armwriostle | peacockstop Overflow

[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.]

[ Even as his hand becomes coated in Wriothesley's release, Broca's wrist keeps moving as he works the man through his orgasm, waiting until he seems to run on empty before letting go of his cock.

There's no stopping or slowing down, however, one of them may have finished, but the other is still chasing after his pleasure right now. Broca's messing hand curls around Wriothesley's hip, holding him firmly as Broca continues to fuck into him with forceful, jerky movements as his breathing gets heavier.

He's never been much of a talker during sex, and even the soft moans that fall off of his lips are quiet, probably not something anyone is going to hear outside of the man underneath him. Still, by Broca's standards he's making one hell of a racket as he chases his own climax, chest heaving as he finally, with one particularly rough movement, spills inside of Wriothesley. His breath stutters as he keeps rolling his hips, slower and mindlessly, for several seconds after before finally stilling.

It takes a few more seconds before he pries his fingers off of Wriothesley's hip and presses his palm against the sheets under them. ]

[He buries his hands into the sheets, writhing as the other continues to thrust into him relentlessly. His body feels like it's on fire, but he tries to roll his hips with the thrusts, more than happy for the other to chase their pleasure.

He's shameless in his moans and whines, toes curling as he feels the other fill them with his hot seed. He feels so full. Oversensitive, and yet still happily taking it all. His body shudders as Broca rides out their orgasm, both of them finally able to catch their breath.] H-Hah...

[ Well, they'll both certainly get their payouts after a performance like that, assuming they're being monitored. Without assigned ranks yet, there's no notification that appears on Broca's watch telling him he's collected another card, though that will come in time once he's finally permanently assigned to the room he already woke up in.

For now he'll take whatever they get for playing along with this particular game, though...

Maybe he'll give it a few moments so both of them can catch their breath.

He's careful as he maneuvers first out of and then off of Wriothesley, breathing heavily himself, though quieter as he pushes himself back onto his knees to give the man under him a little space.

Both of them look a mess right now, though Wriothesley definitely has one up on him on that department, and Broca makes no attempt at being subtle as he takes on the sight of Wriothesley's own come coating his stomach, as well as traces of Broca's seed inside of him. ]

You good?

[ He'll finally turn his attention to Wriothesley's face. ]

[Honestly? The payout is just a plus. The good sex is honestly the real treat.

The ache of muscles and getting a good sweat is everything he can ask for. He can still feel the pleasure that had been washing over his entirety linger, though the soreness of everything was starting to settle into his body. Adrenaline replacing a satisfying exhaustion and knowing that he'll likely be feeling their activities into the next day.

His eyes flutter open, gaze still somewhat hazy as he looks at the other, before he smiles and closes his eyes again. A tired little chuckle before he speaks.] Better than good. Give me a second though. [His voice was hoarse and scratchy, but there's contentment in his tone.]

How about you? Did you enjoy it? [Eyes finally open again as he tilts his head to look at the other. He's more used to pleasantries being cut short and moving on quickly, but it seems Broca is lingering a little longer before he gets his own bearings.]

[ It wouldn't be unusual for Broca to get up and start getting dressed after a quick fuck, but he figures the decent thing to do is make sure that Wriothesley seems ready for him to do that first. There's no question in his mind of if it was enjoyed or not, but given the fairly impressive reactions he managed to pull out of the other man, and the way he still looks a little fucked out, Broca can manage some poor imitation of aftercare for at least a couple of minutes.

The question catches him off guard though, and he blinks owlishly down at Wriothesley. The fact that his come is painting his insides right now seems indication enough to Broca that the sex was enjoyed. This is a tricky one to answer, because while Broca's fine with actions, he's not always the best with really hammering home his thoughts with words. ]

Yeah. It...

[ Broca's struggling here, not being much for dirty talk, especially not after the deed is done. ]

I liked it.

[ His own eyes close at that, nose wrinkling as even he is aware how pathetic that attempt at praising Wriothesley's performance was. He's so not cut out for praise kink...

Honestly, people should be allowed to just give a silent thumbs up and a nod when asked to rate sex. ]

[His reply just earns hoarse laughter from the boxer. He seems to be fine with just laying there for a little bit, knowing that the ache will really settle in and having to clean himself out is just over the horizon. For now though, he'll be a little lazy.]

There's no need to think too much on it. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself. That's all. [It's not about being praised or dirty talk. It's a genuine interest that Broca was just as satisfied.

He smiles a little.] You don't have to stick around any longer. I'll be fine. [As though he's sensing the bit of awkwardness. He is charmed the other is checking on him, but this was probably a one night stand at best, so there's no need for Broca to worry about him.]

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broca - 2024-06-25 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

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armwriostle - 2024-06-30 04:54 (UTC) - Expand

peacockstop Overflow

Sorry for the delay. RL got super hectic.

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