#gretur

The fire limned Greece in a warm crackling glow, haloing the mass of his dark brown curls as he rocked himself slowly on Turkey’s cock. His eyes were closed, and his lips were pursed together, parted slightly in the middle as he practically purred his pleasure, his naked torso arching, his skin glistening with sweat and smears of fragrant oil.

Turkey caught himself gawping at the spectacle Greece made – all hot and moaning and wanton, writhing atop of him – and swallowed thickly. Quickly, he rearranged his face into something less flustered looking, just as Greece’s eyes fluttered open.

Touch me, he seemed to demand with a heavily glazed look, his olive-green eyes hooded and framed with long dark lashes.

Turkey found that he was only all too willing to oblige.

With an oil-drenched hand, he reached out to grasp Greece’s arousal, and it was worth it just to have Greece jolt and clench delectably around him, throwing back his head with a hiss of gratified need. Deftly, he leaned over and bit into Greece’s exposed throat, just below his Adam’s apple. Greece’s moan thrummed beautifully against his lips, and he could not help but smile at that.­­

“Keep moving,” he growled, though not unkindly, for Greece had stopped his squirming and only held still, trembling bodily.

Greece wrapped his arms around Turkey and slowly he resumed his rocking. His fingernails dug into the meat of Turkey’s shoulders as he was rewarded with a stroke of his cock and a sharp nipping kiss.

It was a slow, comfortable pace that Greece could keep up all night. But Turkey, impatient oaf that he was, had a different idea. His hand, which had been gently massaging the base of Greece’s length, slid suddenly up to his torso and splayed, and, with a firm push, he had Greece tumbling back on the kilim rug.

“Let’s finish this,” he said, his hands running up Greece’s thighs to take hold of the back of his knees.

Snapping his hips forward, Turkey buried himself deep – deliciously deep – into Greece. Greece’s hole was wet and slippery with oil and hot around his cock. The move incited a gasp from Greece, but Turkey did not let up. Quickly, he set up a punishing rhythm, thrusting deep and hard and rough as he held Greece practically folded in half.

“God, you feel so good!” Turkey groaned.

“Sh-shut up,” Greece muttered. He had tossed his head to one side as if hoping to bury his face beneath his curls, but Turkey could see the blush sitting high on his cheeks. “Y-you talk too much, old ma–nngh!”

Turkey smirked to hear Greece’s voice crack. Oh the boy may protest, but the way his ass squeezed and sucked in his cock told Turkey a very different story.

“You love this,” he murmured, punctuating each word with a shallow but pointed thrust against Greece’s prostate.

“I s-said… shut… up!”

Greece’s legs, which were now coated in oil, slipped suddenly out from under Turkey’s hands and clamped around his waist, pulling him in. It took all of Turkey’s willpower not to come right then and there as his cock plunged deep into Greece. Haphazardly, and determined to not be the first to finish, Turkey gripped Greece’s appendage and began stroking in earnest, wringing out from him a series of broken gasps and shuddering moans.

It did not take long for Greece to come from the onslaught – and not a moment too soon.

With a final hasty thrust, Turkey sheathed his cock and spilled liberally inside Greece. He groaned, his body shaking as he rode out the waves of his release, and as soon as he was spent, he dropped to rest his head against Greece’s shoulder.

He stayed doubled over for a long moment after, panting lightly as his vision slowly returned, listening to the frantic thudding of Greece’s heart inside his ribcage.

“You’re getting old,” Greece said. Laughed. It stung Turkey a little.

“And you are still a brat,” Turkey grumbled.