armwriostle | peacockstop Overflow

[Instead of tugging Broca's undergarments down, he merely slips his hand passed the waistband to wrap his fingers around their length and gives the other a few firm strokes.

Gaulish. The word is foreign to him, but he can guess that there are some similarities with just a different name attached. He can work with that, he thinks. It just means that there is not so much of a gap between them that they have to work with.]

I can stick with just names. [He doesn't sound put off either way. With his own cock hard and laying against his stomach and his hand wrapped around Broca's, he certainly was not put off at all.]

[ Oh, well not exactly how Broca thought that one was going to go, though a touch isn't entirely surprising given the circumstances. There's still a sharp inhale from him as his head tilts forward at the abruptness, thrown for just a moment by the sensation of a warm hand wrapped around him.

Even his words come out just a little more strained now that Wriothesley is touching this particular part of him. ]

It doesn't matter to me.

[ It's a polite enough way to address strangers, and it's not as if the two of them really know each other despite the intimacy of the moment.

Though right now the intimacy seems pretty one sided, and even if that seems to work just fine for the man underneath him, it settles strangely for Broca. He settles a palm on Wriothesley's inner thigh, hesitating for a moment as his breath comes out in small, audible huffs with each new stroke. ]

How did you want to do this?

[ There wasn't a lot of talk about what they were planning, just falling into things as they went along. ]

[He slowly strokes the other, thumb rubbing over the slit on the head as he admired the other. He enjoyed hearing the strain in Broca's voice and the quiet noises they were making. Broca's reactions might be subdued, but they might as well be full blown reactions given the man he was touching.

He gives the other a pleased little smile, his eyes glancing away from Broca's face to look at the hand on his thigh.]

Hm. Do you have any preferences? You'll find that I'm easy enough with just about anything as long as we're both enjoying ourselves. [He doesn't let go of Broca's cock, while he starts tugging down their underwear.] Being held by you seems to be just exciting as holding you.

[ It feels like he's being teased here, even as Wriothesley tries to talk in pretty words and euphemistic language. The thumb trailing across the head of his cock is as maddening as the languid strokes down the length. Broca never thought of himself as a particularly impatient person, but he's starting to think that he might just be given how much he's struggling with letting himself be savored right now.

One ear cants down as he looks down thoughtfully at Wriothesley, breathing heavily through his nose as the muscles in his stomach tense in want and anticipation, even if it seems like things won't be ramping up just yet.

And if it's going to be that way...

Broca quickly runs his hand the rest of the way up Wriothesley's thigh, hand sliding under the man's ass, and fingers digging into the muscle there. ]

Holding isn't really the word I'd use, but sure. I'll do that then.

[ He really might lose what patience he has if he allows Wriothesley to set the pace by being the one to do the 'holding'. ]

They got anything in this room to make it easier?

[ He finally tears his eyes away from Wriothesley's body to look at the bed and nearby table. He doesn't want to get back up, so hopefully there are things within reach. ]

[Maybe Wriothesley was just playing with his food a little too much. Something he's just a little aware of, but he can't help but be curious about getting all sorts of reactions from the other. And there's something just a little fun in seeing someone who seems to be so calm and collected to finally snap and take what they want. Or at least urge him to do more than the lazy, languid strokes he was doing at the moment.

He chuckles instead.] What word would you use instead?

[He does pause for a moment and he glances over at the bedside tables on either side of the bed.]

They probably have the drawers fully stocked. This place seems intent to have things ready for anything we want to do. [He really should just get in the habit of keeping lube in his pockets if he ends up here long term. It just seems convenient at this point.

He tugs Broca's undergarments down fully, but he guesses this wasn't going anywhere if they didn't check the drawers for anything to help with preparation. It isn't like it wouldn't be possible, but he doesn't think that it would be enjoyable for either of them.] Honestly, you'll probably find what you need and a lot more. I don't think I've gone through a day where I didn't seemingly come upon a sex toy.

