fuckingtragedy | TFLN OVERFLOW

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TFLN OVERFLOW

[Placeholder for appropriate fanart/meme when I find it]

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[Baz has no idea that such an back-and-forth is occurring behind closed doors. In fact, all he cares about right now is making Simon feel good and safe. When the pause continues, though, Baz wonders if he's done something wrong, if by suggesting the couch, he's ruined this chance to love and be loved.

But he has no time at all to dwell on that because Simon lifts him, hefts him from the ground to kiss him. Baz can't really complain because *he's kissing Simon Snow.*. Baz curls his arms about Simon's shoulders, grateful for Simon's time in the gym because *Circe* the muscles working beneath his arms are absolutely sinful.

The couch interrupts some of that, Baz realizes, but being at the couch also means that he can back to sucking Simon's cock.]

I was planning to. [Unless you pushed me away, goes unsaid as Baz slides down Simon's body and nudges his legs apart to give him room to resume his work.] Did you think I wouldn't?

[Actually, maybe, don't answer that because Baz is once more sliding his mouth onto Simon's cock, smooth and covering the head with his lips.]

[ Simon is really starting to grasp -- finally, viscerally -- what he's been missing with all this.

Not just the pleasure (which is incredible, lest he try to downplay the way it's saturating him right to his core), but everything else that goes along with it. Baz's eagerness, the kisses he bestows without mercy, how easily he falls against Simon and how quickly he slides to his knees, and the breath he unapologetically steals when his lips wrap snug around Simon's cock. It's never felt like this. Not with Agatha, not with Smith. And with a sudden shock of clarity, Simon understands why.

It's different when it means something. When he knows how Baz's lips look wrapped around his cock and around I love you's both. It's better when he can look Baz in the eye and see his own pain reflected back at him. Because it means they're moving past it, that they're here, together, despite everything. And that?

Simon doesn't bother to stifle the deep groan that escapes him when he sinks a hand into Baz's hair. ]

No... Just-- Fuck, Baz...

[Simon has his hands in Baz's hair and the world is his oyster. He dreamed of this moment too many times in Las Vegas, too many times waking with awkward boners and no one to talk to about it. To finally be here is amazing. His name on Simon's lips and no one else's in this moment is only the cherry on top. Licking his lips, Baz slides back down onto Simon's cock and gets back to work.

He sucks and pulls at Simon's organ, attempting to inch his way the rest of the way down, but Simon is massive. With practice, this would be easier, but on the first night, after not weeks of not sucking anyone's cock, he doubted his ability to swallow all that girth in one go. So, he brings up his hands for help, stroking what he can't quite fit in his throat.

There is one advantage he has from his limited experience at least, one tool in his toolbox he's willing to pull out. One of his hands slides beneath Simon, fingers curled around his balls and gently massages before squeezing.]

[ Baz has more than just experience working in his favor.

Simon is starting to realize things about himself that weren't evident until this moment. Things that couldn't have been evident, but for the fact that Baz is finally the one on his knees for Simon. Because it's never felt like this. Simon might not have a breadth of experience, but he has enough that he can differentiate this from everyone else who's been in Baz's position.

The only conclusion he can reach, while the pleasure is pulling him through himself with every drag of Baz's lips and hands, is that it's different when he loves someone. Better -- infinitely so -- when there are feelings invested. And he certainly hasn't spoken on the topic of sexual relations at length with anyone, so he can't possibly know whether that's a normal phenomenon or it's just some twist in his own psyche. But is this how it is? How it's supposed to be? Is this--? But what he does know, beyond the shadow of any doubt, is that he never wants to go without this again.

Simon's not shy about his appreciation. Normally, he would close his eyes and tip his head back, losing himself in the sensation until it all ended. But with Baz, he can't look away. Baz looks so good with Simon's cock in his mouth -- in his hands, stroking while he disappears over and over again between Baz's greedy lips -- and Simon's gaze is fixed. He groans deeply with every stroke, can't help pushing his cock deeper into Baz's mouth now and again, longing to sink wholly into the pleasure that feels like it's searing him down to his marrow. He can't last, won't last, didn't stand a fucking chance once Baz got his mouth right where Simon's always needed it, and-- ]

Baz, wait... I'm--

[ It breaks like nothing he's ever felt. It shakes him to his core and hits him like a supernova. He cries out, shaking hard through the peak and the crash, spilling hot and thick into Baz's mouth while his vision goes white. ]

[Baz doesn’t hesitate in bracing himself to swallow. He backs a couple inches back in order to catch every last thick, gooey drop on his tongue. Baz savors it with a grin before swallowing down every last bit of come and popping off Simon’s cock, licking his lips. What a delicious feast, and only for him. Luckily, his fangs don’t pop, leaving him free to lean up and steal a kiss. He keeps the kiss brief—- his jaw is sore—- and sits back on his heels to rub Simon’s knees.

He never thought he’d ever get this opportunity when he left for Las Vegas, but now he’s here, staring up at Simon, come in his throat, and the word ‘love’ shared between them.]

I love you, Simon.

[His expression is so, so fond as he regards his beloved, as he nuzzles his knee fondly.]

[ Simon's still drifting in the afterglow when Baz leans up to kiss him. He can taste himself on Baz's lips, all bitter salt, and it makes him run hot in a wholly unfamiliar way. Like a tangible reminder. Evidence that he'd just been between Baz's lips, and it lingers there on his own tongue. It's incredible. Simon very nearly chases it, but--

Then Baz leans back, says he loves Simon, and there's more of that permeating warmth filling him up again. ]

I love you too, Baz.

[ It comes so easily now. Why had it been so hard before?

Simon's still hanging out of his pants. He should probably rectify that, but he won't. There are more important things to attend to right now. Like Baz. Simon leans forward quickly, stealing a kiss while he gets his arms around Baz's waist and makes to haul him up onto the couch before he can think to protest. ]

Come up here and lie back. Let me return the favor.

[Seeing such satisfaction on Simon's face lights up Baz's senses in a way he would never have expected. He remembers all too well how their past, how a messy tumble would go from unexpectedly intense to cold in seconds, but this-- seeing Simon finally able to let go and come in his mouth like this-- is everything he could have ever wanted and more. Baz is smirking, his hands on Simon's thighs, slowly rubbing them to help Simon return to reality, when Simon reaches down for him. Strong arms encircle Simon's waist and haul him up onto the couch, but before Baz can lay back, he shifts instead into Simon's lap.]

Don't need you to return anything. [He hums against Simon's lips.] Not unless you want to. 's not a tennis match, Simon.

[If nothing else, Baz has learned this much with Lamb: that the bedroom is not all about giving back right away. Some nights Lamb got off more, some nights Baz did, but thinking about returning and giving have driven Baz mad early on and Lamb let him work as he wished, to let the natural ebb and flow of their desires control the bedroom.]

'd rather have that monster right up inside me, but you probably need a few minutes.

[He doesn't mean it in a disparaging way as he kisses along Simon's cheek and down his jaw; he simply doesn't want to rush Simon into anything if he needs a natural refractory window.]

Maybe I could describe it. How you'd pull my hair as you pound it into me.

[Fuck, this is not helping Baz's erection in the slightest, but maybe it's expressing to Simon just how much he wants him when he's ready.] I'd be sore for days because you'd have me by the hips, wrenching me down against you again and again as if I weigh nothing. I'd go back to Vegas with a fucking limp for how well you've fucked me, Simon.

[And then he pauses, looking down into Simon's eyes to see if he's on the same page.]

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