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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He doesn't waste any time. He's had enough practise at this to master his body, so he swallows Laurence as deep as he can, hand slipping down to cup his balls, squeezing gently. Laurence's fingers tight in his hair feel beyond wonderful. He moans and the sound comes out muffled.

"Good God, John."

It took Laurence a good deal of time to get that much out and even then he sounded shaken. Nothing he had done, no one he had ever been with, could quite have prepared him for that. It was of another class entirely.

For a long moment, Granby doesn't acknowledge that at all. There's no sound in the room but Laurence's ragged breathing, the liquid slide of Granby's mouth. His other arm rests against the wall, giving him support as he bobs his head. There are ways to drag this out, he knows that but, right now, he finds himself needy and desperate. Hungry.

Laurence was doing his utmost to hold onto a small measure of composure. Yes, he was in a somewhat delicate position, yes, Granby was incredibly good at what he doing, yes, he had already committed himself quite fully to this thing. But none of that meant that he had to play the part of a complete wanton. Though the longer that Granby continued as he was, the closer he came.

"John." He looked down. The other man showed no signs of stopping. "I--" He shuddered, just barely resisting the urge to thrust forwards. "John," he repeated, having apparently lost coherent speech.

Finally, he lefts his head, let's Laurenc's cock slip free of his mouth and curls his fist wound him instead, fingers sliding over skin slick from his mouth.

"Will," he says, softly, leaning in to press a kiss against Laurence's belly. "Alright?". He squeezes, gently. "Dont you dare come in my hand."

Laurence was already flushed and at Granby's words he blushed even more, nodding unsteadily in reply. He didn't trust his mouth to form words properly. Just the sight of Granby looking up at him like that was nearly enough to finish the job, but he could hold out for a while longer if he wished it.

"Good man."

He strokes Laurence another once, twice, before he bends his head and slides his mouth down over his cock again, sucking in firm, smooth strokes. There's only one way that he wants this to end.

It doesn't take long before Granby's goal is achieved. Despite a few abortive attempts to give the other man fair warning, he came sooner rather than later, only just biting back a cry. His fingers clenched reflexively in Granby's hair, his eyes shut tight.

It doesn't matter that there was no warning; he swallows every drop down as smoothly as he can. He keeps sucking until Laurence is starting to soften and then he pulls back, pressing a trio of lightly sucking kisses against his belly.

He's more than a little aware of how uncomfortable his jeans suddenly are.

Laurence stood for a moment, looking down at Granby, before stepping backwards and sitting heavily on the bed. "Lord. Where--" He paused, uncertain if he would appreciate the answer to that question, and along a different route instead. "You are a marvel, John."

Still on his knees, Granby grins, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb before he presses the heel of his hand against the outline of his cock through his jeans, dragging in a somewhat ragged breath.

"Just one of my many talents."

Even in such a position, after everything he had done, Granby could still manage to look so damnably... Laurence wasn't certain if there was a proper name for it, but whatever the term, Granby was the picture perfect definition of it. Part smugness, part cheek, part infuriatingly wonderful man. Laurence returned the smile, more sated than Granby, but no less out of breath. "I am glad of that."

"Me too.".

He leans up for another kiss, aware of the fact that he probably should have rinsed his mouth before hand, but also inexplicably excited by the fact that he hasn't.

Laurence returned the kiss, noting the taste, but not realizing it for what it was until a while later. Realization made him blush anew, but he did not break away from Granby.

"Oh, God, Will," mumbles Granby, smudging the words into the kiss itself, hand resting against Laurence's bare thigh. "You'll be the death of me."

"I sincerely hope not," he answered, pulling away from the kiss enough to look Granby in the face. It was clear the other man was not finished with himself, but Laurence did not know precisely what he intended to do about it and he could not inquire outright.

He pauses for a moment, just looking at Laurence like he can't quite believe his luck. Then, very carefully, he stands up. It's awkward, one handed, but he's got smoother at it. He strips his jeans off, strips himself naked and stands there,ncheeksflushed but not through any sense of shame.

"You don't have to," he says, because that needs to be said, here. "But I'd very much prefer it if you did."

Laurence looked up at Granby, wetting his lips anxiously. While he had greatly enjoyed what had been offered to him, he very much doubted he could return the favor, both through lack of skill and a good deal of lingering reluctance. "I-- I am not certain I can. Not the way you might prefer it."

It takes Granby a moment to catch on but then he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"Let's not run before we can walk, shall we?" he says, getting on the and holding his hand out to Laurence. "Just come and lie down with me."

To say that he felt some relief would be an understatement, but luckily he did not let it show too much in his face. Instead, he took the offered hand and nodded, as calm and collected as he could be under the circumstances.

He's got Laurence's hand in his and, when they're both settled, he guides that hand to his hip.

"Simple might be better," he says. "We're in no particular rush."

"No rush at all," he repeated, though he was vaguely aware of the fact that it was still the middle of the day, a time hardly fit for such activities, or so he always believed. His hand rested lightly there on Granby's hip, still except for his thumb slowly stroking.

The slight,nlighttouch is maddening and Granby collapes against the pillow, idly chewing on his lip as he looks up at Laurence.

"This much, at least, you must have done for yourself," he says, one eyebrow raised. "Same as in the palace only now neither of us is drunk or married."

"Thank goodness for that," Laurence said in reply, choosing not to bring up the fact that Granby had been the one to be both of those things the last time while he had been entirely sober. With almost no hesitation he took Granby's cock in his other hand, trying to do the thing much as he would for himself.

His eyes immediately slip closed and he lets his breath out in a shaky sigh. He rolls his hips, once, pushing through the circle of Laurence's fingers.

"Slower," he says, fingers grazing the back of Laurence's hand. "Please."