Sina Libbu Ziana (Part 4b)
Title: Sina Libbu Ziana (Two Hearts Beating)
Rating: NC-17
Part: 4b/7
Three hours later Will has come to a standstill in the middle of an aisle at the South Cable Road, Rays Supermarket chain. A frustrated, overweight mother is trying to deal with the tantrum her red-faced toddler is having at the other end of the aisle while a bored looking employee stocks the shelf opposite and watches the display sympathetically, but obviously with no intention of intervening.
It's been three hours since he sent Finn home and he'd really been doing a spectacular job of not thinking about that; but here he is in the middle of the supermarket, with his half-full cart beside him and his gaze fixed on one particular item on the shelf that's just bringing everything flooding back.
“Hey, buddy.” He glances up at the sound. A beefy man in a wifebeater and sandals is leaning heavily on his own cart, looking pointedly at Will's unattended groceries; which he is having trouble negotiating past. “You wanna move it?” The man suggests, pushing a trickle of sweat from his brow up onto the crown of his head and displacing his comb-over.
“Oh sorry,” Will grips the handle of his cart and pulls it close to the edge of the aisle, making enough room for the man to advance and get blocked by the tantrum-throwing toddler instead.
Will turns back to his deliberation, reaching out to pluck a jar from the shelf and contemplate it idly. He finally makes a decision, digging his cellphone out of his pocket and scrolling swiftly through the numbers in his address book before he loses his nerve.
“Hello?” The voice at the other end answers hesitantly.
His breath catches and he almost hangs up; he licks his dry lips and chokes out, “W-which peanut butter do you prefer?”
*
When he arrives back at the apartment building and parks in the underground garage, Will gets out of the car and circles round to the trunk to collect his groceries but pauses with the key in the lock. There's a strange sensation running through him, unfamiliar but similar to the paranoid feeling of seeing something out of the corner of his eye. He steps away from the car, walks across to the stairwell and jogs up the steps to the entry hall. Outside, Finn is just walking up the pathway and so he unlocks the main door to let the young man in.
“Hey,” Finn smiles shyly at him. “How did you- I mean, have you been hanging out here just waiting for me?”
“No, I-” Will hesitates, worrying his lower lip as he considers the honest answer, “I could feel you.”
Finn blinks, bewildered, “Feel me?”
“Our Duranki,” Will explains, “The more time we spend together, the stronger it'll get.” He makes a mental tally and concludes that they've had sex at least half a dozen times, so it's only natural for their connection to have strengthened to the point where physical contact isn't necessary for their Shi to interact... He tries not to think about how he and Terri never reached that point, tries not to consider the implications or leap to any wild conclusions.
“That's a good thing, right?” Finn asks, wary of the serious expression he can see etched on Will's face.
“It's complicated, but- Yes, yes it's a good thing,” Will answers decisively, burying his thoughts under an easy smile.
“So, I mean... Is it like, you can't stay away?” Finn asks, concerned. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his khakis, rocking back on his heels and looking uncomfortable.
“Not like that,” Will assures, sensing Finn's worries. “I just- When I saw the peanut butter on the shelf, I wanted to see you.” The tension eases from Finn's expression and he smiles, the first genuine grin Will has seen out of him since breakfast. Will nods towards the stairwell, “Come on, you can help me with the groceries.”
“Oh, so that's why you invited me over,” Finn teases, falling into step behind him readily.
Will pauses at the top of the stairs, letting the young man step in front so that he can slap his khaki-clad behind affectionately, “You know it.”
They carry the bags up to the apartment, taking the stairs, keeping a steady pace and not saying a word; a noticeable contrast to Saturday morning. Will shuffles the bags in his arms when they arrive at his door, digging his keys out of his jacket pocket to let them in. Finn sets his bags down and strolls purposefully through to the bedroom, leaving Will to close the front door, hang up his jacket and carry the groceries through to the kitchen to be packed away.
Will is happy to have Finn back in his home and certain parts of his anatomy are keen to follow him through to the bedroom, but he also has reservations. He restocks the freezer with beef steak, chicken breast and häagen-dazs; puts an under-ripe pineapple down with the brown-flecked bananas in the fruit bowl; drops carrots, cucumber and tomatoes into the crisper; slides a half-gallon carton of milk and a fresh block of Wisconsin cheddar into the door of the fridge; fills the pantry shelves with dry and tinned produce; and throughout every moment of it, he is internally debating whether opening himself up to Finn again would just be a relapse that's going to hurt him more in the long run.
When he steps through to the bedroom he still hasn't made up his mind, but he finds Finn sprawled out on the bed, buck-naked and jacking his stiff cock slowly. Finn lifts his head, a light flush across his cheeks as he bites his lip and says, “I was waiting for you.”
The protesting voice inside of Will dies away with a whimper and he reaches down, tugging his t-shirt up out of his waistband to pull it off over his head along with his sweater. He watches the tip of Finn's tongue peek out to glide over his lips, notices the renewed movement of the young man's fingers on his dick as dark brown eyes travel up and down the expanse of his bared upper body. He stands on the heel of his sneakers to step out of them one-by-one, then leans on the bed to peel his socks off; the mattress dips as Finn scoots closer and nuzzles the crook of Will's elbow, following the smooth skin up as he licks a trail over his bicep.
Will sets his bare foot to the ground, then runs his fingers through Finn's hair, holding him close. Finn moves sideways, kissing across a pectoral and rubbing the flat of his tongue over a dusky nipple; Will stutters out a shaky breath as the flesh rises into a pebbled peak, then cries out as Finn grazes his teeth along it. Finn glances up sharply at the sound, then soothes the sting with the little flicks of his tongue, his dark eyes still looking up to watch the reaction to his ministrations present on Will's face. Will steadies himself on Finn's shoulder and lifts his leg up behind him, reaching down to pull the remaining sock from his foot. He puts both bare feet to the carpet, pushing Finn back gently and the young man obligingly abandons his efforts in favor of sitting back and watching the bulge in Will's jeans expectantly.
Will cups the lump in his pants, letting his eyes flutter shut as a pleased hum vibrates in his throat. He draws the moment out, dragging the zipper down in a dilatory fashion and letting the tent in his underwear peek out through the fly, utterly delighting in being a pricktease and feeling each incremental rise of Finn's Ni. Finn groans in frustration at the sight of his coy smile and reaches forward to stick his hands down the back of Will's pants, grabbing needy handfuls of his ass and using the position to push the jeans down to his thighs. Will quashes the chuckle rising in his throat and stands on the cuffs of his jeans so that he can step out of them, one pantleg turns inside out as his ankle slides free but he kicks the puddle of fabric aside without fixing it.
Finn resumes his oral assault on Will's chest, while his fingers trail along the defined lines traveling down from Will's hipbones into the front of his briefs. Will is content to dig his fingers into Finn's hair and let him explore, but as the kisses move down past his ribs and onto his stomach he becomes leery of the direction things appear to be turning.
“Finn?” He moves a hand to stroke his thumb inquisitively over the soft skin behind Finn's ear, as a tongue delves into his navel and he can feel the teenager's chin resting on the bulge in his briefs.
“Hm?” Finn licks an ardent stroke up between his abdominal muscles, then ducks lower and runs his cheek against the taut cotton stretched over Will's erection. Will shivers at the faint touch, the image of Finn's lips sliding down his swollen shaft popping up in his mind and making him desperate for contact. Finn sits up and pulls back the elastic of his waistband, delving nimble fingers inside to wrap around his hardened length; Will groans shamelessly. “It's weird,” Finn says, adjusting his grip and making a few short strokes as he slides the briefs down to Will's knees with his other hand, “It's different, but it feels the same as when I'm jerking off. It feels right.” He punctuates the sentence with a squeeze.
