dowhatisays | IC Contact

[Meyer starts setting the pace and god if it doesn't feel like Charlie's being dragged head first along for the ride. He moans around him as Meyer thrusts fully into his mouth. One hand reaches up, scrabbling for purchase and gripping hard into the fabric of Meyer's vest. He can only keep his mouth slack, breathing hard through his nose as Meyer fucks his face.]

Charlie...

[It's practically a whimper. Normally, he'd be trying to maintain some kind of dignity, because it's almost always more fun when Charlie has to try to drag those noises out of him. There's not any of that self-control here, though. Charlie had been pretty much right in his prediction -- he's not able to hold back, nor is he able to resist making his pace just a bit faster, tightening his hand in Charlie's hair as he does.]

[He's not moaning now, only bitten off little grunts as he focuses hard on taking Meyer down as far as he can. His hand is still scrambling at Meyer's chest, fingernails sinking deep enough for Meyer to feel them, and hard, he's sure.

He can't help the feeling the pride that swells through him, too. They haven't even got to the fucking yet and Meyer's begging for it. Damn he's good.]

[He'd never argue with Charlie's assessment of being good, not when he's able to use his mouth like that and not when Charlie's nails bite into his skin like that, even through his clothes. It's almost too good, putting him far too close to losing control entirely, and so it's with reluctance that he tugs Charlie away and looks down at him, eyes dark and intent as ever.]

C'mon. I wanna fuck you.

[There's very little precision in his words -- he's almost slurring his speech -- but he thinks his point is well made.]

[He looks completely lewd as he runs the back of his hand along his mouth. And based on the way he's locking eyes with Meyer as he does means he probably knows it, too.]

Yeah. Fuck yeah.

[He's using Meyer's jacket to pull himself up, chests flush together. Your move, Meyer.]

[He has to take a deep breath to steady himself, and then he's practically shoving Charlie away, but only for the sake of directing him where he wants him to go.]

Get on the couch.

[It's definitely a demand, and he finally shrugs off his jacket. He doesn't seem inclined to remove anything else, though. The jacket's enough, for now.]

[Charlie's hand goes to the fly of his own trousers, palming himself as Meyer manhandles him towards the couch.]

Front or back?

[He's breathing hard enough now that talking's becoming difficult, but fuck it he would really like Meyer to keep using that voice on him.]

[It's hard for him to conjure up anything other than that voice, at the moment, so it's probably for the best that Charlie wants him to keep using it. He practically shoves Charlie back onto the couch cushions, a far too devilish smile on his face.]

Lie down on your back. I wanna see your face.

[He lets himself get shoved down, landing on the couch with a small 'oof'. A hand tangles hard into Meyer's necktie, jerking him in for a searing kiss. Hey, just cause he's the one getting bossed around doesn't mean he can't be a little rough back.]

[On the contrary, it wouldn't be fun at all if Charlie wasn't rough back. That was part of the fun. He leans into the kiss, letting out a quiet groan, and then breaks the kiss for the sake of sitting up so he can pull Charlie's pants and underwear the rest of the way off. And for a second, he can do nothing but admire the view, running one hand ever so lightly down Charlie's chest and onto his hip.]

[With his hand tangled into Meyer's tie like this, he only has to inch one hand a little higher, grabbing hard onto the knot of Meyer's tie and pulling it up tight against His throat.]

Stop fucking around, Meyer.

[His voice is low in his throat, little more than a growl. Come on, Meyer. Now who's being a fucking tease.]

[He likes this response very much, and the hand that's trailing across Charlie's chest turns far rougher, adding his fingernails to the mix.]

You're not asking very nicely.

[He doesn't have it in him to be a tease for much longer, but that doesn't mean he won't try for a second. It's all about the control, after all.]

[His hand grips firm under Meyer's jaw, thumb digging in and leaving marks. Maybe he's being an idiot, maybe he shouldn't be winding Meyer up any more than he already is. But Charlie's never been very good at taking the safe route and fuck he just wants to see how far he can take this.]

I ain't into asking nicely.

I didn't ask if you were into it.

[No, Charlie, he told you you weren't asking nicely. And from the grip Charlie's got on him, it's pretty obvious he's not going to be asking nicely anytime soon, either. In another situation, he might continue to be a tease, to pretend he wasn't going to give Charlie anything anyway, but that hardly appeals to him now.

