shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

Entry tags:

guy burgess,
ig

(no subject)

They haven't spoken much since that night, though Neil's made the effort to check in when he can, and when Guy will make the effort to let him know that he's alive right back. Phones are, for neither of them, a forte. Often, Neil forgets that he even has his. But it's good for convenience, and so that he has a line to Guy on the chance that his friend wishes to reach out in the midst of all he's going through.

Neil thinks they're friends. He'd like that, at least. As he's told Guy, he doesn't have many, and he's lost quite a few.

But for the most part, he gives Guy his space. He remembers the trauma of his arrival, of adapting to Darrow, and in some ways, Neil thinks that learning his future might be for Guy what arriving in Darrow was for Neil. Twice over, now, since the arrival is itself a trauma. So he goes to work, he completes and sends off his application to college, and he does not think of the photographs hidden in his desk, sent to him by Guy. Now, knowing he's a spy, they make sense. He still doesn't know what to do with them, though.

He still doesn't know what to do about a lot of things.

The repetition of his life makes him a predictable creature. Neil's a little sad for that. Sometimes, he does think of their night out at the club; it was nice, until it went sour, just because it was something he didn't do very much of. He misses being rebellious and free.

Which is, maybe, how he ends up standing at the end of the block, looking at the lines that go into the clubs, trying to steel himself up.

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The position is an easy one, and Neil spoons against Guy comfortable, chin over his shoulder, close as he can get. He's blissfully half aroused--the teasing, being surrounded by a room of attractive men, being young and stupid and a little drunk--and he doesn't shy away from pressing into Guy like that.

"Maybe a couple people," he admits. "Nobody in particular yet."

Guy didn't mind the pressing at all, and comfortably eased against him, and yes, perhaps he did move his arse a little to rut against him. Just a little.

It did catch the attention of someone, who was looking at them from the dance floor. An appreciating glance, a little tug at the corners of the man's lips. Guy couldn't resist and put a hand through Neil's hair, almost demonstratively, and cocked his head with a little devilish grin.

Neil sees the man watching them, and when Guy reaches back for him, he tilts his head into the touch a little. He smiles, mouth brushing Guy's ear gently. "Do you think he's watching you, or me, or the both of us?"

Guy grinned. "Not sure," he said, thoughtfully, entirely comfortable leaning against Neil like this. "Want to ask him?" That would be a bit too much, perhaps, but Guy couldn't resist.

"I think he should have to come over, don't you?" Part of that is because of his own nerves, but it's also not wanting to leave the casual tangle they've gotten themselves into.

He presses a kiss to Guy's neck, above his collar.

Yes, dirty bugger, come over to a crowded bar and share you lurid fancies.

Oh, Guy did love this club, and Neil's wicked comment more so. He hummed to the kiss, but kept his eyes on the man. Then, with the slightest nod, motioned him to come over. Challenged him to, even.

Neil watches, almost shyly, from over Guy's shoulder. When the man starts to move toward them, he can feel the nerves build in his gut. He's not sure if he's prepared for having a stranger come over.

He drinks more of his drink and smiles when the man reaches them. He's handsome, a little taller than Neil, and he looks at them both appraisingly. Neil's pretty sure that means not just one or the other. Something in that look makes heat thrill in his belly. He doesn't know what to do with it.

Guy couldn't feel the whole range of Neil's emotions from where he stood against him, but feeling a little heat, and a little fidgeting, he could extrapolate most of it.

"See something you like?" He asked the man, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Perhaps he should have let Neil do the talking, but he told himself it was just a little nudge and Neil might appreciate it.

Edited 2018-11-29 19:35 (UTC)

The man smiles at the two of them. His voice carries over the noise of the club. "Do you come as a set then?"

Neil unwinds from Guy, but only a little bit. Not enough to dislodge the hand still in his hair, or to really let go of him, but enough to imply that they could come apart, if that was necessary.

The man looks them both over and orders something. His grin is lazy, handsome. "I'm into it."

Guy glanced over his shoulder to Neil to see if the young man was getting the implications here. His hand left Neil's hair and cupped his cheek for a moment. He was warm. It was a warm club, of course, or it might be a growing blush. He grinned either way. "He's into it, lovely. How about you?" He asked.

There's definitely a feverish blush on Neil's cheeks, but he's aware of that implication. For a moment, his voice fails him. When he finds it, it's wrapped in as much practiced schoolboy charm as he's got. And he has got an awful lot of it.

"I'll try about anything once," he says, and the man laughs brightly at it. He drinks his drink, and then nods his head to lead toward the back of the club.

Sometimes, when in the vicinity of school boys, Guy missed possessing that schoolboy charm. There was the memory of it on his face, as he was often reminded by those who fell for his charm, but there was something devilish about being a schoolboy and seducing older men, that he would admit he missed.

