai for us. Could stay in bed longer that way, I'd like that."
I pull on some trackie bottoms and go downstairs quietly, wondering if we woke Aunt June. But there's no sign of her, just a carafe of coffee on the bench and some sort of pastry thing. I get a tray, cutting up the pastry, finding a bowl of fruit in the fridge and getting some of that, too. Plates, mugs, silver. Fuck, I hope that's it as I balance the tray on the wrapped package. Halfway up the stairs I remember that the Englishman in my bed might prefer tea. My bed. That thought makes me warm all over again, and I hope that I get lots of chances to learn what you like at breakfast. And I'm grinning again when I walk back in the room.
Sean: Settling against the pillows, I watch you go, just enjoying the way you move. Once you’re downstairs I ease out of bed, stretching, and good thing you’re not here to see the loopy smile on my face as certain well worked muscles twinge. Rubbing a hand through my hair, I cast about, spotting my bag on the floor near the door.
Pushing the sheets aside I slide out of bed, crossing to my bag and letting back the zipper, I reach inside, pulling out a package wrapped in stiff, green and gold paper, and dammit, the ribbon’s fallen off. Spending a few moments feeling rather ridiculous, rifling through my gear in the buff, I give up, deciding you don’t need the decoration when you’re just going to tear it off anyway.
Dropping the gift on the bed, I slide back under the sheets. Stretching out, I settle back on your pillows, waiting. It’s not until I hear you on the stairs that the anticipation bolts through me, and fuck, maybe I’ve gone completely daft, but I hope you like what I have for you. If you don’t, well, I’ve learned a few ways over the last day and night how to distract you. Am looking forward to learning even more.
You enter the room, carrying a loaded tray and a smile and something else bolts through me, something that’s just as warm and potent as desire, but isn’t tied to lust or want . . . been a while since I’ve been served breakfast in bed, and now I’m grinning up at you.
“You must be lookin’ to have me keep me strength up then, yeah?” I joke, but I’m already reaching for the pastry as you set the tray down. “Good idea, that.”
Then all joking aside, I add sincerely, looking into your eyes, “Thanks Karl, this is brilliant.”
Karl: I can't help but notice the package on the bed, but you're reaching for food, so I guess that answers the question of food or presents first. I'm very curious, but I resist the impulse to pounce on it. I put yours on the table and drop my pants again, no longer worried about being naked around you. Seems natural now.
Keep your strength up . . . abruptly I have the image of you deep inside me, filling me. Fuck. Grabbing the mugs, I pour us both some coffee and then dish out the fruit. Sometimes I wish males weren't cursed with mood indicators. But I turn it into a joke. "It seems you're going to need all the strength you can get."
We laze on the bed, eating quietly, while I rest my leg against yours, wanting to stay touching you all the time. But inside I'm fidgety, worrying about the gift I got you. Eventually I can't stand the suspense and I jump up and get it, the bed sagging slightly under the weight of the books.
"These are for you. Was thinking about you the whole fucking time you were gone." And I can suddenly say what I should have told you yesterday. "Missed you."
The gift is four over-sized separate leather-bound editions of some Shakespeare plays, the ones with supernatural elements. Hamlet, and The Tempest, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Macbeth. All his most popular plays, clichés there, and I wince. And Macbeth, fuck, you probably have more copies of that than you need. But they'd been illustrated by Arthur Rackham and each of the plays is filled with full-colour paintings and line drawings. Titania and her court and Ophelia going mad and Macbeth meeting the witches and Ariel teasing Caliban.
I remembered how well you used what came to hand to decorate your house and how you so quickly found a design that would work for my herbs. I wondered if you'd appreciate the sinuous fantastical paintings and I hope you're as much of an artist as you seem to be.
Sean: You’re smiling, painted in morning sunlight, cock already half hard and fuck, it’s an effort to keep my hands off you. Joking, you dole out the fruit and coffee and I relax into the moment, just enjoying watching you. There’s no hurry. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I, we’ve all day.
We take breakfast lying together, touching, like it’s something we’ve done a hundred times before. I’m polishing off my coffee as you climb from the bed, going for the gift I’ve been wondering about but was trying not to let on that I was wondering about. The bed dips a bit as you set it down and my fingers are already tugging, tearing the paper, and then your words. Christ.
I pause, gift half opened, and just breathe, and then I’m smiling. “Missed you, too. Thought about our night, about you . . . couldn’t get you out of me head.”
We’re both grinning, and god, what a pair. Chuckling, I get back to work on my present. It only takes a few more tugs and then I’m pulling them out, beautiful leather bound volumes of Shakespeare. My eyes go wide as my grin as I get Macbeth open, leafing carefully through the pages, running my fingers lightly over the captivating illustrations.
“Gorgeous, just, bloody gorgeous, Karl . . . come’re.” Fingers sliding into your hair I pull you close. The kiss goes hot and slow, smolders as I take my time in thanking you for your thoughtfulness, making sure to tongue every corner of your incredible mouth. Finally, I pull back but only so far as to brush my lips, side to side, over yours.
“Thank you,” I breathe against your lips. Fuck, I want you, but first . . . licking your taste off my lips, I lean back, reaching for your present.
“Your turn.”
Karl: Your tongue invades me, as you pull me closer and I'm having trouble breathing by the time you pull away. And I'm wondering if I'm about to get what I really want for Christmas, but then it's time for my present. I'm relieved that you like yours.
I tear at the paper and my fingers slow as I open the box. The scent of the leather catches me first, and I inhale it. I pick it up, black and supple, the skin so finely worked, my hands can't stop touching the vest, roaming over the lacing, over the sleek leather.
"Bloody hell, Sean." I can't breathe again, stunned by the gift, by your courage, thrilled beyond words that you bought this for me. I bury my face against the soft leather. "Fuck. Fucking beautiful." Beautiful . . . and you got it for me.
Raising my head, knowing my eyes are still stunned, I whisper, "Thank you. Help me put it on?"
Your hands on me as we get the vest over my shoulders are setting up an aching in me. When it is snapped on, it fits perfectly, the silk soft on my skin, but the leather hugging every curve of my body, like an embrace. It fits so closely that I could get only the thinnest of silk shirts under it, but it's clear from the cut of it that's how it's meant to fit and the intimacy of that takes my breath away. To know that you see me this way, that you want me this way . . . suddenly all those conversations we've never had don't matter anymore. This vest is answer enough, for now.
I wrap my arms around you, finding your mouth almost blindly, sinking into your kisses, your warmth, my body responding to your touch, my nipples already tight against the silk. And I need you inside me, need you staking your claim on me. And, fuck, when have I ever felt like that?
"Please," I gasp, my body arching against you, trying to get as close to you as possible. "Want you taking me."
Sean: Fuck. Fuck, you’re beautiful, and the hunger and heat is taking me, licking along my limbs like flame. I run my hands over the leather fitted tightly around you, and god, I want you, but even in the midst of the wanting I’m ridiculously pleased that you like my gift so.
Our mouths come together and I taste your need, bright and hot on my tongue before we finally break apart, and fucking hell, you’re rubbing against me, saying please, and in this moment I can deny you nothing. So many things moving inside me, so much happening so fast but it’s the need in your eyes that I see most clearly, a need I have to answer.
I brush my thumb across your lips, slow smile curving my own and christ, I want climb inside you, fuck you slow, hard and deep, watch you fall to pieces under me.
Gently, I push you back on the pillows, nudging your legs apart. You spread for me and I move in, nearly moaning at the sight. I take your mouth again in a hard kiss, a searing moment of tongues and heat, then I’m moving, trailing kisses down your neck, the hollow of your throat. Reaching the vest, I just smile and keep going, mouthing wet kisses against the supple material, biting firmly but gently over your leather covered nipples, careful not to leave a mark on the vest.
I unsnap it, pushing it aside to get at you but not about to get rid of it altogether, and that’s when the words start, breathed out against your skin between kisses, licks and nips.
