[There's an earnestness to the way Jonas waves himself from the topic, choosing to focus on the moment between them, bodies warming to arousal, a flush of color he can see already blooming on the bridge of Jonas's nose. He's kissed twice in different places — like Jonas is asking, let's have sex instead.
Of course it works. At least for now, he doesn't have to think about how he's going to feel spending the night with another man. Someone who isn't Abel, in his arms.]
Okay, okay. [A snicker.] You don't gotta ask... but I like hearing 'please'.
[Cain closes strong hands over wriggling hips, callused fingers denting the skin just above the waistband of jeans. Then he hooks in his thumbs and pulls — the pants aren't too tight that he has to go for zipper or button to release, but they aren't loose either, so Jonas may feel the drag of denim right over his cock. The motion leaves him in just his underwear. There's little hesitation, just an appreciative look pointed down before Cain slopes forward, dragging his mouth across the flat plane of Jonas's abdomen and then right to his crotch, lips forming over the shape of a dick underneath.]
Heh, you're already so hard... [He's noticed Jonas likes to talk, so maybe he's trying a little just for him.] Good boy.
[He molds his mouth over Jonas's covered cock again in something like a kiss if it wasn't so obscene, lips and tongue wetting the fabric in broad strokes.]
( Such a powerful fucking thrill rockets up his spine when Cain's mouth presses between his legs.
He thought being released from his pants was good enough, spreading his legs wider to enjoy the extra room—he's smothering his moan against the back of his hand when trailing lips target him through boxer briefs instead. Fabric clings to tensing thighs as his teeth distractedly dent a knuckle. )
"Good boy"?
( Jesus fucking Christ. That alone would've been enough to dampen the front of his underwear if Cain's tongue hadn't gotten there first.
Grasping forward at Cain's muscular shoulder, his touch strokes up his neck and ear before sinking into soft, dyed hair. The blue streaks are cute, adding personality to a man already so full of it; they can't distract him from pinpointed pleasure, though, and he needs something to hang onto. )
You're killing me, man. If you spring a "daddy" thing on me... Haha, I swear...
[There's a snicker smothered somewhere between Jonas's legs, pressed right up against the shape of that bulge he's nursing with his mouth exactly for those little reactions. The fingers in his hair feel good, so he doesn't hesitate in nudging his head up against them as both hands find the other man's narrow hips to hold him to the thin mattress.]
Nah, that's not really my kink. Unless you want it — I'd do it for you, sweetheart.
[It's fun. It feels playful, humming as he hooks fingertips into the edge of boxer-briefs and hikes them down, rolling the band over Jonas's thighs until he's forced to lean back to get them the rest of the way off. So Jonas is completely naked except for shoes and socks — which Cain thinks is a hot look on him, if the dark gaze he levels is any indication, smirk broad across his mouth.]
You look so fucking good like this. [Instead of immediately returning to his task, he takes a moment to appreciate Jonas underneath him with legs spread, cock visibly jutting up against his belly. Cain drags his hands over bare skin everywhere he can reach, then folds forward and nips gently at a nipple.] Mm... you're so soft. I wanna leave marks all over you.
( Looking at Cain is hard, even for someone not easily embarrassed. It feels disarming in a way he's never encountered, and being exposed so completely to a male partner is new enough to make him nervous. The good kind, though, where anticipation for what's to come makes his stomach tight and his balls tighter.
Jonas exhales in wavering increments, trying to keep still under Cain's hot touch—with some degree of success. )
Uh, thanks... You—Ah— ( The shock of having his nipple focused on introduces a bend in his spine, elbows sliding back on the cot to push his chest forward. Why does that feel so good? ) Fuck, do whatever. Oh, my God...
( Being riddled with hickeys sounds sexy, and having Cain's mouth all over him... licking? Sucking? His next exhale lilts into a higher moan, thighs coming together on either side of his partner's hips to squeeze him there, muscle flexing under every finger stroke.
He has to reach down between his legs to sweep his cock up from its place in a dark thatch of pubic hair, giving it a one-two pump to alleviate some of the pressure building. Doesn't help, of course, only makes his needs more acute, and he leaves it to instead grasp lower at his sack then run his palm up his groin. )
[Oh, it's hotter than he expects to see Jonas touch himself like that. Cain's dark gaze just watches it happen as his mouth wanders, working first at a nipple until he leaves it red and shiny and swollen — then sucking a hickey to the surface of skin below his collar. Nowhere Jonas wouldn't be able to hide under a shirt, although lips drift up the column of his throat like he's thinking about leaving one there too where it can't easily be concealed. So that when he leaves Cain's tent in the morning, it won't be possible to deny what happened here.
