[Elliot tossed the predictably black shirt off to the side. He hadnt been sure of how John would react. The air felt hotter against his skin, breathing a little shorter as he stared at the younger man.
Another moan passed unbidden from Elliot's lips, John's mouth leaving him breathing harder and like his skin was on fire with the pleasure.
He was never going to learn his lesson with Molly.]
You've been thinking about this and you didn't do anything? [a small part of Elliot held back from this. He cared about John... He was so much younger..]
[He laughed against Elliot's skin at the question, resting his forehead against Elliot's chest for a second to answer.]
Sorry? [There was an ironic little twist to his voice.] Apparently I respect you or something. And you're like the only one, so you better appreciate it.
[Despite his mocking tone, he meant those words, and the fact that he had made almost no physical contact with Elliot in all this time probably said as much with what Elliot was learning now. He did respect Elliot, from the moment he realized that Elliot was taking him in without expectation of payback or praise. It had been a totally unselfish gesture, one without pity, and had always stayed that way.
Now he did want to move his mouth lower, though, which meant climbing off Elliot and nudging his legs open to settle between them on his knees. For now, he wasn't taking advantage of the position's classic meaning - he was up on his haunches, hands splayed on Elliot's lower back as he pressed more wet kisses across his abdomen and down to the waistband of his pants.]
[Even though the tone was a bit kocking Elliot did appreciate it even if he didn't get it, not completely. But he honestly wasn't sure he needed to right then and there were other things pulling at his mind, drawing his attention away from thinking.
The main thing was John was on his knees between his legs. It had to be clear enough that he was half hard already. And it felt so good, his hands on the small of his back, lips pressed against his stomach. God, did he want this and it showed in the way his body was wound tight with the tensions of it. Holding back again, though it took all his concentration.]
Why? I don't want to take advantage of you or some shit. [The words were spoken out of fear that wasn't quite inhibited enough in this state.]
[When John got low enough to see the beginning of Elliot's erection pressing against his jeans, he immediately let out a long, shuddering breath.] Fuck... [He sounded half-drunk with arousal, his hand just reaching to touch the bulge when Elliot spoke up again.
All John could do in response was laugh. Laugh and laugh until he finally looked up at Elliot with half-closed lids]
Elliot. If you tried to take advantage of me? I'd fucking kill you.
[He almost always had a cigarette lit, after all. John could do it instantly. So with that cleared up, he finally pressed his palm against the bulge in Elliot's jeans and started to massage it slowly, still looking up at him with that smouldering gaze.]
[The words were a bit sobering, Elliot's eyes widening again. It wasn't really shock or fear. There was just an honesty and seriousness to it. And he knew it was true. John could have killed him at basically any point and he never had.
And now he was between his legs wanting him and Elliot wanted him too. This wasn't bad because he wasn't taking advantage, if anything John was taking advantage of him. He'd after all, told John to do what he wanted. A free pass to anything his teenage hormones could've dreamed up.
He didn't say another word, watching John as he touched him, eyes meeting his. His gaze far more lazy but his desire was just as clear as if the way his dick got harder at the other's attention wasn't evidence enough.]
[He saw the reality settle into Elliot's expression, saw that Elliot absolutely believed him without fearing him, and he could've climbed right back up to give Elliot another fierce kiss if he weren't far more interested in this new diversion. That belief without fear - it felt a lot like respect in turn, but John had only ever known fear or hatred, so he could only guess.
Regardless, it was powerful. An aphrodisiac right now, and likely a source of much stronger ties and emotions when he came down from this high.
What did he want to do? He wanted to tear Elliot's restraint to shreds. Step one was unfastening his absurdly tight jeans; step two was tugging them and his underwear down low enough to free his cock; step three was opening his full lips around it and swallowing it with practiced ease.
Hopefully Elliot wouldn't think too hard about how he got that practice.]
[Elliot couldn't think much as the other pulled his pants and underwear out of the way, his cock springing from it's confines and then what felt like extremely quickly into John's mouth.]
Fuck.
[Elliot exhaled heavily at the intense sensation of the other's mouth on his dick. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten blown while high on molly but it might've been the first time where he'd spent so much time wanting it and not having it before. His hips pressed up slightly, instinctively wanting more of the warm, wet mouth around him.]
