Owain's biting his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling, as he always does when he feels like he's done something daring by taking the lead on anything physical. He's pointedly looking out over the rest of the city, redfaced and all too obvious in how he's feeling, so much easier to read than Poe is.
He chances a look back, and when he does, Poe's taking his lips in his own and Owain's letting out a noise like he's getting into a bath after a long day. Just-- relief, pleasure, leaning into this. He lets it stay slow and purposeful, every brush of soft lips against his own making his stomach do flips like he's falling, but it doesn't take long before he tries to make things deeper.
Poe isn't as frantic or as intense or as determined to take this faster as Owain is, and it's frustrating, in a way that makes Owain smile regardless. He figures if he has to challenge Poe to stop holding back, then that's-- fun. He can have fun with that. With the taste of cake still sticking to the tip of his tongue, he pulls back and puts his hand under Poe's jacket, resting on his abdomen over his shirt.
He looks down, watches his hand as two fingers slide between the gap of his lowest buttons to rest on bare skin. He grins, again, looking at Poe.
There was something almost - not disappointing, exactly, but perhaps bittersweet - about how Owain's fingers trailed against his skin, intent clear. It wasn't even that he wasn't happy to follow that intent, either. His body responded for him, instantly, the muscles of his abdomen fluttering under Owain's touch.
"Huh. So it is," He said, smiling slyly, pushing the bittersweet feeling down into his chest as far as it would go.
He was letting himself get way, way too deep.
His hand on Owain's jaw shifted, the pad of his thumb gently brushing over the man's lips. Gods, but he had the most amazing lips--
He's young and he's new and as far as Owain is concerned, being able to open himself up like this is as much of a show of vulnerability as anything else. He'd missed the cues that this was romantic - how could he not, when the only romantic affection he'd ever witnessed between two people belonged to his parents who were already so in love? - but he didn't miss the way Poe wanted him, even if he misunderstood why. Misunderstood how.
He leans against that hand. Always leaning. Always touchstarved.
"Just... like." He stumbles over the teasing, because again, he's so fucking new, and this is something he misses, too. "Just, like, in a sexy way, or something. Like, like with sex, or whatever. Even though I guess we probably shouldn't do that up here? I'm just, like."
He laughs, the tips of his ears an even darker shade of pink, spreading over his cheeks and his nose, lighting up.
"Just-- I don't know. Every time I see you I want to be as close to you as I can. I want to just-- be by your side, or-- or have you talk to me, or just. Be. With you. And we're alone, so I'm like... I want to be the most close. Kind of thing."
He let out an aborted breath of a laugh, the amused smile pulling to his lips despite himself. Like with sex, or whatever, indeed.
"Maybe not right here on the balcony, no," He mused, but even as he said that, he pivoted, swinging a leg up over Owain's and sliding easily into his lap. "Though there's a little space behind the clock-face that's out of the way..."
Owain should move, but he's pinned by Poe, and he doesn't really think he wants to. He slowly unbuttons the bottom of Poe's shirt, working his way upwards as he pulls Poe's neck down with his other hand to kiss him. Soft, slow. Intimate, despite the way he keeps surging forward for more.
He wouldn't mind if they stayed here. Wouldn't mind if they were seen from below, by wandering eyes of the military, of people who thought Pledges should stay quiet and unseen and hidden from view unless otherwise addressed. The thrill of the idea makes him hard, but there's something that stops him from asking for it.
In the end, he just wants to feel close to Poe. Close in a way that belongs to him and him alone.
They leave the balcony, though Owain drags his feet about getting Poe off of his lap. They head inside, into the dark stone tower with filtered sunbeams lighting it through open windows, and Owain has Poe up against the wall in a matter of seconds, kissing him with that same slow but needy intensity, hand snaking down his own pants to fish his cock out through the top of his waistband and slowly jerk off. Too eager, as always.
