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@splitmeopens
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Kissing a pretty boy while my hand slowly jerks him off so he can whine and moan into my mouth.
noah watches people. itโs another one of those things people are always commenting on. that the vaneks always have these wide lost looks in their eyes, like theyโre always waiting for something. noah never comments about why. thereโs always been a reason heโs careful, heโs always needed to be the smartest player in the room. hockey is a language that makes sense to him. thereโs not much else that ever has. but thisโ want and attention and needโ this makes sense to him too. he can see the way rory tries to hold himself together, like noah would ever let him keep himself from coming apart at the seams. heโs so starved for attention, and he knows rory must be too if heโs here. because locked closets in buildings full of nhl players donโt feel like a good idea unless the only other option is the wilt of loneliness. and if noah wants to keep his secrets to himself, those were the only option.
every sound stirs something low and proud within him. it travels through his blood stream, hot and desperate, and noah is sure that rory can see just what heโs doing to him. just because heโs all precision and control doesnโt mean that his body doesnโt betray him. he struggles against the friction in his pants, and his head swims with images of rory, bitten red lips parted around him, on his knees and needy. his head thumps against the door, and noah's free hand is quick to reach up into his hair. it's gentle in a way he often forgets he's capable of. "don't give yourself a concussion on my account." another wicked grin, but he's being nice and he knows it. every motion from noah pushes rory further, and every broken noise and arch of his back spurs noah on. it's hot and heavy and desperate โ exactly the way noah likes things to be. the arch of his spine, his hips rock, and the sound of it, breathless and wrecked, feels like music to his ears. "oh, yeah ??" pick up the pace then, vanek. "this isn't you having fun ??" his thumb traces for sensitivity, like he already knows exactly how to drive rory insane. because it's just his hands. it's not enough. rory needs more, and with enough surrender, noah will be happy to give it. to let everything disappear but them.
his gaze is focused and a little mean, as he watches the way rory strains against everything holding him back. his attitude, his composure, even his clothing. noah likes having that effect on him way more than he likes to let on. "i'd like to see you fucking try." his voice is roughened and dark, like watching rory unravel is undoing his composure. probably because it is. if he knew that this was sacred, that every touch pulled something from hidden depths within the other player, he might be a little more reverent. but who needs that, when he's too busy trying to take him apart, piece by piece ?? the goading lands like an invitation, and noahs hands are both in motion again. his grasp is slow, intentional and irritating wrapped into one. being grating in moments of desperation has always made it all just that much more delicious for him. and his hand keeps moving, rough from stick handling and grasp deliberate, as the other presses into the swell of his ass. grasping like his life depends on it. "wanna see just how needy you can get beaumont."
rory knows he should pull back, because a locked door in a building full of nhl players is the worst possible place to come undone, but noah looks at him and it ruins every piece of common sense he has. he watches like he's studying heat signatures: tracking every breath, twitch of muscle, and failed attempt rory makes at holding himself together. no one has ever looked at him like that. not like a joke to laugh off, a guy who chirps too loud, but like someone noah's been dying to get his hands on. it rattles him straight through his ribs. and when noah's eyes drop lower, following the way his breath stutters, his thighs tense, and need pulses right through him, rory swears he feels his knees go weak. the gentle drag of noah's hand through his hair nearly makes him fold; a low, broken sound rips out of his chest before he can swallow it down. he tries to grin at his warning about giving himself a concussion, because grinning is safe and it's armor,but it comes out ruined, a shaky little breath that betrays exactly how close he is to falling apart.
when noah presses in again, rory's body answers instantly and helplessly. his head tips back against the door, hips rolling toward the friction he told himself he wouldn't chase, a sharp, needy sound catching in his throat. the humiliation of how fast he gives in only winds him tighter, breath coming in short, uneven bursts he can't control. noah's thumb drags in a spot that's unbearably sensitive and rory's whole body jerks, a groan tearing out of him before he can grit his teeth. "shitโnoahโ" it falls apart in his mouth, broken and unsteady, and noah's hungry expression says he heard every ounce of it. rory's fingers slide to noahโs back, curling tight into the fabric like he needs something to hold onto, dragging him closer because distance is impossible now. "you call this fun?" he tries, but it's barely a whisper, barely anything at all when noah kisses the corner of his mouth and his whole spine arches like he's begging without meaning to. every slow, tormenting drag of noah's hands makes him tremble harder, with gasps spilling out of him in stuttering, humiliating rhythms he canโt hide.
and then noah drops his voice lower and says, wanna see just how needy you can get, beaumont, and rory actually shivers. his breath catches sharply, hips surging up against noah without thought, a helpless groan slipping free that he'd die before letting anyone else hear. he feels undone and completely hot all over, with his chest tight and pulse racing like panic and want tangled together, and he hates how good it feels to be touched like this, wanted like this, seen like this. "don'tโ" he tries, but his voice fractures, and he drags noah in by the hips like it's instinct, like he needs him closer just to breathe. "noahโfuckโkeep going," he pleads unsteadily, the word please burning the back of his throat no matter how hard he tries to swallow it. his mouth finds noah's jaw, his whole being desperate, with lips brushing skin he's not supposed to need. "you wanted needy?" he breathes, his voice shaking apart. "i'm right here. just don't stop."
