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[personal profile] nowheretowns 2023-11-02 07:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Claude proceeds to... lean in close once more and kiss him, but not in any way that makes sense (as in, on the mouth, tongue first). Instead, he kisses him so softly that it makes him blink, several times in a row, staring at the contours of the other man's face. Forehead. The corner of his mouth. Just that soft press of his lips and the heat of him. For a long moment, he can't even think about how aroused he is, about the promise of Claude's mouth around his naked cock; instead, this strange adventure of Claude's lips, finding their own little key spots on his face, goes into the mental pile of I don't know what this is but I want it, along with the pink teddy bear Claude gave away to the tiny girl and the way he entangles their fingers, even when they're both cold and the heat barely transfers as a byproduct.

Senseless, ridiculous things.

Wordlessly, he follows along as Claude urges him onto his back. Lying down, he shifts a little against the mattress, feeling the grounding solidity of the bed - the frame, firm against the floor and the floor, too, firm as the building and the walls around them. He leans his head back for a moment as Claude moves above him, before he realises that it feels wrong (too much, too naked) to lie on his back without being able to see him. He raises himself slightly onto his elbows instead, looking down as Claude licks his way down his chest, tonguing one nipple and making his skin prickle from the feel of it.

Eyes narrowing as he watches, Jean Louis curls his right hand against the back of Claude's head, running his fingers slowly through his hair. He doesn't urge him downwards or pull at him, not while he's still got enough blood left in his head to think. Claude, he thinks, must have a plan. Something he wants, something he'd like.

It's an easy thing, then, to simply follow along. ]
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[personal profile] nowheretowns 2023-11-02 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Jean Louis watches the entire way - as Claude kisses his way down his front, over his midriff. Further down. Breath catching in his throat, he swallows to clear it, his cock twitching desperately. It doesn't take Claude long at all to get where they both want him to go; it doesn't feel hurried but intentional, just knowing where you want to go and getting there. He likes it. It makes sense. His eyelashes flutter briefly at the feel and visual as Claude starts mouthing against the length of his cock. His lips are so wet, wet and soft, and the closer he gets to the head, the hotter they feel. He spreads his legs a little, just to feel himself balancing against it, with Claude above him and his mouth going up - up... ]

Mm. That's nice.

[ He keeps running his fingers through Claude's curls, his grip tightening a fraction when the other man maps him out with his lips, acting like he's been so hungry for it and still, keeping himself at bay - this is different, though, this is the kind of thing you do when you've got something delicious in front of you and you want to savour it as slowly as you can bear. It's a great look on him if a little... maddening. His breath coming out faster yet, Jean Louis forces himself not to move as Claude begins licking the tip of his cock. The stimulation is crazy, however, pointed and isolated and enough that he wants so badly to squirm that he almost can't stand it. His cock leaks precum beneath Claude's tongue.

Instead, he curls his other hand against the sheet so hard that his lower arm trembles from it, his bad little finger aching enough to provide at least a small contrast. The sting sharpens his focus and he tilts his head a little to the side, watching Claude enjoy himself. His breathing evens out slightly.

Truly a great look on him, yes. ]
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[personal profile] nowheretowns 2023-11-03 02:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Claude pulls back only briefly but the small pause, that sudden absence of touch, makes him shudder involuntarily. It's not just need at this point, the heat in his belly - it's urge, harsh and rather unforgiving, and his hand tightens in the sheets again, harder yet, in lieu of tightening in Claude's hair. He watches as the other man catches his gaze deliberately, his own narrowing to slits as Claude leans in and opens his mouth, wide, oh, and he looks so wet like this, his mouth is all pink and glistening - ]

Ah! [ And hoarser: ] Fuck.

[ His thigh muscles tense up beneath Claude's hand, the way he strokes his skin oddly soothing, like there's anything to soothe right now, what a ridiculous thought - but he likes it, regardless. Some odd, hidden and unknowable part of him likes it. The fact that he's even noticing speaks volumes, considering the fact that Claude's taking him into his mouth. Breathing roughly, shifting just enough on his buttocks to re-direct some of the tension building up within him at the feel of it, he stares at Claude's mouth, at the round 'o' of his lips, and his cock lodged between them. It's a tight fit. Snug.

Fuck, this is how any man would want to die.

