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He pauses for a moment, lingering by Charlie's hips, to steal a pleased little glance up at him -- okay, maybe there's some smugness to it, too -- before finally moving where Charlie wants him. Despite the leisurely pace with which he'd been moving before, when he finally takes Charlie's cock into his mouth, he does so quickly, taking him deep right away, fingers digging into his hips a little as he does.

The moment Meyer's mouth is on him he forgets that his hands are tied. He instinctively reach for his hair, wrenching his wrist painfully when he does. He swears under his breath, but hopefully Meyer will just think it's from pleasure. It does feel damn good after all, even with the stinging in his wrists.

He does vaguely wonder whether that swearing is from enjoyment, or because Charlie got overeager and strained his wrist reaching for him; it seems like the kind of thing Charlie would do, after all -- not that he can judge him, he'd probably do the same. Still, he keeps going, not teasing, not tormenting Charlie by moving too slowly, simply setting a relatively quick pace, taking Charlie as deeply as he can into his mouth. This is something he knows he does well, and he's not at all ashamed of showing off that fact a bit, especially when Charlie's got his hands tied like that.

Meyer is damn good at it, so much so that he doesn't bother trying to draw it out or make it last. He hooks one of his legs around Meyer's, keeping him close, arching into him as he comes.

"Jesus... fuck, Meyer." He almost always swears when he comes, gasping and morphing into a laugh at the end.

He waits for a few seconds to pull away, back to his lazy, slow movements. "I guess I should untie you," he says, almost as an afterthought.

Although -- he's got Charlie tied up, and Charlie's all relaxed and pleased now. This seems like the perfect opportunity to crawl up next to him... and very quickly, almost mischievously, rub his face on Charlie's shoulder again. He hasn't forgotten how he started out the morning, after all.

That completely tears Charlie out of his delightful post-orgasmic daze and he squawks indignantly.

"Fuck! Jesus, Meyer. And heres I was gonna be nice and say you could come on me ifs you wanted."

He gives him a kick, as best he can at this angle.

It's a pretty well-aimed kick, but it just makes him laugh, because that's about the reaction he was expecting. He'd've kicked Charlie, too, were the situations reversed.

"So can I assume that that offer's been rescinded now?"

Charlie grins at him, wide and wicked.

"Maybe it is, or maybe nots. Ain't like I can dos much about it like this, huh?"

That statement probably shouldn't be so damn arousing, but of course it is, because he's predictable in many ways, and being a complete and total control freak is just one of those ways.

"Y'know, I could always untie you," he says, though even as he says it, he's moving away from Charlie's shoulder to straddle him instead.

"Yeah, you coulds. Who knows, I might just run away, thens. Seeing all the bad fucking treatment I've been having this morning." Yes the horrible, nasty treatment that left him feeling still tingly and warm and over-sensitive. Meyer feels nice, setting over his hips like that, and he tugs at the belt again, wanting so hard to run his hands up and down the solid muscle and smattering of hair of Meyer's thighs.

"Mmhmm... or maybe I should run away, what with all that harassing of my stomach you were doing."

He doesn't appear to be running away, though. However, he also doesn't appear to be untying Charlie. It's more fun seeing him trying to get himself free -- he's pretty sure Charlie could break free if he really tried, but that's half the fun. That's probably why he's started to stroke himself now, slowly, almost like he isn't as incredibly aroused as he is right now.

As soon as Meyer start touching himself he stills, just for a moment, just to watch. Because fuck, if that isn't one of his favourite sights in the world. His mouth is suddenly dry and he feels himself licking his lips.

"How longs would yous leave me tied up here, if yous did that?"

"As long as I wanted to, I guess."

He keeps stroking himself, running the fingers of his other hand down Charlie's chest as he does so.

"Maybe just long enough so you get excited again. So I can give you a repeat performance."

Yes, Charlie, he'd like to leave you tied up for the sake of giving you blowjobs. This is either an excellent idea, or an extremely cruel one. Or both.

It's a good thing he just came already, because the sight of Meyer touching himself like that, the feeling of his cool, dry hand across his skin, might just be too much to take. Charlie is breathing in little hitched puffs of air, as if he's afraid of breathing in all the way.

"Making me wait that long? You'd better sit on my dick instead, ride me til I'm a fucking mess."

"You really think it'd take that long?"

It's pretty hard to deny that Charlie making suggestions like that isn't arousing as hell, though, and his eyes drift shut for a moment as there's a little shift in his breathing, making his breaths come out quicker and more ragged. He doesn't actually intend to leave Charlie tied up, but it sure is fun to think about, which is probably why his hand begins moving more quickly, even though he doesn't consciously intend it to.

Charlie's moving as much as he can now, with his hands tied and his hips trapped will allow. His muscles shift and flex underneath, legs curling and uncurling, pressing heels into the mattress. His hips lift against Meyer's, just a fraction, just enough to show how much he's enjoying the show without actively bucking him off.

"Maybe not too longs. But don't says you ain't into the idea."

"Yeah," he says, with a quiet little laugh that's almost more like a gasp, bracing one hand on Charlie's chest, "Can't you tell I'm into the idea?"

He's practically moaning now, eyes still shut, enjoying the way Charlie's moving underneath him. It's obvious he's close to the edge, but holding back for some reason -- probably just another one of those little expressions of control that he's so obsessed with, or perhaps just the desire to draw it out, which is why he opens his eyes again to watch Charlie.

"Yeah, a little. I thinking seeing you come like this would makes me believes it more."

He can tell Meyer's close, but he can also tell he's holding off, and why would he do a thing like that when seeing him climax is always the most beautiful fucking thing in the world?

Maybe he's just holding off because he's looking for a little encouragement, like the encouragement Charlie just provided him. There's nothing he likes better than hearing Charlie talking like that, even if he can't often return the favor. All it takes is a couple more strokes, and he's coming all over Charlie's chest, moaning loudly, throwing his head back with his eyes closed. He knows he's probably making it into more of a show than it needs to be, but hey, that's half the fun, isn't it, especially having Charlie tied up like this.

He switches into a low mumble of Italian as Meyer comes, using every pet name and swear word he can think of, mingling them together. Nothing else can accurately describe the fucking beautiful sight of Meyer on top of him, head thrown back and eyes closed as he spills his release right onto Charlie's chest.

It takes him a few moments to open his eyes and look back down at Charlie, little smile on his face, glad to see Charlie seemed to find it pleasurable to watch, because he sure as hell found it pleasurable to do. With some reluctance, his hands go to the belt that's binding Charlie's wrists and start to untie him.

"Okay," he says, still breathing hard, "Guess I won't keep you trapped here forever."

"Real obliging, yeah." As soon as his wrists are free he flexes them a little, moving them in circles and loosening the tight muscles.

"I think I needs a shower."

"Yeah, you probably do."

And that's probably his cue to get off of Charlie, too, so that he can actually get up and go shower. He does so, none too gracelessly, flopping back to the bed. Don't mind him -- he'll just be lying here in a half-stupor.

Charlie follows the trajectory of his mouth as Meyer rolls off him, and gives him a quick kiss before sliding out of the bed, towards the bathroom.

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