[Elfangor cries out, feels the burn of his muscles straining to arch into that fleeting touch. Still can't move his arms, and that is both a blessing and a curse--it makes the teasing that much more intense, but oh, he needs to touch him. He stares up at Matt, a shuddering moan on his lips.]
Oh, oh fuck, Matt--! Please, need you to touch me, fuck me, need you--
[He trails off into nearly a sob, so desperate for more, needs Matt's touch like he needs the air in his lungs, thinks he might cease to exist without it.]
[Even without being touched, Matt shivers, presses closer to swallow that moan, then eases back enough to murmur against Elfangor's lips.]
So fucking gorgeous-- wanna taste you all over.
[And he starts to move down to make good on that promise, licking a line down from Elfangor's jaw, along that curve of his shoulder Matt loves, pausing to nip there, working his hand farther into the jeans and stroking, still teasing but not light, a drag of fingertips along his length.]
[He can't stop the needy sounds tumbling past his lips, or the way his entire body begins to tremble under the torrent of sensations, lips teeth tongue oh god his hand, bites down on his lip, only to gasp out,] Ohpleasepleaseplease--
[Matt nudges Elfangor's knees apart and settles between his legs. Leans in to pull the jeans zipper down with his teeth, glancing up to give a skewed grin. That begging's heady as hell, and as much as he'd like more of it, he's impatient, too. He drags everything out of the way, curls his hands tight around Elfangor's hips, and swallows him down, with a moan.]
[The wail is out of his mouth before he is even aware of it, rising too fast to stifle it. He thrashes his head to the side, needs to move, to press up into Matt, can't with his arms bound and Matt's fingers digging into his hips, and oh, fuck, Elfangor knows he won't last long like this.] Oh, oh god-- so close--
[Matt stares up, can't take his eyes off Elfangor's face, and digs in just a little with his nails, as if to say hold still a bit longer. Pulls his head slowly up without breaking his gaze, and sucks hard at the tip, swirling his tongue around, and he has to make a noise at that, a hum partway to a growl.]
[He has to bring his legs up to curl around Matt, to hold him close in the only way he's capable of right now, and he stares dazedly down at him, oh, so fucking amazing to watch him, god, his mouth, that possessive gleam in his eyes--
Elfangor cries out, an incoherent babble punctuated with ohgodohgod, and he's skating the edge when he murmurs on a whimper,] Oh, want you to come too-- Matt, please, wanna feel you inside--
[Matt lifts his head, stunned all over again at how words can hit him like a shock of electric heat.]
Don't wanna hurt you--
[There are ways around this, though, and one of the ways Elfangor seems fond of is always so damn hot for Matt, watching him, that he can't resist trying it himself. So he leans back in to wrap his mouth around him again, sliding a hand over and up and wetting his own fingers with swipes of his tongue over both their skin; slips his hand down and circles teasingly.]
[A new wave of heat crashes into him, seeing that curl of Matt's tongue, calling up images of the times he'd done that before to Matt, the look on his face, and oh god, being on the other end of it is just as heady. He rolls his hips, needs to press up into that teasing touch, oh, fuck, lets out a strangled sob, Matt's name a desperate plea on his lips.]
[Matt presses just the tips of two fingers in, remembering--is it a memory, or did he imagine it?--that was too much last time, or some time, or something. But, oh, fuck, even that much makes him think how amazing it would feel to move up and sink into that heat, bury himself and drag Elfangor closer, no space between them, and he scrabbles with his free hand at his own jeans, gets them open enough to cup himself through the boxers.]
[Elfangor tightens his legs around Matt's waist to arch up, bear down on his fingers, unable to resist the frantic need to impale himself on Matt, and he lets out a keening whine--heat, searing pressure, but oh, not enough, not yet.] Oh, oh, please, now, need you--
[Matt can't hold back a groan, and he moves up, shoving the boxers out of the way, sliding his fingers fully in. Leans to lick at Elfangor's ear, to breathe into it in a hot whisper,] Oh, fuck, need to be inside, tell me you can take it.
[He can feel himself shaking, oh, god, thinks he might fly apart from this, this consuming heat, the need to remove every space, every breath that separates them. Elfangor cries out, twists his hips to meet the thrust of Matt's fingers.]
Yes, fuck, yes, I can take it-- Please, ohgod, Mail-- [He turns to catch his lips in a messy, desperate kiss, tries to pour into it how ready he is, how much he needs to feel him, inside, everywhere.]
[Hearing his real name gasped out in need like that always enflames Matt, and he kisses back just as greedily, nipping at Elfangor's lower lip before pulling away, brings his own hand to his mouth and licks over his palm so he can make some attempt at slicking himself. And then he's driving in, dropping both hands to Elfangor's hips to drag him closer, and fuck, it feels as amazing as he'd imagined.]
[His breath catches in his throat and he stares up at Matt, loves seeing that look on his face--the one he gets when they are connected like this, that makes everything else, the rest of the world, seem muted in comparison.
For a moment, he forgets that his arms are still caught in his shirt, and tries to reach out, to cup Matt's face in his hands, and he lets out a low groan when he realizes he can't.]
Oh, fuck, let me touch you--
[But for as much as he wants that, a thrill runs up his spine at the thought that Matt might not allow it, might want to keep him like this, and it makes his skin feel impossibly hotter.]
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Oh, oh fuck, Matt--! Please, need you to touch me, fuck me, need you--
[He trails off into nearly a sob, so desperate for more, needs Matt's touch like he needs the air in his lungs, thinks he might cease to exist without it.]
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So fucking gorgeous-- wanna taste you all over.
[And he starts to move down to make good on that promise, licking a line down from Elfangor's jaw, along that curve of his shoulder Matt loves, pausing to nip there, working his hand farther into the jeans and stroking, still teasing but not light, a drag of fingertips along his length.]
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[He can't stop the needy sounds tumbling past his lips, or the way his entire body begins to tremble under the torrent of sensations, lips teeth tongue oh god his hand, bites down on his lip, only to gasp out,] Ohpleasepleaseplease--
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Elfangor cries out, an incoherent babble punctuated with ohgodohgod, and he's skating the edge when he murmurs on a whimper,] Oh, want you to come too-- Matt, please, wanna feel you inside--
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Don't wanna hurt you--
[There are ways around this, though, and one of the ways Elfangor seems fond of is always so damn hot for Matt, watching him, that he can't resist trying it himself. So he leans back in to wrap his mouth around him again, sliding a hand over and up and wetting his own fingers with swipes of his tongue over both their skin; slips his hand down and circles teasingly.]
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Yes, fuck, yes, I can take it-- Please, ohgod, Mail-- [He turns to catch his lips in a messy, desperate kiss, tries to pour into it how ready he is, how much he needs to feel him, inside, everywhere.]
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For a moment, he forgets that his arms are still caught in his shirt, and tries to reach out, to cup Matt's face in his hands, and he lets out a low groan when he realizes he can't.]
Oh, fuck, let me touch you--
[But for as much as he wants that, a thrill runs up his spine at the thought that Matt might not allow it, might want to keep him like this, and it makes his skin feel impossibly hotter.]
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