It happens when Rain is still fresh; when he's still wrapping his mind around what bodies can do and when the stretch of Mountain's cock is tinted with something a bit more than just pleasure.
It's not the first time they've been together. Not the second, or even the third, but it is the first time that Mountain laid the long line of his body against Rain's back when his thrusts became staggered, the first time he tried to get closer when he finished instead of pulling away to make some part of Rain's skin a canvas to splatter. When Mountain moans long and low into Rain's ear, the warmth of his body spreading into his spine, he stays exactly where he is. And Rain feels it in his cunt, the way Mountain's heat spills into him there, too, filling him up more than he thought he could carry.
He doesn't know how much there is, whether it's normal or a little or too much. It feels like too much; it spills out around Mountain's cock, leaking out of his hole and dripping drown. Rain knows because he can feel it sliding down his thigh.
But it feels good, to be used that way, to be stuffed beyond what he can hold. When Mountain finally pulls out, panting on his knees behind Rain to admire his work, Rain's fingers beat his to the drop spilling down. He catches it and flops onto his back, admiring the way the light casts through it and the way it coats his skin. It's thick. A bit sticky. Nothing Rain hasn't seen before.
The air feels heavy between them. A thought forms in Rain's sex-addled mind, and Mountain must feel it, because his gaze meets Rain's just in time to watch him bring those coated fingers to his mouth.
He licks them first, curious, letting the taste make its way to his tongue and settle. It's salty, musky, with maybe a ghost of sweet. Somehow, he thinks it tastes like Mountain. So he goes back.
Rain crooks his fingers to scoop up the line of cum running down his thigh and tastes that too— this time, he sucks it off his fingers. It's quicker that way.
He gasps when he touches himself, his fingers brushing his sensitive, still-stretched walls to reach the rest of the gift Mountain's given him. He licks it all, every last drop, cleaning himself until he realizes all at once that he misses the feeling of fullness he had only moments ago.
Mountain's eyes haven't left his fingers. Rain's not even sure he's blinked.
When Rain finally speaks, it's to state the very simple conclusion he's reached, and his voice comes out hoarse but steady:
"You need to give me more."
