Seize the Day - NaNoWriMo Attempt - Chapter 16
I'm only like, 3.5k to the finish line, which I think I will be crossing, tomorrow. This chapter is very NSFW. Jazz and Savin demanded I give them a fully detailed, sexy chapter. So here ya go/ ;)
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
A couple of weeks later, Savin relaxed into Jazz’s couch, resting his head against Jazz’s thigh. He sighed, letting the warmth of Jazz’s body flow through him. “Aren’t you glad your dad is back to running the Empire?” he asked, looking up at Jazz’s beautiful face.
Jazz smiled, relief registering on his features as he, too, leaned his head back against the couch. One of his hands tangled in Savin’s hair, brushing it out of Savin’s eyes. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against Savin’s forehead. “Best part is, he still doesn’t know we’re dating.”
A slight chill rolled down Savin’s spine at that. He frowned, but tried to hide it by rolling to face Jazz’s stomach and closing his eyes. “My dad knows, though,” he said after a while, taking a chance to look back up at Jazz.
Jazz’s eyes widened, his fingers no longer running themselves through Savin’s hair. “Your dad knows?” he breathed, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “Since when?”
“Ever since he saw me put my hand on your shoulder?” Savin said, furrowing his brow a bit in thought. “So for a couple of weeks now, I guess? I dunno -- these past couple of weeks have all blurred together,” he said, pushing himself back up into a sitting position. He stretched, cracking his back in the process as Jazz continued to stare at him incredulously.
“And you didn’t think to tell me, because...?” Jazz asked finally, shaking his head in disbelief. “How many other people know, Savin? I mean -- I told you we needed to keep this a secret, for the time being --”
“Aside from my father and Mitchel, no one else knows,” Savin answered, cutting Jazz off. He frowned himself, removing his glasses from his face so he could pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Oh, and Mari,” he added a moment later, glancing over at Jazz.
“Who’s Mari?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow at Savin. He slowly folded his arms over his chest and kept his eyes forward.
“She’s --” Savin stopped himself and pursed his lips together in thought. “Remember the night we met? When we were at the bar?”
Recognition dawned on Jazz’s face, his expression lightening up, some. “She’s the girl who encouraged you to take me home,” he said after a while, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well, yeah, of course she knows, but does she know who I am?”
“Of course she does,” Savin said with a quiet laugh. “Well, she does now, anyway. She was watching the address when your father got shot -- and only after I called her to make sure I wasn’t just seeing things when I saw you sitting behind the podium.”
Jazz nodded and bit his lip, brushing his own hair out of his eyes as he looked away from Savin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was,” he said after a few quiet moments. “I’m not sure if you would have believed me.”
“Pretty sure I wouldn’t have,” Savin said, smiling at Jazz. He wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, pulling him close. “So how’re things going with the Empire? You were worried a few weeks ago that you had screwed everything up.”
Jazz shook his head, managing a quiet smile as he settled his head against Savin’s chest. His eyes closed, one arm draped over Savin’s front and resting against his side. “They’re going just as smoothly as they can be, I guess,” he answered, hesitance lacing his voice. “I mean, I didn’t screw anything up, but -- all of the colonies want something from the Empire, and not all of them can get what they want without creating further conflict with United.”
Savin nodded, well aware that Jazz couldn’t see him do so. He drifted his fingers along Jazz’s arm, smiling as Jazz squirmed a little under his touch. “Still think we shouldn’t have gone to war with them, in the first place,” Savin grumbled, resting his head against the back of the couch and looking up towards the ceiling. “That was just a giant fucking mess.”
“Tell me about it,” Jazz muttered into Savin’s chest. “I tried to advise my father against going to war -- but the rest of the Council didn’t exactly agree with my stance on things.”
“Ah,” Savin murmured, trailing his fingers up along Jazz’s shoulder. He brushed his fingertips against Jazz’s neck, relishing in how the slight touches continued to make Jazz shiver against him. “I haven’t seen Mitchel around, lately -- I take it that bastard’s given up?” he asked.
Jazz tensed in his arms, his eyes snapping open for a moment. Savin frowned, watching as Jazz seemed to search for the right words. “He -- He seems more focused on making sure I never run the Empire in my father’s absence again, than he does on trying to get back together with me.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Savin said, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. He trailed his fingers back down along the edge of Jazz’s jaw before reaching over with his other hand and tilting Jazz’s chin back. He pressed his lips against Jazz’s own, his own eyes fluttering closed at the contact. They hadn’t really had any time to themselves in the past two weeks, either.
