[ it doesn't always take words to communicate something. the hum around his cock, the way eggsy's hand smooths over his hip, firm, the squeeze to his own hand -- all of it communicates what thomas imagines to be it's okay, you can come, i want you to.
he can't be sure, of course, but in the end, it doesn't matter at all whether he is sure of eggsy's permission and encouragement or not: his body has its own ideas and there is only so long that thomas can hold on. eggsy hums and the vibration pushes him closer, and then he sucks and that decides it.
thomas' breath catches. for a moment, he doesn't breathe at all, every muscle tensed, and then he comes hot down eggsy's throat, cock twitching with each spurt, the tension leaving him in increments as he moans, sinking lower in the chair, his fingers tight against eggsy's. ]
[ eggsy lets out a little moan, anticipating what's to come when thomas quiets. his lips tighten around thomas' cock as he swallows. once. twice. working thomas through it, lingering to ensure he gets every last drop, dragging along thomas' oversensitive cock for a final tease and pulling off with a wet pop. he opens his eyes then, heavy-lidded yet sharp on thomas (the part of his lips, the rise and fall of his shoulders as he comes down from orgasm). no one can blame him for his breath hitching now, can they? definitely what he wanted, caught between smugly pleased with himself and stupidly turned on, with the crotch of his trousers wet and his jumper too hot on his skin. his breathing stays uneven.
he doesn't let go of thomas' hand, even when he sits back on his heels and brings his free arm to wipe at his mouth. part him wants to quip something light — about how gentlemen never make a mess — but he's not suave enough to pull it off presently, opting instead to idly rub at his jaw. it's a come down for both of them, in a way. ]
[ thomas' eyes open slowly, breath coming hard and fast for long moments even after the aftershocks have stopped making his stomach clench. he squeezes eggsy's hand again, this time more gently, searching eggsy's gaze.
no one has a right to look as good as eggsy does like that, he thinks. ]
[ it's a good thing their hands stay linked (that thomas brings him into focus with a soft touch) because eggsy thinks he could utterly space out like this, watching thomas despite the dull ache in his throat and his knees or the throb of his cock.
oh, but thomas' idea is better. ]
Bossy. [ a bit hoarse, although it's said without any irritation, particularly given how quickly he stands to comply: a fluid lift and sink back to his prior position, uncaring of thomas' trousers pooled around his ankles or their varying degrees of undress and stickiness. as soon as his weight settles on thomas, frisson zips down his spine and his breath comes harsher. god, he must look a touch desperate by now, so of course he inclines his head for a kiss. no point in pretending he isn't greedy for attention. ]
[ eggsy's voice is hoarse and his breathing picks up and oh. if thomas were a younger man, if he hadn't just come, he thinks that would do more for him than send fondness and warmth curling in his stomach -- it does more now, too, but not much, a thrill of desire that has no physical consequences but how deep the kiss is, how thorough. thomas likes chasing the taste of himself on eggsy's lips. his free hand settles back on eggsy's arse, now that they're in their earlier position again, pulling eggsy closer. ]
What do you want? [ he asks against eggsy's lips when the kiss breaks. ]
[ he opens his mouth to say you don't have to, but he wouldn't mean it, and he soon realises it's a stupid thought, anyway, when he and thomas have an understanding of some sort — one that's led him here, to his hips twitching in needy reflex as he sighs into a proper snog.
still, it takes him a long moment to respond. ideally, he'd like to fuck thomas again, but — not tonight. god, in lieu of it, too many ideas come to his overactive imagination but, honestly, he doesn't want to move, not when they fit so nicely like this, with his forehead warm against thomas' own and a firm hand on his arse. ]
Your hand would do me. [ maybe he ought to feel sheepish saying it. he doesn't. if anything, he sounds thoughtful, as though he's considering all his options very seriously. ] Like this. [ by way of explanation — ] Close. [ the intimacy (the lingering) does more for him than he would normally admit. he snatches another kiss and lets himself rock down on thomas, making his breath hitch. ] Yeah, your fingers. [ said as if it's decided this time. ] In my mouth. On my cock. [ okaaaay, maybe he's purposefully getting himself keyed up over it. why not? ] In my arse. Don't care.
