shadows_have_offended | (no subject)

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harry starks,
ig

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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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If Harry had managed to sound in control, at ease, unaffected by all this, Neil might have managed to find offense. The way his voice drips with the want of it pulls a shiver through Neil, and he turns over, rather ungracefully but being sure his knees won't go flying.

On his back, he spreads his legs to either side of Harry's hips. He grabs the pillow from under his head and wedges it unceremoniously under his lower back, giving just that little lift and support. His cock is throbbing, needy and red; he knows it will ease up for a moment when they first start, but for now, it's almost a distraction.

The unceremonious shifts, the less-than-perfect moves to get into a good position, a little and rare apologetic smiles; Harry finds them very charming. If anything they add to the appeal of youth.

"Beautiful," he comments with a moment's genuine smile, which quickly turns back to hunger. It's hard to resist the needy bob of Neil's cock, and Harry leans over to give it a languid lick from base to tip.

He then positions himself and carefully pushes inside.

Neil shakes a little under the attention, under that hot gaze. He runs his fingers across Harry's jaw, back up into his hair, and breathes, raggedly, as he starts to push in. It's an ache that he feels all through his hips, but Harry is gentle enough, slow and patient, that nothing hurts.

Harry wouldn't want to hurt Neil at all. Fear and pain were useful in his line of work, but he did not translate that into the bedroom. He's taken out frustration and anger on a boy before, during black mood, but never during sex.

Neil takes it perfectly, and Harry kisses naked skin whenever he can.

When Harry finally bottoms out in him--it feels like it takes forever, but he's sure it's only a minute or two--Neil moans uselessly. A shiver works through his stomach, through his legs, and he breathes. His hips move, just a little, getting used to the feel of him.

"Christ," he breathes. "Christ, you feel..."

Neil's hips move a little, telling Harry he's comfortable enough. He's tight and everything about him screams of his thirst for this. "Fuck, kid," he moans, taking in that picture writhing beneath him.

Neil smiles breathlessly, stretching his arms over his head and bracing a little against the headboard. He moves his hips just a little more, now with intention instead of just that settling need. It's easy to nudge his knee up against Harry's side, trying to encourage him to move. It's easy to lean up as best he can, to catch a kiss against Harry's jaw and sigh softly with the want of it.

Encouraged, Harry moves and tries to find an angle that might cause the boy more of those delicious moans. He reaches between them and grabs Neil's cock, giving it easy strokes as he moves.

The pace picks up, slowly, and Neil shifts and squirms until he gets a good angle to match the one that Harry's seeking. Coupled with the hand on his cock, he's left shivering and moaning quickly.

"Shit," he breathes, grabbing at Harry desperately. "Feels good."

"Yeah," Harry breathes, momentarily lost for anything better to say. He lets go of Neil cock to grab his arse, lifting him a little to get a better angle. He leans in for a feverish kiss as he fucks him.

Harry didn't have to say anything at all; it was in the way he moved, the growing need and strength of his movement. Neil moans and twists a little, though it's not much. He just wants to get close, get the angle just right. Get more of the way that Harry is grabbing at him, just right.

His voice is soft, breathless, needy. Mostly moans, mostly inarticulate cursing. The slightest edge of begging, as he looks up at Harry with dark eyes.

Harry wants more of that. Those dark eyes full of want, those perfect little curses and moans. "I want you to ride my cock," he breathes. He doesn't wait for an answer. Neil is quite lean and Harry stronger than he looks, so it's not that difficult for him to turn them over. He grabs Neil by the arse and guides him to a seated position on top of him, as he moves to lie down on his back.

They shift and move, Neil resettles, and he's still for a moment just to relish the feeling of it. Then he shifts his knees slightly and starts to move. It's a filthy, glorious sort of movement, the bounce and roll of his hips, how his cock bobs.

He wraps his fingers around his cock and strokes lazily as he moves.

Harry's very pleased with the outcome of their shift and Neil is every bit as striking as he rides him, enjoying himself, touching himself. "You're beautiful, kid," he breathes.

He doesn't leave all the work to the boy and moves his hips with him, and grabs his arse to guide him. It's not possessive yet, but helping the upward movement as gravity helps the way down.

Once he gets the pace of it, it's easy to move. He moans softly, pressing his hips back into Harry's hands and down on him. He can feel it building, the heat and the need. He sighs, voice wrecked and needy. "You feel so good," he mumbles, head thrown back, flushed all over.

He takes that as encouragement, and his hands guide him with a little more urgency. Harry doesn't want to take more than Neil is comfortable with, but it's tempting to move with him, to find depth and take him.

Op di 19 feb. 2019 om 18:11 schreef shadows_have_offended - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org>:

They pick up a little, and Neil whines softly. He can feel the euphoric slackness on his face, mouth slightly open and eyes unfocused. His thighs ache, but only deliciously. It's a lot of work to keep his hips moving, but he does like it.

When he feels the way that Harry is sort of moving up toward him, he leans down. It puts him at a different angle, posture practically begging to be fucked more roughly; he kisses him, brief and filthy.

The lean, the moans, the way Neil kisses him and the slightly erratic movements of his hips; it begs for more. Harry grabs his arse a little harder and takes more control over their movements, lifting Neil up and pushing him down, bucking his hips for more depth and force. "How do you want it, boy?" he asks, voice dark with lust.

"Harder," he gasps as Harry grabs at him and helps him move. He's not sure they can go harder while they're like this, but it's a thought, a want, a blossoming need in his chest. He shivers with each move, cock brushing slightly against Harry's stomach, smearing pre-come. "God, you feel good."

Harder means they'll have to move, and Harry is really enjoying their current position. He complies with the request as best he can, fucking Neil harder, until, overcome with lust, he pushes Neil off of him, and pulls him to the edge of the bed, where he lifts Neil's legs and pushes inside again. He kisses him quick before fucking him harder still.

He moves along with each push and pull, and when he ends up on the edge of the bed, he makes a filthy, desperate noise. What little composure he had left dissolves in the face of how Harry fucks into him. Possessive and a little brutal; anything else that Neil might have said just dissolves into noise.

Robbed of all composure, Neil is more beautiful still. All noises and moans and want, it only makes Harry want to take more, so he does. He grabs Neil's cock and pumps it. It's not very likely Harry will last much longer (he passed eighteen far too long ago), not with Neil like that, not after so fucking long.

There was hardly anything left in him, either. Now that Harry is really going, Neil can feels the edge of his orgasm coming at him quickly. He swears softly as Harry moves, as he strokes him. He's going to make a fucking mess and he knows it. He gasps a little, whines, softly panting and begging.

He can see the orgasm build up on the kid's face. "Yeah," Harry breathes, voice rough and dark, encouraging him not to hold back. He wants to see it, and feel it.

Something in the way that Harry speaks, this almost desperate and definitely demanding note, is all that does it. Neil comes with a shout and a whine, bucking between Harry's cock and his hand. It feels remarkable, and he can feel, as he clenches around Harry, the little throb of his cock.