Mm... [ So he lies there, contemplating for one moment. ] Okay. [ Snort. ] Okay. Here.
[ Both his hands move to curl around both of Jean-Paul's wrists, thumbs stroking over the fronts of them. ] I'm thinking about / the stupid smile on his mouth / while he thinks he has me cornered.
And how it feels to run my tongue / over it.
How it feels to taste a star.
If want is tangible, it's this. [ Lifting his hand, Logan's knuckles stroke along Jean-Paul's jaw, moving towards his chin as his index curls beneath it and his thumb rests atop it. ] His mouth.
His stupid, smug mouth.
[ Then he pulls Jean-Paul down, voice low in a murmur. ] He says my name and the sky is talking.
[ The blush is sweet. He can hear Sasquatch now, holding back an appalled laugh because nobody calls Jean-Paul sweet, but it is, and Logan falls, and his eyes are soft with obvious, untold sentiment. ]
A romantic. [ He lifts up on the elbow of his free arm and leans in to kiss Jean-Paul right on the mouth. ]
[Any possible reply is cut off by that kiss, and it's just as well - this is one of the few times Jean-Paul is left speechless.
He kisses back like maybe Logan's about to disappear, like he'll never get another chance. Warm and wet and full of emotions impossible to express aloud.]
The hand on Jean-Paul's chin moves to grasp the corner of his jaw, to hold him close as he shivers and takes everything he has to give. Logan's other hand follows suit, cupping him and holding him steady, and he thinks he's blushing, too.
His eyes shut, nostrils flaring just slightly as he takes Jean-Paul's scent in. The desperation, the need to be close, is palpable and Logan whines because of it, tastes it on his tongue even as he pushes it into Jean-Paul's mouth.
[It's as if a current has been switched on; every noise Logan makes, every move of his body, feels electric. Jean-Paul devours Logan's mouth as his hands roam everywhere, absolutely everywhere they can reach.
His hips rock foward, pushing what is shaping up to be a pretty good erection against Logan's thigh.
He finally has to pull his mouth away, breathing hard.]
[ The sight of Jean-Paul flushed like this, dishevelled like this, makes him weak. Logan can only imagine he's not much better, his shirt already undone and the fabric of everything he wears rumpled beneath Jean-Paul's demanding hands. He's trying to catch his breath too, chest rising and falling, shoulders heaving, fingers moving to brush over the locks just above Jean-Paul's ears and stroke down towards the sides of his neck. ]
The hell did I do? [ It might have been more effective if Logan didn't sound some version of wrecked already, flustered by the kiss, the weight of Jean-Paul's cock, and resisting the urge to spread his legs like the aforementioned jelly.
He licks his own lips, tasting the air between them. ] I was gentle when I kissed you.
[ Overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover what Logan feels. ]
Fuck-- [ It's a gasping sort of noise, and Logan only dimly has enough awareness to stroke his thumbs over the curve of Jean-Paul's ears and touch the pointed tips there. Everything else kind of blurs, his trousers feeling tight and his heart beating hard, and God, the smell of Jean-Paul. The sheer want that rolls off of him in waves, thick and overwhelming and enough to have Logan bucking up in response even without the teeth in his neck and the shameless way he offers it. ]
I. God. No. [ He huffs, his eyes shutting. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat and his brain fogs over, one hand sliding over the back of Jean-Paul's neck and over his spine, down to his hip. ] I don't.
[ So his own hips lift, thighs parting, the left one slipping over Jean-Paul's prick and sending a thorough shiver down Logan's spine. ] Show me.
[Every word Logan gasps is a gift, and although treasured, Jean-Paul greedily pushes for more. He may not have enhanced senses, but all of his regular ones are singing that, yes, Logan wants him as badly as he himself wants Logan.
He makes a desperate keening noise when the tips of his ears are touched, hips thrusting mindlessly.]
Ah. Ouais.
[He sits back, unbuttoning his own shirt in a blur. He takes Logan's hand and puts it over his heart. It's racing, his chest rising and falling. When he speaks, it is in French.]
This. It is fast becoming the case that it beats only for you.
[He leans back down as he tosses his shirt off. His hands cradle Logan's face as he kisses his mouth, making a point to do it both deep and slow. When he pulls back he locks his gaze with Logan's. His hips rock forward deliberately.]
