better not to breathe than to breathe the lie

"No, no," Maverick tsked, pressing his lips to Alder's neck and sucking his own mark into his skin. A response: you're mine, too, you know. Alder wasn't the only one who got to be jealous, possessive. "I've only just begun to show you." He gripped Alder's cock in his hand, not wanting or needing him to beg or ask for it. He wanted to give it willingly, easily.

"You say that," Maverick rasped, feeling Alder against his thigh, bringing his hand down to run a finger from the base to the tip of Alder's cock. "I have no idea what you mean. You're gorgeous, Alder Reid." He nipped at his jaw, hoping that Alder would believe him, would see how earnest he was. "What can I do..." His finger circled the tip. "To show you?"

"You've already shown me," he hummed, tilting his head to the side to bare his neck for Maverick's mouth, hoping to busy it again to sidestep more praise about... him. He didn't know how to handle it. His hips involuntarily bucked into Maverick's hand at his too-light, teasing touch, desperate for more attention as he gasped, "Fuck, Maverick."

He felt so fucking cared for, Alder's kiss in his hair and his grip holding him upright as he nearly buckled. As he leaned against him, breathing heavily in the aftermath, he thought, for a moment, that Alder would say he loved him. That this was what followed the I; something familiar from Alder's lips and yet not something he'd heard since the Arena. He craved it, and yet he was too afraid to be the one to say it. "Ah," he said, his breath hitching a bit, leaning his head against Alder's shoulder, "you just like me for my good looks?"

"Something like that," he agreed with a soft laugh, though it became a little strangled when Maverick's thigh brushed against him as he shifted, still hard, unattended to. He didn't mind, for now, because pulling Maverick down to earth in the aftermath of his own orgasm was pretty hot, but it wasn't going to last him forever. "Can't say it hurts, though I'm aware I'm way out of my league." He did wonder, sometimes, how this happened. Not that he was complaining that Maverick was gorgeous.

When Alder took him to the very edge, when he was nearly over the cliff and bursting into Alder's mouth, he pulled away -- and Mav allowed Alder's mouth to crash into his, moaning into it, half-protest. "Alder," he managed when Alder pulled away, pressed their foreheads together, looked at him closely, their eyes only inches apart, if that -- and on command, he let go, allowing himself to come with a gasp, the force of it surprising even him after the long day. He wouldn't have thought he had it in him, but he gripped Alder's shoulders and closed his eyes, rocking his body against Alder's as he finished.

Alder had been anticipating this, taking on some of Maverick's weight as he fell into him, pressing back into it, answering to the rest of the friction his body craved. He kissed his wet hair, savoring every shudder and gasp as he came with his name hanging from his lips. He tried to memorize the sound of it, commit it to memory. Nobody ever said his name in the same way Maverick did, and he wasn't sure how much life he had left to hear it, the way things were going. "I--" It was almost an I love you, but it was something they hadn't said since the Arena. Something he'd been afraid to say when war loomed and hearts could so easily be broken. Nearly had been, when Alder had been taken. It could have gone so many other ways, and he was afraid this was a doomed thing between them from the start. "You're fucking gorgeous," he murmured instead into Maverick's hair, bringing one hand to rest at the nape of his neck.

Maverick let his head fall back against the wall as he gasped, the pleasure flooding out everything else from his body. "Alder, fuck, you're so -- fucking good--" He groaned as Alder took him deeper and he ached to get Alder off too, but for the moment he allowed himself to be swallowed by it all, by Alder's mouth and how sinfully good this was, how good despite the fact that he didn't deserve it, the fact that he'd fucked up everything a thousand times over and yet they still ended up here. He could consider that evidence of a higher power, if he wanted to.

He waited until he was sure Maverick was close, watching him for the usual twitchiness, the pitching of his voice. He took it as far as he dared, then pulled back, rocking back onto his heels and scaling the wall to raise himself back to Maverick's level. Hungrily, he took his mouth in his, wrapped his hand around Mav's cock and braced his other against the wall. Water cascaded between them, hot and slick, and he wanted to feel Maverick on every inch of his skin for this. He pulled out of the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. Maverick's eyelashes framed his hooded eyes, dripping with water, his cheeks flushed red, he was breathing like he'd gone ten rounds with the Head Trainer. He was the most beautiful thing Alder had ever seen, and he was struck momentarily that Maverick, for some insane reason, had decided that when he could have had anyone in all of Panem, he'd let it be Alder. "Come for me," he breathed, wanting to watch as Maverick came totally undone.

He wasn't used to this Alder, nor was he used to talking this much during sex; but the day had drained him of the mental energy to hold his desire at arm's length, to censor himself, and so he said, "I told you, I want you to fuck me, Alder, I-- don't want anyone else, this whole fucking day has been agony, I just want you, right now, however you'll have me, it's like a fucking miracle you're here, I'm here, I want you to show me how alive you are, how alive I am--"

Maybe that's what he'd been looking for, because it did him in the rest of the way-- to be told he'd been missed, wanted, needed, that it wasn't a fucking waste he didn't die over and over when he probably should have, even if it was only for this and for nothing else. He picked up his speed, but kept it all intentional, rhythmic, removing his hand from Maverick's wrist to pin his hips back to the wall. Everything else-- the emotional drain of the day, the ache in his knees, the fucked up, cold world waiting for them beyond the locked door, faded out. His world became Maverick, his body, and making him feel too good to remember anything but Alder's mouth either.

Mav knew that he was getting a side of Alder that no one else got to see; that it was a privilege, that he was lucky as hell, and he felt every bit of it. The words surprised him, but he was willing to do what Alder asked, hell, he wanted to do it. Alder could surely feel how much he wanted that. "Fuck, Alder, please," he gasped, "show me how jealous you are, show me what you want."

He couldn't help the small, relieved grin that Maverick didn't shut him down. Emboldened, he then commanded, "Keep talking," before taking Maverick in his mouth again, deep this time. Hearing Maverick's voice, his name, low and gravelly with sex, seemed to strike something in his core, vibrating in tune with his body. His name-- only his. He pulled away, adding, "Tell me what you want," before taking him all the way down again.