[ Look the vibe of this whole time since they fell into things together has been nothing but hot (minus the mental Event, which is unfortunate but was expected) so John is a little awkward in how he breaks the super filthy sexy time groove by going- ]
Wait, how would that work?
[ Because he's not used to being constrained by the usual restrictions of the human body and this one's not obvious to him. ]
I-It's not an objection. But you are going to have to show me this.
[ A blink, because he didn't realise this would be a logistical stumbling block for John. ]
Uh, you gotta...
[ ...actually these gestures with his fingers aren't helping at all are they. He drops his hand and looks at John with a fond and entertained and horny grin, and gives him a quick kiss on his irresistible mouth.
And then his grin is descending, because Charlie is sliding along to place himself between John's legs. With a fond smooch to his cock on the way, like kissing your spouse on the cheek in passing. ]
Make sure you're takin' notes for when I quiz you later, alright?
[ He slaps John's ass a couple of times for his attention. ]
[ There's something about that grin, and that little kiss, that undoes him as much as anything else. Charlie's so happy, so excited to show him things, utterly wicked and it's all-
It's wonderful.
He nods and looks down at Charlie, obviously a little unsure, but sure, he can lift his legs. Knees up, as requested! And thankfully, everything down there is exactly as one might expect to find it. John's in a 100% human body right now, built as the breach showed him how. No extras, no frills, no modifications. ]
[ Holding John's eyes, his own bright and pleased, he holds up his index and middle finger; works up saliva in his mouth; then slides his fingers in to the last knuckle. His throat moves to smooth out its gag reflex as his fingertips touch the back of his throat. He slides his tongue in between the fingers; then he slides them out again, wet, and holds them up again for John to see the line of saliva held between them. ]
It ain't the best lubricant, but it's what we got on hand. [ Hahahahahaha.
He looks down, pulling one of John's cheeks aside with his dry hand, coming to the uplifting thought that he's in bed with a guy with maybe the cleanest ass on the planet. He spits some more onto his fingers for good measure and slides them towards the small pucker of his asshole, starts pressing and circling it while his other hand drifts up and down John's raised thigh.
Hopeful, teasing, low in his chest: ] That feel good?
[ There is a little huffy look in his eyes that says 'how exactly do you think I you could lose my attention right now' from John to Charlie, but it's so fond it just comes off wry. Then he's watching Charlie fellate his own fingers and Charlie might notice that his cock is sitting up in interest again. Especially seeing the saliva gently hanging between his fingers. He has some idea of what's going on when Charlie presses his fingers in and...
Oh, Charlie will feel him full body shiver ]
Yesssss...
[ Charlie will also get to see his lips go a nice dark red as his teeth dent the lower lip a few times; after all, he can't move if Charlie's going to show him things. And watching Charlie is fucking difficult when he's being... all of this. ]
[ John's reaction, combined with what Charlie is being permitted - encouraged - to do, makes the warm and wonderful humming in his body kick up for a moment; there's a point when his eyes glaze and he shivers lightly too in a fainter echo. Then his focus is back on John's face and it takes no time at all to slide from teasing to hungrily intense. ]
Good. Good. Christ, John, you're goddamn beautiful on your back for me, I wanna make you move like that for hours.
[ He brings up his fingers to re-spit them, and then they disappear from John's sight again, massage his asshole again. And this time one presses in once it seems relaxed enough, just to the first knuckle, and crooks and pulls sideways at the circle of muscle because doing that would make Charlie's brain go bgbfbdnblrbl and he's rather hoping John will feel the same.
[ No one in this room wants John's brain to go bgbfbdnblrbl or @#$#$%$ or ASDGFBQWEEG or even !!!!11!!1!, but John gets about as close as he'd ever let himself when Charlie does that. Every single mark and sigil light up like lines of molten gold along his skin, almost like he's going to crack apart in those places and let something out from where he's hiding it. His muscles shake and that is definitely the sound of the sheet tearing between his fingers as he pants, open mouthed and glassy-eyed at Charlie. A word almost comes out before he bites down hard on his lower lip and instead, it's just a wanton whine, a desperate 'fuck me' noise if Charlie's ever heard one. He makes an effort to look at Charlie, to look at Charlie and nod.
