(Untitled)

[tin_hearts]

The mattress lands in the bed frame with the most satisfying thwump Wyatt's heard in several annuals. He brushes his hands on the front of his pants with a proud little grin and looks at his partner in crime.

"All in a day's work."

((OOC: Dirty, dirty stuff in the comments. Heading into NSFW territory, here.))

Comments

[smecker]

"And you getting ideas is a problem why?" Paul smirks. "It's fine by me if you get ideas. As long as you share them."

He helps with Wyatt's trousers, though-- hooks his fingers into the waistband and yanks, till they're down around his ankles. Paul straddles Wyatt's thighs, starts making quick work of his own shirt buttons while looking down at him with a lopsided grin.

"I'll tell you my ideas if you tell me yours..."

[tin_hearts]

"You know you're making my life damn difficult now, don't you?" He grins, toeing his pants the rest of the way off his feet and off the bed. A stifled little flutter of sound escapes his mouth when he gets his wish partway.

"Because I get flustered as all get out, while you can say the dirtiest things and not so much as blink."

[smecker]

"Practice makes perfect, Wyatt," Paul answers primly. And as if to punctuate that, he lifts his wrist to his own mouth-- starts undoing the button with only teeth and tongue, his eyes locked with Wyatt's blue ones as he does so, wicked amusement dancing in their depths.

His other hand amuses itself by trailing a path over the other man's now-exposed chest, fingertips brushing light and teasing through his ash-blond hairs.

[tin_hearts]

Wyatt swallows through the sudden dryness of his throat. He needs a drink, or one of those humidifier things you plug in and stick in a corner of the room. Paul's just such a damn tease, and it's not always easy being on the receiving end of it.

The flash of teeth, flick of tongue, and the pale blue eyes watching him hungrily--

He tries clearing his throat, but all that comes out is a soft grunt. "I-- It's nothing too elaborate," he stalls and knows full well how obvious he is about it. He never did have much of a poker face outside of work. Not when it's personal.

"Mostly just legs in the air and-- Just sex."

[smecker]

"That's a good start," Paul answers dryly. "But whose legs in the air? Inquiring minds want to know..."

He pops the button loose-- switches hands. His freed hand comes down to stroke lightly at the taut, quivering skin of Wyatt's belly, right around his navel.

"For the record I'd proooobably wrap mine around your waist."

[tin_hearts]

"I don't really care," Wyatt grins, running blunt nails over the other man's sides through the fabric of his very expensive shirt. "That's just the thing."

He stretches into the touches, knowing full well the kind of attention it'll draw, but two can play a game of teasing - Wyatt's just not quite so blatant about it.

"I'd like it either way."

[smecker]

"Either way and twice on Sundays?" Paul asks in a half-sing-song voice, grinning back. He finishes with the buttons on his sleeves, while his hand does, yes, stroke appreciatively at Wyatt's responsive body. Then he puts his hands to the mattress, one on either side of Wyatt's head, and leans in and down to kiss him.

"Do something useful with your hands and get my shirt off me," he whispers before putting a temporary halt to talking.

[tin_hearts]

"Any day."

Running his hands up, dragging soft fabric with him in handfuls - the skin of his forearms brushing over the smooth skin of Paul's back and damn if it doesn't tickle in the best of ways. Then reaching a bit higher to brush the shirt off Paul's shoulders. Just the arms left, but he's distracted by the slow rhythm of the kind of kisses that you feel all the way down to your toes. "Arms," he murmurs between the nth kiss and the next, and the moment Paul lifts them, Wyatt will do a bit of flipping over of his own. Can't blame him for more than liking the idea of the other man's legs around his waist.