He doesn't try to slow Owain down, despite longing to. Despite wanting to linger in that slow, intimate kiss for as long as he can. But he doesn't actually fight the urgency as it rises, his own pulse jumping to meet it, despite himself. Sure, he wasn't eighteen, but having an eighteen year old jump his bones could get his blood boiling just as quickly.
He groaned into the kiss, reaching out for Owain's cock the second that the man pulled out his cock, giving him good, firm strokes. His other hand went for his own pants, not to pull out his cock but to get them open and push them down his hips, trousers sliding down to his knees and passed them as he kicked them off, still fully clothed above the waist, and underwear below, already tenting.
He fucks hard into Poe's hand, pushing him further back against the wall as he does. He lets Poe get undressed with minimal interference, though he does settle his open palms on Poe's shoulders and is far too obvious with his staring. He reaches into Poe's underwear and slowly beats him off, tugging the waistband down beneath his balls and skipping any foreplay.
His other hand moves up Poe's neck and lingers there as he presses forward into another kiss, finding a rhythm of his hips jutting forward, almost standing on his tiptoes as his legs tense and push out from the feeling of it. It's a struggle to keep his feet flat on the ground so he and Poe can kiss comfortably despite the height difference, a struggle to not just lean forward and fuck him when neither of them are really alert enough for that after last night and getting up so early, but--
But this is nice. The swiftness in his hand, the way his fist is gripping tight on Poe's cock and jerking him off with too much of his eighteen year old energy, means that he's less focused on pushing forward with the kiss. It stays slow, stays intimate and careful, and Owain thinks-- even if this is all they do, get each other to cum with the lingering taste of chocolate on their lips, Owain stroking Poe faster and faster and tighter and tighter-- he'll still so happily lose his mind.
The hand on his cock is so disconnected from the deep, slow kiss, that he doesn't even think about it before his free hand touches Owain's wrist - not grabbing it, but pressing, almost pushing him away. It was too much, and he didn't want it - not like that.
It didn't stop his other hand, however, his strokes on Owain's cock starting to quicken their pace - not anything like the energetic strokes that Owain had been offering, but tight and purposeful anyway.
He breaks off the kiss, pressing his forehead to Owain's and sucking in a breath. There's a lot of things that he feels like he wants to say. And almost none of them things he can. So he settles on the obvious.
"... What about a little more than a slight fucking?" He asked, his voice low and husky.
He eases away, startled, at first. Looking at Poe like he's done something wrong. Rejected, again, as he was when he asked to dance. There's panic in him that he doesn't know what to do with, and it flashes through his expression for a few short seconds as he immediately runs through everything he just did and tries to find what he did wrong--
But then Poe's asking to fuck, and the panic eases, just enough to make him grin shaky and unsure despite the anxiety still hiding back behind his eyes. He eases both hands away from Poe and hesitates, second guessing himself, but then settles them on Poe's hips.
He would have chuckled, if that look of panic hadn't slipped like ice through his heart, clenching it quietly but painfully. Just another reminder that the tentative balance they had found was just that - wavering on the edge of a knife. So instead he just smiled - a slightly sad edge to the corner of his eyes, but a growing warmth to it.
He hadn't stopped stroking him, though the strokes had slowed, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the head of Owain's cock.
"Yeah." He leaned in, as if he was about to take a kiss, but instead his teeth pull at Owain's bottom lip. "Come on."
Sex, in the end, has always been about intimacy for Owain. Even at the start, when the thought of being called a good boy rang so clearly in his head as a sign of obedience, it meant-- approval, like he was doing right as a pledge. Now, when he's just-- driven by a lust to connect, it's because it's Poe and he wants to bridge what distance they have as physically as they can.
And that intimacy is still there, through the hand on his cock. Through the way Poe almost kisses him, but then pulls at his lip, making Owain moan without meaning to and step forward. Poe still wants him. Just for being him.
He hesitates, nevertheless, but-- he's a soldier. His hands grip tight on Poe's hips, and he grins, and then he's fucking lifting him against the wall, holding him tight against the stone.
