Narcissa Malfoy {only cares about} (bloodandfamily) wrote in resurge, @ 2017-02-25 21:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: nathaniel warrington, player: erin, player: ivy |
WHO: Nathaniel "Sebastian" Warrington and Larkin Fitzgerald
WHAT: Definitely heterosexuality
WHEN: Saturday, February 25, 2035; late evening
WHERE: The Cockpit -> Larkin's flat
RATING|STATUS: PG-13 | Completed doc
It was not terribly hard to cause Nathaniel stress. The list of things he found to be stressful was really quite long, though he liked to think he did a decent job of covering that up. He was wrong, of course, but he still told himself he wasn't as obvious as he thought he was. Surely only Zavrina knew his tells well enough to know when he was bothered by something and why. Thankfully, his mother was not among those people, as far as he knew, but on the off chance that he wasn't as good at covering for himself as he thought, he'd kept the news of his impending fatherhood to himself. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it himself. Perhaps that was why he'd reached out to his not-so-estranged brother? He insisted that he simply wanted to see the band play, though it wouldn't be the first time he'd seen them, but it would be the first time Chaz knew about it. Regardless of whether or not he'd sought out the disowned Warrington to discuss the possibility of children, that very possibility was the reason that Nathaniel found himself, disguise in place, at The Cockpit. It was a place he knew he should find contemptible, as he should his own homosexuality, but he couldn't quite force himself to stay away when he felt like he needed a distraction. The place, and the clientele, were vaguely abhorrent, and yet, part of him felt more at home there than anywhere else outside of his actual home. But this was the deal he and Zavrina had worked out, wasn't it? They could do and see whomever they wished as long as they were discreet and careful. Well, Nathaniel was fairly certain that his disguise was both of those things. He wore different clothes than he normally did, colored his hair, removed the glasses, shaved the beard, changed the shape of his nose with a spell. He even sometimes tried to speak with a different accent, though it was, of course, difficult to maintain as the night wore on and the alcohol affected him. "Whiskey, please," he said to the bartender, a man he recognized from his previous visits to the club, but hoped did not recognize him. There were an awful lot of people in there, but for some reason, he was having a more difficult time than usual really connecting with anyone in particular, so he decided to stay close to the bar and hope something...happened. -- It was a busy night, the kind where Larkin found time flying by and the hours passing before he realized it. There was rarely a break for him between crowds at the bar, but when there were he was grateful for the moment to take a breath, tidy his work space so to speak. The returned, used glasses were put to the sink where they were washed by charmed sponges and scrubbies, keeping his hands from being in and out of soapy water all night. He ran a damp rag over the surface of the counter to clear away any remnants of drinks that had been left behind, and had been in the middle of scrubbing at a particularly stubborn sticky spot when he saw Nathaniel move up to the bar. "Whiskey? Sure thing," he replied with an easy smile, tossing the rag down into the bucket on the floor and wiping his hands off to get the lingering dampness off them. His clothes always needed washed immediately when he got home from work anyway, the mixture of sweat and liquor on them and him. It was hot in there, especially on nights when the place was packed, and Larkin could feel how the hair at the nape of his neck was clinging to his skin. "You have a brand preference? And on the rocks or just straight?" -- He should have anticipated the question of how, exactly, he liked his whiskey, but he hadn’t. “Uh...on the rocks, I guess,” Nathaniel floundered a bit, “and no preference. I can’t really tell the difference.” Whiskey was his father’s drink, while Nathaniel preferred white wine, but since wine wasn’t really part of his image, even when he was in disguise, he felt like he needed to drink what his very masculine and very heterosexual father drank. “Is it always this busy on a Saturday night?” he asked, trying to make small talk. He was fairly certain it had been busy the last time he’d been there too, but couldn’t remember what day of the week that was. It was distinctly possible it could have been another Saturday night as well, but it had been several weeks, and if he were being honest with himself, which night of week it was had been the last thing on his mind. -- Larkin gave a hum of acknowledgement as he picked up a rocks glass, scooping some ice into it and reaching for a