Odin (Owain) | Fire Emblem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowglitter) wrote2017-11-25 11:18 am
shadowglitter) wrote2017-11-25 11:18 am
PSL || poe/odin
WAY TO REJECT ME YOU FLIGHTY AIRBORN PIECE OF SHIT! WAY TO FUCK EVERYTHING UP FOR ME AND MY HEART, FOREVER AND EVER, ALWAYS UNTIL FOREVER
HEY YO YOU TOLD ME TO WRITE A LIST SO GUESS WHAT!!!!!! IT'S TIME FOR US TO GET FUNKY AS FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK
god i am not going to bother formatting this
TO DO LIST:
1. SEXTING FROM BOOT CAMP ringverse AU
2. prince/concubine AU - owain's the prince, poe's a concubine to the king, paranoia and political assassination ensues, etc etc etc etc etc
3. vampire hooker AU?? owain gonna get his gothic goth goth dick wet in that spooky vampire butt
4. HAHA BOOM WE'RE DOING IT I LINKED THE POST DOWN THERE
5. enemies of war AU - owain's a good guy on the bad guy side who almost loses his life trying to save poe even though he's an enemy soldier, poes like What, Shit, Damn, gay shit ensues
6. HNENENGH
7. ANGELS AND DEMONSSSSSSsss
8. 20s AU///?? YES. YES ALRIGHT
9. WW1 AU WHATS Up
10. ?? there was something that was supposed to go here from the kink meme
11. samurai champloo AU what up. chon'sin. Shit
12. bBODYSWAPPpappapp
long-term AU posts:
HEY YO YOU TOLD ME TO WRITE A LIST SO GUESS WHAT!!!!!! IT'S TIME FOR US TO GET FUNKY AS FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK
god i am not going to bother formatting this
TO DO LIST:
1. SEXTING FROM BOOT CAMP ringverse AU
2. prince/concubine AU - owain's the prince, poe's a concubine to the king, paranoia and political assassination ensues, etc etc etc etc etc
3. vampire hooker AU?? owain gonna get his gothic goth goth dick wet in that spooky vampire butt
4. HAHA BOOM WE'RE DOING IT I LINKED THE POST DOWN THERE
5. enemies of war AU - owain's a good guy on the bad guy side who almost loses his life trying to save poe even though he's an enemy soldier, poes like What, Shit, Damn, gay shit ensues
6. HNENENGH
7. ANGELS AND DEMONSSSSSSsss
8. 20s AU///?? YES. YES ALRIGHT
9. WW1 AU WHATS Up
10. ?? there was something that was supposed to go here from the kink meme
11. samurai champloo AU what up. chon'sin. Shit
12. bBODYSWAPPpappapp
long-term AU posts:
βββ PLEDGED
no subject
It breaks his heart, the way that Owain is looking at him.
But for for the first time in over a year, it breaks his heart in a way where the pain feels incredibly good. (Breaking from growing out of it bounds.) He reaches out, thumb brushing that reddened cheek, tracing Owain's cheekbone and brushing back into his hair and across his ear.
"I just want to be with you, Owain."
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It takes all his willpower not to cut Poe off, to interrupt what he's saying with a kiss or a hand beneath his clothes. He feels like he's standing over a cliff and looking down, adrenaline pumping through him and fear clutching at his throat, but he also feels safe, and how long has it been since he's felt like that?
He moves closer, so close that he can hear every breath Poe takes, and he leans in to draw his lips along Poe's neck. He presses soft, lingering kisses up to his jawline and stops, bringing his hands to Poe's waist and holding them there.
"Again."
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He feels his heart stop, for a fraction of a second, as Owain's lips draw against his throat, before starting again with a deafening lurch, slamming too quickly against his ribs. A year of repressed longing, causing his heart to race at the slightest fucking touch.
He's good, though. He stays still, just letting Owain slide into place, trying to regulate his own breathing and bring his heart back in line. Come on, Dameron. You're not sixteen.
When Owain's hands settled on his hips, he slid his hand further into the man's hair, fingernails scraping at his scalp.
"You going to make me repeat myself a hundred times, or are you going to kiss me?"
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He stumbles over himself, reddening quick until he's shaking his head to clear this. He just wants to touch Poe, to be with Poe, to either hear more things like that or just feel more things like that. He could collapse, right now, just from the electricity shooting from Poe's fingers into his scalp and down his spine, but he uses all the willpower he has to sit up straight and meet Poe's lips with his own.
