sunburned | (no subject)

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laurence

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It's been raining on and off all day and, finally, Granby gives up on trying to be productive. He abandons his sketchbook and sprawls on his bed instead, wounded arm pillowed under his head, hand resting on his belly. He dozes, idly and, somewhat inevitably, he thinks about Will. It's a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon, even if he does feel worn tight in every muscle, like something waiting to explore.

The rain is almost enough to make him homesick.

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The encouragement set Laurence smiling and his strokes grew steadier, more confident. He wanted to do this. He wanted to see Granby come and know that he was the one who had brought him to that state. The thought made his hands speed up for a moment, before he remembered himself and returned to his established rhythm.

It's been much more recent for him than it has been for Laurence but, despite that, it's not going to last long. He doesn't really want it to. He leans up, leans in, his mouth grazing against Laurence's, as much to breathe him in as anything. His hips are moving smoothly now, rocking forward against Laurence's hand, pressing into his grip.

Laurence wondered vaguely if he ought to be saying something. But he was no good at things like that, not when he was working hard enough just to get the motions right, and words could wait. Undoubtedly there were other things he might do. Emboldened by Granby's own movement, he leaned down for another kiss, his hand still moving steadily.

The novelty of Laurence being the one to lean in for a kiss hasn't worn off yet. Granby groans against his mouth, his fingers skimming up Laurence's arm to his bicep.

"1ould you believe," he says, voice a little breathy, "that I've dreamed of this exact thing?"

"Of this exactly?" Laurence looked at Granby with a somewhat doubting expression. He knew by his own admission that the other man had harbored feelings about him for some time, but he could not quite get used to the fact that they had apparently been so... detailed.

"Among...other things."

He leans in for another kiss but doesn't quite get there, his breath catching in a soft moan, his lips almost against Laurence's. His hand tightens on his arm.

"I...Forget I said it."

Though he very much doubted he would forget it any time in the near future, Laurence nodded his head and obligingly quit the subject. A man's private thoughts were his own and Laurence would respect his privacy and not intrude.

He pulls Laurence in for another kiss and then there's nothing but his body, friction and want and, when he comes, it feels almost wrung out of him, as he comes across Laurence's fingers and both of their bellies.

"Oh, Jesus."

Laurence smiled, nowhere near as smug as Granby's expression could be, but visibly pleased with himself nonetheless. He stayed right where he was for a brief time, gazing at Granby with a rather tender look before rising to go and find something to clean up with.

If there was a look on Laurence's face then Granby misses it entirely, still in the middle of it all. When Laurence gets up off the bed, Granby sprawls back against the pillow, hand across his eyes.

"Good lord, Will."

"It was satisfactory, then?" Laurence asked, returning to the bed to begin cleaning up. Even though he had lately finished an act that he would never have dreamed of doing with another man, let alone twice his mind was already on to matters of neatness.

"More than satisfactory," he says, more than content to stay sticky for a moment as he watches Laurence move around the room. "Perfect."

Laurence found his face reddening once more at the compliment. He had been called many things before, but never that to his knowledge. "Perfect, John?"

"Aye," says Granby, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at Laurence, blush and all. "You're a quick study, Will."

Laurence gave a small smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed. No matter how far gone he may have been, he very much doubted he could ever lose himself as completely as Granby did. "I have the benefit of a patient teacher."

"Who? Me?" He huffs a laugh. "Wait until I've got to teach you to do something that actually takes skill. Then see how patient I am."

Laurence looked mildly unimpressed at Granby's statement. "It is much easier to compliment someone when they do not immediately refute it, John."

"I imagine that it is," says Granby, reaching out to brush his fingers against Laurence's bare knee. "I'll try to do better."

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