Jazz reacted in kind, his hand cupping Savin’s cheek as he deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue forward through Savin’s parted lips. Savin shivered at that, noticing the way Jazz seemed to be taking more control than usual as he shifted his weight so that he sat in Savin’s lap, straddling him. When Jazz broke apart and began kissing down the length of Savin’s jaw to the front of Savin’s throat, Savin let out of a quiet moan, not quite sure what to do with his hands, other than resting them on Jazz’s hips.
Two weeks. They hadn’t had sex in two weeks, and with the way Jazz’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Savin’s shirt, Savin thought that their anticipation showed. Savin’s hands moved from Jazz’s hips to under the younger man’s shirt, fingers teasing nipples he found out weeks ago were quite sensitive. As Jazz muffled a moan against the skin of Savin’s shoulder, Jazz’s hands had brushed Savin’s shirt aside, his mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses in its wake.
Savin didn’t want to think about how painfully hard he had become in just a few short minutes, his breath already coming in short gasps as Jazz’s mouth continued to move southward. Jazz slipped out of Savin’s lap and onto the floor, kneeling in front of him. Jazz’s fingers hiked under the edge of Savin’s jeans, pulling them and Savin’s boxers off his hips without so much as asking whether it was okay. The way Savin ached, though, and needed to be touched, he wasn’t sure he needed to give Jazz his express permission.
Still, Savin found himself reaching for Jazz’s shoulders as he spread his legs wide in order to allow Jazz to slip between them. Savin’s fingers then found themselves tangled in Jazz’s hair, considering Jazz’s lips were soon pressed against the tip of Savin’s cock. Jazz’s tongue darted along the slit, then moved down Savin’s length. As he teased, Savin found it difficult to keep himself quiet -- or his eyes open.
Jazz’s mouth soon surrounded him, warm and wet and absolutely perfect, teeth tucked behind lips. Savin wanted to tell Jazz that pain was perfectly alright with him -- that he even liked being bitten, just a little bit, but the way Jazz sucked him off was enough for now. He could feel Jazz’s hands slip lower, first squeezing his sac and then teasing the sensitive flesh above Savin’s entrance.
Fingertips then brushed his entrance, teasing along the edge of it and causing Savin to gasp loudly. He rocked against Jazz’s fingers, encouraging him to push inside him. Savin felt Jazz chuckle around him as his mouth slid along his length. He opened his eyes when Jazz suddenly stopped, noticing the teasing smirk on Jazz’s face. “Didn’t take you for much of a bottom...” Jazz breathed against his all too sensitive skin, tongue darting out again to trace along the head of Savin’s cock.
“Prefer to top,” Savin answered, whimpering as a single finger pressed inside him. “But if you wanna top, I’m not gonna -- I’m not gonna stop you.”
“Good,” Jazz growled, pulling his hands away from Savin’s body. “Let’s finish this in my room,” he said, that smirk still on his face. He got up from the floor, tugging his shirt up and over his head as Savin took a moment to collect himself. Savin must have taken too long, because Jazz grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the couch, dragging him back down a lengthy hallway, towards Jazz’s bedroom.
It was at that exact moment that Savin realized he had never been inside Jazz’s bedroom -- that their previous encounter had started and finished on the couch out in the living room. And now as he walked inside it, their difference in lifestyles became all the more apparent. Jazz’s room was sparse, with very little on the walls and the walls painted a plain white color, unlike the rest of the apartment. The bed was large, though, perfect for the both of them, and a stack of books remained on the nightstand.
Savin’s eyes widened slightly as he scanned the titles, a few of them sticking out like thorns amongst the political theory books. He didn’t get a chance to even ask about those odd books, though, as Jazz pushed him down onto the bed, Savin’s face to the mattress. Just as Savin was about to protest, he felt something wet and soft press against his backside, and just like that, the urge left him.
He squirmed and whimpered against Jazz’s sheets, hands grasping whatever they could as Jazz continued to rim him. He ripped his glasses off his face and put them somewhere where they’d be safe and moaned as Jazz’s hands spread his ass even wider, his breath brushing against all too sensitive skin. Skin that hadn’t been teased like that in years. He could hear Jazz chuckle quietly to himself, his tongue continuing to tease Savin open.
