"I know," Sawyer agrees with another shy smile. He kisses back and there's a shock of pleasure at the quick graze of teeth on his lip. But then those hands are under his shirt making him shiver.
He gasps when the other grabs him, feeling a more molten heat and his body responds eagerly to his mate's touch. His lips part and he presses in to kiss him again, hands slowly trailing down the other's chest, still nervous but he's doing it.
Sawyer blushes more and he looks to the side, squirming once more and it had definitely felt more than nice.
Sawyer hesitates at the go ahead to bite Bishop and he shakes his head a little, eyes wide. He can't imagine biting anyone much less an alpha. He might have years ago and he definitely hadn't had a good experience.
They'll have to work up to him biting Bishop. "I like tasting you," he says softly and then with a surge of playfulness he leans to flick his tongue at the other's lips and then tilts his head to drag his soft tongue along the other's jawline. He tastes good.
He liked feeling the moments where Sawyer relaxed. Where he wasn’t timid. Where he could see hints of what he could be in time.
He tips his head to give his mate more room. His tongue felt like hot velvet against him and he can’t help it when he nudges him back just enough to tug his own shirt over his head. If he wants to taste - he can taste.
But first Bishop steal another kiss. More heated than the others because Sawyer started it. A warm sound echoes in his chest and he slowly bunches up the others shirt in a silent question. Could he take it off, too?
Sawyer lets himself taste, lets himself take advantage of the way that Bishop allows it. The way he seems to like it. He nearly moans. He's quick to let the other maneuver him back without any resistance. His eyes dropping to look at the expanse of skin revealed when Bishop's shirt came off.
Oh.
He hadn't really, really looked when the other had gotten in the bath with him. But now? He swallows heavily, hands reaching out to touch gently at the other's chest as the other kisses him. He does moan into, quietly. He parts his lips to let it deepen further.
When his shirt is bunched up in the other hands he feels a moment of hesitation but he feels hot, aching. Bishop hasn't hurt him. He's not going to. He keeps reminding himself of that as best he can and so he nods, pulling back to meet the other's gaze.
Bishop waits for that confirmation before he sits up enough to finish drawing the shirt up and over Sawyers head. The bruises are just a pet of him right now, so he doesn’t pay them any real extra attention. The only tell is when the pressure of his hands lifts when he’s near them.
He looks over his face, noses bumping faintly, “keep going.”
Sawyer is glad that the other doesn't say anything about the bruises again. It had scared him when he had demanded the names and Sawyer is grateful not to have that conversation again. Instead, the only acknowledgment is the way Bishop's touch adjusts with such care. It's impossible not to notice. It couldn't all be an act, it's too sincere.
Sawyer's eyes close as their noses bump each other, relaxing at the simple intimacy of the movement.
He nods, soft hands moving over the other's chest some more, feeling the other's muscled pectorals and brushing over his nipples before lower. His fingers curl in as they drag over his abs, a quiet sound escaping him. How could he get so much pleasure out of simply touching someone else?
In his case, Bishop doesn’t close his eyes. He doesn’t pull away. He watches his expression shift every few seconds and enjoys the feel of those smaller hand moving over his skin. He takes note of their journey and the way he curls his fingers to touch him with his knuckles instead.
It’s the sound he makes that has the most effect on him. He breathes deep in his chest and lightly licks Sawyers bottom lip.
Sawyer makes another noise at the feeling of the other's tongue. He parts his lips, one hand staying on the other's stomach and the other presses lower, tracing the edge of the other's pants.
He hesitates before pressing lower, feeling over his groin to see if the other's is getting as aroused as he is.
Allowing Sawyer the space and time to get comfortable, was the smart choice. It was a testament to his own self control, however, when curious fingers moves to the front of his pants.
It would have been ridiculous to try and hide how turned on this cute little thing made him; and the evidence was right there pressed hot and hard against the others hand. He swallowed a groan and just pants softly against Sawyers parted lips. His hands somehow stayed still, curled against the others hips where it was safe.
Sawyer feels the outline of him through his pants. His cheeks heat all the more and it's more now from arousal than anything else. He presses an open mouthed kiss to Bishop's lips and a part of him is starting to get more antsy. That his mate really won't be able to control himself. He knows the more he gets the aroused the stronger his scent and the more aroused Bishop is... the stronger it is for him to and stronger the urge to submit to him.
He licks at the other's lips before lowering his head and licking at his neck and then shoulders.
"How can I... what next?" He can't help but ask. He knows how to have sex. He knows certain sexual acts but he doesn't know how to be a partner in them, what to do with the fact that he's burning up with desire too. That he's not just hoping this will be over quickly.
This isn’t a situation he’s like vet had to navigate and to be honest he isn’t sure what the right path in this is to take. Because it’s true: the more aroused they get, the harder it is make rational decisions. He doesn’t want to slip.
Both hands reach up and he cups Sawyers face so he can kiss him properly, “you can touch; but I don’t think anything more is smart…not right now.”
