Spitfires. The greatest planes ever Build.

Charles’ first reaction is another kiss to Nezumi’s neck, his teeth and tongue pry at Nezumi’s skin, pull and suck to leave a mark that Nezumi wouldn’t usually appreciate but lets it slide … because it’s Charles. And because he is so breathless from his own confession and the sensation, that he doesn’t trust himself with the firmness of his voice.

When he cannot be confident, he rather says nothing.

People don’t always like to see it—the human behind the mask of arrogance. Nezumi is brash and self-assured; he is a man of easy poise, grand gestures and witty remarks. That is how he presents himself and that is how other people see him as well. It’s comfortable for them to accept him as such, then be the vulnerable ones in his presence. He doesn’t understand how they do it but he doesn’t mind. It is easy. It is safe.

What these people don’t like to see is when Nezumi shows a softer, more vulnerable side. He seems to lose value as the mysterious man that everyone idolizes him into. And so he doesn’t show it. Because of that and because he has found safety behind the mask of impudence.

Not to say he isn’t confident in his abilities and looks but that’s a whole other, complicated, story.

Nezumi’s breath shudders and he licks his lips, blood boiling when Charles tells him that he thinks his kinks are hot. Nezumi wouldn’t boast about it usually, they aren’t kinks so to speak, he sees them as weaknesses, as something that can open his heart. Sometimes they scare him but he trusts Charles, and the fact that he can grab his clothes and leave at any moment helps to ease him.

You don’t ever have to see him again if you don’t want to. He tells himself at the same time as he replies: “—be careful. I know where you live. I could show up on your doorstep at any time.” Secretly, he likes the knowledge that Charles plans for the future. Perhaps for another hook-up or whatever last night was. Nezumi has enjoyed himself and he doesn’t like to put labels on things, he takes them as they come and if Charles wants to invite him over again, he won’t say no. In fact, he is more than ready for a very clear ‘yes.’

Charles’ fingers skip over Nezumi’s skin, his sides and hips, and Nezumi twitches and tenses, his mind fuzzy with the sensation as Charles admits his own dirty secrets. They are perfect and the words bring a little smile on Nezumi’s lips. He finds Charles’ hands and wraps his fingers gently around Charles’ wrists.

“I think you’ve found the worst person to tell these things to,” Nezumi purrs, voice low and dangerous, and slowly pulls Charles’ hands off of his body. It comes easily and even though he misses the sensation of Charles’ touches, he much prefers to stay in control. Charles takes that away from him sometimes, not by trying, just by listening and doing what Nezumi likes; and Nezumi isn’t sure if he’s ready for that.

If given a choice, Nezumi will always choose to keep face because losing himself is scary.

“You have to understand,” Nezumi whispers and pushes against Charles, backing him against the other side of the shower stall. The water is still running and they have done nothing to actually wash their skin but they both prefer to ignore that. “That I am a very bossy man—especially in bed. If you tell me you like it … well,” he chuckles, crude and vulgar as he finishes: “Then I’m afraid you won’t be able to do anything in bed without my explicit permission.”

Nezumi uses his height to tower over Charles, to show dominance despite blushing only a moment ago. This is more his cup of tea—confidence and control. He likes this and the devilish smile on his lips shows it. He leans in, his lips tickle Charles but he doesn’t kiss him. He speaks instead: “How far are you willing to go, Charlie?”

    SPITFIRE— NEZUMI SEEMED TO THINK THAT telling Charles that he knows where he lives is some kind of threat, when in reality it sounded much more like a hopeful promise to Charles. Something he wished to happen, but couldn’t outright admit. Like Nezumi, he was far too weary of others to say such a thing aloud--- although the fact that he didn’t straight up tell him ‘no’ alone was its own kind of admission. After all, real one night stands would never be allowed back inside once they left.

Instead, he focusses on the rest of their words, focus intent on them as they take his wrists and slowly pull them away from themselves, leaving Charles craving to lean in and kiss him, the slight contact on his wrists hardly enough to satisfy his desire. “Perhaps--” He offers, not yet knowing to deny those kinds of claims, not familiar enough with Nezumi to tell him so for certain without it being a little bit of a white lie, --”But I haven’t seen a reason yet why I shouldn’t tell you so.” 

