[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.]
[ He searches Finch's eyes, hand still for a moment, thankful that he brought up what Dom hadn't thought about. There are people he's used to communicating with, but new hookups go with the flow, climbing until Dom's first sober thought is well past the orgasm. Breath caught in his throat when a warm hand makes contact with his dick, Dom nods, pause over. ]
I like this.
[ They can be close, have eye contact, not need to worry too much about logistics when all Dom needs to do is stroke him slowly as Finch grows stiff in his hand, and move his hips to slowly fuck into the older man's grasp. It has the simplicity of fooling around in his bedroom back home, or behind the corner no one at school would think to check. In a bathroom stall, in his car after they drove off to search for privacy with a view. A lewd photo album of memories that make him miss Teddie. ]
Can I… [ He doesn't finish the question, he just acts on it, leaning in to smell Finch's neck before caressing it with his tongue. Will there be any traces of the wolf there? Would it be enough to bring it out of Finch, if his body knew what Dom was? ]
[Dom's lips on his neck are nice, a familiar feeling in a new moment - he almost apologizes for the way his beard grazes against Dom's jaw when he turns his own, letting out a hot exhale as his hand moves. It's not exceptionally hot and heavy, but - it feels good. And it feels safe, too. He wants to exude that feeling over anything else.]
[ It's like a new discovery, this brand of comfort, this shade of safety. Something's happened in the last few months, going from a comfort zone within the circle of boyfriends to this new territory with older men, in their arms, making sure he feels good. Maybe they can tell how easy he can be to scare off, how he second-guesses everything for as long as he's sober.
Arousal wipes away most of his inhibitions, but he wants to try to shed them now, see what it's like to feel vulnerable and know that it'll be okay. No one will make fun of him, no one will use it against him. His hand stays there, moving, working his wrist, fingers circling the slit to steal any precome there, coating Finch's length with the thin layer of his own fluid. Dom's hips stutter too, oozing from the tip, making him shiver before he's moving again. Dom kisses Finch's neck, licks it, nuzzles him on the way to his ear, licking and nipping the soft flesh of his lobe. ]
[Finch's gaze is low-lidded and he concentrates on what he can feel instead of what he can see - there's the smell of sweat on Dom's skin, sticking to it, picked up as he noses against his throat and lays his lips over his pulse point to suck. Every motion he makes is slow, steady, assured. He pumps Dom's cock from base to tip, swiveling his hand and mirroring whatever motions Dom has in turn - faster, slower, letting him guide them along.]
[ He hides his face against Finch's neck, cheek on his shoulder, motioning himself up, closer, thrusting into Finch's hand while he keeps the older man stiff, warm, leaking. His breaths grow harsh, eyes shut, so immersed he forgets his expression, lips parted and eyes closed, moaning weakly. The orgasm comes soon, making him shudder and freeze, streaking Finch's hand and his stomach. Dom hangs in that moment, panting and holding on to Finch's shoulder, trying to gather himself so he can keep pumping him until he joins Dom's climax, too. ]
[Finch's hand keeps moving, though it slows - eventually stills, only slightly abrupt in that's when he feels himself start to peak. His breath is hot and shallow against Dom's neck, forehead pressed to his shoulder as he keeps his eyes shut and lets the heat coil in his gut before it erupts. He lets out a hissed, bitten back grunt, and then exhales hard and deep as pleasure rolls through him.]
[ It's hard to tell when he's supposed to stop, sometimes, until someone speaks up or they squeeze his arm to say enough, the orgasm is over, and what follows is an oversensitive protest from their own body. Dom's strokes slow down, this time before he felt Finch's shudder and the fluid that followed, hanging on to that weird lull between the build up and the heavy charge of arousal, leaving them both floating in the moment, anchored to each other. His breathing is steady by the time he lets go of Finch, looking down at the glossy mess on his hand, then their cocks so close together, back in the real world, back to being someone who never quite knows what he's doing. What he does know is that he'd like to not move for a while. ]
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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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I like this.
[ They can be close, have eye contact, not need to worry too much about logistics when all Dom needs to do is stroke him slowly as Finch grows stiff in his hand, and move his hips to slowly fuck into the older man's grasp. It has the simplicity of fooling around in his bedroom back home, or behind the corner no one at school would think to check. In a bathroom stall, in his car after they drove off to search for privacy with a view. A lewd photo album of memories that make him miss Teddie. ]
Can I… [ He doesn't finish the question, he just acts on it, leaning in to smell Finch's neck before caressing it with his tongue. Will there be any traces of the wolf there? Would it be enough to bring it out of Finch, if his body knew what Dom was? ]
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[Dom's lips on his neck are nice, a familiar feeling in a new moment - he almost apologizes for the way his beard grazes against Dom's jaw when he turns his own, letting out a hot exhale as his hand moves. It's not exceptionally hot and heavy, but - it feels good. And it feels safe, too. He wants to exude that feeling over anything else.]
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Arousal wipes away most of his inhibitions, but he wants to try to shed them now, see what it's like to feel vulnerable and know that it'll be okay. No one will make fun of him, no one will use it against him. His hand stays there, moving, working his wrist, fingers circling the slit to steal any precome there, coating Finch's length with the thin layer of his own fluid. Dom's hips stutter too, oozing from the tip, making him shiver before he's moving again. Dom kisses Finch's neck, licks it, nuzzles him on the way to his ear, licking and nipping the soft flesh of his lobe. ]
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Was that good?