[Riding out the movements of Elliot's hips was effortless for John because they were still so restrained and small; he hoped that moving so smoothly with them rather than pinning him down would encourage Elliot to fuck his face harder, since that would just be more evidence that his control was coming apart. His blowjobs were fast and intense, as one might have expected from him, head bobbing rapidly and one hand coming up to cover the rest of the length when he needed to pull up a little to catch his breath - when he did, though, he'd press and curl his tongue so artfully around the most sensitive spots of the head that it didn't feel like like a concession.
He wished he could keep talking to Elliot while he did this, spin out a few other fantasies he'd had, but he was no telepath. Maybe with drugs having helped to break this ice, they could keep this up on a (slightly more) sober basis. It was likely either that or crushing awkwardness would settle between them, and John couldn't bear that thought.]
[There was no preamble to the way John sucked his cock, taking him down quickly over and over again and Elliot couldn't think about anything but the sensory overload. His hands were at his sides, fingers curled into the couch as if trying to ground himself in the moment.
It didn't work.
Every time the other pulled up it wasn't any less intense. His tongue doing things that made Elliot shudder visibly. He didn't know how long it'd been but it felt like John had been sucking his dick for hours and at the same time no time at all. His hips pressed up as the pressure built, thrusting up into that mouth that was so willing to take him.
He was so close. He watched the hypnotic sight of John's lips wrapped around his cock and it was more than he could have imagined it being.]
[Yes. Yes. John moaned around Elliot over and over again as he rode his mouth, feeling him become more frantic and desperate with every thrust. The whole scene was pretty wanton and shameless on John's part - a young, pretty boy with soft features but hard eyes, his hair too long and his body too slim, nearly crying out with pleasure from sucking someone's cock. Pretty lewd.
Pretty intentional, at least in the sense of working with what he had.
It was certainly telling that Elliot didn't touch John during this, hands fisted in the couch padding instead. Was that part of his mind that hadn't fully been made up, or just the sort of habit that came from not touching anyone very often? He still looked a bit like he was fighting against it, but John thought he had done his best. All he could do now was keep up the pace until Elliot finally gave in, which he could tell would be soon.]
[A part of him was holding back. Up until this point nearly everything was things that John had done to him. It felt as if the moment he touched him that would change. Elliot would be the one doing something to John and there was still an instinctual hold against that but it was weak.
It got weaker each time he was buried in the other's mouth, feeling him coming back up again. He moaned again, the sound quiet. The way his hips moved became more erratic and he knew that he was close. So close, whether it was the pinnacle of pleasure to finally feel the other's mouth, to feel some physical connection to something that had been brewing beneath his surface or the drugs but it felt like he wasn't lasting long at all.
He reached for John's hair, his hand going to his length as he pulled him off of his cock. This was the part he was the one doing something to John. He looked at him, his fingers curled in his hair as his hand stroked his length and it barely took that before he was coming, the tip still near his mouth but it'd been intentional to pull out before and to come on him.
He could say that it was because he didn't know if John would want to swallow but a deeper part of him knew that wasn't it.]
[The last thing John was expecting was for Elliot to pull him off his cock like that. He let out a startled, slightly pained choking noise when Elliot's cock slipped from his throat and mouth, eyes wide and a bit wild as he stared up at Elliot in shock, then -
- well. Then it took him a couple of seconds to realize that Elliot had just given him a deliberate facial.
His expression changed plainly when it did dawn on him, wicked amusement lighting his features, and he licked Elliot's come from his lips very slowly before scraping the rest off with a finger and licking that clean as well.
Elliot still had him by the hair, too, he noticed. It made his entire body throb with need.]
You - are so fucking hot - [He didn't think he'd ever forget the way Elliot had stared at him in the moments between positioning him and coming on him. Never. He'd felt stripped all the way down to the bone but not the slightest bit exposed.]
[For a moment, after the pleasure had died away, Elliot thought maybe he'd made a mistake. But the look was unmistakable and the way John licked his come anyway sent a shiver through him. Shit. That'd been hotter than he'd imagined.
