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 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?

Nothing. Ezra wanted him to say nothing because that would've jeopardized having that mouth on him, and he wanted nothing else right now.

Anyway.

Even in his worsening haze, he still took note of the cause-and-effect happening in what he did versus what Dante did. He was pretty happy with the conclusion and solution he came to, there. Rougher and quicker was what he needed about now. His pace had been half leisurely until now, but now, he moved with intent.

It seemed like that intent was to leave Dante feeling like his mouth had been well and truly fucked.

You could say a lot about Ezra outside of this - but where sex was involved, you got what you came for. And that was exactly what Dante'd come for.

Well. Not yet. But they'd get to that in due time.

He stopped keeping track of anything but the rhythm of Ezra's thrusts, working his tongue and the humming of his throat as well as fucking possible to make it good. His mouth was getting all kinds of wet, but he didn't give a shit about that. He was starting to ache against his pants and that was good, too, driving him to fucking distraction.

His finger pressed in. Just a little bit. Couldn't go much further anyway.

Maybe that hum was more of a moan.

Ezra's eyes were closed now. Mostly, anyway. He wasn't seeing much, was the point. He was letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Lost enough that that it almost took him by surprise once the last of his control finally snapped. One last urgent thrust – deeper, more wetness, more everything – and he was coming with a deep growl he wasn't really even aware of. The same with his fingers, grasping Dante's hair and the back of his head so tightly, as if there was any real danger of him pulling away too soon from this.

Under other circumstances, Dante might've wanted to pull away, to do something about what was flooding his mouth. Right now he welcomed the grip and the strain of it, shunting his thoughts completely into accomodating this. Sucking a ragged, audible breath in through his nose as his hands slid around, clutching Ezra's hips tight.

Ezra's hold, while tight, wasn't very long-lasting, at least. His grip loosened as the most of it was over, and then his hand pulled away entirely as his hips sunk back against the wall.

"Jesus," he sighed, appreciatively.

"Don't think he's anywhere near here," Dante said, sounding more than a little hoarse.

He sat back on his knees, loosening his jaw back up.

"No, I suppose I'm enough of a godlike presence for one room, anyway." He was, as ever, hilarious. Ruffled Dante's hair before running his hand through his own. "Phew."

Dante snickered, wiping idly at his mouth with the back of his arm. "Yeah, we all just show up here to bask in your glory, Ez," he said, getting up.

Well, bask in something of Ezra's, anyway.

"Well, I have a lot to give to bask in." Of course that sounded dirty somehow. It didn't even require any effort, under the circumstances. "It seems only right."

And certainly not with present company. Dante grinned at him, lazily advancing on him again. "I can't say I'm complaining."

"Nor should you." He reached out brush his fingers over Dante's cheek. The gesture was pretty lazy too. "Complaining gives people wrinkles."

"And I don't want to wreck my pretty face, right?" Dante said, smirking down at him.

He slid his hand idly over Ezra's side.

Then nudged him towards the bed.

"My, it feels like I'm being led somewhere," Ezra noted, mock surprised, batting his eyelashes. Yes, even as he moved towards the bed.

"I didn't come here just to give you a blowjob," Dante said, tugging off his own shirt while he was at it. He tossed it aside, nipping idly at Ezra's bottom lip while he was at it. "Though that part wasn't a letdown."

Look, he didn't want a silence of any kind to fall and allow his thoughts to come intruding back into his head.

"I didn't think you came here for anything specific," Ezra teased, his hands traveling down to the waist of Dante's pants. To undo them, unsurprisingly. "Sounds like I was wrong, darling."

"Okay, fine," Dante said, smirking. "I came here to hang out. Just making the rest of it up as I go along." He dipped his head down to nip at Ezra's neck. "You got me."

"I usually do." And see, he was being so good about not slipping up and referring to their not insignificant separation over the past six months. Easier to do now that he wasn't completely distracted. Even if he was currently pushing Dante's pants a little ways down his hips. "It's a gift."

It was in Ezra's benefit not to bring it up, too. The vast majority of those months had a lot more to do with his state of mind than Dante's.

"And we've already figured out that you've got a lot of those," Dante said, wriggling until his pants went further down his legs. "Though you might want to remind me about a couple."

Let's face it, it was generally Ezra's benefit not to bring things up. Half his life was one big diversion. It just hadn't been it this specifically from Dante, before.

That might've hurt, if he'd let it. But the thing he was hiding hurt worse.

So. Anyway.

He gave Dante a little nudge towards the bed, now. "I think I already promised you one or two."

Yeah, well.

In his own way, Dante had tried.

Before. Right now he wasn't honestly even sure what he was doing here. Ezra was too pretty and too perfect on the outside, and in recent months the inside hadn't done much else besides lash out at him.

Fuck it, though. And yolo. Or whatever. He flopped back onto the bed, stretching his arms out above his head, and looked at Ezra. Eyebrows raised.

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