"I can't get enough of you either," he says in an echoed statement, chasing that saucy kiss with another one, sucking Idia's tongue as he delves in deep. He wants it hot and messy and unrestrained, holding Idia in one arm while his other reaches down so he can get a firm hold on that rutting member and give him more friction to push into.
When Idia's mouth leaves his to explore his skin, he moans softly, arousal growing once again as his body recovers from its earlier explosion. "Don't hold back," he all but begs.
Idia groans, hips jerking as Cater grips him. He can’t move too far down his boyfriend’s body like this, but it doesn’t matter. His lips and tongue soothe the places his teeth gently nip. He traces the contours of jawline and Adam’s apple, lingers over the thrumming of the pulse at Cater’s neck.
That desperate plea, though… it makes Idia crave more. He remembers something that feels like it happened a lifetime ago, when he was scared of these new adventures. It’s almost instinct that has him gently pry Cater’s fingers away so he can press their lengths together, taking them both in his own hand to stroke slowly. Cater’s flesh against his is so hot it makes him dizzy, Idia burying his face in his boyfriend’s hair to muffle a whine.
Oh, the things that Idia Shroud does to him. The sound of his voice in this pleasured state is more than enough to rile him up, so between that and the sensations on his hot skin that his lover produces with his teeth and tongue his own body is starting to squirm, his hips wanting to buck and move.
Even without clear thought, Cater automatically follows Idia's gentle, silent orders. Moving his hand out of the way, he uses it to hold Idia closer as their shafts are made to create friction against one another. It has been so long since they've done that, hasn't it? Since their first time being intimate.
But now, Idia's the one taking the lead--Cater would be proud if he wasn't so distracted. "I love you," he moans on a whine. As always, Idia's slowness is the most perfect kind of torture, long fingers keeping him from thrusting wildly in his grasp. "I love you so much."
If not for Idia's mouth drifting through copper hair to the helix of Cater's ear, teeth and tongue teasing there, he might echo the sentiment. But instead of words he lets touch speak for him. Along Cater's ear, the curve of his jaw, down his neck to the perfect spot over his collarbone, and there he sucks a red mark into bloom. They can leave those now with no one to see them. It's wonderful to stop holding back. He squeezes and strokes, their heartbeats synchronizing so the pulse in his grip matches perfectly from both sides. He wants their bodies to simmer, not boil over, this isn't the time for them to fumble their way to a too-quick release.
So to that end, Idia doesn't linger, though he knows Cater feels as bereft as he does once he lets go to grab the lube instead. Sitting up so he can gaze down at his boyfriend sprawled in the sheets, he slicks his fingers and rubs them together to warm the gel. There's no hiding the soft, fond smile on his lips, his flames pooling pink and warm down his back and onto the bed.
"My Legendary SSR... my Player 2." His fingers stroke between Cater's legs, slow and with barely any pressure. "All mine. I'm so selfish, but I don't care." A fingertip barely pushes in and pulls back, teasing. "I want you so much." Another press, like a slow push of a controller button. "I love you, Cay."
An involuntary whine escapes him when Idia pulls away, but he settles back and smiles as he watches his lover, eyes hazy and mystified. He can feel the gently blooming pressure on his skin in the space where Idia left a mark, wants to savor that fresh feeling. "You're not selfish," he promises, reaching for Idia's free hand with his own as he opens his legs wider.
Cater sighs, enduring the sweet teasing with a bite of his lower lip, hips chasing the penetration, begging for more.
Idia’s smile takes on the slightest hints of shyness at the praise, but where he would’ve protested before he only blushes more and finally sinks his finger into Cater. He starts moving slowly, barely curling his fingertip and purposefully missing that hot spot inside. Teasing his boyfriend has become one of his favorite things, as much of a thrill as debugging difficult code or the first successful boot-up of a new system. He loves seeing those spring green eyes fog over with desire.
“How do you want me, Cay? Wanna kiss and be sweet, or do you wanna go wild n’ freaky?” He curls his finger again as if beckoning, then one becomes two the next time he pushes in, scissoring. “Eye contact or no? You know it’s good no matter what.”
With a noise of pleasured agony, Cater's eyes flutter. His mouth parts, muscles of his abdomen straining the more he wants--the closer that Idia gets before pulling back again and again. "I want it all," he tells him, huffing out another moan. Sweet, hard, messy, loving...all of it, all the time, forever. "But I want to see you."