The other man takes him in all the way to the back of his mouth and though he could easily push in the rest of the way, force his way down, he stays perfectly still, simply letting Claude set the pace, saliva running down the length of his shaft and pooling over his balls. When he starts jerking him off, though, he can't quite hold back - neither the moan from deep within his throat or the slight, slight thrust of his hips upwards. Luckily, Claude's begun to draw back at this point and he only ends up thrusting along his tongue, briefly, before he stops himself.

Then, Claude sinks back down.

He realises only then that he's actively gripping Claude's hair now between his fingers, hard enough to pull. He relaxes his grip quickly, his mind somehow anchoring itself to the feel of Claude's hand against his thigh, the gentle patterns of his fingers. Breathe. He does so, slowly, and as he exhales, the pleasure seemingly doubles. Fuck. Fuck, that's crazy. Claude's mouth is so warm and tight and he feels like he's melting into him, mind and essence and whatever's left after that.

Nothing. There's nothing left he won't want to put into him. ]
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[personal profile] nowheretowns 2023-11-03 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Claude... keeps going. He's basically just holding on at this point. Trying desperately to keep his breathing at least somewhat even, Jean Louis loses that particular fight somewhere between Claude beginning to bob his head up and down (shit, rhythm, oh, shit) and him, cupping his balls and rolling them between his fingers. He's ridiculously sensitive in any and all possible places and Claude's treating him with just the right kind of carefulness, the kind that he couldn't describe to anyone if they'd asked. It's fortunate, really, that Claude never has. He just understands, it seems, and Jean Louis still isn't certain how that works, only that it does. Fuck, does it work.

When Claude moans and shifts, it takes his pleasure-addled brain a few seconds to realise that he isn't touching himself at all - he's using both his hands. Jean Louis cranes his neck a little to see, having to blink to focus enough at this point, and - yes. Claude's cock looks painfully hard, red at the tip, and he licks his lips without thinking, just as Claude gives a particularly good suck.

Gasping, he clears his throat, swallows for good measure and manages in a tone of voice that's nowhere near even or impressive: ]


You - you need to - [ He groans and shifts back on the bed, his left arm trembling from holding himself up. ] - you should touch yourself. Enjoy it with me.

[ He runs his hand through Claude's hair again, slowly now, before cupping the back of his neck. Then, slowly, he leans himself backwards until he can't go any further, back fully against the bed, and allows himself to simply... lay down. Relax. The throbbing in his shoulder immediately fades into the background, the wetness of Claude's mouth around his cock and the added sensation of his fingers against him - thigh, balls - creating the most perfect pace, not too fast, gentle, because Claude is like that.

Consequently, when they're together, so is he.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, his hips shifting very, very slightly upwards whenever Claude takes him into his mouth, creating that slide, the sense of friction between the other man's lips. His breathing is loud, ragged. ]
nowheretowns: (14)

[personal profile] nowheretowns 2023-11-04 01:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Claude whimpers (whimpers, fuck, what's anyone supposed do at this point?) and Jean Louis hears him shifting slightly, the hand against his thigh disappearing. Then follows the sound of the other man working himself, fast and desperate, matching the growing feeling of nownownow in his own body and the smell of sex intensifies between them, the urgency. Oh. He groans and shifts on his back, thrusting upwards at a pace now, feeling the slick glide of Claude's mouth around him, it's fucking perfect.

Then, Claude takes his hand off his balls and the sense of impending climax dissipates ever so slightly, it's just the difference between touch and no-touch, a minor sensory disruption and though he does squirm very slightly, it's doesn't truly matter, Claude's mouth is definitely getting him there, getting him there fast. He holds onto the back of Claude's neck, fingertips digging into his skin, following the motion of his head as the other man works himself up and down his length.

Just as he closes in on that edge, like he can feel it, Claude presses his fingers in between his buttocks, rubbing the rim of his arsehole and making sparks fly from his lower body and up his spine. Eyes snapping open, he stares up at the ceiling wordlessly, breathlessly. His hand tightens harshly against the back of Claude's neck as he tumbles over that edge, pleasure surging through him. He doesn't even manage to consider the notion that Claude might not want to swallow; he comes in his mouth, filling him up, his hips thrusting upwards, inwards. Moaning, he pushes his head back against the pillow, feeling that restless urge to keep thrusting, deeper and harder, to make himself empty, but this, at least, he manages to control; instead, he sinks down against the bed, his muscles shaking.

His mind becomes blissfully blank. ]