Well, technically they were right. That's the fault of biology, though, not your tolerance.
[He loves Tucker like this, all gooey and happy. It's definitely incentive to keep scratching, getting right where the soft-leather wings meet Tucker's skin.]
You're not missing much. All of it tastes like being punched in the face.
Mmm. [Tucker arches his back into the touch before slowly moving to lay across Wash's lap. Anything to stay comfortable like this; he's still exhausted.]
Maybe, but they don't know that.
[Oh no. Tucker had waited until he was away from them to puke it back up.]
[Wash moves his legs for Tucker to splay himself across his thighs. He's been so damn bone-tired lately, Tucker sleeping at all hours instead of during day.
It occurs to him, then, that maybe he won't have the energy for sex at all -- which might, metaphorically, fuck them.
So it's down to him to make it happen. Wash takes his hands back, runs them deliberately forward and along Tucker's hips, thumbs tracing their outline.]
Yep. Can't let them know it, they'd take advantage.
[Like Wash is now. Not that Tucker's minding it right now. It's been a while since he's been touched like this, let anyone touch him like this, it's nice. He definitely doesn't have the energy to initiate anything himself, but Wash is doing fine starting on his own.]
[He wants Tucker vibrant again. He's always been lazy, obviously, but he's never gotten used to him this faint. Feels wrong.
... well, okay, and Wash has missed sex. He'd gotten used to it. Leaning over Tucker in his lap, he's in the perfect spot to reacquaint himself with Tucker's body, to skate his hands along the outside of his thighs. Just the outside, for now. Doesn't want things too abrupt.]
[He hums easily, feels that rolling want off Wash and shifts to be more comfortable. Lets Wash get to him more easily. Has to work to keep his wings out of the way though.
He almost sounds breathless when he talks, like Wash's touches are the first fresh drink of water in the desert.]
[Fuck. Wash still isn't good at voicing his desires, not until the hormones knock him TOTALLY stupid, anyway, and unable to remember shame.
Their options are limited only by the fact Tucker's tired. Honestly, Wash doesn't mind the excuse. He's missed touching Tucker direly, missed knowing what it felt like to be this close to him.]
Let me think about that. Right now I just want this.
[Just the closeness. If Wash wants to revive Tucker, you bet he'll take the lead. He busies himself running his palms across Tucker's hips, up his sides, across his chest, collarbone. Reminding himself about how damn good skin contact is.]
[Tucker practically purrs at the attention, leans into it where he can. It's been too long since he let Wash just touch him. God he wishes he wasn't so exhausted, he'd do a lot more than just lay back and let him have this.]
Just this, huh? You sure?
[He can at least work with his tail. That takes almost no effort, wrapping it around Wash's waist and playing with the waistband of his pants. Not even going further, just teasing, as much as he has the energy to.]
Oh, shit. [Fucking Tucker. He knows how weak Wash is to his tail. Just something about it coming out of nowhere like that.]
I -- might want those gone. [Wash squirms a little as the point of Tucker's tail slips just barely into his pants. At least Tucker barely wears clothes. Embarrassing? Yes, extremely. But it makes it very easy to get down to business. Which is, of course, why he does it.]
You're going to have to get off of me if I'm going to take off my pants.
Ughhh. [He groans, pulling at his shirt.] Help me up.
[Christ, the things he does for sex.
Sex with someone he really, genuinely cares about. It's been a long time since he's thought like that. He pulls himself up, noses against Wash's cheek before carefully shifting off his lap and leaning back against the headboard.]
Come on. It's a small price to pay to get me naked. Right?
[Two can play Tucker's game. Wash has learned how by now.
Wash, carefully, gets his arms around Tucker and helps hoist him to a sit, grabbing a quick kiss when Tucker bunts against his cheek. He wrestles off his pants, takes the time to fold them and set them aside. Getting to the sex is urgent, but not that urgent, okay?
[Heat blossoms and flows through him fast at the kiss and he barely wants to break away from it, wants to sink into that warmth and drown in it. He's almost breathless when Wash asks. He looks him over, eyes already dark and wanting.]
Probably better to now before we get too busy later.
[Because there is definitely going to be a 'later' in so many ways.]
[Oh, their entire night is going to be that promising later. Tucker's starving, and if he's honest, Wash is too.
Wash peels away his underwear, trying, at least, to look sexy while he does it instead of just desperate to get to the good parts. He's already embarrassingly hard as he leans back to Tucker, pulling him back in against him and pressing their lips together. He missed this.]
[God, he's almost done in just watching him strip down, a gooey handful of clay leaning into the kiss. He missed this so much. God the things he would do to keep Wash alone to himself like this. Just to keep him close and warm and all skin like this.
