Reverse Jake: > Pounce boyfriend.

[fightingcargos]

[You never thought you would be the kind of fella who would stand idly by while someone beat the crap out of your heart's darling. Turns out, you're not! You're the kind of fella who beats the crap out of said darling himself.]

[You leap into Dirk's personal space, guns ablaze, and attempt to make up for his superior speed with your superior firepower.]

Take THAT you studmuffin!!

Comments

[sickheartbeats]

[You begin to hold him in the kiss by his hair, even if your lips break from his to draw the occasional, jagged breath, only for you to delve in once more. You want him so much it almost scares you, so you cling on to the familiar heat of his mouth.]

[fightingcargos]

[Your brain is now an idle chum!]

Jake: > Growl.

[sickheartbeats]

[Oh, fuck.]

Jake...

[fightingcargos]

[You bring your hands to his shoulders, clawing down his back. Your hips rock against his, and your breath stutters out.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You hiss and arch your back, hips grinding into his unelegantly as your fingers tighten in his hair.]

[fightingcargos]

[Your voice has a strange, vibrating tone in it. It's partly the echoes of the shower, and partly the fact that you are quieter and raspier than usual. You cannot qualify it well, because you are TOO HORNY TO FUNCTION.]

Dirk...

[sickheartbeats]

[You have a feeling that if you don't ask RIGHT NOW, the two of you will get horribly carried away in the best of ways, and that's not what you promised him. Truth is, if he changed his mind and wanted you to grind him into the wall, you would be just as fine with that. All you need is a word.

Your voice comes out similarly husky.]

What do you want?

[fightingcargos]

You.
Nngh. You are perfect.

[sickheartbeats]

You already have me, you charming idiot.

[fightingcargos]

I want to kiss you all the time.
I wish there were two of you so i could kiss you both.
Fuck me.

[sickheartbeats]

[Somehow, he makes perfect sense to you. You whine softly as you bring yourself away from his mouth, kissing his shoulder, and delivering a decided tug to his side, almost immediately fitting yourself along his back to make up for the shift in closeness.

Then it's like someone hit the pause button in your frantic endeavors, because this is important, this part. Your grip on his hips is tight, and you need him to move into a wider stance. It's a miracle you can tell up from down.]

[fightingcargos]

[You spread your feet apart just this side of shoulder width. You know he likes your butt, you have to be right about that, you want him to want this, beyond the shadow of a doubt.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You make one embarrassing little sound at the sight of him spreading himself out for you, and you kiss the nape of his neck, nuzzling his hairline as you grip and guide yourself. It helps not to watch, right now.]

Swear you'll tell me if it hurts.

[fightingcargos]

*Nods!!!*

[sickheartbeats]

Alright.
Here goes.

[You take a deep breath as the tip of your cock brushes delicate skin, and you spend an accidentally teasing moment trying to figure out how to push because there's so little give, you thought you had prepared him well --

With the help of your fingers, you manage a start, stretching him open on the head and willing away the stars in your vision.]

[fightingcargos]

[You twist your back to watch him, comitting every twitch of his muscle and shift and his expression to memory. You can't forget this. Not ever.]

[It starts out feeling welcome--something to return your body to normal, after the absence of fingers. This is larger than you felt before, however, and so you actually have to focus on not tensing up around him. You attempt an even breath, and it comes out a sigh.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You struggle to keep your eyes on him, and you slide your fingers away when you no longer feel like you're going to glide out of place, gripping his hips tightly.

Something gives when the head of your cock slides past the tight ring of muscle and you pause to scrape together the last of your willpower, ears trained on his breathing pattern.]

[fightingcargos]

[A shudder races up your spine and makes your hips twitch, pressing back ever so slightly onto him.]

Ah! Mmmn...

[sickheartbeats]

[Feeling him push back is all the reassurance you need to meet him halfway, your hips controlled in a way neither your breathing nor your mouth is, decking his shoulders out in feeble, damp kisses.]

[fightingcargos]

Gah...
Good...

[sickheartbeats]

[You should have installed some fucking mirrors in the shower. This is cruel in the best of ways.]

Almost -- haah.

[fightingcargos]

Good?
You feel good?

[Dirk need feel good. Dirk nice.]

[sickheartbeats]

Yes.
I can't fuckin' think straight, Jake.

[You say it like an accusation, which all things considered, IT IS. What is this boy reducing you to?

You slide yourself home and that settles it. You are never leaving again. Instead, you curl over his back and hold onto him.]

[fightingcargos]

[You pretty much scream in pleasure, and he's barely done anything yet in the grand scheme of sex things!!!!!! THIS SEX IS ALREADY TOO SEXY.]

Aah!

[sickheartbeats]

[Where he grows more vocal you go quieter, all soft murmurs under your breath as you boggle at the feel of your hips coming into contact with his ass. Your mind feels numb, the rest of you alight.

You haven't even moved yet. You're not sure how to gauge when you can.]

Oh god, oh fuck. . .