sunburned | (no subject)

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laurence,
timeloop

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And this is bloody intolerable. By his count, it's been fourteen nights, which means fourteen days. Fourteen weddings and fourteen chances for Anahuarque to turn to him with that particular look in her eye. Some of the nights have been easier than others - sometimes, he's risen to the occasion and others, he hasn't. For her part, Anahuarque seems genuinely kind. There's something particularly hard in the way she leans in to him, her hair loose around her shoulders, and touches his face.

His arm bothers him and he drinks a lot.

He's not sure when exactly it happens. It's as though something entirely snaps inside his head. Tonight is one of the nights when it does not go well, when he takes time to please her in other ways and then lies beside her, open-eyed, until her breathing levels and slows.

Drunk as he is, there's only one place that he can go.

He walks in without knocking.

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The breath caught in Laurence's throat at the touch. Almost immediately following, a flush began to spread across his face, and Laurence ducked his head, embarrassed that something so fleeting could have affected him so.

It's not much, but it's enough - Granby smiles. He feels less like he's hustling Laurence in the direction of something when he's at least half unwilling. He turns his head, grazing his lips against flushed skin, fingers tracing the line of Laurence's collarbone.

"Relax," he murmurs. "Try to, at least."

Laurence shuddered, not at all unpleasantly, as he was touched so once more. He would try to relax as Granby asked, though there was no guarantee of it happening in the near future. He was far too focused on the utter strangeness of the thing for that. But nonetheless he found himself nodding his head. "I will try, John."

What he had not expected, not really, was for Laurence to react in a way that was so clearly positive. Granby doesn't really know what he's expecting here, what he's aiming for, other than closeness and warmth and something approximating love. If not being in love then something very close.

His fingers curl against the side of Laurence's neck. tugging their bodies flush together from shoulder to knee as he pulls him in for another kiss. It feels like he's getting hungrier by the second.

Laurence could not help feeling considerably baffled by the whole thing. Though he had no true grounds for comparison, to him it seemed to be moving very quickly. Perhaps too quickly for, despite Granby's telling him to relax, he still remained rather unyielding, his frame tense as though he was merely waiting for something to prove so strange that it would drive him from ther other man's attentions. Nothing yet had proved so unpleasant -a state of affairs that still worried him- but he remained at the ready, even as he strove to match Granby's kiss in manner deserving its evident hunger.

Even drunk, he's deeply and profoundly aware of the resistance in Laurence's body. His hand doesn't stay still for long, sliding down Laurence's torso, the edge of his thumb nail grazing against his nipple through linen.

"This bloody arm," he says, laughing. "I've never been so aware of the need for two bloody hands."

"Ah." Laurence glanced down at the hand in question, desperate for an excuse to focus on something other than the path of its partner. As Granby said, he needed to relax, but that was a difficult state to achieve when he was preoccupied with the other man's every move and gesture. "Perhaps we might find someway to save it, if we are to be stuck here indefinitely," he offered, being as he was unsure of the finer mechanics of time travel, for all he knew it might well be possible.

"Aye, maybe."

His hand skims lower, following the line of Laurence's side down to his hip. His fingers dig into Laurence's hip, tugging him in harder. He makes a soft sound, rocking his hips forward into the press of Laurence's body.

"Seems your body's going on without you, Will."

To that Laurence had no response whatsoever. He could feel his features grow even more red and a deep sense of shame filled him. To be willing to help a friend in need, but to have his body enjoy it so thoroughly... A weakness that he had not thought he possessed had been brought to light and he did not know what to make of it.

"I want..."

He does not quite know how to finish that sentence. He doesn't know quite how much he dares ask for. His hand pushes up underneath Laurence's shirt, palm pressed against bare skin over his hip.

Laurence drew in an unsteady breath, just as uncertain as Granby was, if not more so. He shifted slightly under the other man's hand, trying to get a feel for this strange new thing he had found himself a part of. "What, John?"

His thumb strokes against Laurence's skin, the smooth heat of him. He shifts his hand, fingertips tracing along the waistband of Laurence's breeches.

"I would very much like to feel like I'm completely in control of something," he says, quietly. "If only for a moment."

The request was somewhat unexpected, though the more Laurence thought about it the more it seemed to make sense. Poor Granby had been deprived of his freewill for an intolerable amount of time, all through seemingly no fault of his own. It stood to reason that a man in those circumstances would seek to grasp what control he had, though Laurence had no notion of how he planned to go about it. Nevertheless, he nodded as if he understood in full.

Edited 2012-07-31 22:24 (UTC)

Maybe it would be better not to think about it at all. Better to let everything be visceral and let desire carry him. He leans in to take another kiss and his hand slides down, palm pressing against the hard outline of Laurence's cock through his breeches.

The brazenness of the touch startled him and, almost without any conscious thought, he found himself pressing himself back against it, suddenly aware of just how long it had been since another person had touched him in so intimate a manner. It was far easier not to dwell on such a thing though, and instead to focus on the lips meeting his own, the hand on his body.

A part of him had been prepared to be shoved away and, when he isn't, he finds himself grinning into the kiss. This is something that he knows, something that he's confident in. Laurence pushes into his hand and Granby squeezes, gently, stroking him through clothes.

Laurence made a small noise into the kiss, reaching out to grab a hold of Granby before his brain could get opportunity to interfere and stop the gesture. In the midst of everything, the pleasant and the confusing, it felt comforting to have an anchor of some sort.

It's going better than Granby had any reason to expect and he echoes the sound that Laurence made. He changes the placement of his hand, rubbing his fingers along Laurence's cock before he starts to unfasten his breeches, one-handed but deft, all the same.

"Just breathe," he advises, pressing another kiss to the corner of Laurence's mouth, rocking his hips forward to press his own cock into the hollow of Laurence's hip.

It was sound advice and Laurence did his best to follow it. But the finer points of it were easily lost among the sheer amount of sensation. The hand, the mouth, his own body becoming more willing by the moment and Granby's clearly ready long before it. That, actually, was what gave him the most pause, a prominent physical reminder of how out of his experience his current circumstances were.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

It comes out very quiet, breathed against Laurence's skin but, quiet as it is, he means it. He pauses, his fingers against Laurence's skin, Laurence's breeches sagging open.

God, he hopes that Laurence doesn't say it.

There was a brief pause, Laurence leaning against Granby, his breathing unsteady, nearly trembling with anticipation for lord knew what, exposed in more ways than one. He shook his head. It was too late, they were too far gone, for them to stop it now.

He really needs no more permission than that. He shifts his hand, sliding inside Laurence's clothes to curl his fingers around his cock. Granby draws in a shivering breath. He feels an answering throb between his own thighs.

"God, Will..."

Laurence shuddered at the contact, biting back a small noise of pleasure. Despite it all he was still aware that their surroundings were far from the ideal spot for such an enterprise, especially when the man in his bed was the new husband of the Sapa Inca herself. However, Granby appeared to have no such reservations.

This much, at least, Granby can do with practised ease. Pressed close, making the most of the friction that's to be gained from his own shirt and the press of Laurence's hip behind it, he rolls his wrist, stroking the full length of Laurence's cock slowly.

He presses another kiss to Laurence's mouth, muffling any sound that he might make, getting lost in the other man in every way that he can.

For the moment he successfully held back any other noises his body wanted to make. Laurence may have been out of his depth and out of control, but he was still determined not to make a spectacle of himself. Just the fact that he was actively returning the kiss should have been enough.