untitled ficlet for lily
May. 8th, 2009 01:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephanometraI promise ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
candidlily 500 words, and she ends up with 1100. What can I say, I'm a giver.
Thanks toboweryd for the beta and to fictionalaspect for the initial audiencing.
***
Jon makes a soft, pleased noise, his hand sliding in the faint sheen of sweat on Ryan's back, and Ryan has the sudden thought that this is probably his favorite part of sex: the long afterglow after the mundane shit has all been taken care of, condoms thrown out and messes hastily cleaned up so they can just go back to bed (or go to bed for the first time, if they never actually made it that far) and tangle themselves together, sharing lazy kisses and idly considering round two.
He pulls away to breathe and stares down at the bruised-red curve of Jon's mouth, knowing that his own probably looks the same but with the added bonus of beard burn—not that he minds—and that makes him smile.
Jon smiles softly back and skims his hand down Ryan's side to curl around his hip, solid, anchoring. "What?"
Ryan touches Jon's swollen bottom lip with his fingertips. "Nothing," he says, and then traces his fingers down over Jon's chin, his neck, feeling the difference between his beard and the soft skin below it, smiling again when Jon's head tilts back as he offers up his throat for the touch.
He goes easily when Ryan pushes him onto his back, but he quirks a brow at Ryan and says, "Nothing? Really?"
"Something," Ryan admits, and leans in to press a kiss just above his fingers, the slight rasp of stubble rougher on his oversensitive lips than it was on his fingers.
Jon is quiet and still as Ryan touches him, whisper-light kisses following the whisper-light touch of his fingertips down to the hollow of Jon's throat and then up again, following the line of his collarbone upwards, outwards, and then grazing his teeth lightly over the point of Jon's shoulder as he wraps his fingers loosely around Jon's wrist to pull his arm away from his body a little, exposing the pale of his inner arm.
"Ryan—" Jon starts, and then cuts off with a sharp inhale as Ryan kisses down the strong curve of his bicep.
Ryan pauses in sucking a tiny bruise into the hollow of Jon's elbow. "Let me," he says.
Jon shivers, his wrist spasming a little in Ryan's grip. "Yes," he says.
Ryan presses his smile against the little red mark in the shape of his mouth and then keeps going, soft little kisses down to the pulse point in Jon's wrist, feeling the bones shift under the skin as Jon unconsciously clenches and unclenches his fist. He fits his right palm against Jon's left, smoothing out Jon's fingers, and then takes his hand away to kiss the center of Jon's palm and each of his fingertips in turn.
Jon's fingers curl a little to cup Ryan's face, and Ryan rubs his cheek into it for a moment, smiling again, before turning Jon's hand over and brushing his lips over each of his knuckles. He puts his mouth against Jon's pulse again, feeling the quick but steady beat under his tongue. Jon moans, and Ryan breathes out shh against Jon's skin as he starts kissing back up his arm.
He walks his fingers across the breadth of Jon's chest, following with his mouth, pausing to tongue at the dip of his sternum, the points of his nipples. Briefly, Jon's fingers tangle in Ryan's hair, holding his mouth to his chest, until Ryan bites down gently and makes a disapproving noise; Jon makes a similar sound, but he drops his hands anyway, skimming his palms over Ryan's shoulders and then bringing his arms back to his sides, passive, waiting for whatever Ryan is going to do next.
The skin under his tongue as he kisses down Jon's chest is warm, salty with sweat and bitter with traces of come. The whole bed smells like sex anyway, but the scent gets stronger the closer he gets to Jon's cock, hard again already, pearling with wet at the tip. Ryan dips his tongue into Jon's navel and then detours completely, avoiding Jon's dick in favor of tracing the cut of muscle at his hips with his fingers and mouth, biting gently at the jut of Jon's hipbone as he uses his free hand to urge Jon's thighs apart, exposing more pale skin for Ryan to taste.
Ryan strokes the inside of Jon's left thigh as he kisses down his right, fighting his own desire to make this rougher, more purposeful; fighting his own arousal in order to keep his touches gentle and light. He makes it as far down as the inside of Jon's knee before he makes the mistake of glancing up, of seeing Jon spread for him and panting as he arches into Ryan's teasing little touches, his cock hard and dripping precome on his belly, still slick and open between his legs from when Ryan had him before.
Jon's head drops back against the pillow as he moans again, desire verging on desperation shaping Ryan's name on his lips, and Ryan doesn't think that anyone could be expected to resist that.
He scrambles up the bed, reaching over Jon to grab at the supplies on the bedside table and very nearly kneeing Jon in the balls in his haste; he feels Jon's gasp as Ryan kisses him again, slanting his mouth against Jon's hard and sucking Jon's tongue into his mouth.
Jon's ankle hooks around Ryan's calf, toes poking at the back of his knee. "You didn't finish," he pants between kisses as Ryan clumsily moves between his legs and tries to get them ready without pulling away from Jon's mouth.
"Next time," Ryan says, testing Jon with two slick fingers before lining himself up and pushing in.
Jon cries out and wraps his legs around Ryan's hips, turning his head away from Ryan's and breathing hard through the stretch, because it's been almost an hour since Ryan was inside him. "That's what—shit, Ryan—that's what you said last time."
Ryan moans at the tight clench of Jon's ass around him, kissing Jon's neck until he feels Jon's breathing even out, feels the tension in Jon's thighs where they're hugging his hips that tells him Jon's ready for him to move. He noses at Jon's jaw until Jon turns his head again. "Someday I'll make it," he says as Jon tilts his face up, eyes half-lidded and dark.
He twines his arms around Ryan's neck, sliding his hands into Ryan's hair again. "No rush," he says, and then pulls Ryan down for another kiss.