noah struggles to hold himself together at the best of times. but having the opportunity to do something he actually wants, instead of standing around in obligation, snaps his restraint clean in half. of course it does. because he's like โ a golden boy. noah vanek. prodigy. little brother to one of the best players in the league. so of course he's all practiced smiles and white knuckled grips and practiced smiles and quick motions. rory might distract, but noah only ever seems to excel. he refuses to ever let himself be seen as anything but the perfect player. perhaps that was why he was both literally and figuratively in the closet right now.
he can feel the quaking of his pulse, and noah loves it. he leans in every time, he loves being able to pull reaction straight from him, like he crafted every sound in his own mind. that makes it easier to fall in, but harder to tread water. it's too bad he doesn't care. he'd drown in this if he had the option.
teeth bare low on rory's neck, digging into the soft skin often protected by a neck guard. his tongue sweeps across, as if to soothe the bite before it bruises. he's smart enough to know where the boundaries are. he's spent enough time hiding to be able to find all of the buttons he can push without being seen. and then rory's kissing him again, and he feels his composure cracking further. he's ravenous. he's desperate. he knows what he wants and has no intention of letting it slip through his fingers. the broken sound he makes could absolutely drive noah insane.
blue eyes, dark and depraved, focus on him. his hand pulls back, just for an instant, and his eyes sparkle with something like mischief when he spits in his palm. in an instant, he's back at it. like nothing has changed. "absolutely am, ro." he replies, smirk firmly planted on his face. he's delighting in all this chaos. it's something that he's not allowed to admit to, but noah has ALWAYS delighted in it. in the mess. and rory makes it so fucking easy for him to that he goes insane. everything is breathless and unsteady, and he can't believe that he's lucky enough to actually get exactly what he wants. everything he wants. "neither." a smug grin, "you're just needy." he chuckles, but there's no real bite to it. this is a game he likes to play. and he's sure he'll be on the opposite side soon enough, he likes the way that humiliation and want and desperation all coil around rory, all right there for him to see. to reach out for. to grasp.
his breath is hot against rory's skin, want ablaze in his own chest. it's all setting him off, every nerve a live wire. he can feel the way that rory's composure is crumbling in his hands, and he wants to drown in it. "no you shouldn't." he replies, all dimples and heat. "you're having too much fun." their lips brush, and he wants to make rory pay for that. so he moves slower. it's easier that way.
"i'd love to see you try." neither of them really mean any harm, and noah's far too busy trying to tear every bit of composure and every stuttering breath from rory's lips.
rory feels the shift in noah like a bodily blow; one moment he's the polished, impossible to crack prodigy everyone watches with expectation, and the next he's all sharp want and sure hands, moving with purpose like he's finally letting himself touch what heโs been starving for. it knocks rory off balance in a way nothing on the ice ever does. he tries to hold onto his grin, to keep his posture loose and cocky, unbothered, but the second noah's hands drag lower with intent, his breath hitches hard, and it's sharp enough to make his chest tighten. he hates the way it betrays him. hates even more the way noah hears it, how that faint flicker of wicked pleasure flashes in those blue eyes like rory's reaction was exactly what he'd been aiming for. and then noah's mouth finds his neck, teeth dragging where his gear usually shields him, and his fingers fist in the other's shirt, a low, rough grunt ripped out of him before he can bite it back. noah's tongue follows, soothing the bite he wants to leave, and the shiver it sends down rory's spine is so real he surges forward, crushing their mouths together to cover the sound he didn't mean to make.
noah pulls back with that dark, hungry look that's focused and delighted, like he's studying the exact moment roryโs composure gives, and rory feels heat crawl under his skin because he knows he's being transparent like this. his breathing's too quick, his pulse is thudding at his throat, and he keeps leaning in when he means to play it cool. then noah's palm returns, just slicker now, confident in a way that makes roryโs stomach flip, and the contact forces another helpless sound out of him, one that hits too close to a groan. his head thumps the door behind him, knees going loose for half a second, hips rocking into the pressure like his body had been waiting for it. humiliation flashes hot, because he's supposed to be the one who keeps control, the one who gets under people's skin, not the one unraveling behind a locked door. "you think this is me having fun?" he mutters, his voice rough and breathless, trying to catch onto attitude he no longer fully has a grip on. but then noah leans close again, his breath warm and biting at rory's throat, and rory's whole body answers him, with his shoulders dropping and spine arching as a quiet, broken exhale slips out that he'd never admit to if he could help it.
he drags noah closer by the collar, foreheads nearly colliding because space feels impossible, because noah calling him needy hits somewhere deep and dangerous. rory's fingers slide into his hair, tightening as if to anchor himself to something solid while everything inside him tilts off its axis. "keep talking like that," he breathes, the words brushing noah's mouth in a way that's half threat, half surrender, "and you'll find out exactly how fast you go under." noah slows the kiss deliberately, savoring, tormenting, and rory's answering sound is scraped raw from somewhere he never lets anyone touch โ half-groan, half-plea, helpless even as he tries to smirk through it. he pulls noah in tighter, eyes dark and blown wide, his smile crooked and fraying at the edges. "go on," he murmurs, daring and undone all at once, "push me again." his voice drops, weighted with a truth he can't hide no matter how hard he tries. "see just how needy i get for you, vanek."