It starts out easy, soft, chaste. It stays that way for about three seconds, before Owain is pulling on Poe's shirt and breaking the kiss just long enough to tear it over his head. He shrugs off his own shirt, mostly one armed, the other resting on Poe's chest, tracing over a scar with his thumb. He's surprised, that despite how jealous and possessive he's been - despite the awful, awful things he would think when he was alone and jerking off and thinking of Poe, things like is he as good as me or do you ever think of my cock when you're with him - that none of that fills his head right now.
All he can think about is how fucking beautiful Poe looks like this, waiting for him.
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He is surprisingly passive - he doesn't go for Owain's clothes, doesn't tug at his shirt or at his waistband. Owain seems very capable of getting rid of his clothes himself, and Poe is all too happy to just let it happen, though he does press into the kiss, deepening it. He breaks, whenever Owain has to pull away to do something - to speak.
"I just--" The first two words between their lips, before they are taken again with a low groan, "Want to-- be with you--"
Unable to continue to remain passive, his free hand presses against the small of Owain's bare back and drags him up against him.
"--Owain--"
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"I've fucking-- I fucking-- All I-- all I've ever-- wanted--"
He's in pieces, unable to string a coherent sentence together, and when he takes Poe in another kiss it's fucking hard, pressure and pain and clumsiness. He hisses in air as he moves down to kiss Poe's neck, sucking hard and biting down, leaving a mark in the same place he left it one of the first real times they fucked.
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"Nnngh--!" The aborted sound choked in his throat as Owain bit down, and the last of Poe's restraint was taken with it. He reaches out clumsily but with a very direct intent, his hand going straight for Owain's cock, gripping from the underside, his wrist rubbing against the partition between head and shaft, the the foreskin rolling with it as he began to stroke. He could never explain why or how Owain managed to stoke such a heated fire in him - every cell in his body suddenly alight with need. The wait had just made it worse. Because he knew, he knew how fucking perfect Owain felt and he knew he could have had this, at any time, if he's just stopped being a fucking idiot for thirty seconds, but it's not--
It's still not about the sex, somehow. Or at least not the pleasure.
It's for that moment where there's no space between them and nothing else in the universe.
"I'm such an-- idiot -- Owain, fuck, I've needed you so badly and I refused to fucking see it --"
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This whole thing is hard. Confusing. He doesn't know what tonight means for them, in the long term, what this means for them now, except that maybe they're both finding a way to be whole again. They'll run away together, like they said they would, but what comes after? He tilts his head back to bite softly at Poe's lower lip, and then he just rests there, forehead against forehead, breath ghosting over breath.
For a second all he can do is roll his hips into Poe's hand, gliding the length of him between the warm fingers taking hold, precum flowing heavily down his shaft, filling the air with the wet and obscene sounds of flesh on flesh. He's already so god damn close to hitting his climax that the only thing holding him back is willpower alone, and when he reaches down to lightly squeeze the head of Poe's cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip, the low and throaty groan he makes is exactly the same as it always was, back when they were together.
"Tell me--" He bucks a little too hard into Poe's hand, grunting like he's never been touched before. "Tell me you want me to fuck you."
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"Trying and being aren't-- aren't the same thing--"
He gets distracted, though, both by Owain's hand rolling over the head of his cock and by that groan that just sends a shuddering pulse of blood straight to his cock, throbbing beneath Owain's fingers.
He doesn't stop stroking him, but he does push Owain backwards a little, hand firmly on his shoulder, so that the man is forced to meet his eyes.
"I don't want you to fuck me, Owain," he says in a voice utterly laden with need. It might undermine the point, if he didn't continue: "I need you to make love to me."
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"I--"
It's rare, for him to be speechless, but he is, eyes flickering down and away as he struggles to accept the overwhelming purity and joy that bursts through his system. His hand on Poe's cock steadies, a little, but he slowly strokes down to his base only a few more times before letting go. He's smiling, kindly and softly and so, so, so fucking warmly, even as he brings his fingers to his mouth and drags his tongue along them, sliding them between his lips, getting them wet.
He looks at Poe briefly for permission, and then he's lowering his hand back between Poe's legs, slipping under him and pushing him down on his back with his other hand. He circles Poe's hole with the tip of his middle finger, closing the distance between them to leave a soft and reassuring kiss to his forehead, and it's agonizingly teasing, the way he doesn't enter Poe until he's fucking ready - it takes a few minutes of silent gasps and gentle lips before he's stretching Poe open, taking his long, slender finger halfway inside of him and then cautiously adding a second.
