It all happens in a second: Steve's on him like a landslide, shoving Danny back, and pushing Danny's clothes down off his hips, and dropping like a stone at the same time as Danny's ass hits the mattress and bounces him up just enough for it to be a shock like smacking water at speed when Steve's pushing into his lap, and then --
And then it's his mouth, and his tongue, and Danny feels like he's being swallowed, the world gone hot and wet and narrowing down to nothing but Steve's mouth on him, while Steve attacks with the kind of dedication Danny would normally admire from a career soldier but which is currently dismantling his ability to do so much as breathe with a sledgehammer.
The only breath he can take, sharp and painful, and expulsed again in a "Christ, Steve," that sounds more like a swear than prayer.
One hand balancing himself, the other going to Steve's head, shaky with adrenaline and nerves, and it's too much for him, when his eyes open again, and he looks.
It's dark in this room, but there's enough dim starlight from the windows to illuminate it: the silhouette of Steve bent over him, between his legs. Outlining the edge of his shoulders, the back of his neck. And his mouth. His. Explosions chase their way up Danny's spine in a chain reaction. Steve's lips wrapped around him. Steve's tongue dragging against the most sensitive part of him. Steve, swallowing him. Steve, kneeling between his legs. Steve. Steve.
Striking a hard shudder that rolls through his body. Followed by another. Another. Every muscle now shaking like his fingers just were, from the strain of trying to keep it together when just the thought of what's happening right now, the thought of Steve's mouth on him, is enough to send him over the edge, embarrassingly quickly. It's Steve. It's Steve. The name, face, person he knows as well as himself. The name that's getting breathed out in stuttered groans now, ragged as his pulse.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-11-07 04:49 am (UTC)It all happens in a second: Steve's on him like a landslide, shoving Danny back, and pushing Danny's clothes down off his hips, and dropping like a stone at the same time as Danny's ass hits the mattress and bounces him up just enough for it to be a shock like smacking water at speed when Steve's pushing into his lap, and then --
And then it's his mouth, and his tongue, and Danny feels like he's being swallowed, the world gone hot and wet and narrowing down to nothing but Steve's mouth on him, while Steve attacks with the kind of dedication Danny would normally admire from a career soldier but which is currently dismantling his ability to do so much as breathe with a sledgehammer.
The only breath he can take, sharp and painful, and expulsed again in a "Christ, Steve," that sounds more like a swear than prayer.
One hand balancing himself, the other going to Steve's head, shaky with adrenaline and nerves, and it's too much for him, when his eyes open again, and he looks.
It's dark in this room, but there's enough dim starlight from the windows to illuminate it: the silhouette of Steve bent over him, between his legs. Outlining the edge of his shoulders, the back of his neck. And his mouth. His. Explosions chase their way up Danny's spine in a chain reaction. Steve's lips wrapped around him. Steve's tongue dragging against the most sensitive part of him. Steve, swallowing him. Steve, kneeling between his legs. Steve. Steve.
Striking a hard shudder that rolls through his body. Followed by another. Another. Every muscle now shaking like his fingers just were, from the strain of trying to keep it together when just the thought of what's happening right now, the thought of Steve's mouth on him, is enough to send him over the edge, embarrassingly quickly. It's Steve. It's Steve. The name, face, person he knows as well as himself. The name that's getting breathed out in stuttered groans now, ragged as his pulse.
He needs it to stop. He wants it to never stop.