“Going to get in you, love, bury meself, have you so fucking hard and deep, you’ll think I’m never coming out . . . ”
Kneeling between your legs, I trail my hand down your chest. “So fucking beautiful, lift up for me,” I whisper. You rise up, and I slide a pillow underneath your hips. Getting you settled, gripping your hips firmly I move down, grinning wickedly, craving you. I spend long moments nuzzling your beautiful cock, just inhaling your musk, licking at your moisture, but finally I reluctantly move on, going after something else. Moving lower, spreading your arse with my hands, I press a kiss to your tight hole, then tongue you, gently.
Karl: Oh, yes. Fuck, I want this so badly. Want you pushing me down, want you having me however you want. My body is already rocking under your touch, every part of me aching for you, wanting you touching me everywhere. Oh, hell yes. Leave the vest on while you fuck me, you inside me and your gift wrapped around me.
I seem to be caught up in a storm that you made, a storm of sensation everywhere you're touching me, and my head is whirling from the intensity of it. Then you tell me how's it's gonna be, and it's like your words envelop my cock, bloody hell, you're gonna drive me insane.
You've got me so open and vulnerable to you, and I don't give a shit. Want to give you everything. "Fuck, yes, Sean."
Your mouth is like fire on me, and when your tongue slides hot and wet into me, fuck that wicked tongue that I can't resist, I nearly come off the bed. But I surrender to your touch, wanting you to just take. And you do. Your tongue, gentle and teasing at first, becomes relentless, opening me for you, pulling cries and moans from me, and when you add your fingers, all thought goes.
You've turned me into a mass of nothing but pleasure and I can't do anything . . . don't want to do anything but take what you're giving me, and let you have it all.
"Do it . . . please, want you."
Sean: You cry out when I ease in a finger and your sheer heat gets right inside me, puts down roots, and I pull my tongue out, get my eyes up to watch you buck. Withdrawing my touch, I grab the lube, a condom, quickly slick my finger and push it right back in. So fucking tight you are, but you’re relaxing, can feel it happening. Watching you writher I ease in another finger, and another, until you’re taking three, right up to the knuckle.
I’m trembling, and your words are enough to tip the scales of my desire. Was going to take this slow, but hell, can’t, not when you’re laid out under me, asking for it. I let you buck for a handful of heartbeats on my thrusting fingers, then pull out, rolling on the condom, slicking my cock with shaking hands. I line our bodies up the way it seems they were made to and my hand finds yours, our fingers lacing together as I press you down against the mattress, finding the needed leverage to hold myself over you.
Pressing the head of my cock against your entrance, just on the edge of taking you, I gaze into your dilated eyes, so dark and vulnerable, and manage a rough whisper, “You’ve got me, love.”
I slide home in one slow push, moving into your smooth heat and you’re consuming me, stretched tight around me. Buried balls deep, I fall still, my body sweating, shaking with the effort of holding back, giving you time to adjust. But I have to have you, and growling your name, begin moving, fucking you with hard, claiming thrusts that takes me so deep so fast I’m seeing stars. My fingers are still laced tight with yours, my other hand finding your hip, gripping hard, and you’re pinned, taking my cock and I’m moaning as you meet me, thrust for thrust.
Intense pleasure engulfs me as I ride your amazing heat, glorying in your incredible responsiveness. I pump into you again and again, craving you even as I’m having you, and it’s too good, too much. Am so fucking close already, and I need to watch you go off, first.
“Please, come for me, love . . . give it me now.”
Karl: I need the clasp of your fingers around mine to steady me, cause the feel of you pushing into me is so fucking incredible I nearly lose it right then. The sight of your beautiful body flexing as you sink into me, the concentration on your face, the feeling of your stretching me open for your invasion and then your dick is a hot hard nail pinning me to the bed. Fuck yeah.
You're moving inside me, long hard thrusts, jolting me, sending shocks through me, your belly scraping against my cock. So bloody perfect, exactly what I needed. I plant my feet on the mattress and move with you, our bodies falling into a rhythm that starts me moaning.
Come for me. I lock my eyes with yours and my hand finds my cock. But I don't move yet, knowing it's going to take the slightest touch to set me off. I get lost in the intense green of your eyes and then I finally close my fingers, moving, one stroke . . . two and it hits me, sending my body plunging against you, while your fingers tighten. Your weight is still securing me, keeping me safe while I convulse around you, your cock an inescapable force that's increasing the sensations slamming me.
I'm panting your name as the ripples keep moving, and you're holding me, riding me through it. Your eyes have gone so wide and I feel your body tightening against me and inside me, and I know you must be close. I thread my fingers through your hair, wanting to tell you to come, wanting to tell you to do whatever you want, take whatever you want, but I've got no words right now.
Sean: You come around my cock, arse clenching down about me tight and hard, pulsing, and bloody hell, the sensation is driving me beyond sanity. My fingers tighten around yours, my hand on your hip gripping harder, and I ride you. Ride your heat and your tight, pulsing arse and god, feel so close to you, think I can feel your very heartbeat through my cock.
Can’t imagine wanting more than I want right now, can’t imagine wanting to have anyone else like I’m having you and fuck, the feelings send me slamming into you, thrusts lifting your hips off the pillow. I’m so close to losing it inside you, and the last piece of my thinking mind wishes there was no latex barrier between us, and christ, can’t be thinking about that so soon. Can’t be thinking about pumping my seed into you, of having your hot cock and come filling me, riding me bare.
You’re looking into my eyes and I feel as if you can read every emotion and scrap of thought left in me and god, can’t think of anything but your heat, of you, my gorgeous Karl. My body tightens, desire threading into my veins, shooting up my spine and I abandon myself inside you, just let go, moaning your name and not caring who hears.
Shoving inside one last hard time, going so deep I can’t tell where you end and I begin, my release takes me, and it doesn’t just come, it floods me, fills me up with hard hitting bliss and my cock jumps, throbs inside your arse. When I come back to myself, I’m still sheathed in you, lying draping over your chest, fingers clenched tight around yours, still holding on.
Karl: You've swept me away, taking me with you wherever you're going, and all I can do is hang on to you, thinking you're like some sort of wind that blasted into my life the same way you send pleasure blasting through my body. You're thrusting so deep into me but my body welcomes you, wants everything you're doing to me.
And I hold you while you spill over, wondering how the hell this happened, how the hell you push me so far, but you do it without ever getting my defenses up. I should be fucking terrified of the things you make me feel, but I'm not. I'm still safe with you, and you keep proving it to me. And it feels like time is distorted, like we're caught in this instant with you coming and me holding, and I never want to leave it.
But you relax finally, and I feel as though I had forgotten to breathe the entire time, and suddenly I can inhale again. My hand is clenched in your hair, and I loosen my grip, slowly. Our fingers are still entwined and your body is boneless on me, and I rest my palm between your shoulder blades, feeling your heartbeat gradually steadying. I want to twine my legs with yours, but I don't want to dislodge you, want you to stay inside me as long as possible.
When you pull out, I feel shattered, broken open, until you come back to the bed, and then I can twine around you the way I wanted to, feeling shaky until your arms go around me. I think maybe I surrendered more than my body to you.
I let my lips rest on your shoulder, tasting you sometimes, just wanting your warmth. "Bloody hell, Sean," I mumble. There's more, but I don't know how to say any of what I'm feeling.
Sean: I’m not sure how long we stay joined, letting our heartbeats slow, but finally I push up, easing out. Tugging the condom off and getting rid of it, I can’t get back to you fast enough. Back in bed my eyes slide shut at the whisper soft touch of your lips on my shoulder. Chuckling at your words, I’m going to say something daft, something to make you laugh but then something else takes hold of me, and without even thinking it through, I pull back, looking into your face.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Before you can answer I lean in for a kiss, shaken by the sudden fear that somehow you won’t understand when I’m so sure you must. Brushing my lips over yours, I open to you, arms holding you close as our tongues curl together. Long moments pass before I pull away. I’ve started with the words, and I know I have to finish. So far we’ve not needed them, but I want, need, to be sure we’re headed in the same direction. Been burned before by the not knowing, and christ, don’t want that happening with you.
