latermaybe | For Elio

For Elio

As summer drew to a close, the new semester gearing up and the anniversary of my third year in Darrow approaching, I couldn't help but think back on my conversation with Sihyun at Pride. My reaction to the news of his engagement has nagged at the back of my mind since the Spring. Even more so, I was rattled by my later admission that the planning of a wedding, and the stress and attention it would bring, was something I instinctively shrank from.

It made me quiet and contemplative, and while I could hide such things in the first weeks of the semester, I knew now that Elio would've noticed.

So, tonight, I made tea. I bought a box of pastries we both liked. Our dinner was small, intimate, as it usually was. Comfortable. Content. I was happy, and making a change felt unwise, but I knew we were both waiting for the other to do something. Say something.

And it needed to be me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Fair enough," I agreed, grinning against his neck, my arms sliding around him. He giggled, squirming away from my, his hair tickling my nose. I ducked my head to bite at his shoulder, holding him tight.

"I don't know. I think I could probably do better," I teased him, rolling him over onto his back, my lips against the hollow of his throat.

If the bite to my shoulder didn’t send a spark of arousal through me, the way that Oliver so smoothly flips our positions certainly does. My giggle turns into a breathy sigh and I put my hands on his head, fingers carding through his soft hair.

“I don’t remember what we were talking about,” I tell him, laughing softly and tipping my head back as his lips find the sensitive spot on my neck. My mouth falls open at the same time as my thighs, making room for his hips between them. “But keep doing that.”

Laughing, I said, "Invitations? I don't know." Smiling as his knees parted to make room for me, I settled against him, making my way leisurely down the slope of his long neck.

"Announcements. Very. Important. Planning," I said, punctuating each word with another lazy kiss, my lips working their way down his neck and then along the sharp rise of his collar bone.

“Mm, bragging,” I reply as my arms curl around his shoulders, holding on but not tightly enough to keep him from his downward trajectory. My lips are swollen from his thorough kisses and I pull the bottom one between my teeth as he kisses down my neck, stubble brushing across my sensitive skin.

“Ooh, I get to have a new suit made,” I add happily, sliding my hands along his smooth skin, up the back of his neck and into his hair. “And then you’ll get to take it off of me.”

His mouth travels across the hollow of my throat and along the bone just underneathc and I lift one foot to slide my toes over his ankle and the muscle in his calf. “We’ll bring some cake home and you can lick frosting off of me.”

Whether he meant for the party later, or if he was already dreaming of a larger ceremony than the two of us at City Hall, I had a feeling I was going to give in to whatever he wanted. He was so happy, giddy and warm in my arms, I couldn't conceive of denying him.

"You do enjoy making a mess with food," I agreed with a low chuckle, my mouth traveling along the dip of his breastbone.

“Why not combine two of my favorite things?” I reply with a laugh, shifting up onto one elbow so I can look down at his face. “Too bad we don’t have any peaches.”

There’s a grin in my voice, along with an obvious fondness. Nothing in the world, not music or food or wine, makes me anywhere near as happy as simply being in Oliver’s vicinity does.

“You have a very lovely mouth,” I murmur softly, tilting my head and gently drawing his hair back from his face, thumb tracing span of his forehead. “And somehow I live in a world where you use it on me every day.”

With laughter of my own, I arched a brow, smirking faintly as I asked, "Is that a hint?"

I nipped at the heel of his hand, grinning. "It's not a very subtle one."

No, peaches weren't in season, but we'd always made do with just each other.

"I meant it in more of a general sense," I reply, chuckling and tracing my thumb along his bottom lip, pressing it gently to the sharp line of his bottom teeth. "But if you want to take it as one, I won't stop you."

The fact that Oliver wants to suck me off, despite him doing so regularly, still feels like such a surprising thing. That overwhelmed teen from our first time together still lives somewhere inside of me and goes all fluttery and shocked each time it happens. Taking Oliver for granted, any part of him, is not something that I could ever have it in me to do.

"You could fuck me again after," I say in a low voice, giving him a coy smile as I rock my hips up against his chest. "Does that sound nice?"

Crawling lower, I chuckled softly, kissing his belly, and the sharp edge of his hipbone. Taking him in hand, I stroked him slowly, eyes on his face, my gaze flickering briefly to the bedside table. My eyes widened a bit, and I let out a huff of laughter.

"I think we're still recording," I reminded him, just before ducking to swallow him down.