Will leans close to kiss him, sucking and biting at Finn's bottom lip as he pushes his underwear the rest of the way down his legs. Finn's hand doesn't stray from Will's erection, he strokes gently to coax back the foreskin and rubs his thumb over the sensitive membrane underneath, close to the ridge of the glans; his fingers are pressed to the thick vein running along the underside and so he can feel the older man's accelerated pulse. Will hisses and leans into the touch, bending down to drop a kiss on Finn's plump, abused lower lip.
“Damn, you're good at this,” He mumbles, moving to bite at Finn's collarbone, making sure to be gentle so that he won't leave any marks that might attract attention at school tomorrow.
“It's just like jerking off,” Finn repeats, tilting his head to give him better access to his neck and throat.
“And I suppose you're good at that too,” Will says, his voice a low rumble.
“I've had a lot of practice,” Finn agrees, changing his grip so that the head of Will's cock is rubbing over his palm.
Will groans and takes a step back, his erection sliding out of Finn's lax grip; he puts his hands on Finn's shoulders and pushes him onto his back on the bed, climbing up and kneeling next to his prone form, “Show me.”
Finn blinks, “You want me to-?”
“Touch yourself for me,” Will instructs, leaning down to purr the words into Finn's ear. “You got yourself all nice and hard while you were waiting for me, I want to see it.”
Finn's dark brown eyes watch him warily for a few seconds, then his right hand snakes down and gets a firm grip on his shaft; there's no hesitance in his first stroke, he sets to the task with a devotion that all young men pay to their dick when they're still the only person touching it with any real regularity. “You like it like that?” Will's breath is still hot and damp in Finn's ear, but his gaze is fixed on the rhythmic slide of the younger man's hand. “You like it hard and dirty, you naughty little wanker.”
Finn chokes out a laugh at the English term, turning his head to look up at him, “Sometimes I go slower, try to draw it out y'know; but ever since Thursday, I picture your mouth on my dick and I just have to...” He trails off, the sounds rising from the slide of his hand on his erection speaking for themselves. The movement slows after a few long strokes and he grips the base of his dick, his brow furrowing as he mumbles something under his breath that Will doesn't quite catch but sounds a bit like 'Rain man'. He hesitantly unfurls his fingers, his length twitching a little and then falling back against his belly, his pheromones fading back down from melting point. He catches Will's eye again, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Will returns calmly.
Finn drops his eyes to the slackening length at Will's crotch, he licks his lips and Will feels a pulse of blood bring his prick back to full size; his mind taking the fantasy that Finn had just admitted to and swapping their roles in the exchange.
“You're a guy, right?” Finn says, “So you must jerk off sometimes.”
A whole lot more since his divorce was finalized, but he's not gonna own up to that one, “Well, yeah.”
“So, come on; show me,” Finn requests, turning onto his side to face him.
Will runs his eyes along from Finn's expectant expression to the tuft of dark hair peeking out from under his armpit; follows down the line of his pectorals to compare it to the scant wiry hairs around his nipples that are going to lead the spread of chest hair that will develop sometime over the next decade; pans along to the softly-defined abdominal muscles standing out over a pudgy, insulating layer of youthful puppy fat; and finally rests his gaze on the thick cock, rising out of a bushy patch of black curls, and laying along the length of his thigh like a sleeping jungle cat.
His left hand has moved to his rigid prick of its own accord and he turns onto his side too, reaching out to run his other hand along Finn's chest as he teases out precome and smears it over his glans with his thumb; every inch of Finn's Etlutu body is appealing to Will on a deep, instinctual level that he can't argue or reason with. He makes stilted strokes along the upper part of his cock, keeping the head cupped in his palm at all times, and explores the source of his desire with hungry eyes and searching fingertips. He likes the strength he can sense in Finn's sturdy muscles, but likes the tiny imperfections he uncovers: the thin, faded scar on his forearm, the spattering of acne along his legs; just as much.
“Fuck, Will.” Finn shivers as Will's fingertips come up to trace along his parted lips. He takes hold of his own cock again and quirks an eyebrow at his partner, “Race ya?” He suggests playfully.
Will hums and lets go of himself, reaching out to put his hand over Finn's, “If you want to challenge me, surely we should be testing our skills on each other.” Finn nods considerately and lets go, allowing Will to take a firmer grip on him as he reaches over to take hold of Will's erection. “Hm, you're going down,” Will remarks confidently.
“Would you like that?” Finn replies archly, “I bet you'd love to have my mouth all wet and hot on your dick.” He lick his lips pointedly.
Will whimpers and his prick lets out a burst of slick precome, maybe he'd overestimated his chances of winning this contest because he feels a whole lot closer to the edge after that comment; but that doesn't mean he can't fight back.
“I'd like that a lot,” He agrees, “But it would be even better to have you kneeling over my face so that I could lean up and blow you while you were sucking me.” Pheromones pour off of Finn and his hand speeds up on Will's dick in an attempt to bring him off before his own approaching orgasm. “Just thinking about it...” He pauses to hum sinfully, the pleased sound vibrating in his throat. Finn starts mumbling under his breath again, his eyes squeezed shut, his diaphragm convulsing to accommodate his rapid breaths. “Your lips sliding up and down me, driving me mad, while I pull your cock into my throat and swallow until you're screaming round my prick-” Finn gives a vocal demonstration as he shoots his load over Will's fingers.
“Hm, that was eas-Oh!” Will's gloating remark is choked off as Finn, rather than falling into a post-coital slouch, takes up jerking his prick with renewed vigor.
“Don't be smug,” Finn warns, eyes ablaze with determination. “You wouldn't be far behind me.” His words are uncannily true as Will finds himself spilling his load over Finn's hand almost the instant he's finished speaking. Finn lets Will's receding dick go and turns onto his back, “Fuck; we should have really done that, not just talked about it.”
Will chuckles and falls forward, cuddling closer to Finn, “I'll be honest and say that I was making it sound sexier than it really is. It all sounds good, but there's neck strain and the angle makes it hard to give a blowjob properly and there's a really high chance that the person on top will fart and ruin the mood.”
“Okay, gross.” Finn wrinkles his nose, “There go my jerkoff plans for the night.”
Will snorts and buries his face in Finn's flushed, slick skin.
There's a comfortable period of silence as they lie together and recover their normal breathing rate, then Will lifts his head hesitantly. He can't quite meet Finn's eye and his voice is raw, his emotions open, “Finn, I... I'm glad you came.”
“I'm glad you came too,” Finn replies, lifting his hand and leering at the ejaculate staining it; he sticks his tongue out to lick his fingers clean and the effect is partly ruined by his expression of distaste, “Nope, that's still really nasty.”
Will feels the uncertainty in him die down as he watches Finn's abashed grin, feels a sense of genuine comfort wash through him at the way Finn disarmed his charged emotions with humor before he made an idiot out of himself. He cups his palm against Finn's cheek affectionately, “Poor darling,” He replies in mock-sympathy, then kisses him gently.
Finn hums into the kiss, brushing the tip of his tongue along Will's bottom lip and he smiles when they break apart, “You got something to take the taste away?” He quirks an eyebrow as he says it.
Will doesn't miss the hint and while licking his lingering essence out of Finn's mouth sounds like a delightful way to spend the next ten minutes, he has a better idea. “Sure,” He answers, sliding off the bed.
“Will, where are you-?”
“I'll be back in a second,” He calls over his shoulder, crossing through to the bathroom. He turns the faucet and washes his hand clean under a stream of warm water, then soaks a washcloth and wrings it out until it is merely damp. “Heads up,” He pokes his head round the doorjamb and tosses the cloth, smiling in spite of himself when he hears the wet slap of the cloth landing and Finn's disgruntled cry at the impact.
