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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Neil feels the movement through the bed, and he whimpers excitedly. He's nodding even before Caleb gets the question all the way out, letting out a soft, excitedly little yowl as Caleb grazes his teeth on his inner thigh like that. That's practically an orgasm right there.

"Yes," he says. He doesn't need to. Caleb must know, must feel that almost anxious, heady need and want, that overwhelming bloom of desire. He reaches down and pulls Caleb up to him so he can kiss him, hungry and desperate and feeling him hard and dripping against him.

"Please, Caleb." He's aware of how small and fragile he is like this, how much bigger Caleb is, and it puts a flush in him that just makes the want of it that much more.

Caleb is swearing softly, flushed and hard and fucking needy. He's too gone to feel nervous, so he grips his dick and uses his hand to line himself up. He presses in, and Neil's tight, but he's hot and fucking good.

He goes as slowly as he can, body trembling.

"God, fuck," he gasps.

Neil makes a noise, low and soft, as his eyes unfocus. It's different. It's totally different from fingers, or any time he's fucked, this slow, aching expanse of his body and the way that he can just take Caleb in. No need to think about relaxing or anything. He just takes it, the slightest resistance from things being new and unfamiliar.

He wraps his arms around Caleb's neck and clings to him, kissing him and his jaw and his neck.

"It's okay," he says. "It's okay if this round's quick."

Caleb squeezes his eyes shut and he nods, shuddering slightly. His hips start hitching, almost of their own accord, and it's fucking good. He whimpers into Neil's throat, then manages to compose himself, just a little. Just enough.

"I, I'm good," he grinds out. He bites his lip, then presses into a sloppy kiss. "Sh-should I...?" Move, he wants to ask, should he move? He wants to, fuck, he wants to.

Caleb moves a little, just a little, and then he's still, and Neil whines in such a way that it's a demand, frustration and desperation oozing off of him with every hitching, wild breath.

He pulls away from Caleb, bites his lip as he feels him pull out with the filthy pop that's more sensation than noise, and then he pushes Caleb up gently. It's easy to follow after, to climb onto his lap and reach down to stroke him and guide him back in.

The angle is totally different. Neil can't remember the last time he fucked front to front like this, and he blushes. Don't think about it now. Instead, he focuses on how deep Caleb feels in him, how hot, how full everything feels.

"You don't have to hold back." Neil's voice trembles with pleasure. "I...I don't want you to hold back."

Caleb bites his lip, and it's difficult not to make a sound of protest when Neil squirms away from him. Then their positions are getting shifted, changed, and Caleb moans when Neil sinks onto him again.

"A-are you sure," he breathes. He doesn't need to ask: he knows Neil's sure, can feel it in his bones, but he asks, anyway.

"Yes," Neil murmurs, a whining moan of a noise, barely a word. He's already moving his hips, rolling and squirming, riding himself up and down on Caleb's cock. He goes slow for now, trying to build. Trying to get Caleb use to the feeling of it.

Trying to get himself use to the feeling of it. He's losing his virginity all over again, isn't he? But it feels amazing, Caleb's gentle caring and nervous want.

He kisses Caleb, slow and deep, and keeps moving his hips. "Please, Caleb. Please fuck me."

Caleb swallows hard, but he nods. He kisses Neil again. Then, adjusting his knees just slightly, he starts moving his hips in earnest.

It's nothing like he imagined. Neil is hot and slick around him, tight and gripping, and his pleasure rushes at Caleb in waves. He moans, unable to stop himself. And despite what Neil had said, he holds back. His eyebrows are creased in concentration and something like pain.

Neil kisses the crease between Caleb's eyebrows. He works his hips to meet the speed and try to urge him on, to let him know that things are a little tight, but things are good. Everything feels good.

"You're worrying," Neil murmurs, voice helpless and husky. "Please, Caleb."

Caleb whines, nuzzling into Neil's touch. "Fuck," he breathes. How can he say no to that? He slides his hands down, from where they rest on Neil's back, to the swell of his ass. His muscles tremble finely, but he doesn't care. He fucks up into Neil, washed with so much pleasure that he can't keep his eyes open.

"That--yeah."

There are no more words. Just a gasps, awed sort of noise, Neil tilting his head back and whining pathetically and rapturously as he moves in conjuncture with the way that Caleb starts to build up in speed.

It turns into a chanting sort of praise, almost begging. He digs his knees into the bed as well, on either side of Caleb's hips, so they both have room to move.