Christ, he doesn't even have his shirt off yet.
It's a flip that's switched - a month of holding back and now he can't break away.] 's great. Perfect. [He can't bring himself to pull away, kissing at Wash's jaw, neck. Pressing hands to his waist trying to get closer even as tired as he is.]
[Wash has forgotten about his shirt entirely. What's more important is the skin contact he IS getting with Tucker: the way he's mouthing at his throat, his palms just above Wash's hips tugging them together.
But every move Tucker makes is sluggish with exhaustion. He must be goddamn ravenous. So Wash better do something about that.
What he does is skim a hand down Tucker's side, along his hip, the outside of his thigh. Just barely between his legs. He's not trying to tease too badly... just give them some leadup.]
[The groan that comes out of him he'll deny was ever as hungry sounding as it really is. While he's moving instinctively on muscle memory, his muscles ache with exhaustion. He wraps his tail back around Wash's waist for stability, sits up a bit more on his knees when Wash's hands find their way between his legs.]
[He's still having trouble believing that this entire time Tucker's been holding himself back because of Wash. But it's hard to agonize about that when they're so, so goddamn close to making it better.
Wash gets a little shiver up his spine when Tucker moans all low and wanting. He gets the message. He runs his fingers downward, just reacquainting himself with Tucker's body, circling gently around his clit.]
Yeah? [He can't help the way his voice pitches halfway through the word when Wash touches at him.] Holy fuck.
[Tucker takes a breath and holds it, presses his forehead against Wash's shoulder and clutches at his shirt. Even just the way the base of his horns press against the muscle gets to him, it's really been too long.] Ffffffuck, dude.
[Wash cranes his neck downward, pecking the base of Tucker's horns, the little semicircles where the hard keratin meets his skin. Finding out just how much Tucker likes his horns and wings played with had been a good night. Wash could probably stand to tease him a little less, but... it's hard when his horns are right there.
His hand means business, at least. He runs the pads of his fingers through Tucker's slit, slow, with intent.]
[The sound he makes is almost a whimper into his shoulder. Tucker rolls his hips down onto Wash's hand, shuddering at the attention and feeling Wash's dick against his skin. It's hot, and the skin to skin is great, and he's glad Wash still has his shirt on so he can have something to grip on to besides his tail.
Tucker's voice comes out quiet against him:] Still haven't said what you wanna do.
I want to be inside you. Just -- as long as we can. [His breath hitches.] Like feeling you. [And Tucker rocking gentle on his dick is like a strong hit of that, that intimacy while Wash twines his arms around him and they move together in tandem. He can't think of a better way to end Tucker's month-long drought than that.
Wash's hips jump upward with the friction, grinding up against Tucker a few times. He holds steady when Tucker returns the favor, rutting into Wash's palm.]
God. [It's almost breathless, but Tucker nuzzles into his cheek, a bit of color in his eyes. Something there clicking back into place as they move together. It isn't much, but there's a bit of life back in the shadows of his eyes.] God, fuck yeah it does.
You've got way more stamina than me anyway. It'll work out.
Good. Perfect. [Wash is aware he sounds goofy, but he's riding that high, the knife-edge I'm about to get laid excitement. He feels like... a held breath. Waiting for it.]
Better get you ready, [Wash mumbles. Tucker's been too long without sex, but they still have to wait this little bit together, drag it out until the moment is just right. He kisses up his horn again, angling his hand to skate his thumb over Tucker's clit.]
You're killing me here. [If Wash is going to take his time while Tucker's this tired waiting, then he will too. He loosens his tail, just to get some slack, and rub against the shaft of Wash's cock between them.]
Did you really not know that's why I was holding out?
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bestsword) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
shorterpass2016-03-18 02:24 pm
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No, it was when we met Grif and Simmons. Didn't think I could handle it, keep it down.
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[He loves Tucker like this, all gooey and happy. It's definitely incentive to keep scratching, getting right where the soft-leather wings meet Tucker's skin.]
You're not missing much. All of it tastes like being punched in the face.
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Maybe, but they don't know that.
[Oh no. Tucker had waited until he was away from them to puke it back up.]
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[Wash moves his legs for Tucker to splay himself across his thighs. He's been so damn bone-tired lately, Tucker sleeping at all hours instead of during day.
It occurs to him, then, that maybe he won't have the energy for sex at all -- which might, metaphorically, fuck them.
So it's down to him to make it happen. Wash takes his hands back, runs them deliberately forward and along Tucker's hips, thumbs tracing their outline.]