Will returns a moment later and finds Finn wiping the remaining spunk from his fingers, a patch of bright pink standing out on his stomach from where the cloth made its landing. Finn glares for a moment when he notices Will but it smooths out immediately when he spots what he's carrying.
“Nabisco grahams, Hershey's, Skippy,” Will lists each item as he sets them down on the mattress, then hops up onto the bed and scoots close to the younger man.
“You are so many different kinds of awesome,” Finn says reverently, picking up the jar of peanut butter and unscrewing the lid.
“So you keep telling me,” Will answers modestly, tearing along the flap of the crackers box.
“I mean it,” Finn insists, pausing with the lid of the jar off. “You should like, get a medal or something. I, I should- Do you want a back-rub?”
Will blinks bemusedly and sets the cracker box down, “A back-rub?”
“Or like, a foot massage,” Finn suggests. “There's gotta be something I can do to repay how cool you're being.”
Stay. It isn't so much a thought as a burning need running through the very core of Will's being and he catches it and buries it deep before it can stray along the Duranki, because it scares the hell out of him. He looks at the young man sitting opposite him on the bed, completely nude but unashamed to be bare in front of him; smiling like a goofball, but with sincere affection in his gaze. All he wants is for this to never end, wants to ask Finn to make something real out of this; the consequences, and anyone who might disapprove, be damned!
...And he knows that if he were to ask Finn right now, he would pledge himself devotedly and he would mean every word; so Will pushes down the urge, because Finn can't be expected to keep any promise he makes, he's almost blindingly optimistic but he's also young and ignorant of how cruel the world can really be.
“Just having you here is enough,” Will answers, taking Finn's hand and squeezing tightly, “You don't need to do anything more than that.”
Finn smiles shyly in reply, stroking his thumb across Will's knuckles and they sit in mutual silence for a long, comfortable moment.
Finn sticks his finger into the jar, scoops up a glob of peanut butter and pops it into his mouth; humming contentedly as he licks his finger clean, then slides it free with an audible pop.
“That's disgusting,” Will remarks levelly, recovering from the waver that had appeared in his voice. “What did you think the crackers were for?” He picks up the Nabisco box again and rattles it to complement his question.
Finn swallows thickly around the lump of peanut butter and grins broadly, “My way's more fun.” He scoops another finger's worth out of the jar.
“Great, so now the peanut butter has your saliva all over it,” Will remarks woefully.
Finn cocks an eyebrow, swallowing his second mouthful and gesturing accusingly at the older man, “You had your tongue up my butthole yesterday.”
Will feels warmth bloom across his cheeks and he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he considers the truth in that, “I see your point.”
“Here.” Finn runs his finger along Will's lips, smearing some of the peanut butter. Will parts his lips and accepts the offering; the tasty, creamy offering that always reminds him of being thirteen and discovering PB&J as just one of the thousands of little miracles during his first summer on Earth. He moans happily and suckles Finn's finger when it tries to pull back, he reaches up to hold the young man's hand in place and licks every lingering trace from the digit. “Fuck, you really like peanut butter,” Finn observes.
Will chuckles and lets the finger slide from between his lips, “Or maybe I just like it when you're feeding it to me,” He suggests.
Finn ducks his head shyly, not quite hiding the cheerful grin that is stretching out his cheeks. Will leans close to part Finn's rosy lips with his tongue and taste the traces of peanut butter in his mouth; he is full of the warmth of happy memories mixed with the comfort and safety he has come to feel in Finn's presence, his uncertainties for the future fading away as he basks in the glory of the present.
Will uses the distraction to ply the jar from Finn's grip and picks up the box of graham crackers again.
“Now then,” He remarks pointedly, sliding two crackers from the box and setting them aside. “I'll show you how to do this properly.” He dabs at the peanut butter and smears it thickly across one of the crackers, unable to resist the desire to lick his fingers clean afterward. Then he tears open the wrapper on the chocolate bar and breaks a few squares off; the chocolate is sandwiched between the peanut butter and crackers, then primly presented to Finn. “Try it,” He insists.
Finn, the stupid, gluttonous bastard, shoves the whole thing into his mouth in one go and has to chew it doggedly for close to two minutes before he is able to swallow it.
“You're supposed to take smaller bites,” Will remarks affectionately, rubbing Finn's back as he takes heavy breaths.
“D-drink,” Finn pants out, tongue lolling and thick with an orange smear.
Slapping him on the back one final time, Will climbs up from the bed and pads through to the kitchen to pour a glass of milk. “Here.” He holds the glass out as he returns, “Is semi-skimmed okay?”
“Anything's good right now,” Finn replies, voice thick from the peanut butter clogging his tongue. He gulps the milk down, then holds the empty glass out meekly.
“You're an idiot,” Will informs cordially, running a thumb along Finn's lips to collect stray droplets of milk from the corners of his mouth, then kisses him chastely before leaving to return the glass to the kitchen.
When he gets back, Finn is sprawled on the bed with the jar of peanut butter in one hand and his lips wrapped round two fingers of the other. He slides his slick fingers away and grins charmingly as Will slides down onto the mattress beside him again, “I still like my way better.”
“Fine,” Will surrenders and cuddles closer. “Just try not to stain the sheets.” He'd changed the sex-stained covers after Finn left that morning; while Terri's 15% staff discount means that the linen closet had been plentifully stocked during their marriage, and remains so currently, he isn't out to make more laundry for himself than the amount they've already accumulated.
“No problem,” Finn answers grandly. He scoops a glob onto his finger, then grins and holds it out to Will, “Guess who I am.”
“You're Finn,” He answers plainly, leaning in and gobbling up the peanut butter.
“No, c'mon; guess,” Finn insists. He collects another smear on the end of his index finger and holds it out, making a humming sound and twitching it about in the air. Will is starting to wonder whether maybe Finn is lactose intolerant and this is some kind of strange psychological symptom brought on by the milk he just chugged down, when Finn croaks out the words, “I'll be right here,” and presses his finger against Will's chest.
“That's not even funny,” Will declares flatly.
“Yes it is,” Finn returns, unfaltering. He leans down and licks the peanut butter stain from Will's skin, laving the area attentively to clear away any sticky substance clinging to his wiry chest hairs. “Hm,” He hums contentedly as he rises, “Fuck, that's good.” In an instant he has straddled Will's hips and is coating his fingers with peanut butter.
“Finn.” Will bucks up against him, more a token protest than a genuine attempt to dislodge him because he knows that the young quarterback has the height and weight advantage here.
“Sorry,” Finn replies, not sounding the least bit apologetic, as he leaves a trail along Will's neck and bends down to lick it clear. He hums his satisfaction again and sits back up, looking down with his lips soft, pink and slightly parted, “It tastes so damn good, I just want to put you in a sandwich.” There's a moment of awkward silence. “That, uh, sounded a lot less creepy in my head,” Finn comments abashedly. Will bites the inside of his cheek, but the amused snort bursts out anyway; Finn looks annoyed, then relieved at his reaction and returns to slathering Will with tasty trails for him to slurp up.
Tentatively aroused by the slide of Finn's moist tongue on his skin, Will decides to reciprocate and reaches out for the Hershey's bar lying forlornly on the bed beside them. The chocolate is already soft from the ambient heat of the room and as Will rubs a square between his thumb and forefinger a melted trail is left behind; when Finn next sits up, he reaches out and taps him on the nose.
“Hey!”
Will laughs as Finn goes cross-eyed trying to observe the chocolate stain on the tip of his nose and he leans up to lick it clear. “Two can play at this game, darling,” Will declares, smiling innocently and wiping a smear across Finn's cheek affectionately.