That much, at least, Cater's able to make up his mind on. Those incredible eyes, Idia's beautiful, individual uniqueness.
Idia wants to tease him. He wants Cater to come undone on his fingers, then again and again with their bodies tangled. He wants to draw this out, when they have all the time in the world at long last.
But the need to be inside his sweet, adorable partner wins out. He's been craving it since their encounter on the train, fanned the flames in the kitchen, and now he can't ignore his body's-- or his heart's-- cries for more. So from the instant his fingers slide free Idia slim weight presses Cater into the bed, hips shifting restlessly as he finds his target. Even as he slowly spreads his boyfriend open around him, his hands guide the ginger boy's legs around his waist. Envelop, entangle, ensnare... Idia groans with his head bowed over Cater as they join, dizzy with the thought that if they were any closer they might actually melt into one. His forehead settles against Cater's, his eyes slitted and dark, a drunken sort of smile on his lips.
Cater's happy to follow along with all of Idia's movements. He locks his ankles around one another as his legs settle into the places they've been guided, breath stolen as his arms snake around Idia's back and pull their bodies even tighter together. Being here, like this, Idia's hair blanketing them in a realm of softly-toned flame. It's warm, warm in a deeper way than just the heat of their bodies.
And now, eating up every sound and every word that Idia speaks, Cater wants to steal his breath, too. He nuzzles their faces together where they connect at the forehead, tilting up so their noses press, and then their lips.
"All of me is yours to take," he murmurs before his tongue slides in and tangles their mouth together more fully. Cater's fingers caress against Idia's shoulder blades, gentle and loving.
Missing out on this kind of bliss is unthinkable now. They’d been so foolish and scared, but they’ve grown together and now they have all this. Idia could cry, he can’t believe how much everything has changed. He almost can’t move yet, overcome by the enormity of making love to Cater without fear of being caught. It’s the start of their lives together.
He kisses Cater until breathing through his nose isn’t enough, breaking away to rain kisses over the ginger’s cheeks, his jaw, his neck and shoulders. Hips roll, the slow push and pull drawing a desperate noise from Idia. He can feel the warmth of sunlight on his back from the window, the golden glow through his pink flames like strawberry lemonade.
“Cay… I’m all yours, Cay….” How can his heart be any more full than it already is? But he can feel the warmth growing, chasing away the cold, until he can almost forget he had ever been lost.
Cater watches Idia through half-lidded eyes whenever they flutter open, torn between savoring every sensation and preserving a picture-perfect snapshot in his memories of this time between them. His hands roam, cupping, caressing, tangling, loving all of him as their bodies push and pull against each other at an easy, natural pace.
The intercourse is secondary to everything else, just another piece of the puzzle that is this expression of gratitude and devotion toward one another. Cater kisses Idia just as much in return, lips dotting and sliding against his pale skin. Every little angle, to him, is perfect no matter how sharp or strange.
"I'm so in love with you," he murmurs, almost as if to himself--but it's an admission he's more than happy to share with his lover.
There's no denying the warm, aching flutter in Idia's chest at those words. So much love and he feels like he'll burst. Is this really what it's like to live in the light? Is he truly allowed to have this? Again, as he has so many times in the past months, he swears he's dreaming and prays he'll never wake up from it. Even if this joy puts him at risk for the curse burning him, he refuses to give any of it up.
He moves without reservation, knowing that no one will walk in to catch them, no curfew to dodge and no need to restrain any sound. A deep lunge pulls a loud groan from him, hands sliding under Cater's backside to squeeze, hold, lift. Closer, he wants to be closer even if it's physically impossible, his flames brightly wild with pink and red, curls of fire licking at the air in coils almost like looping hearts. Their mouths find each other again, sharing breath, tongues tangling. More, more, more, he's selfish and greedy but it's okay because they both are, for each other.
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When Idia's mouth leaves his to explore his skin, he moans softly, arousal growing once again as his body recovers from its earlier explosion. "Don't hold back," he all but begs.
