near the end of a long year

[tactician]

Rare was the day where the political sphere wasn't abuzz, even all the way down to the lower echelons of the profession, with secretaries and agencies worming their way into last minute flights for their significantly more powerful supervisors, but even on Ennaspie, Christmas morning was a quiet one. Rarer were still was a quiet morning where Weiler wasn't sound asleep when Locke woke to a room bathed in early light.

Instead, though Weiler had stayed in bed by Locke's side, he was sitting up against the headboard, blankets pulled up to his waist as he looked at something through a sliver of window behind the drawn curtains, a soft ivory they had settled on after (admittedly not much) consideration. He was sleepy-eyed when he noticed the shift in Locke's breathing from slumber to waking and looked down, but he didn't say anything quite yet.

He only smiled, in fact, and said nothing at all.

Comments

[tactician]

At every turn, Weiler was sure to wait for Locke to ease into the new sensations before he tried anything else. He kept a steady, vigilant focus on the man's pleasure even as he eased that first finger in, letting it sink inside slowly in conjunction with him taking Locke all the way into his mouth. Weiler pulled off, a steadying hand on Locke's hip, and pressed a kiss against his lower abdomen, looking up. If Locke gave the word, they could turn back at any point without any problem whatsoever.

"You all right there, Captain?"

[aphelionix]

He had grown a little dazed, brought back to attention as Weiler pressed a finger in. It was an odd sensation, admittedly a little trumped by Weiler's mouth, but there was a small brush of something that felt nice. The pleasure from it was different than simply his mouth alone, and he started to understand just a bit what Weiler had been talking about earlier.

"I'm fine," Locke answered, a hand reaching down to his shoulder, then his neck, where the tips of his fingers reached the ends of his hair. "Keep going."

[tactician]

Weiler turned to leave a small kiss on Locke's arm before sliding back down, taking his arousal in his free hand and stroking it in even, tight strokes - nothing too surprising or unexpected. They had been through more harrowing situations than this by far, both alone and together, but Weiler was humbled by the trust that Locke was putting in his hands, as he was with a great many things Locke had given him over the past year. There was something incredibly vulnerable in opening up this much for somebody.

He moved the first finger around, taking note of all the finely-tuned reactions in Locke's body until Locke had clearly gotten used to the sensation of intrusion. It happened quickly; it wasn't until the stretch that most people turned tail, but then again, there were those few that found the feeling pleasurable, as well.

"Tell me if you don't like it, Rhys," he said softly, nudging the second finger in alongside the first. Outside the privacy of this bedroom, the sound from the streets was getting a little louder. They had to be nearing the last ten or so minute stretch of the closing year.

[aphelionix]

At that point he had to consciously remind himself not to tense. It wasn't bad, and he had been through much worse pain, but Locke wasn't too fond of pain anyway. (Not quite Weiler's or his cup of tea.) The distraction of outside noise helped a little, and he wondered how close the new year was, but was still too focused to even glance at the clock.

"Still fine," he said, one hand lightly gripped in the sheets to place his tension elsewhere. But, surprisingly, pleasure struck first. Weiler's exploring wasn't without results, Locke's breath hitching when his fingers pressed up. It couldn't have been pain - unless that did turn out to be Locke's cup of tea after all - considering the twitch of his erection at the contact. He breathed out a surprised, "Ah."

[tactician]

Weiler glanced down, grinning wildly. "Oh," he said. "There it is."

So he pressed back up against it again, more deliberately this time.

[aphelionix]

Locke looked more flushed than before, the seize of his muscles caused by a good sensation rather than bad now. It was completely new, bringing with it a bit of heightened sensitivity, and a sudden regret that he hadn't tried this sooner.

"God, Heine," he mumbled, having raised a hand to his mouth, the indention of his teeth on his knuckles, "that feels amazing."

[tactician]

Expression softening, Weiler kissed the center of Locke's chest and continued to prepare him, every so often rubbing up against that perfect spot. He didn't want Locke to leave him behind, after all.

"Could you roll onto your stomach? It's easier for me to reach there this way, and you won't have to curl up either. It'll be more comfortable for you."

[aphelionix]

Nodding, he did lean up to steal a kiss first, firm and appreciative. Locke turned over, tucking a pillow partway under his chest, giving him a bit of leverage to glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see everything - maybe that was good, in some ways - but he was curious. But if things went well, this wouldn't be their only time doing it, he was sure.