You’re watching me, and fuck, have never been great at this, but I push on anyway. “I feel so fucking much with you, and I don’t mean just the lovemaking,” I hesitate over the word, but yeah, that’s what it felt like. Was definitely more than bare bones fucking. “I mean I . . . there’s more,” I brush your hair back behind your ear, let my hand smooth down your arm, slip over your side to your hip, fingers tracing random patterns there as if I can explain myself better with touch rather than words.
Your hazel eyes are on me, waiting, drawing the rest out of me. “Christ, Karl, the things you pull out of me just, turns me right round. I want to keep seeing you, after this. I mean, if you . . . ” I trail off, not sure even I know what I’m asking for, but knowing I need it all the same.
“I want more of you,” I finally get out, pressing my face against your shoulder, breathing you in.
Karl: Your touch on me is so reassuring, your fingers wandering over me. The things you're saying to me . . . like you're voicing things I haven't really let myself think about, haven't dared to. And I do feel it, just like you said, there's more.
More of me? I'm beginning to think that whatever you wanted from me, you could just take, and I'd let you. I don't seem able to hold myself back around you. And knowing that you do that to me sometimes makes me so uncomfortable, until you smile at me or touch me, and my panic goes away. Still, I want to tease my way out of this, but your honesty commands my own.
"Fuck yes, Sean, I want this . . . us together. I want there to be an us.." I smile, hoping that's what you meant when you said you wanted to keep seeing me. But you move in for a kiss and I explore the warmth of your mouth, happy that we seem to be feeling the same thing.
Pressing my palm against your cheek and splaying my fingers in your hair, I pull back, looking into your eyes. "What have you done to me?" I shake my head. "I have defenses, walls, thick ones. And you blew through them like they weren't even there."
My hand slides down your neck, resting on your shoulder, while my thumb scrapes over the place under your hair. I know you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, because the person I am around you is someone I haven't been in a very long time, but I take another go at explaining it. "Nobody knows the truth about what happened that night, not even Dave. The only person who knows is Paris's shift and he swore he'd never say anything. Everyone else who was there that night is either dead or they've gone from Wellington completely. I'm the only one left."
I settle further against you. "I was afraid to tell you, but more afraid to let it be there between us, like some sort of poison. Fuck, I nearly lost my mind over it, and it still hurts to think about it, but bloody hell, it didn't hurt as much of the thought of it costing me whatever chance I've got with you." That's what you do to me, make me risk almost anything just for a chance to be with you.
Sean: I move into your touch, taking in your words, and something in my chest twists as I think about what you went through. I run my hand over your skin, wishing I could go back and erase the pain.
“Glad you told me about what happened, that you trust me that way,” I say, pausing to lean in and brush a kiss against your shoulder, another against your neck. I draw back, resting my head on your pillow, still close enough to keep our bodies tangled but far enough to see your eyes. The thrill that you want there to be an us bolts through me and I’m grinning.
“Don’t know what I’ve done to you, actually. Probably same thing you’ve done to me.” Some of your words come back to me, and my grin falls away. “Got walls of me own, though, or least, thought I did.”
“Coming back to Wellington, honestly, I wasn’t looking for anything like this.” I pause, wondering how to describe what’s in my head, my heart. “Every good thing I’ve ever had with a lover has fallen apart. I’ve . . . I’ve always been either too much, or not enough. Maybe, that’s one in the same, I dunno.” My voice goes quiet at that last, and why is it so easy to give you words I’ve never given anyone?
“Think I was ready to give up, you know, not try for anything lasting again, just enjoy the good times where I could.” I let out a breath, my gaze sliding away, roving over your sunlit skin, thinking that probably sounded either fairly sad or fairly shallow. “Always was willing to take a risk, before, but after another ending, after Vig, I just didn’t see the point anymore . . . and then you showed up.”
Smiling again, I move closer, fitting myself tighter against you, hand sliding up your back. “Funny thing, though. This doesn’t feel anything like a risk, that in itself should make me want to slow down, stop altogether, but I don’t.”
I’m in so close now, there’s nothing but your warmth, your eyes looking back at me. “I want you, Karl. Want to see where this takes us, though with my record, wouldn’t begrudge you any second thoughts you might hit on.”
My grin is real now, but honestly, I’m only half teasing as I say, “You could probably do better.”
Karl: I pull you closer, nuzzling a kiss into your hair. "I could do better? Doubt it. "
My eyes go serious again. "But you could, you have. I'm not like Viggo, don't have any hidden depths, no artistic poetic soul." My insecurities rear up, and I can't help wonder if you can be satisfied with me, when you've had him. But I shake it off, can't feel like that, not on this wonderful day you've given me. He managed to lose you somehow and it's my bed you're in this morning. But based on past painful experience, I decide to head off one problem before it starts. "And despite the tabloid speculation, I've never slept with him, we've never been more than friends. We were having a goof with the press."
I trace one of the tattoos on your shoulders. "Fuck, we're a pair. I've had one serious relationship, one lover, in the past ten years, and it lasted barely six months. So I've got no practice being with someone, you'll have to teach me how to do it." My lips follow the path of my fingers on your ink, can't get enough of the taste of you.
"I want to see where we go, too, but if I go wrong, you'll have to gimme a whap, or fuck me silly, or something." My eyes are teasing now as I taste your lips, but I feel light and free, and hopeful. You know the worst about me already, and you know about shifting, two potential landmines that have already been neutralised.
And the whole fucking trust issue, I know that's caused heaps of problems for me in the past, but, fuck, you've wormed right under my skin and there's no question in my mind. "I do trust you, don't know why, just feel that way around you."
Sean: It amazes me how honest we’re being with one another, how bloody good it is, talking with you like this. Doesn’t hurt that your lips and hands are almost constantly moving over me, tasting, touching, though I want to argue with you about this notion about you being less, somehow, than Vig. You’re not less, you’re different, a different person with a different spirit. You’re soulful, thoughtful, generous and gorgeous, inside and out. I want to tell you that, even if I come off sounding like the biggest sap ever made, but you’re still talking, still touching me and I relax and just listen.
When you’re done I roll onto my back, pulling you with me, wanting to feel your weight pressing on me. You’re still wearing the vest, and I run my hands up your back, stroking you through the leather soaked with your warmth. I’m glad that you and Vig were never involved, that you told me. It’s something I would’ve wondered about, I’m sure, and briefly I wonder who your last lover was, why in hell they let you go, but it doesn’t matter now, when I have you.
“Think we’ll have to teach each other, actually, but I’m all for fucking you silly, or the opposite, if needs be.” I pull you down for a teasing kiss that ends up lingering for an endless moment. Finally, my hand slides into your hair, pulling you back because suddenly, I have to make sure you know something.
“You’re right, you’re not like Viggo, you’re a different person with your own set of ideas, own way of living, and you’re daft if you think you’re any less than anyone else.”
I hold your head in my hands, gaze into you steadily, and bloody hell, you’ve got things moving in me I’d thought I’d locked up and put away. “I trust you, too, can’t explain it any other way, either. I just do. You make me want things, want to give you things . . . feels good.”
I pull you in tight, content to let the rest of the words inside me settle, they’ll keep. “Mmm, not to dodge the subject, but I’m thinking we need a shower,” I say, grinning wolfishly at the thought of you wet and soap-slicked.
Karl: You feel so good, resting under me like this, and I think I like the idea of us teaching each other the ways of a relationship. And once again, we slide between teasing and other things. Fuck, if I could rise again, I'm dead certain this kiss would do it, going on like does, both of us exploring, testing, tasting.
And I resolve that I'm not going to force you to keep reassuring me, because you seem to like me the way I am. I wonder how I got so fucking lucky, or if all the bad karma I seem to have accumulated has finally dissipated.
"Yeah, a shower sounds like a brilliant idea." Probably could stand to change the sheets, too, but fuck, just the idea of what we've been doing in this bed, just the memory of it all . . . I don't think I ever want to get your scent out of my bed. But I'm starting to recognize that grin on your face, and I smile, thinking I'm the one who'd better keep his strength up.
I take off the vest and fold it carefully, putting it back in the box. "Come on, then," I say, holding out my hand.
