Harry's hips bumping up against John makes the man laugh. He's so glad for it, seeing Harry like this. The man needs touch, that much is obvious, and John is glad to give it to him in return for such vibrant reactions. He could tie Harry to the bed and spend a week cataloging each flex of his muscles, each hoarse sound, and exactly how to pull each one out of him. The thought of keeping Harry in this bed like a prized thing is so tempting. Unrealistic, but still appealing. He'll box that up, keep it for a lonely night.
When Harry sits up to watch, John lifts up himself, kneeling in against Harry until they're flush and then just tipping himself forward. Their hips cup together, the curve of Harry's ass on John's legs, lifting him just slightly and pressing him down onto his shoulders. Holding himself up with one hand, John runs a finger over Harry's lip, smoothing the teeth marks there. "I'm sorry, were you getting lonely up here?" He asks with rich humor, staring at Harry with a smile in his eyes. "Can't have that."
The bag is barely in his reach, and grabbing it rocks his hips against Harry's. It's impossible not to feel every tiny movement in extravagant detail, from the thrum of Harry's pulse to the way his cock twitches. Maybe John notices and takes his time settling in, shifting around. Hello there.
A cool raspberry is dragged over Harry's bitten lower lip, meant to soothe and to entice. The red it leaves is painted imperfectly, dripping down the corner of Harry's mouth, but John is quick to clean up his mess; a quick swipe of his tongue collects the stray drops before he sucks the juice off Harry's mouth.
He pops the berry into his mouth, carefully watching for Harry's reaction.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-12-16 07:16 am (UTC)When Harry sits up to watch, John lifts up himself, kneeling in against Harry until they're flush and then just tipping himself forward. Their hips cup together, the curve of Harry's ass on John's legs, lifting him just slightly and pressing him down onto his shoulders. Holding himself up with one hand, John runs a finger over Harry's lip, smoothing the teeth marks there. "I'm sorry, were you getting lonely up here?" He asks with rich humor, staring at Harry with a smile in his eyes. "Can't have that."
The bag is barely in his reach, and grabbing it rocks his hips against Harry's. It's impossible not to feel every tiny movement in extravagant detail, from the thrum of Harry's pulse to the way his cock twitches. Maybe John notices and takes his time settling in, shifting around. Hello there.
A cool raspberry is dragged over Harry's bitten lower lip, meant to soothe and to entice. The red it leaves is painted imperfectly, dripping down the corner of Harry's mouth, but John is quick to clean up his mess; a quick swipe of his tongue collects the stray drops before he sucks the juice off Harry's mouth.
He pops the berry into his mouth, carefully watching for Harry's reaction.