smilestopscars | Room 210, Friday Afternoon

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Room 210, Friday Afternoon

It'd been almost two weeks. Ezra was starting to be okay. Which was to say, he'd repressed the hell out of the fact that he'd seen ––

You know what? No. Let's just not go there. He'd been thoroughly over it once he'd stopped shaking and wanting to puke his guts out (after he'd felt like he already had). And that had been the very same day already, so. He was done with it, and had been for almost two weeks.

(The less said about said two weeks, though, the better. Unless you happened to be a fan of questionable coping methods.)

Things were just fine now. He'd just finished packing up a box of his winter stuff that he needed to send up to Currant to Ava for safekeeping, and was currently just standing by the window, looking up towards the sky. Maybe today he'd go out exploring.

Get into trouble.

[ooc: Open door, open post. ETA: Dante thread going NSFW, no surprise to anyone.]

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Dante sighed, pleased with the attention. He slid his hands further up Ezra's body, trying to take the shirt off the whole way. It felt like a waste of time to stick to half-measures.

Even if that meant having to pull away from Ezra's mouth for five seconds. Sad. Real sad.

It was pretty sad to have to pull hands away from Dante, too, but Ezra did it anyway, holding his arms up so the shirt could come off.

It'd pay off later. It was a small price to pay.

Dante was intent on making it pay off as soon as fucking possible, his hands smoothing over Ezra's chest, tweaking his nipples. He leaned in, kissing the skin right under Ezra's jaw as he crowded him harder up against the wall.

After the past six months, it'd been almost easy to forget why this had always been good. This was clean and focused and Ezra was pretty; none of the other complicated crap came anywhere near it.

And he had let some of his sleeping around get a brand of complicated.

Ezra was complicated all by himself, but at least he'd managed to keep all that contained just to himself.

He growled again. And now his hands were pushing up underneath Dante's shirt, his nails scratching along the skin there. A little rough, but that was just nice.

Ezra wasn't waking up after a weekend's worth of pushing 40 and somehow winding up in an Arrangement with two other people who were in reality either dead or gone complicated. That was all Dante asked for.

Not that it mattered now. Ez was getting rough, and it was good; Dante let out a gasp, his hips rocking idly forward. He bit down on Ez's neck, hands still moving, exploring.

It'd been a while. It was good to remind himself just how fucking pretty Ezra was.

And he was really fucking pretty. So he couldn't really blame Dante.

He could, however, drag his nails up Dante's back with continuing harshness and sharpness. And if he also squirmed his hips against his, well. Couldn't help himself.

Yeah, that got Dante's fingers clenching in Ezra's belt really quickly. And then scooting around to the front, trying to get that open. Good pain was always a great motivator.

But Ezra knew that about him.

He tilted his head up, caught Ezra's mouth again, but not for long. Bit a trail along Ezra's jaw instead, muttering, "Am I better than the planet yet?" seconds before he ran his tongue along the shell of Ezra's ear.

Right this second, Ezra couldn't remember why he'd been avoiding Dante for a long while now.

It was a good feeling.

Almost as good as warmth and wetness and breath against his ear. Almost as good as fingers undoing his belt. Ezra's lips curved into another smirk as his head tipped back against the wall.

"What planet?"

"That's better," Dante said, and the smirk on his lips was nothing short of filthy.

He nipped at Ezra's nipple on his way down, but he didn't linger as he nudged Ezra's pants down his hips.

"Still not as good as things are about to get, I bet," Ezra sighed. Managing to slide one hand to idly scratch at the back of Dante's neck, now.

"Probably."

Dante tilted his head, his chin touching Ezra's stomach as he smirked upwards. His hand wrapped around Ezra's length, giving it a few idle tugs to make sure he was ready.

Oh, he was ready. While his mind had shown some signs of failing him over the course of the last while, his body never did. Which was awfully convenient, as it was pretty involved in his main methods of coping with just about anything.

He was getting harder by the second.

