averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

[Ryan presses against him eagerly, hips matching that motion- it's a bit staggered from Henry's rubs against him, trying to encourage a slightly faster pace as his fingertips dig into his hip.

That pressure from Henry's teeth draws another breathy whine out of him, answered with a harder press of his lips and a bite of his own as he draws back; it's less gentle, partly thanks to excitement, partly just the knowledge it won't hurt him.]

[It doesn't take much encouraging for Henry to move quicker, even less for his body to react to him, to the friction, to the sounds Ryan was making. There's an answering moan to the returned bite, pressing into it to encourage more of the same.

His free hand cups the side of Ryan's face, firmer than intended, fingertips slightly digging in.]

[That encouragement, the firm touch of his hand, both spur him on- the next bite is harder, tongue swiping over the marks his teeth leave to check for the taste of copper on Henry's lip. It had managed to become an almost familiar taste, just as much as having him in his mouth, and he lets his teeth dig into his partner's lip until they draw blood.

His hands match that pressure, nails leaving little marks at Henry's hip and longer ones down his spine, marking and claiming him just as Ryan likes to have done to him.]

[The taste of blood leads to, if anything, even more enthusiastic kissing, half for the pleasure of feeling Ryan mark him like that, half for the desire to spread his blood on him, even a little. Even if it wasn't the kind of stain that would last, it was something, some small reminder.

Arching into the other's nails, Henry finally pulls himself from Ryan's lips, ducking down to his neck, under the shadowy collar. His tongue traces the line under it before biting down hard, digging in as his hips jerk against his.]

[He bites a little harder, licks at the broken skin with his tongue again before sliding it against Henry's, sharing the taste with him-- it makes it a little more intimate than it already is, and a soft, disappointed noise slips out as Henry finally breaks away.

The sound that bite gets in response is anything but, though. It's gasped more than vocalized, Ryan's hips grinding desperately against his, and it takes him a moment to really realize he's got his mouth free again.]

Take me.

[It's hard for him to make anything sound like a demand, especially not when it's nearly moaned out-- but whether it's a demand or a plea, it's heated and every bit as desperate as his motions.]

[The sound of Ryan's voice makes his muscles tighten, and he bites down even harder before letting go, breathing heavily against his neck.

Actually getting up, forcing himself away from his body- he can't help the small whine of regret as he does so. Though once he's free, Henry moves much more quickly, getting to where the bottle of lube was on the nightstand and back to Ryan in a handful of seconds.

Taking some onto his fingers, he pushes at Ryan's legs, to get them up- and once there, there's no pause for teasing then either, his fingers pressing inside him as soon as he could.

It wasn't the most gentle application he'd ever done, and it takes more than a little concentration to not rush through it entirely.]

Careful--

[It's murmured from between clenched teeth as he tries to stifle a wince, exhaling shakily and taking in another deep breath in an attempt to just relax. He hasn't done this in months at least, can't quite remember the last time he'd bothered when it was just himself and his hands, and it's not quite as easy to get used to as it'd been when he was last in Asgard.]

It's been a while, just- just slow down a little.

[He hates to say that, he really does-- Ryan's every bit as eager, but he also knows it's going to be more difficult if he doesn't.]

[The signs of discomfort did more to make Henry pause than anything else could, taking a breath as he stills his hand. And from there, the motion is very slight, fingers rubbing more than moving inside of him; wanting Ryan to be comfortable easily took precedence over his own need.]

...Sorry.

[The apology is half-mumbled against his leg, as Henry leans his head in to nuzzle quietly at Ryan's thigh, his fingers gradually falling into a steadier pace.]

It's alright, love.

[He lets out another breath, managing to relax a bit more as Henry continues on a bit more carefully; that's definitely easier to handle, he can deal with that. Ryan shifts to let his leg drape over Henry's shoulder, keeping it propped up a bit while allowing them a bit more contact, and once he's adjusted to the sensation again it won't be long before those deep, even breaths start becoming shallow again.]

[The extra contact was both welcome and reassuring, and as he feels Ryan start to relax, he carefully presses a little more firmly. It's still slow, for the time being, still worried about hurting him, but Henry gradually relaxes himself.

The need was there, but it was more of a warm ache; feeling and watching Ryan like this was good too.]

[He settles in a bit more, Henry's relaxation making his own even easier-- it doesn't take too much longer before he starts to press himself back against that firmer touch, practically squirming against the blankets. It's definitely hitting the point where that starts to really feel good instead of a little uncomfortable, and he doesn't make any effort to stifle the gasping little sounds of pleasure Henry's touch draws out of him.]

More--

[Henry bites his own lip, tasting blood again at the sound of him, at the return motion against his hand. He's tempted to pull out, to take him then- and there's a small hesitation before he adds another finger instead; he'd already hurt Ryan once by being over-eager, he didn't want to do it again.]

...tell me when it's enough, okay?

[The addition of another finger draws a gasp from him-- it's only a momentary discomfort, and it quickly makes him even more desperate for more than that. Ryan sucks in a shaky breath, managing a nod.]

It'll be enough if you lube yourself up too, just- just fuck me, please--

[That gets a laugh in reply, small and breathless- but it's still carefully that he slips his fingers out, forcing himself not to rush. Fumbling for the lube still feels like it takes far longer than anything should, shivering a little at his own touch as he looks down at Ryan. Leaning over him again, guiding himself to his body- there was a need there that wasn't entirely physical, but physicality at least he could try and satisfy.

Though it's not hurried, Henry doesn't pause until he's pressed fully inside of him, body settling as close over Ryan as he could, letting out a shuddered breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.]

[Waiting is almost more than he can take- when Henry finally eases into him it's all he can do to not push back against him, force him to move faster. He knows taking it slower's for the best, knows he'd asked for it earlier, but his body would be perfectly fine with ignoring reason and just demanding more if he'd let it.

Ryan's arms and legs wrap as tightly around Henry's body as he can manage, holding on to keep him from pulling back again and leaving him empty.]

Don't move. [It's a breathy whisper, almost a whine; he continues to cling to Henry, grinding against him as well as he can manage .]

...okay.

[It was simultaneously easy and incredibly difficult to remain still, to really dwell on the feeling of being inside him, as close as he could. He wanted to move, to get that friction, to take him as well as have him; he wanted to stay where he was, just like this, and not lose him for a moment.

He does lean over, as best as he could, brushing his lips against his.]

[Ryan stays like that for several moments, lips pressing back against his between whimpering breaths; he wants the friction and satisfaction just as much, but that fullness just feels too good not to enjoy it first. Still, he can't keep from squirming beneath him for what friction he can manage like this, and it isn't long at all before the need for more of it wins out. He kisses Henry once more before drawing in a shuddering breath, murmuring against his lips.]

...take me, love, hard, I want to still feel it tomorrow--

[He tries to speak, to reply, but ends up just nodding briefly to him, a shiver against his mouth, as he lets himself begin to move.

If slow, each motion is sharp, with progressively less of that lingering caution. If he couldn't just stay in him, he wanted to feel it just as much, to linger over the sensation instead.]

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