It's not lovemaking, not yet - he's fucking Poe with his fingers, curling them inwards until he finds Poe's prostate, which he presses against hard, wanting to see if he can make him buck and roll and beg.
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He waits, for far too long, for the tumble of words and feelings to start spilling from his lips. The longer the moment passes the hotter Poe feels - a flush growing under his skin and spreading across his face and throat and chest. He doesn't break the silence, but his eyes lock onto Owain's fingers as he lets himself be pulled more fully into place. He almost reaches out to press his own fingers into Owain's mouth - not out of any plan, but out of pure desire. But he holds back, because his heart is starting to beat far too fast and his eyeslids are fluttering as Owain lowers his hand.
His lips part, silently, eyes still locked on Owain's face, a gentle pant of a breath as he slowly works him open. He's looking incredibly stoic and reserved, slowly pumping Owain's cock - until he gave a sudden almost- violent shudder, moaning wantonly as Owain's fingers felt like the first damn thing that had ever touched him like that in the history of the universe.
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His fingers fuck in and out of Poe a little faster, pressing hard against his prostate with every thrust. He brings his lips to Poe's throat and hums against it as he kisses him, tastes him, remembers him. He stretches his fingers apart, a little, trying to let Poe feel the full fucking weight of this, and when he dares to slide a third finger inside, he holds every finger deep in Poe, to the base, before pulling out. He buries his cock to the hilt of Poe's fist as he does, subconsciously, barely aware he's doing it.
"I..."
The words don't come again, but he moves, kisses the top of Poe's scalp, breathing in his scent and shutting his eyes. Fuck.
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"Please." He's almost shivering with need and anticipation, hand sliding behind Owain's head and gripping far too hard, his hips rolling against those fingers as if he could force them deeper. Force them to move. When Owain pulls them out he groans with frustration, his hand squeezing firm around the base of Owain's cock. He tugged, a little, angling it downward.
"I need to feel you inside of me," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and deep.
"Please, Owain, I need to feel that I'm yours--"
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He cuts Poe off with a kiss, because he knows that if he doesn't, he knows that if he hears anything else right now, he'll cry and lose his mind and go fully fucking insane from how deliriously happy he is. His lips are trembling and it takes all the willpower he has to make them work, but he does, for a moment, before pulling away and looking at Poe like he's never seen him before. No part of him ever thought-- he just didn't think--
He thought this was impossible. He thought Poe had done more than close this door. He'd thought Poe had burned this whole fucking bridge down.
The hand he'd hooked behind Poe's neck traces fingers over skin to Poe's lips, his thumb gently brushing over the softness and the shine that he left there with that last kiss. His other hand - he draws every finger out of Poe except for one, which he just slowly, slowly fucks through him, keeping up the pace even as he bites his own bottom lip and meets Poe's eyes.
"You've always been mine." It's quiet, and almost apologetic, like he's realizing, suddenly, how much of a terrible burden he's been on Poe through his relationship with Finn. "You've always been-- my ending. No matter how my life might end, I knew - long ago, since before space - that my last thoughts were always going to be of you. It took me... some time, to understand the depths of what I feel for you. But it's always been apart of us. I think. For me, at least. I think for you, too."
He draws his last finger out and arcs his cock away from Poe's hand, aligning his tip with Poe's hole. He teases him, brushing over sensitive flesh with his head, but he can't hold back, either. He's barely an inch inside Poe before he has to stop, stilling his entire body to keep from blowing his load, lowering his head and managing his breathing. When the feeling that had been boiling up from his balls fades away, he inserts another inch, and then another, before he has to stop again and wait.
"Fuck-- sorry. I've just--" He laughs, slightly self-conscious, but still mostly just fucking happy. "I've been-- I've thought about this moment. A lot."
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That's the thing with pilots. They don't need a working bridge: they can fly.
It's always overwhelming, whenever Owain talks about how he feels about Poe. It's a little more intense when he feels like he's so amped up that he could have a heart attack at any second, that all his nerve endings are on fire and he's already half gone with need and lust - and love-
Owain's always been more sure about how he felt. About everything. Poe barely treated this place like it was real, before Owain suddenly made it real. He tried to make sense of what he was doing here, tried to press himself into a mold for what his purpose here could possibly be. Paragon of the Resistance. But that hadn't been right. The war wasn't here. And even though Finn was, if that had been his destiny--
Why hadn't he just been left at home?