Those base instincts make him want to argue. More would be good. Everything
would be best. Sawyer closes his eyes as he’s immersed in kissing bishop,
but opens them to listen. He squeezes his hand over the others length.
“Touch here?” He murmurs. “Like this?” He adds, rubbing him through the
cloth.
Sawyer wouldn’t have been forward enough to stick his hand in the others
pants but as he does and he feels the others hard flesh he has to bite down
on his own lip to stop from moaning. He moves his hand to touch him, to
feel the length of him and hesitantly stroke him.
He feels flush all over, his nipples drawn taut, breathing coming out
shorter. Instinctively he rocks his hips, trying to get some friction for
himself, although, it does nothing for the urge he feels to join with his
mate. But it helps some of the aching arousal to stay at bay.
Sawyer’s hand stills as he mulls over the question. After a moment he gives
a tentative nod, hand starting to work over the others cock again. He needs
Bishop’s touch.
Bishop studies that reaction and wonders if they ever touches him or if they just used him the entire time. He pushes forward and catches his mouth in a deeper kiss; a hungry sort of thing that is controlled enough to say I want you but I won’t lose control.
He drawls his hands down, brushing his thumbs across the others nipples a few times, gently plucking both before he continues down. One hand urges his hips closer and the other slips into the back of the others pants. He remembered the bruises here, too and he rumbles knowing that he won’t ever be covered in those again.
They never touched him with the intent to make him feel good, that is for certain. He appreciates the way that Bishop is able to communicate even through unspoken means in a way that Sawyer can understand. Maybe it's the fact that they're mates. Maybe Bishop is just good to him. Maybe it's a bit of both. But Sawyer kisses eagerly, hungry for it for Bishop.
Sawyer doesn't stop touching Bishop as the other begins to explore him. He trembles when he touches more sensitive spots, like the attention to his nipples. It draws soft mewls from him and then a more sharp cry at the plucking. It's gentle but the pleasure from it is intense in nature.
Soft lips part, exhaling as the other's hand presses into his pants. He feels a thrill of mixed anticipation and fear but somehow the sound the other makes is one that comforts him and makes him feel less afraid.
The rumbling sound turns a little more pleased when Sawyer doesn’t tense up or respond like a fleeing puppy. He’s trying. And from the scent of him he doesn’t seem to want to leave anyway.
Eventually, this will be an all day sort of thing, he can tell. Because even now, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to get enough of him.
His hips can’t a little away from the couch and further into Sawyers hand as he slouches a little more against the cushions. Okay hair breaths mingle and eventually even to the same pace. Bishop wants to nose and bite all over this boy. Leave his scent in every inch of his healing skin.
But he doesn’t. He idly kisses him and spreads his fingers beneath the fabric of the others pants and slips one against his entrance, testing for a reaction — waiting to see if Sawyer will actually respond badly to it.
Sawyer struggles to keep a steady pace on the other's length as Bishop's hands keep working on him, as his lips keep him captured and hands keep him trembling. All that exists in that moment is Bishop's touch, his scent, his taste. Nothing else matters for the moment.
Sawyer isn't used to feeling this aroused, isn't used to how slick it feels when Bishop's finger touches his entrance. His body tensing slightly, muscle contracting but then relaxing. Need radiates off of him, aching desire.
"You won't hurt me," Sawyer says quietly, half as a reminder to himself.
“No, I won’t,” Bishop husks quietly and his eyes about roll back into his head at the warm wetness he feels literally at his fingertips.
Sawyer smells like heaven, and if that hint of wet heat is an indication of what he would be in for when this boy finally trusted him enough—-
He breathes out a curse and rocks his hips into the others hand at the same moment he carefully slips his finger inside of his heat, up to his second knuckle because his control is only so controlled. He’s greedy and wants to feel and appreciate what’s his.
Sawyer nods and he's breathing heavily. He strokes the other a bit faster, squeezing when that finger slips inside of him.
"Ah," Sawyer gasps, burying his face down against the other's shoulder as his hips jerk.
He struggles to focus enough to keep stroking the other. Just that finger to the second knuckle undoes him a little. It's never felt good. And this... felt so good.
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He gasps when the other grabs him, feeling a more molten heat and his body responds eagerly to his mate's touch. His lips part and he presses in to kiss him again, hands slowly trailing down the other's chest, still nervous but he's doing it.
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At least that’s the impression he’s getting.
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His hands drum lightly against the others backside, “you can bite me, too.”
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Sawyer hesitates at the go ahead to bite Bishop and he shakes his head a little, eyes wide. He can't imagine biting anyone much less an alpha. He might have years ago and he definitely hadn't had a good experience.
They'll have to work up to him biting Bishop. "I like tasting you," he says softly and then with a surge of playfulness he leans to flick his tongue at the other's lips and then tilts his head to drag his soft tongue along the other's jawline. He tastes good.
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He liked feeling the moments where Sawyer relaxed. Where he wasn’t timid. Where he could see hints of what he could be in time.
He tips his head to give his mate more room. His tongue felt like hot velvet against him and he can’t help it when he nudges him back just enough to tug his own shirt over his head. If he wants to taste - he can taste.