bottle of whiskey. He glanced up at the room in general, surveying it for a moment before his gaze landed on Nathaniel again. “Yeah, it’s a pretty typical crowd.” Setting the glass in front of Nathaniel on the bar, he poured the whiskey into it before returning the bottle to its place. “Though it's been picking up a bit recently. Weeknights are getting more crowded - not that I’m complaining. It's makes the time go by. First time here?” -- There was a slight hesitation before Nathaniel responded with, “Not exactly,” which was as truthful and yet ambiguous as he could get. Because it wasn’t really his first time there, it was just, as far as he could remember, his first time being there that late at night on a weekend. Usually he arrived a bit earlier in the day and, partially in an attempt to spend as little time out there in the open as possible, left early with someone. The one time he hadn’t been able to find someone quickly, he’d left and gone to a muggle bar out of pure paranoia. But with muggle life being so much different from the wizarding world, he really disliked seeking out muggle establishments. “My previous visits weren’t particularly long or memorable,” he said, clarifying without exactly clarifying. -- Considering how busy the place tended to get, Larkin knew even if people had been in before it was unlikely he would remember seeing them unless they were legitimately a regular or did something to make themselves memorable. Not remembering the man in front of him wasn't anything that meant offense, and he was glad it didn't seem taken as such. And with Nathaniel’s clarification, he took it for what he assumed it was meant to be. “Gotcha.” He leaned against the bar, forearms resting on top of it. “So, looking to find someone, then?” -- No, there was no offense taken at not being remembered; that was really the whole point of his appearance anyway--to not be remembered. There were definitely people out there who felt free to be themselves in front of society and their families, and a large part of Nathaniel wished he could feel that way. He’d grown used to using Zavrina as a cover, but he wasn’t in love with her and never would be. He did love her, but he loved her as he loved his sisters, or a very close friend, and he would never want to be physically intimate with her. He wished he could because things would be far simpler, but that wasn’t his reality. That left him with the occasional need to seek out company he did want to be physically intimate with. “Aren’t we all,” he said with a wry smile, the one he knew showed off his dimples. People found dimples attractive, right? Unfortunately for Nathaniel, he was still honing his skills in the finding and propositioning that company. He had been the one to be approached most of the time in the past, but he knew he needed to learn to strike out on his own, because not all men he would enjoy spending time with would be comfortable making the first move, despite what their society said. “It’s not nearly as easy as it should be.” -- Larkin chuckled, a smile that could almost be mistaken for bashful spreading across his features. “Fair enough, I suppose we are.” His eyes flickered down to Nathaniel’s dimples, and he smile on his lips - though mostly just his lips, before he let his gaze meet the other man’s again. He was cute - handsome, and not exactly the type that Larkin saw over and over again in front of him every night, though he had no problems with any of them either. Different was good, though. It was nice. “Well now I don't know about that,” he replied, tilting his head and bringing a hand up to take his hair back from his face, a few rogue curls falling back to his forehead afterward. “I think that all depends on what you're looking for when you set out to find them. One night, maybe a few, a life’s worth of them… gets harder the longer the time is.” -- Getting into a real conversation with the bartender at an establishment frequented by homosexuals was probably not the best idea if one wanted to stay anonymous and unremarkable, and yet Nathaniel did not pick up his drink and look elsewhere for company. He knew even as he sat rooted in his seat that this was not a good idea. How did he know? Well, the little flutter he felt as he watched the young man, whose name he didn’t know, push back his hair only to have the curls fall right back down. “I suppose that’s true, especially in a place like this,” Nathaniel mused. “That probably explains why I’ve never had a difficult time here.” Not that he was boasting. Even if hookups were highly frowned upon in the world he lived in, the same could not be said about the world in which he was currently visiting. And as far as he could tell, what he’d said was very true; none of the times he’d ever in his life gone home involved one or both parties asking to repeat the experience. But perhaps he was just awful at the whole thing and it was him, in particular, that no one had wanted to see again. -- “Yes, especially in a place like this,” Larkin confirmed, the emphasis on the last few words bringing a hint of a wry smile to his lips. “Not saying anything about our patrons, because goodness knows they keep me employed, but I think it's safe to say most people come here looking for a good time.” That had been his experience, after all, and he'd never found himself going home alone if he didn't want to. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he worked there. “Don't worry, I’m sure you'll make out alright tonight,” he added, sending a wink Nathaniel’s way as he pushed off the bar to straighten up as someone else approached to order a drink. “If nothing else, I can make sure of that.” -- It was a good thing that the bartender had another order to take, and that he’d raised his glass to take a sip, because it meant that Nathaniel was able to hide his rather embarrassed reaction to being...well, he was being flirted with, right? Even if it was insincere and practiced, a line used on many a drinker to illicit more drinks and tips, that was still a flirtation, wasn’t it? As the unnamed bartender continued to see to other people, Nathaniel took the time to collect himself and figure out he was going to do. It was unlikely that this new interest would become anything--after all, why would he be the one singled out when it was probably a poor idea for a bartender to sleep with his patrons anyway--but...he was attractive and they’d already made a connection. Maybe. Maybe he just felt sorry for him and was offering to set him up with someone. “What time are you off?” he asked, then realized how brazen and assuming that was. “Just to clarify, you were flirting earlier, right?” Suddenly Nathaniel was very unsure of himself. -- It was a small rush of people to the bar, but enough for Larkin to have to make several drinks, close out a couple tabs, and toss old glasses down into the sink to be washed before he made his way back over to the only person actually sitting at the bar. Nathaniel’s question, followed quickly by the second one, made him smile, his chin tucking down slightly before he looked across the bar to the man sitting there. “I was flirting, yes,” he clarified easily, resting his hands on the counter and leaning into them. “And I’m off in about fifteen minutes, actually. Early night for me.” He tilted his head, the corners of his mouth quirking with a hint of a smirk. “Why, am I what you were looking for?” -- Being so forward, being the pursuer instead of the pursued, was very uncomfortable, and though he was sure he was doing it all wrong, and his cheeks were likely a little rosier than was socially appropriate for a man, Nathaniel held his ground. Because it would get easier, he told himself, he simply had to get used to it first. After all, almost every other man on the planet was expected to make the first move, so he should get used to doing it too. “Possibly,” he replied, not trying to play coy so much as save face in case it went poorly, “unless I am not what you’re looking for, in which case I change my answer to no. Could I possibly have another drink?” He’d finished the whiskey before Larkin came back to him, and now he was pretty sure he’d need two more before he’d be comfortable putting his foot in his mouth. -- “Don't go changing that answer so fast,” Larkin replied, clearing Nathaniel’s glass off the bar and replacing it with another just as quickly, ice inside and whiskey being poured over in mere moments later. His gaze flickered over to Nathaniel as he tilted the bottle back to put it away, pausing. “Sorry, if you wanted something else I’ll gladly make that instead, I just assumed you wanted another of the same.” -- Maybe he wasn’t so bad at finding dates after all! Or maybe this was just another one of those times when Nathaniel was the one being picked up. Or maybe it was a combination of the two. Either way, he shook his head in response to wanting something else to drink; sure, something else might have tasted better, but the whiskey seemed to be doing the trick just fine. “You assumed correctly,” he told the other man, already working on the whiskey. Why? Because although it might seem as though the most stressful part of the night might be coming to a close, it was far more stressful for Nathaniel to actually interact with a potential or future partner outside the club environment when it was just the two of them. He always feared being rejected once there were no distractions. “In case I n--decide to have another,” Nathaniel added as he slid some coins across the bar toward Larkin, changing his response before he made it sound like he needed to be drunk in order to do...well, he was being quite presumptuous tonight, wasn’t he? -- “Good,” Larkin said with a smile, though if Nathaniel had wanted something else, it