Finn growls playfully as Will lies back down from having licked his cheek clean and settles his weight over him, pressing down on Will's shoulders to keep him pinned to the mattress. “I play to win,” He says, stealing a kiss before he leans up to reclaim the jar of Skippy.
Will hums thoughtfully and then, before Finn has to a chance to assert his control again, he scrambles out from underneath him and to the other side of the bed. “Catch me if you can,” He challenges, eyes glistening with mischief.
They chase and dance around each other for a while, Finn making dynamic, if clumsy, commando rolls across the bed while Will skirts the edges of the room in swift bursts; they make fleeting contact with each other, leaving tiny smears of sticky foodstuff on their targets' skin but not enough to claim a victory. After about ten minutes of their game, Will's dodge is too slow and Finn gets an arm round his waist and tackles him to the bed, supporting his weight with a courtesy he wouldn't show on the field so as not to risk hurting him.
“I win,” Finn declares proudly, leaving a two-fingered trail of peanut butter along the line of Will's left pectoral. Will smiles mysteriously and unfurls his fingers from the block of chocolate that had entirely melted in his hand, reaching down to palm Finn's ass and leave a sticky handprint on his cheek. Finn lifts his head from lapping up the peanut butter and groans in defeat, letting his forehead fall to rest in the crook of Will's neck, “Fuck.”
Will smiles and runs the fingers of his clean hand through Finn's hair soothingly, “Sorry, but it looks like you lost.”
“Yeah well...” He sits up and a crooked grin graces his face, “Now you've got to lick it off.”
“Always a silver lining,” Will mumbles, amused.
The smooth, creamy skin of Finn's muscular backside is thrust up in the air for his attentions and Will takes a moment to admire his handiwork. Finn doesn't have obvious tanlines because they live in Ohio, not California, but high on his thighs the growth of hair begins to thin out and the skin goes a shade paler; the rich, chocolate brown stain stands out in brilliant contrast to the pink skin. The circle of his palm is depicted on the edge of Finn's left buttcheek, close to the skin of his thigh; the line of his thumb is directed up towards the hipbone; the four finger stains spread out across the curve of the cheek, the tip of his long middle finger stopping an inch shy of Finn's hairy crack.
“Are you just going to look at it?” Finn asks, looking over his shoulder and flexing the muscles of his ass enticingly, “Come on.” Will obediently lowers his lips to the heated flesh, sets the tip of his tongue to the short, thin line left behind by his pinky finger and follows it from the gap between it and the palm all the way to it's termination point. He follows the path with his tongue several times to collect any stubborn, lingering stain and Finn moans softly at the sensation, “Mmm, that's good.”
Will grins at the reaction and his teeth graze against skin, inspiring him to bite down gently. He can feel the pheromones rising from the warm body before him and the semi Finn is sporting between his legs hasn't escaped Will's attention.
“You like this, hm?” He observes, adjusting the grip of his clean hand to palm Finn's right asscheek as he turns his tongue to the thumbprint leading up to his hipbone.
“It's good,” Finn repeats, a contented hum.
Will runs his tongue up the curve of Finn's ass to lick clean the last three finger-shaped stripes of chocolate, letting the stains smear together into a single mess for his tongue to lap up rather than following each line with precision. Finn exhales deeply and the muscles of his ass quiver under Will's tongue, clearly enjoying the sloppy enthusiasm over the meticulous approach. The chocolate is sweet on Will's tongue, but the salty tang of Finn's sweat is taking the edge off and stopping the task from becoming sickly.
“Can you use peanut butter as lube?” Finn questions as Will moves on to the final hurdle of the large smear left by his palm.
“You can,” Will answers, pressing his lips to the patch of skin in the middle of the stain from where his palm didn't press down as firmly, suckling the light traces clean. “I wouldn't suggest it though, could be messy.”
“And I'm feeling shower-fresh right now,” Finn returns sarcastically.
Will chuckles and runs his swollen lips along the spit-slick skin of Finn's cheek agreeably, “There's lots of things you can use as lube if you have to, but nothing beats KY or Astroglide so you shouldn't get creative unless you need to.” He suckles the last patch of chocolate clear, then removes his lips from Finn's skin with a quiet slurping sound. “Anything oily can damage a condom, so avoid that; and if there's a girl involved, anything with sugar in is just asking for a yeast infection.”
“Okay, ew!” Finn's face scrunches up as he flips over and sits up, “Are you actually trying to ruin all my sexy fantasies.”
“That certainly isn't my intention,” Will assures. He leans in and brushes his plumped lips along Finn's neck, reaching down to take hold of his semi and stroke it into a full erection.
“Hm,” Finn hums at the feel of a hand on his rigid dick, “So no peanut butter?”
“Not if you want to fuck me,” Will agrees. “I bought lubricant at the store, give me a moment.”
He heads through to the kitchen and digs around in the grocery bag holding cleaning supplies, toilet paper and other non-food items that he hadn't bothered to pack away when he first arrived; he returns to the bedroom to find that Finn has collected a condom from the nightstand drawer and already put it on. They work together to prep him with the clear gel, Finn's eagerness to contribute and get his own fingers up into Will's hole making the process take longer than it should, but the first push of Finn's cockhead past his tight sphincter makes Will groan aloud and it is almost as if Sunday morning never came and they are still lost in the blissful, lazy afternoon sex that had taken up the whole of the previous day.
Will rocks his hips on the length penetrating him, riding high on the blissful burning of his hole stretching to let it slide into him, the presence of it inside him so instinctively right, and drinking in Finn's pheromones greedily, scraping his nails along the young man's chest as though he might be able to dredge more up from inside him. Finn's pupils are dilated, his eyes like pitch dark dimes with only a thin rim of brown, and he's staring up at the older man; stroking and fumbling at Will's prick, stuttering out breathy gasps and sentence fragments.
“Oh, oh, oh!” His mouth falls open, his hands tightening on Will's hip and erection respectively and as Will sinks down onto his tense length, he gives a grunt of “Fuck, Will!” and comes fiercely.
Will slows, but doesn't stop riding the softening erection inside of him as Finn hits his orgasm. His legs feel leaden as his Eru Emuq spurts out endorphins, but he keeps up the motion as best as he can, “Come on, just a bit more...” He let his head fall forward and his hips come to a standstill as Finn recovers enough of his scattered brain cells to cup Will's erection tightly and bring him off with brusque, sure strokes.
Finn looks beautiful in the aftermath. The early afternoon sun has fallen low enough in the sky for its rays to reach in through the west-facing window and make his flushed, sweaty skin glow, each pearly droplet of Will's ejaculate on his skin shining. Will presses idle kisses wherever he feels like on Finn's prone form and then collects the condom from his flaccid length, tying a knot and clambering up from the bed long enough to throw it in the trash. Finn's arms pull him close as he collapses back onto the bed and he is only too happy to curl closer to the heat pouring off of him.
Will doesn't know how long they've been in the embrace when he turns and cups a hand to Finn's cheek, watching his brown eyes blink open blearily and a smile stretch out his lips.
“'m sleepy,” Finn says, the declaration fading into a yawn.
“There's time for a nap,” Will assures. “Come on, we'll get under the covers.”
Finn is reluctant to do anything that involves moving, but with some manhandling Will has them emulating their embrace under the cover of the duvet. The jar of Skippy has been moved to the bedside table, the Hershey's is steadily melting in its wrapper at the foot of the bed and the Nabisco grahams are nowhere to be seen, but Will figures that's something that can wait until after they've rested. He spoons up against Finn's back, tucking an elbow over his hip and pressing his hand flat to the young man's chest; he breathes in the scent of Finn's hair and listens to his steady breaths until he follows his partner into sleep.
