goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

No words left to say 'please' but he can nod. Does not. Emphatically. Nod and roll back with another low moan, eyes dark and hot and locked onto David's. It's not the only way to shut him up- just the easiest. And just cus he's not talking don't mean he's not making noise. Every twist gets another shudder. Every curl another sigh.

Well, that's as clear as it could be. Like the searing heat in Taylor's eyes isn't tip-off enough. He pulls his fingers out completely, taking it slowly, and then presses inside with three. He presses them deeper this time, seeking out that spot, because he wants nothing more to see how Taylor reactions.

Three. God three and he keens like a dying thing. High and drawn out and needy, every muscle in his body locked up against the burn. But it's good. It's hard and it's bright and it's right there where he needs it.

Wash gives a breathless laugh, curls his hand against Taylor's arse and tugs him forward, pulling him flush against Wash's body again. If it makes him lose what little leverage he has, yeah, that's fine with Wash. He keeps moving his fingers, scissoring them inside him, slow then fast. "Love hearing you like this."

The tug jerks the fingers inside him against something amazing and then David stops fucking around and starts fucking him properly with his fingers. His head lolls down on his shoulders, mouth hanging open around soft twists of sound, little hnn hnn hnns that are hot and wet and damp and needy. If he wasn't aching for it before he sure as hell is now.

Oh Christ, that noise, the way he jerks. God, if he wasn't hard before, that would be enough to do him in. He's done this, driven Taylor to this state. He presses his cheek against Taylor's lips ghosting over it, along the shell of his ear. "You ready for me?"

All damn day he thought of this. All damn day he wanted this and now it's here and David is asking if he's READY? He comes back to himself enough to level a glare at him, shifting his weight to one hand so he can reach back and grab David by the dick and start guiding him where he needs to be, fingers still knuckle deep in him or no.

Somehow, Wash manages not to laugh at the look that Taylor shoots him. Doesn't get much of a chance, not when the next moment Taylor is grabbing him, grabbing his dick and fuck that is totally not fair to use as a handhold. Fucking Grappling hooks are also off the table.

He slides his fingers out, wriggles into position beneath Taylor and grips his hips hard.

If he didn't want York to get ahold of him he shouldn't have been a little asshole about getting him ready. It's all too easy to guide David home, going still at the first solid stretch of a burn and shivering his way through the next few inches. It's all he can take to start- shuddering and breathing hard.

It's Wash's turn to cry out when Taylor settles down against him. He slides inside, and it's perfect hot friction. Wash's head thumps back onto the pillow, mouth open as he pants, each inch sliding into him. He can feel Taylor trembling above him, and he slides his hands up his thighs, slick with sweat.

Easy, easy, he's mouthing to Wash as he slowly grinds his way down, inch by inch, trembling and tense and aching but so goddamn full. So goddamn perfect. He moans as soon as he's got all of David in him. Leans back enough to post, like riding a motorcycle, like riding a horse, slowly lifting himself up and down on David's dick. Easy, nice and slow to start.

It's payback, he's sure of it, because he's the one laid out now, helpless and gasping while Taylor moves against him. Wash grips his hips still, more to have something to keep him grounded than from any ability to guide Taylor's motions. His fingers tense and squeeze in time with his movements, loosening when he rises up only to grip hard when he sinks back down onto Wash's cock. He opens his eyes a crack, watches with rapture as York rides him, feels like he can see every slick trail of sweat, every corded muscle and tendon and it's so perfect.

Head lolled back on his shoulders, face tipped to the ceiling he fights the impulse to grind himself to completion in thirty seconds. No. He promised David a long, slow ride. So he counts. Three up, four down. Clench. Shudder. Repeat. A three count up, holding for two, four down. Slow and steady and maddening, the muscles of his abdomen clenching against the intrusion, against the slick hot perfect feeling of David when he's full, the hollow ache of him as he pulls away.

It's painful, the way Taylor is moving against him, painfully slow for both of them when Wash kind of wants to grab him and fuck him hard and fast. But no, no he needs this to last, to hold onto it for as long as possible. Taylor is hot and tight around him, and each movement sends sparks of pleasure right through him which settle in his stomach warmly. God, he can hardly breathe. He jerks his hips up to meet York as he slides back down, needing to feel him, not wanting to be apart even for a moment.

Slow. So slow that it hurts but it'll be good soon. Between the fifth and sixth thrust- or is it the tenth? He settles and just. Rolls his hips while fully seated. Clenches tight around David and moans at the thick heat spearing into him.

That drags a a low keening cry from Wash, his entire body jerking as Taylor grinds down against him. "Fuck... oh god..." He can't fucking breathe, too lost in the heat and sensation. He starts to rock upwards, trying to match Taylor's movements with his own.

The more David tries to speed things up, the more Taylor growls and slows right back down. They're doing this at his pace, damn it, and his pace is SLOW. It gets to the point where he leans forward and scrabbles for David's hands, grabbing them and pinning them to the bed. Squeezes them to make a point as he gives another slow, oh so slow grind.

His eyes fly open when his hands are grabbed, his own hands tightening on Taylor's hips, just for a moment before he relaxes again. And then it feels kind of good, having his arms pinned and Taylor rocking slowly against him. Maddening but good. "Pushy," he says breathlessly, grinning up at him.

Taylor rolls his eyes- he can't talk but he can manage that much- and resumes his slow, steady grinds for a little while longer. Once he's used to it, when the burn is gone and everything just feels good and hot and slick and amazing- he starts posting again, guiding himself up with his thighs and letting Gravity drop him back down onto David's hips.

Wash gives a helpless, panting sort of laugh at that, which trails off quickly when Taylor starts moving again. Feels too good and all he can do is lie there and let him do what he wants. There's a kind of freedom in that that he enjoys more than he'd thought he would. He's a little in love with the way that the muscles in Taylor's thighs move when he raises himself up. Not that he gets much time to admire it when he lowers himself the next minute, wrenching a moan from him.

Up and down with the odd grind, holding David down and holding him in, riding him and owning him as much as he possibly could through every shudder, every twist, and every clench of his body. He wants to keep it slow. Needs to keep it slow but soon the heated need in the pit of his stomach starts to take over and he works harder, short, shallow little lifts and falls that have him rocking in place more than anything else, trying to get more, harder, deeper-

"Please, Taylor-" He's barely coherent now, words slurred and full of desperate need. Each movement is maddening, drives him higher and higher and he's so close, so fucking close.

Sweat slick his palms skid off of David's wrists to curl in his hands, fingers clenching at every drop and it makes him twitch, how hard, how hot, how intense this has all become and he can barely breathe past the steady stream of broken moaning, circular, cracked syllables of David's name as he leans back and tilts his hips just enough to get his cock grazing right along his prostate and-

His body locks up, his head rolls back and he shudders, spurting hot and thick on David's abdomen, coming untouched.

He wraps his fingers around Taylor's twining them together so he's as much holding him there, as Taylor is holding him down. The air is thick, heavy between them, and all he can do is curse and moan and whine because he's so close and Taylor is so hot, so perfect. His heart is pounding, a heavy rhythm. He's sure that the entire camp will be able to hear it. Doesn't care. How can he?

"Oh Christ," Wash groans when Taylor comes, and he tightens up around Wash's cock as he does, like Wash can feel every shudder that makes its way through him.

Done. Done and gone but David's still an insistent searing heat lodged inside him- even if he's done, even if it makes his breath shear and his body twitch, he braces himself on his knees and lifts up again. Keeps working David over till he comes too- even when it's too much. When he's oversensitive and it's gone from good to too much to oh god why- he's not stopping till David's come.

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