And then he remembers lube.
"Fuck." Awkward. "Can you-- like-- just-- lick... your... hand and then-- and then like jerk-- me off?"
He stares at Poe. Red. Too embarrassed and awkward and shyly, goofishly happy to panic.
He let out a grunt as his back hit the wall, and a little of that urgency that Owain had been displaying sudden lit up in his own chest.
Look.
He knew what he liked.
At the comment, though, he couldn't help but laugh - a husky, breathy chuckle, and then he offered a slow grin. "... Let me back down again and I'll do you one better," he promised.
Owain, of course, doesn't get it. And argues, petulantly. Like a person, not a pledge.
"What? No. I like having you here. All like--" His eyes wander down. "All like... in my hands. Waiting. Ready. Willing. About to get fucked within an inch of your fucking life. It's--"
His eyes flick back up from Poe's chest when he connects the dots and realizes what Poe's offering. Oh. Oh. Okay.
He eases Poe back down, wetting his lips and turning it into another bite as he watches him. Okay. Okay. Okay. Alright.
Poe just waited - a single eyebrow raised in amusement while he watched Owain's brain slowly run through it's process and figure out what was actually on offer. He smirks a little and steps closer, pressing a firm kiss to Owain's lips - and then slides down onto his knees.
He doesn't really bother with foreplay. Owain hasn't, and besides, that would require getting the other man to take off his clothes. Instead, the hand that had already been holding him shifts to grip the base of his dick, and Poe slides almost the entire thing into his mouth with one smooth stroke.
He's obviously not really doing this to get Owain off, though - there's no tight pressure. Just Poe's tongue pushing as much saliva as it could right down the entire shaft.
It would still be enough to make Owain get off, if last night hadn't happened.
He grunts, immediately, fingers finding purchase in Poe's hair as he shuts his eyes tight. He doesn't buck forward or edge his cock forward as he might want to, because he's scared of how easy it might be to unload on that warm, warm fucking tongue - he just holds his breath until his lungs are aching, counting prime numbers in his head to keep cool.
A hot pulse of blood goes straight to his cock when Owain says his name like that, and it takes a large degree of willpower not to just hollow his cheeks and start sucking in earnest - but this isn't the end game he's going for. He spends a little extra time using his tongue to tease at the head, but otherwise he pulls back once he's satisfied that there's enough saliva (and precum) to get them started.
He pulled his head back, licking his lips quite purposefully - now far more into the mode that Owain had started this venture in, the slow yearning set aside for something quicker and needier. He stood back up and slid his hands over Owain's shoulders, bracing to be lifted back up against the wall.
There's a beat of just absolute fucking stunned silence when Poe is done, and for a second he tries to tease this out as revenge by kissing the taste of chocolate and precum off of Poe's lips, sucking obscenely hard on his bottom lip and leaving it pink and shiny and swollen, but--
But fuck, Poe is perfect, and Owain doesn't have the willpower to stay away from him.
He hooks his hands back under Poe's thighs and lifts him decisively harder against the wall, this time, scraping him a little too much against brickwork, his bandaged hand wincing as he squeezes down. He takes a breath and clumsily eases himself against Poe's hole, and it's awkward and needy and hard to do without hands, but he pushes Poe's back harder into the wall and presses their chests together to anchor him in place and slowly, slowly finds a way to fuck the head of his cock into him.
He breathes out, when he finally does it, pressing their foreheads back together with a stupidly proud laugh. It fades, and his voice softens, and he's so, so close to Poe as he meets his eyes, still red right up to the tip of his nose.
"... You gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to ask?"
It had taken more than a little wiggling on Poe's part, looping his legs back around Owain's waist, but he let out a low, satisfied moan as be finally felt the head breach him.
His eyes were closed and he was paying attention to the feeling, rather than his lover's face, until Owain was speaking. Then Poe's eyes flickered open again, hazy with lust, and be offered a smug smile as he leaned in to take a deep, penetrating kiss.