After what felt like a pleasurable eternity, Jazz slipped another couple of fingers inside Savin. “You want me to fuck you from behind or from the front...?” Jazz murmured against Savin’s lower back, his fingers rocking in and out of Savin slowly.
“Front,” Savin gasped. “You don’t -- don’t get to take me from behind, just yet,” he said, the teasing note to his voice vanishing as Jazz’s fingers struck against his spot.
“You sure about that, Dr. Bates?” Jazz breathed against his skin. “I think you’d let me take you right now, without lube...”
Savin nearly melted against Jazz, the words causing his cock to jump in excitement. He moaned instead of answering, moving to push himself onto his back as Jazz’s fingers disappeared yet again. “Didn’t know you -- liked to talk dirty, Prince Jasper,” he said, managing to smirk up at Jazz as Jazz procured a bottle of lube from his nightstand.
“There’re lots of things you don’t know about me, yet,” Jazz responded, grinning at Savin as he spread lube along the length of his own cock. Savin had a feeling he was only using the bare minimum, and his own cock ached with need. He shivered as Jazz spread his legs wide open and grabbed Savin’s hips roughly, pulling Savin towards him.
Savin wanted to say he wanted to know everything about him, but the words died on his lips as Jazz thrust inside him, pain causing his whole body to tense around Jazz for a moment. Savin scrunched his face and forced himself to breathe in deeply in an effort to manage the pain. When was the last time he had actually let another man inside of him? When had he last let himself be this vulnerable with anyone, letting them take the lead and dictate how things were going to go?
The answer had to have been almost a decade, now. And with Jazz inside him, he wondered why he didn’t take the initiative like he always did. Why he didn’t stop Jazz from getting this far. Did it really matter that Jazz’s cock now pressed deep inside him -- like only one other man had managed to do, before him?
Savin willed those thoughts away as Jazz moved his hips slowly. He then closed his eyes, yelping in pleasure as Jazz then thrust into him harshly all over again. He writhed underneath the smaller man, nails clawing at sheets and then for Jazz’s hips, pulling him further and deeper inside of him. Savin thought he heard himself pleading for more, for Jazz to fuck him like he’d never fucked anyone, before, for Jazz to move faster, harder.
Except that couldn’t have been him. He prided on himself on never begging. On being the one who did the teasing, one being the one who got others to beg and call his name. Jazz’s lips were on his chest, on his shoulders, his nails digging into Savin’s hips as he pounded him, each thrust definitely harsher than the last, each one slamming into some pleasurable spot deep inside him. After a while it got to be too much, and Savin found himself wrapping a hand around his own length, pleasuring himself as Jazz continued to move in and out of him.
He came just as Jazz’s thrusts grew erratic, Jazz’s own breathing harsh and uneven in Savin’s ear. A moment later, Jazz let out a quiet cry against Savin’s shoulder, teeth digging into flesh as Jazz’s body shuddered to a stop. He then collapsed on top of Savin, both panting, both wrapping their arms around the other, quiet, pleased laughter escaping them both.
“You -- you sure you prefer topping?” Jazz asked, another soft laugh escaping his lips. He nuzzled Savin’s shoulder as he pulled out, settling his weight beside Savin on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you get that loud.”
“Shut up,” Savin muttered, glaring goodnaturedly at Jazz. He tilted Jazz’s chin back, kissing the younger man, their tongues moving in slow, lazy passes against the other’s. “I haven’t -- you’re the second person to -- top me,” he admitted, his face burning, and not from the exertion of their previous activities.
Jazz’s eyes widened, a shy smile spreading across his lips. “I see,” he said, his hand trailing down Savin’s bare chest, only to rest on Savin’s hip. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Savin kissed Jazz again, smiling back at him. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, too,” he teased, pulling Jazz even closer to him. “It’s no fun if we both aren’t enjoying it, y’know?”
“Oh, I enjoyed myself plenty...” Jazz said, smirking at Savin. “Hearing you whimper like that? Shit. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Savin’s face burned again, and he shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He couldn’t contain his grin, though, as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the mattress. “Let’s take a nap,” he suggested, struggling to keep his eyes open as the post-orgasm haze settled over him.
“Okay,” Jazz whispered against his shoulder. “G’night, Savin.”
“G’night, Jazz.”
Savin’s last thought as he drifted off to sleep was how lucky he really was, finding someone like Jazz in a rundown bar off of Main Street. That sort of thing? Simply didn’t happen.
