renaissanceman | (no subject)

[ continued from here ]

"Me either," Yorick says, feeling all warm and crazy, because holy shit, he's a whole package? "But you're...fuck, your mouth was like, made for kissing. And don't you fucking laugh, I haven't even kissed you and I already know."

But now he's talking too much, and crap, his heart's beating like five hundred times a second, so he just tugs Priestly closer and does it. Yorick kisses him, and it's a little weird, but it's soft and...fuck...soft.

Priestly's glad Yorick did it first because at the rate he was going he was never going to get there. And yeah, he knows he's a good kisser, actually, because he's always been a person who has to try just a little harder than everyone else when it comes to this, to prove something, but Yorick's, you know, pretty good too. Okay, very good. Okay, good enough that Priestly pretty much doesn't want to stop once they start, except to breathe once in a while because all the wine plus lack of oxygen does funny things to his head.

Priestly tastes like the wine, but better than wine, his mouth is wet and warm and Yorick licks his way inside, hands tightening around his shirt.

"Mm...should've...listened to Starbucks," Yorick moans around Priestly's lower lip, worrying it with his teeth before sucking on it and kissing him again.

Priestly can't fucking breathe, he can't, and has to pull away for a moment, leaning his forehead against Yorick's and closing his eyes. "It's Boaz," he says breathlessly. "My name. And don't you dare ever use it." Then he grabs at him and kisses him again so he can't even answer.

Yorick's too busy kissing to answer, pressing closer and closer to Priestly until he's practically in his lap. "No," he says, sucking in a breath, his mouth pressed to Priestly's even as he talks. "I like it." A kiss. "It's good." He shoves a hand up Priestly's shirt, spreading his fingers along all that warm skin. "Boaz, fuck..."

"It's still Priestly," he says, fingertips slipping up inside Yorick's shirt in return, pressing into his skin. He feels flushed all over, hot and short of breath and dizzy with wine and desire. Right now this seems like a good idea. A great idea. Maybe the best idea ever.

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"Priestly, right," Yorick murmurs, moans soft against his lips at the feel of his hands and mouth. He's kind of drunk, and apparently maybe a little gay, but he doesn't give a fuck. Not when he's got his tongue in Priestly's mouth.

They're rapidly reaching a point where they should probably talk about this or at least think about this or something, but Priestly doesn't. He knows how to say no and he's pretty sure Yorick does too so as long as neither of them does, well, that's just a big green light as far as he's concerned.

That's when he goes for it and slides a hand down just under the waistband of Yorick's pants, by the small of his back.

Yorick hums appreciatively, shifting toward Priestly to give his hand some more room. He's not sure what Priestly's looking for back there, do dudes like other dudes asses the way guys like women's asses? It's a hard question to ponder in this state. Instead, he tweaks Priestly's nipple, wondering if that's something that crosses over, too.

Priestly hisses a little and his fingers press into skin, clutching Yorick tighter. Okay yeah, yeah, that's good. They can keep doing that as long as they like, maybe with a little more rubbing thrown in.

Yorick does it a little more, but he's got no patience, not with the way his dick is pressing up against his jeans. He rubs his erection a second before searching out Priestly's. He paws the crotch of Priestly's pants, clumsy and uncoordinated, and rubs when he feels how hard Priestly is.

"Fuck yeah," he says, which isn't exactly the most romantic exclamation, but then they aren't the most romantic guys and this definitely isn't the most romantic situation. "Should we, uh. Ditch our pants?"

"I think that's what I'm trying to do," Yorick says, pulling away from Priestly's face enough to check out Fort Knox down there. "Buckles, seriously? God, why'd you wear funky pants today..." He loosens buckle, snaps, zipper, and unceremoniously shoves his hand inside.

"I wear funky pants every day," he points out, a little breathlessly. "Except the days when I'm wearing the kilt. Fuck, why couldn't I be wearing the kilt today?" Okay, good, yes, Yorick's in his pants, but they're still on.

But they can work with that.

"Because you want me to suffer," Yorick says, and pushes Priestly back onto the ground. He should probably be worried or something that they're outside where anyone can run into them, but he can't bring himself to care enough to stop. He palms Priestly's cock through his boxers before pulling his hand out to yank both pants and underwear the hell off.

"Holy shit," he whispers, 'cause alcohol or not, this is seriously the first time he's ever checked out a guy's dick. And it's...well, it's a dick. The thing is, just looking at it is turning him on, and he's pretty sure he wants to freak out.

"Okay, I think the idea of getting my pants off was that you were going to come back, after," says Priestly after a moment passes and Yorick's still staring at him. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with it, right? Is there?"

Yorick snaps out of it, face flushed. "No! No. It looks...like a dick." He stares at it and starts to wonder what it'd taste like, but that's just way too much. He crawls back over Priestly and grabs his cock with purpose.

"I've never...so like-- tell me if I'm-- if it sucks," he says, a jumble of words as he starts stroking Priestly's cock. He likes the weight of it in his hand, and plays with the head a little, spreading precome, making it slick.

"Well, you've got one, right?" says Priestly, feeling dizzy with it all, the alcohol and the making out and the whole newness of everything. "So you know what to do with it."

Yeah, Yorick has one too, and Priestly should probably do something about that.

"Yeah, but it's mine," Yorick says, and fuck, this is way too much talking. Yorick likes to talk, but there's better things he could be doing with his mouth.

He's already sprawled all over Priestly, it doesn't take much movement to get to his neck, licking a path to the tattoo on one side, still jacking him.

Okay, yeah, it's hard to get into Yorick's pants when he's being all distracting like that, with the tongue and the handjob. But Priestly's determined to be a giver, and fumbles with Yorick's clothes to get them open.