There's a harmless scrape of teeth at Jonas's jawline before he retreats south. Hands, meanwhile, drag themselves over every inch he can reach in broad strokes, sweeping briefly under Jonas's hips to deliver a possessive squeeze over the curve of his ass.]
'Do whatever'? Dunno if you should give me that much freedom, [words exhaled as his nose buries into those curls low on Jonas's belly, nuzzling the more delicate skin of a pelvis.] I've got a big imagination.
[But he won't neglect Jonas for too long. He can see the needy jut of his cock, flushed full with arousal — bringing his own hand over to form a loose fist at the root of it. He doesn't introduce his mouth yet, kissing around instead, sucking at the tight skin of balls when he gets low enough to reach them. Jonas will feel his dick rub up against Cain's cheek, but it's almost like an unintentional consequence of where he's positioned himself between the man's legs.]
( Watching this dangerous crawl down his body, Jonas' fingers sink into thin and itchy bedsheets below him. Beside his hip, they gather material, disturbing the liquor bottle that's been bumping coolly against his skin. It has no chance of calming the feverishness of his skin, but it's just another sensation that feels fucking good, especially when it's rolled further when Cain takes handfuls of his ass. )
Fuck— ( Shit, damn, cocksucker, mother of—Turning to press his mouth shyly against a hitched shoulder, Cain's lips on his sack pull a sound from his throat he's never heard himself make.
It's not a whine, but it's not a groan. It's pitchy, breathless, almost pained. Sensitivity makes his thighs want to clamp together to both get Cain away and anchor his head so he can't go anywhere. He only just manages to resist, experiencing a soft quake in his adductors as his legs are instead forced to open wider. )
I'm gonna come. I'm... I'm serious, I'm close. I'm close, what the fuck...
( There's no grieving this fact, not when they have all night. Instead, Jonas laughs breathlessly, grips low and tightly around the base of his cock, removing a percent chance of orgasm. He can't blow a load anywhere but on Cain's lips, and Goddamn, he'll take the deep ache to do that.
He doesn't wait for a roaming mouth to get around to opening around him, though. With a playful slap of a precome-dampened cock against his partner's cheek, they're reintroduced, and with his other hand, hair is again grabbed—more forcefully this time—to reorient Cain's face. )
So, you want to be, like... told what to do instead, then? Open, ( Jonas commands Cain like a dog who has something he shouldn't in his mouth. ) Please... I want your mouth so bad.
[Jonas is so responsive it's a little unreal, like he's been handed the perfect gift of a man, those words a thrilling spill of encouragement that go straight to his head and his own dick. He could spend an hour just like this with his nose buried between spread legs, losing himself in the heady scent of sex and those sweet sounds, the way Jonas writhes, every uncontrollable twitch and flex of muscle another evocative signal of pleasure.
What he isn't expecting is that next command. He wouldn't mind if Jonas came early — there's no failure in the rhythm of sex like this, in his opinion, and it'd be fucking hot to see him lose control. Maybe it'd get on his face; maybe it'd just coat Jonas's belly and chest and give Cain the opportunity to lick it all up. But then there's a hand in his hair pulling at the scalp, jarring a gasp out of him as he's redirected. The slap of a hard cock against his cheek is surprisingly vulgar, though it only serves to twist lust deep into the pit of his stomach as a response.
He doesn't hesitate to deliver his mouth, then, on that word. Open. The seal of red lips part as he sinks down over the head of Jonas's dick, mouth soft and yielding, aware there won't be much time to tease so he just goes all the way — swallowing the length down to the very root where his nose tickles into dark curls, no gag reflex to limit how deep he takes it in. The muffled vibration of a moan will be felt, less for Jonas's intentional benefit than just a way to express how good it is to have his throat filled like this. Hands seize Jonas's waist in expectation of a swift orgasm, thumbs digging into the curve of hips to hold. Cain's knees are braced on the bed for balance and leverage; even if Jonas thrashes, he should have the strength to keep lips wrapped around his cock.]