Part 4c
Rating: NC-17
Part: 4b/7
Three hours later Will has come to a standstill in the middle of an aisle at the South Cable Road, Rays Supermarket chain. A frustrated, overweight mother is trying to deal with the tantrum her red-faced toddler is having at the other end of the aisle while a bored looking employee stocks the shelf opposite and watches the display sympathetically, but obviously with no intention of intervening.
It's been three hours since he sent Finn home and he'd really been doing a spectacular job of not thinking about that; but here he is in the middle of the supermarket, with his half-full cart beside him and his gaze fixed on one particular item on the shelf that's just bringing everything flooding back.
“Hey, buddy.” He glances up at the sound. A beefy man in a wifebeater and sandals is leaning heavily on his own cart, looking pointedly at Will's unattended groceries; which he is having trouble negotiating past. “You wanna move it?” The man suggests, pushing a trickle of sweat from his brow up onto the crown of his head and displacing his comb-over.
“Oh sorry,” Will grips the handle of his cart and pulls it close to the edge of the aisle, making enough room for the man to advance and get blocked by the tantrum-throwing toddler instead.
Will turns back to his deliberation, reaching out to pluck a jar from the shelf and contemplate it idly. He finally makes a decision, digging his cellphone out of his pocket and scrolling swiftly through the numbers in his address book before he loses his nerve.
“Hello?” The voice at the other end answers hesitantly.
His breath catches and he almost hangs up; he licks his dry lips and chokes out, “W-which peanut butter do you prefer?”
*
When he arrives back at the apartment building and parks in the underground garage, Will gets out of the car and circles round to the trunk to collect his groceries but pauses with the key in the lock. There's a strange sensation running through him, unfamiliar but similar to the paranoid feeling of seeing something out of the corner of his eye. He steps away from the car, walks across to the stairwell and jogs up the steps to the entry hall. Outside, Finn is just walking up the pathway and so he unlocks the main door to let the young man in.
“Hey,” Finn smiles shyly at him. “How did you- I mean, have you been hanging out here just waiting for me?”
“No, I-” Will hesitates, worrying his lower lip as he considers the honest answer, “I could feel you.”
Finn blinks, bewildered, “Feel me?”
“Our Duranki,” Will explains, “The more time we spend together, the stronger it'll get.” He makes a mental tally and concludes that they've had sex at least half a dozen times, so it's only natural for their connection to have strengthened to the point where physical contact isn't necessary for their Shi to interact... He tries not to think about how he and Terri never reached that point, tries not to consider the implications or leap to any wild conclusions.
“That's a good thing, right?” Finn asks, wary of the serious expression he can see etched on Will's face.
“It's complicated, but- Yes, yes it's a good thing,” Will answers decisively, burying his thoughts under an easy smile.
“So, I mean... Is it like, you can't stay away?” Finn asks, concerned. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his khakis, rocking back on his heels and looking uncomfortable.
“Not like that,” Will assures, sensing Finn's worries. “I just- When I saw the peanut butter on the shelf, I wanted to see you.” The tension eases from Finn's expression and he smiles, the first genuine grin Will has seen out of him since breakfast. Will nods towards the stairwell, “Come on, you can help me with the groceries.”
“Oh, so that's why you invited me over,” Finn teases, falling into step behind him readily.
Will pauses at the top of the stairs, letting the young man step in front so that he can slap his khaki-clad behind affectionately, “You know it.”
They carry the bags up to the apartment, taking the stairs, keeping a steady pace and not saying a word; a noticeable contrast to Saturday morning. Will shuffles the bags in his arms when they arrive at his door, digging his keys out of his jacket pocket to let them in. Finn sets his bags down and strolls purposefully through to the bedroom, leaving Will to close the front door, hang up his jacket and carry the groceries through to the kitchen to be packed away.
Will is happy to have Finn back in his home and certain parts of his anatomy are keen to follow him through to the bedroom, but he also has reservations. He restocks the freezer with beef steak, chicken breast and häagen-dazs; puts an under-ripe pineapple down with the brown-flecked bananas in the fruit bowl; drops carrots, cucumber and tomatoes into the crisper; slides a half-gallon carton of milk and a fresh block of Wisconsin cheddar into the door of the fridge; fills the pantry shelves with dry and tinned produce; and throughout every moment of it, he is internally debating whether opening himself up to Finn again would just be a relapse that's going to hurt him more in the long run.
When he steps through to the bedroom he still hasn't made up his mind, but he finds Finn sprawled out on the bed, buck-naked and jacking his stiff cock slowly. Finn lifts his head, a light flush across his cheeks as he bites his lip and says, “I was waiting for you.”
The protesting voice inside of Will dies away with a whimper and he reaches down, tugging his t-shirt up out of his waistband to pull it off over his head along with his sweater. He watches the tip of Finn's tongue peek out to glide over his lips, notices the renewed movement of the young man's fingers on his dick as dark brown eyes travel up and down the expanse of his bared upper body. He stands on the heel of his sneakers to step out of them one-by-one, then leans on the bed to peel his socks off; the mattress dips as Finn scoots closer and nuzzles the crook of Will's elbow, following the smooth skin up as he licks a trail over his bicep.
Will sets his bare foot to the ground, then runs his fingers through Finn's hair, holding him close. Finn moves sideways, kissing across a pectoral and rubbing the flat of his tongue over a dusky nipple; Will stutters out a shaky breath as the flesh rises into a pebbled peak, then cries out as Finn grazes his teeth along it. Finn glances up sharply at the sound, then soothes the sting with the little flicks of his tongue, his dark eyes still looking up to watch the reaction to his ministrations present on Will's face. Will steadies himself on Finn's shoulder and lifts his leg up behind him, reaching down to pull the remaining sock from his foot. He puts both bare feet to the carpet, pushing Finn back gently and the young man obligingly abandons his efforts in favor of sitting back and watching the bulge in Will's jeans expectantly.
Will cups the lump in his pants, letting his eyes flutter shut as a pleased hum vibrates in his throat. He draws the moment out, dragging the zipper down in a dilatory fashion and letting the tent in his underwear peek out through the fly, utterly delighting in being a pricktease and feeling each incremental rise of Finn's Ni. Finn groans in frustration at the sight of his coy smile and reaches forward to stick his hands down the back of Will's pants, grabbing needy handfuls of his ass and using the position to push the jeans down to his thighs. Will quashes the chuckle rising in his throat and stands on the cuffs of his jeans so that he can step out of them, one pantleg turns inside out as his ankle slides free but he kicks the puddle of fabric aside without fixing it.
Finn resumes his oral assault on Will's chest, while his fingers trail along the defined lines traveling down from Will's hipbones into the front of his briefs. Will is content to dig his fingers into Finn's hair and let him explore, but as the kisses move down past his ribs and onto his stomach he becomes leery of the direction things appear to be turning.
“Finn?” He moves a hand to stroke his thumb inquisitively over the soft skin behind Finn's ear, as a tongue delves into his navel and he can feel the teenager's chin resting on the bulge in his briefs.
“Hm?” Finn licks an ardent stroke up between his abdominal muscles, then ducks lower and runs his cheek against the taut cotton stretched over Will's erection. Will shivers at the faint touch, the image of Finn's lips sliding down his swollen shaft popping up in his mind and making him desperate for contact. Finn sits up and pulls back the elastic of his waistband, delving nimble fingers inside to wrap around his hardened length; Will groans shamelessly. “It's weird,” Finn says, adjusting his grip and making a few short strokes as he slides the briefs down to Will's knees with his other hand, “It's different, but it feels the same as when I'm jerking off. It feels right.” He punctuates the sentence with a squeeze.
