sleepytimejunction | electric tapestry

Shit.

[With the palm actually touching him, flesh to flesh, it's so much more intense. Abbacchio bites against a knuckle, trying to muffle his groan as he bucks into the contact. There's no holding back from either of them apparently, and he's pretty fucking sure this guy isn't even trying to make is easy for him.

What an asshole. He kind of likes that.

Abbacchio grits his teeth and adjusts his position a little, rubbing his bare ass against the cock he was just sucking on a minute ago.]

Not like-- I'm a screamer. 'Less you think you're hot shit enough to make me.

Guess we'll find out —

[His breath hitches again in his throat. The truth is nearly everyone would look loud next to him; he's always been quiet, his reactions controlled and subtle. Sometimes people don't like that, it makes them think he's not into it, not interested. It's better when that doesn't matter, he's found. He drowns himself in self-reflection enough as it is; he doesn't want to indulge it during sex, too.

The position shift really gets him, though. If he angles just a little himself, it makes his cock land snugly in the valley between this guy's asscheeks, makes grinding on him feel even better.]

Hh. Nn — can you. Hahh. Come more than once?

[Fuck. He won't lie, it's hot having his dick like that, just rubbing up against him. The saliva should be enough to keep it slick for awhile at least, and he absently rolls his hips back to press against him, letting his cock slide there.]

Yeah-- yeah, no problem.

[Honestly, he isn't used to something as generous as that. Getting off once is even a luxury with partners, twice is another thing.]

Good. I didn't bring lube.

[This is so ill-advised all around but — hell, if he were interested in common sense and solid reason right now, he wouldn't be fucking some random Speedwagon Foundation contractor in a closet right now.

He'll worry about counting orgasms later. For the moment, he brings his free hand up to loosely clasp the guy by the throat, making sure his back stays arched and his hips jerking forward while he picks up the pace with the hand on his cock.]

Ah--

[Abbacchio has to swallow down his moan, just letting this guy grab his throat and jerk him off. It'd be hell of a lot smarter to not let some guy he doesn't know have his hand there, but Abbacchio's stopped making good decisions ages ago. It doesn't hurt that he finds it hot, the pressure there but not cutting off his air.

Fuck it. He rolls his hips into the hand stroking him, chasing after the sensation. It's nice to have something other than his own hand. It's a little callused, but not surprising. Softer than he was expecting, actually, especially his strength.

Abbacchio stuffs his knuckles into his mouth again, biting down, moaning as he fucks into the other man's hand almost mindlessly, letting himself be held up like this. He gasps, his dick jerking as he comes, not caring how pacing himself out. Not if he's going to get to go twice anyway.]

[That was pretty, he thinks absently, watching the man twist and writhe along with the rhythm he's setting. It only occurs to him belatedly that not everyone would take well to a hand as big as his wrapping around their throat; this could've gotten bad fast, but this guy didn't seem to mind it. Actually, just the contrary; it really seemed to get him going.

Hmm.

Something to take stock of while he has the chance, anyway. He won't be thinking for much longer, not now that he's one step closer to being inside this guy whose name he doesn't even know, who's still warm and solid and there for him to grind against while he strokes him through his climax, getting his fingers covered thoroughly in his come.]

I knew you'd be noisy. "Not a screamer", my ass.

[He rolls his hips, grinding against him again, and fuck, if he really wanted he could probably get himself off, too, just doing that, but he wants to know how it feels to push inside him even more.]

Hha-- shut the fuck up.

[The words hardly sound vitriolic, still coming down from having just finished, squirming absently in the man's hold. Honestly, he's not even offended, and it's not like he didn't try to muffle himself anyway.

He pushes his hair out of his face and peers over his shoulder.]

Got what you needed from that? [Spreading out his legs as much as he can -- which isn't much considering the size of the closet -- he presses back against him.]

Edited 2020-05-03 06:22 (UTC)

Better than nothing.

[Which...still isn't great, and he's cognizant of that. He doesn't mind being rough and impersonal, but it's not like he wants to actually hurt this guy, either.]

Say something if you want me to slow down.

[Want. It's a deliberate choice, intentionally avoiding the word need. One is just a little too personal; the other is better.

It's a snug fit for maneuvering, but with some creative shifting and arm angles, he manages to bring his come-covered fingers to find the guy's hole, rubbing at it with two fingertips so he knows what's coming before one of his fingers starts to press in.]

This isn't going to be quick. I'm probably bigger than most guys you've taken.

[If anything, he's going to get off on it. Something rough, something that'll make him ache nicely for awhile, something else that'll take off the edge that isn't cheap wine. This is still something messier than he's usually done, but he's hardly going to complain.

Want. He catches that, even in the haze of the moment. Huh, okay. Abbacchio swallows, closing his eyes a moment, don't think hard about it--]

S'fine.

[Fuck, all right. Abbacchio breathes in, convincing himself to relax, which isn't too hard after he'd just come, so there's less resistance to the man's fingers.]

Heh. Thought about that. [He licks his lips, arching his back a little, but otherwise letting him do all the work.] Know you're gonna be pretty big.

Hm.

[Good, he can feel him relax after a moment, the pressure around his finger easing just slightly. His dick is starting to ache in protest, but he won't have to ignore that for long. This is more important, anyway, getting this right. Making sure it's right.]

You're into that.

[It's a question hidden in the guise of a statement, lacking the inflection that would betray an inquiry away, but it's there nevertheless. He wiggles his finger a little, testing the resistance, then experimentally pumps it in and out. Still a little tight for his liking; he'll need a bit longer to adjust before he can really start stretching him out properly.]

What else? Cocksucking, obviously. But besides that?

[The wiggle makes him breathe in sharply, his back arching. The question, though, makes him laugh, the sound airless and quiet.]

You care that much about that?

[Abbacchio presses his forehead against the wall, breathing out long and slow, taking in more of his finger as he pleases. Who even asks this kind of thing for a one off fling? None of the other guys he's fucked around with cares about any of that.

Huh. Whoever this guy ends up taking seriously is probably in for a treat. How nice is that? Too nice for someone like Abbacchio.]

You don't have time for everything I like.

Maybe I just want to make sure I'm memorable.

[He fingers him a little more, gauging, making sure he's comfortable with one before working up to two.]

...In a good way.

[He clarifies, shifting his free hand to rest against the back of the guy's head, adding just the slightest pressure to make him feel like he's being held there against the wall, pressed there by someone's outside will.]

Sure. I'll remember you as that nice guy I fucked in a closet-- mm.

[A visible shudder runs through him at the second finger getting introduced. He squirms a bit before he gets comfortable with the size of the intrusion, but he's not sure even that's going to be enough to work him up to the size of his guy's dick.

The hand on his head makes him hold his breath, then he huffs out through his nose.]

I like-- being told what to do. And you're strong enough that I'd let you.

[It's fun to fight back, too. But he likes to be made to respect his partner. It's more of a rare treat then he'd care to admit; in most cases, men are happy enough to have a hole to fuck and he can deal with that.

This is a little different, clearly.]

Better than that fucking asshole who took what he wanted and left you hanging in a closet.

[Not that he particularly wants to get into all of the details of all of that. This isn't about sentiment or attachment. It's just not as fun for him without that added level of knowing, that faint thrill that he did that, he pushed the right buttons and look how it made his partner feel.

Still. Likes being told what to do, huh? Okay, that's something he can work with. It's actually just about the right amount of sharing, really; it's not like he wants the guy's life story and laundry list of sexual interests. Just a little something to work off of is perfectly fine.]

Why the fuck am I the one prepping you, then?

[He spreads his two fingers a little, like it's for emphasis.]

Put yours in, too. It'll go faster.

What a fucking gentleman you are.

[Comparatively speaking to most partners he's had, that's not untrue. But he's hardly going to complain, even if there's a part of him that screams internally it's too kind, he doesn't deserve that, just fuck him up--

He peers at the other man from the way he's pressed up against the wall, then sneers at him, squirming a bit at the feeling of being spread out. It's almost too much but not quite, just edging on it, and he likes that too. Abbacchio curls two fingers, worming them inside to work up alongside the others already inside.]

Nnh. Fuck-- that wide enough for you?

Yare yare...maybe I should've gagged you.

[Well, if he wants to mouth off. He pushes the guy against the wall a little harder, crooking his fingers to brush up against the other man's inside him. It's such a little thing, but the thought of it makes his dick throb anyway, makes a soft hiss of breath escape from between his pressed-together teeth.

Fuck, he really doesn't want to wait around, but — a little bit more, probably, just to be safe, just to make sure he's really relaxed enough for this.]

Don't tighten up. You'll get what you want in a minute.

Too late for that now, huh?

[The firmer pressure makes him shiver, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the other man's fingers curl up inside of him, just brushing up where it's most sensitive. His hips jerk, and he doesn't even muffled his moan this time.

Yeah. He's definitely hard again.]

Worried it's gonna be a tight fit? Would be for you with just about anyone.

It's too much for some people.

[Maybe if he were anyone else, it would sound like bragging, except that his tone stays completely matter-of-fact. It's definitely happened before, he's not proud of it, trying to ease his way inside a partner as carefully as he can and having the whole thing go south because he was just too much. He never comes away from those feeling good, orgasm or not.

But it doesn't seem like this is going to be one of those times. This one's used to rougher treatment, gets off on it. No, this one's going to be okay, he thinks.]

But I bet not for you. With a mouth like that you must be a champ at taking dick.

[He fucks him a little more with his fingers, stirring him up, and when he finally draws them out again he gives him a slap on the ass for good measure.]

Where's the condom?

Think-- they make a trophy for that? Best at Taking Dick.

[Abbacchio's voice is quivering more than he'd like, but it's hard to do otherwise considering his position. Though he's still fingering himself alongside the other man, it's not quite the way the other fingers are fucking him, pushing him along.

He sucks in a breath sharply at the slap, his cock twitching. That's good, but he doesn't compliment him. Instead, Abbacchio withdraws his own fingers, his other hand he's been biting and smeared with lipstick reaching into his jacket pocket, holding the condom up.]

Can't be too sure. Don't know where your dick's been.

Hah. Nowhere interesting.

[All right, all right. He — takes a breath, collects himself a little. Snatches the condom and its wrapper out of the guy's hands and finds a clean bit to get between his teeth to help him tear it open. There's something about the tremor smothered in the guy's voice that's really kind of doing it for him, getting under his skin.

It takes some focus, but he gets the condom on without incident. This time, when he moves back against the other man, he takes advantage of his height and broadness, pressing up against him all along his back and using the weight of his own body to push him against the wall. You're strong enough, he'd said earlier. Maybe he'll enjoy a reminder of that.]

You need a minute?

[It's just asking for another nice guy wisecrack, but. He wants to hear what the guy says, wants to make him use his words, even while he's lazily grinding his dick against the other man's ass.]

[It's kind of a rare situation where someone is larger than him. Broader maybe, but this guy hits it on all accounts: he's taller, bigger, and just as strong as him, and it's honestly kind of thrilling. So when he's pushed against the wall, he feels his chest flush against it, his back arched with his ass basically on display. Abbacchio's cheek is against the wall so he can look over his shoulder, ombre eyes narrowed.]

Don't wait.

[Reaching down, he's grabbing one ass cheek, spreading himself out for the other man's cock to press against. It's hot, and he does kind of wish he'd get rawed instead, but whatever. This is still good, still fucking messy, and he can deal with that.]

Fucking softie.

We'll see if you still think so in a minute.

[Fuck, that's obscene, the way he's just putting himself on display like that, almost like he's daring him to fuck his brains out. It's so much better than shy simpering or overexaggerated whining; it's sharp and it's rough and it's simple, and now they're finally at the point where they're both just going to feel good, and that will be it.

So he works a hand between them — not much space for it, but he manages with a cock of his own hips and a little creative maneuvering, and gets himself lined up, rubbing his tip against the other man's relaxed entrance a few times so that he won't quite know when that push is finally coming.

Let him suffer a little.

But finally he's sick of fucking around, and so on one pass he finally lets himself catch on the rim of his hole and pushes in, slow but without stopping, holding his breath against the heat and the tight drag.]

[The teasing is almost too much, and he doesn't want to wait. His lack of patience is emphasized with a little growl, tempted to just shove him back and get what he wants, but he waits regardless.

Then finally, he starts pressing in.

Using his own come as lube helps a little in making it smoother, the condom helping a bit too, but there's still a burn along with being spread out like this. Abbacchio hisses, eyes shutting for a moment as he breathes in and out slowly, trying to relax himself to make it easier.

God-- fuck, it's so much. He knew it'd be a tight fit, but he's really feeling it now. He's so hot inside like this, and the more he goes on the more full Abbacchio feels.]

Fuck...

[Abbacchio lets out a breath, finally opening his eyes to look at the other man.]

You're gonna break me with that. [But Abbacchio doesn't sound concerned or afraid. It's more like a dare.]

Aw. What's wrong, baby, gonna scream about it?

[Dry as it is, it's all talk. Even as he says it, his hands are moving to rest on the other man's hip and to circle around to rest flat on his abdomen — holding him steady, keeping him from moving around too much before he's ready. He could hurt him like this, Jotaro knows, and he's loath to, but like hell if he's going to get sentimental about it. Better to just rile him up a different way instead, fill the silence with spite so it doesn't get awkward with gentleness.

So, this is better. His thumb strokes lightly along the taught muscle of his stomach, trying to coax him into relaxing more without calling attention to what he's doing. He wants so bad to just — move, chase the friction and damn the consequences, but he won't, so focusing in on that one small gesture serves a dual purpose, helping him stay grounded, too.]

I'll put you back together when I'm done.

You wish I would.

[The words make him snort, and he peers at the other man with a sneer -- but he doesn't ignore the way the hand slowly touches him, thumb stroking, like he's taming a wild animal. He might as well be.

But it works, and he settles down, even as he clenches briefly around the thickness of the cock buried inside of him.]

Heh. [He breathes out the dry laugh.] How sweet. Don't break your toy beyond repair, huh?

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