Who: Dylan and Luis When: Friday, Oct 27, post-gala Where: Dylan's House Status: Complete Warning: NSFW
As far as fundraisers and gala dinners went, Luis reasoned it could have been worse—people dipped into alcohol quickly, and he couldn’t blame them, but that, he reasoned, was as good a cue as any to leave. Considering Dylan had been a comforting presence for most of the night, Luis had only been more impatient about leaving it. He felt a little impolite about it, but also… His coat tied tightly around himself, Luis took a deep breath as soon as he stepped outside the country club. Five minutes from now, he would be freezing in his costume, coat or no, but for now, he was pretty relieved to be out of the mingling crowd and out in the fresh air.
“This wasn’t too bad, was it? No one’s going to notice we’ve left.” Said as much to reassure himself as anything, once he looked over his shoulder to make sure Dylan was following, before he started walking. They hadn’t exactly had opportunity between meals to talk about where they were heading afterwards, and, Luis realized, he wasn’t sure whether Dylan had driven here, and stopped again. “Are you on foot or by car?”
The dinner went about as well as could be expected, though Dylan had the urge throughout for it to be over and done with already. He had made himself be patient, waiting for an appropriate time to slip away once he had marked Luis’ absence. Most of the other gala guests were likely to remain there until much later, Dylan assumed. It was probably earlier than he should have been leaving, but it was difficult to care and even if Luis hadn’t been there tonight, Dylan would have still found some less inviting excuse to leave early. He caught up with Luis outside, Dylan’s own coat on but left open since his costume was decently warm on its own, even with the crisp bite of the night air.
“The open bar’s doing an admirably good job at being more interesting to people than the two of us,” he said, looking over at Luis with a smile. In truth, Luis being there and the promise of getting to leave with him had made the night infinitely more tolerable to Dylan. “So I doubt anyone will take notice of our departure.” Even if someone did, Dylan wasn’t sure what would even come of it. “I drove,” he said, stopping when Luis stopped and, after surveilling the area to make sure no one else was around, stepping closer so that he could slide his arm around Luis’ shoulders and lean in to murmur, “Did you want to go back to your place or mine?”
“Maybe it’s the bartending, but I really don’t see the appeal in getting drunk until I embarrass myself.” Luis stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, his breath coming out in visible puffs. As much as he generally preferred walking places, he had to admit he didn’t mind the prospect of a car seat and not freezing to death anytime soon. “But then again—” Luis leaned into the warm weight of Dylan at his side easily, routinely, and amusement laced his voice, “I have the advantage that I don’t have to get you drunk to take you home.”
He thought it over for a minute, what he had to do tomorrow, whether Booker would miss him too much if he didn’t return until morning, if there was still food in his fridge, then nodded slowly. “Your place. I don’t think I have anything that will make an acceptable breakfast in my fridge,” he decided, “And I don’t intend to sneak out in the middle of the night.” Not that he had, in a long long time, or had ever felt the urge to, curled up with Dylan into the morning hours.
Dylan chuckled, his heart doing something complicated and pleasant at the familiar press of Luis’ body against his side, his arm settling more securely around him. “No, you’ve never needed any assistance in getting me to go home with you,” Dylan said warmly. That much was very true, since he had been somewhat of a lost cause from the first moment he had met Luis. But who could blame him, really? Luis, in Dylan’s altogether biased opinion, was completely irresistible.
He led Luis toward where he had parked his truck as they settled where they were heading. “Marlowe and Pippin will be glad to see you again,” he said, “and I have enough to throw together a passable breakfast.” Having groceries at hand for making meals was largely Luis’ influence, however subconsciously, even if the time they spent in each other’s homes could sometimes be unpredictable, depending on whatever else was going on. “I had rather hoped to keep you in bed with me until morning.” Luis had always been, and would always be, welcome to stay as long as he liked. Dylan fished his keys out of his pocket once they neared his truck, unlocking it and opening the passenger door for Luis. Dylan’s arm unwound from Luis’ shoulders, hand sliding down Luis’ back, just for the sake of touching him before Dylan moved to get in on the driver’s side.
Luis couldn’t help but flash Dylan a warm grin. “Lucky me.” And he meant it, no matter what kind of throwaway statement it could be. It still baffled him, if he let himself dwell on it, how quickly and easily he had fallen into whatever it was that Dylan and he were doing, this instantaneous fondness and comfort, but it spoke for itself that it had endured for… several years, now, however unexpected. He couldn’t explain it, but he had come to embrace it no less.
Luis shot him an amused look over the roof of the truck, then got into the passenger seat once Dylan unlocked and opened it. “It’s only because I bribe them when you’re not looking.” Which, well. He did, occasionally—as much as he tried to teach Booker good manners, he had very little qualms about sharing his food with dogs that he wasn’t responsible for, Marlowe and Pippin included. “It’s a good bed. Very hard to get out of.” There was a very obvious smirk on his face, and he side-eyed Dylan none too subtly while he flipped up the collar of his coat, only to follow it up with breathing warm air into his hands. His costume had not been a wise choice for the end of October in Maine, and he was coming to accept that.
“Oh, is that your secret? I’ll have to start trying it on Booker,” Dylan teased, grinning at Luis. It was the sort of thing Dylan already knew Luis did and didn’t really care to stop him. The list of ways in which Dylan would not indulge Luis was short and had always been, which in some moments had been worrying, given what it meant regarding Luis’ importance to Dylan, but he hadn’t ever done anything about it in the intervening years they had known each other. He turned the key in the ignition and let the truck idle a moment, turning the heat on so it could warm up and adjusting the radio to a lower volume.
His gaze shifted to Luis thereafter, the look and smirk stirring a pleasant, familiar heat in the pit of Dylan’s stomach. He didn’t try to stifle the answering smirk that curled his lips. “My bed somehow always becomes more inviting and hard to get out of whenever you’re in it. It’s an interesting phenomenon,” Dylan commented, eyeing Luis with a warmly considering look in return. Making out in his truck would be less comfortable and only delay them getting somewhere better. Plus they were still in the country club parking lot. He looked away from Luis before he recalculated, thoughts probably easily readable on his face, and shifted his truck into gear. “Do you have any other plans for the weekend?” he asked as he began to navigate out of the parking lot and onto the empty road.
“Booker is getting a picky eater in old age, it’s a good thing he’s already partial to you.” Luis rested his elbow on the door handle and his face in his hand, and looked over at Dylan with a fond grin, “I cannot imagine why.” As if his own expression left any doubt at all that he felt the very same way, the second Dylan took to think, Luis just watched him with warm amusement; he had been very good about keeping his hands off Dylan once they had stepped outside, and, well, the cold was all the more encouraging to get home and not risk anything here. (Luis concluded skirts would not make it into his wardrobe anytime soon.)
