sunburned | (no subject)

Entry tags:

priestly

(no subject)

continued from here.

"I'm thinking we should probably get out of here," says Priestly when John's reaction is definitely not one that suggests Priestly is going too far. He slides his hand further under his shirt, so it rests just above his hip, and moves in close enough that their jaws are brushing up against one another. The feel of faint stubble against faint stubble is not one he's felt since Yorick, and he's missed it more than he realized. "Take our few successes and leave this for another day. Unless you just want to duck into the caves for a little while."

It would be so easy to turn his head, to press his lips against skin, but he doesn't. He drags in a shivering breath and nods. His shirt's open, but he feels completely naked in that moment.

"What's in the caves?" he asks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"As long as you don't mind a few in return," he says, though it's a bit late to be asking that. They're both already a little scratched up from the stone, and there's a definite mark on John's shoulder that Priestly left there. He nips at John's lower lip, and then kisses him back just as hard.

"I'll take anything you'll give me," promises Granby between kisses, pressing his knee forward between Priestly's thighs.

"However you want to give it."

"Okay, I seriously can't do this any more standing up," says Priestly. Well, unless he has something propping him up, and he gives that idea all due consideration before carrying on. "And I'll let you take your time this time."

He doesn't need anymore urging than that. He presses Priestly backwards until his knees hit the back of the bed and then he presses until he sits. He traces his thumb against his collarbone.

"God," he says, shakily. "I can't even begin to plan what I'd like to do with you. My head is spinning."

"Maybe you can teach me something new," says Priestly, leaning back on his elbows and letting his legs fall open. "You got any favourite old-timey positions?"

Granby huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes as his knee hits the bed between Priestly's thighs and he starts to peel his t-shirt off.

"It's always been kind of a fumble," he admits. "I think you're the one who ought to be teaching me, don't you?"

Priestly wonders if this is when he should admit that he's only been with one other guy. And granted, it was Yorick, so once they got over themselves, they managed to get pretty creative. But still.

"I think I've already shown you my greatest skill," he says, "but I'd be happy to demonstrate some more."

Unbuttoning his trousers one handed, Granby grins down at him before he starts to shove them down over his hips.

"Show me," he says. "I put myself completely at your mercy."

Priestly waits for him to get them all the way off, shoves his own shorts off and is even less concerned with where they land this time than he was when he dropped them in the cave.

"All right," he says, and grins and pulls John onto the bed and rolls them till he's the one on top. "Just remember you asked for it."

"Should I be nervous?" asks Granby, but he looks anything but, knees fallen wide apart to make room for Priestly between them, hand resting against the pillow next to his head. He shifts his hips experimentally.

"Only if you hate awesomeness," says Priestly, and starts at his collarbones, licking and sucking and grazing his teeth along the ridge. The frantic part is over, and now he can take his time too. He can explore this skin, these marks, these scars, and figure out what gets John going besides the obvious, which Priestly figures he's already shown his prowess at.

The word he doesn't know but the meaning is obvious. He works at staying still, sinking into the feeling of Priestly's mouth moving over his skin. His thighs do tighten, slightly, pressing against Priestly's sides.

When it comes to putting his mouth on things, Priestly is intensely focused on his task. And it's not even about what he's feeling, what he's tasting, but about the sounds it makes John make, the movements and shivers and twitches it pulls out of him. He moves downward, over his chest, tongue tracing scars and kissing marks on his skin. Nothing is overlooked.

It's so easy to lie there and just let his head spin, just focus on damp heat of Priestly's mouth moving over his skin, the brush of his tongue.

He drags in a shivering breath.

Finally he's at John's groin, licking at the creases where his body joins his legs, nuzzling at his cock but not focussing on it and instead spreading John's legs even further with one hand on the inside of each thigh and moving in lower to mouth his balls.

That's insanely good and it makes it impossible to stay still. His hips squirm against the bed and he's spread, exposed, heels digging into the bed.

And that's not a thing that he'd do to change it.

He lingers there for a long time, shifts with John's shifts, squirms with John's squirms, then he's pushing his legs even wider, pushing his thighs up, and moving back and in even deeper.

It's not the first time that's someone's done this to him, for him but it's rare enough that it makes his head spin. His groans, no words, just a long, low sound.

Priestly doesn't hesitate and he doesn't let up. He knows this territory, and he knows what to do with it. But he doesn't go too fast either, takes it by fractions, sucking here, licking there, nipping in between, until he reaches his goal and clutches John's thighs even more tightly as he licks hard over it.

That draws a loud, ragged sound out of him, his hips jerking, cock pulsing against his belly. He bites down on his lip hard, not used to the freedom to make a noise.

"Jesus."

Priestly almost—almost—stops to correct the name, because that's just the kind of thing he does, but he's way too into it now. He doesn't want to lift his head to do more than breathe, and maybe once he'd been intimidated by this but he's good with his mouth and he's good at this, too. He doesn't stop. And he doesn't touch John's cock either, at least not more than the occasional brush or bump. This time, he gets to make it last.

It's almost too much. He rocks his hips, grinding down against the press of Priestly's tongue. His hand slides down his chest, grazing against the length of his cock. He swallows hard.

Priestly doesn't stop him, because that would mean stopping what he's doing and there's no way he's stopping what he's doing. He thinks about using fingers but instead he presses them into John's flesh and continues to use his tongue, working it in a little but mostly just sucking and licking and yes, biting gently on the fleshy bits and leaving red marks in his wake.

It's a luxury he's never really even dreamed of to have this much time and privacy to revel in a thing like this. He keeps his movements slow, the rock of his hips and the graze of his fingers along the twitching length of his cock.

He sees no reason to rush any part of this.

Priestly could almost—almost—let it go on forever. It certainly feels like he's trying. But they've already come once and that means he wants to make sure that this one counts. It takes a tremendous amount of willpower to pull away, but he finally does.

"You can have me if you want," he says, the words barely a breath against John's leg, all spoken in one exhalation.