Not that he'd imagined anything so detailed anyway. His fingers slid through the other's hair, staring at him, eyes moving quickly in that unique way he had as he studied every detail about him before his hand slid out of his hair.]
Yeah.
[A quirk of a smile before he looked down at the other's crotch, knowing he had to be achingly hard.]
[Yeah. Jesus Christ. If John's laugh at that had been a fraction higher pitched, it would've been a giggle. Elliot may have been figuring John out slowly as they continued to share this space, but he was still a near-complete mystery. That was part of what made him so unbearably alluring.
John stood up and straightened out his legs to stretch them, then took off his own pants and underwear. Not his shirt: there was very, very little that made him self-conscious, but his height and the sunken, hollow look of his chest and abdomen were among those things. The latter had gotten a bit better while he'd been living here, but his metabolism would never be quite right after being near-starving for five years.
If Elliot moved to take it off, he'd let him, but he wasn't volunteering it. He just got back into Elliot's lap, cock hard and flushed between them, and smirked at him; one hand caught his right arm by the wrist, holding his hand up so he could press his own palm to palm against it, his fingers so much shorter than Elliot's. He really fucking loved Elliot's hands, maybe because he was so often typing at the speed of light, which really showed off how slender and nimble his fingers were.]
Now, I wanna feel your hands on me. Not just my hair.
[Elliot's eyes took in the other stripping off his clothes, all but his shirt. He didn't say anything and he wouldn't move to take it off either. There was no need to as the other climbed back into his lap, pressing close to him. He could feel the hard heat against his skin but his eyes met John's resisting the urge to look down at him.
He looked where their hands connected when John grabbed his, only a moment of unease passing through him at the touch. There was a softness to that feeling their palms pressed against each other, his stomach twisted a little and he wasn't sure why. He didn't really have time to think about it.
John'd made it clear what he wanted and after how good he'd made Elliot feel, Elliot was fully intent to return that favor.]
Okay.
[It wasn't necessary to say but the word came out because that was the way Elliot was, leveling his consent to things out loud, acknowledging and questioning mundane and accepting the less so.
His hand slid away from the other's and wrapped around his length, stroking once. Elliot's free hand wrapped around john's hip, gripping firm as he started to find a rhythm, searching for the best response.
It was John, so he figured fast, somewhat hard was what he'd like.]
Oh god... [John shuddered as soon as Elliot took hold of him, and he was about to rock his hips into it when the other hand came down to hold him in place. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be restrictive or not, but something about the idea was so appealing that he chose to stay still as though it was; he wouldn't have thought that he'd ever like to be held down, but apparently he'd let Elliot do it.
So, so far gone.]
God, shit, yeah... [It probably wasn't that surprising that John should be so vocal, his muttered curses and nonsense encouragement rising in intensity as Elliot pumped him harder. He dropped forward when his body started to shiver under the waves of pleasure, arms looping around Elliot's shoulders and face pressing into his neck. The layered impacts of waiting so long, serving Elliot first, and the drugs were hitting him hard as well.] ... that's good, that's fucking good...
[Elliot hadn't meant it to be restrictive and he didn't notice that that might be how anyone would take it. He just wanted to get a firm hold on him, feel the flesh there. John felt even smaller like this, on his lap, his hand wrapped around his hip.
He felt a smile tugging at his lips again when the other responded to his touch so vocally. He liked it, more than he would have thought he would, stroking quickly over his length, searching for the ways he could twist his hand or swipe his thumb that would make his body shiver more, make him moan louder against his neck.
The hand on his hip slid further back cupping his ass and squeezing as he did the same not quite so firm to the cock in his hand]
You're good.
[He wasn't sure why he said it. The words slipping out amidst the other's pleasured encouragements.]
[Even without the impact of being brought full speed ahead toward orgasm, John thought that he'd never liked Elliot as much as he did on this evening. That might not have been fair when they were both flying high, but Elliot was joking with him, saying some things that were almost fond, and it made him flush with something quite aside from arousal.
