ukan | IC CONTACT

"Are you saying that not fucking you is equivalent to an espresso?" he laughs, rolling with him, silently cursing and praising Alec at the same time because fucking Alec and not finishing is much, much harder than being fucked and not finishing.

"Are you saying it's not?" he grins, and just for good measure here is where his hand dips below Lark's waistline; here is where he strips his hand just once up the length of him, then works on pushing down both their sleep pants at least far enough to give them both room to work.

"You're really going to torture me like this?" He groans, fighting the urge to roll against Alec's hand, pacifying the urge by biting Alec's shoulder. "You don't want to fuck me instead?"

"Nope," he replies, cheerfully, his voice rough with the effort of forming sentences rather than just using his mouth and hands and body to get what he wants.

"You asked, and I'm a helper. If it's too hard -" His hand brushes again, but just a touch. "- I'd settle for your mouth."

"Settle for? What are you saying?" He thinks about it for a few seconds though, decides no, he has the self-control for this.

"Oh nothing," he teases, stretching back towards the nightstand without having to look, digging in the drawer one handed.

"Just that if you think you can't handle us both..." He trails off with a shrug, warming the lube in his hand, not offering it but not not. Lark is not the only one that knows how to dangle a challenge before his husband.

He can't hear a challenge and not take it, can he? He smirks and reaches up, snaps open the lube, pours a good amount in Alec's palm. "Go ahead."

Alec can handle sex without lube, as long as they're both mindful of it - or he just accepts that he doesn't care, which occasionally he does. But it's much, much nicer with it, and Alec grins slow and delighted when Lark does that.

He reaches down between them again, first for himself - he likes the cool slick shock - and then for Lark when his hand and the remainder there have warmed again. He works with his teeth and his tongue along Lark's collarbone while he does so, and finally murmurs, "Whenever you are, darling."

"You are way, way too pleased with yourself," he mumbles fondly, pressing slowly into him, stopping when he needs to seize control of himself again.

"Any reason -" He doesn't quite hitch, doesn't quite not, while he digs his fingers into Lark's skin and pulls him in as much as Lark pushes, while he does his best to relax.

"I shouldn't be?" he finishes, shamelessly unrepentant, leaning up to kiss Lark, and then again.

"You're going to find a way to cheat," he knows Alec will, just like he knows if he keeps breathing carefully he can win this challenge. Breathe carefully, measuring it out as he rocks slowly out, then roughly in. "But I don't know what it is yet."

"MMmmmmmm -" Alec groans long, low with how good that feels, his hands smoothing up Lark's thighs to rest at his hips. He lets Lark watch him relax back into the pillows like he has every intention of staying there, of letting Lark have him without any fight or protest; lets his neck stretch back long, lets his eyes fall half closed.

"What makes you think I need to cheat?" Cats with canary feathers on their fur aren't this happy.

"You're cheating now," he complains, pausing again, shivering slightly with the effort. There's no way he'll win this if he doesn't stroke Alec too, so he does, with one slightly-lube-slicked hand.

It makes him laugh - "I'm not!" - but then Lark's hand is on him and his mouth drops open and his nails dig in unbidden. He's not the one that has set the challenge for himself to keep control, though, so he's free to twitch up into the pressure.

Free to tighten down on Lark inside him, pulling his lower lip through his teeth with another encouraging moan.

Propped up on one elbow like this, and without the distraction of being able to fuck him with abandon, Lark is left feeling Alec's muscles squeezing him, feeling Alec in his palm, watching the way his expression shifts.

"Cheater," he accuses again but in a whisper, kissing below his ear, working his hand desperately to try to get Alec off before he loses his mind.

"Yes."

And he is a cheater, it must be said, because sometimes he forgets to let himself show his enjoyment. Not tonight. Tonight he makes sure Lark sees every slight drop open of his mouth when he catches the right spot, lets him see his eyes drop closed, squeeze, snap open again with a grin when Lark's hand squeezes just right.

Makes sure there's a shudder and a rasp in his voice when he moans, "Harder -"

"Dammit-" The problem is always that as strong as Lark's self-control is--and it is, and it's only grown since he met Alec--he was never in mortal danger if he showed an expression out of line. He was never going to be killed if he enjoyed a joke, or fucked someone.

So he does fuck Alec harder, testing himself and knowing he's losing this game. "Love you-" he rasps, not entirely on purpose. His self-control is slipping and he doubles down on it. "Bastard-"

Alec does not have to lose this encounter. He can hover right on the edge like this as long as it takes, sinking back into how good the heat and weight of Lark above him, inside of him, around him as much as the luxury of being able to trust he has the time to do that, and focusing past it on all the little things he ignores to do so long enough to back himself off again. He has never told Lark why he can do this. He doesn't want anyone to think about it, and it falls neatly in with the rest of his trauma anyway.

He writhes, though, and lets himself feel it, lets himself enjoy what his husband is doing to him, lets himself know that he is here and Lark is here and if the way he says Lark's name is lewd with lust while he ruts up into Lark's hand and rocks back to meet him at every thrust he can, well. There's no one else that's going to care, is there?

He doesn't have to come when he does, but he doesn't not have to, and sometimes that's just as good.

There comes a precipice where Lark could stop, could pull out, could leave himself agonized with want, enjoying the pain of it. But Alec hasn't come yet, so he keeps going, keeps going even after he feels Alec spill hot against his hand.

He kisses Alec when he feels himself get so, so close, and he breathes hard against Alec's mouth as he finds release in a deep shudder. Dammit. He shouldn't be so satisfied in defeat.

He kisses Alec with aching gentleness. "Cheater..."

Alec fucks Lark through his climax, every bit as proactive from the bottom as he is the top. He relaxes with him after, takes his sated, lazy time with the kisses he's smiling from behind.

"I love it when you curse my name," he murmurs, stroking his fingers up and down Lark's side. "But don't worry, I have some ideas to help you."

He loves this man so much it scares him, always.

"Oh yeah?" the brush of Alec's fingers relaxes him still more, and it will always surprise him how he's learned to simply set everything else in his life outside the door when Alec has him like this: worn out and happy and still inside him.

"What ideas are those?"

Between the two of them, Lark is the one who has it in him to relax like this. Alec is learning, and he thinks sometimes that he could get there like this, with Lark boneless and heavy on top of him, trusting him with his back to the door.

He kisses along Lark's jaw to just below his ear, and smiles, voice low.

"Do you want to know? Or do you want to wait until I have the supplies?"

"Supplies?" Returning the affection, slow kisses along Alec's shoulder. Sometimes he thinks about the sex they had when they first got together, how it had been desperate and frantic, snatched up like they might run after. Sometimes they did.

And now it's rare that they don't stay like this, unless Lark has work or Alec has somewhere to be.

"Now I want to know. I can help get those supplies."

Sometimes Alec still wants that. Sometimes he wants a quickie in the car or a handjob in the elevator, a stiff shot of sex in the middle of the day to distract them both and prime them for more later. He never lets on how frequently he lays here like this, listening for the footsteps coming to take Lark away for good.

His teeth flash in the half light of the room. "Well. I guess there's one thing you could pick out. Maybe two." Now he rolls his head so he can see Lark's face, eyes bright.

"You're going to need a strap on. Make sure it's strong."

One of those unconscious head-tilts. "What, this," rolling his hips, still as deep in Alec as he can be, "Isn't good enough for you?" He nips him. "Tell me."

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