( What a fucking gasp. Cain's the hottest thing he's ever seen, especially when he's turned on; what stroke of luck that they found each other for company on this stupid rock. On the Theorem. He can't thank his stars when he's smearing his cock tip against a plush lower lip, though. They both have duties to perform here, and he is devoting himself to his with his whole dick.
Cain obeys him, which almost does it for him. Jonas feels the hot wave of pre-orgasm with a tense in his thighs as he's deepthroated. Experiences such complete pleasure that his fingers tighten painfully in Cain's hair, hips tilting up to bury himself further into a tight throat. )
That's, ah--Shit, Cain, I...
( Sucking a breath through his teeth in a wince as he comes, his thighs close on either side of Cain's head, leg shoving at the edge of the mattress of the cot. )
Fuck, I'm--
( Whether his friend wanted his come in his mouth or not, Jonas loses sense of how firmly he's holding Cain's head down. He bucks, twists, and shouts his bliss at the tent ceiling, uncaring about being heard by those outside. It doesn't fucking matter to him; they're extras right now, forgettable as he thrusts shallowly against Cain's face.
Only when the pulsing of his cock stops and he's collapsing back onto the cot does he release Cain. Not without stroking a hand back through his hair and down the length of his neck. He has to open his eyes at him through the haze, joyful tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Then he blinks, waking, and feels a jolt of worry.
Holy shit. Did he just do that? Sweating, pushing hair away from his flushed forehead, he reaches forward to touch his partner. )
[There's bliss found in being shoved down so far onto Jonas's dick he can't breathe — one last harsh inhale through his nose before those hands are holding him down, before naked thighs close around his head, denying any attempt to resurface. Not that he's going to do that. Of course he won't fucking do that.
Jonas is loud, but similarly there's no care for those who could overhear them. He's more intoxicated by how effortless it is to drive him to such a powerful orgasm so quickly, obsessed with that sensitivity, how reactive Jonas is underneath him — it's no task at all to tighten lips in a wet seal and clench his throat, narrowing the hot channel over Jonas's cock so it's all he can possibly feel in those last tense, shivering seconds.
He doesn't choke when the flood of come hits the back of his mouth, only swallows deeply, humming around the burden of a cock and squirming in closer where he's captured by legs. It's not like he's trying to show off, but he does know that he's good at this; he's had a lot of practice. And he loves it every time — even better for black eyes to flicker up to a flushed face, admiring Jonas in the deep throes of that pleasure, clearly affected.
When Jonas begins to soften on his tongue, he pulls off with a slick sound, wiping his mouth on the back of a wrist. His expression is dark and low-lidded, a very private look as he crawls back up Jonas's body on hands and knees.]
Ahh... that was so fucking hot. [Cain's voice is a little hoarse when he speaks. Hands are wandering again, touching freely. He squeezes Jonas's pecs, then down to hips and thighs.] Why wouldn't I be okay? I just made you come so hard you screamed.
( He's dazedly surprised to be greeted by such a devastatingly attractive crawl over him so soon after orgasming. After his cock slides out of a tight, hot throat and Cain celebrates his loss of control. Fuck angels, tactile clouds, and everlasting joy, this is about as close to heaven he'll ever get. )
Mmm... ( Hummed at Cain with his neck craned. His body throbs with good feeling, reacts still to wandering touches and squeezes. ) Hope so. Give 'em something to jack off to...
( His heart rate doesn't slow, but when he feels a tickle of cold air against his leg, it does leap in his chest. Jonas props himself up quickly enough that their faces are inches apart, speaking wide-eyed and confused at Cain. )
Oh, my God, dude, I forgot to zip the tent flap when I came in.
( Trying to see past his partner's arm, grasping upward to mess with black hair—just for the hell of it—a smile appears before being quickly hidden by the curve of a deeply tanned shoulder. Light as a feather right now and tickled pink, he begins to laugh as he kisses and licks up the side of Cain's neck.
Finally finding the bottle of liquor that keeps rolling around on the cot against them, it's given a swish upward. The party's begun, but only just. )
Don't mind us, just a couple of fucking idiots in here—literally. My whole ass is out, hahaha... Hey, hey... kiss me with a mouthful of this.
( this is what happens when dudebros get together..... )
[There's just laughter. Whole, effusive, spilling from reddened lips — a response to Jonas's display of pleasure and to the humor in his realization. Cain doesn't care that much; it's not like getting caught here has any real consequences. Maybe part of him even likes the idea of others knowing, because it means they won't try to approach Jonas themselves unless they want to deal with Cain.