And oh, Elliot's hands were just as deft as they looked on his keyboard, wringing John's moans into whimpers with the firm grip on his ass and the careful, quick touches on his cock. He couldn't even find words anymore, just incoherent noises and gasps, his hips rocking frantically with the rhythm of Elliot's hand now that he no longer had a reason to keep still.
His mind started to wander, then, with the possibility of things like this happening again. Would Elliot scratch? Would he bite? Would he want to fuck John or be fucked? Would he hold John down, fingertips pressing bruises into his skin? All the ideas cycling through his head brought him closer and closer, but the last - Elliot leaving bruises on him - finally made him jerk hard into Elliot's grip and come with a strangled cry. That was probably fucked up, but he wasn't thinking about it too much when he slumped against Elliot's chest in a bizarre imitation of an embrace, his whole body heaving as he tried to catch his breath.]
[Elliot found himself wondering what the other was thinking as he jerked him off. Was he thinking at all? He moaned enough, small sounds that were nearly enough to get him hart again. He never stopped, working him to that release and then stroking him through it, his thoughts never stopped either.
But he didn't really have a clue where to begin on what the other was thinking. He hadn't hacked him. He didn't think he knew him at all, not really. Not the way he usually knew people. There was something disconcerting about that.
Elliot's hand slid up from the other's ass to his lower back, fingers collecting the other's come, much like he had done with his though that'd been on his face and he brought his fingers to his lip, a small satisfied sound as he tasted him like that.]
[John's eyes were massive in his face, still all pupil and no iris, as he sat up and watched Elliot lick his fingers clean. Turnabout was fair play and all that, but feeling such a strong jolt of arousal right after he'd come made him jerk in a more uncomfortable way, his entire body oversensitive and overstimulated.]
Holy... [Shit? Fuck? Crap? He never finished that thought. Instead, he just gave Elliot a slow, drowsy kiss, more affection leaking into it than he intended. His arms were still loosely draped around Elliot's shoulders, the entire moment much too open and vulnerable, which he would likely notice once the afterglow had worn off.]
[Elliot's hand went back to John's hip, kissing him back. This felt weird, weirder than anything else. It was a warm and affectionate kiss. It wasn't quiet like those others that they had shared. There was something intimate about it that startled Elliot.]
Tired? [He murmured against his lips, the fingers of his hand not on his hip moved back into his hair again in a gentle stroke.]
[When Elliot spoke up, John came back to himself a little, sitting up and forcing his mind to think past the haze of euphoria he'd been drifting through for so long thanks to Molly and arousal. He pulled his arms out of the embrace a little too quickly, a guarded expression slipping over his features.
If Elliot hadn't said anything, John probably could've had a little nap right there on his chest and woken up ready to party. That's how deeply entranced he'd been by everything that happened. Jesus Christ, Molly was not something to fuck with, and the effects weren't showing any signs of slowing down - he was just keenly enough aware of them to push back, at last. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed the strangeness of this dazed bliss for so long.]
Holy shit. [There was the end of his thought, but this time it was said abruptly, not in a dreamy murmur.] I'm... really fucked up. Really fucked up.
[The way he climbed off Elliot's lap was almost cautious. Dropping back onto the couch, he scrubbed a hand vigorously over his face; he wasn't so much unsettled by what had just happened as he was by the idea that he might have revealed a lot to an equally fucked up - possibly enough to have done something he wouldn't normally - Elliot.]
The way John pulled back so quickly, and just as quickly it felt like and he was off of his lap. Elliot frowned but he turned his head away from John. Was he already regretting what they'd done? There's no way he was even completely sober yet.
Elliot knew he wasn't sober yet and that meant John definitely wasn't. So John must regret it. He quickly moved to fix his pants and underwear before grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, his normal twitchiness starting to come back with how fast his thoughts were starting to fly. He'd fucked around with someone who was basically still a kid and now that kid regretted it.
It was Elliot's fault -- never mind John had started it all.]
Fuck... yeah... [He paused, rubbing his fingers over his hair and then walking further away from the couch which suddenly felt like a crime scene.] Sorry.
[No, god, that wasn't what he meant. He could see how it looked and sounded that way now, but it wasn't at all what he meant. It was impossible to think clearly, and it felt like trying to move in quicksand, the way it got more difficult the more he concentrated.
