shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

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harry starks,
ig

(no subject)

He has work in the morning, but it's not stopping him from going out. Besides, this is hardly going out. One of his coworkers put him up on a blind date, and so he's out for that--but the other guy was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, so Neil doesn't think he's showing up at all. So here's Neil, standing outside of a bar, smoking and feeling a bit like an idiot for being stood up.

He should probably just go. If the guy wasn't here twenty minutes ago, or even five minutes ago, it's reasonable to say that he's not coming and Neil should just give up. He pulls out his phone and checks the texts. There's the one from his coworker, describing the guy he's supposed to be meeting, and there's the one from the guy, confirming that he has Neil's number.

Maybe he'll go to a club. Maybe he'll just go home so he can smoke in a heated room rather than shivering outside. Maybe he'll get this fucking meal and send a picture to the guy; his loss. Neil's an entirely pleasant date.

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"I can think of other things to do," Neil says, a little coy, smiling as he takes a sip of his drink. He loves to dance, and would gladly be silly about it just now, but he thinks he'd much rather be kissing than dancing, if Harry might insist on not dancing with him.

Harry inclines his head and smile. 'Oh, you can?' the look says.

He sets aside his drink, pries the glass from Neil's hands as well, and leans in to kiss him again.

There wasn't much prying to be done. As soon as Harry sets his drink aside, Neil's already preparing for the approach. He meets the kiss gently at first, but easily and happily deepening it again. Yes, this is exactly what he had in mind. A far better end than his blind date probably would have taken.

He presses back a little, enough that he can climb onto Harry's lap and make himself comfortable while they kiss.

Harry's enjoying the kiss - the kid is a good kisser. He shifts a little, but before he knows it, Neil is on his lap instead making himself comfortable. He huffs a sigh and it's almost a moan. It's hard not to react - it's been too long and his body wants a lot more than just a kiss.

He puts his hands on Neil's hips and deepens the kiss.

Neil sighs as well, not quite a moan but certainly enjoying himself. He runs his fingers up Harry's chest, feeling the shape of his body through soft cotton, until he finds his buttons. He doesn't quite start unbuttoning anything, but he smooths his fingers near them, a tease, a question. His hips move gently on Harry's lap, definitely a tease.

It doesn't help that the way the kid moves is like he's asking him to get on with it. Harry moves his hands and tugs at the waistband of Neil's trousers, then snaps open the button. He pulls back from the kiss and locks eyes with Neil. "Yeah?" The last question before he gets on with it.

"Yeah," Neil says, soft and close, smiling. He feels a little flush, but mostly it's just that heady, overwhelming need of it. He hadn't intended to end up like this tonight, though he doesn't regret it. And Harry is gentle, careful, like he's worried Neil might change his mind.

A year ago, he might have. He's trying to be more confident about it. So he tugs at Harry's shirt, starts to unbutton it.

Harry knows a lot of boys who do it because they need the roof over their head, or because they think they owe Harry. He knows he can come across as a man who gets what he wants - he is that kind of man - but he doesn't want to impose on any kid. Consent is important to him, at least when it concerns his own sexual encounters and affairs.

As soon as he has it, he leaves Neil's trousers to get the kid's shirt off first, if only because he kinda likes how he's sitting on his lap right now and taking off his trousers requires Neil to move.

Neil laughs and leans back a little bit so it's easier to take his shirt off. He still leans into styles of the fifties more often then not--neat collared button-downs and t-shirts underneath, though he's more lax with jeans instead of trousers, but he'd also dressed up for a date tonight. When his shirt is gone, he rests bashfully for a moment. He's fit still, though he hasn't done sports for the past couple years now, and he's aware of the freckles smattered all over his chest and shoulders, standing out against his fair skin.

Fair's fair. He focuses on Harry's shirt as well, wanting to see him too.

Neil's quite pretty, with sweet little freckles on his shoulders and chest, and a shy little smile on his face, and Harry smiles with an appreciative look on his face and kisses him again.

He lets Neil take his shirt of next, and helps by shrugging out of it. Harry's quite fit himself - he's not into pumping iron, but he minds what he eats and does his exercises. Scars adorn his own chest - business risk. There's an old stab-wound, a few scars of varying age and a more recent large but fading bruise on his side - courtesy of the London police force.

Neil trails his fingers gently from spot to spot, not asking questions. Not right now, anyway. It isn't his business what put those scars there, though he thinks they make Harry rather rugged and handsome.