He was very pleased by the answer, though, and stole a kiss before they headed to the back.

In the shadowy back, Neil lets his nerves shiver through him. He steals another kiss from Guy, slow, lingering this time, aware of the man watching them. Aware of the unfamiliar hand climbing up his back the longer they kiss.

He gasps a little when he's pulled away from kissing Guy, when the man leans in and kisses him instead. He slides a hand into Guy's, squeezing his fingers briefly. It's the reassurance of his presence, the knowledge that he won't leave.

Guy squeezed Neil's hand in return, and kissed it, almost chastely, assuring him he wasn't going anywhere. He drew his fingers through Neil's hair then, allowing the other to kiss him for a while, until he cupped Neil's chin and asked for attention by gently moving him away from the man's lips. He kissed Neil again, deeper, this time.

He felt the man's hand brushing against his own on Neil's hair.

It's overwhelming, gently trapped between the two of them, passed gently back and forth between their kisses. He wedges himself fully between them, comfortably unsure exactly who was where. He knows he's still holding Guy's hand; his other hand finds the front of the other man's jeans and rubs at him, squeezing, bold and suddenly needy.

Even though Neil was still holding his hand, Guy could tell the young man was getting comfortable between them. The gasp from the man told him Neil was getting very comfortable, and was touching him with his free hand. Guy meanwhile, found Neil's neck, and kissed it, pressing himself into the boy lightly, but insistently.

Neil tilts his head back, exposing his neck to Guy's attention, leaning back into the man. It straightens the world out a moment, and how they're all tangled up. But only for a moment. He's dizzy and a little drunk.

The man tilts Guy up, and kisses him over Neil's shoulder, right beside his ear. It's a noise that goes straight to Neil's cock.

The kiss was lazy, and self-assured, and both men were obviously aware what it was doing to the boy between them. Guy reached down to brush his fingers over the front of Neil's trousers, then he took the man's hand and brought it to the outline of Neil's cock. With his own hand covering the man's, they touched him.

It makes him heady and reactive, that double touch. Neil closes his eyes and rolls his hips between them. It feels easy to let go, now that it’s started, now that he’s already here and it’s happening. He swears under hos breath and fumbles, trying to open up their anonymous companion’s jeans with only one hand and behind his back.

It earns him a slightly teasing chuckle against his ear. “Easy there. You can turn around if you want it that bad.”

Guy took a step back so Neil could turn around. He did wonder how far Neil was willing to go in a dark corner of a club. Secluded, yes, but not private. In the heat of the moment it might not matter, but he wouldn't want Neil to feel bad later. One could try everything once, but the shame might last longer.

Perhaps things were decided for him. "Or do you and your boyfriend want to take this somewhere else?" He asked Neil, kissing Neil between sentences. "I don't live far."

Edited 2018-11-30 06:05 (UTC)

A shiver goes through Neil, whether in anticipation or Guy moving away from him or the quiet, delirious promise of everything--it's hard to tell. He fixated, for a brief moment, smudging his words softly against the man's mouth--"He's just a friend."--but it's just a stall.

It wouldn't be the first time he's fucked around in a public place. And he is trying to be bold and confident and rebellious, all those things that these last six months have taken from him. On the other hand, going home with someone means a bed at least.

Neil looks at Guy, breathless, question in his eyes; they could cut the night short, if they wanted. The man doesn't let up kissing at Neil's neck.

Guy grinned and leaned in. "Whatever you like," he promised against his ear. "You say it, and I'm game for it."

The man hummed. "Does that go for me too?"

Guy smiled wickedly. "No. He's special."

The decision is laid at his feet and, for a moment, Neil's not sure what to do with that. He presses his forehead against Guy's and just breathes, just relishes the moment and listens to their banter. He waits and lets it draw out. And, when it seems like he can't quite make the decision for himself, their new companion helps him along.

He leans in toward both Neil and Guy, and Neil can hear the smile in his voice. It's a kind voice. "Let me take you both home," he says, and then, with a slightly more wicked note in his voice, "Let us take you apart, kid."

Neil's breath shivers out of him and he nods.

It mattered that it was Neil's decision, even if nudged a little. He looked flustered and excited and Guy leaned in for one more kiss before they would leave the club. He found the man's hand on his neck as he did, heavy and warm.

Guy leaned into it a little. "Let's go, then." he said, one last glance to Neil, to see if he was absolutely sure.

Neil nods again, stealing a kiss from one and then the other before he gently pulls away from both of them.

The journey is a quick one, because it is relatively close, to a neat little townhouse just on the edge of midtown. Once they're all in the front door, Neil toes off his shoes out of habit. There are no drinks offered or any sort of small talk. They're not here for that sort of thing.

The door is barely shut behind them before the man pulls Neil in and kisses him. It's deeper, more filthy than in the club.