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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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.

Harry loves it, seeing the kid go wild and spilling over himself. And that spasming around his cock is all he needs to throw him over the edge. He comes with a loud groan and Neil's name on his lips.

"Fuck, kid," he exhales when he finally finds his voice again.

They're all tangled, barely coherent, and Neil sighs a laugh when Harry manages to mumble those words. He lays there, content and boneless, and resists the urge to find Harry's hand and hold it. How terribly sentimental. But he does like being held in the aftermath of it.

"We'll get stiff if you stay like that," he says softly, with no intention of moving until he has to.

Harry laughs quietly too and it feels like the first genuine laugh in years. He leans over and kisses Neil. The kiss is chaste compared to what they've just done. It's sentimental. So what?

He pulls out reluctantly and sits down on the bed. "You want a cigarette?" He asks, as he puts a hand through the boy's hair . It's a veiled request to stay.

Neil adjusts and settles on the bed. He thinks to look for his clothes, or at least his boxers, and then doesn't. Instead, he grabs the rumbled blankets and burrows into them rather contentedly, boyishly, to cover his nakedness.

"Please." He smiles and drapes himself out a bit, long lines partially concealed by the blankets.

Harry lights a cigarette for him and passes it from his lips to Neil's. He lights one for himself next and settles next to the boy. He's covered poorly, and Harry runs a hand over a long line of exposed skin. "That was... very, very good." He smiles at his own shit compliment.

"It was," Neil agrees, enjoying this quiet moment after. He held the cigarette more than he smoked it, but there was a definite intention with that as well. He smiles at Harry, enjoying the casual touch. "I'm pretty glad I got stood up, now. This was a much better evening."

"I'm glad you got stood up too," Harry says, taking small moments to caress the boy's skin. "Stupid arsehole doesn't know what he missed."

"Decent conversation and a winning smile?" Neil says innocently, like he hadn't just done unmentionable things in this bed, like he wasn't feeling deliciously sore and well fucked. "It is a shame he missed out on that, but his loss, your gain."

Harry smiles coyly. "Yeah, among other things."

He'd like Neil to stay, but he doesn't know if it's going to scare the kid away to just ask. In the end, he does. "Want to stay the night?" He asks.

There's a bit of relief in being asked. Neil hates to presume, and there's always a decent comfort in being held as he falls asleep. He smiles softly and nods. "I can make coffee in the morning," he says gently. On his way out, or lingering over breakfast. Either will be fine, because he gets this moment of a chance.

Harry smiles to himself and gets comfortable in bed. He holds out an arm for Neil to lean against. The promise of a body next to him for the night warms his heart.

"You make coffee, I'll make eggs."

It's a rather pleasant offer, and one that Neil would be happy to see through. He leans in toward Harry, getting comfortable and relenting some of the blankets so that Harry can turn down beside him.

He gives him a brief kiss, and it hardly takes anything to settle and fall asleep. He's, frankly, exhausted in the best kind of way.

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