His flushed skin’s contact with the cold tiles causes a shiver to run through him, faint goosebumps appearing on his skin as he lets out a slight gasp, one which was attempted to hide with a simple bite to his lowerlip. But the excitement that their words alone bring him is impossible to hide, hardening as he seems embarassed by his own show of the truth before he could even answer aloud. 

Charles hardly even cares about the waste of water-- paying bills had become an obsolete problem, so he wasn’t going to stop them, especially not now. Instead, he can’t manage to look away from Nezumi as he uses his height to tower over him, although Charles knows well that the other doesn’t need to do so-- having first hand experience that they could be plenty demanding and confident without it. (The memory of being tugged down their hardness flashes in his head, phantom sensation on his tongue).

RED : Declaration album … sentence starters

RED : Declaration album … sentence starters

RED : Declaration album … sentence starters

Charles’ lips are soft, softer than Nezumi has ever felt before. Nezumi prides himself on his control, prides himself on being able to hold his feelings and desires on a tight leash and never letting them slip far enough to become a nuisance or a weakness. He wields them; much like he does with his looks, his words and everything else in his life. His expressions are a dancer’s performance … but this dancer has just stumbled. And Charles’ lips are still soft …

“Touche,” Nezumi whispers with a laughter at the tip of his tongue. “I like it when I know what my lovers enjoy,” he admits, eyes turning up as Charles slides his lips over the slope of Nezumi’s throat. He tenses in Charles’ embrace, receiving the attention with much less grace than Charles is—or at least that’s how it feels to him when Charles kisses his neck and Nezumi feels his stomach turn into jelly. He leans back to give Charles space and bites back a moan.

Nezumi’s breath shivers and he grips onto Charles’ shoulders but Charles stops and throws in a question, and Nezumi looks at him and the ever-present confidence is cracked by a blush that creeps into his cheeks.

“ … I was asking, yes,” he says at first to buy himself some time. There haven’t been many people who asked or dared to ask, not many people who could get to him like Charles does. ( Dangerous. Nezumi thinks briefly before his mind drifts back to Charles’ question. ) What does he like?

There are a lot of things that Nezumi can name from the top of his head. He likes to dress up, he likes to be watched and he likes to be admired—just like any egoistical man. But those are things that Charles already knows and Nezumi feels like he should give him something more personal, like Charles has given to him.

Honesty for honesty.

Nezumi licks his lips, eyes avoiding Charles’ mismatched ones as he contemplates, a sheepish smile on his lips before he clears his throat and slowly, very slowly confesses: “—I … my skin … it’s sensitive. So—I like—I like being tickled.” His heart drums so hard Charles must feel it against his own chest.

      SPITFIRE— HE ENJOYS THE FLUSTERED EXPRESSION on Nezumi’s features, even though he usually isn’t the type to go for that kind of stuff. But somehow it made the other more endearing than they had already proven themselves to be. The answer he is given only receives a bare minimum of surprise, since he could associate, up to a point, with the concept. He could imagine someone being similarly sensitive as he was, and the images that came from the idea were far from displeasing-- Knowing he could do to them what they could to him positively thrilling. 

Fingers run over their sides as he hums, leaning in and tugging them closer as he presses a kiss to their neck again, only to let lips part and suck a mark there. Fingers fan apart, letting hands explore the thin frame they possessed. “That sounds hot, to be honest.” He whispers, the smouldering look aimed at their features proving his honesty. “I would like to learn more about that, if we get the time to.” Knowing how to pleasure his partner was, perhaps, one of his greatest joys by nature. He liked being able to bring pleasure to them, and in return received pleasure from the act. Not that he could say that aloud, for he hadn’t even fully realized this himself-- the fact he has hardly ever had a single partner making exploring his own sexuality complicated.

He swallows quietly, knowing that since Nezumi had fairly answered, there was little he could do but answer their question too. Especially when their heart had raced so much during their proclamation-- fearful of his judgement just like he was of theirs now. “I enjoy being restrained. Either being told... I can’t do or touch something.. Or by physically being kept from doing something.” He admits, and like Nezumi he seems flustered by the admittance, trying to remove the attention on his words by instead laving the attention onto them.

Charles sticks his tongue out and Nezumi is pretty sure that he is the only man on Earth who could actually pull off looking cute—a grown man sticking out his tongue never looks good or sexy or anything, really. But Charles defies all expectations and Nezumi feels a chuckle bubble in his chest and grins back at him.

