He opens his eyes, sated and happy, to see Tim sitting up and wiping a careful hand over his mouth, shakes his hands in his handcuffs (can’t shake them much, but enough to make a noise) to attract attention to his very important needs that really should be prioritized.
Tim, ever obedient Tim, simply rolls his eyes and slides up the bed again. Leaning in for yet another one of those deep kisses that this time tastes exactly like him.
“Mm,” he laughs, drawing back with his throat still scratchy then leaning cheekily in to press a peck against Tim’s nose, “wonderful… Now, want to shag before my arms drop off?”
…And immediately Tim is drawing back with wide eyes instead of taking the hint, tch! “Shag?”
“Make love, have sex, penetrate me in a pleasurable manner,” he provides, shifting his hands to make them a little bit more tempting (guys like the spread out virgin look, right?)
…Unfortunately his movement only seems to remind Tim of another point, tch! “Are your arms alright?”
“They’re fine.”
“Because we could probably-“
Honestly, a shag on offer here and all the man can do is complain (acceptable) and flail (expected) and not do anything despite the big black hole of pleasure waiting to pull him into its depths…
“Tim,” he interrupts, with about as much patience as a reasonably amiable (yeah, right) man can be expected to summon in this sort of situation, “get your clothes off, get the lube in the dresser and shag me right now or I won’t blow you while you’re watching cricket on a Sunday.”
A long pause.
“I don’t technically ask you to-“
“Tim.”
…Lovely Tim, again, as he immediately draws back even further for the express purpose of drawing his shirt over his head and undoing his belt.
“Lube,” he still reminds sharply, as Tim attempts to dive back in.
It earns him a grumble, yes, and another one of those tiresomely grumpy looks… But it also earns him the sight of Tim nakedly stomping over to the dresser! And nakedly getting the lube! And nakedly marching back with the lube in hand! And nakedly being naked!
He has to admit, this is one of his favourite states of Tim. With him leaning heavily on the bed, and sliding his knees up, and slowly pushing in a wonderfully cold finger that has another whine echoing out of his throat in a quite pleasing manner.
“Insatiable,” Tim complains, adding another finger and starting to stretch. And, honestly, if the man didn’t know that when he got passionately snogged in front of the customers to prove a point (and then responded by timidly asking him out for dinner half an hour later)…
He yelps, again, already half hard. Yanks his hands against the restraints and gives a pleased shudder at the feeling of metal against him.
A third finger added, probing deeper and deeper…
And then, finally (he’s an impatient sod, what can he say), he is ready. And Tim is slowly withdrawing and turning to himself – able to slick up within a minute without the numerous interruptions of a certain skinny, impatient sod attempting to clamber into his lap and kiss him and do a thousand other distracting things that leads to frantic grinding more often than not.
FILL: Appropriate Usage, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3A/3]
Tim, ever obedient Tim, simply rolls his eyes and slides up the bed again. Leaning in for yet another one of those deep kisses that this time tastes exactly like him.
“Mm,” he laughs, drawing back with his throat still scratchy then leaning cheekily in to press a peck against Tim’s nose, “wonderful… Now, want to shag before my arms drop off?”
…And immediately Tim is drawing back with wide eyes instead of taking the hint, tch! “Shag?”
“Make love, have sex, penetrate me in a pleasurable manner,” he provides, shifting his hands to make them a little bit more tempting (guys like the spread out virgin look, right?)
…Unfortunately his movement only seems to remind Tim of another point, tch! “Are your arms alright?”
“They’re fine.”
“Because we could probably-“
Honestly, a shag on offer here and all the man can do is complain (acceptable) and flail (expected) and not do anything despite the big black hole of pleasure waiting to pull him into its depths…
“Tim,” he interrupts, with about as much patience as a reasonably amiable (yeah, right) man can be expected to summon in this sort of situation, “get your clothes off, get the lube in the dresser and shag me right now or I won’t blow you while you’re watching cricket on a Sunday.”
A long pause.
“I don’t technically ask you to-“
“Tim.”
…Lovely Tim, again, as he immediately draws back even further for the express purpose of drawing his shirt over his head and undoing his belt.
“Lube,” he still reminds sharply, as Tim attempts to dive back in.
It earns him a grumble, yes, and another one of those tiresomely grumpy looks… But it also earns him the sight of Tim nakedly stomping over to the dresser! And nakedly getting the lube! And nakedly marching back with the lube in hand! And nakedly being naked!
He has to admit, this is one of his favourite states of Tim. With him leaning heavily on the bed, and sliding his knees up, and slowly pushing in a wonderfully cold finger that has another whine echoing out of his throat in a quite pleasing manner.
“Insatiable,” Tim complains, adding another finger and starting to stretch. And, honestly, if the man didn’t know that when he got passionately snogged in front of the customers to prove a point (and then responded by timidly asking him out for dinner half an hour later)…
He yelps, again, already half hard. Yanks his hands against the restraints and gives a pleased shudder at the feeling of metal against him.
A third finger added, probing deeper and deeper…
And then, finally (he’s an impatient sod, what can he say), he is ready. And Tim is slowly withdrawing and turning to himself – able to slick up within a minute without the numerous interruptions of a certain skinny, impatient sod attempting to clamber into his lap and kiss him and do a thousand other distracting things that leads to frantic grinding more often than not.