But there was an answer, and he suddenly got it. As if someone just hit him over the back of his head with it. He swallowed, eyes half lidded, mouth dry.
"... I think you're the reason I'm supposed to be here," he said lowly, almost wonderingly, testing the words out for himself.
They sounded true.
He wanted nothing more than for Owain to just plunge the rest of the distance in, but he resisted the urge to force it, meeting his eyes instead.
"It's alright," he murmured lowly. "I... I think we have time."
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If he could think a little clearer, he might be able to tell Poe exactly how much it means to him to hear that. It's-- validating, because it's something he's always thought, too. He fell hard and fast without much warning, but it was real and it was love and the pain in his chest and the lightning in his blood has only ever gotten so much worse over the time they've known each other. It's hard, for someone like Owain, to look into Poe, find a love that could drown an ocean, and not think yeah, he's what I'm made for.
His heart might break under the weight of this.
He sinks further into Poe, deeper, until the bare skin of his waist is pressed tight against Poe's ass. He clenches his eyes shut and angles his hips in such a way that when he pulls out again, with a slow pace that's almost painful for him, the ridge of his head rubs hard through Poe. His breath catches in his throat and he makes a needy, desperate noise he's never made before, and he finds the strength to finally, finally move, fucking in and out of Poe like he's picking up an old habit.
He finds Poe's cock, again, holding it in one hand while he braces himself against the bed with the other, and he glides his slick palm over the length of it in time with each thrust. He's breathing heavy and almost panting, sweating like he's run a marathon when they've barely even started.
"Poe, I--" He's dizzy, and his voice doesn't sound like his own in his ears, because it's happy and he hasn't felt like that for so, so fucking long. He doesn't even know what to say, which is so unlike him - his voice is just quivering and his heart is too full, and he feels connected. There's no part of him, right now - if there ever even was - that doesn't belong to Poe.
"I just-- fuck--"
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His back arches as Owain bottoms out, his eyes rolling back into his head as that achingly slow drag backwards sends a violent shudder down his spine. Once Owain is finally fucking him, he lets out a long, helpless moan, rolling his hips to meet after thrust. His cock lay heavy against himself before Owain drew it up, the precum drawing a line from the tip of his cock to his chest.
"Oh fuck--" He groans out, unable to manage anything more coherent than that, all thought fluttering from his head like a million loosed butterflies. It doesn't matter. Nothing does. The only thing that matters is this.
He clumsily reaches with a hand to try to find Owain's throat, fingers raking the man's chest instead as his concentration was lost with another perfect thrust. "Fuck-- Kiss me--"
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The kiss is the same. Long and quiet. He almost misses, at first, with a little too much teeth and a little too much wetness in his need to do this, to give Poe this kiss, to fucking feel his lips on his own, their tongues brushing over and against each other. There's a buzz in his head that stops him from thinking, all the blood in his body concentrated on the aching fucking hardness of his cock and flushing his skin, leaving Odin pink with exertion and already sweaty.
He stops kissing Poe long enough to graze his teeth down the curve of his neck, finding his shoulder and sinking a bite into it, just hard enough to make Poe gasp or writhe or react. He slams a little harder into him when he does, bone deep, body flushed tight against body, and he stays there for a little too long, pushing in deep with all his weight.
"Poe--"
He eases out, again, rooting his fists in the bedspread either side of Poe's waist, and he props himself up to get a better look at Poe's face. He doesn't break eye contact as he fucks his hips forward again, fucking into Poe and just watching him, breathing in every reaction and smile and moan he might make.
"I fucking-- love you, I love you," he staggers out, and it's too fast and too easy and too obvious to say, but he's actually tearing up, his voice is actually choking under the thick, heavy weight of emotion that's been slowly ruining him for the past twelve months. He wipes a tear away before curling his fingers tight against the sheet again, and he hates himself a little even as he grinds the head of his cock deep into Poe, because he knows this isn't sexy, he knows this isn't good, but the tears are already starting to come a little more freely, one already rolling down his cheek and settling on his jaw.
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But Owain holds fast and that is the only thing that keeps him from completely losing himself, even though his cock weeps with the need of it, just that one little push--
Poe's cock might want it, but Poe doesn't. All too happy to keep the moment stretching on into eternity, if he was able to. The utter fullness and fulfilment and joy something nearly impossible to find, otherwise, and he wants to grip it and drag it down with him until he drowns in it. So the reprieve is welcome, even if it doesn't take complete pressure off of his aching cock. He feels like he's on a hair trigger, but then Owain is pulling out of him again and his eyelids flutter open to try to focus on Owain's face.
