ettersberg | AD ASTRA 🚀 INBOX

[ the exposed line of william's neck when his head goes back, the hitch in his breath-- those catch thomas's attention far more than the shrapnel scars or lack of limb and it takes thomas a moment to drag his gaze away, to return to the task at hand.

which is really only getting into the shower. he's performed far more difficult and less pleasant tasks in his life. and once he's resumed control of his limbs, that's what he does in short order, reaching one hand out to william's waist less to steady himself as for the sheer joy of touching.

voice a little rough: ] How does it feel?

[The sensations change as Thomas steps into the shower. The water hits his skin differently. The heat of another body adds a distinct warmth from the pleasant temperature of the water. The fingers on his hip send a shock of warmth through him, radiating from the spot where the familiar touch has come to rest.

William's eyes flutter closed for a moment, spine arching slightly from the wall.]

Wonderful. [A sigh as much as a word. A purr as much as a full thought.] But not as good as you.

[ thomas leans in, quite carefully keeping their bodies apart, to kiss william. if they touch, if he lets himself lean against the long lines of william, slide a leg between william's thighs, he thinks this will all be over far too soon and he will not be able to untangle himself again until it is. not a terrible fate, of course, but-- he does have plans. admittedly, plans that he decided on only a second ago, but plans nonetheless.

the kiss breaks and he lingers there for a moment, their breaths mingling, before ] Allow me- [ sinking to his knees, both hands on william's hips to steady himself on the descend. his knees won't thank him for it, but he remembers what his knees were like when his body was well over 80; a little discomfort will be very worth getting his mouth on william now. ]

[The torture of the kiss is exquisite. The press of lips is a delight, of course, but the sensation of being held back this way is an incredible thrill.

Not nearly as thrilling as the shift of Thomas moving to his knees, of course.]

Oh-- please.

[His fingers move from himself to smooth contentedly into the other man's hair. It would be nice to close his eyes and relax entirely, but it's far too much of a delight to see exactly who it is crowding in the shower with him.]

[ the truth of the matter is that thomas loves this-- the weight of a cock on his tongue, the feeling of soft skin and hardness, the taste of it. the sounds he can draw from william like this, that please, the hand in his hair.

he hums in response, in encouragement, taking william a little deeper. ]

[The hum is answered with an unrepentant moan, soft and low but undeniably reverberating through the warm heavy air of the little washroom. So much nicer, after all, to feel utterly unashamed of allowing himself the things that truly sent his heart racing.

All the control left in William has to be concentrated in his hips and his fingers, keeping both as still as he can manage. It's his fingers that slip slightly, grip tightening a hair from gently to needing, before he can force himself to relax again.

The trouble with teasing, apparently, is that it starts moments like this at quite a high tempo.]

[ the moan goes right through thomas--there's something wonderful, something intoxicating about knowing that he pulled that noise from william. about the (admittedly unnecessary) evidence that william is enjoying himself.

william's fingers tighten in his hair and thomas finds himself moaning in response, a little choked-off noise, taking william just a little deeper.

he doesn't mind, in truth. ]

[Much better than being alone. Much better than imagining that someone is here with him.]

Oh... [He forces his fingers to relax, smoothing gently over now-damp curls. His voice comes soft and purring, barely louder than the patter of water against the walls of the shower.] ...Thomas...

[Just a little longer like this. Just a few more luxurious moments before he'll need to tug at the other man's hair again in warning.]

[ the truth of it, a truth that thomas has spent a long time hiding because it was not the sort of thing that was done, that a man of his station (or any man at all, really) ought to feel, the truth is that thomas loves this. loves being on his knees for another man, loves the weight of a cock on his tongue, the stretch of his mouth around it and the slight ache of his jaw, the pleasure he can give this way.

he loves this and his own cock is achingly hard with it. loves it so much that when william tugs at his hair in warning, he thinks about ignoring the implication, about doubling down his efforts instead of easing up. thinks about swallowing william down until he feels him spill down his throat, and moans with the thought--

but there are other things he loves, too, and william said something about unmaking the bed.

he pulls back, letting william linger on his tongue, on his lips as long as he can before pressing his face to william's thigh and just breathing through how badly he wants.

voice rough, ] Promise you'll fuck me into your sheets?

