[ 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.]
[ Happy, soft sounds rise in his throat as he's touched, the rumble in his chest loud and obvious. Logan's all too happy to take Jean-Paul's lips, but a disbelieving comment passes all the same: ] Jesus, "play" shouldn't sound so hot. [ He doesn't seem to mind, though, if the way his hands roam Jean-Paul's back and find the swell of his ass is any indication. He hooks the tips of his fingers under the waistband, touching bare skin, and then draws his hands around so he can slide one loving touch over his belly while a second strokes the muscle in Jean-Paul's thigh. ]
Mm. [ Leaning back lazily, his thumb stroking the firm line of Jean-Paul's abs, he brings his hand up to trace the weight of his cock in his underwear, and then a little higher to find the elastic and pull before it snaps back to Jean-Paul's skin. ] I'd compliment you, but your ego doesn't need it.
[ Logan certainly needs to swallow the saliva that builds in his mouth, however. Jean-Paul's scent is enough to get him whining, but he certainly loves to look and touch just as much. ]
Remember what you said-- [ Another gulp. ] Somethin' about fucking in a forest?
No-- [ A hah, a slight pinch to Jean-Paul's side. ] No. Christ.
Just. Made me think about positions. [ He swallows again, unsure where the hell all this drool is coming from (it's the smell, maybe; the pheromones sinking into him, making it hard for his brain to work more than the bare minimum). ] The way animals...
[ Deciding it's probably best not to continue, Logan brings both hands up Jean-Paul's torso, tracing skin and musculature and feeling how warm, how alive he is. ] If you bite the back of my neck I go boneless.
It's a-- a part of me likes it. It's crazy, but it works every time.
And I want it. [ Plain and simple. ] Later, when it's almost over, because it shuts me down, pure fucking mindless bliss and everything.
[ Cupping either side of Jean-Paul's jaw, he looks up at him with a half-amused grin. ] And-- mm. [ A resigned, yet happy noise. ] Shit. You're gorgeous, darlin'.
[The pinch gets an undignified giggle out of him, but he keeps watching Logan with same hungry expression. He listens, body undulating slowly as Logan runs his hands over him.]
Pure mindless bliss, hn? Ouais. I would like to give that to you. Very much.
[The grin, the hands at his face - and they are soft hands, contrary to what people assume - and most of all the darlin'... Jean-Paul melts again. The desire is still there, but for the moment some of the fierce "I'll fuck you into the mattress" energy is tempered by how completely happy he looks.]
Merci.
[He leans diwn to kiss Logan's mouth again. His hands roam, fingernails skating over the expanse of Logan's chest. One clever set of fingers stops to play with Logan's nipple, plucking and circling gently.]
[ Logan doesn't think he'll ever tire of these kisses, sighing weakly as Jean-Paul's lips cover his own once more. His back arches as his chest is touched, hips bucking when his nipple is played with, and he finds it impossible to hold back the moan. ]
Nnh, [ he whines lowly, though it's swiftly replaced with the rumbling purr still in his chest and jaw ] don't tease, Johnny.
It's called foreplay. [But he leans down to kiss him again, deep and with a little more heat. He backs off once more and searches the bed for the bottle that had of course fallen off during their wrestling. He finds it, sets it close by, and slides off of Logan with real regret.
He runs his hands up Logan's thighs, moving them to the waistband of his underpants. He tugs them down slowly, watching, biting his lower lip.]
[ His heart jumps in his chest at the sight of Jean-Paul above him-- a weird little feeling that he tries to stamp down with another gulp (he's been gulping too much, it feels). ] "How I like it"?
[ His hips lift slightly to accommodate the slide of his underwear, cock thick and hard as it curves towards his belly. Logan would feel ridiculous if he had the sense of mind for anything except how much he wants Jean-Paul to be close to him again. ]
[ Logan breathes in deep and growls with his exhalation, toes curling slightly as he rolls his hips up into Jean-Paul's fist on instinct. One hand is curled into the pillow above his head, and the other slips over his own throat before it slides to his chest to rest there. ]
I want you. [ Out of context it's cheesy, but Logan tends not to think more than that-- and couldn't now, the muscles of his thighs drawn tight as he thrusts up and sighs. The friction's amazing on its own, unbearably slow as Jean-Paul moves, and Logan's stomach twists and tightens in turn-- hot, an ache in his gut. ]
[Jean-Paul's hand moves up and down, pausing to reach lower and fondle Logan's balls. He watches the other man's face, smirking softly at the reactions.]
Pull your knees up. [A soft, velvety murmur. His free hand finds that bottle again, flipping up the lid. He takes his hand away for a moment to squirt lubricant onto it, then returns to slowly but firmly working Logan's cock. The new slickness of his hand makes it easier.]
[ So he lifts his knees, the hand on his chest slipping to grasp the back of one and pull it higher than the other. It's a terrible position-- vulnerable, prone, presenting-- but still he ruts up into the ring of Jean-Paul's fingers and shivers, the single foot still pressed to the bed curling its toes into the sheets.