His fingers linger on the edges of the bruise without pressure. He leans in and kisses Harry again, still touching gently.

Harry isn't proud of the scars, nor is he ashamed of them. They're a part of what he is and who he is. There's something erotic about having Neil trace them each with his fingers, though it might just be that he's been deprived of delicate touches to his body for so long and any touch would go straight to his cock.

Rough hands trace gently the boys frame, feeling the soft skin, the slight reactions he's causing, and it's delightful.

Eventually, his hands make it to that waistband again and they tug at it.

"Are we going to stay on the couch?" Neil asks softly, a pure curiosity because he had no complaints. He shifts a little, leans back and gets up on his knees, so it's easier to get at his trousers. He bites his lip a little, watching Harry's face.

"Didn't think about that yet," he smiles easily, and puts a hand on Neil's cheek. "Just want you naked," he admits with a cheeky tug at the trousers. And with that in mind, he does start to take off the boy's trousers.

Neil smiles and breathes out soft, mirthful laughter as Harry smiles and pulls at his trousers a bit. He kneels up a little, making it easier to open them, and sliding his hands down to push them slowly off his hips. He'll have to get up properly if they want him all the way out, and he doesn't really want to move that far.

Harry practically snickers when he realizes Neil doesn't want to move far enough to get those trousers off. He likes that eagerness. He gives Neil a playful pat on the arse. "Go on, up. I said naked. You can come back after."

He's quietly thrilled about it, smiling and blushing just a little bit now. He gets o his feet and slowly peels his pants off. There's a part of him that wants to try and be sexy about it, but he's sure it will just come out goofy. So he gets out of them, and out of his briefs, because Harry asked for naked.

When he's stripped, rather than climbing right back into Harry's lap, he leans in to kiss him again, and reach down to open his trousers as well.

Harry takes a moment to enjoy the sight. It's not a show, as such, but it's lovely. And Neil is quite good-looking naked too.

He shifts to accommodate Neil on his lap again and smiles when the boy decides he doesn't want to be the only one naked. He stops him with a hand over Neil's. "Let's go to the bedroom." He prefers getting undressed there rather than getting naked here and having to walk. He likes having a young naked man walk about the flat, though.

Neil's hardly upset to be the only one naked. He smiles and steals another kiss before easing back. Rather playfully, he stretches, and makes a show out of that more than stripping was. He's half hard and ready for more, and to posture a little does make him blush a bit, but it's spectacular.

He steps back from the couch and takes a second to glance around the apartment before spotting the little hallway back to the bedroom. Easy enough to head in that direction, now he's been invited.

The playful, youthful show makes Harry smile genuinely, and he follows Neil into his bedroom. The room is pretty standard as well, except for the flowers on the side table and a few magazines on the night-stand.

Once the door is closed, he approaches Neil and kisses him again, hands roaming freely over his naked form.

He leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms slowly around Harry's shoulders and smiling against it. The way Harry touches him, he leans into every single one, pressing in closer. He runs his hands down Harry's chest, tracing those scars and bruises once more, until his fingers land on Harry's waistband again.

He's deft, at opening his trousers and pushing them down. At this moment, he just wants to be able to touch and see all of him, and it's a breathless moment when he does wrap a hand around Harry's cock.

Neil's forward and a bit bold and Harry loves it. He utters a short but guttural sound as Neil's hand wraps around him. It's been too bloody long. He kisses him more deeply and slowly but surely moves them to the bed.

He shuffles backward, not giving up the kiss until he hits the edge of the bed. He only turns away from the kiss for a moment, so he can get up on the edge of the bed, kneeling right there and stroking him slowly.

"I want to suck your cock," he murmurs, eyes soft and expression slightly needy.

Harry doesn't know if the kid's doing it on purpose, but every look Neil gives him, every move he makes and every word that comes out of his mouth goes straight to his cock. He can't resist those eyes and he kisses him again, but he pulls back because he definitely wants Neil to suck his cock. He sits down (he doesn't trust his knees standing at the moment) and smiles. "Go on, then."

Harry sits and Neil contemplates sliding off the bed, kneeling on the floor between Harry feet; in the end, he lays down on the bed, sort of curled toward him as he leaned. He licks, strokes him, working from Harry's balls to the tip, sucking it into his mouth with hungry abandon.