( henry hasn't told sam he isn't allowed to touch, to push for more, but this still feels like--he's trying to figure something out, and sam's all for supporting whatever adventure henry's decided he needs to go on to figure shit out for. which means no taking initiative when he sees henry start touching himself no matter how much sam wants to shove him over and take his cock in his mouth.
but not being able to lean forward and suck him off doesn't mean sam can't stare at henry's cock while his mouth fucking waters watching his fingers move over himself. enough that sam's completely fucking distracted by henry, by his fingers, his face, the way he responds to his own touches that when henry leans in and kisses him again, he has to--remember where he's at.
moans soft against henry's lips, but immediately upon being given a directive, sam's shifting to follow it. he raises his hips off the floor, tugs his pants down enough that he can shimmy out of them. waits, until henry moves towards the drawer to kick them all the way off and--turn himself around. keeps himself up on his knees and leans forward, so his chest is pressed against the couch seat. )
This okay? ( how does henry want him? what's his plan, is this alright? )
henry doesn't feel too bad about freezing in place for a second when sam follows his directive instantly. or taking another second to remember how to breathe. not now that they've established that patience is part of it. it shouldn't still surprise him that sam is so willing, he hasn't refused henry anything so far. maybe surprised isn't the right word.
also he asked henry a question. actually asked. if he did the right thing. jesus.
running his fingers through sam's hair again, henry presses several kisses to the back of his neck and down his shoulder, speaking between them. ]
Yes. Perfect. Exactly as I wanted.
[ henry tries to keep his voice as steady as possible. if he's going to ask for control until further notice, it's best that he actually remains in control. from his position half behind, half to the side of where sam is kneeling, he finishes retrieving the lube and whatever else. he slides his hand over the curve of sam's ass, gripping slightly before letting go to slick his fingers. leaning forward again, he rests his forehead against sam's shoulder while teasing circles and mild pressure against his hole.
it would be so easy to slip his finger inside, henry thinks as his cock presses against sam's hip. but that's the thing, it would be too easy. lips quirking into a half smile against his skin, henry breathes out another question. ]
Good?
[ he wants to check in, of course, make sure sam is still okay. enjoying himself. but perhaps he also wants to see how eager he can make him. ]
( henry can take his time. it feels fucking weird to just be--kneeling here like this, hands pressed to couch cushions and ass out but it's fine. it's henry, who for some fucking reason sam does actually trust not to fuck him over. it's henry's fingers pressing through his hair, his lips moving down his neck, his shoulders, and it all feels good. sam hums soft when henry speaks, closes his eyes as he lets the tension bleed out from his shoulders.
might have been better to prep henry first, if sam's going to fuck him after this. but then again, maybe the downtime in the middle'll give sam's dick the reprieve it needs to be able to handle holding off on coming long enough to fuck henry through an orgasm, too. jesus fucking christ, how does he let himself get into shit like this?
not that he's complaining, because henry's pressing his fingers up against him and sam's shifting his weight onto his knees and rolling down against them, trying to coax henry to press into him. )
If it wasn't good, you'd be hearing me bitch about it a crapton more than I am.
( eyes open again, head tipping back so he can look to henry. grins, all teeth and snark before sam's wiggling his brows. )
C'mon, Henry. You gonna fuck me or what? Do you want me to open myself up instead? You wanna watch me fuck myself with my fingers? Or are you gonna get a move on?
( impatient, but henry already knew that. they're pushing at the limit of sam's tolerance for waiting, but he's not doing shit aside from running his mouth. well. yet. )
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but not being able to lean forward and suck him off doesn't mean sam can't stare at henry's cock while his mouth fucking waters watching his fingers move over himself. enough that sam's completely fucking distracted by henry, by his fingers, his face, the way he responds to his own touches that when henry leans in and kisses him again, he has to--remember where he's at.
moans soft against henry's lips, but immediately upon being given a directive, sam's shifting to follow it. he raises his hips off the floor, tugs his pants down enough that he can shimmy out of them. waits, until henry moves towards the drawer to kick them all the way off and--turn himself around. keeps himself up on his knees and leans forward, so his chest is pressed against the couch seat. )
This okay? ( how does henry want him? what's his plan, is this alright? )
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henry doesn't feel too bad about freezing in place for a second when sam follows his directive instantly. or taking another second to remember how to breathe. not now that they've established that patience is part of it. it shouldn't still surprise him that sam is so willing, he hasn't refused henry anything so far. maybe surprised isn't the right word.
also he asked henry a question. actually asked. if he did the right thing. jesus.
running his fingers through sam's hair again, henry presses several kisses to the back of his neck and down his shoulder, speaking between them. ]
Yes. Perfect. Exactly as I wanted.
[ henry tries to keep his voice as steady as possible. if he's going to ask for control until further notice, it's best that he actually remains in control. from his position half behind, half to the side of where sam is kneeling, he finishes retrieving the lube and whatever else. he slides his hand over the curve of sam's ass, gripping slightly before letting go to slick his fingers. leaning forward again, he rests his forehead against sam's shoulder while teasing circles and mild pressure against his hole.
it would be so easy to slip his finger inside, henry thinks as his cock presses against sam's hip. but that's the thing, it would be too easy. lips quirking into a half smile against his skin, henry breathes out another question. ]
Good?
[ he wants to check in, of course, make sure sam is still okay. enjoying himself. but perhaps he also wants to see how eager he can make him. ]
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might have been better to prep henry first, if sam's going to fuck him after this. but then again, maybe the downtime in the middle'll give sam's dick the reprieve it needs to be able to handle holding off on coming long enough to fuck henry through an orgasm, too. jesus fucking christ, how does he let himself get into shit like this?
not that he's complaining, because henry's pressing his fingers up against him and sam's shifting his weight onto his knees and rolling down against them, trying to coax henry to press into him. )
If it wasn't good, you'd be hearing me bitch about it a crapton more than I am.
( eyes open again, head tipping back so he can look to henry. grins, all teeth and snark before sam's wiggling his brows. )
C'mon, Henry. You gonna fuck me or what? Do you want me to open myself up instead? You wanna watch me fuck myself with my fingers? Or are you gonna get a move on?
( impatient, but henry already knew that. they're pushing at the limit of sam's tolerance for waiting, but he's not doing shit aside from running his mouth. well. yet. )