Logan's noisy at least in terms of quantity, making soft sounds each time Jean-Paul's fist slides up towards the head and pulls his foreskin back down; the muscles of his ass go tight, too, each time he rolls his hips up. The lube is noisy, slippery between his prick and the steady slide of Jean-Paul's palm and fingers, and Logan leaks for it easy, drinking in the attention with fluttering lashes and parted lips. ] Ah, [ his thighs spread apart, the hand on the pillow moving to press the knuckle of his index to his mouth and take the scrape of his teeth ] God, fuck me, come on.
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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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Mm. [ Leaning back lazily, his thumb stroking the firm line of Jean-Paul's abs, he brings his hand up to trace the weight of his cock in his underwear, and then a little higher to find the elastic and pull before it snaps back to Jean-Paul's skin. ] I'd compliment you, but your ego doesn't need it.
[ Logan certainly needs to swallow the saliva that builds in his mouth, however. Jean-Paul's scent is enough to get him whining, but he certainly loves to look and touch just as much. ]
Remember what you said-- [ Another gulp. ] Somethin' about fucking in a forest?
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Play IS hot. [He flexes his legs, solely to show off the muscle Logan is stroking. When his waistband is snapped he merely lifts an eyebrow.]
Everyone likes compliments.
[He stretches deliberately, pulling his body taut.]
Ouais. I meant it. [Jean-Paul looks down at him, glittering and dangerous.] Did you wanna go now?
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Just. Made me think about positions. [ He swallows again, unsure where the hell all this drool is coming from (it's the smell, maybe; the pheromones sinking into him, making it hard for his brain to work more than the bare minimum). ] The way animals...
[ Deciding it's probably best not to continue, Logan brings both hands up Jean-Paul's torso, tracing skin and musculature and feeling how warm, how alive he is. ] If you bite the back of my neck I go boneless.
It's a-- a part of me likes it. It's crazy, but it works every time.
And I want it. [ Plain and simple. ] Later, when it's almost over, because it shuts me down, pure fucking mindless bliss and everything.
[ Cupping either side of Jean-Paul's jaw, he looks up at him with a half-amused grin. ] And-- mm. [ A resigned, yet happy noise. ] Shit. You're gorgeous, darlin'.
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Pure mindless bliss, hn? Ouais. I would like to give that to you. Very much.
[The grin, the hands at his face - and they are soft hands, contrary to what people assume - and most of all the darlin'... Jean-Paul melts again. The desire is still there, but for the moment some of the fierce "I'll fuck you into the mattress" energy is tempered by how completely happy he looks.]
Merci.
[He leans diwn to kiss Logan's mouth again. His hands roam, fingernails skating over the expanse of Logan's chest. One clever set of fingers stops to play with Logan's nipple, plucking and circling gently.]
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Nnh, [ he whines lowly, though it's swiftly replaced with the rumbling purr still in his chest and jaw ] don't tease, Johnny.
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It's called foreplay. [But he leans down to kiss him again, deep and with a little more heat. He backs off once more and searches the bed for the bottle that had of course fallen off during their wrestling. He finds it, sets it close by, and slides off of Logan with real regret.
He runs his hands up Logan's thighs, moving them to the waistband of his underpants. He tugs them down slowly, watching, biting his lower lip.]
You'll tell me how you like it, non?
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[ His hips lift slightly to accommodate the slide of his underwear, cock thick and hard as it curves towards his belly. Logan would feel ridiculous if he had the sense of mind for anything except how much he wants Jean-Paul to be close to him again. ]
...like "faster", "harder"? [ Jesus. ]
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He looks up at Logan when he speaks... and then laughs.]
Ouais, Logan. Like "harder" or "faster" or "more like that" or "kiss me while you do it."
[He takes hold of Logan's cock and strokes it slowly.]
I like knowing what you want.
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I want you. [ Out of context it's cheesy, but Logan tends not to think more than that-- and couldn't now, the muscles of his thighs drawn tight as he thrusts up and sighs. The friction's amazing on its own, unbearably slow as Jean-Paul moves, and Logan's stomach twists and tightens in turn-- hot, an ache in his gut. ]
Nngh...
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[Jean-Paul's hand moves up and down, pausing to reach lower and fondle Logan's balls. He watches the other man's face, smirking softly at the reactions.]
Pull your knees up. [A soft, velvety murmur. His free hand finds that bottle again, flipping up the lid. He takes his hand away for a moment to squirt lubricant onto it, then returns to slowly but firmly working Logan's cock. The new slickness of his hand makes it easier.]
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Logan's noisy at least in terms of quantity, making soft sounds each time Jean-Paul's fist slides up towards the head and pulls his foreskin back down; the muscles of his ass go tight, too, each time he rolls his hips up. The lube is noisy, slippery between his prick and the steady slide of Jean-Paul's palm and fingers, and Logan leaks for it easy, drinking in the attention with fluttering lashes and parted lips. ] Ah, [ his thighs spread apart, the hand on the pillow moving to press the knuckle of his index to his mouth and take the scrape of his teeth ] God, fuck me, come on.
[ Impatient. ]
Don't just [ rrr ] stare.
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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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