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[Like Wash is now. Not that Tucker's minding it right now. It's been a while since he's been touched like this, let anyone touch him like this, it's nice. He definitely doesn't have the energy to initiate anything himself, but Wash is doing fine starting on his own.]
Feeling like you need something, huh?
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[He wants Tucker vibrant again. He's always been lazy, obviously, but he's never gotten used to him this faint. Feels wrong.
... well, okay, and Wash has missed sex. He'd gotten used to it. Leaning over Tucker in his lap, he's in the perfect spot to reacquaint himself with Tucker's body, to skate his hands along the outside of his thighs. Just the outside, for now. Doesn't want things too abrupt.]
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He almost sounds breathless when he talks, like Wash's touches are the first fresh drink of water in the desert.]
What do you wanna do?
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[Fuck. Wash still isn't good at voicing his desires, not until the hormones knock him TOTALLY stupid, anyway, and unable to remember shame.
Their options are limited only by the fact Tucker's tired. Honestly, Wash doesn't mind the excuse. He's missed touching Tucker direly, missed knowing what it felt like to be this close to him.]
Let me think about that. Right now I just want this.
[Just the closeness. If Wash wants to revive Tucker, you bet he'll take the lead. He busies himself running his palms across Tucker's hips, up his sides, across his chest, collarbone. Reminding himself about how damn good skin contact is.]
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Just this, huh? You sure?
[He can at least work with his tail. That takes almost no effort, wrapping it around Wash's waist and playing with the waistband of his pants. Not even going further, just teasing, as much as he has the energy to.]
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I -- might want those gone. [Wash squirms a little as the point of Tucker's tail slips just barely into his pants. At least Tucker barely wears clothes. Embarrassing? Yes, extremely. But it makes it very easy to get down to business. Which is, of course, why he does it.]
You're going to have to get off of me if I'm going to take off my pants.
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[Christ, the things he does for sex.
Sex with someone he really, genuinely cares about. It's been a long time since he's thought like that. He pulls himself up, noses against Wash's cheek before carefully shifting off his lap and leaning back against the headboard.]
Still debating the shirt.
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[Two can play Tucker's game. Wash has learned how by now.
Wash, carefully, gets his arms around Tucker and helps hoist him to a sit, grabbing a quick kiss when Tucker bunts against his cheek. He wrestles off his pants, takes the time to fold them and set them aside. Getting to the sex is urgent, but not that urgent, okay?
Speaking of urgency...]
You, uh... want my briefs off now, or later?
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Probably better to now before we get too busy later.
[Because there is definitely going to be a 'later' in so many ways.]
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Wash peels away his underwear, trying, at least, to look sexy while he does it instead of just desperate to get to the good parts. He's already embarrassingly hard as he leans back to Tucker, pulling him back in against him and pressing their lips together. He missed this.]
That good? [he asks, voice low.]
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Christ, he doesn't even have his shirt off yet.
It's a flip that's switched - a month of holding back and now he can't break away.] 's great. Perfect. [He can't bring himself to pull away, kissing at Wash's jaw, neck. Pressing hands to his waist trying to get closer even as tired as he is.]
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But every move Tucker makes is sluggish with exhaustion. He must be goddamn ravenous. So Wash better do something about that.
What he does is skim a hand down Tucker's side, along his hip, the outside of his thigh. Just barely between his legs. He's not trying to tease too badly... just give them some leadup.]
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God, I missed you.
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[He's still having trouble believing that this entire time Tucker's been holding himself back because of Wash. But it's hard to agonize about that when they're so, so goddamn close to making it better.
Wash gets a little shiver up his spine when Tucker moans all low and wanting. He gets the message. He runs his fingers downward, just reacquainting himself with Tucker's body, circling gently around his clit.]
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[Tucker takes a breath and holds it, presses his forehead against Wash's shoulder and clutches at his shirt. Even just the way the base of his horns press against the muscle gets to him, it's really been too long.] Ffffffuck, dude.
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His hand means business, at least. He runs the pads of his fingers through Tucker's slit, slow, with intent.]
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Tucker's voice comes out quiet against him:] Still haven't said what you wanna do.
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Wash's hips jump upward with the friction, grinding up against Tucker a few times. He holds steady when Tucker returns the favor, rutting into Wash's palm.]
That sound good to you?
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You've got way more stamina than me anyway. It'll work out.
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Better get you ready, [Wash mumbles. Tucker's been too long without sex, but they still have to wait this little bit together, drag it out until the moment is just right. He kisses up his horn again, angling his hand to skate his thumb over Tucker's clit.]
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Did you really not know that's why I was holding out?
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