On A Rainy Afternoon

A pwp drabble for a rainy afternoon.

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Notes: I feel slightly ridiculous for this


On A Rainy Afternoon by moribundlust

The thought coiled in his head like a spring as he leant further. The awkward, solid mass he must look, clumsily weighting a leg between his.

‘I haven’t –’ he cut himself off, imagining the thousand difficult ways to end that sentence. ‘I don’t mind,’ Vince had responded too quickly, his eyes wide.

He ran a flat, insistent hand along Vince’s stomach, watching as he willed himself still, his eyes flickering shut. Half aware of stalling for time, Howard pressed his mouth to Vince’s skin, noting distantly the hitch in his breath. His mind drifted, noisily grasping at information: ‘Avoid using your teeth, place your tongue over –’, he dimly recalled a page torn out of a glossy woman’s magazine Vince had left behind. ‘Or, like swallowing a pint,’ Vince had blurted out, as Leroy laughed, nudging at Howard under the table.

Howard focused his attention self-consciously on Vince’s thigh, planting wet, rapid kisses with nervous energy. He’d never felt dirtier, more sordid than now, recoiling slightly at the taste of hair on his tongue. As he met Vince’s bleary eyes, Howard looked for a moment for the thought behind them. (‘Yay!’ thought Vince). With an air of concentration, he tucked his fingers under Vince’s waistband, gingerly pulling it over the tip of his cock. And his hand faltered, watching him, already hard and breathing shallow. ‘Expectant,’ supplied Howard’s mind unhelpfully. He was too aware of the fleshy weight of his chest pressing into Vince’s knee, the smear of gloss that caught the sun at his mouth, swallowing the last light of the day.

Vince swore a quick litany at his touch, his heart in his throat. ‘Remember the –’. Howard chuckled deeply, and he jerked, startled at the feel of it against him. Pressing half moons in his leg, red and white, he chafed his other hand at Howard’s neck.

He smiled inside himself, amused at the harsh sound. Pursing his lips, he met Vince’s eyes briefly, working his mouth down, teasing out the taste of him. With a cruel judgement of Vince’s pitch, Howard lingered, the steady movement of his tongue frustrating breathy appeals. ‘And that scent. It’s familiar,’ he thought vaguely, his small eyes narrowed with the effort. Shifting, fabric pressed against warm skin; Howard winced at his own discomfort, mind blank but for an intention to take Vince in, completely.

His tongue quickened pace, straining to swallow Vince’s cock nearly to the base, with a detached surprise at his ease. He looked along his cheek at Vince; his eyes fixed, blue and intense on Howard. He was flushed magnificently, and Howard drank in the sight, greedy: Vince’s mouth a perfect, decadent ‘O’ as he came.

Vince fell beside him heavily, kissing the corner of the smile playing on his lips.

‘Hello sailor,’ he said, purring, ‘wasn’t too bad, eh?’ Howard raised an eyebrow, quite serious. ‘Worse things happen at sea, little man.’

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