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noah is ravenous. he always has been. behind practiced smiles and sure hands and laughter a second too late, there is this low, thrumming need to be satisfied. one that rory is always on the receiving end of in his fantasies. he'd take him up against this door if that was what it took to have this satisfaction that he's always chasing. the need blotted out. he doesn't acknowledge the way that rory's body betrays him sets him alight. he doesn't want to think about that what it means for them. rory doesn't want to admit to any of it, and noah doesn't need him to. he doesn't need to be promised forever, he needs to break RIGHT NOW in his hands, take it apart instant by instant, until he can hold stuttering breaths and heady movements and the taste of desire in his hands.
the feeling of hands in his hair pulls a moan straight out of him, one he doesn't bother to bite back. as far as he's concerned, noah has no interest in pulling anything back. not when he's been so composed, and so practiced for so long. let him lose himself, just for a moment. he nips at rory's neck, and despite how NOT CAREFUL he wants to be to suck bruises into expanses of pale skin, to move without consequence. but since they don't have that, he has to readjust. rory catches his lips in another desperate kiss, it's sharp in all the right ways. fingers flex into his hair, and it's enough to drive him insane. there's so much they're avoiding on the other side of that door, but noah's convinced that he can snuff all of it out of existence if he pulls enough noise from between rory's lips.
the laughter, breathless and foreign, feels right in every way. hips collide again, rocking into him just one more time, and hands slide down across expanses of muscle like can commit this to memory. as soon as rory starts talking, his left hand is reaching between rory's thighs, like he can claim everything right here, against this door, no questions asked. often enough makes him feel less crazy. but he wouldn't mind insanity at rory's hands. he wouldn't mind being taken apart like that. he doesn't say he wouldn't mind if rory had him begging either. it's so easy to want it all. and he wants it all with rory behind a locked door. "don't knock it off." he replies, wicked grin cracking across his face. "i want you thinking about me all the time." a beat, and he listens when rory talks, but if he's being HONEST, that's not why he asked. his hands don't fumble when he pulls on the button, where rory is all charisma and smiles and attitude, noah has always been precision and practice. so as soon as he starts talking, a hand slips beneath his waistband. he wants to hear the way that his breath stutters, he wants to watch him fall apart while he tries to talk. he wants rory yielding under his grip. he likes the attitude, he likes the gnashing teeth and the attention, heโs greedy and he wants it all. โcanโt flinch,โ he murmurs against the heat of roryโs skin. โthen iโd have to look away,โ a pause, motion fills the space, โand i like staring too much.โ their lips collide, and noah is claiming what he wants. heโs not making excuses anymore. โwanna watch you prove it, ro.โ itโs not like he hasnโt noticed the way heat climbs across his chest every time he says the nickname. itโs obvious. sue him for paying attention! but it all feels delicious in a way he canโt describe. so he hopes heโs doing a good job proving it.
rory clocks the change in noah the instant those hands start traveling, for they're slow, sure, and practiced in a way that should piss him off but instead sends a hot shock down his spine he can't hide. he tries. god, he tries. the grin comes up automatically, that practiced, shit eating tilt of his mouth he uses to cover anything too real, but the second noah's touch dips lower, his breath betrays him with a sharp, involuntary hitch. it's humiliating. exhilarating. it's exactly the kind of thing noah will notice because of course he does, as noah pays attention like he's been starving for someone to look back at him. rory's fingers tighten in his hair, not to stop him, but because noah is too close and rory refuses to let him pull away from the mess heโs making.
he hates how good it feels. he hates how fast his pulse trips under noah's hand. he hates the low, broken noise that leaks out when noah's mouth finds his throat again, so he swallows it by kissing him harder and rougher, biting back like he can force the upper hand through sheer attitude. it works for a second, until noah crowds even closer, and rory realizes he's the one bracing against the door like he needs something solid behind him.
noah says nothing, yet does everything, and rory feels every careful, claiming sweep of his hands. he should shove him. chirp him. do anything except melt the way he is now, with hips pulling noah closer like instinct, chest rising too fast, and heart slamming against his ribs like it's trying to give him away. and noah wants all of it; that's what makes rory's head spin. noah's want is loud as hell, even behind locked doors.
rory drags him in by the back of his neck, foreheads almost touching, trying to smirk through the way his breath keeps stuttering. "you're doing that on purpose," he mutters, voice gruff, trying to sound smug and hitting breathless instead. "don't think i don't notice you aiming for the good spots." his grin tilts sharper, wicked and unsteady. "you practicing on mannequins or am i just naturally this inspiring?"
the answer is another grazing touch, lower than last time, and rory's hand slaps the door behind him like he needs something to hold onto. humiliation and heat twist together in his gut. he tips his head back, just a little, giving noah more of his throat because he's a disaster and can't help himself. "i should tell you to stop," he breathes, "just so i can watch your face fall." a beat, full of smugness he doesn't feel, and then a quiet, breaking exhale when noah's fingers push him right up to the edge of restraint. "but i'm not looking away."
