smilestopscars | Room 210, Sunday Afternoon

Dante laughed, slightly breathless, and then peered back down studiously.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Missed that. Guess we're having a stiff disagreement."

He'd be serious in a minute. Probably.

Why bother? Nothing about this was very serious in the first place.

Besides, Ezra was committed to at least keeping him focused. By biting down. He definitely wanted a bruise down here.

... True. That was part of why Dante liked swinging by here so much.

Though now he definitely wasn't laughing anymore.

He dropped his head back with a low moan, and suddenly his fingers were gripping Ezra's hair a whole lot harder.

Oh, jackpot.

You know what that called for? Inching a little higher for another bite. If his teeth happened to graze the skin he'd already bruised as well? Oops.

Yeah. Sure. Oops.

Better not be an oops. Because that was one beautiful ache traveling up through Dante right now. He whimpered this time, free hand seeking purchase on the bed somewhere. There. Yes.

Complete accident. Much like the nipping of various levels of pressure that happened all along the now-tender skin. Complete accident and not at all an effort at more whimpering, or more sounds of any kind, really.

Because it wasn't like those were making Ezra stay hard or anything.

Hey, if Ezra had been hoping to turn Dante into a shivering mess in just a few minutes, congratulations. Little pain there was so good, wrecking those sensitive nerves that were used to a whole lot worse.

He blew out a ragged breath, peeling his hand off the mattrass so he could cup the back of Ezra's neck instead. He was pretty sure most of his blood was heading south, if it wasn't there already.

See what Ezra could do when he wasn't just being a lazy bastard? His general smugness was earned, goddammit. He smirked to himself, then shifted again. Further up.

And that wasn't Dante's thigh, anymore. No, Ezra gave him a nice long lick right along the length of his dick because he just couldn't help himself.

And then he went right on to make sure Dante's other thigh got a sharp bite as well. He'd said he was going to be thorough this time, right?

He had. Hey, at least Ezra could keep a promise.

"Fuck," Dante gasped, and then Ez's mouth was on his other thigh and biting and it was less of a Fuck and more of a Ngggh. His nails scratched lightly over the back of Ezra's neck and his hips wanted to move but they didn't quite know where.

And maybe in a second he'd realize he was running that other hand through Ezra's hair again, this time in pointless circles, but right now his focus was pretty single-spot.

Ezra had realized. Or noticed. One of those. It was nice, although his focus was elsewhere too, really. There was a lick along the thigh, for a false sense of gentleness before another bite.

It was pretty harsh. The ones after were much lighter, but then again they were happening on sensitized skin, again. Because he was the worst, or the best, or at the very least a giant tease.

Dante's eyes had shut a while ago, but he was prying them half-open now, craning his head so he could get a good look at what was going on down there.

Hazy look, but still. A good look. 'Cause he was pretty much aching by now.

"Jesus, Ez," he muttered shakily.

"Hot."

Had Dante not been looking for an assessment of the way he sounded right now? Too bad, he got it anyway. Ezra licked over the soon to be bruised skin, then looked up with a smirk.

"Is there something you want, darling?"

"25-75 on wanting you to fuck me or suck me off right now," Dante sighed. "Nice one."

Fuck. Really nice one.

Ezra clucked his tongue. "I don't know if I should do either while you can still do math that well."

That was a lie.

"Hey, I'm not stopping you whatever you do," Dante drawled, because he was out of it that much, at least, and it was audible in his voice.

For that one, he got one last bite on his already bruised thigh. Not that he'd know it was the last one. It was harsh, though, in particular because it was mostly on skin that had already been through enough.

But he was quick to switch up the sensations. Something had been mentioned about sucking someone off, and Ezra was more than happy to provide. And it wasn't just some idle lick, this time. Not when he could just go for taking Dante all in.

No biting there. Sucking, though? Most definitely.

Biting there would be a little much.

Not that Dante was thinking about that. At all. Holy shit. The bite had seen him squirm and gasp, and then fuck, uh, fuck. His fingers gripped Ezra's hair tight and he couldn't stop himself from rocking his hips up even if he wanted to.

As far as Ezra was concerned, he had no need to stop that. He welcomed it. Kind of greedily, in fact, digging his nails into Dante's hip for a good grip and some control – or just to scratch red marks into his skin again. Or both. Probably both.

He rocked his head forward. And back. And forward. His tongue working, too, rubbing and swirling.

Yeah, Ezra's smugness was well-earned. Dante let out a choked-out noise, and between his grip on Ezra's hair and the motion of his hips, he was just fucking going for it. Arched his back and moaned again, not loud, but frequent.

Guh.

But did he know how hot he was right now? Because Ezra did. And he was kind of aching to do something about the effects of that, but he tended to be a little more lacking in selfishness in these situations, so he kept his focus where it was.

The very muffled growl was for both their benefit. The sucking that came in pulses of heightened intensity was entirely for Dante's.

Honestly? Dante didn't really know much of anything right now, besides that Ezra had the best fucking mouth ever and he'd happily fucking stay here if it wasn't for the bit where a familiar haze was setting in already.

He was also pretty sure he'd just said at least half of that shit out loud. Not that he cared. It was hot, and wet, and if he wrenched his eyes half-open he could fucking see it.

Fortuitously, Ezra even managed to provide him with a brief bit of eye contact. He knew the pleasure of visual thrills very well, in particular in situations like this.

But then his focus was back on what he considered to be most important here. And that was making sure Dante wouldn't be able to hold on for very much longer at all. See, he knew he had the best fucking mouth ever, but there was absolutely no harm in proving that all the same.

So. His attention did not let up a single bit, quite the opposite. He knew Dante was far gone, but that wasn't good enough. He needed to be gone. So, Ezra reached into his skill set to make sure he got just a little bit rougher, just a little bit deeper. And with great enthusiasm.

Dante's eyes fluttered back shut, because it turned out looking was just a stupid, unwelcome distraction from feeling. His breathing ran ragged and his movements became haphazard, though he wasn't letting go of his grip on Ezra's head, the hair under his fingers a weird but nice contrast to the sweet burn below his waist.

Then he lost track of it entirely, back arching again as he pressed his head against the pillow with a loud, shaking, drawn-out "Fuck."

And that was it.

He was gonna think back on this one fondly when things inevitably went back to shit.

Ezra saw him through it. No point being too hasty to pull away when he could make sure Dante's good experience was complete.

Though eventually he did. And the noise from his lips when he pulled back was practically pornographic. Oh well.

Went nicely with his obligatory smirk.

Dante collapsed back against the bed with a little satisfied sigh.

Give him a second.

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