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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When Priestly comes, he's pressed almost flush against the wall, cheek and chest and the palm of his hand. He feels completely hot and completely owned. When Priestly pulls out of him, he groans softly.

But he stays still.

When Priestly's done he leaves his pants off and leans in against John's back again, one hand resting gently on his abdomen under his shirt and his lips nearly against his neck again.

"So," he says, and kisses him lightly. "I feel like I should make us something to eat now."

"You want me to eat after that?" says John, huffing a laugh, boneless and content now, sinking into the feeling of Priestly's possessive touch.

"You're saying you haven't worked up an appetite?" says Priestly, grinning against his skin and trailing his fingers up and down. "Maybe I didn't try hard enough."

"I'm saying I'm ruined - I couldn't possibly eat," he says, grinning as he shifts slightly under that light touch.

"You tried plenty hard enough."

"Maybe next time I'll even touch you, if you're very good," says Priestly, kissing the other side of his neck, "because I'm very good at touching."

"I believe it," breathes Granby, essentially still pinned against the wall. "But what do you define as being good?"

"Oh, I don't know," says Priestly, his hand still drifting over John's skin. "Do you think you're getting any better at doing what you're told?

"What do you think?" asks Granby, shifting his hips, pushing into the touch. "Because I? Strongly doubt it."

Priestly laughs, breathy against John's skin, then he moves until his back's resting against the wall that John's facing, shoulder to shoulder with him, his fingers still resting against John's abdomen.

"No, I don't think so either," he says. "I guess I'll have to come up with some other incentives...or punishments."

He's still got his weight propped up against the wall, breathing more or less back to normal, sinking into the feeling of Priestly's hand on his skin.

"Punishments, huh?"

"That might not be the word I'm looking for," admits Priestly, finally able to slide over a little and kiss John on the mouth again. "Not when you like them so much."

"Discipline," he says, leaning into the kiss a little. "I'm a military man - understandable that I'd...rise to a little discipline."

His eyebrow quirks.

"Oh, would you now," says Priestly, leaning back against the wall again, his other hand tucked behind the small of his back now as he relaxes. He certainly can't disagree. "Are you saying I should have made you clean up with your tongue?"

A slight, but definite shudder goes down Granby's spine. His smile doesn't go anywhere.

"Well...that would be a first."

Priestly takes a moment to finally strip off his shirt, tossing it over a bag of rice, then brushes his fingers over the crease between his leg and his torso.

"I think I missed some, right here," he says.

He's only just come but he feels a shiver of arousal anyway. He pushes away from the wall and he doesn't pause to adjust his clothes - let Priestly do that in his own time.

He leans in, lips parted to lick and suck at the come on Priestly's skin.

Priestly feels a pleasant little tingle go through him at that, a spread of warmth that isn't entirely physical. "And here," he says, brushing his fingers over his lower abdomen, where there's none.

Part of this is about obedience, absolutely, but there's absolutely nothing unpleasant about having his mouth on Priestly's skin like this.

His mouth wanders where it's directed, lightly sucking on Priestly's skin.

"I could get used to this," murmurs Priestly, moving his hand down again, to the top of his other thigh. "We don't have anywhere else to be, do we?"

If it's a cue, it's one that Granby misses entirely, his hand coming up to graze against Priestly's hip as his mouth lingers against his belly. He's almost painfully aware of the rumpled state of his clothing, his position on his knees.

He draws in a shuddering breath.

Priestly sighs, softly and lets his fingertips rest against John's hair for a moment, not holding his head but gently brushing over and through the strands. He thinks he could be hard again soon, if this keeps up, but right now he just feels good. And content to let John keep mouthing over his skin for a little while.

He's happy to stay on his knees, mouth wandering over Priestly's belly and to his hip. His hand comes up, thumb tracing over the sharp jut of bone.

"I can be yours all night," he says.

"How the hell would I not take you up on that?" he says, almost fondly, touching John's cheek with his other hand. "We'll have to move before we sleep, though. If the boss finds us here in the morning I will never hear the end of it."

"Do you honestly intend on letting me sleep any time soon?" he asks, grinning, turning his head to press a kiss to the heel of Priestly's hand. "I'm sure you can be more inventive than that."