[ thomas wouldn't mind it. quite the opposite, really: if eggsy wanted to open him up and then fuck him, he'd enjoy that a great deal — but eggsy is too keyed up for that, isn't he? too close already. it doesn't take a professional investigator to tell, what with the roughness to eggsy's voice, the sigh that was almost lost in their kiss. ]
Yeah?
[ nightingale's limbs feel heavy with satisfaction, but his mind's no less engaged than it was before, his chest no less full of emotion and want. coming has taken away none of his intensity.
it's easy, then, to dip the fingers of the hand already on eggsy's arse below the waistband of his trousers, skimming them over one curve and the cleft between eggsy's cheeks before finding the spot he'd been searching for, just behind eggsy's balls. he slides a finger over it, teasing first and then exerting some pressure.
not a spot eggsy had mentioned, but thomas doesn't expect eggsy'll mind. he leans in for another kiss. ]
[ with thomas' hand finally brushing over more of his skin, eggsy drags in a quick, shuddery breath. definitely too keyed up, too close, too easy to tug over the edge. he doesn't anticipate the touch, exactly, still caught up in all his fantasies until thomas begins properly teasing him, but he's obviously appreciative. ]
Yeah, yes, Thomas. [ not begging, but there's something yielding in his encouragement. the taction sets eggsy's nerves alight, the perfect complement to the light friction he gets from straddling thomas.
one hand fists in the rumpled fabric of thomas' shoulder and the other cups his face to allow for a hungrier kiss. ]
[ there's nothing wrong or shameful in being keyed up, in being close or desperate for it. not in thomas' book, at any rate. he likes how much and how obviously eggsy is enjoying the touch, kissing back deeply, nipping at eggsy's lower lip. at the same time, he pulls down the front of eggsy's trousers with his free hand. their position with eggsy straddling him means it can't go very far down — just far enough to free eggsy's cock, for the waistband to settle underneath eggsy's balls, pushing them up, pushing thomas' finger more firmly against the spot he's been caressing.
he doesn't break the kiss to look before wrapping his fingers around eggsy's cock, swiping his thumb over the head to spread precome, though he thinks it must be a picture he'd want to commit to memory. ]
[ so much for being rusty. eggsy believes thomas when he says he doesn't normally do this and hadn't indulged himself recently before the world ended, honest, but jesus fucking christ, it's hard to think that's true when thomas is expertly working him up like this. the pressure of the waistband and thomas' finger has his cock flexing, already leaking and jutting up between them.
by the time thomas has his fingers around eggsy's cock, eggsy can't help but thrust to meet him. with his eyes closed, he doesn't think about what he looks or sounds like with his cock out, all but squirming in thomas' lap, moaning open-mouthed into their kiss. with thomas, he doesn't mind the soft noises the escape his throat (and he is noisy; he knows that) — it's comfortable. ]
[ this is, in some way, rather like riding the metaphorical bike, isn't it? something that one doesn't forget how to do even when one hasn't in a while — though it isn't true anymore that he hasn't. whatever had been in the air in wyver has prompted some rather atypical promiscuity from thomas. he doesn't regret any of it, but he knows himself well enough to know that none of it would have happened without outside prompting.
point is, he hadn't done this in a long, long time before eggsy and wyver, but he remembers how to touch, where to touch. he changes the pressure and pace a little, testing to see what combination will make eggsy moan the loudest, even with thomas' lips against his to swallow the sounds — and then he settles in to keeping touching eggsy the way he seems to like best, to drive him out of his mind. repaying the favour. ]
[ turnabout's fair play, he supposes. and he can't complain when his cock has filled out under thomas' attention. his stomach flutters in expectation and his thighs practically tremble as thomas' pace picks up, pressure building low and insistent. he tilts his head, catching the corner of thomas' mouth when he looses a particularly wanton moan — ]
Thomas. [ even that sounds uneven. he'd meant it to be warning or questioning (asking for more? or if it's okay to give in right here, pressed so close?) ]
[ again, they haven't talked about it, but from the mess they've made of their clothes and the way thomas doubles down on anything that has incoherent noises spilling into his mouth, eggsy can only assume he's going to come all over thomas and this bloody armchair in record time. ]
[ they haven't talked about it, but thomas only hums, soft and warm and close against eggsy's lips, and picks up the pace a little more, lips traveling from eggsy's mouth to his jaw, his neck.