"Never did hear about a planet famed for its skills at oral sex."

Dante laughed softly. "Don't give the island ideas," he said. "Or maybe, do."

He pressed his mouth to Ezra's stomach, dragging his tongue over the muscle. Down, down, down-- and then his lips were sliding over the head of Ezra's dick as he kept his hand where it was, moving slowly.

Ezra let a moan slip out. He never cared about the kinds of noises he made, and to feel and see Dante's mouth on him was more than enough reason to let his appreciation be heard.

"Mmmh."

That, too.

"I don't think a planet could compare."

The one thing that sucked - heh - about doing this: Ezra was gonna keep talking, and if Dante wasn't careful, he was going to crack up at a really unfortunate time.

But he kept his face straight. ... For a very loose definition of 'so to speak'.

He toyed with the head of Ezra's dick, sliding his tongue around, mapping a few things he'd forgotten about over the months. His hand slid away until it was pressing gently up against Ezra's hip.

Then he bobbed forward. Just the once. Take in as much as he could.

And Ezra watched that. Raptly. He splayed one hand against the wall by his hip, while the other stayed on the back of Dante's head. Just resting there.

For now.

He let out a slow hiss of pleasure. "Okay, I'll admit, I've missed this."

Damn it, Ezra. You weren't supposed to bring up that there'd been time between this and the last one. (Dante might've been happy to hear it, oh, two months ago. Now his mental response was more complicated. Not that it mattered.)

He let his tongue slide along the bottom of Ezra's dick, because complications or not, fuck, he'd kinda missed Ezra too. He pulled away, but not far, skin barely an inch way from his mouth. He bit down on his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth.

Then he took Ezra in again.

The guy did always inspire him to make it pretty.

If he didn't want Ezra to slip up, he needed to be less good at blowjobs. It was as simple as that!

No, it wasn't. But it could've been.

And it wasn't like he didn't know that had been the wrong thing to say by some scales. But he wans't going to dwell on it. Not when he could be enjoying himself instead.

His fingers tightened in Dante's hair some.

Dante was willing to forgive him, anyway. So it didn't really matter in the end, did it?

He took to this in earnest, drawing Ezra in deep, then backing off, and repeat. His hand slid back up Ez's chest to play with a nipple and just touch skin, appreciate all the muscle packed away behind that pale skin.

He shut his eyes and let himself enjoy the sensation, from his own motions to the grip on his hair.

"Okay, someone's getting his shoulder bitten the hell out of today," Ezra sighed, as his hips twitched forward just a little bit. Just a little.

Dante hummed in response, more than happy with that idea. The motion of Ezra's hips didn't seem to faze him; in fact, he cupped Ezra's balls with one hand, playing with them some.

Bring it on, Ez.

Well, with that kind of encouragement... Yes.

"Maybe your thighs, too."

He sounded considerably more distracted now. Probably had something to do with how the next movement of his hips was less a twitch and more a thrust.

Good.

Dante'd had a problem lately, thoughts slipping back to two people in particular; the more Ezra pushed, the harder it became for him to focus on anything else.

He took it easily, only making a brief, hoarse noise in the back of his throat as he adjusted. He stilled the movements of his head, eyes flicking up at Ezra's face.

Ezra was looking down at him. He was a visually-oriented person – up to a point, anyway. He was approaching the point after which it was best to just feel instead of seeing, but he wasn't there yet.

His smirk was dirty.

The thrusts were a constant now, pushing his hips off the wall, and his fingers were tight in Dante's hair.

Yeah. That was right.

Dante's own eyes slid shut this time as he tried to focus on nothing but the rhythm of Ezra's thrusts, pressing his tongue up against him on his way in. Humming in the back of his throat, his fingers moving over Ezra's balls, then back. Just messing around, drawing circles around his hole, then way on back.

If his touches were firmer and more deliberate every time Ezra moved a little quicker or a little rougher, well, fuck, what did you want him to say?

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