They sat, Finn still across Nathan’s legs, losing each other in kisses and moans and every so often whispered words.
“How long?” Finn prompted.
“How long what?”
“How long have you wanted to make me scream?” Finn smirked as he asked and Nathan sighed knowing Finn wouldn’t leave it until he got an answer.
“Since I watched you and Andrew,” He tailed off using his hand to indicate, etc.
“Hmmm,” Finn replied knowingly. Leaning down and capturing Nathan lips in a soft kiss, his tongue darting in to taste him, soft sighs of completion mingling between them.
“And you?” Nathan prompted smiling
“Since the day I fixed it so I would be your mentor,” Nathan’s eyes widened, and then he relaxed, with a laugh.
“You did that?”
“Well, Andrew wanted you, said he’d looked your file over and saw your potential. Remember him? Andrew Barclay.”
“Ex-boyfriend Andrew?”
“Casual fucks Andrew.”
“Mmmm, well I for one am glad you managed to fix it, despite now knowing you were just after my brains.”
“What else is there?” Finn smirked, dropping a kiss against Nathan’s neck, biting and sucking at the heated skin causing Nathan to squirm. Suddenly the urge to mark Nathan became an overwhelming need and he bit and sucked harder, knowing the blood would rise to the surface and bloom into a sign of possession, Finn groaned as Nathan arched into the pain, the Chinese food long forgotten, the coding a distant memory.
“Fuck Finn,” Nathan forced out, dragging Finn’s face to his. ”I need to touch, can I touch you?” Finn rose a little in Nathan’s lap in answer and Nathan fought to open snug jeans, desperate to get his hands on Finn.
He was wet from earlier, wet and hard, and hot, so hot, and Nathan grasped the heat and the length and twisted and pulled and grew impossibly hard against the seam of his jeans. They sat that way for seconds, minutes, Finn riding the incredible need that was consuming his every thought until it became imperative that he’d his hands on Nathan, that he touched Nathan, tasted him.
Tearing his lips from Nathan’s he forced out words of need and desire. ”Nathan, please, I need to see you, let me see you.”
“Fuck Finn, stand up,” and then laughing and struggling they managed to stand and helped each to removed clothes until they stood naked opposite each other. Nathan could feel his mouth watering with a need to taste Finn, a desire so sharp it was like a fist to the stomach and in seconds he was there.
Pushing Finn back to the bed, sitting him down and then dropping to his knees between Finn’s spread legs finally where he wanted to be. For a while, he touched and discovered and each noise of appreciation he made echoed in Finn’s moans. ”Your mouth on me,” Finn managed to force out and almost whined when Nathan closed his lips around him, lips and teeth and tongue as he swallowed the length, hollowing his cheeks, sucking him down. On the bed, Finn curved over Nathan pushing hands into his long soft hair, tangling the hair into sharp points of pain that went straight to Nathan’s dick.
So close, I’m so close, no, want you, up here, need you, with me
“Nate,” was all he managed to say, all he managed to squeeze out, using his hands in Nathan’s hair to pull him off and up, forcing him to climb Finn’s body and lay them both back on the bed. Still not removing his hands, knowing it must hurt he pulled Nathan’s face to his, catching his mouth in a bruising kiss, lips and tongues fighting for feeling, for dominance.
Their groins aligned, dicks sliding hard against each other, a sudden dark heat as they found a rhythm. Nathan’s hands dug into Finn’s hips where he knew he would leave bruises, making his own mark.
Moving one hand, Nathan closed it around both of them, jacking them slowly, swallowing gasps and moans and want-more-now into shared breaths.
Finn lost it first, his fingers a punishing, tightening grasp in Nathan’s hair, coming hard and hot between them, with Nathan not far behind, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and falling over the edge with a muffled cry.
They lay still, wrapped in each other, as Finn carefully extricated his loose hands from Nathan’s floppy mop of chestnut hair, both breathing heavily, unwilling to move.
“Fuck,” was all Finn could say; Nathan had lost the power of rational speech entirely and just pushed into Finn’s neck kissing softly at the bruises he’d made and willing his breathing to slow down.
Life was good.
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