his free hand slides to noahโs jaw, thumb brushing his lip with a lazy, taunting drag. "you wanted me thinking about you?" his smile turns downright unruly. "congratulations. i'm already annoyed with how well it's working." he leans in, lips brushing noah's without giving him the full kiss. "and don't get cocky. i can still drag you down with me."
continued for @splitmeopens from here !
noah has never really known how to say what he wants. how to claim it. losing yourself behind locked doors is something taught early and often. but when the door clicks shut, noah lets his guard drop and suddenly he's actually allowing himself to be ravenous. he's allowed to want when no one is looking. and god, he wants rory. he wants him yielding under his grip and and wanton, desperation bleeding out of every pore. he wants every thing he's imagined with a hand wrapped around himself and boiling water pounding into his back. everything he pictures when he can't sleep. rory pulls. that matters. he pulls noah's hips flush to him, and noah takes it as an invitation. of course he does. if rory wants to press every complication out of his body, every fearful thought and broken glance, he can absolutely try. noah won't stop him.
noah rocks his hips against rory's, like he's never been hungrier for this than he is right now. lips meet the smooth expanse of his neck, and his teeth rake across rory's neck like consumption. a beat, a noise that hits like desire. he's always wanted this, he's just never been able to take it. rory's comments land like mines, but and they burst against the inside of his ribcage. he wants this. he wants loud and rough and needy, but he's settling right now. he has to. because there's a million people on the other side of that door who can't know that this is what they're getting up to. "fuckโ" it's just a little breathless and ruined at the edges. "i'm gonna take you apart." and he's never meant anything more. breath runs hot against skin tinged with want, and noah can practically taste it all. his thumb pulls down on rory's lower lip, and it all feels vulgar and obscene in all the right ways. "fuckin' cocky asshole," a beat, "you love testing me." there's no part of him that would change it. it's consumption and want and worship all wrapped in a neat little bow. "talk to me, ro." he smirks, "tell me how often you think about this."
the door clicks and rory can feel noah's restraint falling away the second the hallway disappears, how his hands turn claiming instead of careful, and stops performing and becomes pure want. it sends a hot, stupid pulse straight through rory's gut that he refuses to show on his face. he keeps the grin anyway (and the attitude), but his body gives him away in how he catches noah by the hips and drags him in, closing the gap until there's nowhere left to pretend they're being anything but casual. his shoulder presses the door as if he's holding it shut with his own weight, and when noah's mouth finds his neck, rory's hand slides up to the back of his head. it's not gentle; itโs rory, all insistence, and stubborn refusal to be the only one undone.
noah's breath is hot against him, and rory answers it by tilting his head, giving him more, then turning his face in to catch his mouth again, teeth knocking like he's trying to swallow the moment whole. he hates how good it feels to be wanted like this; he hates how his pulse makes a liar out of him. his fingers flex at noah's nape, holding him there, and the other hand stays planted at his waist like a claim. he thinks about the other side of the door โ the noise, the jokes, the consequences โ and it only makes him pull harder, like if he presses close enough he can erase the whole world.
when noah asks him to talk, rory gives a short, breathless laugh that doesn't sound like him, then masks it with a sharper smile. he drags his mouth along noah's jaw like punctuation, slow enough to be mean about it, and murmurs, "you wanna know how often?" his grip tightens at noah's hips, a deliberate little reminder of who's got him. "often enough i've had to tell myself to knock it off." a beat; he nudges noah back into him again, letting the contact answer what he won't say plainly. "and yeah,i love testing you," he adds quietly, because it's easier to admit it like an accusation than like a need. his gaze shifts up, completely locked in. "because you don't flinch, you push back. and you look at me like you want me anyway." he kisses him again, and it's hard, brief, and claiming, before pulling back just far enough to make it a dare. "so keep pushing me. keep making me prove it. justโฆ don't make me beg for it."
need.
๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐ต๐ถ๐น๐ด๐ฐ๐ป๐ ๐ถ๐ญ ๐ด๐ ๐ซ๐ฌ๐บ๐ฐ๐น๐ฌ . ย ย (ย ย aย seriesย ofย nsfwย prompts ,ย separatedย byย quotesย ย &ย ย actsย .ย ย โ my โย ย muse ย belongs ย to ย the ย oneย who ย posted ย the ย meme .ย send ย โ + REVERSE โ ย to ย reverse ย the ย promptsย ย )
ย ย ย ย โย WORDS .
