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[amicably_absent]

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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[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

It wasn't what he expected, but then he didn't know what to expect anyway. He pants softly, slow and heavy breaths and enjoying the touch, the slick movement and intimate touching.

He tries not to move, to let Wyatt decide how far, how fast, control it all.

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Maybe he wasn't too intrigued by everything that book laid out in perfect detail, but he's a fast reader, and he doesn't tend to forget things under normal circumstances. The book said a great many things, but the two things he's making sure to stick to is taking things slow and gentle, and to listen to his partner.

Glitch says stop or go, that's what's gonna happen.

"Hey, Glitch? Talk to me. You're still in charge, Sweetheart."

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"Mm?" Glitch looks up with a contented sigh and another wriggle. "I'm good, it's all good. I'll say stop if I don't like it."

He wriggles back a little against Wyatt's hand. "I like this. Don't stop."

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"Uhuh."

Down, down, spreading oil everywhere he touches, between Glitch's buttocks, giving them a squeeze one after the other, planting kisses to his feet, Wyatt's making the most of this and loving every second of it.

Until Glitch is slick with oil everywhere it counts and them some, and perhaps unfortunately, Wyatt's patience is starting to wear thin. At least where not moving things forward is concerned. He shifts his grip so both his hands are on Glitch's behind, spreading his cheeks and working at the tiny pink hole with his thumbs.

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He giggles at the squeezes and wriggles into them, feet flexing and then curling at the kisses with smothered laughter. He is ticklish, but it feels wonderful.

Then he's hoisted up, stealing his breath as he's spread wider and thumbs tease and start to push. His eyes roll back, hips twitching slightly.

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This up close and literally in his face, sex is all Wyatt can think of, from the smell of Glitch's cock and balls to the way his breath's changed to the way he moves, everything sets Wyatt on fire bit by bit.

He wraps his left arm around Glitch's hips to keep him there, bends his right arm around his hip and gently pushes his balls out of the way so he can...

He's really going to do this. He really is.

Two fingers replace his thumbs, just rubbing and stretching for a little while before he starts working one of them inside. Slowly. So very carefully for fear of hurting his lover.

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Sex is all Glitch has been thinking about for a while now, because when Wyatt's touching him and stroking him and making him feel insane for it, he can't focus on anything else.

He plants his feet on Wyatt's shoulders, helping to carry his weight. Then two fingers push and one slips in and he's wailing with want, pushing back against him.

There's fullness. A stretch. But no pain, just that slow ache of stretch. "More," he gasps.

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He reaches for the bottle, plucks it from Glitch's hand and thumbs off the stopper, not really caring where it lands. He won't risk anything. More oil, on his fingers and easily flowing where it needs to go; he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, it's with two fingers working their way deeper.

If Glitch is sure, he'll trust his judgment.

The heat is just-- And the pressure around his fingers. "Tight. So tight." He wonders how on earth he could fit in there last night.

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Glitch actually growls, a flicker of something fiercer than his usually sweet and laughing disposition during sex. He arches again, pushing harder back. "Oh yes, yes, Wyatt, more, more, dammit! Deeper!"

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He gasps, eyes going even wider if possible, and pushes in firmly, not wanting to rush, but if that's--

If that's--

He groans, tilting his hand to reach even deeper until he's in all the way to his knuckles. "Oh, gods," he breathes. "Are you sure?"

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Glitch growls again, hips bucking and the sound dying off into a whimper. "Yes! I'm sure, I'm sure, Wyatt, please..."

He can take more. Maybe he'll need a pause then, but he knows he can take more now.

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The process is repeated, with more oil poured not quite steadily onto his fingers, and then three - three - fingers start pushing inside.

And all Wyatt can do is stare, and breathe, and listen to what it's doing to his lover. He isn't even sure if he's found that gland yet, and if he hasn't... He's almost afraid of stumbling across it.

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After everything he read, Glitch thought this would be harder, more discomfort, but it isn't. He's finding it almost alarmingly easy, body adjusting to each new width easily and comfortably.

He's panting softly, throwing an arm over his eyes as he hears himself whimper and whine.

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"So beautiful," he whispers, gently curving his fingers the way the illustration showed, pressing as deep as he can go in his search for that elusive little thing he barely even knew was there, didn't even really care for. It was just anatomy.

It's so much more now, and he thinks... He thinks he should be able to feel it. The book said to be gentle at all times, no jabbing or anything, to just...gently massage it. He can do that.

...if he can just find it. Damn, blasted walnut shaped thing. How do you go about finding a walnut knuckles deep in someone's--

Hold on. Was that--? He pulls out, and then experimentally curves his fingers the same way, pushing in.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

The curling fingers have him whimpering and his hips twitching again. It feels good, no doubt, feels very good but it's not mind blowing yet. It's still enough to make him whimper and want and barely resist demanding more, because right now, this is good.

Then there's a nudge and his entire body sings. Wyatt pulls out, making him whine until those fingers push back in and he hits the right spot.

Glitch arches off the bed with a wail of pure lust.

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"Oh." He thinks it's fairly safe to say he found it, and damn, is he happy he did. He grins, rubbing his fingers over that tiny little roundness, not moving one fraction of an inch away from it, because if just a nudge has Glitch wailing, he wants to know, needs to see what a little something more insistent will do to him.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

It has him not breathing, because he's too tense to breathe and too high to care. He bucks wildly, moaning eventually, fingers white knuckled in the blankets and head tossing back and forth as his entire body moves on its own.

He finally manages to breathe again. "Wyatt!" It's another wail. "Wyatt, please, please, stop teasing, just do it, please!"

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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."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

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

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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.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

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.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"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.

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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.

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"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."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

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.