[ This is very very good. Matt could do this for hours, but his body is telling him that there are more pressing urgencies to deal with. He shifts enough to test the friction of hip-against-hip. Not that Matt's super senses are needed to determine the growing level of arousal between them.
He pushes his hands up under Stephen's shirt, then trails his fingers down to edge along the waistband of Stephen's pants. Is it too eager? Matt doesn't really care. ]
[ he's half-hard already and not particularly ashamed about it. that's what a two-year functional dry spell and an inability to deal with emotional problems get you: the need to deal with matters physically and with urgency instead.
plus, he likes matt. actually likes him, to his chagrin, despite the fact that the things he knows about matt could probably fit in a roughly shoebox-sized container. matt is just ... disarming. inexplicably so. and stephen, slow to appreciate anyone's company, has never been easily charmed.
he huffs out a short laugh when he feels matt's fingers trail at the hem of his shirt. underneath he's all lean hard muscle, the suggestion of fitness maintained through hard work but not for vanity. both of his own hands, then, coming down onto matt's hips, pushing him back against the counter again in a slow inexorable grind. his cock is thick and easily delineated through his jeans, even at half-mast, the friction maddening, and the movement sinuous enough to suggest that stephen—as much as he appreciates a fancy condo—also wouldn't be averse to just, you know. fucking him here. ]
[ Would Matt complain if Stephen bent him over the counter? Probably not. It's becoming increasingly obvious to Matt how long it's been since he's gotten laid, and his over-sensitivity could become an embarrassing problem for him at this rate.
Whatever friction Stephen might feel, Matt feels tenfold. He sucks in a breath as it sends a jolt up his spine, but he's restrained enough to withhold any sound that might threaten to escape his lips. For now. What he needs is a moment for his body to adjust to the sudden stimulation. ]
Too many clothes. [ He manages to mutter it between heated kisses. ]
[ the words pull a scoff out of him, abrupt and genuinely amused. he kisses matt again, breathing out harsh and quick against his mouth— ]
Yeah. I got it.
[ got it, or him, it doesn't matter. stephen's hands, unsteady for more than one reason now, make their way down to the hem of matt's shirt to help pull it over his head; he's reaching down, presumably with the intention of shedding his own clothes, but it's hard when he's still intent on kissing the living daylights out of him and skirting an eager touch down matt's chest all at the same time. and then he laughs again, warm fingers splaying over matt's abs. ]
God. Warn a guy next time.
[ seriously, nothing about their interactions suggested matt's abs would look and feel like that. ]
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He pushes his hands up under Stephen's shirt, then trails his fingers down to edge along the waistband of Stephen's pants. Is it too eager? Matt doesn't really care. ]
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plus, he likes matt. actually likes him, to his chagrin, despite the fact that the things he knows about matt could probably fit in a roughly shoebox-sized container. matt is just ... disarming. inexplicably so. and stephen, slow to appreciate anyone's company, has never been easily charmed.
he huffs out a short laugh when he feels matt's fingers trail at the hem of his shirt. underneath he's all lean hard muscle, the suggestion of fitness maintained through hard work but not for vanity. both of his own hands, then, coming down onto matt's hips, pushing him back against the counter again in a slow inexorable grind. his cock is thick and easily delineated through his jeans, even at half-mast, the friction maddening, and the movement sinuous enough to suggest that stephen—as much as he appreciates a fancy condo—also wouldn't be averse to just, you know. fucking him here. ]
no subject
Whatever friction Stephen might feel, Matt feels tenfold. He sucks in a breath as it sends a jolt up his spine, but he's restrained enough to withhold any sound that might threaten to escape his lips. For now. What he needs is a moment for his body to adjust to the sudden stimulation. ]
Too many clothes. [ He manages to mutter it between heated kisses. ]
no subject
Yeah. I got it.
[ got it, or him, it doesn't matter. stephen's hands, unsteady for more than one reason now, make their way down to the hem of matt's shirt to help pull it over his head; he's reaching down, presumably with the intention of shedding his own clothes, but it's hard when he's still intent on kissing the living daylights out of him and skirting an eager touch down matt's chest all at the same time. and then he laughs again, warm fingers splaying over matt's abs. ]
God. Warn a guy next time.
[ seriously, nothing about their interactions suggested matt's abs would look and feel like that. ]