Fucking. Having sex. Whatever you want to call it.

[ Things more straight forward than the more metaphorical holding either way. Broca read plenty, and he enjoyed books that were heavy on the metaphorical, more poetic just as much if not more than the ones that were more straight forward in their prose.

But he himself was always going to speak in the most direct way possible.

Even if that very casual conversation was happening while a man he's kneeling on top of happens to be working his underwear off of him. A task always made a little harder by the addition of a tail, but at least he's letting that droop and be cooperative with Wriothesley's efforts, moving his legs as needed as well, all while he takes advantage of his long limbs to barely lean forward before he starts rummaging through a very well stocked drawer.

Figures... ]

A little moderation wouldn't hurt people here.

[ Ironic given their current situation, but Broca does pull his hand back out holding a small pump bottle of lube, not giving anything else in the draw a second glance as he squirts out a couple dollops of lube directly into his palm as he moves back into position. ]

[That just gets a little chuckle in response, not particularly bothered. It isn't like he won't say stuff more bluntly at times himself. He just finds the other being to the point a little amusing. It is charming in its own way though.

He drops Broca's underwear to the floor, fingers gliding over muscled abs admiring as the other rummages through the drawer for lube. He was going to admire a good body that's sitting right in front of him. He isn't some saint.]

Considering the entire event happening, I don't know if they know the meaning of the word at all. I could do with enjoying a cup of tea without seeing some sex imagery though. [He can honestly agree with the other there. He isn't opposed to sex at all, but he doesn't need it shoved down his throat every literal second.

But that's something to chew on another time. It also seems a bit silly to complain about when they're about to have sex together. He easily spreads his legs for the other, not at all shy nor nervous.] Well, there are other things I rather enjoy at the moment.

[ A saint probably wouldn't have picked Broca out from a lineup to have sex with in the first place, so it doesn't surprise him to feel Wriothesley's hands roaming over him, though expected or not, the muscle his fingers glide over reflexively contract at the ticklish touch.

As he moves back into his kneeling position over Wriothesley, Broca spares him a (somewhat less) quick (than it could be) look as he rubs the lube over his fingers, snorting at both the comment about tea and the continued flirting. It might be because Broca's never been much of a flirt (a nice way of saying he could flirt if his life depended on it), but he doesn't get the point when Wriothesley's already managed to get Broca in bed with him. That he's being paid a compliment is having some trouble getting through that thick skull of his. ]

I've seen the cafes around here.

[ Such a casual tone and casual conversation they're carrying on even as Broca moves to press the tip of two fingers against Wriothesley's entrance. There's no questioning if he's ready for it, or verbal warning about what he's about to do. It seems pointless, and it's not like the man under him isn't aware, so he keeps talking casually about the possibility of tea without sex iconography everywhere-- ]

So don't get your hopes up.

[ --While slowly pushing both fingers into Wriothesley. There's at least some minor effort being paid to comfort as Broca's gaze drops down to Wriothesley's face, and he doesn't rush his movements. ]

[Broca please...surely the other has been complimented outside of bed. It's the same concept!!! But hey, the other being as they are is endearing in its own way. A little amusing and he finds it kind of cute (other people think it's cute, right?).]

I guess we'll get desensitized enough to it then.

[It doesn't really bother him. It's just over the top.

That's neither here nor there though because he finds whatever words on the tip of his tongue end up more caught in his throat as he feels the sting of Broca pressing two fingers into him. There's no real discomfort from the boxer though as he arches his back with a pleased moan.]

[ Does being told you look intimidating count as a compliment? Because if so, Broca has definitely been complimented before. Actually, a friend did once describe his arms as being like rocks, and that's probably a compliment (maybe). It's not something that gets lobbed Broca's way all that often, so Wriothesley's generous use of them isn't something he really knows how to properly react to.

