He's feeling pretty gratified with himself, thrilling at each one of Alecto's reactions to his little leaps of intuition, always with the intent to please. He slides his fingers out of Alecto's mouth slowly, just a little bit rough, stretching his jaw a little beyond the bounds of comfort, a wordless challenge and implication in the simple motion, before he replaces his hand with his lips, hooking his now-damp fingers into the elastic of Alecto's sleeping shorts and tugging them downwards.
"Since we're in the kitchen," he says, enunciating clearly despite their proximity, his words a physical sensation against Alecto's skin, not just an auditory one, wrapping his hand around the bulge of Alecto's cock and stroking gently, "I wonder if Daniel would prefer to bend over the counter for Thomas' cock?"
Josh's fingers leave his mouth with a wet little pop and it's only now that Alecto's breathing starts to pick up, hips jerking harshly as the other man slowly works a hand around him. For a moment, Alecto's entire train of thought crashes into a pile of flames and he can't be bothered to piece together a single coherent idea or sentence until he forces himself to close his eyes fully, temporarily blocking out Josh's intense, fervent stare that was making Alecto start to sweat.
"I think," he says, words throaty but breathless, "that's absolutely what he'd like to do." And with that, he rearranges himself, stepping out of his shorts and kicking them aside across the tile flooring, forgotten. As he turns, it's hardly graceful - it's hasty and just this side of urgent - with his legs spreading and his back dipped low, low, low, showing off the pretty, pale lines of his figure as he stretches himself forward against the cold marble.
His breath catches in his throat, but Alecto isn't watching him like this, can't see the way his hands shake as he fumbles the button and flies of his slacks open, pushing down his underwear and drawing out his erection.
Perhaps it had been a little presumptuous of him, but ever since the day before, when Alecto had confronted him with this little change in their approach (and he'd had to practically bite down on his own arm while locked in the bathroom to muffle the sound of him jerking off before getting ready for their brunch appointment), he'd taken to carrying around condoms and lubricant in the pocket of his slacks. It paid to be prepared, after all. If it didn't ever come up, then there was no need for Alecto to know - at worst, he'd be teased briefly about it, and Alecto knew far more about Josh that was embarrassing than an inclination to be safe; and if it did come up - well...
He's glad he'd remembered this morning.
"Thomas is pretty pleased with how the plans he made yesterday morning are going now, actually," he murmurs in Alecto's ear, leaning forward so his breath stirs Alecto's hair, and rests a proprietary hand on the curve of his ass, remembering how it had felt in his palm when they'd kissed back at the casino. But he can take far more liberties this time around, and his callused fingers run lightly over smooth, firm skin, sliding damply along the crack of his ass, the tips of his fingers just glancing over the tense ring of muscle at his entrance.
His hands clench briefly into fists, nails digging into his palms as he feels Josh's rough fingers trace over him, so close but still too far.
"Well, Thomas shouldn't let it get to his head," he grumbles, like a warning though it certainly feels more like a challenge. Alecto turns his head slightly, his dark hair flopping into his eyes, giving him an enticing, tousled look, as if he were shooting some sort of vintage pinup.
He chuckles in the face of the warning, before he pulls his hand away, and leans forward again to kiss Alecto's forehead, right where his dark hair is falling. "He'll be careful not to," he says softly, perhaps a little too genuine, before he shifts back and pops open the cap on the tube of lubricant he'd had in his pocket to slick his fingers. The angle of his ass, tilted up with his body pressed flat against the countertop, is more or less perfect for Josh to slide two fingers in, slow and exploratory, eyes steady and observant, ever alert for his next cue from Alecto.
He makes a sharp, appreciative sound when he feels Josh finally start to finger him open. But Alecto was never quite a patient kind of man, nor could he ever bring himself to stay quiet and…well, submissive (yeah, he gets the irony, thanks).
“Deeper - mm,” he says, even while he lifts his head when Josh presses a kiss to his temple. The action is so gentle compared to the demands he’s about to make. “And spread your fingers wider - ” A sharp inhale, suddenly as he feels each request come quickly to fruition. “Just like that - mm no - ” Alecto blinks his eyes open, pupils wide and expectant, looking back at Josh once more. “ - be rougher.”
Fuck. Since Alecto had become his new handler, there had been only a very fine line of propriety between Josh's automatic reactions to his comments and orders while on missions and - well, this. Not that he'd ever dreamed of this particular scenario coming to pass. (Well, maybe just a little bit of dreaming.)
He thrusts with his slick fingers, not only roughly, but demanding, expectant, intent on testing the physical limits of Alecto's body and pushing them as quickly as he can. He slides a third finger in, curling them all inside and stroking deliberately against clenching muscles, testing the angle. His other hand slides up along Alecto's spine to scritch lightly at the hair at the the nape of his neck and then back down, a gentle pressure traveling down between his shoulderblades and at his hip, hinting at what he might do once things really got moving again.
"Ready?" He asks, reaching deep inside Alecto with his fingers, and amends, quickly, "Is Daniel ready to take his husband's cock?"