NC-17
I open my eyes and see that it's still dark outside, and I'm disoriented for a moment, wondering why I'm awake. But then fingers twitch on my ribs again, tickling slightly and I remember. Sean. Still in bed with me, and I turn my head, and he's there, a bulky shape in the darkness of the room. I can just barely see his eyes moving under his eyelids and I guess he's dreaming, and I'm hoping it's a good one if it involves his hands moving and I remember his hands moving last night, and fuck, I'm aching for him again.
I wonder if he'd appreciate my hard-on as an early Christmas present, but it's not even dawn yet and he looks so peaceful. I roll over and pull him closer, smiling against his sunny hair. Aunt June had pretended like she didn't know who he was, despite her threats when I called her. Treated him like any other ex-pat Brit living in Zid. And went to bed early.
And now, somehow, despite us still not talking about what we expect from each other, I can't fret about it anymore. He knows the worst thing about me, and it doesn't bother him. Whatever this is that we've got, it's something good, something peaceful and comfortable, in between times of almost uncontrollable lust. I'll just let it be, let us be, take whatever this is without worry or fear.
Warm and content, I slide back into sleep.
Sean: My eyes slide open slowly, and coming awake I can’t recall not wanting to move more than I do right now. Arms are around me, keeping me in place as I draw in a slow breath of morning air, and for a while I stay still, just listening to your even breathing, just resting in your warmth. Finally though, I move, but only enough to look up at you. Your dark hair a contrast against the pillow, your eyes closed, lips slightly parted and bloody hell, you’re gorgeous. The sky outside the window is filling up with light, will be spilling inside your bedroom again and already, barely up and awake, and I want you.
I wonder if you’ve any idea how fucking hot you are, how good you made it, yesterday. I think of the secret you shared, my hand smoothing over your chest. I drop a kiss just above your nipple, almost reverently, lips barely brushing your skin. Drifting up, I flick my tongue in the hollow of your throat and wait . . . it’s Christmas morning, right?
Drawing back with a smile, my hands gliding over your skin, I wonder how long you’ll sleep under my teasing touch. Glancing over my shoulder, I wonder too, where the present I got you ended up. We eventually got up last night and fetched my bag from the car, think your gift came in as well, but hell, most of my memories of yesterday are of you bathed in sunlight with that look in your eyes that takes me right apart. Still smiling, I brush another kiss against your chest. I want you, but I can wait and christ, what a brilliant holiday this is shaping up to be.
Karl: The tickle is back again and I wonder what you're dreaming about now, as I come awake. I open my eyes and realise the sun is coming up and there's another sweep of warmth over my chest. I drop my eyes and see that the sensation isn't coming from your unconscious movements while you're sleeping. For a moment, I stay still watching you, luxuriating in the knowledge that we don't have to do a bloody thing today if we don't want, neither of us has any place we need to be this time. This time, I can enjoy waking up with you, instead of dashing out the door. And if we want, we can stay in bed all day, and I find that incredibly appealing.
By now you have to have noticed that part of my body is definitely awake and responding to you in the usual way. Your tongue flicks over my nipple again and I can't help the moan that escapes. And I can't help the way my body moves involuntarily under your touch. You raise your head, looking a little startled, and I shrug and smile. What can I say . . . you're dead sexy and I'm fully functional.
"Morning." I stroke my hands up your back and cup your head, wanting to taste you again. I think vaguely of toothpaste, but fuck it, who cares. Not when your mouth is so deliciously hot and your tongue tangles with mine.
I'm grinning when we pull apart. "It's good like this . . . waking up like this. Thank you." This is a fucking huge improvement over last Christmas, hell over just about any Christmas I can remember for a long time.
Sean: My mouth is worrying your nipple gently when you move suddenly under me. Looking up in surprise, I answer your smile with a grin, having been caught out with teasing you awake. Your voice is rough with sleep, and sends a rush of warmth over me, through me, with just that one word, morning. The warmth is fast becoming heat, pooling in my belly as your touch on my hair gets me moving, practically climbing up you, and fuck, your mouth is just as hot as I remember.
That grin is doing things to me, brilliant things, and so are your words, and I can’t agree more with them. “Yeah,” I say, letting my hand smooth down your chest. I look into your eyes as my fingers stroke gently, low on your belly. “Feel like I should be saying the same, but you’re welcome.” My hand slides lower, just shy of touching your cock, teasing you lightly.
“Feel like I should be the one saying thank you,” I say, voice pitched low, nearly whispering, “because you feel so fucking good.”
I reach down and wrap my fingers around your very awake cock, and leaning in, slant my mouth over yours, begin stoking your hardening cock in pace with my tongue sliding against yours. I break away, heart already pounding, and with a slow smile slide down your body, my eyes never leaving yours. “Haven’t had you in my mouth, yet, want to taste you.”
I don’t even realize I’ve said the words aloud until you rock under me.
Karl: Your wandering hands are distracting me, your mouth on mine waking me up completely. You tease me, not touching me where I want, need you to and I make a pleading noise against your tongue. Fuck, what have you done to me that I'm practically begging for your touch? When your hand finally encloses my dick, I make a growling satisfied sound into your mouth.
Just watching your hands turns me on, and now they're around me, stroking me, and it feels so good. "Fuck, you've got sexy hands." And I arch myself into your touch.
You want to taste me? Oh, please, please do that and I'm squirming under you and gasping as the heat of your mouth surrounds me. Fuck, your tongue is doing beautiful things to my cock, and I grab the sheets, wanting to hold on to something, anything, because if I grabbed your head, I'm afraid I'd choke you. And you keep moving your hands around, and bloody hell, just knowing those wonderful long fingers are roaming over me has me groaning and muttering, and I'm not even sure what I'm saying anymore. Please. I fight the urge to jam myself into your mouth. More. Ragged demands which I'm can't tell whether they make any sense.
But your steady sucking and flickering tongue are undoing me, and if you've any idea of stopping short, now would be the time. "Sean!" I cry in warning.
Sean: I relax my throat, taking you in as deep as I can without choking, and fuck, but you taste good. My hands skim up and down your spread thighs, smooth over your hips and the flat firm muscles of your belly, dipping into your navel and then start the wandering route all over again. You’re swinging between growls and pleas and bloody hell, I’m hard enough to cut glass from just your noises.
My hands settle on you hips, gripping them as you thrust, holding you where I want you as you fall to pieces, your hands clenching the sheets. My lips are stretched tight around your cock, taking it, over and over, tongue swirling about and I suck you harder, wanting to have you pump your come down my throat as badly as I wanted you to fuck me yesterday. You’re close but holding back, hips rocking into me and hell, want you to use me, fuck my mouth as hard as you need to.
Looking up, I get my eyes on you as I bob on your cock, and christ, so gorgeous you are, rocking and straining, eyes gone dark. You cry out, and fuck yeah, am going to have your come soon, I think. Reaching out with one hand, keeping the other curled around your hipbone I pull your hand from the sheets, drawing it to the back of my head, trying to tell you you can have it however you need it.
Christ, your fingers sink into my hair, thrusts speeding up and you feel bloody marvelous. You’re working so hard, bucking up into me and with both hands gripping your hips again, I take you deep, sucking, humming, wanting.
Karl: Oh fucking hell. Your mouth is too good, your hands are too good, you doing all this to me is too much, and fuck, when you start humming I fall completely apart, losing it into the silky heat of your mouth. I shout your name again and my convulsing muscles pull me up off the bed. I hold your head down into my lap while you take everything I've got to give you. You keep sucking on me and it's not stopping, you're dragging more and more out of me, pleasure unending.
My whole body feels like it's buzzing, over-sensitised by what you're doing to me. But at last I relax back down onto the bed, putting a hand over my eyes, wondering if I hurt you, if I made a fool of myself, wondering why the fuck I can't seem to restrain myself around you. You ease your mouth off of me and rest your head on my thigh. I finally look at you, lying there watching me, but your eyes are full of warmth and I smile at you. I smile all the bloody time around you, it seems, but I guess that's a good thing.