He leaped up from the couch to step in front of Elliot, almost placing a hand on his chest to stop him but choosing to let his position speak for itself.]
Not what I meant. There's nothing to be sorry for. You still didn't take advantage of me.
[Elliot's mouth felt dry. That wasn't what he was most worried about really. But do you regret it? Why was he worried about that? It'd already happened. What did it matter really?
He nodded, though, turning away from him as he exhaled smoke.] Yeah.
Okay. [The affects of the molly had died down enough that without direct stimulation it was easy to discard them, his walls and giant moat around himself starting to going back into place.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
viewsource) wrote2020-08-02 06:05 pm
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Another moan passed unbidden from Elliot's lips, John's mouth leaving him breathing harder and like his skin was on fire with the pleasure.
He was never going to learn his lesson with Molly.]
You've been thinking about this and you didn't do anything? [a small part of Elliot held back from this. He cared about John... He was so much younger..]
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Sorry? [There was an ironic little twist to his voice.] Apparently I respect you or something. And you're like the only one, so you better appreciate it.
[Despite his mocking tone, he meant those words, and the fact that he had made almost no physical contact with Elliot in all this time probably said as much with what Elliot was learning now. He did respect Elliot, from the moment he realized that Elliot was taking him in without expectation of payback or praise. It had been a totally unselfish gesture, one without pity, and had always stayed that way.
Now he did want to move his mouth lower, though, which meant climbing off Elliot and nudging his legs open to settle between them on his knees. For now, he wasn't taking advantage of the position's classic meaning - he was up on his haunches, hands splayed on Elliot's lower back as he pressed more wet kisses across his abdomen and down to the waistband of his pants.]
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The main thing was John was on his knees between his legs. It had to be clear enough that he was half hard already. And it felt so good, his hands on the small of his back, lips pressed against his stomach. God, did he want this and it showed in the way his body was wound tight with the tensions of it. Holding back again, though it took all his concentration.]
Why? I don't want to take advantage of you or some shit. [The words were spoken out of fear that wasn't quite inhibited enough in this state.]
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All John could do in response was laugh. Laugh and laugh until he finally looked up at Elliot with half-closed lids]
Elliot. If you tried to take advantage of me? I'd fucking kill you.
[He almost always had a cigarette lit, after all. John could do it instantly. So with that cleared up, he finally pressed his palm against the bulge in Elliot's jeans and started to massage it slowly, still looking up at him with that smouldering gaze.]
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And now he was between his legs wanting him and Elliot wanted him too. This wasn't bad because he wasn't taking advantage, if anything John was taking advantage of him. He'd after all, told John to do what he wanted. A free pass to anything his teenage hormones could've dreamed up.
He didn't say another word, watching John as he touched him, eyes meeting his. His gaze far more lazy but his desire was just as clear as if the way his dick got harder at the other's attention wasn't evidence enough.]
What do you want to do now?
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Regardless, it was powerful. An aphrodisiac right now, and likely a source of much stronger ties and emotions when he came down from this high.
What did he want to do? He wanted to tear Elliot's restraint to shreds. Step one was unfastening his absurdly tight jeans; step two was tugging them and his underwear down low enough to free his cock; step three was opening his full lips around it and swallowing it with practiced ease.
Hopefully Elliot wouldn't think too hard about how he got that practice.]
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Fuck.
[Elliot exhaled heavily at the intense sensation of the other's mouth on his dick. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten blown while high on molly but it might've been the first time where he'd spent so much time wanting it and not having it before. His hips pressed up slightly, instinctively wanting more of the warm, wet mouth around him.]
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He wished he could keep talking to Elliot while he did this, spin out a few other fantasies he'd had, but he was no telepath. Maybe with drugs having helped to break this ice, they could keep this up on a (slightly more) sober basis. It was likely either that or crushing awkwardness would settle between them, and John couldn't bear that thought.]
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It didn't work.
Every time the other pulled up it wasn't any less intense. His tongue doing things that made Elliot shudder visibly. He didn't know how long it'd been but it felt like John had been sucking his dick for hours and at the same time no time at all. His hips pressed up as the pressure built, thrusting up into that mouth that was so willing to take him.
