(no subject)

[extendedmetaphor]

Or, perhaps, somewhere, they did go for that drink.

There was a lot that Irwin was still trying to adjust to. The weather, for a start. The lack of palpable history is disconcerting. He's refusing to address the dinosaurs.
And then there's Dakin. Of course, there's Dakin. Inevitably. Irwin might have been the only one who was actually surprised.

They skirted around it for a few weeks but, in the end, it just felt inevitable. That he'd find himself waiting for Dakin with a drink in front of him.
It was just a drink. And everything would be fine.

Comments

[thesubjunctive]

"I'd like to see you try," Dakin said, still confident even then. What Irwin was suggesting may not have been exactly what he wanted at the moment, but as long as he got off in the end what did it matter? In any case, he highly doubted he would get to the state that Irwin described.

"But I'd much rather see you doing something else right now."

[extendedmetaphor]

He was confident that he could. Dakin's swagger was persuasive, but Irwin knew that the majority of his experience, all of it really, had to lie with girls and that shifted the power, somewhat.

"Have you imagined it?" he asked, rolling his wrist, touching Dakin slowly and thoroughly, determined to make him sound even the slightest bit breathless. "Me sucking you off? My mouth on your cock?"

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin made a low noise of pleasure in the back of his throat as Irwin continued. It was nice, but far slower than most anything he was used to. Normally he was quite a fan of getting to the main event as quickly as possible.

"So many times, though usually there's less talking beforehand."

[extendedmetaphor]

Irwin remembered being Dakin's age, how everything had to be achieved at break-neck speed. Though, doubtlessly ,he was never as good at it as Dakin.

"Talking's the best part," he said and then he did bend his head and press his tongue flat against Dakin's cock, licking from balls to tip before he started stroking again. "I like listening to you talk about this."

[thesubjunctive]

Just the sight of Irwin like that, head bent and licking was enough to send a shudder straight through him. It wasn't anything like any of the times he had done this with women, a fact that he was willing to blame on anticipation. He'd been fantasizing about it for so long now that it was only natural the payoff would be more exciting.

"So what do you want to hear, then? All the dirty little thoughts I had in the middle of lessons?"

[extendedmetaphor]

Irwin lifted his head, his fingers sliding over spit slick skin.

"It'd be a start," he said.

[thesubjunctive]

"I thought about you doing it in right there in the classroom." Dakin resisted the urge to rock his hips forward into Irwin's fingers, but only just, desire for more showing clear. "No one else in, just you at your desk until I walk in. No talking. You just drop down and suck me off in the middle of the floor."

[extendedmetaphor]

"That's good," said Irwin, nodding, lowering his head again to brush his lips against Dakin's cock, light kisses against hot skin. Calculated teasing. "Not necessarily original, but good."

[thesubjunctive]

"Original?" Dakin frowned, taking a moment to try to compose himself before answering. It was getting difficult to concentrate on something like talking with Irwin doing that. He was so close. So close, but still holding himself back. "It's a wank, not poetry. How original do you... do you need?"

[extendedmetaphor]

He hadn't even got his mouth down over Dakin yet and he could already tell that he was doing something right.

"Nothing," he said, licking at Dakin's cock again and, God, fighting to keep from letting Dakin know how good it was. "I suppose I just forgot how young you are."

[thesubjunctive]

"What's that got to do with it?" Irwin had to know how he looked, how those little teasings of the main event were getting to him. Dakin bet he was enjoying it too.

"Fuck." He had a hand on the back of Irwin's neck again, wishing he could just press him into action, but making no move to do so. "Would you just get on with it already?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"Just not a lot to call on but the obvious."

Dakin's increasing frustration was obvious but his cock was rock hard in Irwin's hand. God, he intended to enjoy this as much as possible. But there'd be time for that, afterwards. He lifted his head, smiling at Dakin before he slid his mouth down over the first inch of his cock.

[thesubjunctive]

"Yes," Dakin breathed, sounding equal parts relieved and triumphant. Just the sight of Irwin like that with his cock finally in his mouth was amazing, and it had barely just begun. It was only going to get better.

[extendedmetaphor]

No more teasing, not right then. Not now. He took Dakin's cock as deep and as smooth as he could manage it. His hands were on Dakin's hips, thumbs smoothing against warm skin, not holding him down, though.

[thesubjunctive]

In that moment Dakin was more pleased with himself than he had been in a very long while. He managed to behave himself, not pushing for more despite wanting to so badly. He did his best to encourage with words though, having noticed that Irwin seemed to like that a lot.

[extendedmetaphor]

Dakin's mouth was deeply amusing to him - the things that came out of it. A mark of youth, the rambling, the filth, and inexplicably, somehow wonderful.

Irwin's hand stroked along Dakin's thigh, his mouth having found a rhythm now, strong and fast. He had no real intention of lingering.

[thesubjunctive]

"Christ, you're good at this." The fingers of one hand tightened their grip on the short hairs at the back of Irwin's head while Dakin's other hand clenched fiercely at the blanket. "I bet you've wanted to do this for ages, haven't you?" he said, hips shifting forwards. He watched it all with an intent expression, the movement of Irwin's head, the way his lips stretched over his cock... It was better than anything he had imagined. "You were thinking about it in class even. I was."

[extendedmetaphor]

What he couldn't tell Dakin thanks to his mouth being occupied was that he was good at this because of practise, pure and simple - it wasn't some God given gift.

He did moan, though. Because Dakin wasn't wrong.

[thesubjunctive]

That seemed to have struck the right nerve and Dakin continued, even as it was rapidly becoming more and more difficult to speak with any level of composure. "I knew it. Sitting there, wishing you'd shut up and do something else with your mouth and you were thinking the same thing," he said inbetween gasps and groans because the other man really was very good.

[extendedmetaphor]

Not exactly the same thing. Not always. There had been a hundred lurid fantasies, and he'd always felt guilty when Posner had accidentally caught his eye.

He did moan again, though, the sound muffled by the press of Dakin's cock against his tongue.

[thesubjunctive]

"Fuck," he groaned, pressing his eyes tightly closed for a moment. It wasn't going to be much longer, not at this rate. Irwin must have known it by then. "So fucking close."

[extendedmetaphor]

Irwin knew it, wanted it, craved it by this point. He'd given up wondering if it made him wicked. Fuck wicked. Dakin was beautiful and, for now, that was all he cared about.

His fingers dug into Dakin's thigh - as much urging as he could manage, right then.

[thesubjunctive]

The fact that Irwin didn't stop or pull back, but instead kept going, urging him on, was almost enough to send him over the edge right then and there. Instead he held out just a few moments longer before coming with a muffled string of swearing.

[extendedmetaphor]

He knew that there were schools of thoughts on this - whether to see it through or tactically retreat, as it were - but he had never had any problem with standing his ground. Dakin came in his mouth and he swallowed, smooth and practiced, every drop, and he kept sucking until Dakin started to soften in his mouth.

[thesubjunctive]

It was a while before Dakin spoke again, laughing shakily and combing a hand back through his hair. "I always knew this was a good idea."

So that was it. He'd finally made it to Berlin.