Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
Re: Magical Narnia: Ben/Ronan
"Sir." Ronan's mouth curled up into a seductive smile as he arched into Ben's body, with the sharp edges of his canine teeth dragging over the arch of Ben's shoulder because he needed to have that spot in his mouth. Deliberately tasting Ben's skin as his head was filled up with the picture of those big, broad hands holding him tight at the waist. And yes, there was the flicker of Ben's fantasy waiter with the neat little bowtie in his head, and the act of being lifted up onto a table swept clean of silverware like they were horny characters in a sitcom. That made him laugh breathlessly, head tipping back as he pressed his hips down and against Ben's lap, greedy for the friction between them. Then it had been long enough since tasting Ben (ten whole seconds!) and so he leaned back in again, curving his neck and shoulders downwards, biting with teeth and soothing with the flat wash of his tongue against the column of Ben's throat.
"All mine," he breathed out with his red-flushed lips still pressing wet against Ben's collarbone, grazing over the lingering bruises and loving them. "Just like I'm yours, baby." All marked up with pointed teeth and long, slender fingers that wrapped around the biceps that could have thrown him around like a sack of flour. Like he just belonged to his man, because he wanted as much. Because they belonged to each other just like he'd said, and right now Ben looked like he'd be totally okay with being a used thing: stripped naked to the waist, with mouth marks standing out angry-red on his skin. Ronan huffed out his words then, pressing into every little exploratory bite and each possessive grasp of thick, strong fingers. "I fucking love you. God - you're so hot, y'know that?"
It was with a very deliberate effort that Ronan climbed out of Ben's lap and to his feet, standing up straight so that he straddled the spread of Ben's ankles. His borrowed belt and the zippered fly of his suit pants were easy enough to open, and it only took a little wiggle of narrow hips to shimmy them down and over his thighs. He couldn't help the smug twitch of his mouth as he gazed down at the man sprawled on the hill before him, as one hand slid down and over the flat of his own stomach, palming over his dick. Rubbing his hand up and down where he'd started to harden beneath his briefs, teasing himself and taking a few stutter-steps closer. "What else do you want?"
Ronan's words came out of his mouth all rough, calloused with a wet-throated echo of his arousal, as his chin dipped towards his sternum. He was cupping a hand against the hard line of his dick where it was pressed against the front of his turquoise-striped briefs that were Ben's favourite.
"Yeah," he exhaled, voice thick, with eyes that fluttered towards the back of his head as he reached out to cup one hand against the back of his boyfriend's strong neck. Rubbing himself a little more insistently with his free hand, thumbing over the head of his cock where a wet spot had formed on the fabric of his underwear. "Wanna hear just what you wanna do with me, Ben."