โย iโmย sorry ,ย youย donโtย enjoyย beingย teased ? . ย โ โย youย knowย whatย iโmย waitingย for . ย โ โย keepย yourย handsย whereย theyย are . ย โ โย i want you to rideย [ me / my fingers ] . ย โ โย youย makeย theย prettiestย sounds . ย โ โย sayย please . ย โ โย iย wantย toย makeย thisย last . ย โ โย lookย atย me . ย โ โย iโmย yours ,ย onlyย yours - ย โ โย yeah ,ย just like that - ย โ โย iโveย barelyย evenย started . ย โ โย iย needย you . ย โ โย god ,ย shutย upย andย fuckย meย already ! ย โ โย god ,ย yes ,ย [ name ] ,ย donโtย stop . ย โ โย youย haveย noย ideaย howย longย iโveย wantedย toย doย this . ย โ โย whoย getsย toย touchย youย likeย this ? ย โ โย comeย forย me . ย โ โย ah ,ย ah -ย donโtย touch . ย โ โย braceย yourย handsย onย theย wall . ย โ โย couldย youย comeย likeย this ? ย โ โย please ,ย letย meย come - ย โ โย god ,ย youโreย beautiful - ย โ โย iโveย beenย waitingย forย thisย allย night . ย โ โย youโreย suchย aย tease . ย โ โย takeย theseย off . ย โ โย iย wantย toย feelย yourย [ mouth / fingers ] . ย โ โย doย youย haveย anyย ideaย howย goodย youย taste ? ย โ โย tellย meย whatย youย want . ย โ โย weย shouldnโt -ย ah ,ย we shouldnโt be doing this . ย โ โย faster ,ย [ name ] ,ย iย needย more . ย โ โย isย thisย good ? ย โ โย keepย yourย eyesย open . ย โ โย iย canโtย waitย toย findย outย whatย elseย youย canย do . ย โ โย youย donโtย haveย toย beย soย gentle . ย โ โย iย wantย toย hearย youย beg . ย โ โย canย iย takeย thisย off ? ย โ โย please ,ย please ,ย please - ย โ โย youโreย doingย soย wellย forย me . ย โ โย pleaseย touchย me . ย โ โย keepย reading ,ย iย wantย toย seeย howย longย youย last . ย โ โย iโllย buyย youย anotherย one . ย โ โย sayย myย name .ย louder . ย โ โย iย canโtย waitย anyย longer . ย โ โย youย feelย soย good . ย โ โย youโreย goingย toย leaveย aย mark - ย โ โย touchย yourselfย forย me . ย โ โย doย youย deserveย it ?ย ย โ โย didย iย sayย youย couldย come ? ย โ โ ย iโmย soย close - ย โ โย theyโreย goingย toย catchย us - ย โ โย iย wantย youย rightย here . ย โ โย weย haveย toย beย quiet . ย โ
ย ย ย ย ย โย ACTIONS .
โย pinย . ย toย restrainย myย museโsย handsย duringย intimacy . โย mirrorย .ย ย toย haveย sexย withย myย museย inย frontย ofย aย mirror . โย denyย .ย ย toย denyย myย museย anย orgasm . โย distanceย .ย ย toย haveย [ phone / video ]ย sexย withย myย muse . โย playlist .ย ย toย haveย sexย withย myย museย whileย musicย isย playing . โย pawย .ย ย toย fondleย myย museโsย ย [ chestย /ย ass ] . โย wall .ย ย toย pinย myย museย againstย aย wall . โย table .ย ย toย hoistย myย museย ontoย aย [ tableย /ย counter ] . โย clothedย .ย ย toย makeย myย museย comeย whileย fullyย dressed . โย finger .ย ย toย fingerย myย muse . โย oral .ย ย toย giveย myย museย oral . โย ferventย .ย ย toย haveย sexย withย myย museย afterย aย fight . โย distraction .ย ย toย rileย myย museย upย duringย aย film . โย mark .ย ย toย leaveย marksย onย myย museย [ย optional :ย specify whereย ] . โย tie .ย ย toย useย restraintsย onย myย museย duringย intimacy . โย throat .ย ย toย chokeย myย museย duringย intimacy . โย sparringย .ย ย forย sparringย toย turnย intoย sex . โย toys .ย ย toย useย toysย [ vibrator / strap / otherwise ]ย onย myย muse . โย imageryย .ย ย toย sendย myย museย aย risqueย photo . โย drag .ย ย toย pullย myย museย closerย byย aย pieceย ofย clothing . โย tearย .ย ย toย tearย aย pieceย ofย clothingย fromย myย museโsย body . โย showerย .ย ย toย haveย sexย withย myย museย inย theย [ shower / bath ] . โย sneaky .ย ย toย sneakย awayย fromย aย gatheringย toย haveย sexย withย myย muse . โย beg .ย ย toย makeย myย museย beg . โย carnalย .ย ย toย [ scratch / bite ]ย myย museย duringย intimacy . โย preoccupiedย .ย ย toย rileย myย museย upย asย theyย [ read / work ] . โย jealousย .ย ย toย purposefullyย makeย myย museย reactย possessively . โย dareย .ย ย toย haveย sexย withย myย museย basedย offย aย dare . โย readย .ย ย toย re-enactย somethingย fromย aย [ book / show / porn ]ย withย myย muse . โย collapseย .ย ย toย breakย aย bedย duringย sexย withย myย muse . โย caughtย .ย ย toย getย caughtย withย myย museย duringย sex .