He's pulled roughly back from the edge as soon as the first tear is wiped away, the concern flooding in immediately, despite the words.
He knows the words. He'd known them for a long time now.
So they weren't earth shattering. Just a truth, that he'd already known. That he'd known for a while. His attention is pulled elsewhere, eyes immediately training on those tears. Even the fucking ruining thrust can't pull his attention away, even as it makes his whole body shudder.
He braces himself up on an elbow, panting hard, his skin flushed even darker than usual, and he reaches out to slide fingers into Owain's hair and pull him closer.
"Hey--" It's the softest of words, almost more of a pant than anything else, his chest heaving with the effort of bringing himself back down somewhere more stable. Just for a minute.
"Hey, I'm here." It's barely a whisper, but he says it without even a trace of hesitation. Even that quietly, his voice is nothing but confidence. "I'm sorry it took me so long. But I'm here." He knows he could say it. Say exactly what Owain wanted to hear - what he needed to hear - but he doesn't.
Not in the heat of the moment, not like this.
Not when Owain's been waiting so damn long.
So instead he presses a clumsy kiss to the man's lips, still propped up on one arm. "I'm right here."
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He can feel the wetness of his tears roll down his neck, his throat, his collarbone, but he doesn't wipe them away this time. He just lowers his head into the kiss and bucks his hips forward like he's losing control of them, every few thrusts coming harder now, hammering into that perfect spot with a strength and a precision Owain doesn't even mean to have. He hadn't expected Poe to say I love you, even if it's true that he needs to hear it - at a very core level, under all the doubts and the pit of fire in his stomach and the second guesses and the fucking, fucking anxiety, he believes that Poe wouldn't be here if those feelings were a part of him.
He's here. It took a long time, but he's here, and he wants him.
There's a calm that rushes through him, a calm that he's only ever felt because of Poe, and with another long breath after breaking from the kiss, he feels steadier on every level. He moves his hands, just a little, re-positioning his fists on the silk sheets before he puts all his weight on one arm. He draws his other hand down to Poe's slick, precum-heavy cock and circles his thumb on the underside of his head.
He says nothing, as he leans in to kiss Poe, but there's a determination in him now to see this through, to fucking wreck Poe. His thrusts become narrower, more precise, each inch of his length stretching through him, faster and faster. He doesn't take Poe in his fist and hammer his cock like he should - he knows that would make him blow, he knows that would end this faster than anything - but he teases the most sensitive parts of him, overloading each nerve with the slick, wet, loud noise of his hand, circling his head and his tip with his hand enclosed over all of it, ready to catch his cum when it shoots out.
He fucks faster and faster, still so much slower than how things used to be between them when i was all just physical, but when he feels his climax boiling up in the base of his balls at a speed he's never felt before, he stops entirely and focuses on Poe. He raises his eyes to Poe's again, old tears still clinging to every long lash, and--
Smiles, and laughs, that low and masculine and throaty laugh that Poe always laughed, the sound he only ever did when they were tangled up like this together.
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The ragged moan that was pulled from his lips as that barest touch of Owain's fingers on his cock, the palm sliding over his head and fuck he wants that grip, that pressure - he needs Owain's hand on him, really on him, or - or so he would think, if he could think. But he can't.
He could feel his orgasm rolling up from within him. Like an avalanche starting with the thinnest whispers of snow on snow, halfway up a mountain. But Owain stopped, again, and Poe let out a low, long, pathetic moan, his heart restarting from where it had nearly stopped. So fucking close to the edge, again, and yet - (again) - couldn't actually blame Owain for it.
Part of him just wanted to beg Owain to keep going, regardless - just keep fucking him, for hours, or days, no matter how weak and limp and oversensitive he became. But that part of him was here for something different.
It wasn't what Poe was here for.
That laugh?
Fuck, but that laugh was what he was here for. The smile split his face before he could stop it, even though his brows were still half furrowed in concentration, the vestiges of worry still at the edges of his eyes even though the rest of him was caught in some kind of near-painful ecstasy.
"Fuck, but you are beautiful." The words held a weight of awe that rarely entered Poe's voice. A truth that he could say, right now, right here, even if it wasn't the one that Owain wanted. The words may be different, but the tone was the same. (The tone would take the full meaning, even if the words would not.)
His eyes crinkled as his smile spread, misting slightly, and he forced himself to breathe.
"So fucking beautiful."
