Untitled [Peter/Edmund]
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Peter/Edmund
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hand jobs. Blow jobs.
Disclaimer: Narnia and all characters affiliated with are the property of C.S. Lewis.
Summary: I slip my finger from your mouth with a soft, wet sound.
A/N: Drabble - short, PWP. Set in the real world.
Edmund’s POV
What brothers do in the middle of the night.
I stand by the window, warm breath fogging the cool glass. And I can feel you behind me before our bodies touch. And then they do touch, and the nerves beneath my skin come to life.
Your cold hands are freezing on my warm skin, like a chill breeze as they glide over my hips. But your lips are hot and your tongue is wet and your teeth are sharp against my neck.
With closed eyes I sway, slow as slow as slow can be, pressed against your body tight. And your fingers travel low and lower, digging into tender flesh.
I sigh and bite my lip, and your breath is soft behind my ear, warm and gentle, full of secrets, tickling my skin just like the wind. The beat of your heart, fast and hungry in your chest, pounds against my back.
My lips part, I inhale sharp and quick. The muscles of my stomach clench, my hand reaches back to touch your face and I slip my thumb between your lips.
I groan and arch and gasp and squirm and you curl your fingers around my cock. My body twitches and you chuckle, sucking my thumb inside your mouth.
Slow and good you stroke me, your hand no longer cold.
I rock my hips to a gentle rhythm, and make noises that tickle your flesh. I wind my fingers through your honey hair, pulling and tugging and… I’m going to come.
When I do, its with a moan, low and quiet and just for you. You wrap your tongue around my thumb, sliding your hand out of my pants. And you scratch your short nails across my stomach, smearing me with my seed.
I slip my finger from your mouth with a soft, wet sound.
You talk to me and your voice is low, laced with arousal. And your breathing is shallow and your need is hard and obvious against my back.
I stumble with you toward the bed, then kneel between your legs. And I watch as you free your cock from your pants, and I watch as you can’t help but stroke.
Leaning forward, I grab your wrist and pull your hand away.
And then I slide you inside my mouth, deeper than I should. And then I stop and wait as the muscles of my throat protest.
You’re louder than me, but not too loud. And each moan slides over my skin. You tilt your head back, and shut your eyes tight and open your mouth and groan.
Hot and thick, your seed hits my throat. I swallow without difficulty. And I kiss my way to your neck, to your mouth, and I move my tongue against your lips.
And you taste yourself and I taste you.
And that’s what brothers do in the middle of the night.