He's getting closer, they both are, and he whines to feel it wash through him. He brings one hand around between them, fingers clumsy in his haste. But he finds what he's looking for, and starts circling them against Neil's clit. It's awkward, like this, but he's determined.

And when he feels Neil get tighter, hotter around him and inside him, he knows it's worth it.

Neil can't actually say, really, what it does. He knows it feels good. He can't attribute it to the touch or to the enthusiastic movement of their hips or how long they've been doing it. Caleb feels good.

He wants Caleb to feel good, and that's it. That's all of it. He clings to him desperately, rolling his hips and panting softly.

"I want it," he whines. "Don't worry 'bout me. God, Caleb..."

Caleb whimpers, and he continues moving, harder, faster. He's barely registering anything except the obscene sounds they're making: their breaths and moans, the creaking of his bed, the slick sound of Neil moving around him. Everything is liquid fire and pure pleasure, and he doesn't have a chance to warn Neil before he's coming with a sound close to a shout.

Neil feels it, and it's not like feeling it when he's a body. Everything's liquid hot, slick hot, smooth and moving still. He can feel Caleb twitch inside him, feel the heady, overwhelming rope of his come and Neil clings to him with a heady desperation.

"Don't stop," he gasps, hips still moving. He never wants to stop, if it feels this good.

"I can't," he shoots back, voice breathless and tight. Neil's arousal is still coursing through him, keeping him hard, and he should really, really try to let it go so he doesn't come again, but.

Fuck.

It feels so good. So he finds a rhythm again, one not broken up by the throes of his orgasm, and he keeps moving, muscles burning and hands slipping on Neil's skin with their sweat.

He wants, desperately, to beg but he doesn't even know for what. For everything. But he can feel the tremble in Caleb's arms and legs, and even his own desperate arousal isn't enough to push things when this beautiful, wonderful boy seems at the end of his rope.

He nuzzles at him, pulling himself together, reigning himself in as best he can.

"No, Neil," Caleb gasps. He buries his face in Neil's throat, licks a kiss there. "Please, I. I want you to come. Please. Please." He moves his fingers between them again, to Neil's clit.

"Put me on my back?"

It will make it easier, maybe. The angles, the ability to touch, everything. And Caleb will have a view of everything.

But Neil doesn't know how much longer he has. He can't tell anything like this. It's not like when he's got his cock. He can't even help guide Caleb on what will get him off. Everything feels good, and he has no idea how to get to the end of everything at this point.

Caleb nods. It takes effort, but he stops moving long enough to rearrange them. Then he's back to it, and Neil was right: the angle is better, for a lot of things, including lowering his mouth to Neil's chest and nipping at his tits, trying to find those sensitive spots that drove him wild earlier.

Everything is even more sensitive than before, and Caleb's mouth is hot and wet and amazing. It's probably too much, probably already put him over the edge or off into oblivion, but he was tight around Caleb in the first place and the sweet pleasure of it all just keeps going.

He clings to Caleb's pillows, all stretched out to the attention, making himself as long and open as he possibly can so Caleb has a view every time he unburies himself and takes a look.

"God," he gasps. "God, Christ, Jesus. Caleb. Caleb...!"

Neil squeezes him, and they come almost simultaneously. Caleb feels like he's vibrating apart, and then the molten honey softens from its bright amber vibrance into something gentler, fluffier. The glow carries him, and he sags against Neil, eyes drooping mostly closed.

The second, filling wave of it is even more than the first, and Neil thinks he can feel it leaking out of him a little bit. They float, together, in the glow of it and Neil winds his arms around Caleb all over again as they slowly start to come down from the haze of all of it.

He finds himself picking at it, the ways that Caleb had so willingly wanted all that. But it's not important. At least, it's not important right now.

He could have easily let himself drift for another ten, twenty minutes, he thinks. But then he feels Neil picking at... something. He stirs, making a low noise, and shifts himself so he can carefully pull out and away.

Then his eyes fly wide, and all traces of afterglow are gone.

"Oh, fuck. I forgot to use a condom."

"Why would you use a condom?" Neil asks, sleepy and dreamy and vague. He feels pleasantly empty without Caleb inside of him, and when he opens his eyes, he finds Caleb's expression genuinely concerned.

He has to think about it for a second. And then a second more. "I don't think I can get pregnant like this."

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

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