Wish #13 for katej by a_shadow_there
Request 1:
Pairing/Character(s): BK
Keyword/Prompt Phrase: No dialogue.
Canon/AU/Either: Either
Special Requests: A fic that's entirely a sex scene, beginning to end. No dialogue between them (inner dialogue is okay)... just explicitly detailing a moment of them having sex. Can be either character. The more descriptive of what they're doing to each other, the better.
Story/Art/Either: Story
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rimming, frottage
Tender is the Night
He feels it: the shift in the room. The air, thin and stale, changes. The pod is heady with Chris'
scent. Soap and sweat and the faint, aromatic spark of cotton clinging to his skin. Toby breathes
deeply, and closes his eyes.
His mattress sinks beneath Chris' weight.
Toby feels it. Hands, their strength, pressed broad and flat against the small of his back; splayed
fingers meeting across flesh. Chris' palms warm against Toby's skin.
Wordlessly, Chris runs his hands over the dip and rise of Toby's back and buttocks, tugging Toby's
shorts down as he does so, admitting a rush of cool air that sends shivers down Toby's spine.
Trembling and electric; and with his face pressed against his pillow, Toby opens his mouth as if to
gasp, or to speak, but he doesn't: against the stiff, cold fabric his tongue feels dull and fat, and the
anticipatory breath sticks in his throat.
Having worked Toby's shorts down over his hips and thighs, Chris moves (Toby can feel it; he can
feel it), inching along the bed. Sliding his hands up over Toby's thighs once more, Chris spreads his
fingers across Toby's cheeks, positioning his thumbs one on each side of the crevice. Softly, slowly,
he eases Toby open; exposing him.
Softly, slowly.
It is this - this - that never ceases to surprise Toby (softly, slowly), the tenderness of it; the
tenderness of the movement, the moment, that no-one sees; that not even Toby sees
in the dark of night, but that he feels.
He feels it: and at the silent, tempered insistence of Chris' hands, Toby writhes; he wriggles beneath
him, pushing back into Chris' palms; expectant.
A moment later, Toby's expectations are met as the wet heat of Chris' tongue meets with Toby's
asshole. Flicking, probing, it draws a muffled whimper from Toby's lips; it sends the blood
coursing, rollicking through his veins, before pooling between his legs; his cock throbbing
against the sheets.
Still clutching his pillow with one hand, Toby raises his stomach from the bed and, with his free
hand, reaches for his cock. Taking it firmly in hand, Toby loops his fingers around the bulbous
head; thrusting into his fist and against Chris' tongue in a slow, sporadic rhythm, each filling their
spartan surrounds with stilted breaths and beatific moans.
Toby is on the precipice of climax when the pleasing heat of Chris' tongue abandons him, and
shuddering and wide-eyed he searches for the source of the disturbance; an explanation of the
sudden absence. As he turns to glance over his shoulder, Chris reaches again for Toby, his hands
swiftly guiding to roll him onto his back.
Repositioning himself between Toby's legs, Chris rolls his pants down over his own hips, freeing
his cock. Looming above Toby, he spits into his hand and runs it along the shaft, before slipping it
in the hollow between Toby's groin and his inner thigh. With a deep sigh, Chris arches his back and
rocks into the space the space and Toby, in turn, grasps at Chris; his fingers seeking purchase with
quiet desperation; aching to feel the pulsing heat of Chris' cock against his own.
Taking Toby's meaning, Chris nods his head and shifting swiftly so that his hard-on is in line with
Toby's, he takes both their cocks in his strong, square hands; slick with sweat and saliva, and tugs
as he and Toby pump, with increasingly frantic motions and speeding, unsteady breaths, against one
another.
His fingers scrambling, Toby clasps his hand to the back of Chris' taut neck and pulling him to, tries
to cry out, but his exultant cries of release are stifled by the fierce crush of Chris' lips against his;
swallowed, whole, in the darkness of the night; consumed by the tenderness of Chris' touch.