I pull you up to find your mouth, enjoying the taste of me on your tongue. We kiss for long minutes and I sigh into your mouth, happy to kiss you for hours. But your erection is pressing against my leg and I pull back at last, staring into your green eyes, my thumb tracing your cheekbone. I remember your words and I question whether I have the courage to give them back to you, but the warmth I see when I look at you gives me my answer.
"Sean," I breathe against your lips. Then I look into your eyes again, letting you see, "Anything you want . . . just take it. Anything, all yours." And fuck yeah, I have the courage for that, fuck yeah, I want that, want you taking anything and everything.
Sean: My throat works as around your cock as you pump hot and hard into me, my hands gripping tight as you bow up off the bed. I keep sucking, milking you for every drop, not wanting to let go, but at last I do, letting you slip from my mouth. I lay against you, my cock throbbing and I’m filled with both need for you and a deep satisfaction, all at once. Whatever happens next, I won’t last long, not with your taste in my mouth, warm in my belly.
You smile at me, pull me up for a kiss and fuck, you feel brilliant. Breaking apart, I look into your eyes, am fairly shaking with desire and I lean into your touch on my cheek. Your words, fucking hell, has me rocking against you, eyes sliding shut, it takes a long moment before I can look back at you without losing it.
Breathing out shakily, I brush my lips over yours. Carding my fingers through your hair, I slide against you, gasping softly as my cock glides over your hip. I bury my face in your neck, just breathing for a moment, then leaning up look into your eyes.
“Want to fuck you,” I growl, my hand going again to your hair, stroking it back, “but when I take you, want us to get off, together, don’t think I can wait for you now, too bloody close from you fucking my mouth . . . ” My hand drops away, finds yours, pulls it up to my lips. Gazing into you, I lick all along your palm and fingers, getting you wet.
Guiding your hand to my cock, I moan as your slick fingers wrap around my aching shaft. Compelled by lust and need, I push you down against the bed and use your hand, your heat, fucking myself hard on you and I don’t care if it’s a rather awkward angle for you, or if my weight is crushing you. My eyes fall shut and I moan, pistoning my hips against you, chasing my release that’s so close, poised to slam through me.
“So fuckin’ hot . . . god, Karl!
Karl: Those words in your roughly accented voice do something to my guts, tightening and clenching my insides, and I want that, exactly as you described it, more than I can say. I nod in agreement, then my breath huffs out as you start licking my fingers. Fucking hell, I think I'm gonna spend all my holidays in bed with you in the sensual daze you seem to keep me in.
Your cock feels so good in my hand, and I can't get enough of the satiny feel of your skin, soft and smooth there. And your weight on me feels fucking outstanding, want you pinning me down like this. Maybe sometime I'll get a chance to explore you, to find out what you like in a hand job, but you're driving yourself into the circle of my fingers and all I can do is try to keep the pressure steady for you, not too little and not too much.
I take my other hand and rest it lightly on your ass, not squeezing, just feeling your muscles working. I watch your face, watch the way your eyes flare as each pulse of pleasure zings through you. And that fucking deadly tongue of yours, licking your lips, fuck you had me without ever touching me when I realised I was fantasizing about your tongue.
"Let go," I say, when you yelp out my name. And you do, your muscles going rigid, standing out over your body, your delicious come spurting out, and my hand suddenly slips over you easily. I move my hand from your back to your face, smoothing the sweaty hair out of your eyes, murmuring, "Beautiful" and other nonsense while you come back down.
Sean: I’m riding your hand, working hard when your words, your hot touch, your eyes intent on mine trigger something in me, and I’m falling, coming, arching into you, body drawn tense as I pulse all over your fingers. The pleasure grabs me up and I’m lost to it, and then, a moment or an hour might have passed but slowly I become aware of your murmured words, your hand in my hair.
I collapse on you, no other word for it, and just lay draped over you as the aftershocks fade away. Finally, I shift, sliding off but keeping myself pressed close and fuck, you must think me a leech by now, but I don’t see any reason to be away from your warmth unless I have to. The thought is enough to get me wondering if you’d like to just lounge all day in bed, though, it is Christmas, and maybe you have things you want to do . . . but it’s been a long time since I’ve spent all day under the covers with my lover.
My lover, christ, yeah, that’s what you are. Can’t be anything else, not when you have the power to draw such need and desire out of me, can’t be anything else, not when I feel as if it’s . . . safe to want more. You do that, somehow.
I press a kiss to the point of your shoulder and fuck, but we’re going to have to talk about some things, sooner or later, but there’s a brilliant, heavy warmth curling through me now, and despite its lure I don’t quite feel like sleeping again so soon. Easing up on one elbow, I trail my fingers down your chest, not even trying to pull back my grin, my gaze moving over you laid out by my side.
“Fucking brilliant, that was,” I say, my hand smoothing over your ribs, settling at your waist. “Going to have to work hard to get me out of your bed today, I suspect.”
Karl: I'm starting to really like having you use me for a pillow. Puts you in perfect position for my hands to drift up and down your back, my fingertips recording the sensation of your skin under them, learning every inch of you. Can't seem to stop moving my hands over you, but it's not urgent, just a friendly sort of reassuring touch.
But I snicker, moving my fingers around to your front, tickling now. "I'd keep you in bed all the time, but I'm afraid of the wrath of your belly. I'll have to feed the beast sometime."
I'm laughing aloud now, and fuck, if it doesn't feel almost as good as fucking you. Laying here naked with you, nowhere to go and nothing to do but touch you all I want, making jokes with you, feels so good on so many levels.
"We keep it pretty low key around here today, tomorrow though, that's when we party, Boxing Day bonfire, hakas, that sort of thing. I'll have to get up some time and give Aunt June her things, but other than that, I'm all yours."
Rolling us over suddenly, I pin you under me, kissing you, licking and nuzzling you, mock growling in your ear. Don't know why the fuck I'm feeling so playful all of a sudden. Shit, it suddenly dawns on me that I'm happy.
Raising my head, I'm still smiling, but settled down some. "Happy Christmas, Sean."
Sean: You’re brilliant, and I’m ridiculously at home with being held under you, your playful lips nuzzling my skin, your voice warm in my ear. You draw back, and a new warmth takes me, starting deep inside at the expression in your eyes, your words. My fingers find their way into your hair, stroking it back gently. “Happy Christmas to you, too.”
We just lay a long moment, looking and smiling. “Thank you for having me.” I finally say, and the self-satisfied grin curving your lips has me chuckling. “That’s not what I mean, smug bastard.”
You’re laughing, chest rumbling against mine and I’m so grateful to be here in your arms, sharing this. I think I need you to know that, and the way you’re able to pull the words out of me without even trying is amazing.
“This has been so fucking good, want you to know how glad I am to be here with you.” My face is warm now and I shut up, content to have you pressing down on me, and christ, it won’t be long before I’m up and running again. My arms circle around you, holding you tight. “Fuck, but you feel good.”
Your lips meet mine and the kiss is hot, deep, your tongue sliding into me and I groan into your mouth as you take your fill, letting you know without words just what you do to me. Breaking apart we’re both breathing a little fast, my hands slide up your spine, come to rest against your shoulder blades.
“You know, I’ve something for you,” I say, grinning again at the look in your eyes, suspecting I know exactly what you’re thinking. “Something aside from that, though,” and suddenly we both fall very still, “that’s yours too, when you want it.”
Now I’m the one grinning.
Karl: I can't decide whether to go with the grin or the heat. Fuck, that's the thing that gets to me about you, that has surprised me so much, turned everything upside down. That there's both. And we slide from one to another and back again without hesitation.
My lips are still just a breath away from yours. "I'm glad you came, too." But you snort and I drop my head down, laughing. "Fuck, it doesn't stop. Couple of hard cases, we are." I roll to the side and look at you. "I'm glad you're here, glad we started this. It's fucking brilliant."
My stomach is starting to warn me, so I offer, "I got a present for you, too. Although anything else you want is yours for the taking." I leer at you. "But I left it downstairs, cause, well . . . " I shrug. "Wasn't sure, like I said. But I can go get it and some kai for us. Could stay in bed longer that way, I'd like that."
