(no subject)
Yeah, I don't even know. Inspired by another player's Ginko, and fueled by my own Ginko-crush. I just can't help that he'd be so good for Jay. >>
Warnings: meh, nothing big. Just kisses. And an attempt to write the sexiest second hand smoke breathing ever. >>
The smoke isn’t one that Jason’s familiar with, but he can smell it, taste it even as it curls in a thin silver stream from the other man’s lips. It’s a flash of odd intimacy, and Jason breathes in deeply, greedily hoarding it, letting more of that diffuse silver cloud flow into him, sliding over his tongue and down his throat.
The taste and scent are thick and herbal, lingering in his mouth, and when he licks his lips, he thinks he can taste it on his tongue, a faint residue that he greedily hoards, licking at his lips again.
He wonders if the other man notices, but there’s something about that single green eye that seems to indicate yes that some how he’s utterly transparent to this man. It makes Jason shift, uncomfortably, but then the other man is pushing forward, and then-
The taste is so much stronger now, now that those pale lips are on his, and Jason lets out a thick moan, and parts his own under the pressure of the other man. He’s about to fight, to claw and growl, to ask for the same treatment, to ask for more, but then there’s a thick hand petting at his hair, and its so fucking gentle that Jason wants to cry, wants to tell him that no, no he doesn’t want that, can’t have that.
But he doesn’t get the chance because that warm mouth is still gentle on his but implacable, not letting him run away, not letting him shrink away from the affection. Or rage against it.
The hand is still on his hair, still petting and there’s nothing else expected of him. No desperate hands to strip the clothes from his body, nothing demanding. Just giving, just offering.
And this one time, this one time Jason guess he could let himself take this gift.
He kisses him back, his own hand tentatively going up to stroke at pale skin and he feels lips smile against his.
It’s a start.
Warnings: meh, nothing big. Just kisses. And an attempt to write the sexiest second hand smoke breathing ever. >>
The smoke isn’t one that Jason’s familiar with, but he can smell it, taste it even as it curls in a thin silver stream from the other man’s lips. It’s a flash of odd intimacy, and Jason breathes in deeply, greedily hoarding it, letting more of that diffuse silver cloud flow into him, sliding over his tongue and down his throat.
The taste and scent are thick and herbal, lingering in his mouth, and when he licks his lips, he thinks he can taste it on his tongue, a faint residue that he greedily hoards, licking at his lips again.
He wonders if the other man notices, but there’s something about that single green eye that seems to indicate yes that some how he’s utterly transparent to this man. It makes Jason shift, uncomfortably, but then the other man is pushing forward, and then-
The taste is so much stronger now, now that those pale lips are on his, and Jason lets out a thick moan, and parts his own under the pressure of the other man. He’s about to fight, to claw and growl, to ask for the same treatment, to ask for more, but then there’s a thick hand petting at his hair, and its so fucking gentle that Jason wants to cry, wants to tell him that no, no he doesn’t want that, can’t have that.
But he doesn’t get the chance because that warm mouth is still gentle on his but implacable, not letting him run away, not letting him shrink away from the affection. Or rage against it.
The hand is still on his hair, still petting and there’s nothing else expected of him. No desperate hands to strip the clothes from his body, nothing demanding. Just giving, just offering.
And this one time, this one time Jason guess he could let himself take this gift.
He kisses him back, his own hand tentatively going up to stroke at pale skin and he feels lips smile against his.
It’s a start.