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schmericaLJ, are you really back? NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN. Especially not when I have porn to share with you.
dissolve (in the heat of your charm)
by Pearl-o
Charles/Erik, NC-17, ~1300 words. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
olivia_circe for beta. Also posted at AO3 here.
Summary: Erik gives his first blowjob. As always, he and Charles have a lot of emotions.
*****
As it happens, this is a sexual act that Erik has never performed before. His previous sexual encounters had almost all been with women, for one thing, and for another, without exception they had tended to be brief, designed to get to the goal without delay. It's only now, with his newer experiences to compare, that Erik has realized how little he was truly attracted to any of the unexceptional humans his life has shown him.
So - from this end, at least - fellatio is a new experience for him, and he is going to take his time, measure it out in slow deliberate steps. Choosing to give Charles this intimacy feels important, and he will let it play out at his own pace. He can't remember another time he's knelt before a man, and yet here he is, settled between Charles's legs, his palms flat on Charles's thighs, as Charles sits before him in his armchair.
He undoes the metal of Charles's belt with a gesture, pulls it out of the loops and lets it fall to the side of the chair. He undoes the buttons of the trousers with his hands, letting his fingers brush against the bulge in Charles's underwear, enjoying the small breath Charles lets out at the contact. He moves the trousers and briefs out of the way, wrapping his hand around Charles's erection, and then he pauses for a long moment.
Charles takes his thoughtfulness for hesitation. He vibrates with uncertainty, and Erik glances up to see his worry. "Erik - I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
Erik shakes his head, returns his gaze to Charles's hard red cock. He's seen it before, of course, when Charles has let him fuck him, but never from this angle, and certainly not this close. Don't be ridiculous, he thinks at Charles. You have the ability to know precisely, exactly what I want.
Charles makes a noise that is nothing but frustration, and his hand knocks loudly against the table at his side. "Look at me."
Erik raises his head and meets Charles's eyes. "What is it?" he says. "Do you need to hear it out loud, then? Would you like to hear me beg, Charles?"
Charles winces a little, at that, and Erik continues, keeping his voice just as cool, free of any hint of expression. "Do let me suck you, Charles. Let me have your cock - I want it so. Please, Charles-"
"Don't," Charles says, and Erik can't say why the irritation in his voice pleases him so. Charles lunges forward, his hands grabbing either side of Erik's face, and Erik allows himself to be held still and thoroughly kissed. Against his lips, Charles says, quiet but urgent, "Don't mock the fact that I care for you."
"Don't hold yourself back from me," Erik replies, just as forcefully. He is not one of Charles's charming limpid co-eds, to be bedded in a polite and gentleman-like fashion, making them breakfast in the morning and seeing them off again to their homes. All while everything important of Charles stays hidden away in the dark. He wants Charles as he's never wanted anyone in his life, and he wants all of him; what point is there, otherwise? Give it all to me, Charles, he thinks. You know what I can take.
Charles kisses him again, softly and overwhelmingly sweet, and then Erik can feel the familiar projection of Charles's mind. Does it always have to be a test of what you can take, my friend? Charles thinks as he strokes his thumb across Erik's cheek.
I'm afraid I'm just horribly greedy, Erik thinks, and though he can still feel Charles's worry, it's eclipsed by his amusement, which pleases him. He lowers his mouth finally down and takes in Charles's cock for the first time; he revels in the satisfaction he feels as Charles's concern fades even farther into the background, his mind strumming with nothing but the pleasure Erik is giving him.
Charles's cock is blood-warm, heavy on his tongue. It feels far larger like this than it ever did in his hand, filling Erik's mouth completely. There's nothing but wetness and skin, and each time he moves he can hear the soft obscene sounds, unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room. He breathes in steadily through his nose, the strong scent of Charles's sex.
The weight of Charles's hands in his hair is a welcome pressure, a gentle but unyielding guide showing him what he likes and what he wants. Charles's thoughts whisper to him, yes and wonderful and lovely. Charles's concentration gets odd during sex, in a way Erik finds fascinating; it's not that he loses control, because Charles could never do that. But sometimes it seems like the edges go fuzzy, in a way, between what is Charles and what is shared, and Erik can hear things Charles normally wouldn't consciously project to him, the messy and half-formed thoughts he feels so strongly.
Lovely, lovely, so lovely.
With one hand, Erik cups Charles's balls. The other he rests on Charles's thigh, gouging his fingernails into the skin. Charles hisses, half with pain and half in pleasure, and he tightens his grip on Erik's hair.