I pull on some trackie bottoms and go downstairs quietly, wondering if we woke Aunt June. But there's no sign of her, just a carafe of coffee on the bench and some sort of pastry thing. I get a tray, cutting up the pastry, finding a bowl of fruit in the fridge and getting some of that, too. Plates, mugs, silver. Fuck, I hope that's it as I balance the tray on the wrapped package. Halfway up the stairs I remember that the Englishman in my bed might prefer tea. My bed. That thought makes me warm all over again, and I hope that I get lots of chances to learn what you like at breakfast. And I'm grinning again when I walk back in the room.
Sean: Settling against the pillows, I watch you go, just enjoying the way you move. Once you’re downstairs I ease out of bed, stretching, and good thing you’re not here to see the loopy smile on my face as certain well worked muscles twinge. Rubbing a hand through my hair, I cast about, spotting my bag on the floor near the door.
Pushing the sheets aside I slide out of bed, crossing to my bag and letting back the zipper, I reach inside, pulling out a package wrapped in stiff, green and gold paper, and dammit, the ribbon’s fallen off. Spending a few moments feeling rather ridiculous, rifling through my gear in the buff, I give up, deciding you don’t need the decoration when you’re just going to tear it off anyway.
Dropping the gift on the bed, I slide back under the sheets. Stretching out, I settle back on your pillows, waiting. It’s not until I hear you on the stairs that the anticipation bolts through me, and fuck, maybe I’ve gone completely daft, but I hope you like what I have for you. If you don’t, well, I’ve learned a few ways over the last day and night how to distract you. Am looking forward to learning even more.
You enter the room, carrying a loaded tray and a smile and something else bolts through me, something that’s just as warm and potent as desire, but isn’t tied to lust or want . . . been a while since I’ve been served breakfast in bed, and now I’m grinning up at you.
“You must be lookin’ to have me keep me strength up then, yeah?” I joke, but I’m already reaching for the pastry as you set the tray down. “Good idea, that.”
Then all joking aside, I add sincerely, looking into your eyes, “Thanks Karl, this is brilliant.”
Karl: I can't help but notice the package on the bed, but you're reaching for food, so I guess that answers the question of food or presents first. I'm very curious, but I resist the impulse to pounce on it. I put yours on the table and drop my pants again, no longer worried about being naked around you. Seems natural now.
Keep your strength up . . . abruptly I have the image of you deep inside me, filling me. Fuck. Grabbing the mugs, I pour us both some coffee and then dish out the fruit. Sometimes I wish males weren't cursed with mood indicators. But I turn it into a joke. "It seems you're going to need all the strength you can get."
We laze on the bed, eating quietly, while I rest my leg against yours, wanting to stay touching you all the time. But inside I'm fidgety, worrying about the gift I got you. Eventually I can't stand the suspense and I jump up and get it, the bed sagging slightly under the weight of the books.
"These are for you. Was thinking about you the whole fucking time you were gone." And I can suddenly say what I should have told you yesterday. "Missed you."
The gift is four over-sized separate leather-bound editions of some Shakespeare plays, the ones with supernatural elements. Hamlet, and The Tempest, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Macbeth. All his most popular plays, clichés there, and I wince. And Macbeth, fuck, you probably have more copies of that than you need. But they'd been illustrated by Arthur Rackham and each of the plays is filled with full-colour paintings and line drawings. Titania and her court and Ophelia going mad and Macbeth meeting the witches and Ariel teasing Caliban.
I remembered how well you used what came to hand to decorate your house and how you so quickly found a design that would work for my herbs. I wondered if you'd appreciate the sinuous fantastical paintings and I hope you're as much of an artist as you seem to be.
Sean: You’re smiling, painted in morning sunlight, cock already half hard and fuck, it’s an effort to keep my hands off you. Joking, you dole out the fruit and coffee and I relax into the moment, just enjoying watching you. There’s no hurry. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I, we’ve all day.
We take breakfast lying together, touching, like it’s something we’ve done a hundred times before. I’m polishing off my coffee as you climb from the bed, going for the gift I’ve been wondering about but was trying not to let on that I was wondering about. The bed dips a bit as you set it down and my fingers are already tugging, tearing the paper, and then your words. Christ.
I pause, gift half opened, and just breathe, and then I’m smiling. “Missed you, too. Thought about our night, about you . . . couldn’t get you out of me head.”
We’re both grinning, and god, what a pair. Chuckling, I get back to work on my present. It only takes a few more tugs and then I’m pulling them out, beautiful leather bound volumes of Shakespeare. My eyes go wide as my grin as I get Macbeth open, leafing carefully through the pages, running my fingers lightly over the captivating illustrations.
“Gorgeous, just, bloody gorgeous, Karl . . . come’re.” Fingers sliding into your hair I pull you close. The kiss goes hot and slow, smolders as I take my time in thanking you for your thoughtfulness, making sure to tongue every corner of your incredible mouth. Finally, I pull back but only so far as to brush my lips, side to side, over yours.
“Thank you,” I breathe against your lips. Fuck, I want you, but first . . . licking your taste off my lips, I lean back, reaching for your present.
“Your turn.”
Karl: Your tongue invades me, as you pull me closer and I'm having trouble breathing by the time you pull away. And I'm wondering if I'm about to get what I really want for Christmas, but then it's time for my present. I'm relieved that you like yours.
I tear at the paper and my fingers slow as I open the box. The scent of the leather catches me first, and I inhale it. I pick it up, black and supple, the skin so finely worked, my hands can't stop touching the vest, roaming over the lacing, over the sleek leather.
"Bloody hell, Sean." I can't breathe again, stunned by the gift, by your courage, thrilled beyond words that you bought this for me. I bury my face against the soft leather. "Fuck. Fucking beautiful." Beautiful . . . and you got it for me.
Raising my head, knowing my eyes are still stunned, I whisper, "Thank you. Help me put it on?"
Your hands on me as we get the vest over my shoulders are setting up an aching in me. When it is snapped on, it fits perfectly, the silk soft on my skin, but the leather hugging every curve of my body, like an embrace. It fits so closely that I could get only the thinnest of silk shirts under it, but it's clear from the cut of it that's how it's meant to fit and the intimacy of that takes my breath away. To know that you see me this way, that you want me this way . . . suddenly all those conversations we've never had don't matter anymore. This vest is answer enough, for now.
I wrap my arms around you, finding your mouth almost blindly, sinking into your kisses, your warmth, my body responding to your touch, my nipples already tight against the silk. And I need you inside me, need you staking your claim on me. And, fuck, when have I ever felt like that?
"Please," I gasp, my body arching against you, trying to get as close to you as possible. "Want you taking me."
Sean: Fuck. Fuck, you’re beautiful, and the hunger and heat is taking me, licking along my limbs like flame. I run my hands over the leather fitted tightly around you, and god, I want you, but even in the midst of the wanting I’m ridiculously pleased that you like my gift so.
Our mouths come together and I taste your need, bright and hot on my tongue before we finally break apart, and fucking hell, you’re rubbing against me, saying please, and in this moment I can deny you nothing. So many things moving inside me, so much happening so fast but it’s the need in your eyes that I see most clearly, a need I have to answer.
I brush my thumb across your lips, slow smile curving my own and christ, I want climb inside you, fuck you slow, hard and deep, watch you fall to pieces under me.
Gently, I push you back on the pillows, nudging your legs apart. You spread for me and I move in, nearly moaning at the sight. I take your mouth again in a hard kiss, a searing moment of tongues and heat, then I’m moving, trailing kisses down your neck, the hollow of your throat. Reaching the vest, I just smile and keep going, mouthing wet kisses against the supple material, biting firmly but gently over your leather covered nipples, careful not to leave a mark on the vest.
I unsnap it, pushing it aside to get at you but not about to get rid of it altogether, and that’s when the words start, breathed out against your skin between kisses, licks and nips.
