amicably_absent | (no subject)

"Me too," he drains half his glass of wine, placing his hand squarely on Glitch's chest, fingers flexing idly over fabric and the hint of muscle beneath. "But tonight is all about you."

"Why is it all about me," he asks innocently. "It can be about both of us, together." He arches up slightly into the touch.

"I don't know." He smiles, suddenly struck by something a lot like shyness and nerves. "Because it felt like a good idea. Because you make me feel like an adolescent every time we touch, and I never want to forget that feeling.

"Because I want to make you feel so good that by the time I push inside you, we won't need to cut things short because of how good you make me feel."

"Oooh." Glitch sits up enough to down his wine and peel off his shirt - no buttons undone, just off.

"I like that idea. And I bet it'll be a lot of fun if we don't get it right first time."

"I thought you'd like that. Practice makes perfect, like they say." He leans across the bed to set his own glass down. Better there than on the floor.

The bottle of unscented oil is still there, from the night before. It's perfect.

Glitch leans back, undoing his pants and not taking them off, leaving hip bones bared and stomach exposed. "Lots of practice?"

There's something entirely too tempting about the sight of those bones covered by soft skin, and Wyatt isn't about to try resisting. He scoots a tad further away and slides down to press his lips to them one after the other, and starts slowly working his way upwards.

"Lots of it."

With a sighed out moan, Glitch stretches at the kisses, smiling as warm lips work over his skin. "Lots and lots."

He smiles, kissing his way up the center of Glitch's chest, hands following on either side with firm caresses over ribs that - Wyatt would like to think - grow fainter for each passing day. He doesn't much care for order or structure when they're in bed together, but one thing he does care for is attention to detail. Or, simply, paying attention to the small things.

Like dipping his tongue into Glitch's navel. Like pressing his lips to the tip of his sternum. Like using his flat palms to rub over Glitch's nipples, while he moves ever higher with his mouth.

Wyatt's sheer attentiveness is addictive. It almost feels like he's abusing his sensory dependence, to soak in the attention, the touches and the looks and the tasting, oh he loves the tasting so much.

He arches and rolls and stretches under Wyatt, half giggling and half moaning as hands skim his chest.

"Ticklish?" Not that he'll take advantage of it right now if that's the case, but it might be fun to know. Just one of those details that makes up the big picture.

And if he gets sidetracked by the long, long neck on his way up, no one needs to point it out. Even if this is where the teeth come into play. Little nips soothed away by kisses and flicks of his tongue, mapping every last square inch of skin all the way up to his earlobes, one after the other.

The little whine suggests that yes, Glitch is ticklish. But that is really not for now.

He loves every nip and every bite and every kiss that comes after it. It all has him gasping and whimpering slightly and wriggling with want.

It's doing a number on Wyatt as well, just listening to his lover is enough to heat him up good. By the time he reaches Glitch's lips for a kiss or a dozen, he can almost taste those sounds he's making.

But first: "Clothes off?"

Glitch kisses back with want and hunger and a hint of teeth. He tastes his skin on Wyatt's lips and lust on his tongue.

"Mm... mine?" He wriggles and starts pulling his pants down.

More kisses follow, as Wyatt unbuttons his own shirt and pants for later, then obligingly helps Glitch throw his pants off the bed.

Then more kisses, of course, because why should they rush into anything when just being close is enticing enough?

Being close is hypnotic and wonderful and electric and he wraps his legs around Wyatt's waist and steals more kisses and more tongue and teeth and more touches over the broad shoulders, pushing under his shirt and half down to bare skin. "Mm... all mine."

"All yours," he murmurs over hot skin; hands trailing down, over the rise and fall of Glitch's chest and lower, fanning out over hips and thighs and gripping them, keeping them there as he presses into kisses that shouldn't ever have to end. Hot, sweet kisses that taste of love and passion and feeling too much, but he doesn't care. Nothing is too much with Glitch.

"All yours."

Glitch actually groans, head thrown back and arching in unspoken, possibly unthought invitation as Wyatt grasps his thighs, his hips and kisses him, kisses him the way he needs.

"Wyatt. Oh sweet light, Wyatt."

They'll get there before the evening is through, but this preview of sorts is more than welcome, and just happens to be something that Wyatt's had on his mind since the first time they had a tumble together. Just like this, Glitch under him, with his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck.

Or, why not with his knees hooked over Wyatt's arms, or his ankles around his neck... Any of them would be just as much fun to explore.

His smile grows just a touch wicked, as he raises himself up to look at his lover. "You're giving me ideas, Sweetheart. That's almost never a good thing."

"I'm sure I'll like your ideas," Glitch murmurs, smiling and sighing. "I'm sure of it, they'll be wonderful and good and we'll need to explore them a lot."

The movement tips him, drags his legs up a bit more, making him shiver. "Be wicked. Go on."

"We won't know what works best for us until we've tried a great many different things," he agrees, picture perfect poster boy for innocence incarnate, glancing at the bedside table the moment before he reaches for the bottle.

"Like your legs over my shoulders while you lie back and let me do all the work."

A beat, then less with the innocence, more with the intent and focus. "You ready for this bit?"

Glitch's eyes go wide, barely nodding. He scrambled, walking his feet up Wyatt's chest to slide his ankles around and behind his neck, crossing them over one another. "Something like that," he purrs.

He chuckles at the sheer enthusiasm, and he knows like such a lovestruck fool, but that's fine. "Spread your legs a bit for me, I wanna see what I'm doing." He pats Glitch's hip. "We'll get to this in a while."

He plucks the stopper from the bottle and on a whim, drizzles some of the oil all over Glitch's groin. Up the length of his cock, over his balls, and then, a tiny little bit into the palm of Wyatt's hand. Stopper goes back, and he holds the bottle out.

"Hold this? Might need more later." It's time to get to work, but not the way Glitch thinks. It's time to work their way up to it, not dash madly for the finish line.

He shifts again, planting a foot on either shoulder, further apart for how broad Wyatt's shoulders are.

He whimpers and gasps at the feel of the oil, cool, but not cold, warming easily and quickly. He grasps for the bottle, catching it with a hand and pushing it into the mattress, fingers tight around it.

"That's better." His left hand starts softly rubbing the oil in, fingers dragging over hot flesh and thick, springy curls. His right hand presses over the skin just below Glitch's sac, and drags downward, until it covers the tiny little muscle. That hand starts rubbing slow circles, just moving the skin and muscles, not actually moving out of place; the other is rather more straightforward, in that it takes hold of both cock and balls, for a more traditional, but just as gentle massage.

"You're perfect like this."