bilocations | Open Post

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.

Amused, he drops his hand and adjusts the others grip so that he can put his hand in his pants.

“There,” he nips him softly.

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.

“Do you want me to touch you?” It sound more like ‘can I touch you?’ Though.

He may have to sleep on the couch after this but it would be worth it.

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.

Bishop doesn’t really mind that Sawyers lost focus. His own is completely on his mate, anyway. Making him feel good is all that matters in this moment. He licks his lips and breathes another pleased moan and reaches down with his free hand to gently move Sawyers hand from his cock to place it around his neck instead.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers against Sawyers cheek and rocks his finger deeper, swirling it around to feel all of that sensitive wetness.

Sawyer looks confused when his hand is drawn away from the hard cock. He doesn’t move it once the other puts it up around his neck instead.

It’s beyond him the idea that Bishop would set aside his own pleasure to focus on Sawyer. He tightens his arm around his neck and leans fully on his mate. There’s no room to argue, not with the finger pressing deeper into the slick and quivering passage, tightening around it as if it can suck it further in somehow.

Sawyer doesn’t know what to do but hold on, his hips rock against the others finger, soft whimpers escaping him.

It’s not even that much and the pleasure is already such sweet torture.

The way Sawyer rocks against him draws a low moan from his lips and he nosed in against the others shoulder. Breathing him in; soap, sweat, arousal — it’s almost dizzying a o take in at once. No one has ever smelled that good to him.

He somehow manages to draw him closer so he can add a second finger to offer the other a bit more to work with.

“Are you always this wet?” Teeth idly scrape over the others skin; a brief contact before he covered it with a kiss.

Instinctively, Sawyer moves on those fingers and his body is craving more than that. It’s wanting his mate, his knot. Still, even just these fingers it’s more pleasure than he’s ever had. He moans as the other’s teeth drag over his skin. It doesn’t hurt, it just tingles, it stirs the heat inside of him even more.

“N… no. Never like this,” Sawyer pants out, trying to hold back another whimpered moan as he rides back on the other’s fingers.

“That’s just proof you’re mine,” he murmurs and thrusts his fingers, stretching and curling inside of him, looking for all of the sweet spots.

Bishop swallows a growl; it isn’t anger its more from pleasure than anything. Maybe a tiny warning, “don’t hold back with me. Make all the noises you want. I want them.”

Sawyer holds tight around the others neck as the others fingers explore him. As the other speaks it just enhances how good it is. He finds himself more at ease with the idea of being Bishop’s. It’s almost certain that part of this is the claiming, the primal urges of their bodies that they’re denying even now. But not all of it.

The others fingers press to a spot that makes Sawyer arch, a keening cry out as he tightens around Bishop’s fingers. It takes a moment before Sawyer even realizes through the pleasure that he’s coming.

Beautiful.

Bishop isn’t sure but he thinks he might have said the word out loud when he feels Sawyers body clench around his fingers. The slippery feel of of body gripping his fingers is felt in other places but he doesn’t care that he wasn’t falling apart equally right now.

The sound of his mates orgasm is enough. A thrill runs up his back and makes his scalp tingle, and Bishop noses against the others neck, cradling him closer to himself.

When the pleasure starts to subside, Sawyer feels a thread of anxiousness creep up. He can’t feel the mess he’s made inside his pants, the fact it happened so suddenly and quickly… and he hadn’t gotten Bishop off…

Panting, his head tilts, exposing more of his neck to bishop. “I.. I’m…” he struggles to compose himself enough to say a full sentence.

“I’m sorry.”

His body is still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, the intensity of the orgasm he’d just had. It’s not his first But all others paled miserably in comparison.

Sorry?

Nipping the side of his neck playfully, Bishop rumbled lowly and slowly leans back to steal a kiss.

“No, that made me happy,” he says against his mouth, licking out to taste him again, “can I do it again before bed?”

Oh. It should have been something Sawyer could figure out but everything is still a jumble for him, what he’d come to expect all of his life is different from Bishop.

Sawyer kisses, soft but eager, a hunger still in it. He nods at the question. How can he say no?

“You… can do more. Really, you can,” Sawyer says softly, shifting on the others lap and more than aware of the hardness of the others cock. He kisses him again, rocking forward in a way that runs against the other’s cock.

Sawyer could have said no. It was an option he would have given him; hence the question.

But the more he’s kissed, and the more the smaller male moves against him like that, the more he wants to give in. His hands grip at the others hips and for a moment he guides them better against himself. How cock is almost painfully hair but—

—he groans deep in his chest and nips him again.

“You need more time,” he breathes and deepens the kiss because while he is refusing to have sex with him for now, he still can’t get enough of him, “you should enjoy this now, because once I can have you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you. You’re perfect.”

Sawyer gasps as Bishop maneuvers him into a better angle, one that lets him feel it all the better, one he can tell is better for his mate. For a moment, Sawyer is sure that Bishop is going to do it, going to give into their instincts and take him but then he doesn’t. He’s refusing something Sawyer is willingly offering that everyone else had taken by force. He hardly hears the rest of it. He rocks his hips, giving them both some friction before pressing his lips to Bishop’s.

“How can I take care of you then?” He says softly, what would Bishop let him do? Can he touch him again? Can he use his mouth. He’s hesitant to start anything on his own. “I can’t leave you like this,” he says softly, the scent of Bishop’s arousal is driving him a little mad.

A moan bubbles up in his throat and he’s questioning all of his life choices in this moment.

He counts to five a few times and the drowns a little in that kiss. Both hands grip the others backside again, a little harder than before but he flexes his fingers and moves them slowly back down his thighs.

“You can,” he insists. He doesn’t want him to feel obligated. He is curious, though, “…if you could do it what would you want to do to me?”

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