“Going to get in you, love, bury meself, have you so fucking hard and deep, you’ll think I’m never coming out . . . ”
Kneeling between your legs, I trail my hand down your chest. “So fucking beautiful, lift up for me,” I whisper. You rise up, and I slide a pillow underneath your hips. Getting you settled, gripping your hips firmly I move down, grinning wickedly, craving you. I spend long moments nuzzling your beautiful cock, just inhaling your musk, licking at your moisture, but finally I reluctantly move on, going after something else. Moving lower, spreading your arse with my hands, I press a kiss to your tight hole, then tongue you, gently.
Karl: Oh, yes. Fuck, I want this so badly. Want you pushing me down, want you having me however you want. My body is already rocking under your touch, every part of me aching for you, wanting you touching me everywhere. Oh, hell yes. Leave the vest on while you fuck me, you inside me and your gift wrapped around me.
I seem to be caught up in a storm that you made, a storm of sensation everywhere you're touching me, and my head is whirling from the intensity of it. Then you tell me how's it's gonna be, and it's like your words envelop my cock, bloody hell, you're gonna drive me insane.
You've got me so open and vulnerable to you, and I don't give a shit. Want to give you everything. "Fuck, yes, Sean."
Your mouth is like fire on me, and when your tongue slides hot and wet into me, fuck that wicked tongue that I can't resist, I nearly come off the bed. But I surrender to your touch, wanting you to just take. And you do. Your tongue, gentle and teasing at first, becomes relentless, opening me for you, pulling cries and moans from me, and when you add your fingers, all thought goes.
You've turned me into a mass of nothing but pleasure and I can't do anything . . . don't want to do anything but take what you're giving me, and let you have it all.
"Do it . . . please, want you."
Sean: You cry out when I ease in a finger and your sheer heat gets right inside me, puts down roots, and I pull my tongue out, get my eyes up to watch you buck. Withdrawing my touch, I grab the lube, a condom, quickly slick my finger and push it right back in. So fucking tight you are, but you’re relaxing, can feel it happening. Watching you writher I ease in another finger, and another, until you’re taking three, right up to the knuckle.
I’m trembling, and your words are enough to tip the scales of my desire. Was going to take this slow, but hell, can’t, not when you’re laid out under me, asking for it. I let you buck for a handful of heartbeats on my thrusting fingers, then pull out, rolling on the condom, slicking my cock with shaking hands. I line our bodies up the way it seems they were made to and my hand finds yours, our fingers lacing together as I press you down against the mattress, finding the needed leverage to hold myself over you.
Pressing the head of my cock against your entrance, just on the edge of taking you, I gaze into your dilated eyes, so dark and vulnerable, and manage a rough whisper, “You’ve got me, love.”
I slide home in one slow push, moving into your smooth heat and you’re consuming me, stretched tight around me. Buried balls deep, I fall still, my body sweating, shaking with the effort of holding back, giving you time to adjust. But I have to have you, and growling your name, begin moving, fucking you with hard, claiming thrusts that takes me so deep so fast I’m seeing stars. My fingers are still laced tight with yours, my other hand finding your hip, gripping hard, and you’re pinned, taking my cock and I’m moaning as you meet me, thrust for thrust.
Intense pleasure engulfs me as I ride your amazing heat, glorying in your incredible responsiveness. I pump into you again and again, craving you even as I’m having you, and it’s too good, too much. Am so fucking close already, and I need to watch you go off, first.
“Please, come for me, love . . . give it me now.”
Karl: I need the clasp of your fingers around mine to steady me, cause the feel of you pushing into me is so fucking incredible I nearly lose it right then. The sight of your beautiful body flexing as you sink into me, the concentration on your face, the feeling of your stretching me open for your invasion and then your dick is a hot hard nail pinning me to the bed. Fuck yeah.
You're moving inside me, long hard thrusts, jolting me, sending shocks through me, your belly scraping against my cock. So bloody perfect, exactly what I needed. I plant my feet on the mattress and move with you, our bodies falling into a rhythm that starts me moaning.
Come for me. I lock my eyes with yours and my hand finds my cock. But I don't move yet, knowing it's going to take the slightest touch to set me off. I get lost in the intense green of your eyes and then I finally close my fingers, moving, one stroke . . . two and it hits me, sending my body plunging against you, while your fingers tighten. Your weight is still securing me, keeping me safe while I convulse around you, your cock an inescapable force that's increasing the sensations slamming me.
I'm panting your name as the ripples keep moving, and you're holding me, riding me through it. Your eyes have gone so wide and I feel your body tightening against me and inside me, and I know you must be close. I thread my fingers through your hair, wanting to tell you to come, wanting to tell you to do whatever you want, take whatever you want, but I've got no words right now.
Sean: You come around my cock, arse clenching down about me tight and hard, pulsing, and bloody hell, the sensation is driving me beyond sanity. My fingers tighten around yours, my hand on your hip gripping harder, and I ride you. Ride your heat and your tight, pulsing arse and god, feel so close to you, think I can feel your very heartbeat through my cock.
Can’t imagine wanting more than I want right now, can’t imagine wanting to have anyone else like I’m having you and fuck, the feelings send me slamming into you, thrusts lifting your hips off the pillow. I’m so close to losing it inside you, and the last piece of my thinking mind wishes there was no latex barrier between us, and christ, can’t be thinking about that so soon. Can’t be thinking about pumping my seed into you, of having your hot cock and come filling me, riding me bare.
You’re looking into my eyes and I feel as if you can read every emotion and scrap of thought left in me and god, can’t think of anything but your heat, of you, my gorgeous Karl. My body tightens, desire threading into my veins, shooting up my spine and I abandon myself inside you, just let go, moaning your name and not caring who hears.
Shoving inside one last hard time, going so deep I can’t tell where you end and I begin, my release takes me, and it doesn’t just come, it floods me, fills me up with hard hitting bliss and my cock jumps, throbs inside your arse. When I come back to myself, I’m still sheathed in you, lying draping over your chest, fingers clenched tight around yours, still holding on.
Karl: You've swept me away, taking me with you wherever you're going, and all I can do is hang on to you, thinking you're like some sort of wind that blasted into my life the same way you send pleasure blasting through my body. You're thrusting so deep into me but my body welcomes you, wants everything you're doing to me.
And I hold you while you spill over, wondering how the hell this happened, how the hell you push me so far, but you do it without ever getting my defenses up. I should be fucking terrified of the things you make me feel, but I'm not. I'm still safe with you, and you keep proving it to me. And it feels like time is distorted, like we're caught in this instant with you coming and me holding, and I never want to leave it.
But you relax finally, and I feel as though I had forgotten to breathe the entire time, and suddenly I can inhale again. My hand is clenched in your hair, and I loosen my grip, slowly. Our fingers are still entwined and your body is boneless on me, and I rest my palm between your shoulder blades, feeling your heartbeat gradually steadying. I want to twine my legs with yours, but I don't want to dislodge you, want you to stay inside me as long as possible.
When you pull out, I feel shattered, broken open, until you come back to the bed, and then I can twine around you the way I wanted to, feeling shaky until your arms go around me. I think maybe I surrendered more than my body to you.
I let my lips rest on your shoulder, tasting you sometimes, just wanting your warmth. "Bloody hell, Sean," I mumble. There's more, but I don't know how to say any of what I'm feeling.
Sean: I’m not sure how long we stay joined, letting our heartbeats slow, but finally I push up, easing out. Tugging the condom off and getting rid of it, I can’t get back to you fast enough. Back in bed my eyes slide shut at the whisper soft touch of your lips on my shoulder. Chuckling at your words, I’m going to say something daft, something to make you laugh but then something else takes hold of me, and without even thinking it through, I pull back, looking into your face.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Before you can answer I lean in for a kiss, shaken by the sudden fear that somehow you won’t understand when I’m so sure you must. Brushing my lips over yours, I open to you, arms holding you close as our tongues curl together. Long moments pass before I pull away. I’ve started with the words, and I know I have to finish. So far we’ve not needed them, but I want, need, to be sure we’re headed in the same direction. Been burned before by the not knowing, and christ, don’t want that happening with you.
You’re watching me, and fuck, have never been great at this, but I push on anyway. “I feel so fucking much with you, and I don’t mean just the lovemaking,” I hesitate over the word, but yeah, that’s what it felt like. Was definitely more than bare bones fucking. “I mean I . . . there’s more,” I brush your hair back behind your ear, let my hand smooth down your arm, slip over your side to your hip, fingers tracing random patterns there as if I can explain myself better with touch rather than words.
Your hazel eyes are on me, waiting, drawing the rest out of me. “Christ, Karl, the things you pull out of me just, turns me right round. I want to keep seeing you, after this. I mean, if you . . . ” I trail off, not sure even I know what I’m asking for, but knowing I need it all the same.
“I want more of you,” I finally get out, pressing my face against your shoulder, breathing you in.
Karl: Your touch on me is so reassuring, your fingers wandering over me. The things you're saying to me . . . like you're voicing things I haven't really let myself think about, haven't dared to. And I do feel it, just like you said, there's more.
More of me? I'm beginning to think that whatever you wanted from me, you could just take, and I'd let you. I don't seem able to hold myself back around you. And knowing that you do that to me sometimes makes me so uncomfortable, until you smile at me or touch me, and my panic goes away. Still, I want to tease my way out of this, but your honesty commands my own.
"Fuck yes, Sean, I want this . . . us together. I want there to be an us.." I smile, hoping that's what you meant when you said you wanted to keep seeing me. But you move in for a kiss and I explore the warmth of your mouth, happy that we seem to be feeling the same thing.
Pressing my palm against your cheek and splaying my fingers in your hair, I pull back, looking into your eyes. "What have you done to me?" I shake my head. "I have defenses, walls, thick ones. And you blew through them like they weren't even there."
My hand slides down your neck, resting on your shoulder, while my thumb scrapes over the place under your hair. I know you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, because the person I am around you is someone I haven't been in a very long time, but I take another go at explaining it. "Nobody knows the truth about what happened that night, not even Dave. The only person who knows is Paris's shift and he swore he'd never say anything. Everyone else who was there that night is either dead or they've gone from Wellington completely. I'm the only one left."
I settle further against you. "I was afraid to tell you, but more afraid to let it be there between us, like some sort of poison. Fuck, I nearly lost my mind over it, and it still hurts to think about it, but bloody hell, it didn't hurt as much of the thought of it costing me whatever chance I've got with you." That's what you do to me, make me risk almost anything just for a chance to be with you.
Sean: I move into your touch, taking in your words, and something in my chest twists as I think about what you went through. I run my hand over your skin, wishing I could go back and erase the pain.
“Glad you told me about what happened, that you trust me that way,” I say, pausing to lean in and brush a kiss against your shoulder, another against your neck. I draw back, resting my head on your pillow, still close enough to keep our bodies tangled but far enough to see your eyes. The thrill that you want there to be an us bolts through me and I’m grinning.
“Don’t know what I’ve done to you, actually. Probably same thing you’ve done to me.” Some of your words come back to me, and my grin falls away. “Got walls of me own, though, or least, thought I did.”
“Coming back to Wellington, honestly, I wasn’t looking for anything like this.” I pause, wondering how to describe what’s in my head, my heart. “Every good thing I’ve ever had with a lover has fallen apart. I’ve . . . I’ve always been either too much, or not enough. Maybe, that’s one in the same, I dunno.” My voice goes quiet at that last, and why is it so easy to give you words I’ve never given anyone?
“Think I was ready to give up, you know, not try for anything lasting again, just enjoy the good times where I could.” I let out a breath, my gaze sliding away, roving over your sunlit skin, thinking that probably sounded either fairly sad or fairly shallow. “Always was willing to take a risk, before, but after another ending, after Vig, I just didn’t see the point anymore . . . and then you showed up.”
Smiling again, I move closer, fitting myself tighter against you, hand sliding up your back. “Funny thing, though. This doesn’t feel anything like a risk, that in itself should make me want to slow down, stop altogether, but I don’t.”
I’m in so close now, there’s nothing but your warmth, your eyes looking back at me. “I want you, Karl. Want to see where this takes us, though with my record, wouldn’t begrudge you any second thoughts you might hit on.”
My grin is real now, but honestly, I’m only half teasing as I say, “You could probably do better.”
Karl: I pull you closer, nuzzling a kiss into your hair. "I could do better? Doubt it. "
My eyes go serious again. "But you could, you have. I'm not like Viggo, don't have any hidden depths, no artistic poetic soul." My insecurities rear up, and I can't help wonder if you can be satisfied with me, when you've had him. But I shake it off, can't feel like that, not on this wonderful day you've given me. He managed to lose you somehow and it's my bed you're in this morning. But based on past painful experience, I decide to head off one problem before it starts. "And despite the tabloid speculation, I've never slept with him, we've never been more than friends. We were having a goof with the press."
I trace one of the tattoos on your shoulders. "Fuck, we're a pair. I've had one serious relationship, one lover, in the past ten years, and it lasted barely six months. So I've got no practice being with someone, you'll have to teach me how to do it." My lips follow the path of my fingers on your ink, can't get enough of the taste of you.
"I want to see where we go, too, but if I go wrong, you'll have to gimme a whap, or fuck me silly, or something." My eyes are teasing now as I taste your lips, but I feel light and free, and hopeful. You know the worst about me already, and you know about shifting, two potential landmines that have already been neutralised.
And the whole fucking trust issue, I know that's caused heaps of problems for me in the past, but, fuck, you've wormed right under my skin and there's no question in my mind. "I do trust you, don't know why, just feel that way around you."
Sean: It amazes me how honest we’re being with one another, how bloody good it is, talking with you like this. Doesn’t hurt that your lips and hands are almost constantly moving over me, tasting, touching, though I want to argue with you about this notion about you being less, somehow, than Vig. You’re not less, you’re different, a different person with a different spirit. You’re soulful, thoughtful, generous and gorgeous, inside and out. I want to tell you that, even if I come off sounding like the biggest sap ever made, but you’re still talking, still touching me and I relax and just listen.
When you’re done I roll onto my back, pulling you with me, wanting to feel your weight pressing on me. You’re still wearing the vest, and I run my hands up your back, stroking you through the leather soaked with your warmth. I’m glad that you and Vig were never involved, that you told me. It’s something I would’ve wondered about, I’m sure, and briefly I wonder who your last lover was, why in hell they let you go, but it doesn’t matter now, when I have you.
“Think we’ll have to teach each other, actually, but I’m all for fucking you silly, or the opposite, if needs be.” I pull you down for a teasing kiss that ends up lingering for an endless moment. Finally, my hand slides into your hair, pulling you back because suddenly, I have to make sure you know something.
“You’re right, you’re not like Viggo, you’re a different person with your own set of ideas, own way of living, and you’re daft if you think you’re any less than anyone else.”
I hold your head in my hands, gaze into you steadily, and bloody hell, you’ve got things moving in me I’d thought I’d locked up and put away. “I trust you, too, can’t explain it any other way, either. I just do. You make me want things, want to give you things . . . feels good.”
I pull you in tight, content to let the rest of the words inside me settle, they’ll keep. “Mmm, not to dodge the subject, but I’m thinking we need a shower,” I say, grinning wolfishly at the thought of you wet and soap-slicked.
Karl: You feel so good, resting under me like this, and I think I like the idea of us teaching each other the ways of a relationship. And once again, we slide between teasing and other things. Fuck, if I could rise again, I'm dead certain this kiss would do it, going on like does, both of us exploring, testing, tasting.
And I resolve that I'm not going to force you to keep reassuring me, because you seem to like me the way I am. I wonder how I got so fucking lucky, or if all the bad karma I seem to have accumulated has finally dissipated.
"Yeah, a shower sounds like a brilliant idea." Probably could stand to change the sheets, too, but fuck, just the idea of what we've been doing in this bed, just the memory of it all . . . I don't think I ever want to get your scent out of my bed. But I'm starting to recognize that grin on your face, and I smile, thinking I'm the one who'd better keep his strength up.
I take off the vest and fold it carefully, putting it back in the box. "Come on, then," I say, holding out my hand.
NC-17
