shadows_have_offended | [Aug 15] The sun, the moon, and stars

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[Aug 15] The sun, the moon, and stars | for Caleb

He might be avoiding Caleb, just a little bit. Not quite. Still answering texts and everything, but since he woke up like this, a little shorter, a little different--well, it's a weird situation, and he already had to spend so much time convincing the director of the Shakespeare shows that they really didn't need to pull in the understudy, he could still do it just fine.

But then Caleb asks if Neil wants to come over, and Neil can't say no to that. He can't. There's no way to blow him off. It's after rehearsals and he has nothing else to do for two days, and he's come up with every other conceivable excuse up to this point.

So a weird thing happened and you can't freak out or laugh about it, okay? But I'll be over soon.

It takes him a little while to get there, coming from the park and walking, but he needs the walk to steel himself to the possibility that, even if he's warned Caleb, he might get a rude reception. He doesn't think he will--but you never know.

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"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, we can." He shifts, cupping his hands under Neil's ass so he can stand. God, Neil weighs nothing like this. It's so easy to carry him into the bedroom. He hesitates at the bed, though. "Do you... want to stay on top?"

Neil squeals as Caleb picks him up like that, a shrill, happy noise. He clings to him, laughs, holds tight. And as they go, he showers Caleb's face with happy, excited kisses, grinning the whole time.

They reach the bedroom, the bed, and Neil considers.

"I want you to put me down for a second," he says. "So we can get naked?"

"Right, right," he says, still grinning from the shower of kisses. He lowers Neil to the bed, then leans back so he doesn't accidentally, like, punch him in the face while he starts unbuttoning his own shirt.

Neil helps, as much as he can help. Mostly he's just in the way. The shirt. Caleb's shorts. His own shorts. He wiggles out of those still sitting on the bed, peeling them down to reveal the panties he's wearing underneath, stained wet at the crotch from his arousal.

After he's dropped his shorts off, he scoots off the bed, onto his knees, in front of Caleb and smiles up at him. So sweetly, almost innocently. It's not the first time he's been there, just the first time he's looked like this. It's a day of firsts.

Caleb giggles a little every time he has to navigate around Neil. He slows down once his shorts are off, once Neil's on his knees, and he blushes. He combs his fingers into Neil's hair. It's longer, like this, but still the same texture, the same warm, dark brown he's grown so familiar with.

"Want me to sit on the bed? Stay here?"

"Like this is good," Neil says, soft and low, as he lifts his hands to feel the shape of Caleb's cock in his boxer briefs. It's the same familiar shape as always, except that now his fingers are smaller, more dainty against the lovely size of him.

He straightens up a little, and he's just tall enough that he can rub the mound of his breasts against that straining bulge.

Caleb takes a deep breath when he starts touching him, but the shape of Neil's breasts against his dick is new. He looks down at him, eyes going wider.

"Oh my god, what," he whispers. Where the fuck did Neil even think of this?

Neil pauses, leaning back a little bit and looking up at Caleb with a slightly shocked look on his face. "Is that--no?"

"Wh— no, nonono," Caleb assures. "I just, I-I wasn't expecting it, and— where did you, like, how did you..." He stops, puffing out a breath. "Not a no," he finishes lamely.

Neil sort of shrugs. He's seen porn--watched even straight porn because of the guys in it--and there's been a bit of this. It didn't even really cross his mind until he was there, he was kneeling there and thinking of how plush his chest is and how hard Caleb is even after his first round.

"I thought it'd be fun," he says.

Having tried porn for all of thirty seconds, himself, Caleb has never seen something like this. He's heard gross stories in the locker rooms, guys wanting to come on their girlfriend's tits, or something, but the feelings had always been squeaky and slimy, and he'd tried to avoid listening.

This... doesn't feel like that. This is him and Neil, and Neil is curious and excited and still aroused, and Caleb is all of those things, too.

He nods.

"Okay. Yeah." He blushes again, just a little, but smiles. "Yeah."

Neil comes in close again, a slow movement in case Caleb decides its too much. He brings his hands up and slowly pulls his boxer briefs down, making a soft, needy noise as Caleb's cock springs forth.

He's so much bigger when Neil's small like this, when he's dainty and overwhelmed in all the best ways.

Hands up, Neil strokes him, slow, languid, leaning in to lick him from root to tip. He thinks having skin to skin with nothing slick but a bit of precome might be a little too much friction. Better to get him slick first.