Well, that's just the possessive part of his brain he can't just shut off. The marks he's already taken to leaving all over Jonas's neck and shoulders when they're together are proof enough.]
Haha... Don't worry, I'll make sure nobody sees your ass but me. [As if to make the point, he reaches down to squeeze it.] Okay, c'mere, just don't spill it everywhere.
[Dudebros sharing hard liquor in hot and heavy makeouts... yes, he's having a great time with that, leaning obediently to seal his mouth over Jonas's wet lips and licking inside, tasting that burn of vodka. They roll a little on the cot; there's not enough room for real roughhousing, but he has fun with it anyway, snatching the bottle to return the favor where Jonas half-sprawls on top of him now. Cain swallows a mouthful only to share it in another messy kiss, trickles escaping at the tight corners of lips.]
Mmmhh, ( he hums playfully into their first wet kiss, only momentarily wincing when his ass is grabbed, and liquor burns his mouth. God, he's still so achingly turned on; they have to keep this momentum going. Get drunk, fuck around, wile away the hours on this planet of dirt and glass.
Groaning for Cain authentically, just a bit louder than is strictly necessary, Jonas spreads his hands over a broad, heaving chest. )
Wow, I learned something new tonight. Like every night.
You—
( Another kiss, another mouthful of vodka swapped. )
—like—
( Over Cain now, straddling his hips where a hard cock waits for its turn to play, Jonas doesn't waste time. Smearing his lips down the path the liquid takes down the side of Cain's neck, he rolls his hips down with a low, oversensitive gasp, leaving the bottle to the man whose pants he's now prying open. )
—being ordered around. You want me to blow you? Ask me nicely...
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no subject
Of course it works. At least for now, he doesn't have to think about how he's going to feel spending the night with another man. Someone who isn't Abel, in his arms.]
Okay, okay. [A snicker.] You don't gotta ask... but I like hearing 'please'.
[Cain closes strong hands over wriggling hips, callused fingers denting the skin just above the waistband of jeans. Then he hooks in his thumbs and pulls — the pants aren't too tight that he has to go for zipper or button to release, but they aren't loose either, so Jonas may feel the drag of denim right over his cock. The motion leaves him in just his underwear. There's little hesitation, just an appreciative look pointed down before Cain slopes forward, dragging his mouth across the flat plane of Jonas's abdomen and then right to his crotch, lips forming over the shape of a dick underneath.]
Heh, you're already so hard... [He's noticed Jonas likes to talk, so maybe he's trying a little just for him.] Good boy.
[He molds his mouth over Jonas's covered cock again in something like a kiss if it wasn't so obscene, lips and tongue wetting the fabric in broad strokes.]
no subject
He thought being released from his pants was good enough, spreading his legs wider to enjoy the extra room—he's smothering his moan against the back of his hand when trailing lips target him through boxer briefs instead. Fabric clings to tensing thighs as his teeth distractedly dent a knuckle. )
"Good boy"?
( Jesus fucking Christ. That alone would've been enough to dampen the front of his underwear if Cain's tongue hadn't gotten there first.
Grasping forward at Cain's muscular shoulder, his touch strokes up his neck and ear before sinking into soft, dyed hair. The blue streaks are cute, adding personality to a man already so full of it; they can't distract him from pinpointed pleasure, though, and he needs something to hang onto. )
You're killing me, man. If you spring a "daddy" thing on me... Haha, I swear...
no subject
Nah, that's not really my kink. Unless you want it — I'd do it for you, sweetheart.
[It's fun. It feels playful, humming as he hooks fingertips into the edge of boxer-briefs and hikes them down, rolling the band over Jonas's thighs until he's forced to lean back to get them the rest of the way off. So Jonas is completely naked except for shoes and socks — which Cain thinks is a hot look on him, if the dark gaze he levels is any indication, smirk broad across his mouth.]
You look so fucking good like this. [Instead of immediately returning to his task, he takes a moment to appreciate Jonas underneath him with legs spread, cock visibly jutting up against his belly. Cain drags his hands over bare skin everywhere he can reach, then folds forward and nips gently at a nipple.] Mm... you're so soft. I wanna leave marks all over you.
no subject
Jonas exhales in wavering increments, trying to keep still under Cain's hot touch—with some degree of success. )
Uh, thanks... You—Ah— ( The shock of having his nipple focused on introduces a bend in his spine, elbows sliding back on the cot to push his chest forward. Why does that feel so good? ) Fuck, do whatever. Oh, my God...
