(no subject)

[latermaybe]

From here.

Falling back on the reclined seats, I gripped his hips and dragged him closer, swallowing a strangled moan as the fabric of his trousers brushed against my painfully hard cock.

"You shouldn't have taken that off," I teased him, glancing at the tangle of clothes sliding to the floor. "I had this vision of fucking you with your suit on." I leaned up to bite at the curve of his jaw, grinning as my fingertips dipped below his waistband.

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[latermaybe]

The moment was charged, the air around us seeming to buzz with something new. I followed him through the store, and while I knew it hadn't always been his, I couldn't help but see him in every corner of it. Our first encounter in Darrow, after so many months of my own self-inflicted exile, happened right here.

On the stairs, he turned to look at me, his eyes soft, and I crowded in close, my arm slipping around his waist.

"Do you think anyone will blame you if you keep the shop closed tomorrow?"

[speakordie]

Oliver moves in close and I lean into him, laughing at his question as I lead him away from the stairs and deeper into the bookshop, behind some stacks and out of view of the window.

"If you think I scheduled myself to work tomorrow, you don't know me at all," I say with a laugh, slowly turning him around until he's pressed up against the used mystery novels. The scent of old books fills my nostrils as I lean in to kiss him, reaching up to rest my hand on his shoulder. "We aren't leaving the apartment tomorrow."

I kiss him again and then pull back to give him a playful smirk, sliding my hands across his broad chest as I gracefully sink to my knees in front of him.

"But we can start here," I murmur, dragging my hands down his stomach and tugging open his pants. "You have a long night ahead of you, after all."

[latermaybe]

I wanted to protest, even though I knew we were alone. We'd stolen kisses in more public places than a shuttered bookstore, but having my cock out in his place of business was a brand new experience. I laughed breathlessly, bracing a hand on the bookshelf in front of me, mystery paperbacks shuddering on their shelves.

"Wouldn't Romance be more appropriate?"

[speakordie]

"You're right," I tell him, nodding with mock seriousness as I rise up onto my knees and scoot back a little. Gripping the open fly of his slacks, I tug him away from the bookshelf and shift him clockwise to press him back against a perpendicular shelf of romance paperbacks.

I tug his slacks and underwear down over his ass, letting his cock spring free. My fingers curl around his cock and I lean in to brush my lips against the head, rubbing them back and forth almost reverently as my eyes fall shut. It smells like old paper and leather and him and me, sweat and come and us mixed together. I'd bottle that scent if I could.

"Keep your hands on the shelves," I tell him, looking up at his face as I open my mouth to drag the flat of my tongue over the head of his cock, swirling teasingly around it as I wait for him to spread himself out against the books, bathed only in moonlight.

[latermaybe]

Laughing as I was dragged down the narrow corridor of shelves and pressed back against the romance novels, I gasped at the drag of my slacks down my thighs, the warm curl of his fingers, the slick swipe of his tongue.

My hand gripped convulsively at his shoulder, and I blinked at his low, steady command, momentarily uncomprehending. With a huff of breath, I reached back to brace my hands against the shelves, knocking a worn paperback to the floor in the process.

"You're not making it easy," I warned, knowing that would only encourage him.

[speakordie]

When his hand goes to my shoulder, I pause what I'm doing and give him a playfully unimpressed look, waiting for him to do as I've asked. His words make me let out a low hum, lips buzzing against the head of his cock. Having him give me this power over him makes me feel warm all over. He's safe with me, and he knows it. For Oliver, that means so much.

"You said that you wanted me to take my time," I remind him, sliding my fist down his shaft and pressing the pad of my thumb in just above his balls. There's a certain spot there, and if I press it just right, he won't be able to come. I discovered this spot after lots of hands on research, and I'm happy to show it to him again tonight.

Once he's spread out against the shelves and looking down at me, I open my mouth and let his cock slide along my tongue, holding it there for a moment before slowly starting to suck him, bobbing my head and letting out a pleased hum.

[latermaybe]

"I did, didn't I?" I agreed, my voice caught in my throat. There was a pointed way he looked at me, the way he touched me, and my heart seemed to stutter in my chest in anticipation.

