amicably_absent | (no subject)

(no subject)

Glitch is sitting in his office, surrounded by books and diaries, legs over the arm of the chair and head tilted in against the back. He looks asleep, but he isn't, eyes closed and enjoying the fire roaring in front of him.

He left a note for Wyatt in his room, telling him where he was. There's a letter addressed to both of them on the side table, Ambrose's neat script on the front. But he isn't going to open it until Wyatt gets here.

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"I'm not teasing," he breathes, not even sure if he can get anything louder out, he's so hoarse with want and desire. "I'm being perfectly serious, Glitch.

"Do you want me? Don't beg, just tell me."

"I want you!" One hand grabs Wyatt's head, curling his whole body up and into Wyatt's. "I want you. Now. Please."

And it's returned with a kiss, and Wyatt pulls himself out of the v of his pants and slicks himself up; another kiss as he encourages Glitch with nothing but touch to unwind and scoot down and lay back; another kiss as he lines himself up and presses the tip of his cock to Glitch's entrance.

"I love it when you're pushy."

He nudges inside, then pushes. Inch by inch. Slowly.

It's a good thing he's often pushy then.

Glitch lays back, barely breathing and sucking air at the same time, and he's making himself relax but he barely wants to, he's keyed up and excited and wanting.

And he gets. He wails again, falling back panting and moaning as Wyatt keeps moving in him, going deeper, slowly and firmly.

"Yes," he moans, reaching belatedly to set the bottle down on the floor because he couldn't care less about where the stopper went, and then there's nothing else, nothing other than Glitch taking up his focus, all his senses.

Every scant inch of movement is perfection incarnate. It couldn't get any better than this, it couldn't, there's no way. "Glitch."

And then he's moving, and holding on to Glitch's hips for dear life, and he was so wrong. It's better, and getting better every last brush of skin, every slide in and out, and he's moaning out loud.

He tangles his ankles around Wyatt's neck, hands grabbing hold of his biceps and clinging with bruising force, staring up at his lover, holding his gaze with his own.

He can't look away. He won't look away. Even when Wyatt moves and he knows he's making noise, gasps and moans that carry hints of Wyatt's name under the raw exhalation of sound.

"Love you," he pants, falling into a slow, rolling rhythm that doesn't involve as much movement, but should be just enough to completely drive Glitch out of his mind with pleasure. That's his main goal, and he'll do his damned best to reach it.

"Love you," he gasps. "Love you. Love you. Love you."

Glitch's eyes go wide; his fingers scrabble at Wyatt's arms, scratching before finally sinking and grabbing again, panting breathlessly with sharp, loud, short sounds.

He's moaning still, hushed little words under his breath, silly little things about how good it feels, or how gorgeous his lover is like this, all caught up and swimming in pleasure, how beautiful he is, how hot and how tight and how incredible.

His hips keep up the pace. He's determined to bring Glitch over the edge well before he takes the tumble himself.

Glitch's hips and snapping to meet every thrust, as best he can move like this. He finally starts whimpering Wyatt's name softly, want and movement and restless lust that's heating through him like a painful, beautiful wave of pleasure.

He isn't prepared for it when it happens. He's so busy breathing and watching Wyatt's eyes with his own wide eyed gaze that the crest smacks him like a shock. He screams Wyatt's name, his entire body tensing and contorting with the pleasure.

It's the sexiest, most breathtaking thing in the world. He keeps moving, moaning from the way Glitch tightens almost painfully around him, and gently moves his legs down to around his waist instead. Then he wraps his arms under his shoulders, hands gripping them.

Kissing his neck and his chest and his face, and rolling his hips in wider circles. In and out and rocking in Glitch's arms.

"Sweetheart." He's going to explode. He can feel it.

For a moment, Glitch actually fights being moved, but as the pleasure surges back into relaxation, he lets himself be moved, wrapping his legs around Wyatt's waist and meeting his movements with small rolls of his hips. His arms twist around Wyatt's neck, holding him close, still looking him in the eye.

"Wyatt," he whispers back. "Yes, love you, Wyatt."

It doesn't take long, not long at all for the heat to get to him. Red in the face and down his neck and further, feeling like he's blushing all over, he loses himself in the pleasure of making love with a garbled string of noises.

He doesn't want to stop moving even after he's spent and heaving for air from it. Doesn't want it to end yet, not yet, when he was ahead of his game. Not yet.

"Ohhhhh...fuuuck..."

The rush of slick heat is still some kind of wonderful that makes Glitch shudder and moan and tremble tight.

He pulls Wyatt down on top of him, hugging him tight with arms and legs, not letting him move away. "Wyatt, oh merciful light. Don't move."

"I can't. I think I'm missing that part of my brain." He sighs, hugging Glitch close. "You're amazing."

Glitch chuckles weakly and keeps clinging to Wyatt. "That... more practice to get better? Might kill me. Better will kill me."

He drags Wyatt around to kiss him, deep and slow.

"Then--" As things go, being cut off by kisses is a very pleasant way to be cut off, and Wyatt sinks into the embrace and returns the kiss with no lack of heart, if a tad lacking in energy. It's just right. It's just perfect.

"Then we shouldn't practice any more, is that what you're saying?" He grins.

Glitch flops back after a long moment of kissing, eyes closed and slumping to boneless. "Definitely not. What a way to go, hey, Tin man?"

"Yeah, zipper-head. What a way to go..."

He sighs, resting his head on Glitch's chest, half curled up and just enjoying himself. Dinner can wait. And so can cleaning up.

Glitch drapes his arms around Wyatt's shoulders and neck, limp and relaxed.

A few moments later, there's a soft, breathy snore.

Wyatt smiles, melting a touch on the inside, and hugs Glitch even closer, scooting onto his side and gently pulling Glitch along. He presses his lips to the edge of his zipper, then drags the covers over them. He'll worry about the rest later.

For now, he's more than happy to just laze in the arms of his lover, feeling himself slowly growing heavier and ever more relaxed. It's been a good day, and with a bit of luck, every last tomorrow they share will only ever get better.

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