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merryfuture2023-07-12 01:38 pm
staygame) wrote in merryfuture2023-07-12 01:38 pm
i told sunset about you: swallow your heart (2020)
swallow your heart (ao3 link, see original work for author's notes) | i told sunset about you, teh/oh-aew, explicit, 1k words
tags: blow jobs, not canon compliant, extended scene, no archive warnings apply
---
Teh doesn't know what he's doing. He'd only intended to scratch Oh-aew's back, but now he's leaning in, smelling his own soap, his shampoo on Oh-aew, and the desire kindling in his body bursts into flames. He's engulfed with it. In an instant, he can't touch Oh-aew enough.
His hands slide around to Oh-aew's belly, and Oh-aew lets himself be tugged back, but it's still not close enough. Teh's feet slip uselessly on the carpet as he tries to pull Oh-aew flush against him. Oh-aew throws his head back onto Teh's shoulder, his mouth dragging wetly across Teh's face, his hair. The fabric of Oh-aew's t-shirt (of his t-shirt, the one he'd given to Oh-aew before the shower, too big on Oh-aew's frame) bunches under Teh's hands. If he turned his head any more, he'd be kissing Oh-aew's neck.
欲火 , Teh's manic mind produces. 欲, desire, and 火, fire. He is burning up from the inside.
He's groping Oh-aew's chest, fingers spread wide to touch as much of Oh-aew as he can, when Oh-aew whimpers, and the sound cuts loud through the quiet room.
The two of them still. Teh releases his grip on Oh-aew's shirt. He sits back on his hands, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. He's hard in his shorts, which is weird, because he's never thought that touching another boy could turn him on.
Oh-aew turns, twisting to look at Teh. His face is red, twin spots of color in his cheeks and for some reason, he remembers the hibiscus, how soft its petal felt against his skin. He wonders if Oh-aew's mouth would feel as soft. Maybe it would even taste like coconut.
Then Oh-aew's leaning in. He'd asked Teh the other week, how do you know when someone wants to kiss you? and Teh had shrugged, hoping to convey an air of authority. You just know. Teh knows, but it terrifies him. His fingers flex against the carpet. He turns his head, but he doesn't have to look to imagine Oh-aew's hurt expression.
Teh doesn't know what he's doing. It's possible he hasn't understood a single thing he's done since Oh-aew reentered his life.
With a hand on each shoulder, Teh pushes Oh-aew to the floor. Oh-aew lands on his elbows and his eyes go wide and confused, almost like he thinks Teh is going to hit him.
Instead, Teh buries his face against the crotch of Oh-aew's shorts and sucks in a deep breath through his nose. Oh-aew smells like clean laundry, like Teh's detergent, somehow heady despite its familiarity. Teh turns his head and the hard outline of Oh-aew's cock pokes his cheek. He rubs his face against it, experimentally, the side of his mouth wetting the fabric, and Oh-aew squirms underneath him. Teh wants to know what Oh-aew smelled like before his shower cleaned away the day's exertion. Salty with sweat, pungent and distinct. There's a phantom taste on his tongue.
Teh reaches for the top of Oh-aew's shorts. He tugs the shorts down until he's freed the head of Oh-aew's cock, flushed red with arousal and shiny with precome at the tip.
Oh-aew's fingers join Teh's at the waistband and even just the brush of skin on skin sends a rush of heat through Teh's body. He looks up and Oh-aew is looking back, lips parted in an exhale. Neither of them speak, but after a moment, Oh-aew nods, nearly imperceptible.
The permission spurs Teh on. He takes the head of Oh-aew's cock into his mouth, flattening his tongue against the tip. The precome tastes bitter but the skin there is soft and hot and Teh wants to feel more of it. Oh-aew's yanking on his waistband, then he lifts his hips to pull the shorts down, pushing his cock deeper into Teh's mouth for a moment. Oh-aew's whole cock is exposed now, shorts shoved down to the tops of his thighs.
Teh sinks his mouth down, taking more of Oh-aew's length until his nose brushes the soft hair at the base of Oh-aew's cock. He breathes in through his nose, ignoring the reflexive spasm in the back of his throat. There's no finesse to his technique—he bobs his head, sucking, his mouth and chin wet with spit. Oh-aew flops back flat against the floor and Teh stretches a hand up to Oh-aew's stomach, feeling the flex of muscle under his palm.
The noises that Oh-aew makes are muffled, like he has an arm thrown over his face. Teh can't bring himself to look because if he looks, that makes it real, not just some fever dream that Te's caught up in. He keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the weight of Oh-aew's cock, the stretch of his lips around it.
Oh-aew's hips jerk and he makes another noise, loud enough to be heard through whatever he's covering his mouth with, and he's coming. Teh can feel Oh-aew's cock pulsing in his mouth. His come is bitter and hot and when it hits the back of his tongue, Teh nearly chokes, but he still tries to swallow it down.
As Teh pulls off, everything seems to hit him all at once, as though being jerked back violently into his own body. His knees are burning where they've rubbed against the carpet, his face is messy with spit and come, and his own cock is pressing hard against his zipper, aching. He doesn't know what he's doing, what he's done.
From the street below, a car honks. There's a breeze floating in through the open window, not enough to cool the heat prickling Teh's skin.
Oh-aew's eyes are closed, his chest heaving with his orgasm, but they flutter open when Teh shifts back onto the balls of his feet. Oh-aew hastily tugs his shorts up over his cock and then sits up, closing some of the distance between them.
"Teh," Oh-aew says. He looks down at Teh's crotch, Teh's erection, then back up. "Let me—"
"No," Teh says. His voice comes out hoarse. His eyes blink, unfocused, and it's a struggle to get to his feet. "No. I'm going to go sleep downstairs."