"You always have to make a mark, don't you?" Charles says out loud. His voice is strained.
Erik grunts in agreement around his mouthful of cock, and the tension in Charles's body increases even further; Erik can tell how close he is to the breaking point.
"It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment," Charles says, fumbling through the words, "but you must know how unnecessary--"
Erik digs his nails in deeper, and swallows, and then Charles is coming, his semen filling Erik's mouth at the same time the reflection of his orgasm fills Erik's mind. It takes an immense amount of self-discipline for Erik to hold back his own completion.
He pulls off Charles and turns away, spitting the semen out into one of Charles's immaculate handkerchiefs. He rests there for a moment, getting his breath back, returning to himself and giving Charles time to do the same.
When he turns back, Charles is slumped in the chair. Erik's gaze flits from his open, red mouth to his softened cock, from his crumpled trousers to where his hand rests against the half-moon marks on his thigh. Charles looks -- undone. Undone, and unbearably young.
He moves back, nudging Charles's hand away from the marks, and licks away the blood where his nails have broken the skin.
Erik, Charles thinks, and it's the urgency of the thought as much as Charles's grip on him that pulls Erik up to his feet. Charles leans forward, locking his knees around Erik's legs and enclosing him in the cradle of his thighs. He looks up to Erik's face - searching for something, though Erik has no idea what - and then he focuses his attention back down, his fingers swift and nimble on the buttons of Erik's trousers. Erik almost smiles at Charles's sense of victory when his hand finally reaches Erik's cock.
Erik does not come at the first touch of Charles's hand, of course, but he does not last much longer, either. Not while watching Charles's serious, intent face, his attention completely and utterly devoted to this single thing. To Erik.
He doesn't make a sound when he orgasms - he never does - but after all, he doesn't need to. Charles rests his head against Erik's stomach, cheek against Erik's skin, and Erik lays his hand on Charles's hair. From this angle, he cannot see Charles's face, and he knows Charles is hiding his smile.
dissolve (in the heat of your charm)
by Pearl-o
Charles/Erik, NC-17, ~1300 words. Thanks to
olivia_circe for beta. Also posted at AO3 here.Summary: Erik gives his first blowjob. As always, he and Charles have a lot of emotions.
*****
As it happens, this is a sexual act that Erik has never performed before. His previous sexual encounters had almost all been with women, for one thing, and for another, without exception they had tended to be brief, designed to get to the goal without delay. It's only now, with his newer experiences to compare, that Erik has realized how little he was truly attracted to any of the unexceptional humans his life has shown him.
So - from this end, at least - fellatio is a new experience for him, and he is going to take his time, measure it out in slow deliberate steps. Choosing to give Charles this intimacy feels important, and he will let it play out at his own pace. He can't remember another time he's knelt before a man, and yet here he is, settled between Charles's legs, his palms flat on Charles's thighs, as Charles sits before him in his armchair.
He undoes the metal of Charles's belt with a gesture, pulls it out of the loops and lets it fall to the side of the chair. He undoes the buttons of the trousers with his hands, letting his fingers brush against the bulge in Charles's underwear, enjoying the small breath Charles lets out at the contact. He moves the trousers and briefs out of the way, wrapping his hand around Charles's erection, and then he pauses for a long moment.
Charles takes his thoughtfulness for hesitation. He vibrates with uncertainty, and Erik glances up to see his worry. "Erik - I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
Erik shakes his head, returns his gaze to Charles's hard red cock. He's seen it before, of course, when Charles has let him fuck him, but never from this angle, and certainly not this close. Don't be ridiculous, he thinks at Charles. You have the ability to know precisely, exactly what I want.
Charles makes a noise that is nothing but frustration, and his hand knocks loudly against the table at his side. "Look at me."
Erik raises his head and meets Charles's eyes. "What is it?" he says. "Do you need to hear it out loud, then? Would you like to hear me beg, Charles?"
Charles winces a little, at that, and Erik continues, keeping his voice just as cool, free of any hint of expression. "Do let me suck you, Charles. Let me have your cock - I want it so. Please, Charles-"
"Don't," Charles says, and Erik can't say why the irritation in his voice pleases him so. Charles lunges forward, his hands grabbing either side of Erik's face, and Erik allows himself to be held still and thoroughly kissed. Against his lips, Charles says, quiet but urgent, "Don't mock the fact that I care for you."