He loves seeing Poe like that. Smug, like he just knows how hot he is. Proud of himself in a way Owain is just to know him. He brushes his tongue over Poe's and slowly fucks further into him, meeting resistance from using spit and lube alone but slick enough and leaking enough pre that it eases with each gentle thrust.
"Ffffuck..."
A part of him remembers the way Poe pushed his hand away, and his heart sinks with nerves as he, again, wonders why, but then he remembers the way their foreheads met and the way he still kept touching him and he picks up speed, meeting his lips. Gently pulling at lips before leaning against him.
He's lifting Poe with both arms, which means he can't touch his cock - he moves to press them closer together, as close as they can be, skin and clothes touching, and with every thrust he grinds his abdomen and that soft, blood-stained sweater over Poe's cock.
It was definitely not the most comfortable fuck he'd ever gotten - and reminded him that he really needed to pick up some oil especially for this purpose before they left - but in all honestly the burn was almost the best part of it. There wasn't a lot he could do to meet those thrusts - he just did his best to relax, fingers curling against the back of Owain's neck.
He would have been able to keep himself from moaning like a whore, maybe, if Owain hadn't stepped in closer, hadn't lit fire to him by grinding that sweater (which was quickly becoming the most erotic piece of clothing Poe had ever known) against him. He bucked and moaned, despite the position, hands grabbing at Owain's back for purchase, fingers digging hard into fabric.
It's not quite enough touch but at the same time almost too much, and he writhes a little, trying to push down and force more of Owain inside him, but he's pinned to the wall.
"Oh, fuck, Owain--" he breathes, another moan sliding from his lips. "Fuck, you feel so good--"
The writhing on his cock feels fucking amazing, the way Poe just twists and falls down on him and struggles in his arms, making Owain make a noise that's close to a growl every time it happens. He doesn't let Poe move, though, not really - he keeps him pinned to the wall, clinging tighter, fucking harder into him and giving him what he wants, what he needs, but staying in control. He rolls his body, arching his back and pushing in with more than just his cock, fucking at full force with his hips and his thighs, and the pace gets faster and faster until he's bottoming out and his balls are hitting Poe's ass with each thrust.
Owain doesn't think he's going to last. Not as long as he normally does. Too eager, too ready for this, too overwhelmed. He catches at Poe's lips and grunts against him, eyes shut.
"Poe-- I fucking-- love--"
He swallows and leans back, too clouded by lust to have the energy to finish his sentence, let alone know what it's going to be. This or you. One of them. He bucks up harder, holding it there, and it's barely been a few minutes but he can feel what's coming.
At some point the burning had been completely replaced by numbness, which did absolutely nothing to temper the pure pleasure that shook him every time Owain thrust himself up full and deep, the head of his cock slamming past that perfect fucking spot every time. His cock was angrily weeping precum into Owain's sweater and Poe really couldn't find it in him to care.
He'd already be a lot closer to his orgasm if they hadn't run him ragged for the last two nights in a row, but that didn't mean he didn't moan pathetically as Owain rumbled his intention and need.
"Yes--" It came out more like a plea than anything else, Poe's whole body felt flushed and hot, his back rubbing raw between the fabric of his jacket and the stone of wall, tearing at freshly healed scabs from the claw marks raked across his back from the night before. It was, to put it bluntly, fucking hot as hell. "Fuck-- Owain, please-- I want to feel you come inside me--"
He's ruining Poe's skin, the stone leaving fresh cuts and grazes through fabric, layered wounds like thatchwork over the marks he left with his nails last night. Owain doesn't notice, and if he did, he might have stopped - but Poe's giving him permission to come and it's making his legs quake and every clumsy thrust comes harder and sharper, scratching and bruising as hard as the wall allows.
