"I'm not holding back tonight," Landen said. His voice was wrecked. "I can't."
Adriel pulled him down. Kissed him again. Let his body say what words couldn't.
∞∞∞
2 years ago
The film had been playing for twenty minutes and neither of them were watching it.
The screen cast shifting light across the room. Some action film Zach had picked, something loud and full of explosions that Adriel couldn't have named the plot of if his life depended on it.
Then Zach's hand was at his jaw. And he was kissing him; fast, immediate, his mouth opening over Adriel's before Adriel had fully registered the movement.
He kissed back. Tried to. His hands came up and found Zach's shoulders and held on. Zach made a low sound of approval against his mouth and pulled him closer, closer than Adriel had expected, hard and demanding and fast.
It had always been like that with Zach. The wanting was Zach's and it swept Adriel up inside it like a current; exhilarating and disorienting all at once. Like being chosen so forcefully there was no room to think about whether you'd chosen back.
They ended up in the bedroom.
Adriel wasn't entirely sure of the mechanics of it, the same way he was never entirely sure with Zach, just that they were moving, and then they were there, and Zach was pulling his shirt off with practiced ease, his mouth already at Adriel's throat.
Adriel's hands hovered for a moment over Zach's back. Not quite landing. He wasn't sure where they were supposed to go, wasn't sure of the rhythm yet, wasn't sure how to slot himself into the momentum Zach had already built without interrupting it. He set them down eventually, found a place, kept them there.
Zach's hands moved over him quickly; impatient, purposeful, the touches of someone who knew what they wanted and wasalready reaching for it. When his fingers dug into the soft of Adriel's hip, gripping hard, Adriel's breath caught.
Slower, the thought said.
He swallowed it.
He pressed closer instead, matched the pace, told himself this was what it felt like. Told himself the breathlessness was arousal and the tightness in his chest was desire and not the particular ache of feeling like he was always half a step behind, always slightly off the beat, always trying to be enough.
He told himself not to ruin it.
Zach pushed his jeans down his hips and Adriel lifted to help. Zach's clothes followed, efficiently, no ceremony. Then his hands were back, moving over Adriel's body with that same purposeful speed, and Adriel lay beneath them and tried to feel chosen rather than used.
He did feel chosen. That was the thing. Zach wanted him, visibly, physically, and Adriel knew, in some clear-eyed part of himself, how much he'd needed that. How hungry he'd been for it. How long he'd gone without anyone reaching for him at all.
So when Zach's mouth moved down his chest and his hands gripped and pulled, Adriel let him, let himself be grateful for it, and if his body was slightly behind his mind or his mind slightly behind his body he told himself that was just nerves.
Zach reached for the nightstand. Condom, lube, quick and practiced. He pressed Adriel's thighs apart with a flat palm and Adriel went. Then Zach's fingers were pushing inside him, two at once, and Adriel's breath hissed out through his teeth.
He gripped the sheets and breathed and waited for his body to catch up to the pace Zach had already set.
He got there. Mostly.
Slower, the thought said again.
He let it go.
When Zach pushed inside him it was in one long, decisive stroke, and the sound that came out of Adriel was genuine; torn from him, unguarded, his back arching off the mattress. The fullness of it was overwhelming, more than he'd had time to fully prepare for, and he lay there for a moment breathing hard, adjusting, waiting.
Zach didn't wait long.
He set the pace immediately; deep, driving, the rhythm of someone chasing his own pleasure with focused single-mindedness. His hands gripped Adriel's hips, holding him in place as he moved, and the friction was good, it was genuinely good, Adriel's body lighting up. He made sounds. Real sounds, helpless and unintentional, pulled from somewhere below thought.
But his hands, when they came up to find Zach's back, pressed there and found nothing back. No response. No shift in attention. Zach's eyes were closed, his face tipped forward, somewhere Adriel wasn't.
He was alone in this in a way that had nothing to do with the body above him.