[ oh, jesus. he feels hyper-aware of the finger tracing his mouth and the weight of thomas’ gaze. he likes it, knowing that someone’s interested, watching him so intently when he hasn’t even stripped down. he likes the insistent pull forward, too, a grip at the nape of his neck.
the push and pull suits him just fine. he blows air where he just kissed thomas — and recalling his reaction to the bite at his neck, eggsy kisses and sucks there again. and he’ll keep at it, with a mild scrape of teeth in the hopes of earning a similar response. ]
[ it's unfathomable to thomas right now that someone could not want eggsy when he looks like this, when he's bright and sweet and quick with his tongue and on his feet -- but he doesn't linger on that thought, can't when eggsy's mouth finds the sensitive skin of an inner thigh, not for a kiss but to suck and bite.
thomas' cock twitches hopefully against his stomach; thomas' breath hitches for a moment before he lets it out slowly on a soft moan. his fingers slide into eggsy's hair, softly, an encouragement. ]
[ for a moment, he savours the sound, leaning into thomas’ touch, into the smell of him. oh, eggsy’s utterly pleased with himself, eyes sparking in delight (and mischief) as he lifts his head to look up at thomas — to appreciate his handiwork and get enough room to bring his fingers to his mouth. maybe that’s obscene, watching his lips close around anything, at this point. slow is harder to maintain than he thought, so he quickly removes them with a wet pop and settles for licking a lazy stripe up his hand. ]
You can pull it, y’know. [ zing. ] My hair. [ as long as it had been at the start of training, certainly enough to tug. ] I like it.
[ in areas like this, at least, eggsy says what he thinks. with that, he leans forward to wrap his slick fingers around the base of thomas’ cock. ]
[ obscene doesn't even begin to cover it and thomas has to close his eyes for a moment. he's far too old to come simply from an obscene sight, even one as erotic as this, but he thinks if he were a younger man, this might do the trick. as it is, it only feels like a punch to the gut in the best possible way.
he swallows. forces his eyes open again and clears his throat. ]
All right.
[ that's -- good to know, actually. and also entirely too attractive. eggsy's fingers, wet and warm around his cock, are a relief, and thomas lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. ]
[ it's an achievement for eggsy, being so lewd that thomas needs to close his eyes, showing in his little smirk and eager shift closer. he pumps thomas' cock once, twice, fingers only brushing over the head before eggsy ultimately tips forward to swallow him down.
his other hand remains braced on thomas' thigh, a reassuring squeeze. ]
[ thomas keeps his hips still, though it takes some effort, but when eggsy leans in, swallowing him down, he curls his free hand over eggsy's on his thigh, needing something to hold on to and wanting it to be eggsy. ]
[ only thomas could make this kind of sweet, by curling his hand over eggsy's own instead of the arm of the chair. it's all the encouragement eggsy needs to keep at it, swallowing down as much of thomas as he can while his hand takes care of the rest. his eyes flutter closed, focused on as he is on bringing thomas off with his mouth.
this isn't new to eggsy, so he sets an even rhythm, taking more and more. in contrast to last time, he feels in control, not desperate or pushy. this is what he wants — not what he came here for exactly, but he can't complain about the results (the weight and tang of salt in his mouth, the way thomas reacts to him). everything about this is good for him, even with his erection twitching in his loose trousers. ]
[ it's not meant to be sweet, not specifically -- it's not meant to be anything, really, the touch mostly instinct and need. thomas is glad to have done it when eggsy really swallows him down, though, fingers interlacing with eggsy's and holding on tightly as his other hand tightens in eggsy's hair, too, his hips trembling with an effort to keep still.
it's good. of course it is, but beyond the wet heat of eggsy's mouth, the rhythm and eggsy's proximity, knowing whose mouth it is on him, that works for thomas. eggsy sets an even rhythm but it builds and so does the pressure up thomas' spine, his thighs and stomach tense with it, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
it isn't quick, not by any stretch of the imagination -- age above a century or at least physically above forty will do that -- but it isn't that long before thomas is moaning, soft iterations of eggsy's name and there, yes, please escaping him. ]
[ when thomas starts moaning his name, eggsy begins to lose himself. hard not to, when all he can smell and feel and hear is thomas. the noises do him in, really, with the little encouragements enough to get him keyed up. he could probably signal to thomas that it’s fine to thrust, but he enjoys setting the pace himself a little too much. instead, he gives thomas a proper suck before pulling enough long enough for his absence to be felt. ‘course he replaces his mouth with his hand, swiping his fingers over the head of thomas’ cock. his other hand remains laced with thomas’ own, eggsy’s thumb rubbing reassuring circles over the back of his hand. see, eggsy wants to get a good look at him, wanton and waiting, before this is over.