“I’m sure I do, but don’t ask me what they were.” Luis was certain there were chores and other things waiting for him, but pleasantly stuffed from dinner and the two glasses of wine he had allowed himself, he found it hard to think further ahead than the next few hours—those thoughts were very happily occupying his mind instead. “My mind has been a little… preoccupied with other things.” Luis hadn’t taken his eyes off Dylan since he had started speaking, and the slow once over he gave him now probably didn’t leave many questions with what at all.
"I think he's become used to me being around every so often after all these years,” Dylan said with amusement, glancing at Luis and catching the fond look, which did a great deal to warm Dylan in a complicated way before he looked back at where he was driving. Luis’ regard mattered to Dylan to an overwhelming degree. That he would one day do something to lose it permanently had a feeling of inevitability he could never shake—though in the intervening years they had known one another, the times he had fallen out of Luis' favor had continued to pass—, but nothing else had filled him with quite so much happiness in a long time.
But there were much better things to consider in the moment than all of that, so he pushed the thought aside with ease in the split second it occurred to him, as he never had trouble doing that when Luis was there with him. He smiled wide instead, stealing looks at Luis when he could. There wasn't anyone else on the road, but Dylan was still careful enough to not let himself get too distracted. Even if it would have been very easy to. The once over Luis gave him sent an anticipatory shiver down his spine and he cast Luis a heated look in return. "Hm, whatever could possibly be on your mind, I wonder?" he said, though there really was nothing to wonder about at all given the train of Dylan’s own thoughts. He looked back at the road as he took a turn, impatient to be back at his house already, though in reality it wasn’t too long of a drive.
“He has accepted you, very much,” Luis assured him, not that there was any need: Booker was an old dog with an even older soul, he was pretty sure, and he had taken to Dylan easily and happily, and Luis had accepted that there were times when Booker claimed that lap for himself and didn’t budge again for a while. “I think he misses you when you don’t stop by enough.” It went for Booker and him equally, but this was much easier to say. And it wasn’t like Luis didn’t know that it was as often his own fault, if they went through stretches without seeing each other in their free time.
It was overwhelming at times, having someone look at him the way Dylan did, both the fondness and, well, warmer things; there were times when he couldn’t imagine he could possibly deserve it, or that any minute now, whatever it was that kept Dylan close would wear off, but… It had been quite a while now, and they were still here. It wasn’t what he had expected, coming back to Point Pleasant—it was, truthfully, the furthest thing from what he had imagined possible, but here he was, pleasantly warm in a few different ways, next to the man responsible for it. It felt good. “It’s not my grocery list, I can tell you that much.”
Dylan smiled at Luis’ words. Typically, Dylan didn’t read into a meaning in a way that was favorable to himself, but with as long as he had known Luis, and the fact that it was the kind of thing Dylan himself might say when speaking plainly felt like it was too much, he felt like he knew what Luis meant. “I miss him too, but I never want to risk overstaying my welcome,” Dylan said, since it somehow felt easier to admit that way.
He cast a grin at Luis; the sheer amount of wanting he already felt would be a little ridiculous if it didn’t work out this way whenever he was given moments alone with Luis. Utterly, utterly hopeless. “It must be something very good if it outranks food,” Dylan teased, a sign of how comfortable he was with Luis more than anything else. Turning onto the unlit road that led up to his house, it wasn’t long before he was pulling into his driveway and killing the engine. Impatience drove him to reach over to grasp Luis’ coat and reel him in so Dylan could kiss him for longer, like he’d been wanting to do since he first saw him that night, since, although they were feet away from his house, he couldn’t quite wait even a moment longer.
“I am sure Booker would let you know if you were.” The smile stayed on Luis’ face, and he had to avert his eyes as he chuckled softly; the fondness he felt was entirely too obviously written all over his face, and he was all too glad when they finally pulled into Dylan’s driveway. The hands in his coat and getting pulled halfway out his seat took him by surprise, and it took him a moment to find his balance, bracing one hand on the console between the two seats, so he didn’t end up awkwardly tipping over into Dylan. He probably would have had a smart-mouthed comment about this, about how they weren’t teenagers anymore, but his mouth was blissfully busy otherwise, and with his balance secured, Luis leaned forward to use his free hand to grab into the collar of Dylan’s coat.
It was a little ridiculous, two grown men, necking in a truck like they were sixteen and out past curfew, and yet Luis had half a mind nonetheless to climb into Dylan’s lap—which couldn’t possibly work out well, given that they were hardly the right size to squeeze into one car seat. Somehow, he had managed to inch closer anyway, and it took him a long minute to notice there was a gear shift painfully digging into his thigh and the side of his that wasn’t turned to Dylan was growing ever colder. With herculean effort, Luis pulled back again, at least a few inches, and not without dragging his teeth along Dylan’s lower lip. “Aren’t you going to ask me up for a coffee?” It was a quiet murmur, followed by a breathless laugh.
Getting out of the truck first and going inside first would have provided several benefits, but none of them quite seemed to matter in the moment when he felt the answering press of Luis' lips. Dylan definitely should have been better than this, given his age—he hadn't been a horny teenager in many years, but having impulse control when it came to Luis was something of a monumental effort. Dylan's other hand moved to cup Luis' neck, fingers sliding up and into Luis' hair, knocking his headband a little askew, as he kissed Luis deeper.
Had there been room to maneuver, he would have gladly pulled Luis into his lap, but as it was Dylan put up with the center console digging uncomfortably into his side and the encroaching cold. The scrape of Luis' teeth drew a not quite stifled groan that dissolved into a warm grin as he looked at Luis with evident wanting. "You underestimate how difficult it is to resist kissing you once I've started thinking about it," Dylan said, voice pitched lower. "But will you join me for a coffee, Luis?" The question was teasing, but they should go inside. Still, Dylan pulled back with more than a little reluctance, fingers brushing Luis' cheek affectionately as even then Dylan wanted to touch him as long as he could before moving to get out of the truck, barely remembering to take his keys with him.
There was something of a pleased little sigh as Luis instinctively leaned into the touch, and the grin on his own face was probably bordering on dopey as they parted. It took him a second to find his voice, and when he did, it was almost a whisper. “Milk, no sugar.” As if Dylan didn’t know that already. Luis smoothed down Dylan’s coat before he let go entirely, an almost unconscious movement just so he could keep his hands on him a moment longer, then added with a small smile as his gaze flicked down to his lips for a split second, “And served no earlier than nine in the morning.”