Will leans close to kiss him, sucking and biting at Finn's bottom lip as he pushes his underwear the rest of the way down his legs. Finn's hand doesn't stray from Will's erection, he strokes gently to coax back the foreskin and rubs his thumb over the sensitive membrane underneath, close to the ridge of the glans; his fingers are pressed to the thick vein running along the underside and so he can feel the older man's accelerated pulse. Will hisses and leans into the touch, bending down to drop a kiss on Finn's plump, abused lower lip.
“Damn, you're good at this,” He mumbles, moving to bite at Finn's collarbone, making sure to be gentle so that he won't leave any marks that might attract attention at school tomorrow.
“It's just like jerking off,” Finn repeats, tilting his head to give him better access to his neck and throat.
“And I suppose you're good at that too,” Will says, his voice a low rumble.
“I've had a lot of practice,” Finn agrees, changing his grip so that the head of Will's cock is rubbing over his palm.
Will groans and takes a step back, his erection sliding out of Finn's lax grip; he puts his hands on Finn's shoulders and pushes him onto his back on the bed, climbing up and kneeling next to his prone form, “Show me.”
Finn blinks, “You want me to-?”
“Touch yourself for me,” Will instructs, leaning down to purr the words into Finn's ear. “You got yourself all nice and hard while you were waiting for me, I want to see it.”
Finn's dark brown eyes watch him warily for a few seconds, then his right hand snakes down and gets a firm grip on his shaft; there's no hesitance in his first stroke, he sets to the task with a devotion that all young men pay to their dick when they're still the only person touching it with any real regularity. “You like it like that?” Will's breath is still hot and damp in Finn's ear, but his gaze is fixed on the rhythmic slide of the younger man's hand. “You like it hard and dirty, you naughty little wanker.”
Finn chokes out a laugh at the English term, turning his head to look up at him, “Sometimes I go slower, try to draw it out y'know; but ever since Thursday, I picture your mouth on my dick and I just have to...” He trails off, the sounds rising from the slide of his hand on his erection speaking for themselves. The movement slows after a few long strokes and he grips the base of his dick, his brow furrowing as he mumbles something under his breath that Will doesn't quite catch but sounds a bit like 'Rain man'. He hesitantly unfurls his fingers, his length twitching a little and then falling back against his belly, his pheromones fading back down from melting point. He catches Will's eye again, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Will returns calmly.
Finn drops his eyes to the slackening length at Will's crotch, he licks his lips and Will feels a pulse of blood bring his prick back to full size; his mind taking the fantasy that Finn had just admitted to and swapping their roles in the exchange.
“You're a guy, right?” Finn says, “So you must jerk off sometimes.”
A whole lot more since his divorce was finalized, but he's not gonna own up to that one, “Well, yeah.”
“So, come on; show me,” Finn requests, turning onto his side to face him.
Will runs his eyes along from Finn's expectant expression to the tuft of dark hair peeking out from under his armpit; follows down the line of his pectorals to compare it to the scant wiry hairs around his nipples that are going to lead the spread of chest hair that will develop sometime over the next decade; pans along to the softly-defined abdominal muscles standing out over a pudgy, insulating layer of youthful puppy fat; and finally rests his gaze on the thick cock, rising out of a bushy patch of black curls, and laying along the length of his thigh like a sleeping jungle cat.
His left hand has moved to his rigid prick of its own accord and he turns onto his side too, reaching out to run his other hand along Finn's chest as he teases out precome and smears it over his glans with his thumb; every inch of Finn's Etlutu body is appealing to Will on a deep, instinctual level that he can't argue or reason with. He makes stilted strokes along the upper part of his cock, keeping the head cupped in his palm at all times, and explores the source of his desire with hungry eyes and searching fingertips. He likes the strength he can sense in Finn's sturdy muscles, but likes the tiny imperfections he uncovers: the thin, faded scar on his forearm, the spattering of acne along his legs; just as much.
“Fuck, Will.” Finn shivers as Will's fingertips come up to trace along his parted lips. He takes hold of his own cock again and quirks an eyebrow at his partner, “Race ya?” He suggests playfully.
Will hums and lets go of himself, reaching out to put his hand over Finn's, “If you want to challenge me, surely we should be testing our skills on each other.” Finn nods considerately and lets go, allowing Will to take a firmer grip on him as he reaches over to take hold of Will's erection. “Hm, you're going down,” Will remarks confidently.
“Would you like that?” Finn replies archly, “I bet you'd love to have my mouth all wet and hot on your dick.” He lick his lips pointedly.
Will whimpers and his prick lets out a burst of slick precome, maybe he'd overestimated his chances of winning this contest because he feels a whole lot closer to the edge after that comment; but that doesn't mean he can't fight back.
“I'd like that a lot,” He agrees, “But it would be even better to have you kneeling over my face so that I could lean up and blow you while you were sucking me.” Pheromones pour off of Finn and his hand speeds up on Will's dick in an attempt to bring him off before his own approaching orgasm. “Just thinking about it...” He pauses to hum sinfully, the pleased sound vibrating in his throat. Finn starts mumbling under his breath again, his eyes squeezed shut, his diaphragm convulsing to accommodate his rapid breaths. “Your lips sliding up and down me, driving me mad, while I pull your cock into my throat and swallow until you're screaming round my prick-” Finn gives a vocal demonstration as he shoots his load over Will's fingers.
“Hm, that was eas-Oh!” Will's gloating remark is choked off as Finn, rather than falling into a post-coital slouch, takes up jerking his prick with renewed vigor.
“Don't be smug,” Finn warns, eyes ablaze with determination. “You wouldn't be far behind me.” His words are uncannily true as Will finds himself spilling his load over Finn's hand almost the instant he's finished speaking. Finn lets Will's receding dick go and turns onto his back, “Fuck; we should have really done that, not just talked about it.”
Will chuckles and falls forward, cuddling closer to Finn, “I'll be honest and say that I was making it sound sexier than it really is. It all sounds good, but there's neck strain and the angle makes it hard to give a blowjob properly and there's a really high chance that the person on top will fart and ruin the mood.”
“Okay, gross.” Finn wrinkles his nose, “There go my jerkoff plans for the night.”
Will snorts and buries his face in Finn's flushed, slick skin.
There's a comfortable period of silence as they lie together and recover their normal breathing rate, then Will lifts his head hesitantly. He can't quite meet Finn's eye and his voice is raw, his emotions open, “Finn, I... I'm glad you came.”
“I'm glad you came too,” Finn replies, lifting his hand and leering at the ejaculate staining it; he sticks his tongue out to lick his fingers clean and the effect is partly ruined by his expression of distaste, “Nope, that's still really nasty.”
Will feels the uncertainty in him die down as he watches Finn's abashed grin, feels a sense of genuine comfort wash through him at the way Finn disarmed his charged emotions with humor before he made an idiot out of himself. He cups his palm against Finn's cheek affectionately, “Poor darling,” He replies in mock-sympathy, then kisses him gently.
Finn hums into the kiss, brushing the tip of his tongue along Will's bottom lip and he smiles when they break apart, “You got something to take the taste away?” He quirks an eyebrow as he says it.
Will doesn't miss the hint and while licking his lingering essence out of Finn's mouth sounds like a delightful way to spend the next ten minutes, he has a better idea. “Sure,” He answers, sliding off the bed.
“Will, where are you-?”
“I'll be back in a second,” He calls over his shoulder, crossing through to the bathroom. He turns the faucet and washes his hand clean under a stream of warm water, then soaks a washcloth and wrings it out until it is merely damp. “Heads up,” He pokes his head round the doorjamb and tosses the cloth, smiling in spite of himself when he hears the wet slap of the cloth landing and Finn's disgruntled cry at the impact.