END
Pairing/Character(s): BK
Keyword/Prompt Phrase: No dialogue.
Canon/AU/Either: Either
Special Requests: A fic that's entirely a sex scene, beginning to end. No dialogue between them (inner dialogue is okay)... just explicitly detailing a moment of them having sex. Can be either character. The more descriptive of what they're doing to each other, the better.
Story/Art/Either: Story
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rimming, frottage
Tender is the Night
He feels it: the shift in the room. The air, thin and stale, changes. The pod is heady with Chris'
scent. Soap and sweat and the faint, aromatic spark of cotton clinging to his skin. Toby breathes
deeply, and closes his eyes.
His mattress sinks beneath Chris' weight.
Toby feels it. Hands, their strength, pressed broad and flat against the small of his back; splayed
fingers meeting across flesh. Chris' palms warm against Toby's skin.
Wordlessly, Chris runs his hands over the dip and rise of Toby's back and buttocks, tugging Toby's
shorts down as he does so, admitting a rush of cool air that sends shivers down Toby's spine.
Trembling and electric; and with his face pressed against his pillow, Toby opens his mouth as if to
gasp, or to speak, but he doesn't: against the stiff, cold fabric his tongue feels dull and fat, and the
anticipatory breath sticks in his throat.
Having worked Toby's shorts down over his hips and thighs, Chris moves (Toby can feel it; he can
feel it), inching along the bed. Sliding his hands up over Toby's thighs once more, Chris spreads his
fingers across Toby's cheeks, positioning his thumbs one on each side of the crevice. Softly, slowly,
he eases Toby open; exposing him.
Softly, slowly.
It is this - this - that never ceases to surprise Toby (softly, slowly), the tenderness of it; the
tenderness of the movement, the moment, that no-one sees; that not even Toby sees
in the dark of night, but that he feels.
He feels it: and at the silent, tempered insistence of Chris' hands, Toby writhes; he wriggles beneath
him, pushing back into Chris' palms; expectant.
A moment later, Toby's expectations are met as the wet heat of Chris' tongue meets with Toby's
asshole. Flicking, probing, it draws a muffled whimper from Toby's lips; it sends the blood
coursing, rollicking through his veins, before pooling between his legs; his cock throbbing
against the sheets.
Still clutching his pillow with one hand, Toby raises his stomach from the bed and, with his free
hand, reaches for his cock. Taking it firmly in hand, Toby loops his fingers around the bulbous
head; thrusting into his fist and against Chris' tongue in a slow, sporadic rhythm, each filling their
spartan surrounds with stilted breaths and beatific moans.
Toby is on the precipice of climax when the pleasing heat of Chris' tongue abandons him, and
shuddering and wide-eyed he searches for the source of the disturbance; an explanation of the
sudden absence. As he turns to glance over his shoulder, Chris reaches again for Toby, his hands
swiftly guiding to roll him onto his back.
Repositioning himself between Toby's legs, Chris rolls his pants down over his own hips, freeing
his cock. Looming above Toby, he spits into his hand and runs it along the shaft, before slipping it
in the hollow between Toby's groin and his inner thigh. With a deep sigh, Chris arches his back and
rocks into the space the space and Toby, in turn, grasps at Chris; his fingers seeking purchase with
quiet desperation; aching to feel the pulsing heat of Chris' cock against his own.
Taking Toby's meaning, Chris nods his head and shifting swiftly so that his hard-on is in line with
Toby's, he takes both their cocks in his strong, square hands; slick with sweat and saliva, and tugs
as he and Toby pump, with increasingly frantic motions and speeding, unsteady breaths, against one
another.
His fingers scrambling, Toby clasps his hand to the back of Chris' taut neck and pulling him to, tries
to cry out, but his exultant cries of release are stifled by the fierce crush of Chris' lips against his;
swallowed, whole, in the darkness of the night; consumed by the tenderness of Chris' touch.
END