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The arm Owain was resting on bends, and he drops his weight on Poe's body, chest touching chest. He moves his hand from Poe's cock so that he can just fucking embrace him - arms tight around Poe's back, his abs softly grinding over Poe's cock with each thrust in a way that would be too much, too rough, if he was fucking any faster than he was, but feels perfect as they are now.
Between Poe's skin and the sheets, Owain's arm crosses his shoulderblades at an angle, his fingers digging into his shoulder on the other side. His other loops beneath Poe's waist, lifting him away from the bed just an inch or two so that when he drills into him, he can bottom out even further than before. His thrusts come a little slower, but harder, pounding into Poe at just the right angle, flesh slapping obscenely against flesh even as Owain bites his bottom lip, digs his face into the curve of Poe's neck and tries, again, despite all the warmth and the laughter and the joy spreading through him, not to cry.
If he's beautiful--
If he's beautiful--
The moon reflects the light of the sun, and if any part of him is beautiful, it's only because Poe made him that way.
"Poe--"
His voice is a coarse whisper, barely able to be heard, his voice ghosting over Poe's ear as he speaks. He grazes his teeth over Poe's earlobe, just once, and then he breathes again, stuttering and long and slow. If he weren't so blinded by this, he'd think twice, maybe, about being stupid and poetic and dramatic. He'd let this moment just be, but romance is a part of him, words are a part of him, so even though he shakes under the the pressure of getting this out - will Poe laugh at him, maybe? - he tries, anyway.
"I wouldn't--"
Again, as he thrusts deeper into Poe, the heat of his skin rolls over his cock, Poe's precum marking his stomach.
"I wouldn't be who I am-- without you," he tries, and there's the watery quiver of a sob barely bitten back as he lowers his head into Poe's shoulder, hiding his face from view. He's stumbling, unable to get what he wants to say out there, that he's only able to be loved by Poe because he's the only person who gets him, that he's only able to be looked at like that by Poe because he's Poe's.
"If you-- if I'm-- okay, as who I am, it's because I just-- everything about me is you, you've always been-- it's always been--"
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Because that's what this is. He's being claimed, utterly and completely. That's what he wants.
He wants to be able to concentrate on what Owain is saying. He can hear the tears in the man's voice and the gravel in his throat and all he wants to do is reassure him. But every word comes with Owain taking him, utterly and completely.
"--I'm yours--" he moans, and it's half an echo and half an assertion, his spine arching and his whole body pressing up into Owain's as his muscles shake with tension.
"--- I'm-- Owain, I'm yours--"
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Fuck, fuck, fuck -
Owain doesn't moan when he finally comes.
He shuts his eyes so tight it hurts, and he loses all sense of control in his body. He convulses, fucking into Poe in lurching thrusts, and he doesn't realize how hard he's pounding him until his cloudy, zoned out brain connects those noises he's hearing to the the bed skidding against the floor and the headboard hitting the wall. He's stuck on I'm yours, pinning Poe's entire body down on his cock, his fingers digging hard enough into Poe's back to bruise, fingers twisting and curling and scratching over him like he's frantically scrambling for something to hold onto because he's falling, falling.
The build up to shooting his load takes longer than normal, edged and dragged out even when he's fucking Poe so hard the room feels like it's shaking, and he's whimpering as the boiling heat in his cock grows more and more painful. His mouth is half-open against Poe's shoulder, canine teeth scraping skin without Owain even noticing that's what he's doing, and when his climax finally, finally hits him, when he cries out just once when he explodes, he sinks his teeth hard into Poe's shoulder and silently cries through the whole thing, hips staggering as jet after jet after jet pours out of him into Poe. It floods down his length and onto the sheets and Owain's just ruined, lifting Poe off the bed a few inches to unload as much of his come into him as he can before his strength gives out and the jaw on Poe's shoulder starts to ease.
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He was an absolute mess. His whole back was arched in an unsustainable way, Owain's hands leaving dark bruises on his skin. He was already just about to come when Owain did, the bed slamming against the wall with a rhythmic crash.
He was already almost gone when Owain's teeth sunk into him.
He came so hard that his vision blacked out. He probably yelled something - his throat was raw from it even if he didn't register it. (Even if everyone else on this floor - as well as the one above and below - heard him scream Owain's name.)
He coated his own chest in his cum, shot after shot that didn't seem to end, until everything in him was almost painfully empty. His whole body was shaking almost uncontrollably and he slumped in Owain's grip, something close to a whimper on his lips.
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