♥
candidlily 500 words, and she ends up with 1100. What can I say, I'm a giver.Thanks to
boweryd for the beta and to fictionalaspect for the initial audiencing.Jon makes a soft, pleased noise, his hand sliding in the faint sheen of sweat on Ryan's back, and Ryan has the sudden thought that this is probably his favorite part of sex: the long afterglow after the mundane shit has all been taken care of, condoms thrown out and messes hastily cleaned up so they can just go back to bed (or go to bed for the first time, if they never actually made it that far) and tangle themselves together, sharing lazy kisses and idly considering round two.
He pulls away to breathe and stares down at the bruised-red curve of Jon's mouth, knowing that his own probably looks the same but with the added bonus of beard burn—not that he minds—and that makes him smile.
Jon smiles softly back and skims his hand down Ryan's side to curl around his hip, solid, anchoring. "What?"
Ryan touches Jon's swollen bottom lip with his fingertips. "Nothing," he says, and then traces his fingers down over Jon's chin, his neck, feeling the difference between his beard and the soft skin below it, smiling again when Jon's head tilts back as he offers up his throat for the touch.
He goes easily when Ryan pushes him onto his back, but he quirks a brow at Ryan and says, "Nothing? Really?"
"Something," Ryan admits, and leans in to press a kiss just above his fingers, the slight rasp of stubble rougher on his oversensitive lips than it was on his fingers.
Jon is quiet and still as Ryan touches him, whisper-light kisses following the whisper-light touch of his fingertips down to the hollow of Jon's throat and then up again, following the line of his collarbone upwards, outwards, and then grazing his teeth lightly over the point of Jon's shoulder as he wraps his fingers loosely around Jon's wrist to pull his arm away from his body a little, exposing the pale of his inner arm.
"Ryan—" Jon starts, and then cuts off with a sharp inhale as Ryan kisses down the strong curve of his bicep.
Ryan pauses in sucking a tiny bruise into the hollow of Jon's elbow. "Let me," he says.
Jon shivers, his wrist spasming a little in Ryan's grip. "Yes," he says.
Ryan presses his smile against the little red mark in the shape of his mouth and then keeps going, soft little kisses down to the pulse point in Jon's wrist, feeling the bones shift under the skin as Jon unconsciously clenches and unclenches his fist. He fits his right palm against Jon's left, smoothing out Jon's fingers, and then takes his hand away to kiss the center of Jon's palm and each of his fingertips in turn.
Jon's fingers curl a little to cup Ryan's face, and Ryan rubs his cheek into it for a moment, smiling again, before turning Jon's hand over and brushing his lips over each of his knuckles. He puts his mouth against Jon's pulse again, feeling the quick but steady beat under his tongue. Jon moans, and Ryan breathes out shh against Jon's skin as he starts kissing back up his arm.
He walks his fingers across the breadth of Jon's chest, following with his mouth, pausing to tongue at the dip of his sternum, the points of his nipples. Briefly, Jon's fingers tangle in Ryan's hair, holding his mouth to his chest, until Ryan bites down gently and makes a disapproving noise; Jon makes a similar sound, but he drops his hands anyway, skimming his palms over Ryan's shoulders and then bringing his arms back to his sides, passive, waiting for whatever Ryan is going to do next.
The skin under his tongue as he kisses down Jon's chest is warm, salty with sweat and bitter with traces of come. The whole bed smells like sex anyway, but the scent gets stronger the closer he gets to Jon's cock, hard again already, pearling with wet at the tip. Ryan dips his tongue into Jon's navel and then detours completely, avoiding Jon's dick in favor of tracing the cut of muscle at his hips with his fingers and mouth, biting gently at the jut of Jon's hipbone as he uses his free hand to urge Jon's thighs apart, exposing more pale skin for Ryan to taste.
Ryan strokes the inside of Jon's left thigh as he kisses down his right, fighting his own desire to make this rougher, more purposeful; fighting his own arousal in order to keep his touches gentle and light. He makes it as far down as the inside of Jon's knee before he makes the mistake of glancing up, of seeing Jon spread for him and panting as he arches into Ryan's teasing little touches, his cock hard and dripping precome on his belly, still slick and open between his legs from when Ryan had him before.
Jon's head drops back against the pillow as he moans again, desire verging on desperation shaping Ryan's name on his lips, and Ryan doesn't think that anyone could be expected to resist that.
He scrambles up the bed, reaching over Jon to grab at the supplies on the bedside table and very nearly kneeing Jon in the balls in his haste; he feels Jon's gasp as Ryan kisses him again, slanting his mouth against Jon's hard and sucking Jon's tongue into his mouth.
Jon's ankle hooks around Ryan's calf, toes poking at the back of his knee. "You didn't finish," he pants between kisses as Ryan clumsily moves between his legs and tries to get them ready without pulling away from Jon's mouth.
"Next time," Ryan says, testing Jon with two slick fingers before lining himself up and pushing in.
Jon cries out and wraps his legs around Ryan's hips, turning his head away from Ryan's and breathing hard through the stretch, because it's been almost an hour since Ryan was inside him. "That's what—shit, Ryan—that's what you said last time."
Ryan moans at the tight clench of Jon's ass around him, kissing Jon's neck until he feels Jon's breathing even out, feels the tension in Jon's thighs where they're hugging his hips that tells him Jon's ready for him to move. He noses at Jon's jaw until Jon turns his head again. "Someday I'll make it," he says as Jon tilts his face up, eyes half-lidded and dark.
He twines his arms around Ryan's neck, sliding his hands into Ryan's hair again. "No rush," he says, and then pulls Ryan down for another kiss.