[ Jean-Paul's heartbeats feel as fast as a hummingbird's, as strong as a lion's. Logan's hand remains pressed to his chest even as he's kissed, a moan sounding in his throat at the attention, the care, how fucking solid it is to have his face held and his lips kissed. Logan's fingers curl over the space on Jean-Paul's chest, and a high, sighing sound escapes him.
Not a bit of what Jean-Paul's said is a lie. He hears it. Smells it. When the kiss breaks and Logan is left looking up at him through hooded eyes, he sees it, too (and shivers just at the way Jean-Paul looks at him, real and burning and new). ]
Je comprends. [ He's breathless, whispering because he's no other choice, but he gets it. He knows it. His blood pulses with the knowledge, his mind turned to dust.
Logan dips his head, hand slipping from Jean-Paul's chest to wrap an arm around his neck and make space for his lips. Logan kisses over his heart, shivering at the beating against his lips, and kisses again, mouthing over him. ] I understand. God. [ He wraps both arms around Jean-Paul now to hold him close, to steal another kiss from his mouth. Just that contact alone makes him ache, even if it's chaste, even if all he does is suck on his lips as he pulls back.
No pretension, no lies, no jokes, Logan flushes pink, but.
He smiles, as open as he'd been with the jellyfish. ] You make me happy, Jean-Paul. [ And it means the world to him. ]
[Jean-Paul's stare is intense - it betrays a single-minded determination and passion, and right now every bit of both is focused on Logan. He wants this man. He has him, and he has no intention of letting him go.
When Logan kisses his chest he finally lets his eyes close. His head lolls back, and his breath catches in his throat. His skin is burning, every inch of his body yearning for the lips that move to his mouth.
And then Logan is there, smiling, and he finds he can scarcely breathe again. He hates it. He loves it. He cannot remember a time he has ever felt so deliriously out of control.
Jean-Paul tries to speak and simply croaks, unable to make the switch over to Enlish right away.]
You make me happier than any man ever has.
[He almost adds more, 'please don't hurt me' or 'this can't possibly end well.' But instead he leans in to kiss Logan again.]
[ The kiss is enough. The kiss is the closest thing to perfect they can get.
Logan understands fear, understands that connections and sentiments aren't what Jean-Paul is used to, but if he's anything for anybody, then he's the fool who's fearless whenever it's necessary.
He thinks it's necessary now.
So he falls in headfirst, deepening the kiss with parted lips. He slips his left hand up to stroke the curve and point of Jean-Paul's ear gently as the other brushes down his shoulder and the broad expanse of his back. Then one of his thighs lifts to wrap a leg around Jean-Paul's waist and pull him in, and Logan presses up against him, hot in his belly and groaning with want.
Logan kisses him long and slow, and shivers when it breaks and he's left panting against Jean-Paul's mouth. ]
You said, [ another kiss, a soft suck to Jean-Paul's lip ] said you wanted to spoil me.
[ The smile he wears turns teasing, Logan's thumb and index rubbing the point of Jean-Paul's ear between them, and his words come in a purr. ] Does fucking me count?
[Is it possible to melt when you're as hard as he is? It certainly feels that way to Jean-Paul. He does alright until Logan touches his ear again, and that undoes whatever thing veneer of self control he has. He sighs and just clings, kissing and running his hands through Logan's hair blindly.
He kisses until his mouth feels bruised, until Logan pulls back. Jean-Paul's eyes are half-lidded and smouldering, his breath coming in shallow pants as Logan continues to play with his ear.]
Logan. [His voice is firm, even if he's still breathing hard.] I will fuck you any way you want me to. Any. Way. You could ask me to put on a goddamn french maid's costume and nail you to the tune of "be our guest" and right now I'd comply.
[ He can't help the laugh, the mental Jesus fucking Christ, this man in his head. But the sentiment comes across perfectly, and Logan kisses Jean-Paul on the lips, his fingers releasing his ear if only to give him some measure of composure. Then Logan turns them and nudges Jean-Paul's back down into the mattress, knees on either side of his hips and his hands carefully set down by his head. ]
Think I just want you to finger me before you fuck me. [ The way he tucks some stray hair over Jean-Paul's ear is sweet, reverent, but his other hand goes shamelessly into his bedside drawer to tug the lube in there out. He deposits this nicely onto Jean-Paul's chest, then pats it once with his hand. ] You can do that, [ he kisses his cheek, whispering lowly ] right?
