smokingmirror | Fanfic: Body Language (1/1) (Reply)

Title: Body Language
Author: Avarice
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fox/Collin
Spoilers: -
Summary: Communication without words.
Word Count: 1232
Date First Posted: 28-05-2003
Date Revised: 26-05-2011
Beta: Tink.
Awards: -
Notes: Just smut, really.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ

It takes but a moment for Fox to communicate his desires to Collin. A glance, a hooded stare, lips turning up slightly to bare his white teeth. Collin responds with lowered eyes -- almost coquettish, but never quite that innocent -- and a finger that lazily traces down his neck in a sensual and careless gesture.

This form of teasing never lasts for long though, and all too soon they are in each other's arms, close enough that one might think the two separate men are trying to become a single entity.

Fox touches every part of Collin he can reach without taking his lips away from the blond's sweet mouth or throat or chest. Collin hitches his leg up over Fox's hip, allowing their erections to grind together with frenzied movements.

Collin stumbles back and is pinned to the wall with the force of Fox's enthusiasm. It also increases the force of the friction between them.

Fox is the most benevolent plunderer. He takes everything that Collin can give and more, but not without giving in return. He could be poetic and tell Collin he is a conquistador, searching for the most guarded and beautiful foreign treasures, but Collin would rather Fox used his mouth for things that aren't talking.

They have christened this wall many times before. In fact, they have christened most of the apartment. From the sofa to the bedroom, the kitchen counter to the shower wall, they have done it all.

Collin's legs become weaker, and he has a harder time supporting himself under the onslaught of pleasure coming from Fox. His thin shirt bunches up behind him as they both slide to the floor. Fox straddles Collin's legs, now pinning him to the floor.

Fox's blue eyes sparkle with mischief as he pulls his blue shirt over his head. Muscles ripple his lean form under dark skin. The hoop in his nipple sparkles alluringly, and Collin cannot help reaching up to touch it. This gives Fox pause, but only for a moment.

Deft hands push Collin's shirt up, but don't remove it. Fox licks and loves Collin's chest with a desperate kind of attention. Desperate because he is still grinding his dick into Collin's, fuelled by the blond's whimpers and sounds of pleasure.

Those sounds become louder as Fox gets Collin's jeans down below his hips. Collin's fitful writhing carry them the rest of the way down his legs, until he is finally able to kick them away. Too eager with Collin's old boxers, Fox tears them down -- quite literally. The worn fabric rips -- splits right down the middle -- exposing Collin quite completely. The momentary surprise at the ripping underwear is forgotten.

Fox enjoys being prepared. As he removes his own pants, he retrieves the small tube of KY that is in the pocket. Fox does not enjoy undoing screw-top lids. He twists it open roughly with his teeth, spitting the cap across the room. His tight grip on the small tube squeezes some of the viscous liquid out, dropping onto Collin's abdomen.

Collin shivers with anticipation, looking with somewhat frantic with need. He knows as well as Fox that he needs this now. Fox maneuvers back from straddling Collin's legs. He takes the shortest moment to appreciate Collin's form, naked from mid-stomach down, before touching his knees. The subtle order is there, and Collin complies, parting his legs automatically.

Fox scrapes his nails down the sensitive skin of Collin's inner thighs, brushing over Collin's curly dark blond hair. There's something about it that he loves, he always takes time to appreciate its light colour with fascination before getting down to business.

Fox squeezes a good amount of the clear gel onto his hands and rubs them together. He touches Collin with practiced movements, accounting for the blond's movements in response to his fingers. They are abrupt and sudden, requiring him to anticipate and be careful if he doesn't wish to hurt him.

Collin throws his head back, light hair in a halo around his head, neck stretched and Adam’s apple bobbing as he is prepared. Fox runs both hands down his own cock, coating it well. He runs the backs of his hands down the inside of Collin's thighs, before curling them around to grip Collin's ass and lift him up.

He presses against Collin, before looking down into his face. Fox likes watching the amber eyes roll back into the blond's head as he pushes forward. He pushes, and they do roll, in time with the groan coming from Collin's throat.

With his wet hands, Fox takes hold of bunches of Collin's t-shirt, giving him purchase. Fox lies over Collin's chest, fists curled in the fabric of the blond's clothes, thrusting deeply, and making the man beneath him scream, curse and yell.

Collin has always made loud noises, he has never held back vocally. He wants more of Fox, and pulls him further down, wanting lips and teeth and anything else. Fox obliges. He takes one hand away from Collin's shirt to hold the blond's wrists above his head and bite him -- neck and throat, and takes Collin's bottom lip by the teeth almost roughly. He leaves marks on Collin's neck and chest. Some will be gone in minutes; others will take days to fade.

Collin loosens his hands from Fox's grip and reaches down between the dark-skinned moving body and himself to wrap a hand around his cock. He jerks as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive organ. Fox's attention is also inexorably drawn down. He rotates his hips, and, combined with Collin's grip on himself, makes the blond cry out. Fox watches Collin take up the same rhythm, matching him stroke to thrust.

The visual stimulation is almost as good as the physical. He is determined to finish Collin soon. This sort of fuck isn't about stamina, it's about getting much pleasure and quickly.

Collin's back begins to arch off the ground, his voice choking and catching with passion. Fox maintains his fast, steady thrusts, feeling the pressure build up within him, too. Collin cries out again -- no words, just incoherent sounds -- as he climaxes. His hands fall away, though his body still moves in time with Fox.

He cannot hold on longer than that. Fox grunts with exertion, hand leaving Collin's shirt to crook underneath one of his knees. His shoulders shake as he comes, head dropping forward so the long shards of his hair obscure his face. Fingers in the shirt loosen, leaving a scrunched, wet handprint.

Collin gathers enough strength to pull his shirt up and off, wiping his hands on it. He reaches up to cup Fox's face, and also pull the spent man down to lie on top of him. Fox moves willingly, lying between Collin's legs and having them curl up around him while the blond's mouth joins with his. They kiss with passion and a loving intensity.

Collin groans as Fox pushes himself up. He wrinkles his nose at their wet, clammy and sticky state, and glances at the man above him.

It takes but a moment for Fox to communicate his desires to Collin. A raised eyebrow, sparkling eyes, pink tongue bitten between his teeth. Collin responds with slightly parted lips and half-lidded eyes, looking up at Fox through a veil of blond hair.

The decision made, they move quickly and in synergy to the bathroom, to christen the shower once again.