This is more familiar, and Caleb makes a low noise as Neil touches him, licks him. His eyes drift closed, despite how badly he wants to watch. He steadies his feet a little, and keeps his hand in Neil's hair, like an anchor.

It's slow, building. Gentle touch and attention, lavishing Caleb with more and more attention the more that they get into it. It's learning all over again, really, because he's a little different like this, and it takes some adjustment to get used to things all over again.

He wraps his lips around the head, bobs up and down slowly, groaning softly around him. And he puts his hands on his chest, playing with his new, sensitive tits again. It drives a lovely noise out of him, vibrating along Caleb's cock in his mouth.

Caleb gasps, the sound and the feeling of Neil's pleasure jolting through him. He tightens his fingers in Neil's hair, and this time, he manages to tip his chin down and look. He watches the way his dick disappears into Neil's mouth, the way Neil's hands play with his tits. He shudders and feels his dick pulse precome.

"Fuck, Neil."

The raw need of Caleb's voice sinks through him and Neil looks up for a moment. He manages to smile around him, his eyes soft and dark and needy. Was it too much to ask to just be adored like this? It did things to him that he wasn't sure how to explain, in the best kind of way.

He pulled back, pulled off with a pop, licking his lips and panting softly. "Do you wanna sit down? Your knees are shaking."

"A-are they?" he asks, unable to take his eyes off of Neil's face, now. His hips hitch forward of their own accord, like his body is telling him to tell Neil to keep going. He bites his lip, but shifts around Neil so he can lower himself to the bed.

Neil waits patiently, as patiently as he can, as Caleb gets settled, and when he has he snuggles in between Caleb's knees. He runs his fingers over Caleb's thighs and scoots in.

This time, he lifts up and gently nudges at Caleb with his breasts. It's a little silly, but Neil does like the look of it, how Caleb's cock feels hot and and twitching against his skin.

Caleb spreads his legs to give Neil plenty of room, scoots close to the edge of the bed to give him an easier time reaching it. And when Neil frames his dick with his breasts, so fucking close to his chin, his mouth, Caleb has a hard time keeping still. He groans softly, then laughs breathlessly.

"Okay. O-okay, I'm. I get it. This is— hnn— th-this is good, too."

"Soft, and warm," Neil says, laughing a little. He bends his head down and licks the precome from the head of Caleb's cock, sucking that filthy, wonderful fluid into his mouth.

"It feels good," he assures, because it does. Warm and now it's a growing friction that he can't stop now. "You can move a little. You can...you can fuck my tits, sweetheart."

"Fucking—" Caleb gasps out another laugh, but he starts hitching his hips. He moves shallowly at first, until Neil encourages more from him. The sound of him sliding between Neil's tits is obscene. He moans, fingers tightening in Neil's hair.

His stomach clenches as he gets closer to coming.

Edited 2020-06-21 22:01 (UTC)

It's a sweet sort of filth, the way that Caleb handles him, the noises he makes. Occasionally he bends down and sucks, or spits, or otherwise makes sure that things are slick and moving. He keeps his breasts pressed tight around him, likes the tension of fingers in his hair.

"Feels good," he assures, soft, tender. "You look so good. Are you going to come for me, Caleb? I want you to make a mess of me. I know you'll still be hard afterwards, or in a minute. I want to feel it. Please."

"Yeah, yeah, ah!" Caleb loses rhythm, his hips jerking. He braces his free hand on the bed for that little extra bit of leverage. Then he whines, high and loud, as he comes, spilling across Neil's chest.

Neil whines too, high and desperate, as he feels the splash of it. He lets a couple of twitches coat his skin on his chest, his neck. But then he leans down and sucks the head, to taste the mess of his come as he swallows it down.

He's dripping. He can feel the mess of his arousal all over the inside of his thighs, slick and filthy and wonderful.

Caleb shudders through his orgasm, even spills a bit more when he feels Neil's mouth on him. He pants sharply, head tilted back like he needs to open his throat more to get enough air.

And he is still hard, because Neil's arousal is a pressing thing, filling him up. God, fuck, it feels good.

"Here, up, c'mere," he mumbles, and hooks his hands under Neil's armpits to lift him bodily up into his lap. Then he pulls him into a sharp, sloppy kiss, while one hand dares to find its way between Neil's legs.

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