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โ๏ฝกโงหส๐ษหโง๏ฝกโย ๐ฆ๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐๐ย (usft dialouge prompts)
โ are you gonna stare all night or do something about it? โ
โ you said you wanted me. so take me. โ
โ careful how you talk to meโฆ or iโll make you regret it. โ
โ we donโt have to make it to the bed. โ
โ you keep teasing me like that and iโm going to ruin you. โ
โ is that a challenge? because you wonโt be walking tomorrow. โ
โ you look good on your knees. โ
โ come here. now. and lose the clothes. โ
โ you know exactly what youโre doing. โ
โ iโve been patient long enough. โ
โ make me beg, then. see how long i last. โ
โ sit still. i want to take my time with you. โ
โ didnโt anyone teach you to knock?โฆ or maybe you were hoping to see this. โ
โ iโm not here to play nice tonight. โ
โ do that again and i swear iโll pin you to the nearest wall. โ
โ if you want it, come get it. โ
โ say please. louder. โ
โ you really think you can handle me? โ
โ this outfit is a problem. and i plan to solve it. โ
โ donโt move. let me take care of you. โ
โ you're already so needy for me, arenโt you? โ
โ we shouldnโtโฆ but thatโs not stopping you, is it? โ
โ youโre mine tonight. no interruptions. โ
โ one more sound out of you and i wonโt be responsible for what happens next. โ
โ donโt look at me like that unless youโre ready to follow through. โ
teddy has always been someone who watches, and that doesn't change now. brown eyes catch, and he watches the way the question makes jude pause. thoughtful. like they're weighing their options. that stirs something within him that he doesn't really know how to explain. it coils low within him, and his eyes flash dark. he doesn't acknowledge the way that he wants to read into it, like the consideration means that tis is more than just momentum. he can't โ because if he reads into it, he has to start thinking about all of the things he doesn't deserve. if it's just lust and momentum, than he doesn't have to acknowledge the fact that he cares so much about what jude thinks of him.
their hands stay grounded against the small of his back, and their lips brush his as they speak. god, he loves this. "nope." he replies, smirk wicked and wrecked at the edges. and when they send a shiver up his spine, he rolls his hips against their leg. a stuttering breath pulls from his lips, and the smirk shifts into something even more wrecked, but he knows that he's being like โ a brat โย but isn't that kind of teddy's mo anyways ??
jude could absolutely take him up against the wall. teddy would delight in the chaos and desperation of it. he always loved things a little messy and chaotic, it let him hide in the mess. and he's always preferred to keep himself from being seen in totality. because if anyone sees, they can find all of the marks of a past teddy doesn't want to talk about.
i wanna take my time with you. it lands heavy in his chest, and teddy kind of thinks his skin gets hotter. they guide him off the drywall, and pull him close. if teddy was anyone else, he might think it meant something. but it doesn't. nothing means anything because when it does he loses his composure. he stops being hot, young, funny and instead becomes damaged, vile, rotted. he doesn't want that. he wants to stay an object of desire.
the teasing, the warning, it sets him alight. like a live wire. god, he's so desperate. "can't wait." he replies, voice threaded with intent. "you sure you can keep up with me, baby ??" his voice is taunting, but they both know exactly what the answer is.
jude just smirks at the challenge.
"keep up?" he echoes lightly, steering teddy the rest of the way into the bedroom with an easy hand at his back. "i'm not the one talking big."
it's teasing, but not sharp. there's certainly no edge to it, only warmth and that low, unbothered confidence that comes from knowing they don't need to prove anything. he nudges the door shut behind them with his heel and, for a second, just looks at teddy. really looks. flushed cheeks. dark eyes. the way his breath hasn't quite evened out yet. jude feels a quiet, steady pull in his chest that he absolutely refuses to analyze, so he files it under attraction and keeps moving.
they step back first, not because they're retreating, but creating a little space. his jacket slides off his shoulders and gets dropped over the back of a chair like it never mattered. then they hook their fingers into the hem of their shirt and pull it over their head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside without ceremony. just casual confidence and warm skin under the soft light.
"you talk like you're ready to sprint," jude says, softer now, stepping back into teddy's space. his hand slides to teddy's waist, his thumb slowly brushing just above the waistband of his jeans. "i told you i wanna take my time."
they lean in and press a slow kiss to teddy's mouth, not in some frantic, overwhelming way, but enough to linger. enough to make the point. when he pulls back, his forehead rests briefly against the other's, his breath warm between them. then their fingers hook lightly at the hem of teddy's shirt, lifting it a couple inches, testing the waters, their eyes flickering up to teddy's face to gauge the reaction.
"c'mon," jude murmurs, his tone easy and sure. "let me look at you."
continued from @splitmeopens here !'
teddy didn't know what the inner workings of jude's mind operated like โ except for when he did. except for when he could clock things immediately, like the way they couldn't tear their eyes from him all night, or the certainty with which they pulled him in. he doesn't always know about how he reads to the rest of the world. he's always been all cocky smiles and stupid grins, and he wants so desperately to be seen as fun and exciting, without the fear of being noticed for all of the vile, vulgar shit that lurks just beneath the skin.
jude has this way about them that makes him feel comfortable. safety isn't something teddy expects, but the way their hands anchor into his hips feels like they could provide if he asked. he doesn't of course, but it's nice to feel like he could. wanting โย lust โ impermanence. those are all relatively safe places for him, he doesn't have to think too hard about it. it's that deeper, more persistent desire to just be around that has always thrown him for a loop. but that's a future teddy problem, not a present day one. he can worry about consequences when they happen, because right now he's a bit too focused on the friction of jude's thigh pressed between his legs.
teeth graze against the soft skin of his neck, and fumbling, stuttering breaths pull from him like second nature. he's good at this part. the wanting, the desperation. it's not as though he doesn't notice the way a well timed gasp has always spurred jude further. there's a part of him that wants to tell them to quit being gentle and keep pushing, but something in the unhurried way they pay attention to him feels like it borders on reverence, and teddy has an unrelenting desire to be cared for. one he shoves down, and pretends doesn't exist, but it's there nonetheless.