That said, Luis finally managed to pull himself away and get out of the car. His first instinct was to glance around surreptitiously, because making out in a car in a dark driveway felt clandestine somehow, as if they were sneaking around after all, and Luis couldn’t help but laugh at himself. By now, he could embrace how ridiculous, borderline giddy these moments with Dylan made him feel, and he very staunchly kept his eyes off Dylan as he made his way to the front door, absently trailing his hand along the small of Dylan’s back in passing—if he wavered now, they’d never make it inside. “Come on. While we’re young.”
Dylan couldn’t help looking at Luis, which was admittedly playing with fire since seeing him look so carefree stirred overwhelming affection. If Dylan hadn’t long been completely won over by Luis, it was moments like this that had always made falling an eventuality, because happiness looked so blindingly good on him. Something like joy suffused through Dylan. He laughed as Luis passed him, even the passing touch enough to make him want more, and he moved to catch up and surpass him so he could unlock his front door.
“So impatient,” he teased, not that he had any room to talk. He pushed the door open and flipped on a light switch, taking Luis’ hand to draw him inside so Dylan could kiss him properly at once, pushing the door closed to keep out the cold and the rest of the outside world. It was always easier to express how he felt about Luis this way, the longing warmth he held for Luis finding an outlet in the press of their lips. It was interrupted as Pippin came bounding over to greet them, which entailed barking once and looking expectantly up at Luis since he was far more interested in him than Dylan, Marlowe following more sedately behind. Dylan pulled back and smiled at Luis fondly. “You’re missed here as well when you spend too long away, you’ll find.”
Luis very, very happily let himself get pulled inside and met Dylan halfway, unable to keep from smiling into the kiss—or laughing, when a dog started headbutting his leg. It took him a second to disentangle himself, but there was insistent tail wagging hitting his knee, and Luis estimated they had maybe five seconds left before whining would follow. He pressed another quick kiss to Dylan’s lips, simply because he could, then finally knelt down to greet Pippin with a generous dose of head scratches, and Marlowe got a plentiful petting in as well, with a side of cooing and “Hey, gorgeous” thrown in for good measure.
By the time Luis got up again, his coat was covered in a thin blanket of various shades of dog hairs, because that was one thing there had to be time for. He readjusted his headband a little as he turned towards Dylan again with a content smirk on his face, then slipped his hands under the lapels of his coat to push it off his shoulders and pull him a little closer. “Me, impatient? I don’t know what you mean.” His voice dropped to a low murmur again as he prodded his nose gently against Dylan’s, slow and deliberate, before he pressed his lips against his again.
Dylan's heart swelled with warmth as Luis kissed him again, then gave his greetings to Pippin and Marlowe. With something best described as adoration, he watched Luis because he could. Even with gaps of uncertainty, Luis' presence in Dylan's home was always easy and welcome; it had been that way from the beginning, which had once been peculiar, but now he couldn't really imagine how it could have turned out another way. After Luis, Dylan gave head pats to both as well and murmuring a "go back to bed, sweetheart" to Marlowe, since she was getting on in years. She left to reclaim her spot on the couch, then Pippin ran after her, once he realized she left.
Attention fully back on Luis, Dylan was readily pulled closer. "I could be projecting," Dylan admitted, grinning before meeting Luis for the kiss. Dylan shrugged off his coat, careless about where it fell, to free his arms, so he could begin unbuttoning Luis' coat in turn. Once Dylan had it open, he pushed it off of Luis' shoulders and slid his hands over Luis' thinly clothed sides, wrapping his arms around Luis' waist to keep him close before drawing Luis along the familiar path toward his bedroom.
With his own coat out of the way and Dylan’s hands making their way down his side and wrapped around him, Luis was suddenly acutely aware of how little fabric and coverage his costume really provided, and the touch sent a pleasant, unmissable shiver down his spine. The little gasp that escaped him attested to as much, probably. Luis let Dylan lead the way, his hands at either side of his neck to make sure not an inch of space came between them—and that they wouldn’t trip over their feet—as he pressed himself against him.
Taking advantage of their positions, Luis slipped one hand into Dylan’s short hair so he could press his face into the crook of his neck instead, then pressed a warm kiss to the spot right beneath his ear. It took genuine effort to keep his mouth off him for even a second, and his voice was a little breathless with a soft laugh when he managed to speak. “Mhm, you must be. When have I ever been impatient?” Like in the bar right after closing, in the truck, a few dozen other times when keeping his hands off Dylan had become suddenly impossible. He really didn’t think he could ever grow tired of that.
Dylan, meanwhile, was quite pleased with how flimsy Luis’ costume was and had some regrets now for his own more layered one as he sought out the heat of Luis’ skin. He chuckled warmly, the kiss to his neck drawing an approving, quiet hum from him. Neither of them had overmuch patience when it came to keeping their hands off one another, which for Dylan at least had only worsened over time. And yet, for moments like these, Dylan would wait however long it took for Luis to return to him in the times they were apart, for when he gave his heart to someone, he did so entirely and would wait around no matter how long it took until bid otherwise.
Tugging on Luis’ hair to pull him back just enough to smile warmly at him, Dylan teased, “My mistake, you’ve always had the patience of a saint,” before he tilted his head to press his lips firmly against Luis’ again, coaxing the kiss deeper as they reached Dylan’s bedroom. His fingers sought out the shoulder clasp to Luis’ costume, undoing it so the thin fabric could fall to pool at their feet, glad for how easy it was to remove. Dylan slid his hand over the smooth, taut expanse of Luis’ back, unable to get enough of touching him, as Dylan backed them toward his bed.
“Always,” Luis intoned, the grin evident even in his voice, and he happily met Dylan halfway when he leaned in again. He couldn’t help the small noise at the back of his throat, the same way he couldn’t help the heat in the pit of his stomach, and he wrapped his arms around his shoulders if only so he didn’t tip over with how much he was leaning into him. It was utterly ridiculous how little self-restraint he had when it came to Dylan, and he was all too eagerly licking his way into his mouth as they made the familiar route to his bed.
Which was where he did get impatient, and he took a step back, already a little breathless as he did, at least as much as he could without toppling onto the bed—when he would much, much rather be all over Dylan—only so he could start trying to figure out where the knightly layers started and where they ended. “Christ. Tell me where to even start getting this off you.” Luis stepped out of the puddle that was his costume on the floor, and if his attention hadn’t been focused entirely elsewhere, he would’ve probably thought he looked a bit ridiculous, naked except for a pair of tan briefs, sandals and a gold headband of all things, but as it stood… “You don’t want me to get started without you.”