( Being riddled with hickeys sounds sexy, and having Cain's mouth all over him... licking? Sucking? His next exhale lilts into a higher moan, thighs coming together on either side of his partner's hips to squeeze him there, muscle flexing under every finger stroke.
He has to reach down between his legs to sweep his cock up from its place in a dark thatch of pubic hair, giving it a one-two pump to alleviate some of the pressure building. Doesn't help, of course, only makes his needs more acute, and he leaves it to instead grasp lower at his sack then run his palm up his groin. )
no subject
There's a harmless scrape of teeth at Jonas's jawline before he retreats south. Hands, meanwhile, drag themselves over every inch he can reach in broad strokes, sweeping briefly under Jonas's hips to deliver a possessive squeeze over the curve of his ass.]
'Do whatever'? Dunno if you should give me that much freedom, [words exhaled as his nose buries into those curls low on Jonas's belly, nuzzling the more delicate skin of a pelvis.] I've got a big imagination.
[But he won't neglect Jonas for too long. He can see the needy jut of his cock, flushed full with arousal — bringing his own hand over to form a loose fist at the root of it. He doesn't introduce his mouth yet, kissing around instead, sucking at the tight skin of balls when he gets low enough to reach them. Jonas will feel his dick rub up against Cain's cheek, but it's almost like an unintentional consequence of where he's positioned himself between the man's legs.]
no subject
Fuck— ( Shit, damn, cocksucker, mother of—Turning to press his mouth shyly against a hitched shoulder, Cain's lips on his sack pull a sound from his throat he's never heard himself make.
It's not a whine, but it's not a groan. It's pitchy, breathless, almost pained. Sensitivity makes his thighs want to clamp together to both get Cain away and anchor his head so he can't go anywhere. He only just manages to resist, experiencing a soft quake in his adductors as his legs are instead forced to open wider. )
I'm gonna come. I'm... I'm serious, I'm close. I'm close, what the fuck...
( There's no grieving this fact, not when they have all night. Instead, Jonas laughs breathlessly, grips low and tightly around the base of his cock, removing a percent chance of orgasm. He can't blow a load anywhere but on Cain's lips, and Goddamn, he'll take the deep ache to do that.
He doesn't wait for a roaming mouth to get around to opening around him, though. With a playful slap of a precome-dampened cock against his partner's cheek, they're reintroduced, and with his other hand, hair is again grabbed—more forcefully this time—to reorient Cain's face. )
So, you want to be, like... told what to do instead, then? Open, ( Jonas commands Cain like a dog who has something he shouldn't in his mouth. ) Please... I want your mouth so bad.
no subject
What he isn't expecting is that next command. He wouldn't mind if Jonas came early — there's no failure in the rhythm of sex like this, in his opinion, and it'd be fucking hot to see him lose control. Maybe it'd get on his face; maybe it'd just coat Jonas's belly and chest and give Cain the opportunity to lick it all up. But then there's a hand in his hair pulling at the scalp, jarring a gasp out of him as he's redirected. The slap of a hard cock against his cheek is surprisingly vulgar, though it only serves to twist lust deep into the pit of his stomach as a response.
He doesn't hesitate to deliver his mouth, then, on that word. Open. The seal of red lips part as he sinks down over the head of Jonas's dick, mouth soft and yielding, aware there won't be much time to tease so he just goes all the way — swallowing the length down to the very root where his nose tickles into dark curls, no gag reflex to limit how deep he takes it in. The muffled vibration of a moan will be felt, less for Jonas's intentional benefit than just a way to express how good it is to have his throat filled like this. Hands seize Jonas's waist in expectation of a swift orgasm, thumbs digging into the curve of hips to hold. Cain's knees are braced on the bed for balance and leverage; even if Jonas thrashes, he should have the strength to keep lips wrapped around his cock.]
no subject
Cain obeys him, which almost does it for him. Jonas feels the hot wave of pre-orgasm with a tense in his thighs as he's deepthroated. Experiences such complete pleasure that his fingers tighten painfully in Cain's hair, hips tilting up to bury himself further into a tight throat. )
That's, ah--Shit, Cain, I...