wouldn't have been a problem. Hell, he probably would have just had the whiskey himself to keep it from going to waste. Drinking while working wasn't exactly forbidden so long as he kept his wits about him, and that close to the end of his shift he would have been doubly fine. His gaze flickered down to the coins on the counter, easily sliding them off the edge into his palm and moving back to the register so he could get Nathaniel cashed out for what he'd already ordered, at least. It only took him a moment before he was back, offering Nathaniel a grin and quirking an eyebrow. “So, do you have a name?” -- Nathaniel was still a bit caught up in his uncertainty about exactly what they were each planning in their minds about the evening--as he replayed what they said, he tried to see if there was anything that he could have misinterpreted. Even in the middle of that, of making sure he wasn’t assuming something was going to happen that might not (it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but he didn’t want to be wrong), he let out a practiced, “Sebastian, and you?” It was practiced because he didn’t want to chance giving out his real name, and didn’t want his partners to know they’d been lied to. And the way he looked at it, he wasn’t lying that much; Sebastian was his middle name, after all. It was just that no one knew him by that name so he’d be more difficult to track down or be figured out. -- “Sebastian,” Larkin repeated, giving a nod as he let the name settle on his tongue. He wasn't always the best with names, but given it wasn't a situation where he was expected to remember a bunch of new different people at once, he was confident he wouldn't forget. “I’m Larkin.” His attention was pulled away briefly by a coworker sliding behind the bar, coming to take over once he was gone. They were a few minutes early, and he'd been slow enough every so often that it was set up well for them. Larkin took a couple minutes to make sure they were up to speed before settling into his spot leaning against the bar by where Nathaniel was. “Looks like I’m done here.” -- Larkin. Now that was odd, but memorable, and somehow suited him. Nathaniel gave the other man’s name the same consideration he gave Nathaniel’s, and decided he liked it. Larkin. He watched Larkin as he went about his closing routine, and only attempted to hide his gaze with his drink when it appeared that he would get caught staring. By the time the darker-haired man had returned, Nathaniel’s glass was once again drained of the liquid, left with only two small, melting ice cubes, getting smaller with each passing moment. He wondered for a brief moment if they would be leaving immediately, or if they should talk first. Or something. The words, “Do you want to dance?” were out of his mouth before the idea was even in his mind, and still it took a moment longer for Nathaniel to realize that he’d just suggested something he didn’t quite know how to do. -- An easy smile spread across Larkin’s features, his eyes sparkling as he gave a nod, looking out to the dance floor before his eyes met Nathaniel’s again. “Yeah, sure.” He ditched the towel that had been tucked in his pocket, dangling from it for ease of use, and made his way around from behind the bar to actually be in the same area where Nathaniel was. It was the first he'd seen more than just the top part of the other man, at least when he'd been paying attention since he was sure he'd seen him walk up, and he let his gaze flicker over him briefly before he stepping in closer to where he was sitting. “Shall we?” -- “We shall.” It was now or never, right? Nathaniel left the stool and empty glass behind, his body moving with a confidence he didn’t even know he could possess after two drinks, the alcohol dulling his thought process only enough to keep him from doing too much overthinking. As they approached the crowd, he looked around to see what the other male couples were doing; he felt the same uncertainty he always felt when dancing, even when he was in public with Zavrina, but at least at those times he had a better idea of what was expected of him. What all of this inner turmoil meant for Larkin was that, while ‘Sebastian’ seemed confident enough as he led him to the dancefloor, once they actually got there, he hesitated and lost basically all confidence whatsoever. -- Luckily for Nathaniel, Larkin was right at home on the dance floor. The music was fast and loud, bass thumping, and once they found a spot he reached over and curled his fingers into the fabric of Nathaniel’s shirt, pulling him in closer. His body easily moved to the music, an arm slung low around Nathaniel’s hips to keep him there but loose enough that he could move away if he wanted. It was easy to feel like they were in their own little world despite the crowd of people around. -- Yes, luckily indeed, because if Larkin had waited for Nathaniel to continue with that first move, they both would have waited awkwardly at the edge of the crowd for forever. So Nathaniel was indeed grateful that the bartender had taken over. He was much better at following directions and mimicking others than he was at taking initiative anyway. It took him a moment to get the hang of the beat, but once he got it, he was fairly certain he was doing alright even if he felt like an idiot. It was a bit longer until he stopped thinking so much and was able to relax and just try to have fun. It rarely occurred to Nathaniel that this was supposed to be fun, that it might be more than simple foreplay. It was only after he relaxed a bit, after a slower song began to play, that he took some initiative and leaned forward to kiss Larkin. -- Larkin could feel as Nathaniel started to loosen up a bit, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the whiskey kicking in or him simply relaxing in general, but either way he would take it. He danced in close with the other man, their bodies moving together with the music. It was hot out there with everyone else, even more so than it had been behind the bar, and he could feel the way his shirt was clinging to his back, the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck sticking to it a bit. And when Nathaniel kissed him, he welcomed it. His hand came up to cup the other man’s jaw and he returned his kiss gladly, letting Nathaniel set the pace of it but also not hesitating to nudge him for more - if he wanted to. -- Nathaniel spent so much time suppressing and ignoring any and all urges he had that he was almost afraid to give an inch because the whole dam might blow. He brought his own hands up, resting his palms against the skin on Larkin’s neck, holding him (loosely) in place. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, yet felt momentarily light-headed, his thoughts all becoming feelings, wants, needs. He knew immediately that being there wasn’t simply an emotional need, it was a physical one that he’d denied for too long. Maybe he could make trips to the Cockpit a more regular habit. One hand snaked back down to Larkin’s hips, his fingers finding a hold in his back pocket as the space between their bodies seemed to evaporate in the heat. -- Larkin shifted closer as Nathaniel’s hand found its way into his pocket, pressing in against him and letting his arm around his hips tighten its hold. The music was more faded in the background, their bodies still moving to it but that was all secondary to the way Nathaniel’s lips were moving against his. He let his teeth graze over his lower one lightly, nipping at it gently before simply kissing him again. Perhaps it was presumptive, but also they had talked so much earlier about the leaving portion of it, that they were both on board for that. And while he wasn't saying they needed to go anytime soon, because he was more than happy with how things were going, Larkin pulled back just enough to be able to kiss along Nathaniel’s jaw back to his ear so he could speak against it, his voice husky. “Just so we’re clear, I don't fool around here since I work here, but if you feel like leaving at any point…” -- “I could leave at any point,” he quickly responded; oh yes, Nathaniel was on board with leaving, and it didn’t exactly occur to him that such a prompt response might seem a bit desperate. Though, perhaps desperate was an appropriate word for the situation. He was so good at telling himself that none of this was really necessary for his happiness, that he could have a passionless existence with Zavrina and yet be happy because he still had a very meaningful relationship with her despite their sexualities. Nathaniel was very good at lying to himself until he was actually in a passionate situation such as this. -- Nathaniel’s response made Larkin smile, his thumb brushing lightly against his cheek where it was resting as he pulled back to be able to meet his mouth with his own again. Larkin liked dancing, and kissing, and most things that followed, especially when the other person was as eager seeming as Nathaniel was. That made him feel good, like he was wanted - even if it was just for those things. He let that kiss linger, deep and slow, before resting his forehead against Nathaniel’s and letting his breath play across his lips. “Your place or mine?” -- If asked, Nathaniel was sure that there were other things about him that would draw people to Larkin. He didn't yet know what those things were, but he was sure they existed. If he gave himself enough time with the other man, he was sure he would discover them. But then, that was his fear--that he would meet a great guy he wanted to spend more than just a night with, who he wanted to spend real time with, and then he'd get caught because he would inevitably get confident and complacent. In the moment, Nathaniel was thinking about none of those