When Josh curls his fingers like that, Alecto shivers all over, mouth falling open on a silent cry he forces himself to swallow before it slides out and he utterly embarrasses himself (far too early to do so in his humble opinion). His ass tilts even higher up, pressing back against Josh’s touch, eager for more, more, more.
“He absolutely is,” Alecto growls out, still playing along and feeling a spectacular thrill that Josh apparently enjoys it just as much. “In fact, I think Daniel’s getting pretty tired of waiting.”
He laughs softly at that and pulls his fingers out, fumbling a little awkwardly for a condom so he can put it on while letting his pants drop to the tiled floor of the kitchen and stepping out of them.
"Well," he says, lining himself up, pressing the head of his cock against Alecto's stretched slick hole, "Thomas is very eager to please," and thrusts his hips forward hard, pushing Alecto against the hard marble of the countertop. He immediately adjusts, reaching his clean hand out to grab Alecto by the hair and lift him up bodily, his other hand sliding between his hip and the counter, already warmed by their combined body heat.
"So fucking tight," he groans, as he starts to thrust, without a hint of self-consciousness. "They really should do this more often."
That initial thrust in, Alecto feels each and every unforgiving inch of Josh’s cock spearing him wide open and he can’t help but bite his lip, seeing stars behind his eyelids when they fall closed at the sensation.
“They really - ungh - should consider - nngh - spicing up their - sex life a little more often.” Everything stings, everything is white heat and it's like a snake constricting him around his belly, his thighs, his cock, tightening, strangling and all he can do is listen to the little voice in the back of his head that has this sibilant tone, flicks its tongue out at his ear, tells him to fuck because it's good. Good for their covers, good for the success of this assignment, good because it's what he wants and -
Oh no. No, no. This isn’t about you, you fool -
He writhes on the cold marble as he feels Josh ramp up a rhythm behind him. “Feel good?” Alecto grits out, keeping his words even despite his rapidly racing heart, gasping like air is at a lack in his lungs, and it is. It feels like a fever over taking him, bearing down on his body, making everything in him a giant conflagration. “Is this what Thomas imagined when he was jacking off in the shower yesterday? Huh?”
What Josh had been thinking in the shower yesterday was that he was really going to be in trouble for the rest of this mission if he couldn't get things under control, that he needed to stay professional, that he was going to have to be able to separate his physical reactions to what was needed for their cover from his instincts and responses to Alecto.
"So good," he replies, shuddering with pleasure, but it feels like Alecto is deliberately goading him on, trying to draw some other reaction out of him, and he does his best to respond, to rise to that challenge. He speeds the motion of his hips, the force he is bringing to bear, everything wet and rough and hot, driving towards a mutual completion.
"Thomas - nngh - feels very fortunate to be so indulged, but more than anything he - loves knowing that he can bring Daniel pleasure, that he can make his husband come."
Alecto doesn't take orders well. He never did. It's why he worked hard to be in a position where he gives them. He doesn't do well following other people's direction or prescriptive vision.
But when Josh goes and says that word, that cursed word, suggestive and almost a command in its inflection but no quite - Alecto hates the way he feels everything in him tilt immediately to respond.
And he does. Come, that is. He can't seem to help it from happening, hands balled back up into fists against the cold marble as he remains lifted up from it by the grip Josh has in his hair, holding him steady as he continues to wreak him.
He blames him. He blames M too. He blames the metal wedding ring clinking against the tabletop he's being fucked against. He blames the hard dick in his ass plowing his damp, slutty hole open. He blames himself for wanting it this badly.
And the worst part? The worst part is he can't even bother to stay in character anymore as his stomach clenches and he spills out white-hot all over his own stomach, because it's Josh's name that he whimpers out.
It's not the clench of Alecto's body on his cock with his orgasm, but the sound of Josh on his lips, in that broken whimper of pleasure, that makes Josh come, following him right over the cliff, biting his lip against a jumble of names that threaten to spill out, not sure at all what he wanted to say, what was the correct choice.
He falls forward slightly, a wordless groan in the back of his throat, his free hand shakily bracing himself on the edge of the countertop to not collapse over Alecto and press him down onto the hard surface. He is panting, almost breathless, white sparking behind his closed eyes, his heart beating practically in his throat. His brain is completely blank, absent of words, lost in what had just happened, without direction.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Since we're in the kitchen," he says, enunciating clearly despite their proximity, his words a physical sensation against Alecto's skin, not just an auditory one, wrapping his hand around the bulge of Alecto's cock and stroking gently, "I wonder if Daniel would prefer to bend over the counter for Thomas' cock?"
no subject
"I think," he says, words throaty but breathless, "that's absolutely what he'd like to do." And with that, he rearranges himself, stepping out of his shorts and kicking them aside across the tile flooring, forgotten. As he turns, it's hardly graceful - it's hasty and just this side of urgent - with his legs spreading and his back dipped low, low, low, showing off the pretty, pale lines of his figure as he stretches himself forward against the cold marble.
no subject
Perhaps it had been a little presumptuous of him, but ever since the day before, when Alecto had confronted him with this little change in their approach (and he'd had to practically bite down on his own arm while locked in the bathroom to muffle the sound of him jerking off before getting ready for their brunch appointment), he'd taken to carrying around condoms and lubricant in the pocket of his slacks. It paid to be prepared, after all. If it didn't ever come up, then there was no need for Alecto to know - at worst, he'd be teased briefly about it, and Alecto knew far more about Josh that was embarrassing than an inclination to be safe; and if it did come up - well...