He was so close. He watched the hypnotic sight of John's lips wrapped around his cock and it was more than he could have imagined it being.]
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Pretty intentional, at least in the sense of working with what he had.
It was certainly telling that Elliot didn't touch John during this, hands fisted in the couch padding instead. Was that part of his mind that hadn't fully been made up, or just the sort of habit that came from not touching anyone very often? He still looked a bit like he was fighting against it, but John thought he had done his best. All he could do now was keep up the pace until Elliot finally gave in, which he could tell would be soon.]
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It got weaker each time he was buried in the other's mouth, feeling him coming back up again. He moaned again, the sound quiet. The way his hips moved became more erratic and he knew that he was close. So close, whether it was the pinnacle of pleasure to finally feel the other's mouth, to feel some physical connection to something that had been brewing beneath his surface or the drugs but it felt like he wasn't lasting long at all.
He reached for John's hair, his hand going to his length as he pulled him off of his cock. This was the part he was the one doing something to John. He looked at him, his fingers curled in his hair as his hand stroked his length and it barely took that before he was coming, the tip still near his mouth but it'd been intentional to pull out before and to come on him.
He could say that it was because he didn't know if John would want to swallow but a deeper part of him knew that wasn't it.]
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- well. Then it took him a couple of seconds to realize that Elliot had just given him a deliberate facial.
His expression changed plainly when it did dawn on him, wicked amusement lighting his features, and he licked Elliot's come from his lips very slowly before scraping the rest off with a finger and licking that clean as well.
Elliot still had him by the hair, too, he noticed. It made his entire body throb with need.]
You - are so fucking hot - [He didn't think he'd ever forget the way Elliot had stared at him in the moments between positioning him and coming on him. Never. He'd felt stripped all the way down to the bone but not the slightest bit exposed.]
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Not that he'd imagined anything so detailed anyway. His fingers slid through the other's hair, staring at him, eyes moving quickly in that unique way he had as he studied every detail about him before his hand slid out of his hair.]
Yeah.
[A quirk of a smile before he looked down at the other's crotch, knowing he had to be achingly hard.]
What do you want now?
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John stood up and straightened out his legs to stretch them, then took off his own pants and underwear. Not his shirt: there was very, very little that made him self-conscious, but his height and the sunken, hollow look of his chest and abdomen were among those things. The latter had gotten a bit better while he'd been living here, but his metabolism would never be quite right after being near-starving for five years.
If Elliot moved to take it off, he'd let him, but he wasn't volunteering it. He just got back into Elliot's lap, cock hard and flushed between them, and smirked at him; one hand caught his right arm by the wrist, holding his hand up so he could press his own palm to palm against it, his fingers so much shorter than Elliot's. He really fucking loved Elliot's hands, maybe because he was so often typing at the speed of light, which really showed off how slender and nimble his fingers were.]
Now, I wanna feel your hands on me. Not just my hair.
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He looked where their hands connected when John grabbed his, only a moment of unease passing through him at the touch. There was a softness to that feeling their palms pressed against each other, his stomach twisted a little and he wasn't sure why. He didn't really have time to think about it.
John'd made it clear what he wanted and after how good he'd made Elliot feel, Elliot was fully intent to return that favor.]
Okay.
[It wasn't necessary to say but the word came out because that was the way Elliot was, leveling his consent to things out loud, acknowledging and questioning mundane and accepting the less so.
His hand slid away from the other's and wrapped around his length, stroking once. Elliot's free hand wrapped around john's hip, gripping firm as he started to find a rhythm, searching for the best response.
It was John, so he figured fast, somewhat hard was what he'd like.]
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So, so far gone.]
God, shit, yeah... [It probably wasn't that surprising that John should be so vocal, his muttered curses and nonsense encouragement rising in intensity as Elliot pumped him harder. He dropped forward when his body started to shiver under the waves of pleasure, arms looping around Elliot's shoulders and face pressing into his neck. The layered impacts of waiting so long, serving Elliot first, and the drugs were hitting him hard as well.] ... that's good, that's fucking good...