he thinks to say i'm here but swallows the words in favour of scraping his teeth against eggsy's jawline. ]
[ thomas communicates enough. and it's not like eggsy's one for holding back, is it? not to mention, the idea of making a mess is abstractly attractive — even if it's not really on his mind, pleasantly distracted by all the attention thomas pays him. his hands find purchase curled on thomas' shoulder and around one bicep. steady now.
it's not long before he tenses all over, arching into everything thomas gives him with a sharp cry. he comes in waves, certain of the splashes on his trousers and god knows where on thomas. he can't be arsed to care when he can tip forward instead, slackening in thomas' lap. ]
[ thomas watches, stroking eggsy through his orgasm and the aftershocks, only slowly softening his hold — and even then, his shirt splattered and eggsy slumped heavily in his lap, he only withdraws his hand from eggsy's backside after a long moment to wrap his arm around eggsy's back, mouth soft against eggsy's jaw.
another moment, and he unwraps his fingers from eggsy's cock and wipes them against his own shirt. it's already ruined, anyway. ]
[ he enjoys the come down, all soft sighs, and the way thomas doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to push him off. he pries his eyes open to spy the mess —and thomas, still mouthing at his jaw. oh, that’s nice. a little thrill runs through him over the sight of someone so put together in a state of disarray with him. ]
Yeah. [ he dips his hand to pull up his trousers, mainly to relieve the slight pressure on his balls, since he wants nothing more than to kick off his dirty clothes. then, he turns his head to catch thomas’ mouth, an unhurried kiss. ] Glad I didn’t wear the nice jumper you gave me.
[ there's no discomfort in even their partial nudity or disarray for thomas. instead, he's enjoying the proximity, the solid weight of eggsy on him. he's especially enjoying the kiss, too, languid and warm.
before, thomas had still been focused on reciprocating, on eggsy - now, the full effect of his orgasm and heavy satisfaction is making itself felt. ]
Mh, yes. I suppose we would have had to strip that off you if you had.
[ eggsy won't have allowed himself to stay very long on the first night, even though he prefers the opposite. this time, however, he lets himself enjoy it. the mess is a perfect excuse to eschew his recent pattern of a quick fuck and quicker exit. he's going to have to wash his clothes and shower before he wanders home anyway. really, he might as well lazily throw an arm around thomas' neck and use his free hand to thread his fingers through thomas' own, just like they'd been when he was on his knees. ]
Woulda been horrible. [ having an attractive helping hand reveal his abs!! terrible!! ] Don't suppose you have magic for that, too, huh?
[ he's learning from james that there's for magic for everything (including hangovers), though he's mainly teasing. ]
[ there's a hint of surprise in thomas' tone. mostly because, well - the truth is, taking clothes off one's bed partner is part of the appeal, is it not? an enjoyable part, for the most part.
still, he gives it a moment's thought, more so than eggsy's teasing tone indicates he needs to. ] It can be done, of course.
I ain't asking for a hands-off policy, for the record.
[ definitely not, given how much he's enjoying their present closeness. he sounds amused, both by thomas' initial reaction and his genuine consideration. a low rumble builds in his chest, not quite a laugh. ]
Well then, [ 'cause now he's thinking about it properly. ] it's nice of you not to show off in the sack, Thomas.
[ eggsy tends toward showy... and chatty... and teasing with all the patience he can muster... he's not surprised he differs from thomas in this respect. ]
[ thomas isn't surprised, either. he's often been drawn to those with different interests to himself, those less inclined to withdraw or remain quiet. it isn't that he's not proactive when he needs to be, but thomas listens more than he speaks, if he has a choice in the matter, while he tends to be attracted to those who - on certain topics - can speak for hours.
for david, it had been science. thomas had always loved listening to him even when he'd been utterly lost as to the subject matter. ]
Good to know.