He lets go of one of Poe's thighs, letting his leg dangle beneath them, holding him high enough that his toes will barely be able to find the ground, if they try. He keeps him steady by looping his arm around his waist, and he just keeps fucking grunting, over and over without thinking, that needy growl rocking out of him as he just well and truly fucks, Poe's bare ass pressed so damn tight between Owain's body and the wall, so much pressure from the sweater pressed over his cock--
And then he's unloading like last night didn't even happen, cumming with a moan far too loud for where they are, filling Poe with everything he has. He presses into him as deep as he can, legs weakening and bucking and making him pull out every few seconds only to just fucking slam all the way back in, and when he's finally done shooting his load he's panting and pale and exhausted.
He pulls out, gently, his cock already softening and dripping free with a small waterfall of cum down Poe's ass, and he laughs a little sheepishly as he lets go of Poe's leg so he can stand, then leans on him for balance.
"S-Sorry. You're just-- I'm surprised I ever last longer than that with you. You are-- ridiculously, stupidly hot."
He was getting so fucking close, between those last few thrusts, but he had simply not completely recovered from the night before. So even though he felt like he was about to tip over the edge, he didn't, even as he could feel Owain cum deep inside of him, felt him thrust hard to keep at that depth even as the man's legs were shaking with the effort.
He had gripped hard, while Owain came, determined not to accidently slip back down the wall, and he was panting as well as his feet gingerly found the floor. He gave a low groan, his ass throbbing now that it was empty, and he could feel Owain's cum dripping down onto his thigh. He vaguely kicked at his clothes so at least they wouldn't get dripped on.
He was, also, hard as a fucking rock - but he made no motion to relieve himself of it. Instead, he pressed a hard, clumsy kiss to Owain's lips. "... You're the one telling me this?" He teased lowly. "You have... no idea... what the hell you do to me."
The only reason Owain pulls back from Poe is so they can kiss, and his half in this doesn't come back as hard - his side of the kiss is just a tired, soft thing filled with relaxed and clumsy motions, content and happy sighs. He grins into the teasing, fingers curling against Poe's side as his cock flexes one more time for good measure.
"If I didn't know what I did to you, I wouldn't want to be with you all the time," he mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss to Poe's neck. "I only like it so much 'cause I know we're both having fun."
He finds Poe's cock and wraps his fingers around it, stroking from base to tip, letting go, stroking from base to tip. He meets Poe's eyes with a kind of sleepy excitement, slow strokes suddenly coming even slower.
"I think," he says, words thoughtful and dragged out, a long pause for emphasis. "I think... I'm not gonna let you cum... until tonight. I'm gonna keep you hard-- gonna keep you waiting and desperate until you're begging for release-- so that when we're alone, one of us is gonna get fucking ruined."
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He chances a look back, and when he does, Poe's taking his lips in his own and Owain's letting out a noise like he's getting into a bath after a long day. Just-- relief, pleasure, leaning into this. He lets it stay slow and purposeful, every brush of soft lips against his own making his stomach do flips like he's falling, but it doesn't take long before he tries to make things deeper.
Poe isn't as frantic or as intense or as determined to take this faster as Owain is, and it's frustrating, in a way that makes Owain smile regardless. He figures if he has to challenge Poe to stop holding back, then that's-- fun. He can have fun with that. With the taste of cake still sticking to the tip of his tongue, he pulls back and puts his hand under Poe's jacket, resting on his abdomen over his shirt.
He looks down, watches his hand as two fingers slide between the gap of his lowest buttons to rest on bare skin. He grins, again, looking at Poe.
"It is my birthday, you know."
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"Huh. So it is," He said, smiling slyly, pushing the bittersweet feeling down into his chest as far as it would go.
He was letting himself get way, way too deep.
His hand on Owain's jaw shifted, the pad of his thumb gently brushing over the man's lips. Gods, but he had the most amazing lips--
"And how exactly would you like to celebrate?"
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He leans against that hand. Always leaning. Always touchstarved.
