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priestly

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Where they end up is the hut that Granby shares with Laurence. Short on patience, Granby steps in, pressing Priestly back against the wall beside the door before he leans in for a hot, hard kiss.

"So, aside from keeping you quiet," he murmurs. "What else did you have in mind?"

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Priestly arches his back, pushes back against him, and makes a desperate sound in his throat that he can only pray will be interpreted as "now, please, now, please, now" or some variation thereof because there's no way he can express himself more clearly than to just offer all of him to John.

It's mesmerising, watching the rock of Priestly's hips back onto his cock. Granby squeezes his hip, drags him back harder and there's a loud sound of skin on skin.

He groans, softly and rocks hips hips, pushing deeper.

"Stop," he growls. "Don't move."

Priestly actually hasn't had any trouble following any of the orders until now. But not moving right now is an order of an entirely new magnitude. He manages, but his body shakes as he does.

There's very little restraint in him, right then. His hand stays hard on Priestly's hip and he slams into him, dragging almost all of the way out before he thrusts back in, hard enough to rock Priestly forward on his knees, whether he told him to stay still or not.

Priestly's moving even more than he normally would because he's offering no resistance, now backwards thrust to meet him. He feels like finally, finally he's getting it, sensation so sharp it's shooting right through his daze. He's going to be a mess when this is over. A useless wreck. And it's amazing.

And now there's barely a conscious thought in his head, he's so lost in it. His fingers tighten on Priestly's hip, hard enough to bruise. He forgets to bite back a moan.

Priestly is so far past what he imagined he could take and well into stuff he never even really imagined. Okay, he's probably imagined it at some point, but only because he was a very imaginative teenager when it came to porn. He had no idea, though. Not then, not even an hour ago. It's so much. It overwhelms him.

He'll probably be ashamed of it, later, but, right then, he's not even thinking about Priestly, not in any terms more sophisticated than the sensation, the friction and the heat of him. He yanks Priestly's body back down onto him and groans, a hoarse, strangled sound.

He's so close that he can taste it.

Priestly's whole body moves wherever John pushes and pulls it, getting him so deep, deep enough to really feel it, hard and tight and full. He makes noises loud enough to be heard through the gag, not words but cries and shouts and stifled gasps. Loud enough to make sure that John hears him and knows.

It's the sounds that do it in the end. He all but shouts himself when he comes, hips jerking, nails digging into the skin over Priestly's hip.

It's a long moment before he can do anything other than kneel there but then he's moving to loosen the bindings around Priestly's hands, tugging the tie out of his mouth and pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

It takes Priestly longer than that to come back to himself, to get a firm grasp on reality again, to feel John solid against him, lips against his skin. He breathes deeply, filling his lungs with oxygen, then turns his head and searches for a kiss, something solid and grounding. He doesn't think he can move much more than that.

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