[ that's regarding the hands-off police. thomas doesn't think he could bring himself to let go right now. though - ] How would you feel about a shower?
[ in some ways, it's the same for eggsy. an instinctive pull toward people unlike him in various ways. maybe the complementarity makes him better. he doesn't think about it, really. all he knows is that he's very lucky to have good people in his life.
he considers probing the magic further — perhaps another time. at thomas' question, he arches his brows. ]
[ drawling — ] In present company? [ a beat. ] Very interested.
[ the thought of a shower together had only been half-formed, but thomas thinks he should have expected eggsy to take it that way instead of any other.
again, he finds himself smiling. ]
You'd have to climb off me first.
[ thomas is fit for his age, both the apparent and the real one, but he's not going to carry eggsy to the bathroom. ]
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he can't be sure, of course, but in the end, it doesn't matter at all whether he is sure of eggsy's permission and encouragement or not: his body has its own ideas and there is only so long that thomas can hold on. eggsy hums and the vibration pushes him closer, and then he sucks and that decides it.
thomas' breath catches. for a moment, he doesn't breathe at all, every muscle tensed, and then he comes hot down eggsy's throat, cock twitching with each spurt, the tension leaving him in increments as he moans, sinking lower in the chair, his fingers tight against eggsy's. ]
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he doesn't let go of thomas' hand, even when he sits back on his heels and brings his free arm to wipe at his mouth. part him wants to quip something light — about how gentlemen never make a mess — but he's not suave enough to pull it off presently, opting instead to idly rub at his jaw. it's a come down for both of them, in a way. ]
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no one has a right to look as good as eggsy does like that, he thinks. ]
Come up here.
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oh, but thomas' idea is better. ]
Bossy. [ a bit hoarse, although it's said without any irritation, particularly given how quickly he stands to comply: a fluid lift and sink back to his prior position, uncaring of thomas' trousers pooled around his ankles or their varying degrees of undress and stickiness. as soon as his weight settles on thomas, frisson zips down his spine and his breath comes harsher. god, he must look a touch desperate by now, so of course he inclines his head for a kiss. no point in pretending he isn't greedy for attention. ]
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What do you want? [ he asks against eggsy's lips when the kiss breaks. ]
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still, it takes him a long moment to respond. ideally, he'd like to fuck thomas again, but — not tonight. god, in lieu of it, too many ideas come to his overactive imagination but, honestly, he doesn't want to move, not when they fit so nicely like this, with his forehead warm against thomas' own and a firm hand on his arse. ]
Your hand would do me. [ maybe he ought to feel sheepish saying it. he doesn't. if anything, he sounds thoughtful, as though he's considering all his options very seriously. ] Like this. [ by way of explanation — ] Close. [ the intimacy (the lingering) does more for him than he would normally admit. he snatches another kiss and lets himself rock down on thomas, making his breath hitch. ] Yeah, your fingers. [ said as if it's decided this time. ] In my mouth. On my cock. [ okaaaay, maybe he's purposefully getting himself keyed up over it. why not? ] In my arse. Don't care.
[ anywhere they can go to get him off. ]
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Yeah?
[ nightingale's limbs feel heavy with satisfaction, but his mind's no less engaged than it was before, his chest no less full of emotion and want. coming has taken away none of his intensity.
it's easy, then, to dip the fingers of the hand already on eggsy's arse below the waistband of his trousers, skimming them over one curve and the cleft between eggsy's cheeks before finding the spot he'd been searching for, just behind eggsy's balls. he slides a finger over it, teasing first and then exerting some pressure.
not a spot eggsy had mentioned, but thomas doesn't expect eggsy'll mind. he leans in for another kiss. ]
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Yeah, yes, Thomas. [ not begging, but there's something yielding in his encouragement. the taction sets eggsy's nerves alight, the perfect complement to the light friction he gets from straddling thomas.