If Charlie wants to hold him that tightly, leaving marks, then he can return the favor. He ignores the hand under his jaw, settles for getting a firm grip on Charlie's shoulders, pressing him back into the couch cushions, putting most of his weight on him as he leans down to bite at Charlie's shoulders and chest, none too gently. Charlie can leave marks all he wants -- he's still going to be the one getting pinned to the couch.]

[He groans loudly when Meyer sinks his teeth into him like that. Hands scramble across his back, fingernails digging in.]

C'mon, Meyer, take some fucking clothes off.

[He wants to do this properly, wants to sink nails into him and have it leave marks. He even rocks his hips up into Meyer's for a little incentive.]

[Almost grudgingly, he reaches up to loosen his tie with one hand, to toss it and his collar away, then gets started on the buttons of his vest, purposefully moving slowly, still holding Charlie's shoulder with one hand, although the way Charlie's moving his hips makes him want to hurry. The vest gets tossed to the floor, too -- an unusually careless move, for Meyer, who'd normally insist upon putting it somewhere it wouldn't wrinkle -- and he unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt, but that's all the concessions he'll give.]

Good enough?

[Of course it's not good enough. He knows it as well as Charlie does.]

[Charlie squirms under his hand - not enough to throw him off, just enough to show he's not giving up yet.]

Barely.

[Fingernails coming in contact with his skin at last, dipping inside his collar to dig into the skin across the back of his neck.

He's hardly forgotten that Meyer's cock is still hanging out of his trousers, and rocks against him again.]

I guess barely'll just have to do.

[He probably shouldn't enjoy those fingernails digging in as much as he does, but he's not going to complain about it. He may, however, dig his own nails into Charlie's shoulder in retaliation, and his grip is definitely going to leave marks.]

Now, are you going to ask nicely?

[He doubts it. And maybe that's why he's looking to provide just a bit more incentive, sitting back and running his hand down Charlie's body, from his chest to his hip, then scooting down a little further so that he can nudge Charlie's legs apart and sit between them, resting a hand on his inner thigh.

Slowly, and very purposefully, he puts one finger into his mouth, getting it good and slicked up before pushing Charlie's legs even further apart and pressing that finger inside of him, almost too slowly, teasingly.]

[He can barely hear anything over the sound of his own breathing, and the pounding of his own heart in his ears. But it all snaps back into sharp focus when Meyer sinks that one finger into him.

He hooks a leg around Meyer's hips, heel digging into his ass.]

Like fuck, I will.

So stubborn...

[It comes out as an amused growl, if such a thing is possible. If Charlie's going to drag him closer by hooking a leg around him like that, he really has no choice but to pick up the pace a little, working his finger into Charlie, looking for that spot that'll make him go weak in the knees. He could draw this out forever, and fully intends to, if Charlie doesn't give in and ask nicely.

Considering that they're both extremely stubborn, and neither like to lose a power struggle, it could be an uphill battle. That hardly bothers him, though, not as he's trying his damnedest to make Charlie whimper and moan just with one finger.]

Thought you said yous was gonna fuck me.

[He's squirming hard under him, but biting back any whimpers, still.]

I seem to recall telling you to ask nicely.

[Maybe what Charlie needs is another finger added to the mix, then, while his other hand holds Charlie's hip tightly, fingers dug in. The hand might be gripping hard, but it's also serving the purpose of pinning Charlie slightly -- not much, but enough so that he can feel like he's in control here.]

[His hand grips around Meyer's neck again as he holds back the urge to groan hard.]

I don't gotta ask. I know how bads you fucking want it.

Yeah, maybe. But I could do this all day.

[That's true, partially. But it's also true that the hand around his neck pretty much has him groaning, too. He's not sure he should enjoy that quite as much as he does, but he's not questioning it, because he's too damn busy trying to get that groan out of Charlie that he knows he's suppressing.]

[The best he can do is turn it into a sharp gasp in when Meyer moves his fingers.]

Fuck.

[Goddammit, he wasn't meant to let that one slip. He retaliates by digging his fingers in further and rocking into Meyer's cock again.]

Come on, Meyer. Fuck me.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject