averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

[Ryan's been denying himself since he arrived back in Asgard, and he's finally hit a point where he just can't do it anymore. It's been too long, he misses the intimacy far too much, and the reasons he's held back have just felt less important the more he readjusts to his life in the city. The memories of being more careful and gentle are still faded by those few years at home, his inexperience after that period without any practice won't ever get fixed if he continues to abstain... and the longer he goes without, the more nights he lies there with Henry in his arms and doesn't touch him the way he wants to, the more often he finds himself thinking about it.

This is exactly one of those times. Ryan's found his thoughts straying most of the day, and when he finally leaves the Highwind and fires a quick message off to make sure Henry's at home he makes the trip to the apartment with more purpose than usual.

The closing of the door is usually followed by several moments where he lingers, toeing off his shoes, just appreciating being home-- but this time his shoes are kicked off haphazardly, his overshirt shrugged off along the way as he immediately seeks Henry out. There aren't any words as he nudges his partner up against the nearest convenient surface and kisses him hard, his hands quickly finding their way beneath Henry's shirt.]

[Henry had noticed that small distance between them since Ryan had returned to the city. Not in affection or closeness, and he had no reason to doubt that he was still loved, or that Ryan was hiding a second ghost boyfriend back at home. It didn't seem anything like that, and as long as he could curl up with him, Henry was initially content.

So he hadn't thought much about the lack of sex at first, primarily relieved to have Ryan back in one piece, with his memories in place. They'd both had to reorient themselves, 'catch up' to the present day- but things were more-or-less settled, and the lack of that bit of intimacy was getting more noticeable. Something or other was holding Ryan back, and though Henry usually had no issue initiating something himself- he'd waited, even as he wasn't entirely sure what he was waiting for. And without knowing, it was probably no surprise that he didn't get anywhere. And patient as he was, he couldn't help but miss it.

But when he got the message asking if he was at home, Henry didn't think much of it, going to meet Ryan near the door once he heard him arrive. Not getting the chance to move far, a small sound of startle is muffled by the other's lips, his back pressed to the wall, feeling hands against his skin with a lot more intent than there'd been in... a while. He couldn't remember, and then there were more important things focus on.

It doesn't take thought to respond eagerly to the kiss, more than a note of desperation in it as he forces his way into Ryan's mouth. His hands slide immediately to the other's hips, dragging them against his body, helping to keep himself trapped against the wall.]

[There's just as much desperation in the way Ryan presses close against his body, a groan of relief slipping out unnoticed at the contact. Between the thoughts he'd occupied himself with on the way home and the promise of imminent relief, the eagerness Henry kisses him with-- it takes no time at all to encourage more of a physical response, and the slow, firm grind of his hips against his partner seems almost intended to make Henry notice that he's already mostly hard.

It's only half intentional, in all honesty. The rest is just because Ryan wants him too much to keep still, wants this to be like he remembers it before his last death-- possessive, demanding, needy. One hand rakes red scratches down Henry's back, but the other latches on to one of the hands clinging to his hips, tugging it away and upward to rest at his own neck. He guides Henry's fingertips in a small trace along the skin, hoping he'll understand the request without having to break the kiss to tell him; there are parts of that possessiveness he misses more than others, and fabric just isn't a substitute for shadows.]

[It was a sensation that wasn't possible to miss, and there was little on Henry's mind but the desire to match that feeling, to add to it, to quickly catch up to that arousal. Pressing into that grind, feeling the claw of nails against his back, his body shudders; one hand delves past the waistband of Ryan's pants, as if he could somehow force them down that way.

So with everything else going on, when Ryan takes his other hand, it's a few seconds before Henry realizes what he was asking with that motion. Once he does, his fingers tense, nails grazing along his skin as he tries to consider about what he felt about that.

But it was hard to consider anything but how much he wanted him, to possess and claim and take, and the shadows congeal around Ryan's throat without a word.]