"Just... like." He stumbles over the teasing, because again, he's so fucking new, and this is something he misses, too. "Just, like, in a sexy way, or something. Like, like with sex, or whatever. Even though I guess we probably shouldn't do that up here? I'm just, like."
He laughs, the tips of his ears an even darker shade of pink, spreading over his cheeks and his nose, lighting up.
"Just-- I don't know. Every time I see you I want to be as close to you as I can. I want to just-- be by your side, or-- or have you talk to me, or just. Be. With you. And we're alone, so I'm like... I want to be the most close. Kind of thing."
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"Maybe not right here on the balcony, no," He mused, but even as he said that, he pivoted, swinging a leg up over Owain's and sliding easily into his lap. "Though there's a little space behind the clock-face that's out of the way..."
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He wouldn't mind if they stayed here. Wouldn't mind if they were seen from below, by wandering eyes of the military, of people who thought Pledges should stay quiet and unseen and hidden from view unless otherwise addressed. The thrill of the idea makes him hard, but there's something that stops him from asking for it.
In the end, he just wants to feel close to Poe. Close in a way that belongs to him and him alone.
They leave the balcony, though Owain drags his feet about getting Poe off of his lap. They head inside, into the dark stone tower with filtered sunbeams lighting it through open windows, and Owain has Poe up against the wall in a matter of seconds, kissing him with that same slow but needy intensity, hand snaking down his own pants to fish his cock out through the top of his waistband and slowly jerk off. Too eager, as always.
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He groaned into the kiss, reaching out for Owain's cock the second that the man pulled out his cock, giving him good, firm strokes. His other hand went for his own pants, not to pull out his cock but to get them open and push them down his hips, trousers sliding down to his knees and passed them as he kicked them off, still fully clothed above the waist, and underwear below, already tenting.
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His other hand moves up Poe's neck and lingers there as he presses forward into another kiss, finding a rhythm of his hips jutting forward, almost standing on his tiptoes as his legs tense and push out from the feeling of it. It's a struggle to keep his feet flat on the ground so he and Poe can kiss comfortably despite the height difference, a struggle to not just lean forward and fuck him when neither of them are really alert enough for that after last night and getting up so early, but--
But this is nice. The swiftness in his hand, the way his fist is gripping tight on Poe's cock and jerking him off with too much of his eighteen year old energy, means that he's less focused on pushing forward with the kiss. It stays slow, stays intimate and careful, and Owain thinks-- even if this is all they do, get each other to cum with the lingering taste of chocolate on their lips, Owain stroking Poe faster and faster and tighter and tighter-- he'll still so happily lose his mind.
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It didn't stop his other hand, however, his strokes on Owain's cock starting to quicken their pace - not anything like the energetic strokes that Owain had been offering, but tight and purposeful anyway.
He breaks off the kiss, pressing his forehead to Owain's and sucking in a breath. There's a lot of things that he feels like he wants to say. And almost none of them things he can. So he settles on the obvious.
"... What about a little more than a slight fucking?" He asked, his voice low and husky.
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But then Poe's asking to fuck, and the panic eases, just enough to make him grin shaky and unsure despite the anxiety still hiding back behind his eyes. He eases both hands away from Poe and hesitates, second guessing himself, but then settles them on Poe's hips.
"... Can I? Like, that's-- this is alright?"
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He hadn't stopped stroking him, though the strokes had slowed, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the head of Owain's cock.
"Yeah." He leaned in, as if he was about to take a kiss, but instead his teeth pull at Owain's bottom lip. "Come on."
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And that intimacy is still there, through the hand on his cock. Through the way Poe almost kisses him, but then pulls at his lip, making Owain moan without meaning to and step forward. Poe still wants him. Just for being him.
He hesitates, nevertheless, but-- he's a soldier. His hands grip tight on Poe's hips, and he grins, and then he's fucking lifting him against the wall, holding him tight against the stone.
And then he remembers lube.