[tactician]

This was new also, and save for the glances (of which there were many, of course) during morning showers or routines, Weiler was rarely given the chance to look at Locke's back so openly, largely because they inevitably turned to each other given enough time (which was a good thing in it of itself, too). Locke's back was broader and its muscles well-defined. The spattering of freckles at his shoulders went down a few inches in the back, darker than the front, and a delinquent-slash-soldier's lifestyle had carved a few light scars into his skin.

In this position, Weiler was free to map each one with his mouth, his hand working meanwhile to open Locke up to him and rub diligently, almost too much so, against the spot inside that made the man buck. As he slipped a third finger in, Weiler made note that he'd have to memorize it, like the million other things he knew about this man's body now, one that he knew almost as well as his own. He kissed over the shoulder blade that he remembered the Circle's tattoo was emblazoned on, invisible to the eye. It was that which had connected them first of all.

"I like your back," he commented quietly, sweeping hands across its ridges. The hand slid down to the small of his back and then around, urging Locke to lift his hips up a little so that Weiler could resume stroking. Locke liked seeing his face, but they didn't have to see each other for him to constantly reassure the man that he was right there with him every step of the way.

[aphelionix]

Locke smiled to himself as Weiler kissed and caressed his back. It felt nice, and he liked knowing his partner enjoyed another part of him. Maybe they could do this a little more often. (Or maybe he could convince him into back massages sometime.)

Despite the more straining discomfort of three fingers, Locke was holding up well. His fingers gripped the pillow under him as he kept his attention elsewhere. He leaned his hips up as directed, wincing as the movement agitated the stretching. The pain passed quickly, though, and he relaxed again. He had a new respect for Weiler for being so used to this - Locke hadn't exactly thought about how much went into this sort of thing.

[tactician]

Granted, unlike Locke, Weiler was much more used to doing this and being accustomed to the sensation made things much easier after the first few times. If Locke still liked the prospect after trying it out, maybe they'd reach that point one day with him, too.

Hovering over Locke with the man straining under him like this, Weiler was struck with a feeling of odd protectiveness. He was responsible for this man right now, for his comfort and his pleasure; did Locke feel the same when he was leaning over him?

He kissed a knob of Locke's spine near the middle of his back, his stroking picking up intensity now that the stretching was near complete. There was only so much preparation they could do, but Weiler wanted desperately to make this enjoyable for Locke just the same.

"Does it hurt?" he mumbled into the skin, ever vigilant. Locke had done the same for him their first time, so the least he could do was return the sentiment.

[aphelionix]

"Not so much anymore," he said, grunting into the pillow. The added stimulation of both was getting to him, though, and Locke wanted to last a good while for Weiler's sake. He cleared his throat, glancing over his shoulder as best he could. "I think you should... probably move on, though. Soon."

[tactician]

Withdrawing his hands, Weiler climbed up Locke's body and took advantage of his turned head to catch him in a kiss. They'd been a little lacking in that type of contact because of their positions.

"Are you sure?" he chuckled, nuzzling into Locke's cheek. "Not that I mind, because I really want to be inside you right now, Rhys, but I don't think rushing is a good idea."

[aphelionix]

"I don't want to finish too soon," Locke said honestly, closing his eyes as Weiler's nose nudged his cheekbone, smiling. "It'll be all right."

[tactician]

"Tell me if it becomes too much at any point," Weiler acquiesced, letting Locke relax back against the pillow as he slid back. For a moment, just front to back, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, Weiler felt incredibly content to be at this point with this person, and he showed it, showering a trail of kisses down the curve of Locke's back.

Settling back on his ankles, Weiler took only a few seconds to ready himself. He'd been waiting and though seeing Locke take pleasure was enough to keep him at steady bay, he was anticipating this just as much. In this position, Locke wouldn't have to stretch or bend to accommodate him, but there were enough challenges in the act already. He wanted, needed to make this good.

"I'll go slow, Rhys," Weiler promised gently, positioning himself over and around Locke before beginning to guide himself in. Almost immediately, he sucked in a breath and let his eyes fall half-closed. It was so warm and tight, the way his chest felt when Locke pushed into him and they were fully connected.

[aphelionix]

It was, admittedly, a lot more to take than a few fingers. Locke's breath seemed stuck in his throat, but he caught himself before he could tense, exhaling slowly as he calmed himself and relaxed. His head was bowed down, his shoulders a taut line. He didn't complain, though, or make any move to stop him. Even with the pain of being stretched that little bit more, Weiler had made it clear how worth it it would be. This meant as much to Locke as it did him, anyway; he wanted Weiler to be the one he could do anything with or could trust his body with.

"Doing fine," he said, with a breathless chuckle, "before you ask."