Dylan readily drank in Luis’ taste, the quiet sound coming from him making Dylan want to draw more from Luis as he was just—greedy for everything when it came to Luis, as though Dylan couldn’t quite get enough of him. Ease of removal hadn’t previously been one of Dylan’s considerations for his Halloween costume and only since laying eyes on Luis at the gala had Dylan started to regret that. Ever more so now. He was very, very easily distracted, though, when Luis pulled back, since it gave Dylan the chance to look at Luis nearly naked, and god, he was gorgeous. Dylan’s gaze swept over Luis, heated and openly wanting, breathing already unsteady, and it took a ridiculous amount of willpower to not have his hands on Luis for even a second.
“You know I enjoy watching you,” Dylan said, tone gone low and raw, since that was true, even if he preferred being an active participant. He reached up to unbuckle the part that held on the pauldrons and tossed them aside, though he still had a belt and tunic layer to get through if Luis wanted to help him with that meanwhile. “Though I will not turn away your help in ending up in bed with you as quickly as possible,” he said, then added with something of a rueful laugh, which spoke to how comfortable he was with Luis than anything else, “I may have chosen poorly with this costume, in that respect.”
There was a slight flush spreading over his face at the way Dylan was looking at him, even if it was far from the first time he’d stood more or less naked in front of him, and he ducked his head with a flustered grin, even as he reached forward to hook his fingers into Dylan’s belt to tug him closer and make short work of it. “It’s much better with you.” Even just saying it, Luis felt like he was thrumming with anticipation, and like he had used up the last of his self-restraint behaving all throughout dinner.
“It was a smart choice, probably,” Luis murmured as he reached for the hem of Dylan’s tunic and started lifting it up, close enough again that he could gently, indulgently lean in and nose at his jaw and up his cheek, simply reveling in the closeness. “If it had been easy to remove I might not have been able to resist dragging you off into a bathroom stall.” His accent was growing thicker, now that he was very much preoccupied with other things, something he would have been embarrassed about in any other situation, but not now, not around Dylan, and especially not when he was very happily very busy dragging his fingers up his sides as he pushed the tunic upward.
Dylan smiled softly as Luis nuzzled against him, since just being close to him was intoxicating in its own right. His heart did one of those fluttery somersaults as Luis’ accent became more pronounced. It was one in an admittedly long list of details about Luis that Dylan found endlessly charming. He knew Luis was sometimes self-conscious about his accent, but Dylan liked the cadence it gave to Luis’ voice and, over the years, Dylan had come to associate it with moments like now, so it held a special place.
Having sex in a public restroom wasn’t typically the sort of thing that appealed to Dylan, but threaded through with Luis’ desire and restrained impatience, the idea was hotter. “Not dragging you into the nearest secluded corner to have my way with you was a Herculean struggle,” he said, a shiver going down his spine as Luis’ fingertips stoked the heat that had already settled low in Dylan’s stomach. He lifted his arms to get the tunic off over his head, then cupped Luis’ face to kiss him hungrily. Dylan’s hands smoothed down Luis’ neck, over his bare shoulders, wanting to touch every inch of him, until they came to settle on Luis’ hips, fingertips teasing beneath the waistband of his briefs.
Luis brought one arm up to wrap it around his shoulder, his hand coming to rest at the back of his neck, his thumb brushing into the short crop of Dylan’s hair when he leaned in again, and he met his kiss with equal fervor. “I’m here now,” words mumbled against Dylan’s lips, once he had pulled back just half an inch, enough to get some much needed air, and he couldn’t resist dipping in again to trace his tongue along his before he spoke again, “Have your way with me.” He was already half-hard in his briefs, and at a different time in his life, he would have been embarrassed by his own neediness—but after an evening of shared looks and with the way Dylan still looked at him after, hell, several years now, Luis couldn’t bring himself to feel the slightest tinge of shame. Instead, he arched his back to press himself more tightly against Dylan, seeking out friction, and tipped his forehead against his with a breathless chuckle. “Por favor.”
Gripping Luis’ hips, Dylan rocked against him when he felt the press of Luis’ body. “Como quieras,” Dylan murmured against Luis’ lips, smiling affectionately. He would never deny Luis anything, especially when he already ached with wanting as well. It was a shame there were still layers of clothes between them, really, so he gave Luis another warm kiss, because he could, and curled his fingers to tug Luis’ briefs down and off, unlacing his sandals as well while he was at it. He dragged his gaze up Luis, hands sliding up his thighs, not touching his cock yet, and god Dylan wanted him. He nipped Luis’ hip and stood, pushing Luis gently back. “Get into bed,” Dylan said, starting to hastily divest himself of the rest of his own clothing since he already wanted to be all over him, pressing him into the mattress, his patience nonexistent after an evening of holding back and waiting for this moment.
Hearing Dylan speak Spanish, even if they had never gotten around to proper Spanish lessons, made a different kind of warmth blossom in Luis’ chest, and he kept his hand in Dylan’s hair when he knelt down and mercifully got rid of his underwear and sandals. He couldn’t help the shaky breath that left his lips when Dylan bit at his hip. “Te deseo mucho, Dylan.” Whispered as he slid his hand around and traced his thumb along his jawline when he got back up, and Luis didn’t hesitate to follow that instruction. Luis got onto the bed and scooted up until he could fit himself entirely onto it, then leaned back on his elbow and unabashedly watched Dylan take the last of his clothes off, his gaze half-lidded and heated. Luis barely even noticed he was absently wetting his lower lip, but when he did, he broke out into a grin and reached out to make a grabby hand gesture at Dylan. “Come here.”
"Te deseo también, Luis," Dylan said softly in return, the brush of Luis' thumb sending another pleasant shiver through him. He was already aroused from their actions; from the start, he had always been too preoccupied with how blindingly hot Luis was to remember to be too self-conscious about it while getting undressed in front of him and with as familiar as they were now, Dylan didn't think twice about it. Giving Luis a lopsided grin in return at the sight of him wetting his lip, Dylan climbed into bed, not needing to be told twice. He readily shifted closer, moving to straddle Luis' thighs before leaning in to kiss him deeply. Dylan rested one hand flat against the mattress to take some of his weight, the other moving to trail down Luis' chest, his stomach, and finally close around his cock, stroking him slowly to give him some of the friction he had sought out earlier.