Edited (REWRITING SENTENCES DONT MIND ME) 2018-10-17 05:26 (UTC)
[Jean-Paul is ridiculous. It's a side effect of not giving a fuck about most things. He breathes deep and slow and relaxes back against the bed. He looks up at Logan with a mix of amusement and frank adoration.
Jean-Paul looks down at the bottle on his chest, then flicks his gaze back up. He smirks, eyebrows lifting.]
I can do that. [He is very clearly trying not to laugh.] But we should probably get undressed first, non?
What, you want to watch? [ The playful tone is still there, still prevalent, but Logan sheds the hoodie he's wearing with a fluid, lethargic ease. One hand leaves it, then the other, and he drops it off to the side of his bed, more than aware of Jean-Paul's eyes, of the spice in his scent and how badly that makes Logan want him.
His shirt's already mostly undone, so it takes close to no effort to unbutton it all the way, but rather than shrug it off with the same ease as his hoodie, he gives Jean-Paul a disbelieving look anyway.
And then he brings one hand up to push its opposite sleeve down, slow and careful and exposing the curve of his bicep. Mirroring this on the other side, Logan's left with both sleeves at his elbows, and he lets them slip away with gravity and the smallest flicks of his wrists. ]
[And here it is again - that intensity. It's very easy to dismiss Jean-Paul as cold and unfeeling. But underneath the suits and the perfect hair there lives the same passionate soul that has repeated the mantra of "I-want" since his teens.
He watches every move Logan makes with unabashed lust. He watches him, perhaps, like a predator stalking prey.
The second that shirt is off, Jean-Paul strips out of his own. He moves slowly, if only to prove that he has enough self control to manage it.]
[ The rest. God. Logan wonders how normal it is to feel winded when all he's done is kiss and take his shirt off, but he's hyper-aware of the way Jean-Paul looks at him-- the fucking laser precision, the darkness in his eyes.
It makes Logan's throat dry, but he undoes his belt regardless and lets it fall with a metallic clack to the floor. Then his cargo pants are unfastened, his thumbs hooking over the hem, and he lifts high enough on his knees to pull them down his thighs. He's hard in his underwear, dark fabric stretched tight over his prick, but he leaves it on as he bends instead, forearms keeping him steady and hovering over Jean-Paul's body.
[Jean-Paul's eyes drink in every exposed inch of flesh, every curve and angle of Logan's body. He kisses back, languid and warm.
Jean-Paul nods in response to Logan's question, smirking softly. Then he's sitting up as much as he can, quick as ever, hooking a leg and arm around Logan's body. He rolls, making sure to knock one of Logan's arms out from underneath him so the heavier man can fall to the bed. Places neatly reversed, Jean-Paul is suddenly at the foot of the bed, yanking Logan's pants off and tossing them to the floor. He pauses, unbuttoning his trousers.]
You are really gorgeous, did you know that?
[He slithers out of his pants, revealing black briefs. Jean-Paul moves up, sitting on Logan's legs. He runs his hands up his thighs, over his hips and abdomen.]
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[Not even asking. Rude.]
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That ain't how spoiling works.
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[Little wiggle.]
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[ Both his hands move to curl around both of Jean-Paul's wrists, thumbs stroking over the fronts of them. ] I'm thinking about / the stupid smile on his mouth / while he thinks he has me cornered.
And how it feels to run my tongue / over it.
How it feels to taste a star.
If want is tangible, it's this. [ Lifting his hand, Logan's knuckles stroke along Jean-Paul's jaw, moving towards his chin as his index curls beneath it and his thumb rests atop it. ] His mouth.
His stupid, smug mouth.
[ Then he pulls Jean-Paul down, voice low in a murmur. ] He says my name and the sky is talking.
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When Logan touches his face he blushes right to the tips of his ears. He opens his mouth once, closes it, then lets himself be pulled closer.]
...who wrote that? [His whole body feels flushed, his stomach fluttery.]
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A romantic. [ He lifts up on the elbow of his free arm and leans in to kiss Jean-Paul right on the mouth. ]
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He kisses back like maybe Logan's about to disappear, like he'll never get another chance. Warm and wet and full of emotions impossible to express aloud.]