"Don't hold yourself back from me," Erik replies, just as forcefully. He is not one of Charles's charming limpid co-eds, to be bedded in a polite and gentleman-like fashion, making them breakfast in the morning and seeing them off again to their homes. All while everything important of Charles stays hidden away in the dark. He wants Charles as he's never wanted anyone in his life, and he wants all of him; what point is there, otherwise? Give it all to me, Charles, he thinks. You know what I can take.
Charles kisses him again, softly and overwhelmingly sweet, and then Erik can feel the familiar projection of Charles's mind. Does it always have to be a test of what you can take, my friend? Charles thinks as he strokes his thumb across Erik's cheek.
I'm afraid I'm just horribly greedy, Erik thinks, and though he can still feel Charles's worry, it's eclipsed by his amusement, which pleases him. He lowers his mouth finally down and takes in Charles's cock for the first time; he revels in the satisfaction he feels as Charles's concern fades even farther into the background, his mind strumming with nothing but the pleasure Erik is giving him.
Charles's cock is blood-warm, heavy on his tongue. It feels far larger like this than it ever did in his hand, filling Erik's mouth completely. There's nothing but wetness and skin, and each time he moves he can hear the soft obscene sounds, unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room. He breathes in steadily through his nose, the strong scent of Charles's sex.
The weight of Charles's hands in his hair is a welcome pressure, a gentle but unyielding guide showing him what he likes and what he wants. Charles's thoughts whisper to him, yes and wonderful and lovely. Charles's concentration gets odd during sex, in a way Erik finds fascinating; it's not that he loses control, because Charles could never do that. But sometimes it seems like the edges go fuzzy, in a way, between what is Charles and what is shared, and Erik can hear things Charles normally wouldn't consciously project to him, the messy and half-formed thoughts he feels so strongly.
Lovely, lovely, so lovely.
With one hand, Erik cups Charles's balls. The other he rests on Charles's thigh, gouging his fingernails into the skin. Charles hisses, half with pain and half in pleasure, and he tightens his grip on Erik's hair.
"You always have to make a mark, don't you?" Charles says out loud. His voice is strained.
Erik grunts in agreement around his mouthful of cock, and the tension in Charles's body increases even further; Erik can tell how close he is to the breaking point.
"It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment," Charles says, fumbling through the words, "but you must know how unnecessary--"
Erik digs his nails in deeper, and swallows, and then Charles is coming, his semen filling Erik's mouth at the same time the reflection of his orgasm fills Erik's mind. It takes an immense amount of self-discipline for Erik to hold back his own completion.
He pulls off Charles and turns away, spitting the semen out into one of Charles's immaculate handkerchiefs. He rests there for a moment, getting his breath back, returning to himself and giving Charles time to do the same.
When he turns back, Charles is slumped in the chair. Erik's gaze flits from his open, red mouth to his softened cock, from his crumpled trousers to where his hand rests against the half-moon marks on his thigh. Charles looks -- undone. Undone, and unbearably young.
He moves back, nudging Charles's hand away from the marks, and licks away the blood where his nails have broken the skin.
Erik, Charles thinks, and it's the urgency of the thought as much as Charles's grip on him that pulls Erik up to his feet. Charles leans forward, locking his knees around Erik's legs and enclosing him in the cradle of his thighs. He looks up to Erik's face - searching for something, though Erik has no idea what - and then he focuses his attention back down, his fingers swift and nimble on the buttons of Erik's trousers. Erik almost smiles at Charles's sense of victory when his hand finally reaches Erik's cock.
Erik does not come at the first touch of Charles's hand, of course, but he does not last much longer, either. Not while watching Charles's serious, intent face, his attention completely and utterly devoted to this single thing. To Erik.
He doesn't make a sound when he orgasms - he never does - but after all, he doesn't need to. Charles rests his head against Erik's stomach, cheek against Erik's skin, and Erik lays his hand on Charles's hair. From this angle, he cannot see Charles's face, and he knows Charles is hiding his smile.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
29/7/11 02:53 (UTC)(no subject)
30/7/11 00:52 (UTC)(no subject)
29/7/11 08:35 (UTC)"Don't mock the fact that I care for you."..."Don't hold yourself back from me," Erik replies, just as forcefully...Does it always have to be a test of what you can take, my friend?
Those lines were particularly moving and beautiful. What a wonderful dynamic you captured.
(no subject)
30/7/11 00:53 (UTC)