He hoped he’d never wake up from this dream.
Next Chapter
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
A couple of weeks later, Savin relaxed into Jazz’s couch, resting his head against Jazz’s thigh. He sighed, letting the warmth of Jazz’s body flow through him. “Aren’t you glad your dad is back to running the Empire?” he asked, looking up at Jazz’s beautiful face.
Jazz smiled, relief registering on his features as he, too, leaned his head back against the couch. One of his hands tangled in Savin’s hair, brushing it out of Savin’s eyes. “You don’t even know,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against Savin’s forehead. “Best part is, he still doesn’t know we’re dating.”
A slight chill rolled down Savin’s spine at that. He frowned, but tried to hide it by rolling to face Jazz’s stomach and closing his eyes. “My dad knows, though,” he said after a while, taking a chance to look back up at Jazz.
Jazz’s eyes widened, his fingers no longer running themselves through Savin’s hair. “Your dad knows?” he breathed, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “Since when?”
“Ever since he saw me put my hand on your shoulder?” Savin said, furrowing his brow a bit in thought. “So for a couple of weeks now, I guess? I dunno -- these past couple of weeks have all blurred together,” he said, pushing himself back up into a sitting position. He stretched, cracking his back in the process as Jazz continued to stare at him incredulously.
“And you didn’t think to tell me, because...?” Jazz asked finally, shaking his head in disbelief. “How many other people know, Savin? I mean -- I told you we needed to keep this a secret, for the time being --”
“Aside from my father and Mitchel, no one else knows,” Savin answered, cutting Jazz off. He frowned himself, removing his glasses from his face so he could pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Oh, and Mari,” he added a moment later, glancing over at Jazz.
“Who’s Mari?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow at Savin. He slowly folded his arms over his chest and kept his eyes forward.
“She’s --” Savin stopped himself and pursed his lips together in thought. “Remember the night we met? When we were at the bar?”
Recognition dawned on Jazz’s face, his expression lightening up, some. “She’s the girl who encouraged you to take me home,” he said after a while, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well, yeah, of course she knows, but does she know who I am?”
“Of course she does,” Savin said with a quiet laugh. “Well, she does now, anyway. She was watching the address when your father got shot -- and only after I called her to make sure I wasn’t just seeing things when I saw you sitting behind the podium.”
Jazz nodded and bit his lip, brushing his own hair out of his eyes as he looked away from Savin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was,” he said after a few quiet moments. “I’m not sure if you would have believed me.”
“Pretty sure I wouldn’t have,” Savin said, smiling at Jazz. He wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, pulling him close. “So how’re things going with the Empire? You were worried a few weeks ago that you had screwed everything up.”
Jazz shook his head, managing a quiet smile as he settled his head against Savin’s chest. His eyes closed, one arm draped over Savin’s front and resting against his side. “They’re going just as smoothly as they can be, I guess,” he answered, hesitance lacing his voice. “I mean, I didn’t screw anything up, but -- all of the colonies want something from the Empire, and not all of them can get what they want without creating further conflict with United.”
Savin nodded, well aware that Jazz couldn’t see him do so. He drifted his fingers along Jazz’s arm, smiling as Jazz squirmed a little under his touch. “Still think we shouldn’t have gone to war with them, in the first place,” Savin grumbled, resting his head against the back of the couch and looking up towards the ceiling. “That was just a giant fucking mess.”
“Tell me about it,” Jazz muttered into Savin’s chest. “I tried to advise my father against going to war -- but the rest of the Council didn’t exactly agree with my stance on things.”
“Ah,” Savin murmured, trailing his fingers up along Jazz’s shoulder. He brushed his fingertips against Jazz’s neck, relishing in how the slight touches continued to make Jazz shiver against him. “I haven’t seen Mitchel around, lately -- I take it that bastard’s given up?” he asked.
Jazz tensed in his arms, his eyes snapping open for a moment. Savin frowned, watching as Jazz seemed to search for the right words. “He -- He seems more focused on making sure I never run the Empire in my father’s absence again, than he does on trying to get back together with me.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Savin said, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. He trailed his fingers back down along the edge of Jazz’s jaw before reaching over with his other hand and tilting Jazz’s chin back. He pressed his lips against Jazz’s own, his own eyes fluttering closed at the contact. They hadn’t really had any time to themselves in the past two weeks, either.