Will returns a moment later and finds Finn wiping the remaining spunk from his fingers, a patch of bright pink standing out on his stomach from where the cloth made its landing. Finn glares for a moment when he notices Will but it smooths out immediately when he spots what he's carrying.
“Nabisco grahams, Hershey's, Skippy,” Will lists each item as he sets them down on the mattress, then hops up onto the bed and scoots close to the younger man.
“You are so many different kinds of awesome,” Finn says reverently, picking up the jar of peanut butter and unscrewing the lid.
“So you keep telling me,” Will answers modestly, tearing along the flap of the crackers box.
“I mean it,” Finn insists, pausing with the lid of the jar off. “You should like, get a medal or something. I, I should- Do you want a back-rub?”
Will blinks bemusedly and sets the cracker box down, “A back-rub?”
“Or like, a foot massage,” Finn suggests. “There's gotta be something I can do to repay how cool you're being.”
Stay. It isn't so much a thought as a burning need running through the very core of Will's being and he catches it and buries it deep before it can stray along the Duranki, because it scares the hell out of him. He looks at the young man sitting opposite him on the bed, completely nude but unashamed to be bare in front of him; smiling like a goofball, but with sincere affection in his gaze. All he wants is for this to never end, wants to ask Finn to make something real out of this; the consequences, and anyone who might disapprove, be damned!
...And he knows that if he were to ask Finn right now, he would pledge himself devotedly and he would mean every word; so Will pushes down the urge, because Finn can't be expected to keep any promise he makes, he's almost blindingly optimistic but he's also young and ignorant of how cruel the world can really be.
“Just having you here is enough,” Will answers, taking Finn's hand and squeezing tightly, “You don't need to do anything more than that.”
Finn smiles shyly in reply, stroking his thumb across Will's knuckles and they sit in mutual silence for a long, comfortable moment.
Finn sticks his finger into the jar, scoops up a glob of peanut butter and pops it into his mouth; humming contentedly as he licks his finger clean, then slides it free with an audible pop.
“That's disgusting,” Will remarks levelly, recovering from the waver that had appeared in his voice. “What did you think the crackers were for?” He picks up the Nabisco box again and rattles it to complement his question.
Finn swallows thickly around the lump of peanut butter and grins broadly, “My way's more fun.” He scoops another finger's worth out of the jar.
“Great, so now the peanut butter has your saliva all over it,” Will remarks woefully.
Finn cocks an eyebrow, swallowing his second mouthful and gesturing accusingly at the older man, “You had your tongue up my butthole yesterday.”
Will feels warmth bloom across his cheeks and he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he considers the truth in that, “I see your point.”
“Here.” Finn runs his finger along Will's lips, smearing some of the peanut butter. Will parts his lips and accepts the offering; the tasty, creamy offering that always reminds him of being thirteen and discovering PB&J as just one of the thousands of little miracles during his first summer on Earth. He moans happily and suckles Finn's finger when it tries to pull back, he reaches up to hold the young man's hand in place and licks every lingering trace from the digit. “Fuck, you really like peanut butter,” Finn observes.
Will chuckles and lets the finger slide from between his lips, “Or maybe I just like it when you're feeding it to me,” He suggests.
Finn ducks his head shyly, not quite hiding the cheerful grin that is stretching out his cheeks. Will leans close to part Finn's rosy lips with his tongue and taste the traces of peanut butter in his mouth; he is full of the warmth of happy memories mixed with the comfort and safety he has come to feel in Finn's presence, his uncertainties for the future fading away as he basks in the glory of the present.
Will uses the distraction to ply the jar from Finn's grip and picks up the box of graham crackers again.
“Now then,” He remarks pointedly, sliding two crackers from the box and setting them aside. “I'll show you how to do this properly.” He dabs at the peanut butter and smears it thickly across one of the crackers, unable to resist the desire to lick his fingers clean afterward. Then he tears open the wrapper on the chocolate bar and breaks a few squares off; the chocolate is sandwiched between the peanut butter and crackers, then primly presented to Finn. “Try it,” He insists.
Finn, the stupid, gluttonous bastard, shoves the whole thing into his mouth in one go and has to chew it doggedly for close to two minutes before he is able to swallow it.
“You're supposed to take smaller bites,” Will remarks affectionately, rubbing Finn's back as he takes heavy breaths.
“D-drink,” Finn pants out, tongue lolling and thick with an orange smear.
Slapping him on the back one final time, Will climbs up from the bed and pads through to the kitchen to pour a glass of milk. “Here.” He holds the glass out as he returns, “Is semi-skimmed okay?”
“Anything's good right now,” Finn replies, voice thick from the peanut butter clogging his tongue. He gulps the milk down, then holds the empty glass out meekly.
“You're an idiot,” Will informs cordially, running a thumb along Finn's lips to collect stray droplets of milk from the corners of his mouth, then kisses him chastely before leaving to return the glass to the kitchen.
When he gets back, Finn is sprawled on the bed with the jar of peanut butter in one hand and his lips wrapped round two fingers of the other. He slides his slick fingers away and grins charmingly as Will slides down onto the mattress beside him again, “I still like my way better.”
“Fine,” Will surrenders and cuddles closer. “Just try not to stain the sheets.” He'd changed the sex-stained covers after Finn left that morning; while Terri's 15% staff discount means that the linen closet had been plentifully stocked during their marriage, and remains so currently, he isn't out to make more laundry for himself than the amount they've already accumulated.
“No problem,” Finn answers grandly. He scoops a glob onto his finger, then grins and holds it out to Will, “Guess who I am.”
“You're Finn,” He answers plainly, leaning in and gobbling up the peanut butter.
“No, c'mon; guess,” Finn insists. He collects another smear on the end of his index finger and holds it out, making a humming sound and twitching it about in the air. Will is starting to wonder whether maybe Finn is lactose intolerant and this is some kind of strange psychological symptom brought on by the milk he just chugged down, when Finn croaks out the words, “I'll be right here,” and presses his finger against Will's chest.
“That's not even funny,” Will declares flatly.
“Yes it is,” Finn returns, unfaltering. He leans down and licks the peanut butter stain from Will's skin, laving the area attentively to clear away any sticky substance clinging to his wiry chest hairs. “Hm,” He hums contentedly as he rises, “Fuck, that's good.” In an instant he has straddled Will's hips and is coating his fingers with peanut butter.
“Finn.” Will bucks up against him, more a token protest than a genuine attempt to dislodge him because he knows that the young quarterback has the height and weight advantage here.
“Sorry,” Finn replies, not sounding the least bit apologetic, as he leaves a trail along Will's neck and bends down to lick it clear. He hums his satisfaction again and sits back up, looking down with his lips soft, pink and slightly parted, “It tastes so damn good, I just want to put you in a sandwich.” There's a moment of awkward silence. “That, uh, sounded a lot less creepy in my head,” Finn comments abashedly. Will bites the inside of his cheek, but the amused snort bursts out anyway; Finn looks annoyed, then relieved at his reaction and returns to slathering Will with tasty trails for him to slurp up.
Tentatively aroused by the slide of Finn's moist tongue on his skin, Will decides to reciprocate and reaches out for the Hershey's bar lying forlornly on the bed beside them. The chocolate is already soft from the ambient heat of the room and as Will rubs a square between his thumb and forefinger a melted trail is left behind; when Finn next sits up, he reaches out and taps him on the nose.
“Hey!”
Will laughs as Finn goes cross-eyed trying to observe the chocolate stain on the tip of his nose and he leans up to lick it clear. “Two can play at this game, darling,” Will declares, smiling innocently and wiping a smear across Finn's cheek affectionately.