[ Once again, Charlie's half scared, half out-of-his-mind horny. The sharp rip of the sheet jars him -- it's the first time John's damaged something, and he doesn't know if it was a real slip or just the sheet being deemed an acceptable target -- but this is still, thank god, just on the right side of thrilling. The right side of thrilling is a pretty big side.
He intensely wants to know whether John would go over the edge from his finger alone. On the flip side, he just as intensely feels that it would be a waste not to have John's cock bulging his throat out until it looks like a snake after a meal. ]
Good, [ he manages to say in awe, though he can hardly breathe and he's fairly certain he's seconds from spontaneous combustion. ] Good. [ And he regains his senses and pulls again at the inside of John's ass, wishing he had two heads so that he could go down on John and still watch every one of his shudders and expressions. ] You're perfect. Just like that. You're perfect.
[ His fingers are already dry again, but he doesn't need to slide around right now if John's already enjoying this so much. Instead he moves his finger in the smallest pushes -- and it'll ache, but maybe that'll be a bonus, or maybe at worst it'll be a small price to pay for the feeling of Charlie's fingertip moving and pulling inside him--
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it's tight and warm, and he's smart enough not to go from fingertip to entire dry cock but fuck it's on his mind-- ]
Christ, John, you're gonna feel my cock inside you one day. You're so tight, I shouldn't let you wear anything when you're here so I can always just reach down and...
[ Oops, he interrupted his own frantic monologue by sinking down on John's cock as far back in his mouth as it'll fit. That's the other part of the demonstration, after all! ]
[ Acceptable target. Anything that's not Charlie or important to Charlie. Anything that a strong human man could break or tear. The sheets tear because something needs to be torn and tattered like he feels right now, raw and aching and needful. The finger inside him is so much and not enough and there is a part of John tempted to bet on his ability to lie and say that tube of lubricant was definitely there the whole time, really and it says something that he even considers it.
Not that he can consider much of anything when Charlie dives onto his cock like a live grenade and starts sucking it down like he's saving lives instead of making one feel very very good and between the finger in his ass and the mouth around a greater portion of his dick, it's everything he can do not to levitate off the bed and make a cry that would scathe the flesh from mortal bones.
He is biting his lip now, panting and desperately, shaking in his stillness and Charlie will taste and feel the tip leaking into his mouth as his thighs clench tight and his ass squeezes like it can pull more in. ]
[ The feeling of John clenching around his finger, the sound of him panting Charlie's name, makes Charlie whimper desperately. A spasm runs down his body like a pleasurable cramp; he's dying for something to touch his cock, but his hands have very important business at John's ass and balls, and John's are all the way up there shredding duvets, so instead his hips move in an awkward rut.
With the thrill of getting even closer to a lit match, he lifts off John's cock for just long enough to spit onto his fingers again. And as he gets the head back in his mouth he pushes in the second finger -- again not all the way, but far enough to move the two fingers in different directions at once against John's insides, and then to force them apart into a shallow V. ]
You like that, don't you?
[ He mumbles it because he's talking around John's cock, and he mumbles it with heated smugness because he's already very aware of the answer. ]
[ The vibration and the movement of his lips and tongue to form those sounds are added stimulation, and Charlie will feel him shudder from it even as he clears his head just enough to use human language. ]
Charlie...
[ He should answer, but his answer is Charlie's name. He likes Charlie, he wants Charlie, he's surrounded by and squeezing around and rocking between Charlie, his fingers and his mouth- that V has his eyes rolled back so that only a thin line of gold is visible at the top. He wants-
He heard that whimper and he feels that rut against the bed, and he wants to reach over and do something but he's not in range. He decides, then, to use what he has, see it- yes, he'll see how Charlie likes it.
His voice is strained and hungry. ]
Are you spreading me to fuck me, Charlie?
[ This is dangerous as well, because his voice-
He has to keep it limited. Ask questions. He doesn't know if Charlie can stand him describing a scene, if the evocative images might trigger a response in Charlie's mind even though it's just words. So he'll take it slow. Piecemeal. Talk about it as a thing he wants, ask about it as a thing they want. Let Charlie take every step on his own steam.