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The hand on Jean-Paul's chin moves to grasp the corner of his jaw, to hold him close as he shivers and takes everything he has to give. Logan's other hand follows suit, cupping him and holding him steady, and he thinks he's blushing, too.
His eyes shut, nostrils flaring just slightly as he takes Jean-Paul's scent in. The desperation, the need to be close, is palpable and Logan whines because of it, tastes it on his tongue even as he pushes it into Jean-Paul's mouth.
Jesus. Jesus. ]
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His hips rock foward, pushing what is shaping up to be a pretty good erection against Logan's thigh.
He finally has to pull his mouth away, breathing hard.]
You.
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The hell did I do? [ It might have been more effective if Logan didn't sound some version of wrecked already, flustered by the kiss, the weight of Jean-Paul's cock, and resisting the urge to spread his legs like the aforementioned jelly.
He licks his own lips, tasting the air between them. ] I was gentle when I kissed you.
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You. Ridiculous. Romantic. Beautiful. Man. [Murmured between attacks of lips and tongue and teeth. He grinds against Logan, shameless as always.
Jean-Paul shivers at the feeling of Logan's fingers in his hair, moving his head so they brush his ears. He makes a low groaning noise when they do.]
You have no idea what you do to me.
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Fuck-- [ It's a gasping sort of noise, and Logan only dimly has enough awareness to stroke his thumbs over the curve of Jean-Paul's ears and touch the pointed tips there. Everything else kind of blurs, his trousers feeling tight and his heart beating hard, and God, the smell of Jean-Paul. The sheer want that rolls off of him in waves, thick and overwhelming and enough to have Logan bucking up in response even without the teeth in his neck and the shameless way he offers it. ]
I. God. No. [ He huffs, his eyes shutting. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat and his brain fogs over, one hand sliding over the back of Jean-Paul's neck and over his spine, down to his hip. ] I don't.
[ So his own hips lift, thighs parting, the left one slipping over Jean-Paul's prick and sending a thorough shiver down Logan's spine. ] Show me.
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He makes a desperate keening noise when the tips of his ears are touched, hips thrusting mindlessly.]
Ah. Ouais.
[He sits back, unbuttoning his own shirt in a blur. He takes Logan's hand and puts it over his heart. It's racing, his chest rising and falling. When he speaks, it is in French.]
This. It is fast becoming the case that it beats only for you.
[He leans back down as he tosses his shirt off. His hands cradle Logan's face as he kisses his mouth, making a point to do it both deep and slow. When he pulls back he locks his gaze with Logan's. His hips rock forward deliberately.]
You understand?
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Not a bit of what Jean-Paul's said is a lie. He hears it. Smells it. When the kiss breaks and Logan is left looking up at him through hooded eyes, he sees it, too (and shivers just at the way Jean-Paul looks at him, real and burning and new). ]
Je comprends. [ He's breathless, whispering because he's no other choice, but he gets it. He knows it. His blood pulses with the knowledge, his mind turned to dust.
Logan dips his head, hand slipping from Jean-Paul's chest to wrap an arm around his neck and make space for his lips. Logan kisses over his heart, shivering at the beating against his lips, and kisses again, mouthing over him. ] I understand. God. [ He wraps both arms around Jean-Paul now to hold him close, to steal another kiss from his mouth. Just that contact alone makes him ache, even if it's chaste, even if all he does is suck on his lips as he pulls back.
No pretension, no lies, no jokes, Logan flushes pink, but.
He smiles, as open as he'd been with the jellyfish. ] You make me happy, Jean-Paul. [ And it means the world to him. ]
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When Logan kisses his chest he finally lets his eyes close. His head lolls back, and his breath catches in his throat. His skin is burning, every inch of his body yearning for the lips that move to his mouth.
And then Logan is there, smiling, and he finds he can scarcely breathe again. He hates it. He loves it. He cannot remember a time he has ever felt so deliriously out of control.
Jean-Paul tries to speak and simply croaks, unable to make the switch over to Enlish right away.]
You make me happier than any man ever has.
[He almost adds more, 'please don't hurt me' or 'this can't possibly end well.' But instead he leans in to kiss Logan again.]