[It's difficult to say what the best thing about being here is. There are a number of factors and balances, beyond the fact that "best" will always been counterbalanced by the fact that they've been stolen from their respective homes and can't be where the feeling in their bones tell them to be.

But moments like this rate somewhere wonderfully high up.

This particular moment--falling over the edge at the low murmur of Thomas's voice against his skin, hand barely catching himself away so that the mess of being pushed to release is more a problem for the shower than the man kneeling before him--is certainly completely distracting from the downsides. All his mind can manage to cling to is the breathless joy of this small space, of this warm connection.

It takes a few gulping breaths before he can nod.] In-- just a moment, darling. I promise.

[ thomas turns his face just in time to see william spill, jerking with it, positioned away just in time. it doesn't help his own need, the insistent ache of it, but--

thomas is a patient man. ]

There's no rush. [ he manages, after clearing his throat. he sounds as wrecked as william, he thinks, and turns back to mouth at william's thigh, no real goal in mind but wanting the contact.

there isn't any rush, really, but-- ] Please.

[They've been patient their entire lives. They've lived with not quite enough, with too little time and too great a need, with finding sufficient satisfaction from nights that still left an ache.

It's such a blessing, being allowed to linger here with Thomas still warm and close--with the easy promise of more at their own pace.]

Bed. [He's still breathless. The throb in his entire being is still pitching slowly downward, coming back under control. Still, William is entirely certain it won't take terribly long to be ready again if they keep up this lovely tangling together.] Now.

[There's no rush, but there's need.]

Yes- [ it's breathless, acknowledgment and pleasure and acquiescence. his fingers dig into william's hips for a moment as thomas moves to stand, a little slow on account of his knees-- not as bad as they once were, not by a long stretch, but his body has not reverted back to its early twenties. and then he is close and he finds that he wants, needs to kiss william before he can even think to move out of the shower and toward the bed.

his own aching desire is almost distant, but anticipation makes it all the more pressing. ]

[This is an acceptable distraction from the immediacy of "now." His fingers lift, wet, perhaps sticky, to curl against the back of Thomas's neck for a heartbeat, clinging gently to the kiss.

It's wonderful, having something sweet and real in the middle of all this heat and need.

It's also wonderful, after a moment, to nip at the other man's lower lip and start to push them forward.]

[ thomas shivers a little-- from the kiss, from the feel of william's fingers curling over his neck, most certainly from william's teeth against his lower lips.

for a moment, thomas fumbles blindly toward getting out of the shower. in the end, in the interest of not breaking any bones, he finds himself breaking the kiss to actually look at where he's going, to grab at a towel and then another one to hand to william.

(if he uses the towel in his hands not to dry himself off, but to dab at william's skin, well. surely, that is only proper and thus needs no explanation or forgiveness.) ]

[He has to laugh, soft and utterly pleased as the towel he's rubbing over his own hair is joined by the one Thomas has kept hold of. There's something almost absurd about the moment--being allowed the time and space to fumble between fits of passion with a man he genuinely adores, being caught in the sort of quiet intimacy he'd never have dared to dream of properly reaching with anyone who might have been deemed suited to be his spouse.

His own towel is slightly damp as he swats it lightly at the other man's chest, still laughing with complete abandon.] We'll never make it, at this rate.

[But they have time for that as well. They have time to linger here in quiet appreciation without rushing to steal a few moments longer. It sends a painful joy straight to the pit of William's stomach, towel slung briefly over his own shoulder so his fingers can be used to catch Thomas's chin for another soft kiss.]

[ it's absurd, maybe, and thomas is so hard, has been for so long now that he'd be amazed if any blood was left in his brain at all. maybe that explains some of the fumbling. maybe it's absurd, but it's also —it's joyful. it's making william laugh, swatting his towel and thomas's chest, eyes crinkling.

thomas hasn't had that in so long. he's not sure he's ever had that, this uncomplicated joy interrupting the focus of desire.

and then william is kissing him again and thomas sighs into it, desire taking the lead again as he presses close and is reminded of how desperately hard he is when his hips come into contact with william's thigh.

his moan might be a little absurd, too, startlingly loud in the kiss, but he's let most if not all his defenses down around william and so it doesn't get swallowed in time. ]

We're probably dry enough, [ he manages after a moment. ]

AD ASTRA 🚀 INBOX

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject