[ Still smiling, Alan pushes Tseng's shirt off his shoulders, and moves to straddle his lap. His hands draw back up Tseng's arms as he settles, warm, sensual; when his fingers reach Tseng's shoulders, he changes direction to slide them down Tseng's chest to his waist. Alan bends his head and starts laying wet, sucking kisses where his fingers just were -- Tseng's shoulders, his collarbone.
For this, he takes his time. Tseng seems to invite that kind of thing. He's a patient man, clearly, and though Alan can easily (and happily) imagine him behaving with impatient roughness, it doesn't seem like his natural proclivity. And it's nice to just enjoy his body, with hands and tongue.
Hands, right. One of Alan's hands creeps over to wrap around Tseng's cock again. He strokes him slowly but firmly, less with the intent of getting him off yet and more as a prelude, while his mouth moves down Tseng's chest to a nipple. ]
[ it's a good observation. tseng certainly has it in him to be rough and urgent when the moment is right, but for the most part he does have good patience and better stamina—and he doesn't at all mind the slow exploration of alan's hands and mouth over his skin. he welcomes it, in fact, with quiet noises of pleasure when something feels particularly good, and with his own hands coming to rest warm against alan's waist, moving around to touch whatever skin he can reach without disturbing alan's attentions.
there's an open appreciativeness to tseng's touches that gives away how much he really does like being naked with alan this way. although they don't know each other that well, yet, tseng has an impression of him as someone tseng might like to get to know better—both intimately and otherwise. ]
Fuck, [ tseng says, almost startled into pleasure by the way alan's hand closes around his cock. he'd been thinking of other things—the wet trail of kisses, the weight of alan across his thighs—and not paying attention to that hand moving, and so the shock of sensation takes him by surprise. in a good way, though, as tseng's cock throbs rather obviously under his touch. ] Mm, that's good...
[ Alan lifts his head enough to grin at Tseng, before moving back to settle onto his knees between Tseng's legs. (Praise may not get him quite as hard as a little degradation does, but who doesn't like being told they're doing a good job? Especially with a voice like Tseng's, especially laced with pleasure like that.) He makes quick work of any remaining clothing, with Tseng's help, and then finally bends down to drag his tongue up Tseng's cock.
This is something he enjoys, something he feels nearly as good at as writing. Having a man's prick in his mouth, hard and hot, is a sensual pleasure in and of itself. He wraps one hand firmly around the base of Tseng's cock and sets about learning every inch of that pleasure. The weight of it against his tongue when he takes it into his mouth. The scent. The smoothness of skin against his lips. The twitch when his tongue flicks the right spot. ]
[ for all that tseng fucks quite a lot, even by the standards of the resort, the truth is that he doesn't actually get sucked off all that often. call it a side effect of being the kind of service top he is—he rarely expects anything from his partners in return, let alone demanding it. so for alan to be so enthusiastic about this, getting his mouth on tseng's cock, is a little novel and a lot flattering, and above all, exquisitely enjoyable.
tseng leans back against the pillows with a noise of pleasure and lifts a hand to thread it through the back of alan's hair. he's not going to do any guiding with that touch, at least not unless alan suggests he wants it, but it is a good way for tseng to give tactile feedback on how alan is doing—which, based on the semi-unconscious flexing of tseng's grip, is really very well, actually.
like this, tseng's cues are easy to read. he responds obviously to alan's tongue against his cockhead and applied just below the tip, as well as to the firm suction of his cheeks when he draws back. the more alan works him over, the more clearly the muscles of tseng's thighs flex with the effort it takes not to move too much, and his noises, quiet though they are, grow more regular and breathless with enjoyment. ]
[ Perhaps predictably, Alan presses into the hand in his hair like a cat itching to be stroked. His free hand comes to rest on Tseng's thigh, balancing him -- but also affording him the lovely feeling of Tseng getting tenser, the little movements of his muscles.
There comes a point where he thinks Tseng is starting to get close -- certainly he's breathless, his prick hard and wet in Alan's mouth, his thigh hard and warm under Alan's hand -- and at that point, Alan pulls back. Gives Tseng a bright, flushed-cheek grin, eyes alight with mischief. ]
[ alan is right, of course, that tseng is starting to get close. he's not trying to hold himself back, and alan is very good with his mouth, so it's no surprise that little by little he feels his climax edging closer, tension rising throughout his body. his breath leaves him in soft pants, occasionally ending on quiet moans, and his fingers twitch slightly in alan's hair.
it also shouldn't be a surprise when alan pulls away right at the very moment that tseng's orgasm is threatening to overtake him. he's poised right at the edge, lightheaded, when all of a sudden the wet heat of alan's mouth disappears and tseng shudders, groaning aloud as he lifts his other hand to drag it down his face. ]
Oh, you're a fucking menace, [ tseng says, his tone full of both amusement and frustration. ] You know exactly what you're doing, don't you.
[ It's not so much that he's trying to edge Tseng as he is trying to provoke him, to see what, if anything, will crack him out of quiet self-control. That groan makes Alan feel a little lightheaded with triumph himself. He strokes Tseng's cock once, carefully firm, deliberately slow, rubbing his thumb at the spot under the head that made Tseng react so well when it was Alan's tongue flicking it. ]
[ just like before, that purposeful attention to the underside of tseng's cockhead makes him shudder and his breath catch. he's sensitive there regardless, but even moreso like this, when he's so desperately aroused and has already been brought down from the edge of climax once. alan might not be intending to edge him per se, but it's certainly working regardless. ]
Please, [ tseng says. he might not be the begging type, but he's definitely not above letting alan know how affected he is. ] You're making me insane.
[ The please runs down Alan's spine to his cock with the same pleasant burn as Tseng's gin. He rolls his neck to relieve the tension. ]
Please, even. So you've some manners after all.
[ As does he, because with that, he bends down and takes Tseng all the way into his throat. That's in some etiquette book somewhere, probably, right? ]
[ as much as tseng would love to make some kind of quip about manners and which of them is in possession of more, he's neatly forestalled by alan's mouth sinking back down over his cock, turning whatever words he had in him into a low groan of pleasure. alan's mouth is talented and his throat just as much so, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly climax rises in tseng, or rather it would be if tseng had any space in his mind left to think about anything other than how good he feels.
his hand tightens in alan's hair, control slipping just a little as he manages a strangled, ] Shiva, Alan, I'm going to—
[ come, tseng means to say, except that instead of saying it he just does. the crest of pleasure finds its peak and tseng tips his head back against the headboard with a moan, hips jerking up as he spills into alan's mouth. hopefully he didn't need more warning than tseng was able to give, but maybe that's the price to pay for being too good at giving head. ]
[ Alan makes a muffled sound of satisfaction himself, moving to accommodate Tseng's thrusts. If he didn't want to taste him, he would have brought him off with his hand, after all -- and that would certainly be worthwhile, too, to see Tseng come over his thighs and stomach, or over Alan's--
Another time. He swallows what he can and then pulls back, panting for breath, stroking Tseng through the last of the orgasm. It's gorgeous, the way Tseng arches back in his pleasure; with the talk of sin and religion before this, it's hard not to think of saints in ecstasy. Alan laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then dips down to clean Tseng's cock with his tongue. ]
[ as the jolts of pleasure begin to taper off, tseng subsides back against the pillows, panting and sweaty and flushed with effort. or rather, he tries to subside, but finds himself tensing all over again when alan leans down to lick at his spent cock, the sensation just barely the right side of too much in the wake of his orgasm. ]
Fuck, [ tseng exhales shortly, then laughs breathlessly. ] You're...
[ he's not even really sure how to end that statement. a menace? incredible? something else entirely? tseng reaches up to swipe the back of his wrist over his forehead and ends with, ] Probably going to be the death of me.
[ easily top 3 blowjobs tseng has ever had, that. ]
[ Chuckling, Alan stretches and flops over to the side, reaching down to adjust his own cock as he makes himself comfortable. Getting Tseng off has turned him on a bit, but he doesn't feel any urgent need at the moment. ]
What's good for the hen is good for the cock, eh? You're welcome.
[ although tseng's gaze follows the gesture with interest, he's a little too immediately post-orgasmic to entertain doing anything about it. it does strike him, though, that he and alan could pretty easily end up in a feedback loop of arousal this way, just getting each other off in turn until somebody cries uncle.
he is... not surprised, but pleased by how comfortable it is to just be sprawled out nude atop the sheets with alan, though. not that tseng doesn't spend a lot of time naked, but he's often so focused on aftercare that he doesn't really get to indulge in this kind of laziness. ]
[ Alan grins. ] Sometimes. If you're offering, yes.
[ It's one of those vices that he could rarely justify, back home, unwilling to either spend good money on good tobacco, or spend less good money on the harsh stuff. Like the gin, though, Tseng can clearly afford to be generous. ]
[ tseng is indeed offering. wise of alan to take him up on it, when just like his liquor and his bedsheets, his tobacco is good-quality too—creature comforts of the queen rank.
he rolls to the side to dig in the drawer of his nightstand and withdraws a pack of cigarettes with a lighter inside, which he offers to alan first. ]
[ so, both. he doesn't offer assistance with the lighter—alan is smart, he'll figure it out and would probably be offended by the implication that he couldn't—and after a moment tseng's inaction is rewarded when alan does indeed manage to get his cigarette lit. tseng puts his hand out to take back both cigarettes and lighter, lights his own, and then deposits the whole lot into the nightstand so he can lean back against the pillows and take a deep drag.
he wasn't lying when he said this was an indulgence for him. tseng, for all that his life expectancy is low, tends to take good care of his health and fitness. but indeed, sometimes the sex or the tobacco is so good that he feels like it's worth it—this being one of those times. ]
[ are you saying cigarettes are bad for you??? that sounds fake, tseng, the adverts say they're healthy
A look of pleasure -- so satisfied it verges on smug -- crosses Alan's face, and he settles in to smoke. There's a pleasant clarity settling in, half from the cigarette, half post-coital. ]
In a bit, if that's all right. I'm enjoying looking at you.
[ especially given the equally carefree way tseng's own gaze sweeps along alan's bare body, appreciating anew the shape of him now that they're no longer in the heat of the moment. he really is attractive, not least of all when he's post-coital and lazy in tseng's sheets, and the sight of him makes tseng feel warm all over, although the lazy spark of arousal isn't quite enough to spur him to action again.
although tseng obviously respects alan's feelings re: kissing, he can't help but feel it's a shame they can't do some indulgent making out right now. ]
[ Being riled by Tseng is a pleasure in turn; Alan only wishes he knew more about Tseng so he could give back with a little more specificity. It's nice to feel like they can be friends, as well as fuck. ]
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[ Still smiling, Alan pushes Tseng's shirt off his shoulders, and moves to straddle his lap. His hands draw back up Tseng's arms as he settles, warm, sensual; when his fingers reach Tseng's shoulders, he changes direction to slide them down Tseng's chest to his waist. Alan bends his head and starts laying wet, sucking kisses where his fingers just were -- Tseng's shoulders, his collarbone.
For this, he takes his time. Tseng seems to invite that kind of thing. He's a patient man, clearly, and though Alan can easily (and happily) imagine him behaving with impatient roughness, it doesn't seem like his natural proclivity. And it's nice to just enjoy his body, with hands and tongue.
Hands, right. One of Alan's hands creeps over to wrap around Tseng's cock again. He strokes him slowly but firmly, less with the intent of getting him off yet and more as a prelude, while his mouth moves down Tseng's chest to a nipple. ]
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there's an open appreciativeness to tseng's touches that gives away how much he really does like being naked with alan this way. although they don't know each other that well, yet, tseng has an impression of him as someone tseng might like to get to know better—both intimately and otherwise. ]
Fuck, [ tseng says, almost startled into pleasure by the way alan's hand closes around his cock. he'd been thinking of other things—the wet trail of kisses, the weight of alan across his thighs—and not paying attention to that hand moving, and so the shock of sensation takes him by surprise. in a good way, though, as tseng's cock throbs rather obviously under his touch. ] Mm, that's good...
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This is something he enjoys, something he feels nearly as good at as writing. Having a man's prick in his mouth, hard and hot, is a sensual pleasure in and of itself. He wraps one hand firmly around the base of Tseng's cock and sets about learning every inch of that pleasure. The weight of it against his tongue when he takes it into his mouth. The scent. The smoothness of skin against his lips. The twitch when his tongue flicks the right spot. ]
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tseng leans back against the pillows with a noise of pleasure and lifts a hand to thread it through the back of alan's hair. he's not going to do any guiding with that touch, at least not unless alan suggests he wants it, but it is a good way for tseng to give tactile feedback on how alan is doing—which, based on the semi-unconscious flexing of tseng's grip, is really very well, actually.
like this, tseng's cues are easy to read. he responds obviously to alan's tongue against his cockhead and applied just below the tip, as well as to the firm suction of his cheeks when he draws back. the more alan works him over, the more clearly the muscles of tseng's thighs flex with the effort it takes not to move too much, and his noises, quiet though they are, grow more regular and breathless with enjoyment. ]
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There comes a point where he thinks Tseng is starting to get close -- certainly he's breathless, his prick hard and wet in Alan's mouth, his thigh hard and warm under Alan's hand -- and at that point, Alan pulls back. Gives Tseng a bright, flushed-cheek grin, eyes alight with mischief. ]
Something holding you back?
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it also shouldn't be a surprise when alan pulls away right at the very moment that tseng's orgasm is threatening to overtake him. he's poised right at the edge, lightheaded, when all of a sudden the wet heat of alan's mouth disappears and tseng shudders, groaning aloud as he lifts his other hand to drag it down his face. ]
Oh, you're a fucking menace, [ tseng says, his tone full of both amusement and frustration. ] You know exactly what you're doing, don't you.
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[ It's not so much that he's trying to edge Tseng as he is trying to provoke him, to see what, if anything, will crack him out of quiet self-control. That groan makes Alan feel a little lightheaded with triumph himself. He strokes Tseng's cock once, carefully firm, deliberately slow, rubbing his thumb at the spot under the head that made Tseng react so well when it was Alan's tongue flicking it. ]
More?
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Please, [ tseng says. he might not be the begging type, but he's definitely not above letting alan know how affected he is. ] You're making me insane.
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Please, even. So you've some manners after all.
[ As does he, because with that, he bends down and takes Tseng all the way into his throat. That's in some etiquette book somewhere, probably, right? ]
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his hand tightens in alan's hair, control slipping just a little as he manages a strangled, ] Shiva, Alan, I'm going to—
[ come, tseng means to say, except that instead of saying it he just does. the crest of pleasure finds its peak and tseng tips his head back against the headboard with a moan, hips jerking up as he spills into alan's mouth. hopefully he didn't need more warning than tseng was able to give, but maybe that's the price to pay for being too good at giving head. ]
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Another time. He swallows what he can and then pulls back, panting for breath, stroking Tseng through the last of the orgasm. It's gorgeous, the way Tseng arches back in his pleasure; with the talk of sin and religion before this, it's hard not to think of saints in ecstasy. Alan laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then dips down to clean Tseng's cock with his tongue. ]
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Fuck, [ tseng exhales shortly, then laughs breathlessly. ] You're...
[ he's not even really sure how to end that statement. a menace? incredible? something else entirely? tseng reaches up to swipe the back of his wrist over his forehead and ends with, ] Probably going to be the death of me.
[ easily top 3 blowjobs tseng has ever had, that. ]
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What's good for the hen is good for the cock, eh? You're welcome.
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he is... not surprised, but pleased by how comfortable it is to just be sprawled out nude atop the sheets with alan, though. not that tseng doesn't spend a lot of time naked, but he's often so focused on aftercare that he doesn't really get to indulge in this kind of laziness. ]
Do you smoke? [ tseng asks after a second. ]
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[ It's one of those vices that he could rarely justify, back home, unwilling to either spend good money on good tobacco, or spend less good money on the harsh stuff. Like the gin, though, Tseng can clearly afford to be generous. ]
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he rolls to the side to dig in the drawer of his nightstand and withdraws a pack of cigarettes with a lighter inside, which he offers to alan first. ]
I don't always. Just when it's good enough.
[ a smile, almost a smirk. ]
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[ Alan sits up tailor-style, accepting the cigarettes and lighter, and only fumbles with the latter for a minute before getting a cigarette lit. ]
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Yes.
[ so, both. he doesn't offer assistance with the lighter—alan is smart, he'll figure it out and would probably be offended by the implication that he couldn't—and after a moment tseng's inaction is rewarded when alan does indeed manage to get his cigarette lit. tseng puts his hand out to take back both cigarettes and lighter, lights his own, and then deposits the whole lot into the nightstand so he can lean back against the pillows and take a deep drag.
he wasn't lying when he said this was an indulgence for him. tseng, for all that his life expectancy is low, tends to take good care of his health and fitness. but indeed, sometimes the sex or the tobacco is so good that he feels like it's worth it—this being one of those times. ]
Will you want to wash up?
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A look of pleasure -- so satisfied it verges on smug -- crosses Alan's face, and he settles in to smoke. There's a pleasant clarity settling in, half from the cigarette, half post-coital. ]
In a bit, if that's all right. I'm enjoying looking at you.
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[ especially given the equally carefree way tseng's own gaze sweeps along alan's bare body, appreciating anew the shape of him now that they're no longer in the heat of the moment. he really is attractive, not least of all when he's post-coital and lazy in tseng's sheets, and the sight of him makes tseng feel warm all over, although the lazy spark of arousal isn't quite enough to spur him to action again.
although tseng obviously respects alan's feelings re: kissing, he can't help but feel it's a shame they can't do some indulgent making out right now. ]
Remind me, do you count cards?
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Arrogant prick. No, I don't count cards. Not that I should be telling you that, giving away advantages. Why?
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I was going to offer to teach you. It seemed like you'd enjoy stealing from the casino.
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Am I that obvious?
[ He takes a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. ]
I haven't been a thief in a while.
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