Oliver moves further down the bed and my cock gets harder in Pavlovian response. My breath catches with anticipation and I shift up onto both elbows to get a better look, mouth going slack as his fingers wrap around me. The look on his face catches me by surprise and I turn to follow his gaze, feeling my own eyes widen at the sight of my phone still propped up on the nightstand. I had completely forgotten, but before I can really register an opinion about it, Oliver's mouth is on my cock and there is nothing in the world that could distract me from that.

"Oh, fuck," I groan out, dropping back down onto the bed. My head hits the pillow and I put one arm up over it, reaching down with the other to push Oliver's hair back from his face so it can be more clearly seen by the camera. "I'll move it to a protected folder on my computer tomorrow."

My words come out gaspy and a little garbled, and I hiss through my teeth as he slurps around my cock. Fuck, he's incredible at this. "Maybe edit a special video together for you as a Hannukah gift."

Pulling back with a gasp, I continued to stroke him, and before I could think better of it, I found myself saying, "If you're going to do that, then I want some footage of you fucking me."

Without waiting for a response, I swallowed him back down, cheeks hollowed and head bobbing, though it was more a performance for him than for the camera. I pressed further until the head of his cock stretched the back of my throat, gagging softly, holding there until I had to pull off to breathe.

"Oh my fucking God," I groan out, laughing breathlessly as he takes my cock into his mouth like a fucking porn star. His eyes close and I reach for the phone, dragging in a shuddering breath as I position the camera so that he's perfectly in frame, his face and my cock, which I only catch a glimpse of before he's sinking down, down, down until I'm all the way in his throat.

"That's it, baby," I say indulgently, both for him and the camera, and we both take a deep breath as he pulls off of me. There's a line of saliva stretching from the head of my cock to his bottom lip, and I glance down at the phone screen just in time to see it break.

"Do you want me to come in your mouth or your ass?" I ask in Italian, holding the phone in one hand as I reach out to cup his chin with the other. "You can have whatever you want, love of my life."

Groaning around him, I doubled my efforts, swallowing around him, only to pull off with another gasp. I climbed ungainly up his body, deciding, "You're fucking me," while I fumbled in the sheets for the discarded lube.

"Tell me how you want me," I asked. I might've been bigger than him, stronger, but sometimes, all I wanted was for him to move me how he wanted, to use me how he wanted. And if we were going to be crazy enough to film this, I wanted to take full advantage.

"That's what I hoped you'd say," I reply with a grin, taking the lube from him and then pushing hard at his side so he falls over and I can slip off of the bed. "I want you on your hands and knees, pesca."

I wink at him to let him know that I caught that needy look in his eyes, the same one so often seen in mine. I know what he wants, and I have no problem giving it to him.

I end the current video and start a new one, then position the phone on the nightstand again, checking the screen to make sure that the bed is fully in frame. My throat goes dry at the sight of Oliver there, all big and lean and strong, and all mine. My cock is still rock hard and jutting out from my body, shining wet with Oliver's spit, and I take a deep breath so it's not over too soon.

"Look over at the camera, darling," I tell him, smiling widely over at him as he does. "You want to get fucked by your fiancé? I really do think you've earned it after giving me this lovely ring."

Amazed that he could still so thoroughly surprise me, I laughed softly, arranging myself on hands and knees and turning to look directly at the camera, as instructed. "Is that all I've earned?"

It was fun to play a little coy, but while it was directed towards the camera, it was all for him.

"What are these videos for?" I asked, "When I'm lonely on my next university conference across town?"

The question makes me pause on my way back toward the bed, thinking of the videos and photos in a protected folder on my computer. It took me months to be able to look at them without crying after Oliver disappeared and ever since he’s come back, I’ve taken more than ever, assuming that he’ll chalk it up to me being more tech savvy.

I recover quickly, blinking a few times as I head over to the bed, reaching out to slide my hand along his back. That’s not what I want these videos to be for, and I have to live for the hope that I’ll never have to miss him like that again.

“We can watch them when we’re old and wrinkly,” I tell him with a chuckle, reaching between his thighs so I can grab the inside of his leg and tug them apart, twisting him so his ass is a little angled toward the camera. “And I suppose you’ve earned an extra treat.”

That said, I put my hands on his ass and spread his cheeks apart, leaning down to lick deliberately at the tight clench of his hole.