And hope to God that Charlie has some cooking oil in his cabin. ]
[ He'd thought it might be too much too fast, but now that John's even intimated a hint that perhaps implies he wants it, the answer is yes.
At the same time, the sense of being nudged towards a conclusion, even one he'd practically already come to himself, is--
--something he's not dwelling on. ]
You'd like that, huh?
[ His voice is simmering and so is the rest of him. He twists his fingers. He lifts his face until his mouth is just touching the wet head of John's cock, blowing air across it when he talks. ]
Think you're ready for that? You think you can take my whole cock at once as nice as you're takin' my fingers? I wanna find out.
[ It's their lucky day, because he might have cooking oil yeah. ]
[ For all that they're walking the knife edges of a couple dozen different triggers*, the bucking just thrills him: it's pleasure, it's John, it's John feeling pleasure and Charlie giving it to him.
Okay. Okay. Okay, this means he has to think logistics, which is true dramatic irony considering the only thing he wants to think about is John whimpering and begging on his cock.
Okay. Focus. Make it happen.
*Charlie knows what those are now! ]
Don't move. No, ben-bend over the-- no, no, wait. I gotta... gotta get a thing. [ Words hard. ] Spitting won't cut it. [ Not that he's never fucked or been fucked dry, but that was almost always hurried and furtive, and over quickly, and that's not what this is. That's not what he wants for this.
Living area. Kitchenette. Oil? Oil! Oil for salads. There's a joke here somewhere but he's not stopping to think of it. He's back between John's legs as soon as possible, trying to maintain composure but betrayed utterly by his flush and his stare and his absolute lack of breath.
Charlie's eyes are glued on John's body as he lubes himself, groaning quietly at how good that alone feels after going untouched so far. Somehow, he maintains the patience to screw the lid back on the bottle before he puts it aside. ]
Okay, get... how far can you- lift your legs? Hold them up?
[ His cock is pretty well lubed at this point, but he's still slowly and lightly touching himself. ]
[ John gives an unhappy growling noise at the fingers being removed, Charlie's mouth removed, but he breathes in deep and lets his head drop back to breathe a few times until he hears Charlie nearer. Then there's the slick sound of the oil, his mind's eye telling him what it looks like for Charlie to stroke himself slick with it and the scent of it mixing strangely with the other heavy smells in the room. He's glad to hear the oil container be placed down on the bed table, within reach, before he's focusing back on Charlie's voice and what he'd ask.
He lifts his legs, spread them a little wider, and keeps his eyes closed, not looking. Waiting. Wanting.
Trust. He trusts Charlie to only bring him pleasure. ]
[ Charlie reads the closed eyes as anticipation, because John sure doesn't seem nervous. He rests his hands on John's lifted thighs, sliding up them easily, shuffles forwards on his knees.
He pauses for a moment to catch his breath at the landscape in front of him, the beautiful goddamn rolling hills and valleys of John. Feels the way he imagines the first men at the South Pole felt: shivering and awed, far from owners of the land and yet seeing their own footprints on it, relieved to be alive in every possible way to read that sentiment.
He slides his fingers across John's asshole, fumbles for a moment with his slippery hand to get a cheek aside for visibility and then his cock in the right place -- then slowly pushes inside.
The warm moving vice of John's ass drags a moan out of him, and with a face like he just lost half his braincells in one go he pushes the rest of the way in, as deep as he can. ]
[ The slippery hands on his ass gets an appreciative rumble, even with the fumble; it's still Charlie and his hands and those hands on him. But when he feels the head of Charlie's cock against him, he sucks in a breath... and sucks it in further as Charlie starts pushing in.
He can't help but arch his back, or the muscles that clench and unclench around Charlie's dick as the sensation of it thunders through him. He almost has enough time to think, let alone to think that Charlie's going to take this slowly, but then he pushes the rest of the way in and hits something that makes all the circuits in his body light at once as Charlie's sac settles against his ass.
The rumbling groan of it is enough to go through Charlie at the chest, or maybe it's the way he's shaking or maybe it's how the muscles clenched around Charlie's dick are flexing like they're trying to urge him on; it is a damn good thing he went to get the oil because it's hard to say if he'd be going anywhere without it.