[As soon as he feels that familiar band around his throat, his breath catches for a moment, just enough to make him break their kiss to exhale. The next breath is a murmur, soft but with no less feeling in it for the lack of volume.]

--thank you.

[There's more honest gratefulness there than satisfaction; he remembers why Henry was hesitant to claim him this way before, and he wants to be sure to express appreciation for that to encourage more of the same. He's missed it more than he thought.

Ryan isn't keen on leaving his mouth unoccupied, though, and with that hand still so close (and the one down his pants pushing his thoughts that direction)... he reclaims Henry's hand to bring it closer to his mouth, taking a couple fingertips in to lick and suck at them. The practice doesn't hurt, nor does the thought of how much he'd love to be on his knees and pleasing him like this again-- he can't help the moan that slips out at the idea, instinctively pulling those fingers in deeper.]

[Later on, he'd be surprised at how straightforward it was- that if the fear of hurting him was still there, he didn't have to always listen to it. That sometimes, shadows were okay.

There's a smaller smile at the reply, even as Henry tries to get his breathing more under control- a doomed effort once his fingers are moved to Ryan's mouth. The familiar warmth, the slickness of the tongue his fingers brush against, the sound of that moan- it's not long before his thoughts drift elsewhere either, a whimper working itself free. And as much as his other hand wants to stay where it is, he removes it from Ryan's pants to tug at his arm instead, to his hand- maneuvering his this time. Pulling it over, he presses it between his legs, tight against his arousal; it wasn't a request to be touched but an expectation.]

[He quickly takes the gesture as the expectation that it is, wasting no time in starting to rub him through the fabric of his clothes. It's not meant as teasing or even a slow start-- it just takes Ryan a moment to think about that being in the way, preoccupied as he is with the firmness his hand's been pressed against and his desire to touch.

He doesn't stop working at Henry's fingers with his tongue, soft little moans showing his approval at the taste of his lover's skin, the feel of him beneath his hand. All of it is good but he wants more, wants to touch him directly and feel the warmth of skin against his own fingers; Ryan slides his hand beneath that fabric as quickly as he can, not wanting to stop for too long, and wraps his fingers eagerly around the satisfying firmness of him as he begins to gently stroke along it.]

[His answering moan is louder, making no attempt to stifle it, as he feels fingers curl directly around him, the brief anticipation only adding to it. It had been too long since he'd been touched like this, he wasn't sure if it felt stronger, or if he was just more desperate than usual.

His fingertips scrape along Ryan's tongue, breath shivering at the combination of feelings, hips jerking forward into his hand. Everything was good, but it wasn't ever enough.]

[Ryan knows the feeling-- he's in a similar spot, thoroughly enjoying all of the contact but still eager for more. He takes in that moan with a little shiver running down his spine at the sound, pleased at the sign he's doing well enough, that he hadn't completely lost his touch at home; his grip is firm without being too hard, pace quick enough not to be teasing without losing any friction to his eager motions.

That want to go further is undeniable, though, and he pulls back from Henry's fingers, leaving a last little lick and kiss to one fingertip. The motion of his hand slows just enough to be noticeable as he takes a moment for a couple of panting breaths, his voice huskier when he manages to speak.]

...let me suck you, love, please, I want to taste you--

[It's pleading, almost outright begging, and the thought of it's enough that his breath catches before he can say anything else.]

[His muscles tense and tremble, the slowing touch producing an ache as Henry looks at him, skin flushed. It had only been a week or two for himself and he felt deprived; he could only imagine what it was like to realize it'd been missing for years.

Still-damp fingers brush the side of Ryan's face, as he darts in to kiss him. It's clumsy but full of affection, lips sliding together, before he pulls back, nodding as he tries to find a breath.]

Please, Ryan--

--anything you want.

[He doesn't quite manage to move immediately, nuzzling at him for another moment after that kiss. Hearing him ask for it, seeing that look on his flushed face-- god, he's missed this so much, missed everything about him when they're both eager and needy, and it's hard to overcome the urge to just hold him tight for a bit first.

