extendedmetaphor | (no subject)

"You won't let me tease you, you won't let me seduce you... what will you let me do?" Guy continued, in rather the same tone of voice.

"Seduce me?" He stared for a moment, cigarette forgotten between two fingers. "When did that turn up?"

Guy shrugged, amused. "Thought I'd slide that in there subtly," he said, his hand making a little snake-like sliding movement. "Because I did intend to."

"Is that your idea of subtle?" asked Irwin, painfully aware of the fact that his cheeks were flushing and that he was finding his cigarette increasingly interesting. "You and Dakin must be practically bloody soulmates."

Guy snickered. "Subtlety was never in my character," he shrugged. "Must you bring up horrible boys? That's the third time you've mentioned him, and you still call him by his last name." He found this all too amusing.

"Force of habit," he said, with a shrug, trying to pretend that he didn't mention Dakin all the time, let alone think about him.

"So..." he said, affecting nonchalance. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

He wondered if there were any fucking gerunds involved?

"Well," Guy pondered. "I could invite you over for a glass of wine. I have a Grand Reserve lying about. But since I don't drink, that would be too much like trying to get you drunk, and I don't think that's necessary. So how about we just go back to my place. It's not far."

He was tempted, incredibly so. It had been a long time - the whole mess with Dakin had only reminded him of how long. And this might be good. It might distance him from all of that.

"It wouldn't be...terribly uncomfortable afterwards? One does worry about professionalism."

Guy could only smile at that. "One looks very handsome when one worries, but one oughtn't," he assured the other, standing up. "You're teaching right along side a class in Embroidery, so professionalism is the least of our worries."

He neared the other, cupped his face and kissed him. Seemed appropriate, considering.

Well, that was the end of the argument, wasn't it? Abstractly, he tried to remember the last time that anyone had kissed him but then he stopped thinking altogether.

He actually leaned forward in the chair, pressing forward into the kiss, embarrassingly eager.

If at all they made it to his hut, Guy thought fleetingly as the other kissed him back eagerly.

It should be confessed that Guy deepened the kiss quite eagerly himself, a hand passing through the other's hair. It had been far, far too long.

It was so easy to get lost in, so easy to give yourself over entirely to sensation and not really think about it. Any of it.

It was sort of glorious in that regard.

Professionalism, no, but comfort perhaps was worth worrying about. Guy, however, was not worrying about anything at all. There was only hair under his fingers, then a neck and a shirt collar, then a shirt button that he undid. Not because of a master-plan. It was a button and buttons needed undoing.

It was only a button but it felt more than that - it felt like something with weight. He pulled back from the kiss, his breath shivering against Guy's lips.

"Not here," he said. A part of him thought that it ought to be a question. But it wasn't, in the end. Some evidence of a backbone, at least.

Guy smiled. "Not here," he agreed and with the same hand that had undone him, buttoned the button again.

He pulled him out of his chair then. "It's not far." And with another kiss, guided him outside. Work would have to wait.

He walked with Guy in a sort of haze, sure that what they were about to so (what he hoped they were about to do) was ringing out of him like a bell.

But God, he wanted it.

As promised, it wasn't too far to the hut he and Anthony shared. He turned around sharply before entering the hut, paused for a moment, then kissed the other again, whilst opening the door with his free hand.

He stumbled, a little, on unfamiliar ground as he kissed Guy back eagerly, fingers curling around the back of his neck to hold on.

If Anthony was there, Guy neither noticed nor cared. He was otherwise engaged. Rather urgently.

Guy refused to let go and so they stumbled to his bedroom where once more Guy unbuttoned that same button. "Better?" he breathed against Tom's mouth.

"Much." There wasn't much room for words with the crush of their mouths, his fingers pressed into Guy's hair. He found himself not caring how many buttons Guy undid.

It should be put down to great restraint on Guy's behalf that he undid the buttons at all. He had half a mind to just rip the other's clothes off. Instead, he unbuttoned the rest and slipped the shirt off his shoulders.

His own hands were busy with fumbling with Guy's clothes but he stopped long enough to let Guy half strip him. He was intensely aware of his own bare skin versus Guy's clothing, the imbalance and a shiver went through him, straight to his cock.

The shiver was noted and Guy did not pause, instead undid Tom's fly and as the trousers dropped to the floor, cupped his arse. Being the one clothed at the moment, sent similar shivers to his cock.

Nothing but thin cotton between his skin and Guy's hands and he couldn't help the way his hips rocked forward. How he all but squirmed.

"God, it's been a long time," he said, almost laughing.

A snort, a kiss. "Yeah," almost inaudibly between a kiss and a nip. Hands toying with the band of the underpants, letting it snap once before disappearing underneath, touching bare skin. "I want you stark bollock naked," he confesses, before pushing the last piece of fabric down.