He's out of the door before Oh-aew has a chance to say anything else.
tags: blow jobs, not canon compliant, extended scene, no archive warnings apply
---
Teh doesn't know what he's doing. He'd only intended to scratch Oh-aew's back, but now he's leaning in, smelling his own soap, his shampoo on Oh-aew, and the desire kindling in his body bursts into flames. He's engulfed with it. In an instant, he can't touch Oh-aew enough.
His hands slide around to Oh-aew's belly, and Oh-aew lets himself be tugged back, but it's still not close enough. Teh's feet slip uselessly on the carpet as he tries to pull Oh-aew flush against him. Oh-aew throws his head back onto Teh's shoulder, his mouth dragging wetly across Teh's face, his hair. The fabric of Oh-aew's t-shirt (of his t-shirt, the one he'd given to Oh-aew before the shower, too big on Oh-aew's frame) bunches under Teh's hands. If he turned his head any more, he'd be kissing Oh-aew's neck.
欲火 , Teh's manic mind produces. 欲, desire, and 火, fire. He is burning up from the inside.
He's groping Oh-aew's chest, fingers spread wide to touch as much of Oh-aew as he can, when Oh-aew whimpers, and the sound cuts loud through the quiet room.
The two of them still. Teh releases his grip on Oh-aew's shirt. He sits back on his hands, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. He's hard in his shorts, which is weird, because he's never thought that touching another boy could turn him on.
Oh-aew turns, twisting to look at Teh. His face is red, twin spots of color in his cheeks and for some reason, he remembers the hibiscus, how soft its petal felt against his skin. He wonders if Oh-aew's mouth would feel as soft. Maybe it would even taste like coconut.
Then Oh-aew's leaning in. He'd asked Teh the other week, how do you know when someone wants to kiss you? and Teh had shrugged, hoping to convey an air of authority. You just know. Teh knows, but it terrifies him. His fingers flex against the carpet. He turns his head, but he doesn't have to look to imagine Oh-aew's hurt expression.
Teh doesn't know what he's doing. It's possible he hasn't understood a single thing he's done since Oh-aew reentered his life.
With a hand on each shoulder, Teh pushes Oh-aew to the floor. Oh-aew lands on his elbows and his eyes go wide and confused, almost like he thinks Teh is going to hit him.
Instead, Teh buries his face against the crotch of Oh-aew's shorts and sucks in a deep breath through his nose. Oh-aew smells like clean laundry, like Teh's detergent, somehow heady despite its familiarity. Teh turns his head and the hard outline of Oh-aew's cock pokes his cheek. He rubs his face against it, experimentally, the side of his mouth wetting the fabric, and Oh-aew squirms underneath him. Teh wants to know what Oh-aew smelled like before his shower cleaned away the day's exertion. Salty with sweat, pungent and distinct. There's a phantom taste on his tongue.
Teh reaches for the top of Oh-aew's shorts. He tugs the shorts down until he's freed the head of Oh-aew's cock, flushed red with arousal and shiny with precome at the tip.
Oh-aew's fingers join Teh's at the waistband and even just the brush of skin on skin sends a rush of heat through Teh's body. He looks up and Oh-aew is looking back, lips parted in an exhale. Neither of them speak, but after a moment, Oh-aew nods, nearly imperceptible.
The permission spurs Teh on. He takes the head of Oh-aew's cock into his mouth, flattening his tongue against the tip. The precome tastes bitter but the skin there is soft and hot and Teh wants to feel more of it. Oh-aew's yanking on his waistband, then he lifts his hips to pull the shorts down, pushing his cock deeper into Teh's mouth for a moment. Oh-aew's whole cock is exposed now, shorts shoved down to the tops of his thighs.
Teh sinks his mouth down, taking more of Oh-aew's length until his nose brushes the soft hair at the base of Oh-aew's cock. He breathes in through his nose, ignoring the reflexive spasm in the back of his throat. There's no finesse to his technique—he bobs his head, sucking, his mouth and chin wet with spit. Oh-aew flops back flat against the floor and Teh stretches a hand up to Oh-aew's stomach, feeling the flex of muscle under his palm.
The noises that Oh-aew makes are muffled, like he has an arm thrown over his face. Teh can't bring himself to look because if he looks, that makes it real, not just some fever dream that Te's caught up in. He keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the weight of Oh-aew's cock, the stretch of his lips around it.
Oh-aew's hips jerk and he makes another noise, loud enough to be heard through whatever he's covering his mouth with, and he's coming. Teh can feel Oh-aew's cock pulsing in his mouth. His come is bitter and hot and when it hits the back of his tongue, Teh nearly chokes, but he still tries to swallow it down.
As Teh pulls off, everything seems to hit him all at once, as though being jerked back violently into his own body. His knees are burning where they've rubbed against the carpet, his face is messy with spit and come, and his own cock is pressing hard against his zipper, aching. He doesn't know what he's doing, what he's done.
From the street below, a car honks. There's a breeze floating in through the open window, not enough to cool the heat prickling Teh's skin.
Oh-aew's eyes are closed, his chest heaving with his orgasm, but they flutter open when Teh shifts back onto the balls of his feet. Oh-aew hastily tugs his shorts up over his cock and then sits up, closing some of the distance between them.
"Teh," Oh-aew says. He looks down at Teh's crotch, Teh's erection, then back up. "Let me—"
"No," Teh says. His voice comes out hoarse. His eyes blink, unfocused, and it's a struggle to get to his feet. "No. I'm going to go sleep downstairs."
He's out of the door before Oh-aew has a chance to say anything else.