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Logan understands fear, understands that connections and sentiments aren't what Jean-Paul is used to, but if he's anything for anybody, then he's the fool who's fearless whenever it's necessary.
He thinks it's necessary now.
So he falls in headfirst, deepening the kiss with parted lips. He slips his left hand up to stroke the curve and point of Jean-Paul's ear gently as the other brushes down his shoulder and the broad expanse of his back. Then one of his thighs lifts to wrap a leg around Jean-Paul's waist and pull him in, and Logan presses up against him, hot in his belly and groaning with want.
Logan kisses him long and slow, and shivers when it breaks and he's left panting against Jean-Paul's mouth. ]
You said, [ another kiss, a soft suck to Jean-Paul's lip ] said you wanted to spoil me.
[ The smile he wears turns teasing, Logan's thumb and index rubbing the point of Jean-Paul's ear between them, and his words come in a purr. ] Does fucking me count?
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He kisses until his mouth feels bruised, until Logan pulls back. Jean-Paul's eyes are half-lidded and smouldering, his breath coming in shallow pants as Logan continues to play with his ear.]
Logan. [His voice is firm, even if he's still breathing hard.] I will fuck you any way you want me to. Any. Way. You could ask me to put on a goddamn french maid's costume and nail you to the tune of "be our guest" and right now I'd comply.
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Think I just want you to finger me before you fuck me. [ The way he tucks some stray hair over Jean-Paul's ear is sweet, reverent, but his other hand goes shamelessly into his bedside drawer to tug the lube in there out. He deposits this nicely onto Jean-Paul's chest, then pats it once with his hand. ] You can do that, [ he kisses his cheek, whispering lowly ] right?
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Jean-Paul looks down at the bottle on his chest, then flicks his gaze back up. He smirks, eyebrows lifting.]
I can do that. [He is very clearly trying not to laugh.] But we should probably get undressed first, non?
...do it slowly?
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His shirt's already mostly undone, so it takes close to no effort to unbutton it all the way, but rather than shrug it off with the same ease as his hoodie, he gives Jean-Paul a disbelieving look anyway.
And then he brings one hand up to push its opposite sleeve down, slow and careful and exposing the curve of his bicep. Mirroring this on the other side, Logan's left with both sleeves at his elbows, and he lets them slip away with gravity and the smallest flicks of his wrists. ]
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[And here it is again - that intensity. It's very easy to dismiss Jean-Paul as cold and unfeeling. But underneath the suits and the perfect hair there lives the same passionate soul that has repeated the mantra of "I-want" since his teens.
He watches every move Logan makes with unabashed lust. He watches him, perhaps, like a predator stalking prey.
The second that shirt is off, Jean-Paul strips out of his own. He moves slowly, if only to prove that he has enough self control to manage it.]
The rest.
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It makes Logan's throat dry, but he undoes his belt regardless and lets it fall with a metallic clack to the floor. Then his cargo pants are unfastened, his thumbs hooking over the hem, and he lifts high enough on his knees to pull them down his thighs. He's hard in his underwear, dark fabric stretched tight over his prick, but he leaves it on as he bends instead, forearms keeping him steady and hovering over Jean-Paul's body.
A kiss. ] Think you could pull 'em all the way?
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Jean-Paul nods in response to Logan's question, smirking softly. Then he's sitting up as much as he can, quick as ever, hooking a leg and arm around Logan's body. He rolls, making sure to knock one of Logan's arms out from underneath him so the heavier man can fall to the bed. Places neatly reversed, Jean-Paul is suddenly at the foot of the bed, yanking Logan's pants off and tossing them to the floor. He pauses, unbuttoning his trousers.]
You are really gorgeous, did you know that?
[He slithers out of his pants, revealing black briefs. Jean-Paul moves up, sitting on Logan's legs. He runs his hands up his thighs, over his hips and abdomen.]
Look at this. Perfect. And all mine to play wit'.
[He leans down to kiss Logan's mouth, smiling.]
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i need you to know i now feel inexplicable attachment to matt bomer whenever i see him
Awwwe <3
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i'm totally down for ftb if you'd rather o7
I'm cool either way. These two are the worst and I love em
IIIII LOOOOVE GARBAAAAAAGE
WE ARE TRASH
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"go, go, i cannot look at you" is so powerful i'm
XD
theyre so cute ok sobs
painfully so!
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