Yeah. Not always. [ Just most of the time. The least dom-y (ha) top, everyone. ]
It's just — if I'm the one doing it there's this thing that happens sometimes. So I thought I'd let you know if I was the one topping. Doesn't matter if I'm not.
[Sorry. Finch didn't mean to laugh, but he does, friendly but definitely just laughing. He sits forward a bit, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Luckily he didn't just take a sip of beer.]
[ Pause. He's not sure what he's feeling, a gradual build up from embarrassed to... a little excited, maybe? Curious? He's never been on the receiving end, so he wonders, after a lot of hesitation, ]
[ One of the conversations of all time. Dom nods, looking off, answers leading to silence. Is there anything else he wanted to ask? Not at the moment, which means it's time to course-correct: he puts the soda can on the bedside table, then turns back to Finch, hand on his cheek, leaning in for a kiss. ]
[Finch snorts - almost like he's annoyed, but he's not. Not with Dom. Maybe with the universe for setting him up to feel kind of funny - but it eases away. He turns a bit, own hand up to cup Dom's cheek, and he leans into the kiss tasting of smoke and smelling also of a hint of blood. It's always on him, somehow.
He licks at Dom's lower lip, pressing into the kiss a little firmer.]
[ It gets Dom's interest, that trace of blood, and he acts as though the first sip of water made him realize how thirsty he was — quietly eager, which translates into something that looks like confidence, lips parted to breathe before he's chasing Finch's tongue with his own.
He moves, getting up, both hands on Finch's shoulders so he can climb on his lap, knees on the mattress next to the older man's thighs. It remains a makeout for now — an extremely horny one — trying one angle, another, like a first time that's making up for how long it took them to get here. ]
[Dom makes it easy for Finch, who doesn't like to think. He either crashes together with someone and fumbles his way through it or he falls into familiar rhythm, which for him now - is in having someone else seated on him, someone whose neck he holds in one hand and hip in the other. He kisses Dom slowly, gently, getting acquainted with the ways they fit together best. Dom's weight on his lap isn't insignificant, there's friction and a response, too.]
[ He pauses, looks at Finch like he's making sure it's still him, making sure this is really happening. He's not sure he recognizes himself, probably because he's the one that accepts someone's advances, not the one who initiates after inviting them to his room for… this.
The moment is over when he leans in to keep going, hand on Finch's chest to listen to the heart beat that's under his palm. He's not sure how convenient it'll be, lifting himself to undo Finch's pants, zipper down so he can slide a hand into his underwear, fingers wrapping around his cock. He anchors himself with a hand on Finch's nape, pausing the kiss to look at him. To check if this is okay, or if he should be doing something else, before lowering his gaze to his lap. ]
[Finch's breathing is tightly controlled, his heart steady - the inadvertent side effect of training himself to control his own bloodflow and that of others is in the way he subconsciously tries to keep himself steady. The irony is he never quite applied that control to keeping himself from popping tents in his pants, made a little harder still by the touch of Dom's palm.
He lets out a soft, hot sigh. Then looks at Dom, eye to eye.]
It can- just be this.
[Unless Dom wants more. Finch's fingers are already opening Dom's pants to mirror the motion, to mimic the same touch. They don't need to fuck, necessarily, but he's not writing it off, either.]
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[He shrugs.]
You can't have one night stands here, not easily.
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[ and it makes him realize that he. likes that? he's met people he really likes when their first interaction was sex. ]
... I like blowjobs. And to, uhm. Bite, like necks and stuff. Doesn't have to be hard or anything.
Do you, uh. [ uhhh ] You know... let people fuck you? Or is it just you doing it?
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[Unless you're a woman with a strap or Iggy when he's adventurous.]
I have been on both sides though. Before? So I'm not against it. You a top?
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It's just — if I'm the one doing it there's this thing that happens sometimes. So I thought I'd let you know if I was the one topping. Doesn't matter if I'm not.
[ Pause. And he drinks. ]
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[It does not click, so he looks at Dom with a curious head tilt. Do you cum too fast or something, lil' bro?]
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I know about knotting.
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Yeah, so. It's whatever. Since we're not doing that.
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[Hate to. Really.]
Doesn't mean that's guaranteed not to happen.
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[ who told him about the times it happened — outside? panik ]
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[ Pause. He's not sure what he's feeling, a gradual build up from embarrassed to... a little excited, maybe? Curious? He's never been on the receiving end, so he wonders, after a lot of hesitation, ]
... How big?
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[Thanks, now he's feeling the embarrassment trade off. He shrugs.]
It's never like, killed Iggy. So.
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Yeah, uhm. He didn't mind it much.
[ Oh, the things he wants to ask. Mostly to know he's not alone. ]
Does yours get bigger? Like, longer?
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[Gesturing. In Iggy.]
It just got uncomfortable, I guess.
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[ Makes... sense. ]
Can I ask one more thing.
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[Cannot get more open than discussing knotted dicks together over drinks, right?]
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Do you... [ Dragging, dragging. ] Come a lot. Like a lot a lot.
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[Yes.]
But only - when, yeah.
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He licks at Dom's lower lip, pressing into the kiss a little firmer.]
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He moves, getting up, both hands on Finch's shoulders so he can climb on his lap, knees on the mattress next to the older man's thighs. It remains a makeout for now — an extremely horny one — trying one angle, another, like a first time that's making up for how long it took them to get here. ]
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The moment is over when he leans in to keep going, hand on Finch's chest to listen to the heart beat that's under his palm. He's not sure how convenient it'll be, lifting himself to undo Finch's pants, zipper down so he can slide a hand into his underwear, fingers wrapping around his cock. He anchors himself with a hand on Finch's nape, pausing the kiss to look at him. To check if this is okay, or if he should be doing something else, before lowering his gaze to his lap. ]
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He lets out a soft, hot sigh. Then looks at Dom, eye to eye.]
It can- just be this.
[Unless Dom wants more. Finch's fingers are already opening Dom's pants to mirror the motion, to mimic the same touch. They don't need to fuck, necessarily, but he's not writing it off, either.]
What do you want to do?
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