He's glad he'd remembered this morning.
"Thomas is pretty pleased with how the plans he made yesterday morning are going now, actually," he murmurs in Alecto's ear, leaning forward so his breath stirs Alecto's hair, and rests a proprietary hand on the curve of his ass, remembering how it had felt in his palm when they'd kissed back at the casino. But he can take far more liberties this time around, and his callused fingers run lightly over smooth, firm skin, sliding damply along the crack of his ass, the tips of his fingers just glancing over the tense ring of muscle at his entrance.
no subject
"Well, Thomas shouldn't let it get to his head," he grumbles, like a warning though it certainly feels more like a challenge. Alecto turns his head slightly, his dark hair flopping into his eyes, giving him an enticing, tousled look, as if he were shooting some sort of vintage pinup.
no subject
no subject
“Deeper - mm,” he says, even while he lifts his head when Josh presses a kiss to his temple. The action is so gentle compared to the demands he’s about to make. “And spread your fingers wider - ” A sharp inhale, suddenly as he feels each request come quickly to fruition. “Just like that - mm no - ” Alecto blinks his eyes open, pupils wide and expectant, looking back at Josh once more. “ - be rougher.”
no subject
He thrusts with his slick fingers, not only roughly, but demanding, expectant, intent on testing the physical limits of Alecto's body and pushing them as quickly as he can. He slides a third finger in, curling them all inside and stroking deliberately against clenching muscles, testing the angle. His other hand slides up along Alecto's spine to scritch lightly at the hair at the the nape of his neck and then back down, a gentle pressure traveling down between his shoulderblades and at his hip, hinting at what he might do once things really got moving again.
"Ready?" He asks, reaching deep inside Alecto with his fingers, and amends, quickly, "Is Daniel ready to take his husband's cock?"
no subject
“He absolutely is,” Alecto growls out, still playing along and feeling a spectacular thrill that Josh apparently enjoys it just as much. “In fact, I think Daniel’s getting pretty tired of waiting.”
no subject
"Well," he says, lining himself up, pressing the head of his cock against Alecto's stretched slick hole, "Thomas is very eager to please," and thrusts his hips forward hard, pushing Alecto against the hard marble of the countertop. He immediately adjusts, reaching his clean hand out to grab Alecto by the hair and lift him up bodily, his other hand sliding between his hip and the counter, already warmed by their combined body heat.
"So fucking tight," he groans, as he starts to thrust, without a hint of self-consciousness. "They really should do this more often."
no subject
“They really - ungh - should consider - nngh - spicing up their - sex life a little more often.” Everything stings, everything is white heat and it's like a snake constricting him around his belly, his thighs, his cock, tightening, strangling and all he can do is listen to the little voice in the back of his head that has this sibilant tone, flicks its tongue out at his ear, tells him to fuck because it's good. Good for their covers, good for the success of this assignment, good because it's what he wants and -
Oh no. No, no. This isn’t about you, you fool -
He writhes on the cold marble as he feels Josh ramp up a rhythm behind him. “Feel good?” Alecto grits out, keeping his words even despite his rapidly racing heart, gasping like air is at a lack in his lungs, and it is. It feels like a fever over taking him, bearing down on his body, making everything in him a giant conflagration. “Is this what Thomas imagined when he was jacking off in the shower yesterday? Huh?”
no subject
"So good," he replies, shuddering with pleasure, but it feels like Alecto is deliberately goading him on, trying to draw some other reaction out of him, and he does his best to respond, to rise to that challenge. He speeds the motion of his hips, the force he is bringing to bear, everything wet and rough and hot, driving towards a mutual completion.
"Thomas - nngh - feels very fortunate to be so indulged, but more than anything he - loves knowing that he can bring Daniel pleasure, that he can make his husband come."
no subject
But when Josh goes and says that word, that cursed word, suggestive and almost a command in its inflection but no quite - Alecto hates the way he feels everything in him tilt immediately to respond.
And he does. Come, that is. He can't seem to help it from happening, hands balled back up into fists against the cold marble as he remains lifted up from it by the grip Josh has in his hair, holding him steady as he continues to wreak him.
He blames him. He blames M too. He blames the metal wedding ring clinking against the tabletop he's being fucked against. He blames the hard dick in his ass plowing his damp, slutty hole open. He blames himself for wanting it this badly.
And the worst part? The worst part is he can't even bother to stay in character anymore as his stomach clenches and he spills out white-hot all over his own stomach, because it's Josh's name that he whimpers out.
Fuck.
no subject
He falls forward slightly, a wordless groan in the back of his throat, his free hand shakily bracing himself on the edge of the countertop to not collapse over Alecto and press him down onto the hard surface. He is panting, almost breathless, white sparking behind his closed eyes, his heart beating practically in his throat. His brain is completely blank, absent of words, lost in what had just happened, without direction.