There had been times when Luis had been self-conscious about all this, both about his impatience and simply being naked around someone, after almost a decade with the same partner in particular, or even just sleeping with a man in general, but those concerns were a few years dead now. Not that his lust-addled brain could’ve focused on anything but the now, instead, Luis eagerly met Dylan halfway, shifting his weight around enough that he could support himself on one arm and put his free hand at the back of Dylan’s neck instead, to ensure he was never further than an inch away. He loved the solid weight and warmth of Dylan on top of him, and he shamelessly arched into his touch, the heat his fingers trailed down his chest, until he finally wrapped them around his cock and Luis couldn’t bite back the way he gasped into the kiss. He gave up on his balance to instead wrap his second arm around Dylan’s waist, taking him down into the mattress with him, because not touching as much of him as he could simply wasn’t an option.
That Luis held onto Dylan like he, too, didn't want there to be any more space than absolutely necessary always filled Dylan with a different kind of warmth alongside the overwhelming lust. It didn't surprise him the way it used to, earlier on, when he had been a little surprised that Luis responded to Dylan's advances at all, much less as enthusiastically as Luis always did, but it remained just as meaningful. Dylan readily went with Luis, pressing back down against him with a soft groan as his erection brushed against Luis' thigh. Each of Luis' reactions and the feel of his body beneath Dylan's made his pulse pound, his hand continuing to stroke him. Dylan broke off the kiss for want of air, nuzzling down until he could press his lips against the crook of Luis' neck, breathing unsteady. He lightly scraped his teeth over Luis' skin, not enough to leave a mark since it was too visible a spot and there were better ways for him to claim Luis, though the impulse was certainly there. Pulling back a little to look down at Luis, Dylan said, voice rougher with desire, "I want to fuck you."
Luis pressed his head back into the mattress when he felt Dylan’s teeth graze his neck, and he moaned low in his throat, his pupils blown wide when he met his eyes again. “Christ.” He slid his hand around to cup the side of Dylan’s face and pull him down for another messy kiss, already breathless and aching, while he slid his hand from the small of Dylan’s back to his thigh, to dig his fingers into it and pull him closer. Even just the words were enough to send heat shooting down his spine, straight to his cock, and he instinctively bucked into Dylan’s touch. “Please, please do.” His lips were brushing Dylan’s even as he spoke, voice raspy, and he unconsciously spread his legs a little further—needy—which wasn’t very far, considering Dylan’s knees were bracketing his thighs. He trailed his hand from the side of his face, down his chest, down, down, until he could wrap his fingers around his dick, “I want you in me.”
Dylan kissed Luis back, breathless, groaning into his mouth as their bodies pressed closer together. There was nothing hotter than the sheer need in Luis' responses and the blood went further rushing to Dylan's cock, already aching with want to be inside Luis. Swearing incoherently, Dylan's hips rocked against Luis' hand reflexively in return and he withdrew his own hand from Luis' cock a little reluctantly so he could grab the lube from the nightstand. He shifted to give Luis more room to spread his legs, nudging them further apart with his knee, gazing down at Luis with eyes gone dark with lust. No matter how many times and how familiar Dylan was with Luis' body by this point, he wanted Luis so much that it overwhelmed everything else. Popping open the cap to slick his fingers, Dylan leaned forward to capture Luis' lips in a hard, needy kiss as he pressed one inside the tight heat of Luis' body.
Luis had been impatiently waiting for this all night, his anticipation growing with every stolen glance, and now, pinned underneath Dylan’s weight, he felt like he was on fire. With Dylan moving enough for him to spread his legs and let him resettle between them, Luis reluctantly let go of him enough to allow him to do so and took the time to take a few much needed breaths. As if the way he was looking at him wasn’t wont to steal that breath right away again, and Dylan pushing a first finger into him certainly did the rest. Luis groaned, his back arching with the intrusion, and he hooked his legs around Dylan’s hips to allow him closer, tighter, to get more friction. “Don’t you—“ Another moan interrupted himself, and he pushed back against his hand with unrestrained eagerness, “—dare take your time.” Luis’ voice was heavy with lust, his accent thicker than usual, and he dug his fingers more tightly into Dylan’s thigh; if he wasn’t careful, he’d probably leave bruises, but that was a concern he couldn’t quite bring himself to care about right there and then.
There were times when Dylan liked to go slow and take Luis apart until they were both needy messes, but this was not one of them since they were already at that point with the buildup throughout dinner. It was a little ridiculous how just meeting Luis’ eye across the room could be a turn on, but Dylan had stopped questioning it years ago. “Fuck—” His breathing was ragged as each of Luis’ moans, the feel of him rocking against Dylan’s finger, made his cock throb, and he hastily added another finger to the first. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, growled really, pressing another kiss to Luis’ lips as Dylan sought to get the angle right, fucking Luis with his fingers. He loved how easily Luis’ body yielded—there was nothing hotter and part of Dylan was always selfishly pleased. His own patience was worn thin to the point of nonexistence, the tight grip to his thigh only urging him on further, so it wasn’t long before he broke off the kiss and withdrew his fingers to get more lube, unable to keep from gasping as he slicked his cock. Positioning himself, he pushed slowly into Luis with a long, low groan. Dylan didn’t move beyond that yet, to give both of them a moment, taking a steadying breath as he looked at Luis, since there was no better sight.
It probably spoke volumes that Dylan had Luis writhing underneath him with two fingers alone already, rocking his hips to meet his every movement, and when he met him for a kiss it was messy, all breathless gasps and teeth, because Luis was beyond getting his bearing. More so only when Dylan replaced his fingers with his dick, after what felt like ages and also barely enough, and Luis moaned low and winded already. Eyes screwed tightly shut, he pressed his head back into the mattress, his mouth falling open with a shuddery breath as his body adjusted to the sensation of Dylan’s cock, hot and hard, spreading him open, and he was very, very sure he could never grow tired of this. He was met with the full intensity of Dylan’s gaze when he finally managed to open his eyes, and he could have been self-conscious about the picture he had to make, already flushed and panting (and the headband still caught in his curls somewhere, askew and out of place), but instead he managed a red-faced grin—his whole perception had boiled down to the feeling of Dylan inside him, every inch of contact they shared, and he reached up until he could hold onto his shoulder, then gave a slow, experimental first roll of his hips, gasping when he did.
