shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

They’re near enough in height that it’s not clumsy to fit together, but Neil’s still just a little bit taller. That’s less important, stretched out underneath Steve. He wiggles a little, moves until they fit together neatly—or maybe just because it’s a point of friction and he wants to see how much he can work this other boy up, wants to see where the boundaries are. Kissing another boy is one thing, after all. Neil’s distinctly aware that he’s the more practiced party here, when it comes to what two boys do with each other beyond kissing, because Steve’s admitted to that.

He's almost entirely on top of Neil now, pressed together at chest and hips. He can still feel that electricity, which makes him remember what he said to Dustin. The way that Neil wiggles underneath him draws Steve's attention to his own rapidly hardening cock. He pushes the kiss deeper, tilting his head to nudge at Neil's mouth, wanting to kiss him deeper.

It was Neil's turn to let out a quiet noise, a wanting sort of sigh as he opened his mouth and sought more, as he grabbed at Steve a little harder. It's easy, when he can feel Steve like that, to let himself feel wild and carried away. It's easy to arch up against him while they kiss, to let the heat of it all sink low in his belly and get him harder by the second.

He can feel Neil starting to get hard, feel himself answering, and his cheeks flush dark, but it just makes him hungrier. He kisses harder, squirming a little to press his hips down more firmly, with a little bit more purpose.

"God," Neil breathes against Steve's mouth as his hips start to move, as they go from just being pressed together to starting to slowly grind. He clung to him, both hands in his hair now, tugging slightly now.

Steve realises that he's grinding against Neil in a way that he wouldn't ever have ground against a girl, especially if they were making out like this, just on the couch. He lifts his head, blushing a little, the way that Neil's fingers pull in his hair sending a twisting shock straight through him. He glances down the line of their bodies, to where they're pressed together.

"Is this...Is it okay?" He thinks it is, but, right then, he needs to hear the answer, too.

At first, all Neil can do is nod. His hips haven't stopped moving, this slow, subtle roll that seeks the pressure and friction of Steve above him. It doesn't seem worth asking. Of course it is, because neither of them has pulled or way or said otherwise, so it must be.

He looks at Steve, makes himself open his eyes and look at him. "Yeah," he whispers. "You?"

"Yeah, it's okay," says Steve, squirming a little more, his knee slotting between Neil's, nudging his thighs apart, pressing their cocks more snuggly together through two pairs of jeans. Steve's breath catches in a gasp. "More than okay."

Neil's head tilts back as Steve shifts like that, exposing his throat for a moment and leaving him gasping a bit. It's a lot of layers, but it's still good friction, and he sort of laughs for feeling so easy and desperate for it.

It's been a long spring and summer. Maybe he's been thinking about this more than he ought to have been, since they kissed at the club. He'll let himself feel guilty about that later.

"You know, uh." Neil cuts himself off, because he wants to kiss Steve again, wants to drag him in by the back of the neck and really kiss him, for a second. Unabashed and wanting. When he pulls back, he's a little nervous and breathless. "Uh, the bed's...a little bigger?"

Moving into Neil's bedroom feels like a big step but it's one that Steve finds that he wants, in that moment. He nods and then he bends his head, grazing his lips against the side of Neil's neck. "Yeah," he say, finally. "Bed. That...sounds like a really good idea, actually."

They linger yet, not quite ready to move, because it does seem a hurtle, a stumbling block. Neil's put it into the air, and Steve's said it's alright, but there's no rush. Maybe they should have had a little more to drink, or maybe they should have gone out somewhere and stumbled back and seen how things went, but they didn't do either of those things.

Feeling stone cold sober and ridiculously turned on, moving to the bedroom doesn't have to mean more than what they're doing on the couch, with the added benefit of being able to move more easily.

He pushes Steve gently back, nudging him up so they can make the migration.

Steve lets himself be led. He's achingly aware of the hard line of his cock in his jeans, his eyes drifting to Neil's ass as he follows him into the bedroom. Once they're there,Steve takes a deep breath and then he steps in behind Neil, wrapping both arms around his waist so that he can pull him close and kiss the side of his neck.

He leans back into the hold, the warmth and weight of him, the feel of him so close, and he tilts his head to the side so he can feel more of those soft, inviting kisses. Gently, Neil runs his fingers over Steve's hands.