Neither of us had been particularly skilled at this, in our time together in Italy, but since that time, he had long surpassed me in skill. It was strange to think that all that practice had happened with me present, whether some other version of me or if it was a gap in my memory I'd never fill. Whatever the reason, I was greedy to reap the benefits.

[speakordie]

When we first started sleeping together again, I will admit that I had back a little. As much as I could, at least, with Oliver touching me. I didn't want to remind him of that lost time and ruin the moment, didn't want him to worry about feeling inadequate. I spent so much time overthinking things like that, and maybe it helped. Maybe it didn't.

All I know is that we've come far enough now that I no longer feel like that's necessary. Oliver is aware that I am more experienced than him now, more knowledgeable about sex and relationships. He knows that I learned all of this with him and maybe sometimes that knowledge will sting us both, but we can't change it. What I can do is be myself, this better version of Elio Perlman, and trust that he'll love me all over again.

His cock is heavy on my tongue, and for the first time since he's been back, I relax my throat tilt my chin to take him further, swallowing around the head of his cock as it sinks into my throat. My eyes water and I breathe out through my nose, looking up at him as my hand falls away from his cock to slide up his stomach instead.

[latermaybe]

"Oh my God," I murmured, my voice sounding astonished even to my own ears. I watched him, mouth slack, hands gripping uselessly at the shelves behind me. Outside the shop, I heard the muffled sounds of someone laughing out on the street. Cars rolled by, headlights casting the small, cramped shop in streaks of light and long, eerie shadows. Soon, I couldn't hear much of anything at all, besides my own breathing and the wet sound of his throat working over my cock.

It was the some of the keenest pleasure I'd ever felt, and I couldn't muster a word to tell him, my mouth open instead to let out a ragged groan.

[speakordie]

His reaction would make me smile if my mouth weren't full. Instead I just stare up at him, eyes shining and crinkling at the corners as I take him as deep as I can, throat full as I press my nose to the soft curls at the base of his cock. He smells so good, smells like home, and I breathe in deep through my nose before pulling off of his cock with a gasp. A thin strand of saliva draws taut between my bottom lip and his cock, shining in the moonlight before breaking, and I wrap my hand around his cock to press a kiss to the head of it, soft and reverent.

"Hm, I could make you come right here, but that wouldn't really be taking my time, would it?" After giving him another few strokes, I let go of his cock and pull myself to my feet, stretching my arms out to put my hands over his on the bookshelves. Smiling softly, I lean in to kiss him, licking into his mouth as I tug his hands away from the shelves to put them on my waist instead. "Let's go upstairs and I'll show you what else I can do with my mouth, pesca."

After kissing him one more time, I take his hand and wink at him before turning to pull him toward the stairs.

[latermaybe]

It was a herculean effort not to reach for him, to bury my hands in his hair, to give in to the urge to thrust into the willing vice of his throat. I was entirely gobsmacked when he pulled away, a whimper falling from my lips, bordering on mournful.

"Good," I rasped, my voice nearly unrecognizable to my own ears. "I don't know if I could've made it up the stairs if you'd done that for much longer."

Pulling my pants up around my hips, I hissed as I tucked myself back into my shorts, leaving my waistband unfastened as I followed him up to the apartment.

[speakordie]

As I unlock the door to let us inside, I have to take a deep breath to keep from just pressing him against the door and taking him right there. It's hard to stay composed when I want him so badly, and I can taste him on my tongue, but I know it'll be worth it at the end.

"You would have made it," I tell him as I turn around to start unbuttoning his shirt, smirking up at him and quirking a brow. "Because you can't come until I tell you to, remember?"

I give him another kiss as I tug his shirt back over his shoulders, biting at his chin as I toss it aside. My hands go to his face and I walk backwards as I kiss him, drawing him deeper into the room. My intention was to get us into the bedroom but I pause as we pass my piano, and I look over at it before stepping back from him and smiling at him. "Take off the rest of your clothes and put your hands on my piano, please."

[latermaybe]

"You're giving me a lot of credit, if you think I'm going to retain all my motor functions until I come," I volleyed back, nearly stumbling over my feet as he herded me deeper into his darkened apartment.