"Fuck." Awkward. "Can you-- like-- just-- lick... your... hand and then-- and then like jerk-- me off?"
He stares at Poe. Red. Too embarrassed and awkward and shyly, goofishly happy to panic.
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Look.
He knew what he liked.
At the comment, though, he couldn't help but laugh - a husky, breathy chuckle, and then he offered a slow grin. "... Let me back down again and I'll do you one better," he promised.
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"What? No. I like having you here. All like--" His eyes wander down. "All like... in my hands. Waiting. Ready. Willing. About to get fucked within an inch of your fucking life. It's--"
His eyes flick back up from Poe's chest when he connects the dots and realizes what Poe's offering. Oh. Oh. Okay.
He eases Poe back down, wetting his lips and turning it into another bite as he watches him. Okay. Okay. Okay. Alright.
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He doesn't really bother with foreplay. Owain hasn't, and besides, that would require getting the other man to take off his clothes. Instead, the hand that had already been holding him shifts to grip the base of his dick, and Poe slides almost the entire thing into his mouth with one smooth stroke.
He's obviously not really doing this to get Owain off, though - there's no tight pressure. Just Poe's tongue pushing as much saliva as it could right down the entire shaft.
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He grunts, immediately, fingers finding purchase in Poe's hair as he shuts his eyes tight. He doesn't buck forward or edge his cock forward as he might want to, because he's scared of how easy it might be to unload on that warm, warm fucking tongue - he just holds his breath until his lungs are aching, counting prime numbers in his head to keep cool.
"Holy-- fuck, Poe--"
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A hot pulse of blood goes straight to his cock when Owain says his name like that, and it takes a large degree of willpower not to just hollow his cheeks and start sucking in earnest - but this isn't the end game he's going for. He spends a little extra time using his tongue to tease at the head, but otherwise he pulls back once he's satisfied that there's enough saliva (and precum) to get them started.
He pulled his head back, licking his lips quite purposefully - now far more into the mode that Owain had started this venture in, the slow yearning set aside for something quicker and needier. He stood back up and slid his hands over Owain's shoulders, bracing to be lifted back up against the wall.
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But fuck, Poe is perfect, and Owain doesn't have the willpower to stay away from him.
He hooks his hands back under Poe's thighs and lifts him decisively harder against the wall, this time, scraping him a little too much against brickwork, his bandaged hand wincing as he squeezes down. He takes a breath and clumsily eases himself against Poe's hole, and it's awkward and needy and hard to do without hands, but he pushes Poe's back harder into the wall and presses their chests together to anchor him in place and slowly, slowly finds a way to fuck the head of his cock into him.
He breathes out, when he finally does it, pressing their foreheads back together with a stupidly proud laugh. It fades, and his voice softens, and he's so, so close to Poe as he meets his eyes, still red right up to the tip of his nose.
"... You gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to ask?"
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It had taken more than a little wiggling on Poe's part, looping his legs back around Owain's waist, but he let out a low, satisfied moan as be finally felt the head breach him.
His eyes were closed and he was paying attention to the feeling, rather than his lover's face, until Owain was speaking. Then Poe's eyes flickered open again, hazy with lust, and be offered a smug smile as he leaned in to take a deep, penetrating kiss.
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"Ffffuck..."
A part of him remembers the way Poe pushed his hand away, and his heart sinks with nerves as he, again, wonders why, but then he remembers the way their foreheads met and the way he still kept touching him and he picks up speed, meeting his lips. Gently pulling at lips before leaning against him.
He's lifting Poe with both arms, which means he can't touch his cock - he moves to press them closer together, as close as they can be, skin and clothes touching, and with every thrust he grinds his abdomen and that soft, blood-stained sweater over Poe's cock.
"Fuck, Poe--"
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It was definitely not the most comfortable fuck he'd ever gotten - and reminded him that he really needed to pick up some oil especially for this purpose before they left - but in all honestly the burn was almost the best part of it. There wasn't a lot he could do to meet those thrusts - he just did his best to relax, fingers curling against the back of Owain's neck.
