ukan | IC CONTACT

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."

Alec, still pinned beneath him, jumps slightly and almost taps him on the nose but misses because of the angle.

"I'm pretty sure I've proven this -" Alec squeezes as hard as he can in turn. "Is plenty for me. But I like orgasms and I'd like to keep having them while you work on yours, if it's all the same to you."

He shudders at the overstimulation and moans softly, enjoying it. "When have I ever left you unsatisfied?" Lark chuckles. "What else do I need to get for you?"

"You haven't," Alec answers, smirking as he stretches up to tap the headboard, to signal to the environment control to drop the temperature in the room without having to disturb Lark. Life is about adaptation.

"But your needs are different from mine." He's still watching Lark's face while he talks, for the reaction if not to gauge if he's miscalculated somehow. He rubs his thumb along the space between Lark's two lowest ribs, and lets his voice go smoky. "Imagine fucking me for hours - your endurance and my recovery time. Right there above me, touching me, smelling me, tasting me, but not able to feel me - fucking me through the floor and staying unsatisfied yourself. I imagine that would be pretty frustrating."

Edited 2021-06-10 03:31 (UTC)

He's just come, still recovering from it, and yet he wants Alec again. He won't let himself act on it but oh yes he can picture exactly what Alec is proposing.

"And how many times do you think I could get you off?" he murmurs, imagining taking Alec through his paces, wondering if he could coax an earnest groan from him instead of those Alec gives him just because he knows Lark likes to hear his voice when they fuck.

Alec makes a show of considering this, chewing his lower lip like he never does unless he knows Lark is watching.

"I mean, at least twice..."

"Twice in three hours?" He murmurs, brushing his lips against Alec's. "With me fucking you as hard as I can? We can do better than twice."

"I suppose that's probably true," Alec chuckles, and then he's kissing Lark, stops to say something, changes his mind and kisses him again.

"And I suppose it's only fair to let you choose something, too," he allows when he's had his fill enough to speak again.

"Some sort of sensory deprivation," Lark muses. His senses are so heightened that he's always curious how they'd do if one was muted.

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