Fuck.
[ Small and gasped. ]
Charlie.
[ Everything is lit, and John's thighs are taunt and shaking; there's no mistaking what he wants. ]
[ Charlie echoes, stripped down to a very narrow and specific vocabulary, and he leans over John and pulls out some of the way but just far enough to push in harder. ]
God-
[ He starts to find a rhythm, breathing and whimpering in time with it. Rolls his hips, trying to pinpoint the spot that's making John groan like that. One of his hands plays with the head of John's cock, but the movement is idle because everything in Charlie's body is pulling his attention to just one place. ]
John-
[ He closes his eyes, overwhelmed and focused completely on fucking John, an actual half of a god, an actual fragment of the King, someone who could break him like lightning splitting a tree, someone who has no reason to look twice at Charlie except that Charlie looked first, someone billions of years in age who has never had anybody do this before, someone to whom Charlie wants to deeply and energetically give good things. ]
That does not mean that when Charlie finds that point, that John doesn't keen like a dying thing before biting his lip and panting for more as his insides squeeze and flex and spasm, overwhelmed.
It means that so much of how taunt and desperate and needful he is has to do with Charlie, with the man who has every reason to hate him, had every reason to curse him, bringing him here, giving him this, wanting more than anything to give him such good things. That he is a rolling tide of pleasure inside a human form but he is also happy and filled with the nonsensical urge to stop everything just to kiss Charlie on the lips and tell him over and over how much he adores him, how brave he is, how kind he is, how much he matters and to John and it's not because of what he's here for or what he knows but because of who he chooses to be.
He's rocking into Charlie's thrusts, gasping more breaths than not, a veritable St. Sebastian pierced over and over again unable to find words. And thus one word becomes them all: ]
[ It's so much. John's body, his movements, are so much. John keening and gasping and babbling his name is so much. Charlie wants badly to cum but he also wants to keep rocking into John forever, but more than both of those he wants to control the pace. So his own movements are steady and forceful, and on a couple of occasions his muscles clench with the focused effort of not tipping over the edge, and he says oh fuck and John with about five syllables apiece because he is barely curating what comes out of his mouth at this point.
His patience isn't infinite, though. So presently he speeds up, a rough note coming out of his throat with each landing in the deepest part of John he can manage. And he goes from holding John's cock to squeezing and pumping it, because fuck, he wants to cum and he wants them to do it together.
[ John is awash in feelings, sensations. Getting fucked is one of them, but there's something to Charlie's words, breathes out to him like the filthiest prophecy, that he can't deny. There's a shudder, more intense than the shaking of his thighs, and his back arches to slam Charlie into exactly the right spot, and then John is doing exactly what he was told.
Charlie will feel it in his hand, feel John lose it, just like he did in his mouth what feels like a lifetime ago, and the slick hot vice grip around Charlie will only intensify as John's mouth opens, he jams one fist in there, and then a thunderous growl at his release. ]
[ John's rib-shaking growl as he cums, and the physical sensations in Charlie's fist and around his cock, are somehow second to the fact that Charlie said to unravel and John did. And all of those things together take Charlie quickly down with him. He says John's name in about three different keys and volumes; his hips judder forwards into John, until the scales tip over into too-sensitive and he comes gently to a standstill, though he doesn't yet pull out.
He breathes deeply and slowly, while shocks like electricity go off here and there under his skin, and he runs his hands down the sweating insides of John's thighs like he's soothing him. He's--
--he catches himself going away and brings himself aggressively back to the present, and above all he tries to not think too much this time. He wants to be here feeling fond and awed and spent. He also doesn't want to be so present that he freaks out. It's a delicate balance, but somehow, he finds, not as difficult as it was last time. Maybe the terror is less when he's so unequivocally setting the pace. ]
[ John pulls his hand out of his mouth, catches the dents in his knuckles, and misses the dimples disappearing as he looks up to watch Charlie, look into his eyes, see him walk that line between here and not, between intense pleasure and satisfaction and the bigger reality.