he can hear the way jude's voice has darkened, edged with desire instead of the haphazard, faux habitual nature that he's used to hearing. it's more substantial and teddy would hold it in his hands if he could. it stirs something darker and more primal within him.
desire coils low in him, and wraps itself so tight in his chest. their knee presses into him, and hands flatten against his back to pull him closer. god, it's all so perfect and hot and he doesn't want to pretend this isn't exactly the kind of thing he lays awake at night picturing. he couldn't have fantasized it any better. a soft, barely there moan tumbles from his lips before he has a chance to pull it back, but why does he need to anyways ??
it's messy and desperate and hot breath against rapidly warming skin, and teddy feels like a live wire. like everything is enough to make him spark. including, but not limited to, the way jude presses their hips into his, friction enough to pull quiet, shameful noises from somewhere deep within him, gentle enough to still tease and build. their foreheads tip together, and jude admits tha they've been pretending too. if teddy wasn't losing it before, he certainly would now. but they know him so well, from months of orbiting each other, and they don't give him the space to sink his teeth into it, to spin it into something sharp and painful. instead, jude's pressing him back into the wall, tongue slipping between bitten red lips like he has nowhere to be. it's deliciously comfortable to be settled into their arms in a way he won't name. they play this game of avoidance like it's the easiest thing in the world. there's no need to draw focus to one more piece of information they're both so keen on ignoring.
he finally pulls back, just for a moment, his own breathing ragged and smile crooked. "you gonna fuck me on this wall, or should we go to your bed ??" to be honest, teddy would probably do either. both. it doesn't matter. he just craves sensation. wanting. and he's choosing it with jude, because it feels obvious. because this has been what he wants for months. so maybe it was kind of the obvious choice, but if he's going to destroy everything, he may as well at least get a couple good orgasms out of it. even if he hasn't interrogated the fact that at no point has he wanted to run.
jude hears the question and, for once, doesn't answer it immediately. not because he's shocked โ he's imagined both options more times than he'd ever admit โ but because of the way teddy says it. breathless. wrecked. grinning like he's daring the universe to hand him something good and not rip it away. there's heat in it, yeah, but thereโs also choice. and that lands heavier than the friction between them. jude studies him for a beat โ the bitten lip, the flushed skin, the way his chest rises unevenly โ and feels that inconvenient warmth bloom again, the one they keep trying to rename as lust so they don't have to call it anything deeper.
his hands remain firm at teddy's lower back, holding him in place, not pinning, just grounding. their knee stays between teddy's thighs, a steady line of pressure that promises more without rushing it. he leans in close, breath brushing the other's mouth as he lets the silence linger just enough to feel intentional. "you really don't ease into anything, huh," they murmur, but there's no edge to it โ just heat, just a crooked sort of fondness buried under want. his thumb drags slowly along teddy's spine, feeling the shiver he pulls from him, committing it to memory without acknowledging why that feels important.
jude could take him right here. they know that. teddy would let him. probably ask for it louder. but something in him resists the impulse to treat this like a quick collision against drywall. not because they're suddenly sentimental, or because they're afraid. but because he doesnโt want this โ whatever this is โ to feel disposable. "bed," he says finally, simple and certain. then, lower, closer, like they're letting something slip past his defenses, "i wanna take my time with you." it isn't romantic, nor a promise. it's just honest.
his hands slide from teddyโs back to his wrists, guiding them gently away from the wall without breaking contact, keeping their bodies close as he starts to move them down the hallway. "don't get me wrong," jude adds, mouth curving into that dark, familiar grin, eyes full of intent. "i'm absolutely gonna make you regret talking that big." the words are half tease and half warning. they walk him backwards toward their bedroom, never letting the space between them cool, still avoiding the bigger implications, still pretending this is just heat and momentum, but choosing him anyway.
i wanna take a strap from behind so bad like please push my head into the pillow so forcefully that i can barely breatheโฆ.until im frantically trying to push you away because of how hard youโre fucking meโฆand you dont stop, you just laugh because my arms cant even reach your hips to get you off of me
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he knows that this is different than the late nights pressed into dingy bar booths and stuttering breath before an airy smile and a wave. they have been doing this dance for months, but they haven't ever let themself be vulnerable like this. they never leave together. he never gets this far. because he's too afraid of commitment. of trust. but he knows that he doesn't have to be permanent just because he finally found himself on the other side of their door. even if he wants to be. their hands press into his hips, grounding. stable. like he can let go just a little. which, for a guy like teddy, is kind of the whole point. he grips everything so tightly and pretends he doesn't, he watches his hands break things. it's maybe it's why he hasn't ended up here sooner. because breaking the friendship he's found with jude feels like a mistake. but fuck it, he's going to ruin their friendship. and there's a part of him that knows that this has been where they were heading for a long time. his voice is too thin at the edges, and a gasp pulls straight through him when their lips meet his jaw. it's maddening. he's desperate. their knee presses against him again, and his cheeks run hot at the noise that rips through him. god, he should be embarrassed about that. but his head is swimming with desire, and he's not entirely sure jude knows what they've gotten themself into. teddy tends to be insatiable. but he doesn't let the fear ring in his head for too long. he's too focused on the friction and the way that their breath feels on his neck. "didn't say that." he replies, voice strained and breathless already. he's such a mess when it comes to sex. it's like the only language he knows how to speak is desperation. wanting. their thumbs hook into the waistband of baggy jeans, and he wants so badly. "tired of pretending i don't want you." he doesn't really mean to admit that he has been pretending. because he has been for months. and he knows that this is about to be so different, he knows that they're about to break all of the boundaries he's set for himself around the stupid feelings he boarded up when it comes to them. he doesn't let those press out of their box, he can't let them sit too close to his skin. he'll break under the pressure of rejection and he knows it. the statement settles something within him, like it slams his heart back into his chest instead of trying to climb out of his throat. his body is electric under jude's influence, and his hands slip from the cotton of their tshirt to the back of their neck, like he can pull him impossibly closer. god, he wants so desperately.