“It’s certainly not my fault that your mouth is a place of worship,” Nezumi retorts but it’s half-hearted and swallowed by another laugh when Charles pushes him against the wall.

Their bodies slide against each other, skin on skin, and Nezumi can tell that they could both use some soap because they are both sticky but the sensation of Charles’ bare flesh against his own is too pleasant in the moment. Even flaccid as they are, it’s still better than with most people.

Nezumi has had hook-ups when he knew that he wanted to have sex but it was the kind where his body wanted relief and he used the other body to do so, sometimes forcing the attraction a little to help himself get off. With Charles, it just happens, they slide together and Charles body presses against his and Nezumi could feel his libido responding. He gropes for Charles’ shouders and arms, moulds his muscles and tests their firmness.

“Yes, so we both agree that we’re gorgeous,” Nezumi decides and runs his fingers through Charles’ hair, digging his nails in just enough to make it pleasant. “You should have never told me your weak spots, sir,” he snickers, squeezing Charles’ butt as his fingers continue to thread through Charles’ wet locks.

Nezumi leans in and lets their lips touch. A kiss that is soft at first, lips playfully nibbling at Charles’ before he gradually deepens it. He rolls his tongue in, finding Charles’ and tasting himself on it. Right. This would have been the time to return the wonderful blow-job … only Charles’ has taken care of that already.

“What else do you like? Tell me,” Nezumi whispers into the kiss, his voice barely louder than the rushing stream of water.

      SPITFIRE— IT WAS ALMOST TO BE EXPECTED that Charles looks at Nezumi with a sense of surprise and the feeling of being somewhat taken aback after having his mouth be called a place of worship. He had never heard that from anyone’s lips. 

Secretly (for Charles would be so very unlikely to utter it aloud) he enjoyed the contact from skin to skin, even if there hadn’t been any sexual intentions in it. It was a closeness he didn’t get to feel often-- most partners leaving the house either as soon as they were done or when the morning showed itself. But being figuratively blind as he was, he failed to see that Nezumi was enjoying it as well albeit in his own way. 

He lets Nezumi touch wherever he likes, a light tilt to his lips showing an amused smile, tilting his head back a little to show his enjoyment of Nezumi’s fingers running through his hair, a snicker coming from deep down as he looks back at Nezumi. “Maybe I did it intentionally, so you’d pay more attention to them.” He offers before moving to return the kiss. The honesty of his admisison showing through the unintended sound that slips past his lips as tongue is let in. It is nigh impossible to ignore as skin heats under Nezumi’s hands, his own eager to squeeze at Nezumi’s waist and slipping behind him to trace along their spine with careful hands. 

           SPITFIRE— HE HUFFS A CHUCKLE, amusement vivid in his eyes as he lets blond eyelashes fan down onto cheeks, trying to hide a sense of flush that he can’t help but feel at the compliment.  “They came with the sun.” He admits, as he knows they only showed once he had forcefully exposed his skin to the sun to the point of burning it to darker tones. 

Charles didn’t think that it was something worth mentioning, Nezumi almost laughed at that sentiment. He could understand why Charles would think that and could see where he was coming from; he was used to it and most lovers may not care. But Nezumi did, in his own selfish way where the sense of power that he gained from it turner him on, and he was glad that he could prove it to Charles as well.

A man like him deserved good things in his life. Another sentiment that Nezumi wasn’t often prone to.

The small laugh that Charles gave was laced with bitterness and something sad and Nezumi felt as if, for a split of a second, he got to see a very intimate and private part of him. More so than the sight of Charles on his knees with a dick in his mouth. He was just glad that his kiss was accepted and his help received without any hurt to Charles’ pride.

“I’d rather beg the question: Why go at all if I’m going alone?” Nezumi smiled and slid his fingers along Charles’. He laced them and held his hand as he tugged him towards the bathroom, only letting his hand go when he reached for the hem of Charles’ underwear and slid it off his hips.

“You’ve made a mess,” Nezumi chuckled, affectionately running his hands along Charles’ hips and back as he pressed their chests and had them awkwardly stumble into the shower stall. Not a smart move since the water didn’t run hot immediately. Nezumi hissed, laughed and clung to Charles for warmth.

“Fuck I hate this … Come on, get warm,” he complained at the stream and relaxed only when the small cube filled with steam. He flashed Charles a smirk: “Hope you like your shower just as scalding hot as you are.”

Fuck; he should let the man fuck him again!

