The moan that follows is silent but the orgasm is intense. The way Sawyers body holds onto his, responding exactly the way his needs, Bishop curls tighter around him and swallows a groan as he comes inside of him.
They’re long, heavy bursts that make his muscles tremble enough that it’s a miracle he’s able to keep standing with the other in his arms.
Little stars light up and he backs of his eyelids and when he opens his eyes, he’s kissing over the others shoulder with so much affection that he’s almost embarrassed by it.
Sawyer moans again when the other comes inside of him, feeling his seed and it excites him more somehow. He rocks back into him even as the other's already coming down it doesn't matter. He just wants a little more.
He shivers as the other starts to kiss over his shoulders and he lets out a soft sigh. It's nice... in the shower, there's not the immediate feeling of dirtiness, the immediate need to clean up. He basks in the pleasure longer.
Pulling free after a few long moments of breathing, Bishop turns Sawyer around and presses him against the tile again. But this time it’s because he just wants to kiss him. It’s a lazy thing fully of deep seated affection and the way his hands move back around the others hips, even more desire than before.
Sawyer whimpers softly as he's pressed against the tile. He's still full of desire for the other and he can scarcely understand how it's possible. He kisses him back, tongue pressing to tongue, to explore if a little shyly.
The way the other touches his hips makes his body heat. His lips part at the other's admission, exhaling a quiet moan.
Is he going into heat? Is Bishop going into a rut? Is this just... normal desire? He doesn't know. He just knows that the other's scent is overwhelming and he feels desperate to have him again.
"Mm," he knows the water is going to get cold soon, though. wouldn't it? Despite that he tilts his head pressing another kiss to the other's lips.
Bishop was going to take that as some sort of permission. The kiss is returned hungrily and he reaches down to lift Sawyer up onto his arms again.
The water would have to warm up again to get cleaned up, and the sheets could be washed.
He turns the water off blindly and carefully carries him back into their room, to their bed. He presses him down against the warm, dry bedding and doesn’t even stop kissing him the entire time.
Sawyer makes a quiet sound not quite surprised but still being lifted without a warning is enough to draw noise. He wraps his arms tightly around the other's neck as his legs grasp around the other's waist.
He shivers despite the heat of arousal when the water turns off and the air instantly turns cool on his skin. But he doesn't have time to think about it. Their bodies are flush together, arousal still high. His body is a mess, he knows, he's full of slick and come and he knows his thighs are no less messy with it either.
Sawyer doesn't let himself think too much about the mess, the mess that they're now going to make on the bed. The bedding is soft and warm and Sawyer relishes it even more than usual after the cold of the air on his skin. His nipples feel even more drawn tight than he's used to, even the air makes them feel sensitive. He arches up against Bishop. His kisses are hungry even if they're far more shy than Bishop's. He lets the other have his way, easily following him.
Sawyer makes some of the best noises Bishop has ever heard. But there was no rut happening, no heat. This was just…them.
Them responding to each other.
The bed is instantly dampened but Bishop doesn’t care and neither should Sawyer. He can still feel a wall up, something that’s off but he can’t tell what it is.
Breaking the kiss he hovers over the other and looks over his face; beautiful…
“I can smell that your body wants this, but do you?” He asks carefully, quiet, reaching down to guide himself against the others entrance again.
Sawyer can't help but care. It's a habit. It's...maybe something a little more than that but he doesn't understand really it's just who he is. He blinks when the other looks down at him.
His entrance tenses and relaxes again, anticipating the other sliding in once more. But then the other doesn't do it right away. He curls his fingers into the bedding beneath himself eyes widened a little.
"Of course I do," he says, not sure what he's done wrong to make the other ask him that.
Kissing him again, he gently shakes his head, “just wanted to be sure…”
The ease it takes the slide back inside of him should tell him it’s okay but he can’t help it. There’s no hesitation as he starts to grind back in against him.
Sawyers hair is brushed back away from his face and Bishop watches his features as they move together.
Sawyer finds it hard to be certain that he hadn't done something. He frowns briefly but it's kissed away easily. And as the other slides inside of him again he inhales sharply, hands coming up to grasp the other's sides as the pleasure blooms through him again. He doesn't know how he could want so much, how his body could still take it. In ways he feels far too sensitive but he doesn't want it to stop. He likes the way his body quivers from overstimulation.
His eyes focus on Bishop for a long moment when the other looks at him before he blushes, averting his eyes. The way Bishop looks at him... He feels... like he matters.
Sawyer decides he never wants to disappoint Bishop. He always wants to please him.
Sawyer blushes more when the other says that somehow being called cute flusters him even more than the other thrusting inside of him. There's just something about the way the other looks at him while he's fucking him. It... is a lot.
He instinctively pulls some of the fluffy blanket to cover his face for a moment, even as he moans again as another intense wave of pleasure hits him.
"Stop looking at me and saying things like that." It's muffled by the blanket.