things. All he was really thinking about was how badly he wanted to be back at Larkin’s discovering all the physical reasons he wanted him. Because there was no way they could go back to his place, and he didn't want to have to come up with a reason why. “Yours?” It came out a question, a request, because if they needed a room he would pay for one, but also because he kept forgetting how great kissing other men was when all he had were brief pecks with his wife. -- Larkin kissed him again, because he wanted to and he hadn't wanted to stop before but he'd figured better to ask so they could get out of there before matters became too pressing. He gave a quiet hum of agreement when he pulled back again, eyes flickering open to look up at Nathaniel through impossibly thick eyelashes. “Mine works.” His arm around Nathaniel’s hips loosened its hold as he tilted his head toward the door. “Come on, I can apparate us from outside.” He waited for Nathaniel’s hold on him to give a bit before he stepped back, his arm sliding from around him to take his hand instead, and Larkin led Nathaniel over through the exit of the club, out away from the music and crowd noise and to the street where he slipped his arms around the other man again and they disappeared with a pop. His flat wasn't anything to brag about - a small one with a lofted room where his bedroom was, big enough for him to live in and his sister too when she wasn't at school. Larkin landed them outside the door and let them in, tugging Nathaniel in by his hand to kiss him again, a bit more behind it than the kisses at the club had been since they could actually lead somewhere. -- There was basically nothing Nathaniel wanted more in the moment than to keep kissing Larkin--except be able to do more than just kissing without interruption. Unfortunately, interruption was what they needed in order to actually get to the ‘more without interruption.’ That said, he went willingly by the hand, though he couldn’t help but glance around as they did to make sure no one was watching. And make sure he didn’t recognize anyone. And make sure no one recognized him. It was only after they were inside the other man’s flat that Nathaniel was able to really relax again. Of course, being in a stranger’s home was always going to put him in a vulnerable position, but he wasn’t nearly as concerned about that as he probably should have been. What if Larkin turned out to be a dangerous man? Not that Nathaniel was in a position to care, at the moment. He pulled Larkin by his hips until his own back was flush against the closed front door, his kisses more fervent as he used the solid door behind him to press against him. -- Moving easily to be pressed in against Nathaniel, Larkin’s hands ran up over his chest and shoulders to cup his neck briefly before moving down to his chest again, fingers catching in the fabric of his shirt. He kissed him hard, deeply, want radiating through him as he felt the other man’s body pressed against his own, pinned between him and the door. It was good they hadn't wasted more time at the club, because this was way better. There was a brief pause in the onslaught of kisses just long enough for Larkin to tug his own shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere off to the side before cupping Nathaniel’s jaw in his hands and pulling him in to kiss again. He let his hips rock in against him, a quiet groan resonating in his throat as his hands slid down Nathaniel’s sides, toying with the hem of his shirt and fingers brushing against the skin beneath it. -- Nathaniel’s shirt was the next thing to go, his body aching for the flesh-on-flesh contact. It was times like this when he questioned his decision to avoid a real romantic relationship (or at least a regular sex life), because there was really nothing quite like the sensation, the rush, he felt when he was close to other men he found attractive. He didn’t just like being with men, he needed it. It was that need that drove his mouth from Larkin’s lips to his neck and his throat, his fingers just as hungry, exploring the exposed skin of his upper body. “Bedroom?” he asked, lips barely pausing in their work. Part of him wanted to get more intimately acquainted with Larkin’s body, but he was also very impatient to get to the best part, and the place that would be most comfortable for both of those things was a bed. Not that he’d complain about a couch. -- Larkin’s hands skimmed over Nathaniel’s skin that was exposed, taking it in until his fingertips found the waistband of his pants. His head tilted back as Nathaniel’s mouth moved down away from his, his eyes closing as he moaned, fingers curling into where they were resting on his waistband, knuckles brushing against the skin beneath. “Upstairs,” he mumbled, giving a tug as he leaned back away from the door, indicating the direction they needed to go. It was a small distance