Just like he doesn't know how to react to the gratuitous amounts of SEX shoved in his face every second of every moment of every day that he's been here so far. ]

Maybe, or maybe not.

[ Kind of a funny thing to be talking about whether or not he'll get used to it all when he's currently his second knuckle deep inside another man right now, working his fingers in carefully, before easing back out just as slowly. His tone is still casual and conversational, but there's something sharper and just a touch hungrier in his look now as he watches Wriothesley react to what he's doing. ]

[...Hm...

Well, Wriothesley will give the other compliments he feels the other should hear when his tongue is feeling loose enough for them. It isn't like he didn't give the other compliments he didn't mean. He definitely meant every single word spoken.

But he's thinking more about those fingers inside him as they start to work him open. He rolls his hips a little to take them a little farther in and there's a pleased sigh that escapes his lips. The hungry look in Broca's gaze is flattering in itself.] H-Hah...well I won't complain about this.

[ Superfluous compliments aren't necessarily lies, and even Broca understands that much. He hasn't considered for a moment that Wriothesley is lying to him about any of this to butter him up, because it seems like it'd be a lie with no benefit. The only reason to say these things is to spur Broca on to sleep with him, and if he really found Broca so unappealing as to need to lie about it, he probably wouldn't be trying to sleep with him at all.

Though Wriothesley's ability to keep up a coherent conversation despite a little pause or breathiness is fairly impressive. Broca's gaze rakes down the other man's body, all the way to where his fingers are currently inside of him, and as he pushes them in as far as he can this time, he crooks them forward. ]

Yeah, doesn't seem like you would.

[What can he say? He loves to multitask (no).

Wriothesley opens his mouth to retort back, but the push of fingers inside and the tips of them brushing against his prostate has him choking on his words. Instead comes out is a shameless moan as he tosses his head back, toes curling as he sees stars for a moment.] H-Hah! There! [Speaking of not complaining. His body was craving more if anything.]

[ Ah, so even this man has a coherency breaking point. There's nothing that Broca is really going to do with that information, but he guesses that means they can drop conversation for now if Wriothesley isn't going to be participating in it much.

He encouragement is met with a simple hummed out affirmation instead. Got it, right there it is then, his fingers move further in, but as the drag out he presses them up again roughly at the same spot, added pressure to get another big reaction out of him. It's easy to do now that he knows how to really get at Wriothesley, fingers still working him open, but offering a little reward for the other man letting Broca call the shots here despite their employee assigned designations. ]

[Broca's name slips from his lips easily like water flowing as pleasure goes through his body like electro-charges. It feels good, but it isn't enough. He wants more. His hands reaching out to lightly drag nails against Broca's well-defined thighs.]

More. I want more inside me. [It seems even Wriothesley's patient has its limit and he no longer cares to take it slow. He wants the feeling of being completely full. Wants the sting and ache.]

[ Patience has never been a particular virtue of Broca's, even if he's surprising good at sitting and waiting when he needs to. Long hours of playing silent bodyguard has forced the ability to endure long periods of tedium on him, but when it comes to things like this...

Well, he was the one pushing for something fast without a whole lot of savoring earlier, so when Wriothesley makes that demand the corner of Broca's mouth twitches for a moment. It's not a smile, not really, but it betrayed a hint of one for just a brief moment. ]

Needy.

[ There's no real judgement in the word as he says it, like he's just making a statement of fact as he pulls his fingers out at an unhurried pace, teasing some by letting himself savor Wriothesley in his desperation. Of course not voicing any hint of this thought out loud it's not exactly obvious what's happening in Broca's head right now, but he thinks he's being somewhat clever.