There's a cautious lie he wants to tell--this is it, they can just kiss, there doesn't have to be anything else--but he wants too much more. So, instead, he keeps quiet. He rolls his hips back against Steve a little, presses his ass against the shape his cock as they just stand there like idiots.

"Fuck," breathes Steve, quietly, his mouth pressed against Neil's neck. He's never been with a girl who squirms against him like this and, honestly, it's ridiculously hot. One of Steve's hands slides lower, his fingers skimming the front of Neil's jeans. Lightly. Almost tentative.

After so much confidence and surety, it's almost nice to feel the hesitation. Neil nods his head a little bit, though with the way he's tilted to accommodate Steve kissing his neck, it's more of a rock back against his shoulder. Yes, he wants the touch. Yes, it's alright. Yes, there's nothing to worry about.

"Don't be nervous," he murmurs, trying to sound more sure of the situation than he feels. He has the experience here, after all, which still seems strange.

It feels weird to be touching a cock that's not his own. Weird, but not bad. He cups Neil's cock through his jeans and squeezes gently, pulling him back into the cradle of his hips.

"You feel really good," he says. He's only just now realising how long it's been since he was this close to someone he wanted. Someone who wanted him.

Neil whines at the almost teasing way that Steve touches him, the way they fit against each other. There's a heat in his voice that sinks right through him, that for a moment Neil can only blush about. For having just tried to assure Steve to not be nervous, he feels a little nervous himself.

He turns his head a bit, smudges a kiss against Steve's cheek and nudges toward his mouth sloppily.

Steve takes his hand away but only so that he can tug at Neil, turn him in his arms so that they're facing each other again so he can take a kiss.

"IN bed or on it?" he asks, eyebrow raised. Right then, he's pretty sure that he'd be up for either.

It's a question with a lot of weight, all of a sudden, and it has Neil licking his upper lip in contemplative anticipation. His stomach flutters. He curls his fingers in Steve's shirt and he backsteps toward the edge of the bed. It's bigger than any bed he ever had growing up--at his parents or at Welton--and he knows it's better with someone else in it.

"Let's start out on it," he says as he sinks down to sit on the edge, "and see where we go from there."

One of Steve's knees hits the bed beside Neil's hip so that he can duck his head and kiss Neil again, leaning down into it. He's achingly aware of how hard he is, how uncomfortable his jeans are and, in this position, the relative distance from his cock to Neil's mouth.

He leans up into it, this sort of awkward kiss at the angle they're at. He knew, when he sat on the edge, exactly where he'd end up. The picture that made, and all the suggestion that lived in their position. Don't be nervous. He doesn't say it, because it's just for him this time, just a quiet mantra. He's not, not exactly.

As they kiss, he slides a hand across the bulge of Steve's cock, feeling the shape of him through his jeans.

Neil touches his cock and Steve feels dangerously close to exploding. He drags a breath in through his nose, kisses Neil a little bit deeper, a little bit hungrier before he pulls away.

"Fuck it," he breathes, laughing, as he pulls back enough to start undoing his belt with a snap of leather.

There's a moment, at the noise of snapped belt, where Neil almost jerks away. It's instinctive more than anything else, and it's blessedly fast in its passing. He looks at Steve, his smile and soft laughing face and it's easy to be back in this moment.

He helps tug his belt off. He can't stand the potential of that noise maybe happening again, so he tosses it aside, before putting busy fingers to work on Steve's fly.

This part is more familiar to Steve and he leans back and lets Neil work on his flies. Underneath, he's wearing dark boxers, his cock straining against soft fabric. He bites his lip, tousles his fingers into Neil's hair.

For a moment, Neil's breath stutters in his chest. He's got a little practice at all of this--some fumbling at Welton, more here in Darrow where it's a bit safer to be himself--but he's still largely a novice. He knows that Steve likes girls, but not if he's been with a lot. There's a moment, a worry, in his chest that maybe Steve has and he won't be as soft and nice as all that.

But Steve liked kissing. Neil's under no suspicion that Steve's thinking of something else right now, because he could definitely feel how turned on Neil is by all this. He touched him too.

He licks his lips and pushes his jeans and boxers down, leaning in to kiss the soft skin of Steve's hips, working down toward his cock as he wraps his fingers around him. A little noise leaves him against Steve's skin as he touches him.