Dylan's breath hitched as he watched the shift in expressions across Luis' face. He was so fucking gorgeous with his head thrown back in abandon, the gold headband askew in the dark strands of his gray-peppered hair, and Dylan's heart ached in a complicated, familiar way, since he couldn't imagine ever not wanting this, not wanting Luis. For years now, Dylan had been falling for Luis and no matter how many times they were together, Dylan still found that he did so all the more. He swallowed to keep from saying something stupid when Luis grinned up at him and an answering smile curled Dylan's lips upward. The feeling of Luis' body around Dylan's cock and the connection shared between them threatened to consume Dylan completely. When Luis moved, it somehow felt like at last though really wasn't long at all. Dylan moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he braced his hand against the mattress and rocked his hips to find a rhythm with Luis' movement, thrusting into him slow and deep.
There was a particular kind of intimacy about holding Dylan’s gaze while Luis could feel him slide deeper into him, and if he were to think about it, he knew it wasn’t the sensation of his dick inside him that took his breath away so thoroughly—the implications of which were thoroughly overwhelming, so he didn’t dwell. It was all too easy to lose himself in moments like this; he always found it hard to focus on anything but Dylan when he was around, to not give into that pleasant warmth that diffused inside him every time. If he were prone to romanticism, he would liken it to a moth to a flame, the way he always drifted into Dylan’s orbit without even noticing, but—the second Dylan moved his hips every last thought fled Luis’ brain, and Luis moaned, raspy and throaty, his hand sliding from his shoulder to the back of his head, dragging along heated skin and that thin sheen of sweat he knew was covering him as well, scrabbling for purchase that his short hair didn’t remotely provide. “Fuck, Dylan—” Luis’ was cut short by the groan the movement of Dylan’s hips drew from him, and he pulled his head back down close again, “You feel—incredible.”
It was always easy to forget about everything else when with Luis. Not because the rest lacked importance or gravity, but Dylan was so completely drawn in when he got to be around Luis that it frightened him, if he gave it too much thought. Now, though, the intense physical and emotional intimacy they shared didn’t let Dylan consider beyond the immediate moment. Dylan’s head tilted forward as he was drawn down close again, supporting his weight on his elbows, the sounds Luis made stoking an urge in Dylan to draw out more of them. Pressing his lips to Luis’ in a short, messy, kiss, Dylan bit at Luis’ lower lip, staying close enough that their noses brushed, as he continued to rock his hips slowly. “Luis—god—being in you feels so fucking good,” Dylan managed to say, groaning as he punctuated the last with another thrust, increasing the pace incrementally. Shifting his weight to be supported on one arm, he moved his hand back to Luis’ dick once more, enjoying the hot, silken feel against his palm as he smeared precum down the shaft as he stroked Luis.
Luis kept his hand where it was, so he could make sure Dylan’s face wasn’t an inch further from his than this, where he could feel his breath against his lips—there was no denying that he craved that closeness in a way that had nothing to do with sex, ways that he couldn't bring himself to name, much less say out loud, and he groaned when he felt Dylan’s hand around his dick. Every snap of his hips had him fucking up into his hand, and Luis tilted his head until he could lean his forehead against his. He planted one foot on the mattress to give himself enough traction to better meet Dylan's thrusts. “Christ.” It was more of a gasp than a proper spoken word, probably, followed by more murmurings that were bordering on nonsensical; an equal amount of whispered endearments and encouragements in Spanish mixed with pleas for him to just don’t stop, regardless of how much of it Dylan understood, beyond the fact that Luis was already, quickly, very close. He had felt bashful about it afterwards, in the beginning stages, how much he lost control of his tongue, how much sex with Dylan overwhelmed his senses until he lost every sense of restraint, until everything else fell away and he was left only with this ache for more. Now, however—“Fóllame, duro. Please.”
Being further away from Luis than necessary was the last thing Dylan wanted, so he was quite willing to share the same air as him, brushing his lips against Luis' when he could manage, because he wanted to span even that last inch. His senses were overwhelmed, consumed so thoroughly that everything began and ended with Luis, which was something Dylan welcomed wholeheartedly. He moaned as Luis found some leverage and pushed back against him, his hips snapping to meet Luis' movement. Only some of what Luis said registered in Dylan's mind, which was as much the lust that clouded coherent thought as anything else, but between Luis' tone and movement, it wasn't difficult to figure out what he meant. "Fuck—" It was always impossible for Dylan to deny Luis anything, especially now. Dylan braced himself as best he could to steady himself as he thrust into Luis harder, deeper. He wanted to imprint himself on Luis' body so that the memory would be slow to fade even when they were apart, to have Luis as his for however long Dylan could. It was a selfish, possessive impulse that was always there but he was afraid to give expression to it in any way other than this. The tension was already building rapidly though his body and it wouldn't be long for Dylan, either, but he held off. He moved his head to murmur against Luis' ear between ragged breaths, stroking Luis' cock in rhythm as Dylan fucked him. "Come for me, Luis. I want to feel you."
Luis bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly when Dylan readily complied, and he let go of Dylan’s thigh only so he could grasp at the sheets, white knuckled, as every thrust pushed him harder into the mattress, and he could already tell he would be feeling this long into the next day. He could feel the heat building all the way at the base of his spine, diffusing through every inch of him, and it didn’t take much more for the pressure to become overwhelming. “Fuck—“ Dylan’s rasped words, his lips against his ear, did the rest—his back arched, Luis threw his head back into the mattress with a more or less silent shout, his fingers digging into the back of Dylan’s neck, as his orgasm spilled messily over his hand, his own chest. This was the sort of thing he wouldn’t have expected to do much for him, much less turn him on to the point where it sent him over the edge, and Luis barely felt like he was regaining his mind. Panting, cut off moans followed as the aftershocks rippled through him, and he turned his head enough to capture Dylan’s lips with his own again, wet and sloppy. “Your turn,” his voice was breathless, but he found control over his limbs again, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he rolled his hips again, squeezing. “Come. In me.”
There was nothing hotter than Luis when he came and the way Dylan could feel Luis’ body drawn taut around his cock, the press of Luis’ chest as his back arched and his fingers dug into Dylan’s skin. He stroked Luis through his orgasm as it spilled hot between them, the movement of his hips momentarily stilled. Getting Luis off was its own reward, since Dylan took a deep satisfaction every time that was a sharp, electrifying jolt that went straight to his cock. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway, even less so once Luis rolled his hips, tightened around him, and said those words. “Fuck—Luis—” Dylan’s words were choked on a moan as his hips rocked to meet Luis, once, twice, and the pressure that had been building in what felt like his entire being finally found release as he came buried deep inside Luis with a long, ragged groan. The wave of pleasure that overcame him temporarily blanked out any kind of thought and he all but collapsed on top of Luis, breathing hard. Dylan tilted his head to press his lips to Luis’, gently now, simply to revel in the closeness shared between them for another moment, easing out of Luis but not moving away from him beyond that quite yet.