Chuckling softly, I kicked off my shoes, my socks, and stripped out of my pants, leaving them all in a haphazard pile on the floor. I turned to face the piano and rested my palms on the closed lid. The polished wood was cold beneath my palms, and I felt a shiver work its way down my spine. "Like this?"

[speakordie]

"You better, or I might have to punish you," I reply in a playfully low voice that makes it clear that I'm not taking this all that seriously. As he finishes undressing, I take off my jacket and then wriggle out of my slacks and underwear, standing naked as I watch him lean over the piano.

"Almost," I tell him quietly, pressing my hand to the base of his spine and slowly sliding it upward, feeling each vertebrate with my fingers until I get to the nape of his neck. Moving in behind him, I rest my chin against his shoulder and lean over him to grab his wrists, lifting them to rest just above the lid. After sliding the lid open, I press a kiss to the nape of his neck, letting him feel my cock against his hip as I lean over to reach around him and play a few low notes, letting the sound fill the space.

One hand plays a few more slow, lazy notes, drifting along the keys as I bend my knees to crouch behind him. Eventually, my hand falls away and I settle on my knees, sliding my palms up the backs of his thighs and grabbing his ass cheeks. I slide my thumbs up between them and spread him open to reveal a tight curl of muscle, watching it tighten in a greedy clench and smiling as I lightly press the pad of my thumb to it.

"I know your body just as well as I know this instrument," I say fondly, rubbing at his hole as I lean in to press a kiss to the swell of his ass, lightly dragging my bottom teeth along his skin. "I've mastered both, I think. I can make you both sing."

[latermaybe]

Perhaps that line would have been trite, were I to have heard it from anyone else. Instead, it was so quintessentially him that I felt heat rise to my cheeks. He teased me, played with me, love me, and while I couldn't make music like he could, for him, I was willing to try.

"As much as I love to hear you play, I think I'd like your undivided attention," I managed to tease breathlessly, careful not to scar the wood of his piano with blunt nails as he toyed with me.

I smiled fondly, even if he couldn't see it.

[speakordie]

"Greedy," I murmur fondly, reaching up to give one cheek a light slap. "But I suppose you've earned it."

Spreading him open again, I gather saliva on my tongue and lean in to drag it over his hole, feeling the muscle clench, feeling him tense up under my hands as they settle on his hips. We didn't do much of this in Italy. Perhaps it was a line neither of us were willing to cross, too sick, or maybe it just didn't really occur to us in all of our inexperience.

But I love doing this to him. I love how sick it is, licking him somewhere so intimate, somewhere that no one but me gets to see or touch. My hands slide over his hips and down the front of his thighs as I lap at him eagerly, moaning softly and stiffening my tongue to nudge the tip of it inside of him.

"I don't hear any singing," I tease when I pull back to take a breath, slapping his ass just a little harder this time. "I want to hear you, pesca. You make such beautiful sounds."

[latermaybe]

My knees threatened to buckle.

With a surprised huff, I shifted my weight, slumping further across his piano— the very same piano he'd first played for me in Italy.

"You're going to make me self-conscious," I said breathlessly. Teasing him, yes, but there was an edge of truth buried beneath. I'd never felt so exposed. I'd never expected to enjoy it, or to need more of him so desperately that I already wanted to beg for more. He slapped me again and I gasped, startled, red-faced and shocked and ravenously turned on. "Elio."

[speakordie]

"Oh, you don't have to feel like that with me," I murmur softly against his skin, kissing my way up to the dimples just above his ass. His reaction to the slap makes me smile, and I place my hand over the pink mark left behind as I straighten up to stand behind him, sliding my other hand up the length of his spine.

"I'm just as sick as you, remember?" I assure him in a low, fond voice as I press my palm between his shoulder blades to bend him a bit lower over the piano. The sight of him there makes me so hard that I can barely think, but this feels important. It's the first time that we've done something like this, at least the first that he'll remember, and I want to make it good. I know that I could make it so good.

"It's okay," I tell him, squeezing at his ass before giving it another quick slap, letting my other hand slide up toward the nape of his neck. "Tell me, pesca. Do you like it? I want to give you everything you like."