But first Bishop steal another kiss. More heated than the others because Sawyer started it. A warm sound echoes in his chest and he slowly bunches up the others shirt in a silent question. Could he take it off, too?
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Oh.
He hadn't really, really looked when the other had gotten in the bath with him. But now? He swallows heavily, hands reaching out to touch gently at the other's chest as the other kisses him. He does moan into, quietly. He parts his lips to let it deepen further.
When his shirt is bunched up in the other hands he feels a moment of hesitation but he feels hot, aching. Bishop hasn't hurt him. He's not going to. He keeps reminding himself of that as best he can and so he nods, pulling back to meet the other's gaze.
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He looks over his face, noses bumping faintly, “keep going.”
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Sawyer's eyes close as their noses bump each other, relaxing at the simple intimacy of the movement.
He nods, soft hands moving over the other's chest some more, feeling the other's muscled pectorals and brushing over his nipples before lower. His fingers curl in as they drag over his abs, a quiet sound escaping him. How could he get so much pleasure out of simply touching someone else?
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It’s the sound he makes that has the most effect on him. He breathes deep in his chest and lightly licks Sawyers bottom lip.
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He hesitates before pressing lower, feeling over his groin to see if the other's is getting as aroused as he is.
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It would have been ridiculous to try and hide how turned on this cute little thing made him; and the evidence was right there pressed hot and hard against the others hand. He swallowed a groan and just pants softly against Sawyers parted lips. His hands somehow stayed still, curled against the others hips where it was safe.
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He licks at the other's lips before lowering his head and licking at his neck and then shoulders.
"How can I... what next?" He can't help but ask. He knows how to have sex. He knows certain sexual acts but he doesn't know how to be a partner in them, what to do with the fact that he's burning up with desire too. That he's not just hoping this will be over quickly.
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Both hands reach up and he cups Sawyers face so he can kiss him properly, “you can touch; but I don’t think anything more is smart…not right now.”
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Those base instincts make him want to argue. More would be good. Everything would be best. Sawyer closes his eyes as he’s immersed in kissing bishop, but opens them to listen. He squeezes his hand over the others length.
“Touch here?” He murmurs. “Like this?” He adds, rubbing him through the cloth.
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“There,” he nips him softly.
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Sawyer wouldn’t have been forward enough to stick his hand in the others pants but as he does and he feels the others hard flesh he has to bite down on his own lip to stop from moaning. He moves his hand to touch him, to feel the length of him and hesitantly stroke him.
He feels flush all over, his nipples drawn taut, breathing coming out shorter. Instinctively he rocks his hips, trying to get some friction for himself, although, it does nothing for the urge he feels to join with his mate. But it helps some of the aching arousal to stay at bay.
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He may have to sleep on the couch after this but it would be worth it.
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Sawyer’s hand stills as he mulls over the question. After a moment he gives a tentative nod, hand starting to work over the others cock again. He needs Bishop’s touch.
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He drawls his hands down, brushing his thumbs across the others nipples a few times, gently plucking both before he continues down. One hand urges his hips closer and the other slips into the back of the others pants. He remembered the bruises here, too and he rumbles knowing that he won’t ever be covered in those again.
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Sawyer doesn't stop touching Bishop as the other begins to explore him. He trembles when he touches more sensitive spots, like the attention to his nipples. It draws soft mewls from him and then a more sharp cry at the plucking. It's gentle but the pleasure from it is intense in nature.
Soft lips part, exhaling as the other's hand presses into his pants. He feels a thrill of mixed anticipation and fear but somehow the sound the other makes is one that comforts him and makes him feel less afraid.
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Eventually, this will be an all day sort of thing, he can tell. Because even now, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to get enough of him.
His hips can’t a little away from the couch and further into Sawyers hand as he slouches a little more against the cushions. Okay hair breaths mingle and eventually even to the same pace. Bishop wants to nose and bite all over this boy. Leave his scent in every inch of his healing skin.
But he doesn’t. He idly kisses him and spreads his fingers beneath the fabric of the others pants and slips one against his entrance, testing for a reaction — waiting to see if Sawyer will actually respond badly to it.
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Sawyer isn't used to feeling this aroused, isn't used to how slick it feels when Bishop's finger touches his entrance. His body tensing slightly, muscle contracting but then relaxing. Need radiates off of him, aching desire.
"You won't hurt me," Sawyer says quietly, half as a reminder to himself.
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Sawyer smells like heaven, and if that hint of wet heat is an indication of what he would be in for when this boy finally trusted him enough—-
He breathes out a curse and rocks his hips into the others hand at the same moment he carefully slips his finger inside of his heat, up to his second knuckle because his control is only so controlled. He’s greedy and wants to feel and appreciate what’s his.
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"Ah," Sawyer gasps, burying his face down against the other's shoulder as his hips jerk.
He struggles to focus enough to keep stroking the other. Just that finger to the second knuckle undoes him a little. It's never felt good. And this... felt so good.
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