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dakin

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Some things never changed - he was still a teacher, still buried in history, and he still felt like he was drowning in marking. He sighs, reaching for the drink that's at his elbow as he finishes one essay and starts another. It looks like he's on the verge of a long night if he wants to get all of this done.

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"Because not everything has to be headlong," murmured Irwin, still brushing his lips against Dakin's skin, which was a little rough with stubble. "Because I enjoy taking my time with you."

Dakin groaned impatiently, reaching down to rub at his cock through his jeans. It was going to take forever at this rate. They were perched on top a chair for god's sake. Surely that lent a bit more urgency to the situation. "What if I don't want to take my time?"

"You never want to take your time," pointed out Irwin, looking amused. "And you've never been that good at taking instruction. Still, never hurts to try something new, Dakin."

All the time he was speaking, his eyes were fixed on the movement of Dakin's hand.

Dakin noticed Irwin watching and put a bit more effort into it for his sake. He had no qualms whatsoever about putting on a bit of a show. "What do you know?" He kept looking directly at Irwin, breath catching slightly for the briefest moment. "Maybe I'm just waiting for some instructions I like?"

That catch in Dakin's breathing made his cock throb and Irwin shifted his weight under the boy's weight in his lap.

"And what kind of instructions do you think you'd like?"

He hummed pensively, apparently giving the question some serious thought. He gave a slight, deliberate shift in response to Irwin's movement. "I'll know when I hear them."

"Well, I think you should show some more skin for a start," said Irwin, leaning up to nuzzle under Dakin's jaw. "I want to see your cock."

Dakin paused long enough to shoot Irwin a deliberately brilliant smile. Then he working his jeans down just enough to show the desired amount of skin, but hopefully not enough to end up somehow dislodging him from his perch. When he managed to do it while still remaining sitting he looked triumphant.

It was an undeniably attractive sight. Irwin's eyes slid slowly down Dakin's body from his face. His fingers grazed against Dakin's bare hip.

"Go on then," he prompted.

Dakin kept eye contact as he began touching himself, still smiling. It was very definitely a show. His breath hitched, his eyes slipping closed for a moment. "Better?"

"Much," said Irwin, not sure which was more enticing - Dakin's smile or the slide of his fingers. "You look fantastic like that."

A comment like that was only guaranteed to make Dakin's ego all the worse. His smile took a distinctly smug turn and he ground down a little against Irwin as he continued smoothly moving his hand on his cock. The fingers of his other hand were tightly pressed into Irwin's arm for balance. "How fantastic? Tell me."

It had been a calculated risk - he'd expected Dakin to preen at it, but he was definitely beautiful when he did.

"You know exactly what you look like," he said, grazing his fingers against Dakin's arm as he watched him stroke his cock. "Don't tell me you've never done this in front of a mirror."

Dakin didn't answer directly, letting his smile speak for him. Things were good, but they could be better. He let his head tilt back, not bothering to hide any noise of pleasure that he might make.

"I bet you've thought about it, haven't you? Back in Sheffield. In school. In the middle of class." If he could only get Irwin to own up to that last bit Dakin knew he'd be happy. It would only be fair really, since he had been sitting there constantly thinking about Irwin.

"You know I have." They'd come far enough, enough water on the bridge, that it didn't seem to matter if he admitted it. His fingers grazed over Dakin's. "That's what you want to hear, isn't it? That I never stopped thinking about you making yourself come just like this."

Dakin nodded, whining slightly in the back of his throat as Irwin's fingers brushed over his own. "I want to know everything you thought of. Every. Single. Thing," he moaned, timing his words to the movement of his hand.

"Pushy," he says, teasing, grinning as he shifts his hips under Dakin's weight, pushing up against him. "I pictured you naked more than once. Couldn't help myself."

"Is that it, then?" Dakin looked at Irwin, breaking out of the act a bit for a moment. He didn't stop touching himself though, even if he did slow down. "Naked? Just naked?"

"You know it's not," he says, eyes drifting down Dakin's body again, to the curl of his fingers. "Pictured you doing just this, too. Thought about you...sucking my cock. I liked that one."

"I bet you did." Dakin was smiling again, but there was a distinct look in his eyes, a look that said he might at any moment go back to being bored and disappointed with Irwin's choices. "And what else?"

Irwin both hated and was irritated by that look; it was so symptomatic of Dakin as a whole. He tilted his head.

"What do you want me to say? All the times I thought about fucking you? About how I thought I'd do it?"

Dakin shrugged. "I want to hear something interesting." After all, he must have deserved it by that point. And he was the one trying to get off right now. The least Irwin could do was help him along.

"I had this one really elaborate fantasy about you turning up while I was marking essays and letting me fuck you over my desk with the door open. Anyone could have walked in." His fingers ghosted over Dakin's again. "Or you fucking me. It changed. Different things changed."

"Oh fuck." Dakin's hand sped up again, his fingers digging into Irwin's arm for added support. He was close now, so bloody close. "Just how elaborate was this fantasy?" Because he was beginning to give it some serious thought.

"Elaborate," said Irwin, his own breathing speeding to match Dakin's. "What you were wearing...How I'd use my fingers to open you up. The position I'd have you in. The sounds you'd make."