Poe shudders and slumps the rest of his weight against Owain - the only thing he's capable of doing is breathing. Everything else is too damn much. He just breathes, chest heaving, his back raw and everything hurting but he is in a state of pure bliss.
Eventually he can't ignore Owain's cock pressing into his stomach, and with a low groan he shifts his weight only enough that he can lean on one side, the opposite hand sliding between them to grasp Owain's length and slowly begin to pump him.
That it was the bandaged hand was certainly not thought out - it was all instinct.
He's not sure what Poe's doing at first, until he feels the scratch of pre-soaked bandages hitting his length, and then he's moaning with the last noisy scratch his throat can handle, biting his lip, keeping his eyes open against every instinct to shut them because he wants to see Poe like this. Exhausted but giving.
He fucks up into the hand a few times, but then he breathes out, resting his fingers over the man's wrist to still him. He rolls over to kiss Poe, slow and measured and anything but clumsy, and then collapses back into the sheets.
"I can-- do it. Just--"
He swallows, raising one hand, smooths a trace of blood and saliva off of Poe's lips with his thumb. Fuck. Uses that hand to grip his cock.
"Just-- watch me? And then we can-- sleep. Holding each other. If you want."
He makes a low sound of dissent when his wrist gets slapped, but he lets go obediently, meet the kiss with a hazy laziness. He leans a little forward when Owain pulls away again, as he was quite happy to keep kissing, thanks.
His lips part at the touch, a very sleepy smile flickering at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pad of Owain's thumb before he pulls it away. He has to move, in order to see, so with a low grunt he rolls off of Owain - his now flaccid cock slipping free - and slumps against his side.
He feels empty, without Poe, and that takes longer to adjust to than he thought it would. He lets the feel of cum roll down his thighs, out of the well-fucked and probably bruised hole Poe's left him with, and onto the sheets without giving even the smallest of fucks about the mess. He breathes hard and leans back against the pillow, shifting back an inch or two so Poe can see him better, and he jerks off with one shaking hand.
He watches Poe's expression the whole time, staying quiet other than shallow pants and the broken moans that come from erratic thrusts into his fist. It only takes a few minutes before his whole body tenses and his eyebrows pinch in the middle - he struggles to keep his eyes open so he can look at Poe's face, his perfect fucking face, because this is what he's cumming to, this is the reason why he's shooting his load, this man, this perfect fucking man -
His climax hits harder than the last one, spasms of twitching muscle and groans as he shoots thick ropes onto his own chest. He whispers Poe's name, like he's begging for something as he comes, and when he cools down he just... collapses, softening and easing, red and sweaty and messy and completely and utterly claimed.
"F..."
His eyelids are already starting to flutter shut, into sleep, but he pushes through it, rolling forward to steal a weak, energyless kiss.
Even utterly spent, it was hard not to be stirred by the sight - Poe wouldn't have been able to look away even if he'd wanted to. (He didn't.)
He shifted into the kiss, a little more energy than Owain had (as he'd had a few minutes to recover), but not a hell of a lot more. He raised a hand to Owain's cheek, however, holding him loosely in place, lingering on the kiss as long as the other man would let him.
When he finally let go he reached blindly for one of the sheets, scrubbing himself off haphazardly and then doing the same for Owain before curling in up against him.
He had the sudden, stupid urge to tell Owain that he loved him.
Owain curls up against Poe, chest to chest, eyes shut tight. It's that perfect blend of being warmed by another's body without it being oppressive, and he's drifting away, holding Poe as tightly as his spent and tired limbs will allow.
That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Eventually he can't ignore Owain's cock pressing into his stomach, and with a low groan he shifts his weight only enough that he can lean on one side, the opposite hand sliding between them to grasp Owain's length and slowly begin to pump him.
That it was the bandaged hand was certainly not thought out - it was all instinct.
"... Didn't... Get you a second time..."
no subject
He fucks up into the hand a few times, but then he breathes out, resting his fingers over the man's wrist to still him. He rolls over to kiss Poe, slow and measured and anything but clumsy, and then collapses back into the sheets.
"I can-- do it. Just--"
He swallows, raising one hand, smooths a trace of blood and saliva off of Poe's lips with his thumb. Fuck. Uses that hand to grip his cock.
"Just-- watch me? And then we can-- sleep. Holding each other. If you want."
no subject
His lips part at the touch, a very sleepy smile flickering at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pad of Owain's thumb before he pulls it away. He has to move, in order to see, so with a low grunt he rolls off of Owain - his now flaccid cock slipping free - and slumps against his side.
"... Yeah. Alright. Sounds like a plan."
no subject
He watches Poe's expression the whole time, staying quiet other than shallow pants and the broken moans that come from erratic thrusts into his fist. It only takes a few minutes before his whole body tenses and his eyebrows pinch in the middle - he struggles to keep his eyes open so he can look at Poe's face, his perfect fucking face, because this is what he's cumming to, this is the reason why he's shooting his load, this man, this perfect fucking man -
His climax hits harder than the last one, spasms of twitching muscle and groans as he shoots thick ropes onto his own chest. He whispers Poe's name, like he's begging for something as he comes, and when he cools down he just... collapses, softening and easing, red and sweaty and messy and completely and utterly claimed.
"F..."
His eyelids are already starting to flutter shut, into sleep, but he pushes through it, rolling forward to steal a weak, energyless kiss.
"F... fuck."
no subject
He shifted into the kiss, a little more energy than Owain had (as he'd had a few minutes to recover), but not a hell of a lot more. He raised a hand to Owain's cheek, however, holding him loosely in place, lingering on the kiss as long as the other man would let him.
When he finally let go he reached blindly for one of the sheets, scrubbing himself off haphazardly and then doing the same for Owain before curling in up against him.
He had the sudden, stupid urge to tell Owain that he loved him.
But he didn't.
no subject
That urge - that urge to tell Poe he loves him - has been there for days, since before they even met. An undercurrent to everything they've done. Its never been stronger than it is now.
He falls asleep before he can act on it.