jude feels that admission hit him slower than the kiss, but heavier. tired of pretending i donโt want you. it isn't coy, or dressed up. it isn't padded with humor or bravado or an easy exit. it's breathless and exposed in a way they usually swerve around at full speed. and for a dangerous second, he considers answering honestly (not out loud, never out loud) but with the way his body has already betrayed him. their hands tighten at the other's hips, fingers digging in with quiet insistence, like they need the pressure to stay anchored in this moment. like he needs to prove to himself that teddy is real, warm, and here. their mouth drifts from teddy's lips to his jaw, teeth grazing just enough to pull a sound before their lips follow. he takes his time there, mapping familiar skin like he hasn't already imagined doing this a hundred times. they like the way teddy reacts. likes how easily teddy gives him those little tells. likes knowing teddy wants this just as badly as they do. pretending has always been their shared language. pretending it's just heat, habit, and that it doesn't linger. teddy just admitted heโs done pretending, and instead of panic, jude feels something dark and hungry coil low in his stomach. not fear or regret, but pure, unfiltered want. "yeah?" they murmur against teddyโs skin, their voice rough and edged with intent. "good." his knee presses in again, slow and purposeful now, a steady line of contact that leaves no room for misunderstanding. their hands slide from teddy's hips to his lower back, flattening there, pulling him flush against them. he can feel the heat between their bodies, the tension, the way the other's breath stutters when they're this close. jude pretends not to notice how natural it feels to hold him there, and clock the fact that he hasn't once considered letting go. they don't talk about feelings. he lets them leak out through touch. their mouth moves lower, brushing along teddy's throat, lingering at the pulse under their lips. he presses a slow kiss there, then another, then lets his lips drag, open-mouthed, just enough to make it messy. their breath ghosts hot over skin. his teeth catch lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make teddy feel it. when jude finally lifts their head, their foreheads brush, noses bumping, breath shared and uneven. "you have no idea," he says quietly, like the truth slipped past his defenses before he could stop it, "how long i've been pretending too." they don't give teddy space to overthink it before they kiss him again. slow. deep. lips parting, tongue sliding in like he's in no rush, like he plans to learn every sound teddy makes, every way his body responds. itโs heavy with intent, heavy with choice. still avoidant. still refusing to name what this is. but very clearly, very intentionally, wanting him.
continued from here for @imprcperdose !
jude feels it everywhere at once โ not just the shudder in teddyโs body, or the hitch in his breath, but the way the air between them goes thick and charged like it's been waiting for this exact moment to snap. it's familiar territory, technically. theyโve been circling each other in dark corners and sticky-floored bars for a long time. but this is different. this isn't hidden. this isn't half-drunk and temporary. this is teddy in his apartment, backed against his wall, looking at him like jude is the thing he wants most in the world. jude doesn't interrogate that thought. they absolutely refuse to. his hands stay firm at teddyโs hips, thumbs pressing in like heโs grounding himself through the contact. they can feel how responsive teddy is, how his body gives before his mouth ever does. jude has always pretended he doesn't notice that about people. itโs a lie. they notice everything. he just chooses not to name it. because naming things turns them into something else. and they're very good at avoiding something else. his mouth drifts from teddyโs lips to his jaw, to the corner of his mouth, not quite kissing, just close enough to make it maddening. their voice is low when they finally answer, roughened by how close they are. "yeah," jude murmurs. "you caught me." there's a crooked smile in it, but it's thinner than usual, edged with real intent. his knee presses in again, slower this time, purposeful, letting teddy feel exactly how aware he is of the effect heโs having. "and youโre really gonna stand there," they add, eyes flickering up to meet teddy's, "and pretend you don't want the exact same thing?" his thumb hooks at the edge of teddyโs waistband, not pulling, not yet โ just resting there like a question he doesnโt actually need answered. jude leans in close enough that their foreheads almost touch, breath warm and unsteady. for a split second, the truth presses right up against their teeth: that they want teddy in a way that isn't just physical, that they've wanted him for longer than they've admitted to themself. he doesnโt say that. what they do say is simpler. safer. still honest. "i wouldnโt bring you home," jude murmurs, "if i didn't want you." and then he closes the last inch between them, mouth crashing back to teddy's, like he's choosing action over thought on purpose.