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He felt a smile tugging at his lips again when the other responded to his touch so vocally. He liked it, more than he would have thought he would, stroking quickly over his length, searching for the ways he could twist his hand or swipe his thumb that would make his body shiver more, make him moan louder against his neck.
The hand on his hip slid further back cupping his ass and squeezing as he did the same not quite so firm to the cock in his hand]
You're good.
[He wasn't sure why he said it. The words slipping out amidst the other's pleasured encouragements.]
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And oh, Elliot's hands were just as deft as they looked on his keyboard, wringing John's moans into whimpers with the firm grip on his ass and the careful, quick touches on his cock. He couldn't even find words anymore, just incoherent noises and gasps, his hips rocking frantically with the rhythm of Elliot's hand now that he no longer had a reason to keep still.
His mind started to wander, then, with the possibility of things like this happening again. Would Elliot scratch? Would he bite? Would he want to fuck John or be fucked? Would he hold John down, fingertips pressing bruises into his skin? All the ideas cycling through his head brought him closer and closer, but the last - Elliot leaving bruises on him - finally made him jerk hard into Elliot's grip and come with a strangled cry. That was probably fucked up, but he wasn't thinking about it too much when he slumped against Elliot's chest in a bizarre imitation of an embrace, his whole body heaving as he tried to catch his breath.]
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But he didn't really have a clue where to begin on what the other was thinking. He hadn't hacked him. He didn't think he knew him at all, not really. Not the way he usually knew people. There was something disconcerting about that.
Elliot's hand slid up from the other's ass to his lower back, fingers collecting the other's come, much like he had done with his though that'd been on his face and he brought his fingers to his lip, a small satisfied sound as he tasted him like that.]
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Holy... [Shit? Fuck? Crap? He never finished that thought. Instead, he just gave Elliot a slow, drowsy kiss, more affection leaking into it than he intended. His arms were still loosely draped around Elliot's shoulders, the entire moment much too open and vulnerable, which he would likely notice once the afterglow had worn off.]
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Tired? [He murmured against his lips, the fingers of his hand not on his hip moved back into his hair again in a gentle stroke.]
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If Elliot hadn't said anything, John probably could've had a little nap right there on his chest and woken up ready to party. That's how deeply entranced he'd been by everything that happened. Jesus Christ, Molly was not something to fuck with, and the effects weren't showing any signs of slowing down - he was just keenly enough aware of them to push back, at last. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed the strangeness of this dazed bliss for so long.]
Holy shit. [There was the end of his thought, but this time it was said abruptly, not in a dreamy murmur.] I'm... really fucked up. Really fucked up.
[The way he climbed off Elliot's lap was almost cautious. Dropping back onto the couch, he scrubbed a hand vigorously over his face; he wasn't so much unsettled by what had just happened as he was by the idea that he might have revealed a lot to an equally fucked up - possibly enough to have done something he wouldn't normally - Elliot.]
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The way John pulled back so quickly, and just as quickly it felt like and he was off of his lap. Elliot frowned but he turned his head away from John. Was he already regretting what they'd done? There's no way he was even completely sober yet.
Elliot knew he wasn't sober yet and that meant John definitely wasn't. So John must regret it. He quickly moved to fix his pants and underwear before grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, his normal twitchiness starting to come back with how fast his thoughts were starting to fly. He'd fucked around with someone who was basically still a kid and now that kid regretted it.
It was Elliot's fault -- never mind John had started it all.]
Fuck... yeah... [He paused, rubbing his fingers over his hair and then walking further away from the couch which suddenly felt like a crime scene.] Sorry.
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[No, god, that wasn't what he meant. He could see how it looked and sounded that way now, but it wasn't at all what he meant. It was impossible to think clearly, and it felt like trying to move in quicksand, the way it got more difficult the more he concentrated.
He leaped up from the couch to step in front of Elliot, almost placing a hand on his chest to stop him but choosing to let his position speak for itself.]
Not what I meant. There's nothing to be sorry for. You still didn't take advantage of me.
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He nodded, though, turning away from him as he exhaled smoke.] Yeah.
Okay. [The affects of the molly had died down enough that without direct stimulation it was easy to discard them, his walls and giant moat around himself starting to going back into place.]
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