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

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."

"I intend to leave us exhausted enough that we won't have a choice anymore," he says, wrapping a lock of John's hair around his finger and tugging a little more sharply.

He doesn't say anything but his breath catches sharply at the tug of his hair. He bites his lip.

"Stand up," he says, even though it means that John's lips will no longer be on his body. For a little while, anyway. He gives his hair another sharp tug. "Stand up facing me."

The roots of his hair scream and he groans, softly, getting to his feet, trousers around his ankles, lips damp and swollen.

He looks at Priestly expectantly.

Priestly holds him in the cradle between his spread legs, then starts carefully taking off John's shirt.

"Just make sure we don't lose anything in here," he says, kissing John's chest once it's exposed. "Not that there aren't probably a few lost items of clothing hidden in the corners already."

"Very sensible," says Granby, voice strange and breathy in his own ears as he closes his eyes at the brush of Priestly's lips on his skin.

Priestly begins to feel the stirrings of genuine arousal again when John's nearly-bare body presses up against his.

"You should kick off your pants now," he says, and then waits expectantly.

He complies as quickly as he's able - it's not a graceful thing, pressed as tightly against Priestly as he can get, but he manages.

"That's better," says Priestly, and rubs his calf against John's leg, just because he can. He wants to feel himself get hard against John's body, pressed between them as they wrap around one another. He kisses him again, hard and a little more fierce than before.

John groans into the kiss, pushing forward with hips and chest. He urges the kiss deeper, forgetting, for the moment, any semblance of self discipline.

Honestly, they could just keep doing this for a while and Priestly would get off, heat and friction and lust and intimacy. It would take a while but that's okay, he's comfortable and they're alone and he feels like he could be pretty okay with kissing John for a very long time. But he only lets himself enjoy it for a little while--okay, a little bit longer than a little while--before he pulls away and pushes down slightly on John's shoulder.

"I think we should pick up where we left off," he says.

The pressure speaks for itself and John sinks down onto his knees but then...then he decides to push his luck.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Then you should probably figure it out quickly," says Priestly, moving his hand back to tangle in John's hair again, giving it just the slightest tug, "because I'm waiting."

"What if I don't?" asks Granby, leaning in, lips just ghosting over the jut of Priestly's hipbone.

"That depends on what you choose to do instead," says Priestly, twisting one bit of hair around his finger a little more tightly. "I'm open to ideas...within certain limitations."

The tug at the roots of his head makes his breath catch and he mouths against Priestly's skin, fingers coming up to trace against the inside of his thigh.

"What limitations?"

"Well," says Priestly, rubbing John's scalp gently with his thumb, "let's just say you're not going to need to stand up."

Granby hums his agreement, and he bends his head, brushing his lips against the shaft of Priestly's cock.