But Bishop smoothes his hands down along the others sides and sits up so he can grab hold of his hips. His skin is so soft that he’s scared he’ll add to the bruises still healing.
Sawyer bites down on his lip behind the blanket and he's sure the other knows that his face is still burning. He's surprised that the other allows him to keep hiding.
But since he's hiding he doesn't have warning when the other moves. He whimpers at the hold on his hips, arching and pressing the blanket harder against his face for a moment.
If he knew the other was worried about leaving bruises he would tell him not to be. That he's not even close to hurting him and if he left bruises then it would be okay. He would be okay with bruises left by Bishop.
Sawyer is surprised when the other lets him go, pulling the blanket down from his face, eyes wide when the other's apology rings in his ears. He pushes the blanket aside completely and his hands instead go to caress over the other's biceps, breathing uneven and there's a tendril of panic running through him.
"Don't say that," he pleads softly. He bites at his lip as he looks up at the other lifting his hips a bit encouragingly. "Don't stop."
“I hurt you,” he responds quickly and for that he is sorry. He hasn’t pulled away completely, just let go of the others hips.
His eyes slide up to meet Sawyers and part of him relaxes but another part doesn’t. He curls back over him and obeys his mate. He doesn’t stop but he does nose him, “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t hurt me…” he says quickly, urgently. He doesn’t know what to do
with someone apologizing to him and he feels a little frustrated.
“What did I do to make you think you hurt me?” He asks, mind spiraling on
what he had done wrong to make him think that that can can scarcely
register how good it feels to have him keep moving.
Bishop can feel the spiral happening and I hope he doesn’t stop moving he does brush his fingers over the others cheek to keep him focused on him.
He licks his lips and breathes to try and get his head straight, “I couldn’t see your face…and you made that sound and I thought…it was pain…the…” bruises.
Sawyer looks up at him as the other touches his cheek. He keeps his eyes on
him and it’s still hard to pull back on the panic but he manages to get
under control again.
“I… I’ll tell you if it hurts,” he says quietly. Or he’ll try to.
“Promise?” Because that would need to be an ongoing thing.
A softer kiss is dropped to the others mouth, a contrast to the slick sounds of their joining bodies but it didn’t matter. His thrusts deepened again, heavy, languid things that drew more and more of his brain and shoved it somewhere else.
Knowing Sawyer wasn’t actually hurt makes it easier to slide back into the former mindset with just one goal: to make him happy. To make him tremble again. To make sure he knows where he belongs now.
The careful thrusts morph along with his mood. The kisses are gentle with affection but there’s a lacing of need, and want and he breathes him in as they slowly get closer to that edge again.
Sawyer finds himself crying out at each thrust. He needs it, this. He wants Bishop and and it amazes him still. Each cry of pleasure that’s drawn out of him is a surprise, that he can feel this good. It’s not hard to make him tremble with need and want. He holds close to Bishop now as they kiss. His lips parted, allowing the other to have full access to his mouth and tongue. The taste of Bishop fills his mouth.
He can feel how slick he’s getting once more, or still is… How can he even be sure anymore. He moans as he rolls his hips up. How is the other so much and still it doesn’t feel like enough?
All of those feelings are mutual. Sex as it is, feels good. But it had never felt this good. He'd never craved it this much, the closeness of it.
But the more he hears those moans and little sounds of pleasure coming from Sawyer the more he doesn't even want to stop. It's like some sort of primal frenzy takes hold of every brain cell and refuses to let it go.
Bishop pants and growls against the others mouth, kissing him with a possessively loving contradiction of a kiss and he chooses to actually knot inside of him again. It feels better that way, to feel Sawyers body hungry and pulling him in like that. He's already leaking heavily inside of the other, his mixing with the others slick feels...so good.
Everything feels too tight, but in that really good way that makes him not want to stop but he also doesn't want to hurt him either.
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They’re long, heavy bursts that make his muscles tremble enough that it’s a miracle he’s able to keep standing with the other in his arms.
Little stars light up and he backs of his eyelids and when he opens his eyes, he’s kissing over the others shoulder with so much affection that he’s almost embarrassed by it.
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He shivers as the other starts to kiss over his shoulders and he lets out a soft sigh. It's nice... in the shower, there's not the immediate feeling of dirtiness, the immediate need to clean up. He basks in the pleasure longer.
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“Still want you…”
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The way the other touches his hips makes his body heat. His lips part at the other's admission, exhaling a quiet moan.
Is he going into heat? Is Bishop going into a rut? Is this just... normal desire? He doesn't know. He just knows that the other's scent is overwhelming and he feels desperate to have him again.
"Mm," he knows the water is going to get cold soon, though. wouldn't it? Despite that he tilts his head pressing another kiss to the other's lips.
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The water would have to warm up again to get cleaned up, and the sheets could be washed.
He turns the water off blindly and carefully carries him back into their room, to their bed. He presses him down against the warm, dry bedding and doesn’t even stop kissing him the entire time.
