agoodyarn | For notrosecolored : Bonnie and Clydin' It

For notrosecolored : Bonnie and Clydin' It

[continued from here]

Hernan doesn't spend much time in the water. He takes about an hour, since he figured Scott could use some time to even out, but once that hour is up, he makes his way inside and changes with a decent amount of speed. He also packs a small bag with a couple of changes of clothes; something nicer than what he currently had.

Done, he makes his way over to Scott and leans down to press a kiss to his lips.

"I am done. Ready to go?"

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He's not sure he needed that hour to 'even out', but he actually did and the fact that he's more than ready to pay attention to Hernan when he comes back and has given up arguing with himself is a pretty good indication than Hernan was probably right.

He puts a hand on Hernan's neck to return the kiss.

"Not quite." Well, Hernan had asked. "If I told you I wanted time alone, would you still let me have it?" He doesn't want it. He wants an answer.

Hernan tilted his head and he looked like nothing so much as a very confused Doberman.

"...of course. Why is this a question?"

He leaned back a little.

"I would even make sure to focus my hearing elsewhere that you might have privacy. If you asked for such a thing."

Which was simultaneously making sure that Scott knew that that was an option and making sure that Scott knew that he had to specify that.

"It's a question because I don't actually know you very well and the last thing you said about this was that you wouldn't let go. I didn't know how far that extended."

Now he did, and he was relieved and felt better. He would, however, know to ask if he wanted privacy. ...Scott rarely really wanted privacy. He held his hand up to Hernan, so he could use that leverage to be pulled to his feet.

Hernan actually winced a little.

"My heart, mi vida. My heart will not let go. I am an adult, after all. I know that sometimes, solitude is necessary."

"If you don't think adults can pull that crap, you're wrong." Because Scott was pretty damned prone to it, himself, even if he recognized it was bullshit. "I'm still going to take your word for it. " He leaned in, nipped Hernan's jaw very softly, and inclined his head toward the house. "You want a change of clothes or me to take advantage of the lack of them."

"They can," he leaned in for a kiss in return, "but they are not Superman, hmm?"

Teasing, though there's a grain of truth in there. When there's literally shit and diddle someone can do to stop you 99% from doing exactly what you want, you either respect people's boundaries or you admit that you're a goddamn monster.

Then he hefted the bag in his hand in front of Scott.

"Already done. And more clothes packed. Though they can always stay in the bag."

"No." But some of them were telepaths and somehow that was... better and worse? It was a shaky allegory, but Scott was holding onto it.

"Drop the bag and your pants."

The bag was dropped. He did one better and tugged his shirt off before opening his jeans and shoving them down his hips. They slid the rest of the way down by themselves.

"Suitable?"

It was odd, but the idea of fucking Hernan had yet to enter Scott's mind - but he clearly had no problem asking for and taking what he wanted. Maybe it was just the way he was wired to seek connection, still, maybe it was something about Superman, maybe it was something else entirely.

Whatever it was, it wasn't intimidation or 'submission'.

Because he was still bossy.

"Good enough," he agreed, then stepped back, dropped and within the space of maybe a half second and without any foreplay had Hernan's cock down his throat.

Hernan was just fine with that. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

"Mmmm, mi vida..."

His hands made their way to Scott's hair, one tightening as the other started stroking back and down, avoiding the face.

In turn, the hands in his hair were just fine with Scott. He actually arched his neck a little, against the tighter grip but with the stroke, swallowed hard and then settled into place doing just, exactly, what he wanted to be doing.

Which was using his tongue, his lips, and even the barely there suggestion of his teeth, his throat, to get Hernan off - and to make him feel good.

Sex was apparently a big damned deal to him with Hernan, and well. Hernan could complain if he wanted, but Scott basically intended to make sure sex stayed so good that Hernan didn't want to.

Hernan was not floating, but it wasn't his legs keeping him upright. No, he was far too busy focusing on what Scott was doing and lazily rocking back and forth. He'd been, to some degree, on edge all day. But here, in this place, his place, their place for the moment, there was nothing sweeter than this.

Hernan was not complaining. Hernan would not BE complaining.

"Soon, mi querido."

Scott pulled back and stopped. He didn't move away, certainly not far enough to let Hernan slip from his mouth, but enough to breathe easily and for his own motion to stop.

And then he waited, and he watched - looked up at Hernan's face.

He breathes in a great heaving huff, pupils blown wide as he looks down.

"Teasing?"

He pulls back just far enough to say, "No."

Not a tease, a... test and a question. Then he's right back, only with everything redoubled - heat, wetness, suction, even his teeth and his hands on Hernan's hips and really, truly, now putting everything he has into it.

Whatever the test was, Hernan passed - with the perfectly right answer.

Hernan's very happy to have passed. Mostly because of everything that comes with passing.

He tips over the edge soon enough after that, fingers tightening in Scott's hair, breath coming hard as he loses himself in the other man.

He wants to lay with Scott on the beach and hold him for a time. He wants--

"Lay with me?"

Scott doesn't need to be asked a second time. He simply curls down beside Hernan and wraps around and partially over him. He's a little breathless, a little sandy, but he's completely, completely willing to curl up close.

He pulls Scott as much against him as on top of him and can't help but press a few kisses into his hair.

He says nothing. There's no words he needs here. He has what he wants and needs. He has Scott in his arms, against his body, and perfect kisses whenever he wants them.

Scott nudged at Hernan's jaw and used that as a means of dislodging his glasses to fall into the sand without letting go of the man he was now on top of. He tucked his head down, kept his eyes closed, pressed closer. Closer than would seem possible. Got his hand in Hernan's hair and held on there, too.

Then he didn't sleep but did drift, just a little. Slow breathing, even pulse, laxness in his muscles under the warm sun and sound of the waves. Once he hit that, he once again fell into synch with Hernan's breathing and simply... was.

Something about this place made him want to forget everything.

He had spent enough time watching Scott, seeing how his muscles moved and shifted, how his heart beat and his lungs pulled breath from the air. This laxness, the looseness of his muscles, the sweetness with which he curled in close to him...

His hands ran down Scott's back, up and down, keeping his movements just irregular enough not to encourage sleep but just relaxation. Moments of peace were rarer than those of sleep, after all.

There's so much Scott isn't saying. Not because he's hiding anything, but because he's using his presence and the weight of his body and evenness of how he breaths to show it. Much like he believes, more fully, in what Hernan's hands on his back are telling him, even what the taste of come in his mouth says, than anything said.

He doesn't for one moment believe that Hernan will never let go. Sooner or later Superman is going to wake up and realize just who and what he's crawled in bed with and that will be the end of it.

He does believe that he's wanted in the moment, though, because he has tangible evidence of it.

"You want to remind me of why I left here the first time?"

"Not particularly," he admitted with a low snort. "Though I will have to go and retrieve our things soon."

"I can't stay here." He wanted to. God, he wanted to, but he couldn't. "At least while we're out there, we're moving the direction I need to be going and I can tell myself I'm making my way back."

"Then perhaps we come back here once a day to keep your head from aching, a taste as we travel."

He leaned in and nuzzled at Scott's throat.

"How is that?"

"It's your home, Hernan. If you're willing to detour once a day to come back, we can do that. If you want to stay here for longer periods of time or do something else and catch up with me as I head back, I'm all right with that, too." The nuzzling was nice.

And Scott really didn't want to move, but he made himself. He pushed up, kissed Hernan briefly and then slid off to the side.

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For notrosecolored : Bonnie and Clydin' It

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