[The answer brings Oren a little more of what he searches for in each of their encounters. What he searches for in any relationship. It's warming, and he smiles for it, switching to the other leg even as his hand caresses further.]
You truly should be more careful.
[It's barely a whisper against skin, but it's meant to be caring. His lips touch down and that's meant to seem gentle, even with the way he nips and the force with which he sucks. His actions contradict what he's doing here. He treats Mattias like a treasure only meant for him.
A part of him wonders why it has to be more than this. Why he'll eventually have to reconsider things back home and how it will go. Why he feels it's so wrong to embrace the swelling in his chest over Mattias, and why he does it anyway.
This is a game, isn't it? A bit of fun between lovers, whether Mattias wanted to admit that's what they were or not. His hand slides up further, and his mouthing against the skin of his inner thigh gets more exaggerated. He'd like to see him get incredibly hard just from this. He'd love to drive him towards his own eagerness and see where he'd take it.
But somehow, he'd be just as pleased if it ended after these hickeys. If they spent the rest of the night lusting for each other between small, intimate motions. If the work up was slow or fast-- it didn't matter. Mattias was here.
Oren's eyes close to the feeling as he works, and once the next hickey is made, he moves onto the next with ease. Peppers the inside of his thighs with marks of varying sizes and intensity. From the looks of things, Oren is very much into this, and the touches of his fingers only spell out care.]
[Mattias is enraptured. Oren is a painter, dashing marks across the canvas of his skin in a predetermined composition framed by the clothing he picked out. Everything is set. Everything tailored to be Oren's perfect vision. His ideal.
It's something Mattias never thought he'd be and, idly, he wonders how he got here. How he transformed from an annoyance into a precious commodity. Something further than an object of desire that could be discarded on the lightest whim. Now, he was elevated. Something to keep and keep close.
He doesn't worry anymore if it's genuine. Not when it's like this, with Oren prostrating before him, scattering kisses up his thighs like a holy offering.
No, now he only gasps and hums, the hand in Oren's hand smoothing down his cheek and guiding him away from his legs and into a slow, heated kiss.]
[The touch is so gentle that it's easy to pull away from the endings of his work and lean up. Lips meet in slow passion, and Oren places both of his hands at the top of Mattias' thighs now. He stays lower like this, appreciating the exaggerated angle that they meet.
He doesn't pull back until he runs out of breath, stopping with a quick and quiet gasp. Fingers curl into skin and slide higher up his thighs, slipping under the hem of his sweater.]
Mattias. [His eyes open slightly, stopping at only halfway as he watches him. His lips, and then up to his eyes.] Such short time apart feels like centuries now.
And yet we make amends so quickly. Some would criticize me for that. [He speaks with a smile but his words hold slight regret, the fear of judgment still clinging to them. His thumbs rub circles into Oren's cheeks, and his gaze slips back into loving.]
I'm beginning to see the uses for your sweater. I'm warming up to it.
[He hears that in his tone, and it hurts more than it should. Mattias' hesitance feel like a cut to him rather than anything justified. He raises a hand and cups it over Mattias', tilting his head into the touches.]
I'm only grateful.
[His words are soft and hold a genuine strain, but he smiles. And it widens into something warmer at mention of the sweater. He leans into Mattias, kissing at his chin as his whole body leans against him.]
You like it, then? [His hand smooths over his thigh, under the hem of the sweater.] It warms me, as well.
[His smile softens as if in apology. It might be a trick, it might be manipulation, but that strained tone hurts him all the same. One hand leaves his face to smooth down his arm, encouraging it to continue its caresses.]
You're paraphrasing. I never said it warmed me. My legs are quite chilled. Can't you feel them?
[He raises one and pushes it against Oren's body. See? Feel how cold he is?]
[With Mattias' hand smoothing away, Oren frees the one that had been covering it. Reaching back, he smooths down along his cold leg, his hands certainly warm in comparison.]
Then it's lucky I have warmth to spare. The sweater will wrap your chest, and me, your legs. A fine arrangement.
[He laughs, rubbing his hand a little faster to create friction. It's teasing more than anything else. The true affection lies in the way his other hand slides up further and curves around to grope at his ass once more.]
I'll warm you, but don't let your drink go to waste. I have plenty other areas to kiss. [Another laugh, and he proves it with a light, teasing kiss over his heart, on top of that sweater. That horrible endearing sweater.]
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no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 07:47 am (UTC)You truly should be more careful.
[It's barely a whisper against skin, but it's meant to be caring. His lips touch down and that's meant to seem gentle, even with the way he nips and the force with which he sucks. His actions contradict what he's doing here. He treats Mattias like a treasure only meant for him.
A part of him wonders why it has to be more than this. Why he'll eventually have to reconsider things back home and how it will go. Why he feels it's so wrong to embrace the swelling in his chest over Mattias, and why he does it anyway.
This is a game, isn't it? A bit of fun between lovers, whether Mattias wanted to admit that's what they were or not. His hand slides up further, and his mouthing against the skin of his inner thigh gets more exaggerated. He'd like to see him get incredibly hard just from this. He'd love to drive him towards his own eagerness and see where he'd take it.
But somehow, he'd be just as pleased if it ended after these hickeys. If they spent the rest of the night lusting for each other between small, intimate motions. If the work up was slow or fast-- it didn't matter. Mattias was here.
Oren's eyes close to the feeling as he works, and once the next hickey is made, he moves onto the next with ease. Peppers the inside of his thighs with marks of varying sizes and intensity. From the looks of things, Oren is very much into this, and the touches of his fingers only spell out care.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 09:17 pm (UTC)It's something Mattias never thought he'd be and, idly, he wonders how he got here. How he transformed from an annoyance into a precious commodity. Something further than an object of desire that could be discarded on the lightest whim. Now, he was elevated. Something to keep and keep close.
He doesn't worry anymore if it's genuine. Not when it's like this, with Oren prostrating before him, scattering kisses up his thighs like a holy offering.
No, now he only gasps and hums, the hand in Oren's hand smoothing down his cheek and guiding him away from his legs and into a slow, heated kiss.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 03:49 am (UTC)He doesn't pull back until he runs out of breath, stopping with a quick and quiet gasp. Fingers curl into skin and slide higher up his thighs, slipping under the hem of his sweater.]
Mattias. [His eyes open slightly, stopping at only halfway as he watches him. His lips, and then up to his eyes.] Such short time apart feels like centuries now.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 04:48 am (UTC)I'm beginning to see the uses for your sweater. I'm warming up to it.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:03 am (UTC)I'm only grateful.
[His words are soft and hold a genuine strain, but he smiles. And it widens into something warmer at mention of the sweater. He leans into Mattias, kissing at his chin as his whole body leans against him.]
You like it, then? [His hand smooths over his thigh, under the hem of the sweater.] It warms me, as well.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:13 am (UTC)You're paraphrasing. I never said it warmed me. My legs are quite chilled. Can't you feel them?
[He raises one and pushes it against Oren's body. See? Feel how cold he is?]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:19 am (UTC)Then it's lucky I have warmth to spare. The sweater will wrap your chest, and me, your legs. A fine arrangement.
[He laughs, rubbing his hand a little faster to create friction. It's teasing more than anything else. The true affection lies in the way his other hand slides up further and curves around to grope at his ass once more.]
I'll warm you, but don't let your drink go to waste. I have plenty other areas to kiss. [Another laugh, and he proves it with a light, teasing kiss over his heart, on top of that sweater. That horrible endearing sweater.]