I had a sense that I'd said the wrong thing, inadvertently bringing up memories of the times we'd been separated, both by my voluntary stupidity and forces beyond us. He shook it off quickly, and I decided to stifle my apology, for the time being.

Chuckling softly, I said, "A reminder of us in our prime, I see." Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his eyes, giving him a softer smile than the moment might've outwardly called for. But then he arranged me for the camera, reminding us both of the game we'd started.

And then there was his tongue, and I could think of little else. "Oh my God," I groaned, dropping to my elbows, my cheeks flushing at the thought of what we must look like in that moment.

There’s that quiet moment, our eyes meeting with soft smiles, because no matter what else is going on, we’ll always check in with each other. I let him see that I’m okay, and then get back to what I started.

Oliver loves getting rimmed and I love doing it because one of those sick things, those intimate things, that make my cock throb between my legs. He always goes red and shivers, even after all this time, and it’s adorable and sexy all at once.

“Nope, just Elio,” I tease, nipping playfully at his ass cheek before licking at him again, working him open on only my tongue until I can press it in deep, sucking gently at the rim of his hole. I pull away and rub at it with my fingertips, mouthing along the curve of his ass.

“Maybe I just want you to be able to see what you look like when I do this,” I murmur in a low voice, leaning over to grab the lube and slick my fingers. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Oliver, when any part of me is inside of you.”

Laughing breathlessly, I let my forehead drop to the tangled sheets, ass shamelessly in the air. Pushing past a wave of self-consciousness, I settled into it quickly enough, and by the time he reached past me to grab the lube, I'd completely forgotten my initial embarrassment.

"Somehow, I don't know if watching myself will hold quite the same appeal as watching you," I teased, lifting my head and smirking playfully at him over my shoulder. "But you could prove me wrong."

“But I want to watch you watch yourself,” I tell him, smiling and shooting him a wink when he looks over his shoulder. Our eyes lock and I press my middle finger into him, sliding it in to the knuckle. “Imagine how pink you’d get.”

After moving my finger in and out a few times, I replace it with two and hum at the tight stretch of him. I have to think of awful things to keep from getting too turned on, like that time that I accidentally walked in on Mafalda naked, and I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Do you need another, darling?” I ask in a low voice, sliding my free hand across his lower back as I press my fingers very deliberately against his prostate. “Or are you ready?”

His finger slid into me and I let out a low whine, mouth falling open and my eyes fluttering shut. Soon, he'd pressed in with two, and I rocked back against him, mouth dry and my cock lurching.

"Now. I'm ready, now,," I said, because I wanted to feel it— the burning stretch of my body making way for his cock, the moment where discomfort always gave way to exquisite pleasure.

“Okay, okay,” I soothe, sliding my hand along his lower back as I slowly withdraw my fingers, gripping his hip to tug him a little closer to the edge of the bed. I put one knee on the bed and leave my other foot on the floor, then slick my cock and toss the tube on the floor somewhere.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” After taking a moment to marvel at him, big and needy and all mine, I grab his hip and position myself behind him, rubbing the head of my cock against his hole a few times before slowly pushing in, mouth falling open with a groan as my hips press forward, not stopping until our bodies are flush together. “Oliver.”

I let out a low, shuddering sigh as he settled against me, cock impossibly deep and our hips pressed flush. I'd forgotten about the video. I'd forgotten about everything but him, his cock, and what my name sounded like on his lips.

"You feel amazing," I countered, managing to twist enough to catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder. "Elio, fuck." Rising up onto my hands, I pushed back against him, playfully demanding.

"Hey now," I admonish playfully, slapping lightly at Oliver's ass when he pushes back against me. "I'm the one running this show."

He looks over his shoulder at me and even though I am literally inside of him, I still swoon at the sight-- bright blue eyes and wavy blonde hair, strong jaw and devastating All-American good looks. He's all mine. How is it that he's all mine?

Stunned as I am, I remember the look that Oliver gave me when we started, the one burning with a certain sort of need, so I lean forward and wrap my hand around his elbow, giving it a tug hard enough that he's forced to bend it. "I'll fuck you how I want to, pesca. Just how you need."

"God. Okay, okay," I said, laughing breathlessly, his teasing slap sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my cock. He loomed over me, his skinny pressed against my spine, and yanked me back down onto my elbows.

Ass in the air, I let out a low, desperate whine. Still, I managed to goad him, just a little. "Then do it, beautiful," I said, my head ducked and my smile hidden.

Edited 2023-11-25 02:54 (UTC)

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