He'll reach that hand over, just a light pressure on the back of the palm as his chest goes from heaving to something more steady. ]
[ If Charlie is looking, he'll be able to see how much that little kiss somehow makes everything in him flutter despite everything else they've just done. His teeth dent his lower lip as he listens to Charlie's praise and Charlie will feel a soft clench around his soft cock. John... might very much like compliments like that from Charlie. ]
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no subject
Wait, how would that work?
[ Because he's not used to being constrained by the usual restrictions of the human body and this one's not obvious to him. ]
I-It's not an objection. But you are going to have to show me this.
no subject
Uh, you gotta...
[ ...actually these gestures with his fingers aren't helping at all are they. He drops his hand and looks at John with a fond and entertained and horny grin, and gives him a quick kiss on his irresistible mouth.
And then his grin is descending, because Charlie is sliding along to place himself between John's legs. With a fond smooch to his cock on the way, like kissing your spouse on the cheek in passing. ]
Make sure you're takin' notes for when I quiz you later, alright?
[ He slaps John's ass a couple of times for his attention. ]
Knees up!
no subject
It's wonderful.
He nods and looks down at Charlie, obviously a little unsure, but sure, he can lift his legs. Knees up, as requested! And thankfully, everything down there is exactly as one might expect to find it. John's in a 100% human body right now, built as the breach showed him how. No extras, no frills, no modifications. ]
W-what's next?
no subject
[ Holding John's eyes, his own bright and pleased, he holds up his index and middle finger; works up saliva in his mouth; then slides his fingers in to the last knuckle. His throat moves to smooth out its gag reflex as his fingertips touch the back of his throat. He slides his tongue in between the fingers; then he slides them out again, wet, and holds them up again for John to see the line of saliva held between them. ]
It ain't the best lubricant, but it's what we got on hand. [ Hahahahahaha.
He looks down, pulling one of John's cheeks aside with his dry hand, coming to the uplifting thought that he's in bed with a guy with maybe the cleanest ass on the planet. He spits some more onto his fingers for good measure and slides them towards the small pucker of his asshole, starts pressing and circling it while his other hand drifts up and down John's raised thigh.
Hopeful, teasing, low in his chest: ] That feel good?
no subject
Oh, Charlie will feel him full body shiver ]
Yesssss...
[ Charlie will also get to see his lips go a nice dark red as his teeth dent the lower lip a few times; after all, he can't move if Charlie's going to show him things. And watching Charlie is fucking difficult when he's being... all of this. ]
no subject
Good. Good. Christ, John, you're goddamn beautiful on your back for me, I wanna make you move like that for hours.
[ He brings up his fingers to re-spit them, and then they disappear from John's sight again, massage his asshole again. And this time one presses in once it seems relaxed enough, just to the first knuckle, and crooks and pulls sideways at the circle of muscle because doing that would make Charlie's brain go bgbfbdnblrbl and he's rather hoping John will feel the same.
Heated: ] How about that?
no subject
He's-
Yeah, that's good. Yeah, that's- that's really good. Do that, please. ]
no subject
He intensely wants to know whether John would go over the edge from his finger alone. On the flip side, he just as intensely feels that it would be a waste not to have John's cock bulging his throat out until it looks like a snake after a meal. ]
Good, [ he manages to say in awe, though he can hardly breathe and he's fairly certain he's seconds from spontaneous combustion. ] Good. [ And he regains his senses and pulls again at the inside of John's ass, wishing he had two heads so that he could go down on John and still watch every one of his shudders and expressions. ] You're perfect. Just like that. You're perfect.
[ His fingers are already dry again, but he doesn't need to slide around right now if John's already enjoying this so much. Instead he moves his finger in the smallest pushes -- and it'll ache, but maybe that'll be a bonus, or maybe at worst it'll be a small price to pay for the feeling of Charlie's fingertip moving and pulling inside him--
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it's tight and warm, and he's smart enough not to go from fingertip to entire dry cock but fuck it's on his mind-- ]
Christ, John, you're gonna feel my cock inside you one day. You're so tight, I shouldn't let you wear anything when you're here so I can always just reach down and...
