frankenzack (frankenzack) wrote in a7x_fanfic, @ 2009-10-10 08:07:00 |
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Current mood: | Yayy!! |
Current music: | Critical Acclaim by Avenged Sevenfold |
In the Quiet
Title : In The Quiet
Author : Frankenzack
Rating : NC-17
Pairing : Matt//Brian
Summary :But sometimes, every once in awhile, it's best in the quiet
Disclaimer : Don't own this..
They like it quiet, sometimes.
In bed, mostly sitting, propped up by the pillows against the headboard. Clothes off, fan on low, sweat-slick skin smooth to the touch. Matt's got Brian cradled back against his chest, holding him. Brian doesn't need it, doesn't need Matt's strength or comfort, but he likes it. He likes it a lot, like this. The back of Brian's head rests on Matt's shoulder, and he's got one arm up behind him, his fingers threaded through Matt's hair, stroking through it gently as Matt's mouth works softly at his neck. Brian's straddling Matt's hips, and Matt's inside him, hot and hard and deep inside him, but not moving, and Brian's not riding him. He's just holding him there, in the tight hot clench of his body, savoring that feeling for now. Matt's hands are on him, touching him. One paws lightly at his thigh, up and down in slow strokes. The other is wrapped around Brian's hand wrapped around Brian's cock, guiding the slow pump of his fist. It's slow, mindless pleasure, deep and easy, lazy, hot.
Brian's eyes are closed when he tugs on Matt's hair. Matt lifts his head, nudges at Brian's cheek sweetly with his nose, and then snares Brian's lips in a slow kiss. Brian presses his tongue into Matt's mouth, tastes butterscotch candy and the echo of his own cigarette taste on Matt's tongue. It's addictive, heady, but the kiss stays lazy. There's no hurry. This taste is Brian's, his alone, and he can have it whenever he wants it, and take his time with it when he does.
Matt's cock throbs inside him, pulses so he can feel it. Brian sighs deeply in pleasure, breaks the kiss and rests his head back against Matt's shoulder again, rolling his hips real slow. Matt's hand lets Brian's go, and Brian keeps stroking his cock on his own, arching a little and murmuring in wordless pleasure as big, warm hands palm up and down his sides.
"Matt," he says, just because, just to taste the name and let it seep into the heat, the air around them. Matt hums a quiet agreement, and rubs his thumbs lightly in soothing circles just inside Brian's hipbones. It's nice, strangely erotic, and Brian arches his back a little as the pleasure thrills up his spine. He cradles the back of Matt's head in his palm, and tilts his head to the side when Matt's lips find his throat again. They're not working to bruise, to mark, but Brian won't stop them if they start to. It's not usually something he allows, Matt's mark on him like he's something to own, but sometimes it's nice to be reminded that it's true, whether he likes it or not. Matt smiles against his skin, and Brian moans softly, because nothing feels as good as Matt's smile.
He rolls his hips again, rocks gently, once, twice, up into his hand and down onto Matt's cock. The pads of Matt's thumbs press down and Brian lets go of his dick because he doesn't want this to end yet. He spreads his fingers wide, and slides his hands down to rest on his inner thighs. Matt murmurs his name, his voice thick and low, and the 'i' is drawn out just a little – "Bri-an."
The corners of Brian's mouth quirk up, and he turns to press his forehead to Matt's cheek, and murmurs a quiet request without using any words. Matt knows what he means, though. They've never really needed words, or anything but each other. Matt's hands move again, one of them, anyway. It slides down to Brian's hand on his thigh, squeezes gently, and then smooths back up his arm to his shoulder, and over the plane of his chest, down his torso to rest on his abs, just below his navel, smearing in pre-come and sweat. Brian lifts his right hand from his right thigh, and covers Matt's where it rests on his stomach. Their fingers lace together sloppily, the angle wrong, the angle just right. Brian's knees press tighter against the sides of Matt's thighs, and Matt's hips rock up to fuck Brian deeper. Brian helps, a little.
That's how it goes, for a while, so slow, so easy. They fuck lazy, sleepy, and it's so familiar it's just like breathing. It's all lost in a haze of sensation, so Brian can't tell where he stops and where Matt starts, and he doesn't even try because he doesn't need to, doesn't want to. He likes it this way, where Brian's not Brian without Matt and Matt isn't Matt without Brian. He likes the romance, the truth of it, the metaphor.
He likes the sex, too.
"Smilin'," Matt accuses, and Brain realizes that he is. He just grins a little wider, and guides Matt's hand down over his cock, drawing in a sharp breath at the touch.
"Yeah," he says, voice thick and deep, not as deep as Matt's, but close. Matt's smile touches his cheek, his temple, the sensitive spot just behind Brian's ear, and Brian shudders with the pleasure. "You close?" he asks.
"Mm-mm," Matt sighs, jerking Brian's cock slow. "Not yet. You?"
Brian laughs a little, just because, breathy and soft, and presses a sweet kiss to Matt's throat. "Gettin' there."
"Yeah," Matt agrees.
Brian shifts, takes Matt's other hand and wraps that arm around himself. He presses his shoulders back into Matt's chest, and lifts his hips, taking a slow breath as Matt's cock slide half-way out of him. It's too much of a loss, and Brian's brow furrows, his breath hitching, and he lets his hips fall again. The head of Matt's cock hits his very favorite spot, and he laughs a little again, red dusting his high cheek bones as the laugh turns into a moan when Matt's mouth closes over his own.
Time passes. They kiss lazily, on and on, stopping for breath or a few quiet words, hushed and sweet. They move together like they were made to, fit together just right, and it's somewhere between Matt's murmured, "Fuck, baby," and his own answering "Like that, yeah," that Brian comes over both their hands, hot and hard, slow and intense. He can feel his body shudder, clench around Matt's cock, and even more intensely he can feel Matt come inside him, can taste his pleasure along with the butterscotch candies and echo of cigarettes on Matt's tongue.
It's not loud. Neither of them are loud, and even though their hearts are racing their pace is just like it was before, slow, a little awkward, but only in the best way. Brian lets his orgasm take him, lets himself feel it through his whole body and Matt's, let's the world fall away and shatter, and only opens his eyes once it's put back together again. Matt's still inside him, cradling him back against his chest, his hand rubbing slow circles through the come and sweat on his stomach. Brian smiles lazily, and sits up on his knees, groaning weakly as Matt slips out of him. He tilts his head, pops his neck on both sides, and then shifts off of Matt and stretches out on his side. He waits for Matt to lie down too, facing him, and then reaches for the covers. Brian kisses the corner of Matt's mouth, and then rolls onto his back, tugging Matt with him. Matt presses up against Brian's side, and their legs tangle together. He kisses Brian's temple, hums a quiet breath, and closes his eyes.
Brian watches the fan spin above them, and counts the press of Matt's fingertips against his side. He draws looping lines across the arm slung over his hips, and when he can't keep his eyes open anymore, he doesn't fight it, just lets them close.
They've got voice, and they've got sound. They've got hard and fast and rough and bruising, fucking and rutting and scratching and biting. They've got all that, and they love all that, live for it.
But sometimes, every once in awhile, it's best in the quiet.