The pleasant firmness his fingers are wrapped around is a good distraction from the idea, and he sucks in a shaky breath as he sinks to his knees. Ryan reluctantly lets go of him to start working his pants down and out of the way, nuzzling between his legs as he does, eagerly mouthing the outline of him through the fabric until his fumbling hands manage to get him exposed. Despite his excitement it's a slow start, tongue running almost reverently along him, all the way up from the base; having Henry in his mouth all at once just might be too much for him, at least at first. He wants to just taste him again to start, to feel the shape of him against his tongue and his cheek as he covers him in affectionate licks and brushes.]

[It's a struggle to keep his eyes open as Ryan pushes his clothes out of the way, as even the sight of him, that eagerness, the way he'd felt the damp heat of his breath even through fabric- it was already a lot to take in.

The sound Henry makes is soft, nearly high-pitched, breath shaky as he forces a hand to brush at Ryan's hair, though it's little distraction from the sight of himself brushing against his face, the way lips felt against his arousal. He leans heavily against the wall as he watches him, the trails left by Ryan's tongue slightly cool against too-warm skin.]

[Ryan continues in that vein until he's gotten the full length of him slick and wet, one lick at a time- there's lingering dampness on his face from those affectionate brushes, but he really can't bring himself to care whether it's a bit messy or not. All he cares about is giving this-- giving Henry, more importantly-- his full attention, and once he's satisfied that he's been thoroughly covered Ryan finally parts his lips around the head of him and takes him in.

It's just a little at first, just enough to lick at where it rests inside his mouth, and he continues on at a slow, almost cautious pace. He's unsure if he can still take all of Henry, but the way his lips glide along slick flesh feels so natural despite how long it's been. Almost comforting. Soft little moans are muffled around him, Ryan's hands holding on to his partner's hips tightly to keep himself braced.]

[The barest shudder passes through him at all the attention, his breath unconsciously stilling when Ryan starts to take him into his mouth, when that familiar warmth closed around the tip of him. It's only when he starts getting dizzy that Henry notices the lack of air, and his breathing is deliberately slow after that, even if he can never quite relax.

And even with the ache, he wants to let the moment last as long as he could, as taken by Ryan's evident enjoyment as much as the way it felt. Though his fingers still shake a little, the way he plays with his partner's hair is gentle, brushing it back from his face.]

[His head tilts slightly into that gentle touch, the corners of his mouth turning up into as much of a smile as he can manage with his lips already stretched around him. One of Ryan's hands flattens against his hip, rubbing idly up and down along the skin there to return that sort of affectionate gesture as he turns his attention back to pleasing him.

He takes more of Henry in a bit at a time, not quite managing to hold the full length of him in his mouth; he's going to have to practice a bit to get used to this again, to be able to just let his mouth be taken without worrying about discomfort, so for now he just wraps a hand around the base to stroke at the flesh his lips can't quite cover.]

[And Henry's not about to judge Ryan for how much he's able to take in, anything was fine, as long as he could feel him, the smooth heat of his mouth.

Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he just allows himself to feel it, both the slickness and the touch of Ryan's hand, the awareness of him kneeling in front of him, the softness of the other's hair against his own fingers. The quickness of his pulse as he shivered, his other hand moving to cover Ryan's at his hip, holding onto him.]

[He's still kept his pace measured if not outright slow, and that doesn't change-- Ryan wants to just shove caution aside and give him everything he can, but he's sure that once he does he won't be able to stop. So he takes advantage of it while he's still positive he's able to, hand shifting to lace his fingers between Henry's as well as he can as he reluctantly pulls back. It's only far enough to leave his mouth empty, though; he stays close enough for Henry to feel his breath against sensitive skin, the hand around him still stroking.]

--want me to finish you like this, or d'you want to take me?

[The continued touch of hand and breath kept it from being too frustrating when Ryan's mouth leaves him, but it takes Henry a few seconds to gather his thoughts and breath, to pay attention to what he was saying.