He rests his hand on the back of Wriothesley's thigh, pushing back on the leg to change the angle of his hips as he leans forward, lining the head of his cock up with Wriothesley's entrance as he slowly begins to push into him. Well... slowly at first, at any rate. There's only so long that Broca can play at being a tease before his own needs get the best of him, and there's a quick, forward snap of his hips after a moment as he fucks his way fully into Wriothesley, letting out a shuddering, pleased sigh at the feeling of something hot and tight wrapped around him like this. ]

You can't blame a guy. [His laugh is somewhat breathless. It's true though. His compliments on Broca's physique weren't empty words. The man was built so wonderfully, and having gotten to see them completely naked, who could really blame Wriothesley for wanting an intimate taste of what he sees.

He laments the loss of the fingers inside him, but he doesn't complain either. He was the one who had riled the other up into impatience earlier. It is only fitting that he might end up on the tail end of it in return. And that really only means that neither of them are willing to wait too much longer for what they really want.

Though, he isn't prepared for the way the other quickly snaps their hips forward, sheathing themselves completely in him. Wriothesley arches his back with a shameless moan, sounding more pleasured than pain as the other fills him with their cock. Hands bury into the sheets, gripping them tightly, and Wriothesley wraps his legs around Broca's hips. He makes it seem like he wants the other somehow deeper inside him despite already have pressed their entire length into him.] Ah! Yes!

[ Everything from the words that Wriothesley manages to choke out to the way his body races to meet him tells Broca more than enough. It doesn't matter that he got impatient himself, because that impatience is being met with the same sort of eagerness. No more teasing games, no more savoring.

One corner of his mouth curls up just the slightest bit, easy to miss normally, much less when the large man is fucking into someone with a complete lack of regard for how this might affect Wriothesley's gait immediately after this.

With Wriothesley keeping him locked into place with his legs, Broca can't pull out far, but he makes up for that with quicker, forceful thrusts into him, bearing down on the man under him, one hand steadying himself while the other reaches to wrap around Wriothesley's own cock now. For a moment he keeps his fist still as he tries to build a rhythm, focusing on one thing at a time before he starts to slide his hand, still slick with lube from his earlier work on Wriotheslye, up and down the length of his cock in time with the rocking of his own hips.

Keeping pace with his own movements was easier than trying to create two different speeds, even if the idea of teasing by keeping his hand movements slow (compromising savoring and rushing) has some appeal. He just doesn't have the kind of focus to pull it off. ]

[It might be a small little thing, missed by others, but Wriothesley has always had a discerning eye. That slight upturn of lips might as well be a beam from the stoic man. It's enough to make a grin on the boxer's lips blossom.

And if there is any worry about whether or not he cares about his lower back and ability to walk, it doesn't show with how Wriothesley rocks his hips in rhythm, meeting every thrust with the loud slap of skin. He feels the strength slowly leave his legs, letting them drop to Broca's sides; widening his stance as though to give the other plenty of room.

He writhes under Broca's touch, moans and breathless whispers for more. One hand fists the sheets underneath him while the other one finds the wrist of the hand wrapped around his leaking cock as though to ground him.]

[ There's a familiarity in this that acts as a strange comforting force for Broca. Being buried deep inside someone, his hips moving back and forth as he fucks his way into a building thoughtless stupor that will slowly help take him out of his own head, allowing him to escape thoughts of the past and future as the physical sensations of the moment ground him in the now.

He begins to narrow down on simple things like the fact that Wriothesley looks good like this, lost in the haze of lust, and gripping onto him like he doesn't know what he'd do if he let go. There are jolts of pleasure coursing through his body, starting from where he's buried inside of the man underneath him, but spreading out all the way from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head.

As reluctant as he was to start this whole thing on principle, it wasn't as though Broca disliked sex. The sensation was always something he enjoyed getting lost in, even if the circumstances had made him testy at first. The way Wriothesley reacts to his touch though... there is something intoxicating about that, and his hand moves faster, even if he maintains the same rhythm as he thrusts into Wriothesley. The dim awareness is starting to form that he wants to see this man completely come apart for him. ]

[Slowly coming apart he will. With every thrust, he finds the fog of his mind grows as he gets lost in the sensations and feeling of being split open by Broca.

