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Mar 21, 2019 10:02 AM
sky/jean lemon dl;dr
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He's rewarded, somewhat, for his efforts – Sky's hips stutter and he moans a little louder and his face ends up buried in Jean's neck.

He makes the same little noise as always when he's close.

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"Oh -- oh..."

He's just trying, now, to shift so it hurts him, so it isn't too good, so he can bear it moment by moment.

"Please ... please, oh, please ... please Sky come for me..."

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From the noise he makes into Jean's shoulder, the broken little whine of frustration, he's just stopped himself right on the edge.

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Oh no.

Oh no he hasn't even been good enough for -- "please, Sky, please... please I want you so much..."

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"You said for you–"

He shudders, rolls his hips a little in spite of himself.

"Tell me. Tell me how that's a slave's thing to say. So I can come."

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He struggles and struggles and struggles for words, losing them to the motion of Sky's hips.

 

 

"I," he manages, finally, fingernails pressed into his palms as he tries to concentrate, "can't. Come."

"Please. You instead. For me."

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Oh. That does it.

He pumps his hips twice more and whimpers into Jean's shoulder and comes.

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It's so fucking good.

He's left crying and aching and dripping, falling apart and gasping nonsense intermingled with thank you, thank you, love you.

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"Good," he breathes, "good," and his voice is trembling just like his body and his arms have wrapped around Jean by themselves.

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He's good. He's good; that's all that matters; nothing else could possibly matter.

He moans, very softly, and clings to Sky.

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...he's warm. And soft. And very good.

 

Sky is dozing a little again.

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It is very hard to be paid no mind to, right now, but Jean will be good for him anyway. He will be so, so good.

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Occasionally Sky nuzzles his neck, gives him a sleepy little kiss on whatever skin happens to be in front of his lips.

He'll have thoughts again in a minute. Just a minute.

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That is very good. It is not enough but, by design, nothing he can have is enough right now.

He is here for Sky to hold and nuzzle and that is the important thing.

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Eventually, he blinks up at him drowsily.

"...c'n you move?"

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He considers this.

"Think so."

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"Get the trash out of here and then come back to me."

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"Yes, Sky."

He limps, a little, leaning on the wall for support, and it takes him longer than it usually would.

When he returns, he hesitates by the bed, uncertain of his welcome.

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He reaches out without opening his eyes.

"Here."

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Oh good. Snuggles.

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"...mine."

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"Yours."

(Teeny tiny squirm.)

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He laughs, softly and sleepily.

"Aaalways."

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Oh he's so pretty when he laughs.

"Always and forever. Thank you, Sky."

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"Mmhmm."

A little kiss on the top of his head, and he snuggles up even closer.

Sleeping might just stick, this time.

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