[ Oops, he interrupted his own frantic monologue by sinking down on John's cock as far back in his mouth as it'll fit. That's the other part of the demonstration, after all! ]
no subject
Not that he can consider much of anything when Charlie dives onto his cock like a live grenade and starts sucking it down like he's saving lives instead of making one feel very very good and between the finger in his ass and the mouth around a greater portion of his dick, it's everything he can do not to levitate off the bed and make a cry that would scathe the flesh from mortal bones.
He is biting his lip now, panting and desperately, shaking in his stillness and Charlie will taste and feel the tip leaking into his mouth as his thighs clench tight and his ass squeezes like it can pull more in. ]
Fu-uu-uhck Charlie...
no subject
With the thrill of getting even closer to a lit match, he lifts off John's cock for just long enough to spit onto his fingers again. And as he gets the head back in his mouth he pushes in the second finger -- again not all the way, but far enough to move the two fingers in different directions at once against John's insides, and then to force them apart into a shallow V. ]
You like that, don't you?
[ He mumbles it because he's talking around John's cock, and he mumbles it with heated smugness because he's already very aware of the answer. ]
no subject
Charlie...
[ He should answer, but his answer is Charlie's name. He likes Charlie, he wants Charlie, he's surrounded by and squeezing around and rocking between Charlie, his fingers and his mouth- that V has his eyes rolled back so that only a thin line of gold is visible at the top. He wants-
He heard that whimper and he feels that rut against the bed, and he wants to reach over and do something but he's not in range. He decides, then, to use what he has, see it- yes, he'll see how Charlie likes it.
His voice is strained and hungry. ]
Are you spreading me to fuck me, Charlie?
[ This is dangerous as well, because his voice-
He has to keep it limited. Ask questions. He doesn't know if Charlie can stand him describing a scene, if the evocative images might trigger a response in Charlie's mind even though it's just words. So he'll take it slow. Piecemeal. Talk about it as a thing he wants, ask about it as a thing they want. Let Charlie take every step on his own steam.
And hope to God that Charlie has some cooking oil in his cabin. ]
no subject
At the same time, the sense of being nudged towards a conclusion, even one he'd practically already come to himself, is--
--something he's not dwelling on. ]
You'd like that, huh?
[ His voice is simmering and so is the rest of him. He twists his fingers. He lifts his face until his mouth is just touching the wet head of John's cock, blowing air across it when he talks. ]
Think you're ready for that? You think you can take my whole cock at once as nice as you're takin' my fingers? I wanna find out.
[ It's their lucky day, because he might have cooking oil yeah. ]
no subject
I don't know. [ Panted, barely holding to an edge now that it's real. Now that it might happen. ] but I want it. Charlie... Please.
[ He shifts his hips to press the fingers just a little deeper in and shivers. ]
no subject
Okay. Okay. Okay, this means he has to think logistics, which is true dramatic irony considering the only thing he wants to think about is John whimpering and begging on his cock.
Okay. Focus. Make it happen.
*Charlie knows what those are now! ]
Don't move. No, ben-bend over the-- no, no, wait. I gotta... gotta get a thing. [ Words hard. ] Spitting won't cut it. [ Not that he's never fucked or been fucked dry, but that was almost always hurried and furtive, and over quickly, and that's not what this is. That's not what he wants for this.
Living area. Kitchenette. Oil? Oil! Oil for salads. There's a joke here somewhere but he's not stopping to think of it. He's back between John's legs as soon as possible, trying to maintain composure but betrayed utterly by his flush and his stare and his absolute lack of breath.
Charlie's eyes are glued on John's body as he lubes himself, groaning quietly at how good that alone feels after going untouched so far. Somehow, he maintains the patience to screw the lid back on the bottle before he puts it aside. ]
Okay, get... how far can you- lift your legs? Hold them up?
[ His cock is pretty well lubed at this point, but he's still slowly and lightly touching himself. ]
no subject
He lifts his legs, spread them a little wider, and keeps his eyes closed, not looking. Waiting. Wanting.
Trust. He trusts Charlie to only bring him pleasure. ]
no subject
He pauses for a moment to catch his breath at the landscape in front of him, the beautiful goddamn rolling hills and valleys of John. Feels the way he imagines the first men at the South Pole felt: shivering and awed, far from owners of the land and yet seeing their own footprints on it, relieved to be alive in every possible way to read that sentiment.