then, he takes thomas’ cock in his mouth again. they haven’t talked about it, but he intends to get thomas to come down his throat. it’s safe to say this will go better than his sloppy blowie in a club a year ago, after all. ]
[ thomas makes a noise of protest, eyes opening where they've fallen shut of their own accord somewhere in the last few minutes. for a moment, his gaze meets eggsy and despite the protest, despite being achingly hard and wanting nothing more than for eggsy to continue, thomas finds himself smiling, the expression soft.
it fades quickly when eggsy swallows him down again and really, the break has done nothing to help thomas calm down. if anything, it has only riled him up more, making the renewed sensation of wet heat more intense. ]
Eggsy -
[ a warning. a question, too. they haven't talked about it and thomas is nothing if not unfailingly polite. ]
[ jesus, that smile. eggsy thinks he’s a sucker for it — for anything like it, as good as any positive reinforcement. and every time thomas says eggsy, he sends viciously erotic messages sparking across eggsy’s brain. eggsy does his best to hum in acknowledgment, despite his mouth pleasantly full.
while he’s not exactly getting off, the act sends pleasure zipping through him. he wants this, every part of him taut and waiting. his eyes have fluttered closed again, focused as he hollows his cheeks, sucking long and hard. eggsy squeezes thomas’ hand (hoping to communicate what he doesn’t want to take the time to say) and brings his free hand to smooth over thomas’ hip, firm and steadying. ]
[ 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. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
SCANDALOUS
the push and pull suits him just fine. he blows air where he just kissed thomas — and recalling his reaction to the bite at his neck, eggsy kisses and sucks there again. and he’ll keep at it, with a mild scrape of teeth in the hopes of earning a similar response. ]
i know right
thomas' cock twitches hopefully against his stomach; thomas' breath hitches for a moment before he lets it out slowly on a soft moan. his fingers slide into eggsy's hair, softly, an encouragement. ]
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You can pull it, y’know. [ zing. ] My hair. [ as long as it had been at the start of training, certainly enough to tug. ] I like it.
[ in areas like this, at least, eggsy says what he thinks. with that, he leans forward to wrap his slick fingers around the base of thomas’ cock. ]
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he swallows. forces his eyes open again and clears his throat. ]
All right.
[ that's -- good to know, actually. and also entirely too attractive. eggsy's fingers, wet and warm around his cock, are a relief, and thomas lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. ]
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his other hand remains braced on thomas' thigh, a reassuring squeeze. ]
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this isn't new to eggsy, so he sets an even rhythm, taking more and more. in contrast to last time, he feels in control, not desperate or pushy. this is what he wants — not what he came here for exactly, but he can't complain about the results (the weight and tang of salt in his mouth, the way thomas reacts to him). everything about this is good for him, even with his erection twitching in his loose trousers. ]
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it's good. of course it is, but beyond the wet heat of eggsy's mouth, the rhythm and eggsy's proximity, knowing whose mouth it is on him, that works for thomas. eggsy sets an even rhythm but it builds and so does the pressure up thomas' spine, his thighs and stomach tense with it, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
it isn't quick, not by any stretch of the imagination -- age above a century or at least physically above forty will do that -- but it isn't that long before thomas is moaning, soft iterations of eggsy's name and there, yes, please escaping him. ]
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then, he takes thomas’ cock in his mouth again. they haven’t talked about it, but he intends to get thomas to come down his throat. it’s safe to say this will go better than his sloppy blowie in a club a year ago, after all. ]
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it fades quickly when eggsy swallows him down again and really, the break has done nothing to help thomas calm down. if anything, it has only riled him up more, making the renewed sensation of wet heat more intense. ]
Eggsy -
[ a warning. a question, too. they haven't talked about it and thomas is nothing if not unfailingly polite. ]
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while he’s not exactly getting off, the act sends pleasure zipping through him. he wants this, every part of him taut and waiting. his eyes have fluttered closed again, focused as he hollows his cheeks, sucking long and hard. eggsy squeezes thomas’ hand (hoping to communicate what he doesn’t want to take the time to say) and brings his free hand to smooth over thomas’ hip, firm and steadying. ]
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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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