renaissanceman | (no subject)

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granby

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Priestly's done this so many times now he could practically do it in his sleep, washing up the kitchen, putting pots and pans away, helping drunk patrons out the door and storing all the food. But there's one person he doesn't urge out the door at closing time, and it doesn't feel quite like business as usual, as familiar as all the tasks are.

"Looks like you closed the place down," he says as he hangs the last of the glasses. "Could probably serve you one more, if you like, since there are no actual, you know, liquor laws or anything."

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"I won't force you to stay," says Priestly, in a calm and even voice, "but choices have consequences. I think you're going to make the right one."

There's a part of Granby that really wants to turn around, right then. Maybe it's the Aviator in him, but he really wants to push his luck. He bites his lip and leans his forehead against the wall.

"Yes, Sir."

Priestly doesn't think anyone's ever called him sir before. Not even jokingly. He cups the back of John's neck for a moment, then grazes his fingers down his back and reaches around him to undo his trousers, all without a word.

So Sir wasn't misjudged them. John stands there, head slightly bent, hand against the wall and he stays completely still and Priestly undoes his belt.

Priestly unbuckles, unbuttons and unzips, and pulls them down only to John's ankles, leaving him hobbled by them for the moment.

"Sometimes," he says, face close to his neck, "sometimes I look at you, no matter where you are, and I just want to have you, right then and there, everyone else be damned."

There's a wrongness to it that makes him hot, the thought of being touched in public, when so much of his life has been spent in rooms not entirely unlike this one. He stands there and swallows, trousers around his ankles, feeling very exposed.

"I suppose everyone would have something to say about that."

"If they got a good enough look at you, they'd be cheering me on," says Priestly, wrapping his fingers around John's cock. "But I don't. I just get to look at you. I wait till I can get you alone."

His cheeks colour at the thought of it, which isn't enough to stop him rocking his hips, pushing his cock through the circle of Priestly's fingers, slowly.

"You show amazing..." He lets his breath out like a sigh. "Restraint."

Priestly actually has very poor impulse control, but mostly because he's never tried. For this, it's worth it.

"It's amazing what you can do in a small space," he says. "Imagine if we'd come back here while the bar was still full, so close we could still hear them, with no one the wiser."

There's a definite shiver then where John breathes in. He rolls his hips, pushing through Priestly's fingers. He bites his lip.

"Don't know that you could have kept me quiet."

"I could have found a way, if I needed to," says Priestly, "or maybe I wouldn't have tried. Maybe I would've left it up to you, how much you let them hear, how much you let them wonder."

That definitely makes his cheeks burn - there's something deeply shameful about the idea of being caught doing this, of being seen by anyone but Priestly.

Which is not enough to soften his cock any. He groans softly.

"Good thing they're not here, then."

"Yeah, it is," says Priestly, "because that means right now you're all mine and I can do whatever I want to you and nobody is going to interrupt. Nobody needs to know where my tongue is touching you or where my fingers are going to be, unless you want them to."

"Oh, God."

Priestly told him not to move but John straightens up a little bit, half turning to look at him. "Are you actually going to do any of that or are you just going to talk about it?"

"Well, that depends," says Priestly, pulling his hand a couple of inches away from John's body. "Are you going to stand where I told you to stand, or are you just going to ask me questions?"

He swallows back a moan at the loss of friction, bending his head a little to catch his breath.

"And what're you going to do if I don't?"
His chin's got a very definite tilt to it, but there's a lift to his eyebrow, too. There's a game they're playing here.

"Something else," says Priestly, neither a promise nor a threat, just a fact. "Something other than what you're on the verge of begging me for. And you know you are."

It's extremely difficult to come across as dignified with his trousers around his ankles, but Granby's a Captain in the Aerial Corps and he's used to making do.

He shifts away from the wall, straightening to look Priestly very definitely in the eye.

"Go on, then."

This should not get Priestly that hot, and yet it does. He kind of wants to just lick him right then, but that wouldn't do at all.

"You're gonna be so loud now they will hear you over in the village," says Priestly, pushing him roughly back against the wall and biting the back of his neck as he starts to push his fingers between John's bared cheeks.

He could shrug Priestly off if he wanted to, he knows that, but there's no way in hell that he wants to, right then. His cheek hits the wall and he bites his lip over a groan and, stubbornly, he doesn't shift his hips.

"I really hope you can come like this," says Priestly, rubbing his fingers over John's hole without yet trying to push inside, and breathing hot against his neck, "because I'm not going to be touching your cock again tonight."

There's something so ridiculously intimate about him, the way that Priestly's touching him, his breath against his neck. Granby bites his lip.

"I suppose we'll see."

"Although I promise you'll be getting more than my fingers...eventually," says Priestly, licking from his shoulder to his hairline. "All in good time."

"So it won't be a total disappointment, then," says Granby, keeping his tone light and conversational, despite the fact that it's slightly tight. His hips hitch, pushing back against the rub of Priestly's fingers.

"Believe me, if I did choose to just finger you, it would blow your mind," says Priestly, "and there is nothing about tonight that's going to be a disappointment."