Jazz reacted in kind, his hand cupping Savin’s cheek as he deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue forward through Savin’s parted lips. Savin shivered at that, noticing the way Jazz seemed to be taking more control than usual as he shifted his weight so that he sat in Savin’s lap, straddling him. When Jazz broke apart and began kissing down the length of Savin’s jaw to the front of Savin’s throat, Savin let out of a quiet moan, not quite sure what to do with his hands, other than resting them on Jazz’s hips.
Two weeks. They hadn’t had sex in two weeks, and with the way Jazz’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Savin’s shirt, Savin thought that their anticipation showed. Savin’s hands moved from Jazz’s hips to under the younger man’s shirt, fingers teasing nipples he found out weeks ago were quite sensitive. As Jazz muffled a moan against the skin of Savin’s shoulder, Jazz’s hands had brushed Savin’s shirt aside, his mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses in its wake.
Savin didn’t want to think about how painfully hard he had become in just a few short minutes, his breath already coming in short gasps as Jazz’s mouth continued to move southward. Jazz slipped out of Savin’s lap and onto the floor, kneeling in front of him. Jazz’s fingers hiked under the edge of Savin’s jeans, pulling them and Savin’s boxers off his hips without so much as asking whether it was okay. The way Savin ached, though, and needed to be touched, he wasn’t sure he needed to give Jazz his express permission.
Still, Savin found himself reaching for Jazz’s shoulders as he spread his legs wide in order to allow Jazz to slip between them. Savin’s fingers then found themselves tangled in Jazz’s hair, considering Jazz’s lips were soon pressed against the tip of Savin’s cock. Jazz’s tongue darted along the slit, then moved down Savin’s length. As he teased, Savin found it difficult to keep himself quiet -- or his eyes open.
Jazz’s mouth soon surrounded him, warm and wet and absolutely perfect, teeth tucked behind lips. Savin wanted to tell Jazz that pain was perfectly alright with him -- that he even liked being bitten, just a little bit, but the way Jazz sucked him off was enough for now. He could feel Jazz’s hands slip lower, first squeezing his sac and then teasing the sensitive flesh above Savin’s entrance.
Fingertips then brushed his entrance, teasing along the edge of it and causing Savin to gasp loudly. He rocked against Jazz’s fingers, encouraging him to push inside him. Savin felt Jazz chuckle around him as his mouth slid along his length. He opened his eyes when Jazz suddenly stopped, noticing the teasing smirk on Jazz’s face. “Didn’t take you for much of a bottom...” Jazz breathed against his all too sensitive skin, tongue darting out again to trace along the head of Savin’s cock.
“Prefer to top,” Savin answered, whimpering as a single finger pressed inside him. “But if you wanna top, I’m not gonna -- I’m not gonna stop you.”
“Good,” Jazz growled, pulling his hands away from Savin’s body. “Let’s finish this in my room,” he said, that smirk still on his face. He got up from the floor, tugging his shirt up and over his head as Savin took a moment to collect himself. Savin must have taken too long, because Jazz grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the couch, dragging him back down a lengthy hallway, towards Jazz’s bedroom.
It was at that exact moment that Savin realized he had never been inside Jazz’s bedroom -- that their previous encounter had started and finished on the couch out in the living room. And now as he walked inside it, their difference in lifestyles became all the more apparent. Jazz’s room was sparse, with very little on the walls and the walls painted a plain white color, unlike the rest of the apartment. The bed was large, though, perfect for the both of them, and a stack of books remained on the nightstand.
Savin’s eyes widened slightly as he scanned the titles, a few of them sticking out like thorns amongst the political theory books. He didn’t get a chance to even ask about those odd books, though, as Jazz pushed him down onto the bed, Savin’s face to the mattress. Just as Savin was about to protest, he felt something wet and soft press against his backside, and just like that, the urge left him.
He squirmed and whimpered against Jazz’s sheets, hands grasping whatever they could as Jazz continued to rim him. He ripped his glasses off his face and put them somewhere where they’d be safe and moaned as Jazz’s hands spread his ass even wider, his breath brushing against all too sensitive skin. Skin that hadn’t been teased like that in years. He could hear Jazz chuckle quietly to himself, his tongue continuing to tease Savin open.