His hand squeezes at Ryan's as he replies, a small laugh in his tone.]

--I want to have you, but- I don't think I'm gonna last very long like this. If- that's okay....

[He breathes out a laugh in return, pressing a kiss to the tip of him with a brief, affectionate swipe of his tongue. That's definitely something Ryan can work with, but he doesn't get back to it immediately, freeing one hand to reach down and start loosening his uncomfortably tight pants.]

I'll just have to get you ready again, then-

[It's cut off by a distracted, pleased little moan of relief when he works the button free, tension easing as he tugs the zipper down; he can't help stroking himself a little, then, reflexively leaning forward to nuzzle at Henry and rub his cheek against that slick flesh, and once he's gone back to that contact he just can't pull away again. This time he isn't holding back, even more needy sounds muffled around Henry as he takes him in as far as he's able.]

[His body tightens sympathetically when he sees Ryan touching himself, and it's difficult to keep from moving, from shifting down to where he could help, wanting to feel him as much as he wanted him to continue.

Almost answering him, Henry's words are cut off when Ryan takes him in his mouth again, a louder whine slipping free instead, body trembling.

It's a little too much, too exciting, he wanted him too much- even trying to hold it back, it's not long before orgasm hits, arching hard against him, breathless and panting.]

[It's harder than it used to be for him to just let go and work at him with his mouth without sparing a thought toward what he can actually handle, but Ryan manages, encouraging sounds matching Henry's own noises-- he can feel that he's close but how soon it hits still almost catches him by surprise. A sympathetic murmur is stifled in Ryan's throat as he gently cleans him with his tongue, finally pulling back to lean his head against Henry's thigh.

His breath still comes heavy, and he just can't stop touching- he's honestly tempted to just lick and suck at him some more until he's aroused again, but he holds off, instead glancing up to Henry's face. There's nothing in that look but desire-- not all of it sexual, but all desire nonetheless-- and he doesn't even consciously realize he's shifted to press himself against his partner's leg until the friction makes him moan. It's almost embarrassingly desperate, and it's been too long since he was last touched for him to care about that, eyes sliding shut as he just gives in to how it feels.]

--god, I need you, please-

[Even in the middle of the haze of satisfaction and relief, Henry shivers at the way Ryan kept touching him, and even if he couldn't immediately respond to it, he could tell it wouldn't be too long until he would.

The stiffness against his leg makes his breath catch again, a low whimper working its way out as he looks down at him. But after a moment's focus, he leans over to take hold of Ryan's arms, to try and get him to stand up, to pull him towards the bedroom. As much as he wanted to stay there, to press Ryan down and rub against him until he was ready to continue, stopping then to go get lubrication would've been even harder. This was the only chance.]

Come on--

[It takes a moment for that to really register, for him to realize what Henry is trying to do-- once he does, Ryan forces himself still with a shaky breath, hands fumbling to hold on to him as he pulls himself to his feet. His knees are stiff from kneeling in front of him, legs almost weak as he tries to steady himself against Henry and the wall, but after a few moments he manages to get decently stable. He sucks in a breath and nods, letting himself be tugged along now that he's found his feet again.]

--alright. Alright, I'm good, let's... let's go.

[Henry doesn't respond to that except to pull at Ryan, half-leading, half-dragging him towards the bedroom, more focused on getting there as quick as possible instead of maintaining contact like usual.

It also means more than a bit of stumbling, a narrow avoidance of cats- but in the end if he could tackle him to the bed, it would be worth it. The bruises along the way were only a bonus.]

[He barely notices any bruises, each bump against furniture and doorframes nothing more than a delay to be ignored- the way he's busy trying to fumble his undershirt off along the way doesn't help matters, either, but it's just as important to him to get it off.

When he finally lands on the bed he's totally disheveled, one arm successfully out of its sleeve, pants still undone and halfway down his hips-- but he leaves them for Henry to take care of, immediately and desperately trying to wrap himself around him.]

probably gonna get nsfw

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