Finn growls playfully as Will lies back down from having licked his cheek clean and settles his weight over him, pressing down on Will's shoulders to keep him pinned to the mattress. “I play to win,” He says, stealing a kiss before he leans up to reclaim the jar of Skippy.
Will hums thoughtfully and then, before Finn has to a chance to assert his control again, he scrambles out from underneath him and to the other side of the bed. “Catch me if you can,” He challenges, eyes glistening with mischief.
They chase and dance around each other for a while, Finn making dynamic, if clumsy, commando rolls across the bed while Will skirts the edges of the room in swift bursts; they make fleeting contact with each other, leaving tiny smears of sticky foodstuff on their targets' skin but not enough to claim a victory. After about ten minutes of their game, Will's dodge is too slow and Finn gets an arm round his waist and tackles him to the bed, supporting his weight with a courtesy he wouldn't show on the field so as not to risk hurting him.
“I win,” Finn declares proudly, leaving a two-fingered trail of peanut butter along the line of Will's left pectoral. Will smiles mysteriously and unfurls his fingers from the block of chocolate that had entirely melted in his hand, reaching down to palm Finn's ass and leave a sticky handprint on his cheek. Finn lifts his head from lapping up the peanut butter and groans in defeat, letting his forehead fall to rest in the crook of Will's neck, “Fuck.”
Will smiles and runs the fingers of his clean hand through Finn's hair soothingly, “Sorry, but it looks like you lost.”
“Yeah well...” He sits up and a crooked grin graces his face, “Now you've got to lick it off.”
“Always a silver lining,” Will mumbles, amused.
The smooth, creamy skin of Finn's muscular backside is thrust up in the air for his attentions and Will takes a moment to admire his handiwork. Finn doesn't have obvious tanlines because they live in Ohio, not California, but high on his thighs the growth of hair begins to thin out and the skin goes a shade paler; the rich, chocolate brown stain stands out in brilliant contrast to the pink skin. The circle of his palm is depicted on the edge of Finn's left buttcheek, close to the skin of his thigh; the line of his thumb is directed up towards the hipbone; the four finger stains spread out across the curve of the cheek, the tip of his long middle finger stopping an inch shy of Finn's hairy crack.
“Are you just going to look at it?” Finn asks, looking over his shoulder and flexing the muscles of his ass enticingly, “Come on.” Will obediently lowers his lips to the heated flesh, sets the tip of his tongue to the short, thin line left behind by his pinky finger and follows it from the gap between it and the palm all the way to it's termination point. He follows the path with his tongue several times to collect any stubborn, lingering stain and Finn moans softly at the sensation, “Mmm, that's good.”
Will grins at the reaction and his teeth graze against skin, inspiring him to bite down gently. He can feel the pheromones rising from the warm body before him and the semi Finn is sporting between his legs hasn't escaped Will's attention.
“You like this, hm?” He observes, adjusting the grip of his clean hand to palm Finn's right asscheek as he turns his tongue to the thumbprint leading up to his hipbone.
“It's good,” Finn repeats, a contented hum.
Will runs his tongue up the curve of Finn's ass to lick clean the last three finger-shaped stripes of chocolate, letting the stains smear together into a single mess for his tongue to lap up rather than following each line with precision. Finn exhales deeply and the muscles of his ass quiver under Will's tongue, clearly enjoying the sloppy enthusiasm over the meticulous approach. The chocolate is sweet on Will's tongue, but the salty tang of Finn's sweat is taking the edge off and stopping the task from becoming sickly.
“Can you use peanut butter as lube?” Finn questions as Will moves on to the final hurdle of the large smear left by his palm.
“You can,” Will answers, pressing his lips to the patch of skin in the middle of the stain from where his palm didn't press down as firmly, suckling the light traces clean. “I wouldn't suggest it though, could be messy.”
“And I'm feeling shower-fresh right now,” Finn returns sarcastically.
Will chuckles and runs his swollen lips along the spit-slick skin of Finn's cheek agreeably, “There's lots of things you can use as lube if you have to, but nothing beats KY or Astroglide so you shouldn't get creative unless you need to.” He suckles the last patch of chocolate clear, then removes his lips from Finn's skin with a quiet slurping sound. “Anything oily can damage a condom, so avoid that; and if there's a girl involved, anything with sugar in is just asking for a yeast infection.”
“Okay, ew!” Finn's face scrunches up as he flips over and sits up, “Are you actually trying to ruin all my sexy fantasies.”
“That certainly isn't my intention,” Will assures. He leans in and brushes his plumped lips along Finn's neck, reaching down to take hold of his semi and stroke it into a full erection.
“Hm,” Finn hums at the feel of a hand on his rigid dick, “So no peanut butter?”
“Not if you want to fuck me,” Will agrees. “I bought lubricant at the store, give me a moment.”
He heads through to the kitchen and digs around in the grocery bag holding cleaning supplies, toilet paper and other non-food items that he hadn't bothered to pack away when he first arrived; he returns to the bedroom to find that Finn has collected a condom from the nightstand drawer and already put it on. They work together to prep him with the clear gel, Finn's eagerness to contribute and get his own fingers up into Will's hole making the process take longer than it should, but the first push of Finn's cockhead past his tight sphincter makes Will groan aloud and it is almost as if Sunday morning never came and they are still lost in the blissful, lazy afternoon sex that had taken up the whole of the previous day.
Will rocks his hips on the length penetrating him, riding high on the blissful burning of his hole stretching to let it slide into him, the presence of it inside him so instinctively right, and drinking in Finn's pheromones greedily, scraping his nails along the young man's chest as though he might be able to dredge more up from inside him. Finn's pupils are dilated, his eyes like pitch dark dimes with only a thin rim of brown, and he's staring up at the older man; stroking and fumbling at Will's prick, stuttering out breathy gasps and sentence fragments.
“Oh, oh, oh!” His mouth falls open, his hands tightening on Will's hip and erection respectively and as Will sinks down onto his tense length, he gives a grunt of “Fuck, Will!” and comes fiercely.
Will slows, but doesn't stop riding the softening erection inside of him as Finn hits his orgasm. His legs feel leaden as his Eru Emuq spurts out endorphins, but he keeps up the motion as best as he can, “Come on, just a bit more...” He let his head fall forward and his hips come to a standstill as Finn recovers enough of his scattered brain cells to cup Will's erection tightly and bring him off with brusque, sure strokes.
Finn looks beautiful in the aftermath. The early afternoon sun has fallen low enough in the sky for its rays to reach in through the west-facing window and make his flushed, sweaty skin glow, each pearly droplet of Will's ejaculate on his skin shining. Will presses idle kisses wherever he feels like on Finn's prone form and then collects the condom from his flaccid length, tying a knot and clambering up from the bed long enough to throw it in the trash. Finn's arms pull him close as he collapses back onto the bed and he is only too happy to curl closer to the heat pouring off of him.
Will doesn't know how long they've been in the embrace when he turns and cups a hand to Finn's cheek, watching his brown eyes blink open blearily and a smile stretch out his lips.
“'m sleepy,” Finn says, the declaration fading into a yawn.
“There's time for a nap,” Will assures. “Come on, we'll get under the covers.”
Finn is reluctant to do anything that involves moving, but with some manhandling Will has them emulating their embrace under the cover of the duvet. The jar of Skippy has been moved to the bedside table, the Hershey's is steadily melting in its wrapper at the foot of the bed and the Nabisco grahams are nowhere to be seen, but Will figures that's something that can wait until after they've rested. He spoons up against Finn's back, tucking an elbow over his hip and pressing his hand flat to the young man's chest; he breathes in the scent of Finn's hair and listens to his steady breaths until he follows his partner into sleep.
Part 4c