        SPITFIRE— CHARLES WATCHES AS THEY NEAR, their hand carefully touching his own and slipping into his grasp carefully while posing such a teasingly truthful question that he could not possibly resist a half-smile appearing on his features, amusement so clearly evident on his face. “Fair enough.” He squeezes their hand a bit before letting it slip free again, following them without much coaxing to the bathroom-- he was just as eager to be in their company as the other way around, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud.

“Whose fault do you think that is--” He starts, showing no shyness as he’s stripped of his underwear. Quick to follow them into the stream and running fingers over their chest for a moment before letting thumbs dig into their hips playfully. ---”Tugging my hair like that and pushing all the way in is like pressing the magic make-a-mess button.” He chuckles deeply, sticking out his tongue a bit in a playful manner.

There were very few men that Nezumi had met in his life who could give oral pleasure with the same grace as Charles did; without any shame to feel the pleasure of someone’s erection sliding over their lips, into their mouth and, at times, down their throat. Charles was … a special kind of person, with his innate ability to make Nezumi’s hips twitch in search for more friction.

Nezumi didn’t want to thrust too far, knowing full well that when caught unprepared, a dick in the back of his throat was no fun—no fun for him, but Charles seemed to revel in the sensation. Nezumi had never seen anything like this and the sight of Charles receiving similar, if not the same, pleasure, was what eventually sent Nezumi over the edge.

He pressed his sole against Charles’ dick, hard and warm under his pants, and felt the pulse in it … was he?

Nezumi didn’t have long to entertain the thought as his own climax hit him—and it hit him hard. His nails dug into Charles’ hands, into his scalp. He tugged on Charles’ hair, perhaps too rough but at that one rare moment, he lost control over his own body. His knee slacked and he held himself up with just the wall behind, supporting him when his foot pressed down against Charles’ and he felt both the throb in his cock as well as the wetness against his sole.

“ … fuck,” Nezumi exhaled when he came down from his height. He ran his fingers through Charles’ hair, gently now, almost apologetically, while Charles pulled away and wiped his mouth.

“You came …” Nezumi gazed down at the mess in Charles’ underwear and felt a whole new surge of lust. If only he knew that Charles’ could do this, he would have taken full advantage.

Nezumi bent down and gripped Charles’ chin, lifting his face and sliding a thumb between his swollen lips. “You’re so fucking hot. I didn’t know you can come from a cock in your mouth—such a dirty little secret you kept.” He leaned in, smirking against the messy kiss that he placed on Charles’ lips, tongue and fingers meshing into it.

He moved away with a lewd plop and licked his lips, tasting himself, then offered a hand—or the whole arm if needed—to help Charles stand up again.

“I feel like we’re gonna have a lot of fun together,” Nezumi grinned, an expression of mischief and tease, “—but first I think you deserve a shower, hn?”

          SPITFIRE— CHARLES HAD NO IDEA THAT Nezumi enjoyed seeing him like this so much, as it was generally treated as something common, something that should be expected with the amount of pride they kept having in their erections. Instead, he let blissed-out, yet slightly frayed mind take joy in the soft touches they gave him. Fingers running through soft hair and it feels like a kind of comfort he hasn’t had in quite a while.

He blinks, surprised, up at Nezumi’s mutter of surprise, before cheeks flush as the surprise that Nezumi felt seems to dawn on him. Feeling their slender hand grab onto his jaw, he stills, not struggling--- perhaps even somewhat intentionally casting eyes up as he slowly blinks and lets tongue seek out their thumb eagerly; The filling of his mouth almost instinctively answered with a slight suck, as well as a rush of saliva. As they lean in for a kiss, Charles eagerly accepts—Mouth sensitive still and any attention given to it classed as good attention, as he doesn’t care for the way that he feels the mess drip over his chin, barely restraining himself from starting to follow after them to extend it.

“… I didn’t think it was something to be mentioned.” He answers, softly, voice slightly hoarse from the earlier exercise. “Most people don’t even really notice.” He shows half a laugh, but it is mainly meant to hide the way he was flattered that Nezumi took enough notice of him to realize what had happened. Especially when one considers how it could have gone, and had gone, many times before him.

But, he takes their hand, pulling himself to his feet with a slight wobble—the familiar feeling of weak-kneedness causing him to take a moment to seek out his balance again, orgasm having thrown it to the side of the road.