671. There Are Different Types of Love....
(Taken shamelessly from mememaker's 126. I can love you in so many different ways. Because I looooove mememaker and this was one of my favorite memes.)
This meme deals with three types of love, angsty, sweet, and twisted! Please note that there are triggers abound!
- Post your characters and include preferences (if any!)
- Others reply.
- Go to RNG and enter numbers 1-3 ( Read more... )
This meme deals with three types of love, angsty, sweet, and twisted! Please note that there are triggers abound!
- Post your characters and include preferences (if any!)
- Others reply.
- Go to RNG and enter numbers 1-3 ( Read more... )
[It's said with a smile, with a quirk of his lips and a slow drag of his hand as there's more pressure now starting to massage into his hip. Sterling's body shifting closer so their bodies press together at their sides in a way that is at least a slight temper to the heat that skips along his skin. Cass isn't telling him to stop, not that he'd really expected he would. He almost wishes he would, however.
It would be easier. Desire would shift into indignity and anger, and he'd pull away and find a way to shove things back into the way that he liked them, because this was Sterling, and that was what he did. Instead, he's watching Cass, tongue sliding to wet slightly parted lips as he watches the way Cass' finger strokes against the rim of the glass. Sterling finishes his own and sets it down, doesn't bother going for a refill when he doesn't really want it. Instead, he watches Cass like he's evaluating, gauging, always plotting, now-free fingers brushing against his shirt.
Nothing about liking Cass was easy. James Sterling wasn't a man that had ever been attracted to easy.]
Reply
[His lips part at the added pressure and he really should stop this, because--
Because why? He can't think of a compelling enough reason, really, not with the way the touching feels so good against his still-charged skin, even through the rough denim. Not that he hadn't felt good before, but it hadn't been enough, it's never enough; touch is an addiction just like any other, his body seemingly as dependent on it as it is on the drugs he's so sorely lacking right now.
No, he's not about to turn down the only high that's really available to him at the moment aside from the broken joint in his pocket. His eyes slit open and he leans into the fingers brushing over his shirt just slightly, bending to drop his half-finished drink onto the table.
Reply
Unable to resist that urge to touch, he settles for simply trying to make sure this doesn't get out of hand. If it had been a different life, he might have thought about going to far, but that's a concept that doesn't really seem to exist any longer. His hand against his chest slowly traces up, over a shoulder, fingers trying to slip behind him to trace over that gorgeous line of his spine.
A low hum ghosts on his lips, grey eyes watching blue with intensity. There's heat in Sterling's eyes, warmth, something that might actually be honest for a breath or two.]
Reply
There's something new in Sterling's gaze, something heated and interesting that Cas can't quite place. Humming quietly, he lets his hand splay, fingers creeping up Sterling's inner thigh slowly. He's half-hard again, already in that dizzy pleasure-driven place, and as he derives just as much pleasure from touching as he does from being touched, it seems like the only logical thing to do. He likes the way the expensive fabric of his dress pants feels under his fingers, even if they are totally non-functional and only serve as a barrier between him and the rest of the camp; it's soft and warmed by skin.]
Reply
His breath catches as the other man's hand splays against his leg, slowly slipping up his thigh. Grey eyes watching blues as his other hand traces against his collarbone, dips into the hollow of his throat. Touching, and it's almost platonic, despite the shiver of want in his hands. Shifting closer, a smile curving his lips as he presses into how he feels under his fingertips.]
Reply
If there's one thing that Cas excels least at, it's lines, where they are, how to avoid crossing them. He hadn't concerned himself with them much when he'd been an angel and he typically outright ignores them now. His hand continue to move, fingers tightening, squeezing gently at the join between hip and leg. He doesn't move any closer though, fingertips just shy of taking this any further.]
Reply
Instead, those fingers are slipping up to the tip of Cas' chin, keeping his head tipped back as he leans in, pressing lips against the other man's throat. It's not a kiss, more a drag of lips that scrapes against that stubble. His mouth drags down, a soft nip of teeth and lips against the hollow of his throat, a hum of quiet pleasure, trying to not move too hot or too fast, keep it here... where ever exactly that might be.]
Reply
Sterling's mouth slips lower, tracing the path his fingers had been moving over and he moans, a low vibration against Sterling's lips. It's a slow-burning kind of pleasure, one that he rarely indulges in just because quicker is easier, and he's more than willing to enjoy it while he can.]
Reply
His fingers tugging that shirt up to expose the other man's stomach, because he wants to feel skin, and somehow that idea doesn't seem as dangerous as it probably should. A hot moan muffled into skin as his fingers trace over his ribs, like he's mapping out Cas' body with his hands -- he is.]
Reply
He's a bit distracted by that to notice Sterling's hand pushing his shirt up to palm over his stomach and ribs; he definitely feels that moan against his neck, though, and he arches his back into the press of fingers against his skin. His fingers curl loosely in Sterling's hair and he gives a gentle tug, testing, trying to work out what makes the other man tick. Strictly for curiosity's sake, of course...]
Reply
His hands sliding over the flat expanse of Cas' stomach, dragging up his sides, and then teasing against the man's nipples. Sterling's hands are rougher than most would expect; worn in a way that betrays that even before the Apocalypse, he wasn't the sort afraid to get his hands dirty. His nails are short, but he scrapes them down along Cas' skin with a smile and a low murmur of enjoyment. He's always liked touching, and there's something about touching Cas that's even hotter. Even if Sterling hadn't been hard in his suit pants before, he certainly is now.]
Reply
He wonders how far he can push this, what he'd have to do to make the other man stop... Not because he wants to, but because he wants to know what to avoid. This feels like a game, and he doesn't know the rules. His breath hitches as nails scrape down his sides and he mirrors the movement across Sterling's scalp, down the side of his neck and into the collar of his shirt, presses against the muscle.]
Reply
It's the kind of game that Sterling has always played, figuring out the rules and limits with actions instead of words. Sterling's breath stutters in kind as nails scrape against his scalp, making him tilt into fingers as he soothes teeth with soft whispers of lips. A low murmur of enjoyment as fingers move down his neck and into his shirt, touching bare skin.]
Reply
He's painfully hard now, aching for some kind of touch, some kind of friction; he avoids sliding his hand over the front of his denims to take some of the pressure off but it's a close thing. Instead he reaches across his chest to curl fingers in Sterling's shirt and pull him closer, not completely on top of him but as close to it as he can manage.]
Reply
He gasps, lips coming away from skin briefly as Cas grabs his shirt, pulling him closer, and Sterling presses their bodies fully together. It makes it impossible to hide the fact that he's every bit as hard as Cas is. It's distractingly difficult to resist the urge to roll his hips, to try and get some friction, take away from of that ache. But, Sterling still has his self-control, and that's courting a direction he's trying to keep this from.
He kisses him instead.]
Reply
His lips part in a soft moan as their bodies press together, and he has to fight the urge to slip hands around to Sterling's back, tug him where he wants him and rock his hips up and into some kind of friction. He doesn't, though, more than willing to see how long he can stretch this out when it feels so good. He isn't entirely surprised when Sterling lifts his head and catches his lips in a kiss, but it's not exactly what he'd expected; there's a startled hum before he relaxes into it, hands moving to rest at Sterling's waist.]
Reply
Leave a comment