[tactician]

He was, but Weiler was adept enough at reading Locke to know that it wasn't so without some struggle. He leaned down on one elbow, careful not to burden Locke with his weight, and rubbed soothing circles against Locke's waist as Weiler bent his head to kiss his exposed nape. Weiler's tattoo lay there on his own body, and the spot retained some semblance of significance to him.

"Thank you, Rhys," he breathed, resting there for a moment, inside and around Locke. "You feel amazing."

[aphelionix]

Locke laughed again, staring down at the mattress. He felt incredibly warm, and whole.

"You don't have to thank me," said Locke, reaching back and caressing the bit of Weiler he could reach, along the expanse of his thigh. "I want this, too."

[tactician]

"Can I move?" Weiler asked, sounding almost shy as he mouthed over the shell of Locke's ear. (Sensitive there, wasn't he?)

[aphelionix]

Goosebumps slowly raised along Locke's neck, his shoulder drawing up reflexively. "You can."

[tactician]

With a last kiss against Locke's shoulder, Weiler lifted his upper body up on his arms and began to slowly move his hips. His breathing was heavy with restraint and concentration - every time he pushed in, he sought out that elusive spot that would make Locke see exactly why Weiler liked doing this so much. But even should that fail, he pulled back further and wrapped a hand around Locke's unforgotten erection, beginning to tightly stroke.

[aphelionix]

Locke groaned low in his throat, bracing himself on his elbows. That full feeling he had described earlier was apparent now, which was an odd feeling to get used to at first; until he felt the drag of pleasure with it. Coupled with the attention of Weiler's hand, it was almost overwhelming how good it felt. The pain was quickly overruled by everything else.

"Heine," he mumbled, pushing back against his hips.

[tactician]

Taking that as encouragement enough to continue what he was doing, Weiler smiled, a tinge of relief to it, and began to move a little bit quicker. It was still slow - he had found that they both liked it when they could take their time - and easy on Locke, but not slow enough that it was clearly a stunted speed for the sake of caution.

Outside, a great cheer rose up as the clock finally struck midnight and the new year rolled around. It was an echo of a world that the two of them were only vaguely aware of, lost as they were in each other.

Bent over Locke's lower back, Weiler watched the shift in muscles as Locke moved against him and ground forward with a groan. Being inside and moving so tightly with a person was an immensely pleasurable experience, but doing so and knowing that you were giving the other party pleasure in it of itself was just as good, especially since their relationship had always maintained an sense of reciprocity in it. Simply enough, they felt good when they made each other feel good.

(And how far gone was that?)

Gradually, Weiler sped up his motions, both the thrusting and the twist of his hand as he leaned into Locke's hips. He was careful never to go past what Locke was clearly comfortable with, but with a sensation as good as this one, he didn't think he could drag it out that much longer.

[aphelionix]

With each push Locke became more adjusted, and the sensation better and better. Now, he understood what Weiler had been talking about. The pleasure took him inside and out, overwhelming in how it stimulated every additional little feeling in small shocks. So this was how he felt, huh? (And maybe he felt even better about being able to please Weiler like this.)

He met Weiler's pushes until he sped up, where it was easier to let him take over. Despite the man obviously not having been in this position in a long time, he did know what he was doing, consistent in strokes and the new inner pleasure. All in all, Locke was glad this was the person he trusted this to - trusted everything to.

"Think I'm close, Heine," he warned, fists tight in the sheet under him. His breaths were shallow, interrupted by moans.

Locke very much underestimated it, though. Within a few seconds of saying that, a sudden spike of pleasure seized his muscles, and he sucked in a startled breath as he came. The residual waves made his hips flinch, leaving him gasping, his forehead bowed against the mattress.

[tactician]

Weiler whispered Locke's name in stuttered surprise, feeling the man tighten around him with a suddenness that he hadn't quite been expecting either. The hand underneath Locke's body came away slick when he finally removed it after stroking through the ebbing waves of the man's orgasm, and with it came a sense of relief and contentment that he could do this for Locke in another, new way.

As Locke's hips eased back down, Weiler remained with him, still flushed and caught on the slippery edge himself. He licked the excess off his fingers slowly and deliberately, not at all minding the taste as his eyes raked down Locke's form with a smile. With his free hand, he pet down Locke's side, feeling his chest expand and contract with every exaggerated breath.

He leaned down on his hands, either arm bracketing Locke's sides, and began moving again, moving against Locke with short, needy thrusts that felt more like in, in rather than in, out. "Rhys," he muttered, barely an exhale, "Rhys, Rhys."