After what felt like a pleasurable eternity, Jazz slipped another couple of fingers inside Savin. “You want me to fuck you from behind or from the front...?” Jazz murmured against Savin’s lower back, his fingers rocking in and out of Savin slowly.
“Front,” Savin gasped. “You don’t -- don’t get to take me from behind, just yet,” he said, the teasing note to his voice vanishing as Jazz’s fingers struck against his spot.
“You sure about that, Dr. Bates?” Jazz breathed against his skin. “I think you’d let me take you right now, without lube...”
Savin nearly melted against Jazz, the words causing his cock to jump in excitement. He moaned instead of answering, moving to push himself onto his back as Jazz’s fingers disappeared yet again. “Didn’t know you -- liked to talk dirty, Prince Jasper,” he said, managing to smirk up at Jazz as Jazz procured a bottle of lube from his nightstand.
“There’re lots of things you don’t know about me, yet,” Jazz responded, grinning at Savin as he spread lube along the length of his own cock. Savin had a feeling he was only using the bare minimum, and his own cock ached with need. He shivered as Jazz spread his legs wide open and grabbed Savin’s hips roughly, pulling Savin towards him.
Savin wanted to say he wanted to know everything about him, but the words died on his lips as Jazz thrust inside him, pain causing his whole body to tense around Jazz for a moment. Savin scrunched his face and forced himself to breathe in deeply in an effort to manage the pain. When was the last time he had actually let another man inside of him? When had he last let himself be this vulnerable with anyone, letting them take the lead and dictate how things were going to go?
The answer had to have been almost a decade, now. And with Jazz inside him, he wondered why he didn’t take the initiative like he always did. Why he didn’t stop Jazz from getting this far. Did it really matter that Jazz’s cock now pressed deep inside him -- like only one other man had managed to do, before him?
Savin willed those thoughts away as Jazz moved his hips slowly. He then closed his eyes, yelping in pleasure as Jazz then thrust into him harshly all over again. He writhed underneath the smaller man, nails clawing at sheets and then for Jazz’s hips, pulling him further and deeper inside of him. Savin thought he heard himself pleading for more, for Jazz to fuck him like he’d never fucked anyone, before, for Jazz to move faster, harder.
Except that couldn’t have been him. He prided on himself on never begging. On being the one who did the teasing, one being the one who got others to beg and call his name. Jazz’s lips were on his chest, on his shoulders, his nails digging into Savin’s hips as he pounded him, each thrust definitely harsher than the last, each one slamming into some pleasurable spot deep inside him. After a while it got to be too much, and Savin found himself wrapping a hand around his own length, pleasuring himself as Jazz continued to move in and out of him.
He came just as Jazz’s thrusts grew erratic, Jazz’s own breathing harsh and uneven in Savin’s ear. A moment later, Jazz let out a quiet cry against Savin’s shoulder, teeth digging into flesh as Jazz’s body shuddered to a stop. He then collapsed on top of Savin, both panting, both wrapping their arms around the other, quiet, pleased laughter escaping them both.
“You -- you sure you prefer topping?” Jazz asked, another soft laugh escaping his lips. He nuzzled Savin’s shoulder as he pulled out, settling his weight beside Savin on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you get that loud.”
“Shut up,” Savin muttered, glaring goodnaturedly at Jazz. He tilted Jazz’s chin back, kissing the younger man, their tongues moving in slow, lazy passes against the other’s. “I haven’t -- you’re the second person to -- top me,” he admitted, his face burning, and not from the exertion of their previous activities.
Jazz’s eyes widened, a shy smile spreading across his lips. “I see,” he said, his hand trailing down Savin’s bare chest, only to rest on Savin’s hip. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Savin kissed Jazz again, smiling back at him. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, too,” he teased, pulling Jazz even closer to him. “It’s no fun if we both aren’t enjoying it, y’know?”
“Oh, I enjoyed myself plenty...” Jazz said, smirking at Savin. “Hearing you whimper like that? Shit. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Savin’s face burned again, and he shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He couldn’t contain his grin, though, as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the mattress. “Let’s take a nap,” he suggested, struggling to keep his eyes open as the post-orgasm haze settled over him.
“Okay,” Jazz whispered against his shoulder. “G’night, Savin.”
“G’night, Jazz.”
Savin’s last thought as he drifted off to sleep was how lucky he really was, finding someone like Jazz in a rundown bar off of Main Street. That sort of thing? Simply didn’t happen.
He hoped he’d never wake up from this dream.
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