A sharp intake of breath. A shuddering exhale. Shameless moans fill the room as he calls out Broca's name with want and a sweetness as though to entice the other to give more. His cock leaks precum, making the slide of fingers over his cock smoother. The glide making him groan with delight.]

Ah! Broca, more. [Wriothesley has long since tossed any sense of shame and he is not shy about his enjoyment. After all, if he wants and the other wants, then why not ask for more?]

[ More is hard to offer when he's already giving him so much. Though it might be more fair to say, more is dangerous to offer with how much he's already giving. More in Broca's case means something rougher and more aggressive, and while he's met plenty of people who have been happy to accept his more, Wriothesley doesn't exactly look like he's in a place for a detailed kink negotiation discussion.

Then again, neither is Broca.

The vague sense that there has to be a limit to what he gives flits through his hazy thoughts, but that's about all he can muster as he starts to fuck into Wriothesley with more force, harder and faster. It's enough to make the bed under them rock in a way that might be noisy if it weren't for the number of other sets performing similar acts around them likely drowning out their noises.

Broca's lips part, and his tongue runs over the point of an oversized canine. The urge is building to bury them into Wriothesley too. Instead he ducks his chin down to watch the head of Wriothesley's cock as slides obscenely out of the ring of fingers wrapped around it. His strokes are getting sloppier as his own attention is diverted to how it feels to have Wriothesley tight around him.

He's not likely to last much longer at this rate, no matter how much more Wriothesley wants from him. ]

[He is definitely not in the mental state to want to stop and go into thorough conversation about kinks. Not when Broca is deep inside him and fucking him thoroughly enough that the only thoughts lingering in his head is how good it felt, how he didn't want Broca to stop, and how much he wanted to be railed six ways to Sunday.

Honestly, Broca doesn't have to do anything different. He's too into the pleasure, his gaze hazy as he watches the other with pleased arousal. If there's something more than he enjoys than the pleasure itself, is seeing his partner also lost in the haze of their bodies entwining.

Broca is relentless though. The slap of skin as the other drills into him over and over as they jerk him off is a lot. Too much. Hands find Broca's shoulder and nails dig into the meat of them as he feels the pit of his stomach coil tight. He isn't going to last much longer.] Broca. Broca. I'm going to-

[ Wriothesley's earlier talk of wanting to savor and enjoy Broca fell flat with the man, but he's not entirely unable to understand the appeal of it in his own way. Maybe not for a slow and gentle tease that takes apart a person bit by bit, but there's something in the look on Wriothesley's face now that stirs something inside of him. The flushed skin and glassy eyes looks good on him, and while this was started as a means to make a little cash, if the offer came again for another chance at this man, Broca wouldn't say no.

The warning doesn't seem to deter him at all though, neither do the nails digging into the skin of his shoulder, though it does draw a small growl out of him as he leans forward towards Wriothesley. His hazy gaze sharpens as he hips snap harder, more forceful, and his hand begins to find the matching rhythm again as he continues to stroke Wriothesley's cock. ]

Then come.

[ It's permission being granted more than an intended order, but there's still a growl in his voice that makes it seem otherwise.

He really has done a bad job at playing the role of the pet in this one. ]

[It mattered not who was the master over who. What role either of them should be playing. From the start, he hadn't looked at Broca as a pet. His orders before could barely be called that. Merely easy requests to help settle the other in a situation that they obviously weren't keen on. Even if Broca had ultimately agreed for the sake of a payout, they obviously would not have enjoyed their time if it were with someone who only saw them as a pet to tame and own.

And he wanted this to be good for the both of them.

How can he not find it all so hot? The growl in Broca's voice and the words on their tongue. Order or permission granted, they're the same thing in his head. The allowance to let go.

He comes with a shout, back arching off the bed, seed spilling over Broca's hands and splattering onto their stomachs.]

peacockstop Overflow

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Sorry for the delay. RL got super hectic.

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