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He shivers despite the heat of arousal when the water turns off and the air instantly turns cool on his skin. But he doesn't have time to think about it. Their bodies are flush together, arousal still high. His body is a mess, he knows, he's full of slick and come and he knows his thighs are no less messy with it either.
Sawyer doesn't let himself think too much about the mess, the mess that they're now going to make on the bed. The bedding is soft and warm and Sawyer relishes it even more than usual after the cold of the air on his skin. His nipples feel even more drawn tight than he's used to, even the air makes them feel sensitive. He arches up against Bishop. His kisses are hungry even if they're far more shy than Bishop's. He lets the other have his way, easily following him.
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Them responding to each other.
The bed is instantly dampened but Bishop doesn’t care and neither should Sawyer. He can still feel a wall up, something that’s off but he can’t tell what it is.
Breaking the kiss he hovers over the other and looks over his face; beautiful…
“I can smell that your body wants this, but do you?” He asks carefully, quiet, reaching down to guide himself against the others entrance again.
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His entrance tenses and relaxes again, anticipating the other sliding in once more. But then the other doesn't do it right away. He curls his fingers into the bedding beneath himself eyes widened a little.
"Of course I do," he says, not sure what he's done wrong to make the other ask him that.
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The ease it takes the slide back inside of him should tell him it’s okay but he can’t help it. There’s no hesitation as he starts to grind back in against him.
Sawyers hair is brushed back away from his face and Bishop watches his features as they move together.
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His eyes focus on Bishop for a long moment when the other looks at him before he blushes, averting his eyes. The way Bishop looks at him... He feels... like he matters.
Sawyer decides he never wants to disappoint Bishop. He always wants to please him.
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He smiles against the others mouth and steals a brief kiss, “you’re cute when you get shy…”
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He instinctively pulls some of the fluffy blanket to cover his face for a moment, even as he moans again as another intense wave of pleasure hits him.
"Stop looking at me and saying things like that." It's muffled by the blanket.
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Fine. He wants to hide. He can hide.
But Bishop smoothes his hands down along the others sides and sits up so he can grab hold of his hips. His skin is so soft that he’s scared he’ll add to the bruises still healing.
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But since he's hiding he doesn't have warning when the other moves. He whimpers at the hold on his hips, arching and pressing the blanket harder against his face for a moment.
If he knew the other was worried about leaving bruises he would tell him not to be. That he's not even close to hurting him and if he left bruises then it would be okay. He would be okay with bruises left by Bishop.
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"Don't say that," he pleads softly. He bites at his lip as he looks up at the other lifting his hips a bit encouragingly. "Don't stop."
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His eyes slide up to meet Sawyers and part of him relaxes but another part doesn’t. He curls back over him and obeys his mate. He doesn’t stop but he does nose him, “I’m sorry.”
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Sawyer shakes his head.
“You didn’t hurt me…” he says quickly, urgently. He doesn’t know what to do with someone apologizing to him and he feels a little frustrated.
“What did I do to make you think you hurt me?” He asks, mind spiraling on what he had done wrong to make him think that that can can scarcely register how good it feels to have him keep moving.
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He licks his lips and breathes to try and get his head straight, “I couldn’t see your face…and you made that sound and I thought…it was pain…the…” bruises.
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Sawyer looks up at him as the other touches his cheek. He keeps his eyes on him and it’s still hard to pull back on the panic but he manages to get under control again.
“I… I’ll tell you if it hurts,” he says quietly. Or he’ll try to.
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A softer kiss is dropped to the others mouth, a contrast to the slick sounds of their joining bodies but it didn’t matter. His thrusts deepened again, heavy, languid things that drew more and more of his brain and shoved it somewhere else.
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Sawyer hesitates and then slowly nods. There’s caveats in his head but he doesn’t say it out loud. He just nods a second time.
“Promise,” he says softly.
He kisses him just as softly but earnestly. He wraps his legs around the others hips as if he can pull him in deeper if he tightens his thighs enough.
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The careful thrusts morph along with his mood. The kisses are gentle with affection but there’s a lacing of need, and want and he breathes him in as they slowly get closer to that edge again.
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He can feel how slick he’s getting once more, or still is… How can he even be sure anymore. He moans as he rolls his hips up. How is the other so much and still it doesn’t feel like enough?
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But the more he hears those moans and little sounds of pleasure coming from Sawyer the more he doesn't even want to stop. It's like some sort of primal frenzy takes hold of every brain cell and refuses to let it go.
Bishop pants and growls against the others mouth, kissing him with a possessively loving contradiction of a kiss and he chooses to actually knot inside of him again. It feels better that way, to feel Sawyers body hungry and pulling him in like that. He's already leaking heavily inside of the other, his mixing with the others slick feels...so good.
Everything feels too tight, but in that really good way that makes him not want to stop but he also doesn't want to hurt him either.
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