He would have been able to keep himself from moaning like a whore, maybe, if Owain hadn't stepped in closer, hadn't lit fire to him by grinding that sweater (which was quickly becoming the most erotic piece of clothing Poe had ever known) against him. He bucked and moaned, despite the position, hands grabbing at Owain's back for purchase, fingers digging hard into fabric.
It's not quite enough touch but at the same time almost too much, and he writhes a little, trying to push down and force more of Owain inside him, but he's pinned to the wall.
"Oh, fuck, Owain--" he breathes, another moan sliding from his lips. "Fuck, you feel so good--"
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Owain doesn't think he's going to last. Not as long as he normally does. Too eager, too ready for this, too overwhelmed. He catches at Poe's lips and grunts against him, eyes shut.
"Poe-- I fucking-- love--"
He swallows and leans back, too clouded by lust to have the energy to finish his sentence, let alone know what it's going to be. This or you. One of them. He bucks up harder, holding it there, and it's barely been a few minutes but he can feel what's coming.
"I'm gonna-- already-- can I just--?"
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He'd already be a lot closer to his orgasm if they hadn't run him ragged for the last two nights in a row, but that didn't mean he didn't moan pathetically as Owain rumbled his intention and need.
"Yes--" It came out more like a plea than anything else, Poe's whole body felt flushed and hot, his back rubbing raw between the fabric of his jacket and the stone of wall, tearing at freshly healed scabs from the claw marks raked across his back from the night before. It was, to put it bluntly, fucking hot as hell. "Fuck-- Owain, please-- I want to feel you come inside me--"
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He lets go of one of Poe's thighs, letting his leg dangle beneath them, holding him high enough that his toes will barely be able to find the ground, if they try. He keeps him steady by looping his arm around his waist, and he just keeps fucking grunting, over and over without thinking, that needy growl rocking out of him as he just well and truly fucks, Poe's bare ass pressed so damn tight between Owain's body and the wall, so much pressure from the sweater pressed over his cock--
And then he's unloading like last night didn't even happen, cumming with a moan far too loud for where they are, filling Poe with everything he has. He presses into him as deep as he can, legs weakening and bucking and making him pull out every few seconds only to just fucking slam all the way back in, and when he's finally done shooting his load he's panting and pale and exhausted.
He pulls out, gently, his cock already softening and dripping free with a small waterfall of cum down Poe's ass, and he laughs a little sheepishly as he lets go of Poe's leg so he can stand, then leans on him for balance.
"S-Sorry. You're just-- I'm surprised I ever last longer than that with you. You are-- ridiculously, stupidly hot."
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He had gripped hard, while Owain came, determined not to accidently slip back down the wall, and he was panting as well as his feet gingerly found the floor. He gave a low groan, his ass throbbing now that it was empty, and he could feel Owain's cum dripping down onto his thigh. He vaguely kicked at his clothes so at least they wouldn't get dripped on.
He was, also, hard as a fucking rock - but he made no motion to relieve himself of it. Instead, he pressed a hard, clumsy kiss to Owain's lips. "... You're the one telling me this?" He teased lowly. "You have... no idea... what the hell you do to me."
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"If I didn't know what I did to you, I wouldn't want to be with you all the time," he mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss to Poe's neck. "I only like it so much 'cause I know we're both having fun."
He finds Poe's cock and wraps his fingers around it, stroking from base to tip, letting go, stroking from base to tip. He meets Poe's eyes with a kind of sleepy excitement, slow strokes suddenly coming even slower.
"I think," he says, words thoughtful and dragged out, a long pause for emphasis. "I think... I'm not gonna let you cum... until tonight. I'm gonna keep you hard-- gonna keep you waiting and desperate until you're begging for release-- so that when we're alone, one of us is gonna get fucking ruined."
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shut up
Make me :')
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