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That desperate plea, though… it makes Idia crave more. He remembers something that feels like it happened a lifetime ago, when he was scared of these new adventures. It’s almost instinct that has him gently pry Cater’s fingers away so he can press their lengths together, taking them both in his own hand to stroke slowly. Cater’s flesh against his is so hot it makes him dizzy, Idia burying his face in his boyfriend’s hair to muffle a whine.
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Even without clear thought, Cater automatically follows Idia's gentle, silent orders. Moving his hand out of the way, he uses it to hold Idia closer as their shafts are made to create friction against one another. It has been so long since they've done that, hasn't it? Since their first time being intimate.
But now, Idia's the one taking the lead--Cater would be proud if he wasn't so distracted. "I love you," he moans on a whine. As always, Idia's slowness is the most perfect kind of torture, long fingers keeping him from thrusting wildly in his grasp. "I love you so much."
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So to that end, Idia doesn't linger, though he knows Cater feels as bereft as he does once he lets go to grab the lube instead. Sitting up so he can gaze down at his boyfriend sprawled in the sheets, he slicks his fingers and rubs them together to warm the gel. There's no hiding the soft, fond smile on his lips, his flames pooling pink and warm down his back and onto the bed.
"My Legendary SSR... my Player 2." His fingers stroke between Cater's legs, slow and with barely any pressure. "All mine. I'm so selfish, but I don't care." A fingertip barely pushes in and pulls back, teasing. "I want you so much." Another press, like a slow push of a controller button. "I love you, Cay."
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Cater sighs, enduring the sweet teasing with a bite of his lower lip, hips chasing the penetration, begging for more.
"You're beautiful."
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“How do you want me, Cay? Wanna kiss and be sweet, or do you wanna go wild n’ freaky?” He curls his finger again as if beckoning, then one becomes two the next time he pushes in, scissoring. “Eye contact or no? You know it’s good no matter what.”
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That much, at least, Cater's able to make up his mind on. Those incredible eyes, Idia's beautiful, individual uniqueness.
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But the need to be inside his sweet, adorable partner wins out. He's been craving it since their encounter on the train, fanned the flames in the kitchen, and now he can't ignore his body's-- or his heart's-- cries for more. So from the instant his fingers slide free Idia slim weight presses Cater into the bed, hips shifting restlessly as he finds his target. Even as he slowly spreads his boyfriend open around him, his hands guide the ginger boy's legs around his waist. Envelop, entangle, ensnare... Idia groans with his head bowed over Cater as they join, dizzy with the thought that if they were any closer they might actually melt into one. His forehead settles against Cater's, his eyes slitted and dark, a drunken sort of smile on his lips.
"Mine...," he breathes. "All mine, my Cater...."
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And now, eating up every sound and every word that Idia speaks, Cater wants to steal his breath, too. He nuzzles their faces together where they connect at the forehead, tilting up so their noses press, and then their lips.
"All of me is yours to take," he murmurs before his tongue slides in and tangles their mouth together more fully. Cater's fingers caress against Idia's shoulder blades, gentle and loving.
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He kisses Cater until breathing through his nose isn’t enough, breaking away to rain kisses over the ginger’s cheeks, his jaw, his neck and shoulders. Hips roll, the slow push and pull drawing a desperate noise from Idia. He can feel the warmth of sunlight on his back from the window, the golden glow through his pink flames like strawberry lemonade.
“Cay… I’m all yours, Cay….” How can his heart be any more full than it already is? But he can feel the warmth growing, chasing away the cold, until he can almost forget he had ever been lost.
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The intercourse is secondary to everything else, just another piece of the puzzle that is this expression of gratitude and devotion toward one another. Cater kisses Idia just as much in return, lips dotting and sliding against his pale skin. Every little angle, to him, is perfect no matter how sharp or strange.
"I'm so in love with you," he murmurs, almost as if to himself--but it's an admission he's more than happy to share with his lover.
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He moves without reservation, knowing that no one will walk in to catch them, no curfew to dodge and no need to restrain any sound. A deep lunge pulls a loud groan from him, hands sliding under Cater's backside to squeeze, hold, lift. Closer, he wants to be closer even if it's physically impossible, his flames brightly wild with pink and red, curls of fire licking at the air in coils almost like looping hearts. Their mouths find each other again, sharing breath, tongues tangling. More, more, more, he's selfish and greedy but it's okay because they both are, for each other.