( Sucking a breath through his teeth in a wince as he comes, his thighs close on either side of Cain's head, leg shoving at the edge of the mattress of the cot. )
Fuck, I'm--
( Whether his friend wanted his come in his mouth or not, Jonas loses sense of how firmly he's holding Cain's head down. He bucks, twists, and shouts his bliss at the tent ceiling, uncaring about being heard by those outside. It doesn't fucking matter to him; they're extras right now, forgettable as he thrusts shallowly against Cain's face.
Only when the pulsing of his cock stops and he's collapsing back onto the cot does he release Cain. Not without stroking a hand back through his hair and down the length of his neck. He has to open his eyes at him through the haze, joyful tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Then he blinks, waking, and feels a jolt of worry.
Holy shit. Did he just do that? Sweating, pushing hair away from his flushed forehead, he reaches forward to touch his partner. )
Jesus, Cain, sorry, I--Are you okay?
no subject
Jonas is loud, but similarly there's no care for those who could overhear them. He's more intoxicated by how effortless it is to drive him to such a powerful orgasm so quickly, obsessed with that sensitivity, how reactive Jonas is underneath him — it's no task at all to tighten lips in a wet seal and clench his throat, narrowing the hot channel over Jonas's cock so it's all he can possibly feel in those last tense, shivering seconds.
He doesn't choke when the flood of come hits the back of his mouth, only swallows deeply, humming around the burden of a cock and squirming in closer where he's captured by legs. It's not like he's trying to show off, but he does know that he's good at this; he's had a lot of practice. And he loves it every time — even better for black eyes to flicker up to a flushed face, admiring Jonas in the deep throes of that pleasure, clearly affected.
When Jonas begins to soften on his tongue, he pulls off with a slick sound, wiping his mouth on the back of a wrist. His expression is dark and low-lidded, a very private look as he crawls back up Jonas's body on hands and knees.]
Ahh... that was so fucking hot. [Cain's voice is a little hoarse when he speaks. Hands are wandering again, touching freely. He squeezes Jonas's pecs, then down to hips and thighs.] Why wouldn't I be okay? I just made you come so hard you screamed.
You think someone heard?
no subject
Mmm... ( Hummed at Cain with his neck craned. His body throbs with good feeling, reacts still to wandering touches and squeezes. ) Hope so. Give 'em something to jack off to...
( His heart rate doesn't slow, but when he feels a tickle of cold air against his leg, it does leap in his chest. Jonas props himself up quickly enough that their faces are inches apart, speaking wide-eyed and confused at Cain. )
Oh, my God, dude, I forgot to zip the tent flap when I came in.
( Trying to see past his partner's arm, grasping upward to mess with black hair—just for the hell of it—a smile appears before being quickly hidden by the curve of a deeply tanned shoulder. Light as a feather right now and tickled pink, he begins to laugh as he kisses and licks up the side of Cain's neck.
Finally finding the bottle of liquor that keeps rolling around on the cot against them, it's given a swish upward. The party's begun, but only just. )
Don't mind us, just a couple of fucking idiots in here—literally. My whole ass is out, hahaha... Hey, hey... kiss me with a mouthful of this.
( this is what happens when dudebros get together..... )
no subject
Well, that's just the possessive part of his brain he can't just shut off. The marks he's already taken to leaving all over Jonas's neck and shoulders when they're together are proof enough.]
Haha... Don't worry, I'll make sure nobody sees your ass but me. [As if to make the point, he reaches down to squeeze it.] Okay, c'mere, just don't spill it everywhere.
[Dudebros sharing hard liquor in hot and heavy makeouts... yes, he's having a great time with that, leaning obediently to seal his mouth over Jonas's wet lips and licking inside, tasting that burn of vodka. They roll a little on the cot; there's not enough room for real roughhousing, but he has fun with it anyway, snatching the bottle to return the favor where Jonas half-sprawls on top of him now. Cain swallows a mouthful only to share it in another messy kiss, trickles escaping at the tight corners of lips.]
no subject
Groaning for Cain authentically, just a bit louder than is strictly necessary, Jonas spreads his hands over a broad, heaving chest. )
Wow, I learned something new tonight. Like every night.
You—
( Another kiss, another mouthful of vodka swapped. )
—like—
( Over Cain now, straddling his hips where a hard cock waits for its turn to play, Jonas doesn't waste time. Smearing his lips down the path the liquid takes down the side of Cain's neck, he rolls his hips down with a low, oversensitive gasp, leaving the bottle to the man whose pants he's now prying open. )
—being ordered around. You want me to blow you? Ask me nicely...