Luis made no secret of the way he watched Dylan’s face, mesmerized and too spent to care, moving with his last few thrusts, his eyes only fluttering close again when he could feel Dylan’s body tense and his cock throb inside him as he came. There was an affectionate, breathless chuckle when he all but collapsed on top of him, and Luis mustered enough strength to wrap his arms around him. His own mind blissfully empty and his body lax in the aftermath of his orgasm, Luis enjoyed the warm weight of Dylan on top of him, and he only groaned softly when he could feel Dylan pull out of him, overstimulated and sensitive, and the fluids that came with it, before he relaxed back into the mattress and adjusted his position a little to accommodate the body on top of his. He traced his fingers gently up and down his spine, sweat slick and still radiating heat, his other hand softly teasing along the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wordlessly but unmistakably content. Realistically, he knew they had maybe five minutes of bliss before things were going to become sticky as they slowly cooled down and disentangling would become more unpleasant than needed, for him likely more than Dylan, but for the time being, Luis was more than happy to just bask in the warmth and closeness. He shifted until he could place lazy kisses against his lips, the corner of his mouth, without either of them having to lift their head, unwilling to speak or do anything else that would disturb this moment he wanted to stay in for a long while longer.
Bliss diffused through Dylan, leaving his limbs heavy and sated and his mind without concern, euphoric in the shared post-coital haze they shared. The solid, familiar press of Luis' body beneath Dylan's created a singular kind of contentment where Dylan didn't want to move, even if he would sooner rather than later before it became uncomfortable for Luis. Dylan kissed Luis back lazily, smiling against his lips as happiness stirred Dylan's heart to a pleasant ache of warmth that always had everything to do with Luis in a way that was overwhelming. He ducked his head, nuzzling against Luis' neck and placing a soft kiss there, breathing in the scent of sex and Luis' skin and the faint trace of his soap. He ran his hands over Luis' side, just wanting to touch him more. However long this moment could last, it wouldn't ever be enough, since Dylan would gladly just exist with Luis like that forever, if that had been an option.
It wasn't, though, and as their bodies were cooling down, Dylan pulled back to give Luis a soft, unguardedly affectionate, smile. He slid off of Luis to lie alongside him, still reluctantly, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed at Luis, who looked as wrecked as Dylan felt. Reaching over, he finally disentangled the gold headband from Luis' hair and set it aside so he could run his fingers through the dark curls, dampened with sweat, as Dylan couldn't help but feel a little smug. He should get up to get a washcloth to get cleaned up some, but he still lingered another moment. "You've made this gala evening much more enjoyable than it has ever been," Dylan murmured.
Luis felt warm and pleasant, lazily satisfied, and he sighed softly when Dylan kissed his neck, knowing how nicely he fit into the space. Almost without noticing, he immediately leaned into the touch when Dylan touched his hair, only to furrow his brows when he started disentangling the headband he had completely forgotten about. “Was that there the whole time?” He was a little mortified by the ridiculousness of it, and if his face hadn’t still been flushed, it would have been now. If he looked even half as wrecked as he felt, he had to look ridiculous, whereas Dylan looked… fucking delectable, still heated and afterglow-y. Luis took a few long moments just to study his face, a soft smile on his own, and it made something unmissable twist in his stomach. Not unpleasantly—he wasn’t unaware of the way he felt about Dylan, but it overwhelmed him sometimes, and even more so how little he knew what to do with it all.
“Have I now?” His own voice dropped and he grinned, more than a little satisfied, then shifted to put his free arm under his head, making it a little more comfortable to look up at Dylan. It was telling that Luis had almost forgotten that they had been at a gala just hours earlier. “Maybe you were not as good at prowling these past years.” Luis enjoyed the moment for a little longer, then grimaced as he tried to move, suddenly very aware of whatever lingering stickiness remained, and after another second, he pushed himself up into a seating position with some grumbling. “I’m going to need to—clean myself up. I will be right back.” He gave Dylan another smile, then leaned over to brush a kiss against his forehead—and another, because—then rolled himself out of bed to (a little gingerly) make his way to the bathroom.
“I didn’t think much about it until now,” Dylan said, since he hadn’t. Luis looked stunningly beautiful either way, in Dylan’s opinion, and he could never tire of looking at him. Even though, physically, his body was spent, Dylan wanted Luis—could he ever stop wanting Luis?—and he loved seeing him like this, relaxed and as blissed out as Dylan was. When Luis looked at him like that, it was impossible to not love him, though Dylan often choked on the feeling since it always felt like it was too much for whatever casual relationship they had. He didn’t know what he had done to get Luis’ attention, but Dylan was certain he could easily ruin it at any moment; he was already in too deep to not get attached and, selfishly, he wanted to keep Luis with him, however long he was able. At some point Luis was bound to realize he deserved much, much better than anything Dylan could possibly offer him. If Dylan were a stronger man, he would encourage Luis to reach that realization, but as it was he kept hoping the day would not come until the far distant future.
“I had no reason to prowl, since you weren’t in attendance,” Dylan returned. He hadn’t so much as noticed anyone else since he walked into Books & Beer several years ago and fallen headfirst into what he felt for Luis. He smiled back as Luis kissed his forehead, but was quick to follow him out of bed, since while he acknowledged the practicality, he didn’t want to be apart from him. It was silly and possibly too needy, but he wrapped his arm around Luis’ waist all the same as he came up behind him, pressing his lips to the nape of Luis’ neck. “I should have offered to get you a washcloth so you could stay in bed. Unless you wanted to shower?”
“That could have been more reason to prowl,” Luis pointed out with an arched eyebrow, and immediately wanted to kick himself for it, thankful he was heading for the bathroom anyway so he could pretend he hadn’t said anything. His own insecurity was an ugly thing and he loathed it; that pathetic need for reassurance that sometimes reared its head, when they both knew Dylan had no real commitment to him. And that was fair—with how flighty Luis was, he reasoned that he was, at best, an acceptable option to bide his time with, but hardly someone anyone would put up with in the long run. Because there were times when it was too much for him, when he could suddenly feel his past mistakes breathing down his neck, the certainty that he would repeat them, too stubborn, too clingy, too desperate, too… himself. Denial and suppression were simpler, something that had been much easier when he had still worked at the pub and could ignore his feelings, when he hadn’t run into Dylan five times a week at work and been faced with the complicated cocktail of emotions that seeing him brought on.