to the stairs and his room was right at the top. He would have just apparated them but his mind was too preoccupied with the way Nathaniel’s mouth was making him feel. -- In reality, it may not have been, but all Nathaniel could think was that upstairs was so far away. It made him want to forget it and say the couch was fine, because he needed Larkin’s hand to be doing more than just sitting at the top of his pants, but he was programed to go with the privacy afforded by a bedroom, and that default could not be ignored without permission, no matter how inconvenient it was. “Lead the way,” he replied, picking his head up and pushing away from the door. He grabbed Larkin’s hand and threaded their fingers together. -- Larkin did as requested, easily leading Nathaniel the short distance to the stairs and then up them, his bedroom right at the top. He pulled Nathaniel over toward his bed, sinking down to sit on the edge of it and dropping kisses along Nathaniel’s torso, his mouth trailing lower as his free hand came up to undo the fastenings of Nathaniel’s pants. “What do you want?” he asked, looking up and letting his breath play across Nathaniel’s skin as he waited for an answer. -- What did he want? That was a loaded question if Nathaniel had ever heard one. He wanted a lot of things he didn’t often let himself want, and he certainly never vocalized them. It was too risky to tell anyone. But in the moment, his wants were pretty simple, and they were the things that most anyone in a sexual situation wanted. He just never quite know how to vocalize it. Surely he would just sound silly, right? And not sexy at all. “You,” he tried, though he was pretty sure it wasn’t as confident and convincing as it should have been. Because he was sure in Larkin and what they were doing. He was not sure he was doing this whole thing right. That left him with two options. He could either hesitate or call the whole thing off, or he could forge ahead and perhaps distract his partner from his lack of confidence. Nathaniel chose the latter. Shoving his own pants to the ground and off his feet, he knelt in front of Larkin to assist him in doing the same. Later, it would occur to him that perhaps Larkin had posed himself to offer his oral services, and that probably would have been worthwhile, but in the moment, Nathaniel had simply wanted something a bit more intimate they could both share in. And share they did. It was precisely what he’d needed after a stressful day of talking about having sex with his wife. He probably would have been somewhat alright with it if he’d had any confidence he could give her a fraction of the satisfaction he and Larkin got from it. In the end, once he began to feel more himself, he turned slightly toward Larkin so he could see his face, and asked, “Do you want me to leave or stay?” He felt the need to ask because he’d experienced both types of one-night stands, and just wanted to know if he needed to let Zavrina know he wouldn’t be back until morning. -- Larkin was easy in that he liked most things associated with sex, so he generally went along with whatever his partner for the night wanted or preferred. So whatever Nathaniel wanted, that was what they did. He was more than happy to go along with it. And do whatever he could to make sure Nathaniel enjoyed himself as much as possible. When they were done, he laid on his back and raked his hair back from his face, a sheen of sweat on his bare skin and his chest rising and falling with ragged breath. He tilted his head to look over at Nathaniel’s question, propping himself up on his elbows. “You don't have to leave,” he said, shaking his head. “You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but I won't mind if you do. I’d like that, but won't be offended if you go.” -- Honestly, that was pretty much the best response he could have gotten, and it earned Larkin a genuine smile. “Then I’ll stay.” Because sex was always a great part, and the immediate reason he set out to find someone, but it wasn’t just sex that he was missing from his marriage. He and Zavrina had an emotional intimacy, but not a physical one, and what Nathaniel craved perhaps even more than sex was that physical intimacy that usually came after. The kissing, lying in bed, just touching. That was what he sought with Larkin now as he reached for him, scooting his body closer as his fingers wrapped themselves in the dark curls on his head so he could pull him down for another kiss. -- Larkin shifted as Nathaniel pulled him down, twisting to be closer, and meeting his mouth gladly. His body pressed in close, legs twining with Nathaniel’s as he settled in, kissing him in that slow, lazy way that came so often after sex. He was relaxed, sated, and more than happy to know the other man would be staying. It was always nicer to have someone to sleep with than to be alone, at least as far as he was concerned. |