He slides his fingers across John's asshole, fumbles for a moment with his slippery hand to get a cheek aside for visibility and then his cock in the right place -- then slowly pushes inside.
The warm moving vice of John's ass drags a moan out of him, and with a face like he just lost half his braincells in one go he pushes the rest of the way in, as deep as he can. ]
no subject
He can't help but arch his back, or the muscles that clench and unclench around Charlie's dick as the sensation of it thunders through him. He almost has enough time to think, let alone to think that Charlie's going to take this slowly, but then he pushes the rest of the way in and hits something that makes all the circuits in his body light at once as Charlie's sac settles against his ass.
The rumbling groan of it is enough to go through Charlie at the chest, or maybe it's the way he's shaking or maybe it's how the muscles clenched around Charlie's dick are flexing like they're trying to urge him on; it is a damn good thing he went to get the oil because it's hard to say if he'd be going anywhere without it.
Fuck.
[ Small and gasped. ]
Charlie.
[ Everything is lit, and John's thighs are taunt and shaking; there's no mistaking what he wants. ]
no subject
[ Charlie echoes, stripped down to a very narrow and specific vocabulary, and he leans over John and pulls out some of the way but just far enough to push in harder. ]
God-
[ He starts to find a rhythm, breathing and whimpering in time with it. Rolls his hips, trying to pinpoint the spot that's making John groan like that. One of his hands plays with the head of John's cock, but the movement is idle because everything in Charlie's body is pulling his attention to just one place. ]
John-
[ He closes his eyes, overwhelmed and focused completely on fucking John, an actual half of a god, an actual fragment of the King, someone who could break him like lightning splitting a tree, someone who has no reason to look twice at Charlie except that Charlie looked first, someone billions of years in age who has never had anybody do this before, someone to whom Charlie wants to deeply and energetically give good things. ]
no subject
That does not mean that when Charlie finds that point, that John doesn't keen like a dying thing before biting his lip and panting for more as his insides squeeze and flex and spasm, overwhelmed.
It means that so much of how taunt and desperate and needful he is has to do with Charlie, with the man who has every reason to hate him, had every reason to curse him, bringing him here, giving him this, wanting more than anything to give him such good things. That he is a rolling tide of pleasure inside a human form but he is also happy and filled with the nonsensical urge to stop everything just to kiss Charlie on the lips and tell him over and over how much he adores him, how brave he is, how kind he is, how much he matters and to John and it's not because of what he's here for or what he knows but because of who he chooses to be.
He's rocking into Charlie's thrusts, gasping more breaths than not, a veritable St. Sebastian pierced over and over again unable to find words. And thus one word becomes them all: ]
Charlie.
Charlie...
C h a r l i e...
Charlie charlie charlie please charlie!
no subject
His patience isn't infinite, though. So presently he speeds up, a rough note coming out of his throat with each landing in the deepest part of John he can manage. And he goes from holding John's cock to squeezing and pumping it, because fuck, he wants to cum and he wants them to do it together.
Rapid, and gasped: ]
You're gonna cum. Cum for me. Do it.
no subject
Charlie will feel it in his hand, feel John lose it, just like he did in his mouth what feels like a lifetime ago, and the slick hot vice grip around Charlie will only intensify as John's mouth opens, he jams one fist in there, and then a thunderous growl at his release. ]
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He breathes deeply and slowly, while shocks like electricity go off here and there under his skin, and he runs his hands down the sweating insides of John's thighs like he's soothing him. He's--
--he catches himself going away and brings himself aggressively back to the present, and above all he tries to not think too much this time. He wants to be here feeling fond and awed and spent. He also doesn't want to be so present that he freaks out. It's a delicate balance, but somehow, he finds, not as difficult as it was last time. Maybe the terror is less when he's so unequivocally setting the pace. ]
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He'll reach that hand over, just a light pressure on the back of the palm as his chest goes from heaving to something more steady. ]
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--and he squashes them firmly to the ground, and turns his hand to grasp John's, and lifts it up, leaning forwards, and kisses it. ]
You were so good. [ His voice isn't anywhere close to the rumble John can achieve, but next to Charlie's speaking voice it's a rumble. ] Jesus Christ.
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