There was no telling ahead of time when things overwhelmed him, and yet, moments like these… It couldn’t have been further from his mind. Dylan’s presence tended to have that effect on him. Luis, self-indulgently, leaned back against the warm body at his back, then tilted his head back enough to nose at Dylan’s jaw and stay there for a few thoroughly content moments. Christ, he had it bad. “I need to take my contact lenses out,” he told him finally, in a low whisper, entirely too easily distracted by Dylan’s proximity, “I had to get up anyway.” He brushed his fingers along Dylan’s arm, just a simple gesture to make sure he knew he was very welcome here, then began tugging him further along to the bathroom. “But a shower probably couldn’t hurt.” At the very least, it would be the much more comfortable to wake up showered.
They had been tangled up with each other only moments before, but Dylan still wanted to hold Luis close, enjoying the warm press of his back against Dylan's chest, his arm settling more securely around Luis' waist so there was no space between them. No matter how worried Dylan sometimes got about scaring Luis off with how thoroughly and completely attached Dylan had become when Luis hadn't ever really seemed to want to be in a serious relationship with Dylan, none of that ever seemed to reach him when they were together like now. He smiled as Luis' nose nudged his jaw, perfectly happy as Luis welcomed Dylan's presence. His heart warmed when Luis tugged him along, Dylan following quite readily. "I'm guessing you don't mind if I join you," he murmured, grinning at Luis. Dylan withdrew his arm from Luis' waist so it was easier to move, but he couldn't keep from touching him, his hand skimming over Luis' hip, his side—wherever he could touch him, really.
There were lasting signs of Luis scattered around Dylan's home, items that had made their way there either from practicality or forgetfulness, which always did complicated things to his heart in some of the times they were apart. Some Dylan added intentionally, like making sure there was always contact solution, or the coffee Luis preferred, or anything else that occurred to him, since he wanted Luis to feel like he belonged there, which was something Dylan could never quite say because of how much he wanted it and how much he feared it might scare Luis away if Dylan drew too much attention to it. When they reached the bathroom, Dylan pressed a kiss to Luis' temple and moved to turn the shower on while he dealt with his contacts so the water could warm. The comment Luis had made earlier, though, hadn't been lost on Dylan, and he looked at Luis fondly. "You're the only person I would have wanted to end my night with, you know, so in years past it would have been a fruitless search."
“I guess I wouldn’t hate it if you joined me.” Said with a grin in his voice, and he brushed a kiss against the corner of Dylan’s jaw before he let him extricate himself and made his way to the bathroom sink. For the longest time, it had felt presumptuous to him to even leave a toothbrush at Dylan’s place, and while it had surprised him in the beginning, nowadays he didn’t even think about the fact that he knew exactly where to reach for contact solution and an overnight container. There was a small smile on his face for a short moment, but he couldn’t quite believe Dylan’s words, either, and much less did he want to talk about it, so he didn’t acknowledge them beyond that nor take his eyes off what he was doing. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t a jealous man—even just the thought that Dylan could have gone home with someone else stirred things in him he tried to bury deep, feelings he didn’t have any right to, he knew, but even with Dylan’s assurance believing that he was the best choice seemed like too much of a stretch.
So he didn’t linger on it. As always.
It took him a minute to remove the lenses and store them away before he turned to Dylan again, a sight he could still very much appreciate even a little blurrier, and he flashed him a smile. He traced his hand along the small of Dylan’s back, a silent invitation to come along, and stepped past him into the shower. “Thank you.” For turning on the shower and letting it run warm, and a few other things he didn’t name. He turned his face up into the spray, washing the sheen of sweat off himself and letting it soak his hair—he had intended for it to be just a quick two minute shower, but… this was pretty nice. Now all that was missing was Dylan. “Come on. While the water’s hot.”
The times when Luis didn’t respond were ones where Dylan was never certain if Luis chose not to because he didn’t believe Dylan, or because he didn’t want to hear those words from Dylan. Saying that Luis was the only one Dylan wanted to end his nights with was likely too close to an admission of… something that wasn’t simply casual. He had a much easier time understanding why Luis wouldn’t want to be tied down to someone like Dylan, so it seemed more reasonable to him that it might be the latter. It was the truth, though, so he wasn’t going to try to take it back, but he didn’t want to push the matter, either. He quickly buried the pang of longing for something he couldn’t have and shook his head slightly, drawn the rest of the way out of his thoughts when Luis called him into the shower.
Dylan got in behind Luis, taking a moment to admire him as the water sluiced over him, heart still aching a little. Stepping closer, Dylan coaxed Luis to turn around so Dylan could kiss him under the warm stream of water. He cupped the back of Luis’ head with one hand, fingers sliding through the wet strands of his hair, his other hand settling on Luis’ hip. It wasn’t the most efficient way to shower, but it was always much more enjoyable, getting to have Luis close to him as the water washed over them. Dylan pulled back after a moment, grabbing a bar of soap to lather his hands before he ran them over Luis’ shoulders, his chest, lips quirking into a smile. “The hot water should last a while,” he said, which was something Luis probably knew already.
The shower was nice, but Luis appreciated the additional warmth of Dylan at his back, and easily turned around in his arms to kiss him back. He smoothed his own hair back while Dylan reached for the soap, water dripping down his face and further obscuring his vision, but he appreciated his hands on him even without seeing much. This was a different kind of intimacy than what they had shared maybe ten minutes earlier, and Luis didn’t question that he leaned into this just as readily.
He was still feeling a little raw, a little emotional, and he wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist and leaned in to kiss him again, languidly. It was impeding any attempts at getting properly showered, sure, but with the reassurance that the water would last a while—and all that pent up tension from earlier worked out of his system—Luis didn’t try to resist the urge to lean into this closeness Besides, with his lips pressed against Dylan’s, he didn’t run the risk of saying something else stupid and needy. This was easy, getting lost in these moments, not questioning too deeply what he felt, or thinking about what it meant.
Existing with Luis in the moment was rarely a problem for Dylan when they were together and the other concerns that had sprung to mind bled away in the warm press of Luis' lips. Dylan craved this quieter intimacy as much as he did the more urgent passion shared between them. It was easy to lean back into the warm feeling that came from being with Luis. Running his hand down Luis' spine to rest at the small of his back, Dylan drew him gently closer, wanting the press of their bodies without seeking anything beyond sharing space with him. It was more than a little needy, but Dylan enjoyed knowing that Luis wanted to be close to him in the here and now. He smiled against Luis' lips, breaking off the kiss slowly as he tilted his head so their brows touched, his eyes closed as he slid his arms around Luis to simply hold him for a moment, content as the warm spray washed over them both.