one hand fists in the rumpled fabric of thomas' shoulder and the other cups his face to allow for a hungrier kiss. ]
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he doesn't break the kiss to look before wrapping his fingers around eggsy's cock, swiping his thumb over the head to spread precome, though he thinks it must be a picture he'd want to commit to memory. ]
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by the time thomas has his fingers around eggsy's cock, eggsy can't help but thrust to meet him. with his eyes closed, he doesn't think about what he looks or sounds like with his cock out, all but squirming in thomas' lap, moaning open-mouthed into their kiss. with thomas, he doesn't mind the soft noises the escape his throat (and he is noisy; he knows that) — it's comfortable. ]
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point is, he hadn't done this in a long, long time before eggsy and wyver, but he remembers how to touch, where to touch. he changes the pressure and pace a little, testing to see what combination will make eggsy moan the loudest, even with thomas' lips against his to swallow the sounds — and then he settles in to keeping touching eggsy the way he seems to like best, to drive him out of his mind. repaying the favour. ]
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Thomas. [ even that sounds uneven. he'd meant it to be warning or questioning (asking for more? or if it's okay to give in right here, pressed so close?) ]
[ again, they haven't talked about it, but from the mess they've made of their clothes and the way thomas doubles down on anything that has incoherent noises spilling into his mouth, eggsy can only assume he's going to come all over thomas and this bloody armchair in record time. ]
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he thinks to say i'm here but swallows the words in favour of scraping his teeth against eggsy's jawline. ]
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it's not long before he tenses all over, arching into everything thomas gives him with a sharp cry. he comes in waves, certain of the splashes on his trousers and god knows where on thomas. he can't be arsed to care when he can tip forward instead, slackening in thomas' lap. ]
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another moment, and he unwraps his fingers from eggsy's cock and wipes them against his own shirt. it's already ruined, anyway. ]
Good?
[ not was that -? but are you - ?. ]
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Yeah. [ he dips his hand to pull up his trousers, mainly to relieve the slight pressure on his balls, since he wants nothing more than to kick off his dirty clothes. then, he turns his head to catch thomas’ mouth, an unhurried kiss. ] Glad I didn’t wear the nice jumper you gave me.
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before, thomas had still been focused on reciprocating, on eggsy - now, the full effect of his orgasm and heavy satisfaction is making itself felt. ]
Mh, yes. I suppose we would have had to strip that off you if you had.
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Woulda been horrible. [ having an attractive helping hand reveal his abs!! terrible!! ] Don't suppose you have magic for that, too, huh?
[ he's learning from james that there's for magic for everything (including hangovers), though he's mainly teasing. ]
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[ there's a hint of surprise in thomas' tone. mostly because, well - the truth is, taking clothes off one's bed partner is part of the appeal, is it not? an enjoyable part, for the most part.
still, he gives it a moment's thought, more so than eggsy's teasing tone indicates he needs to. ] It can be done, of course.
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[ definitely not, given how much he's enjoying their present closeness. he sounds amused, both by thomas' initial reaction and his genuine consideration. a low rumble builds in his chest, not quite a laugh. ]
Well then, [ 'cause now he's thinking about it properly. ] it's nice of you not to show off in the sack, Thomas.
[ eggsy tends toward showy... and chatty... and teasing with all the patience he can muster... he's not surprised he differs from thomas in this respect. ]
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for david, it had been science. thomas had always loved listening to him even when he'd been utterly lost as to the subject matter. ]
Good to know.
[ that's regarding the hands-off police. thomas doesn't think he could bring himself to let go right now. though - ] How would you feel about a shower?
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he considers probing the magic further — perhaps another time. at thomas' question, he arches his brows. ]
[ drawling — ] In present company? [ a beat. ] Very interested.
[ zero chill. ]
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again, he finds himself smiling. ]
You'd have to climb off me first.
[ thomas is fit for his age, both the apparent and the real one, but he's not going to carry eggsy to the bathroom. ]