Alec's muscles tense under the pass of those invisible hands, an unmistakable wave of heat following in their wake. Goddamn psychics.
It makes literally no difference in terms of what Henry is doing, but his grip shifts to Henry's wrists, pinning his arms to the mattress on either side of his head. At least this way he can peer down at him, and he quickly comes to the conclusion that his earlier thought was correct. This is a good look on Henry. A very good look.
He dips down, his face a whisper away, and mutters, ]
If you get a nosebleed all over my bed, I'll kick your fucking ass.
[ Then he closes the distance for another of those hungry, heated kisses. His turn to get teeth involved, catching Henry's lower lip hard enough to sting. ]
i guess we should put a nsfw warning on this thread huh
Henry strains his wrists against Alec’s grip, but he cannot so much as budge. Not wholly surprising, though it leaves him with no option but to look up at him, that storm in his eyes bright and wicked.
He wants to make a remark about how he wouldn’t strain himself enough for a nosebleed before he’s done with Alec, but the other catches his lips in a kiss again, teeth pressing down at his lip. It stings, it hurts a little — and Henry quite decides that he likes that, too. It sends a thrill right up his spine, and it wins him a pleasurable noise from somewhere in the back of his throat.
He lifts his head up, pressing harder, encouraging him. Meanwhile, those invisible hands decide to slide right up the inside of Alec’s thighs with no preamble, creeping perilously high. If one man’s going to tent in his pants first, he’s determined it’s going to be Alec, not him.]
[ That sound. Of course Henry would like a little pain. Of course. He can probably feel the way Alec grins against his lips. He's going to remember that. Hell, Henry's in good company for it.
The feeling of being touched moves quite suddenly to his inner thighs. Higher, higher, teasing, and his body warms treacherously under the sensation. Alec makes a small noise of frustration into Henry's mouth, tearing himself away from the kiss. He relents his grip on Henry's wrists, at least. If the guy's going to touch him, he might as well use his own goddamn hands. ]
Asshole.
[ It comes out sharp and undoubtedly heated. In a smooth motion, he shrugs off the jacket and hoodie he usually wears, leaving him in the plan t-shirt beneath. The dark bands of Alec's tattoos stand stark against his skin. It's hard to tell with the shirt still on just how many there are. Ten? Twelve?
That done, deft fingers fly over the buttons of Henry's shirt to undo them. He hasn't yet reached the sort of impatience that might lead him to pop one off, but if he does, he'll just fix it later. ]
[Maybe he’ll get a chance to return the favor, because Henry definitely felt the curve of Alec’s grin against his lips. Those same lips throb when he pulls away, leaving him with a moment to watch as he sheds his layers. Idly, he notes the smear of blood present on his jawline from before. He still thinks that’s a striking look.]
I think you like it well enough.
[Henry’s bare-chested beneath his shirt, and Alec’s efforts to undo his buttons will reveal pale, unmarred skin. He pushes himself up on an elbow while his other hand, now free, mimics where those invisible touches trailed just prior. Two fingers run up Alec’s inseam, ending with a palm pressed against his crotch to distract him.]
[ He's quite honestly forgotten about the blood on his face. It's the furthest thing from his mind right now. In fact, Alec very suddenly has a new goal in mind, which is to make Henry Creel shut the fuck up.
He hisses through his teeth again, both hating and loving the bolt of heat that shoots through him when Henry palms at his crotch. The barest promise of friction. He doesn't quite take the bait, though. He's not going to fall apart just because Henry is teasing him through his jeans. ]
I think you should lay back down.
[ Low, cold. He plants a hand on Henry's now-bare chest to force the issue, leaning into him to ease him back down. And speaking of cold, his touch is arctic. Frigid digits press into pale skin, cold, cold, cold enough to sting. Just when it seems it might become unbearable, Alec's touch warms, soothing the bite away. His quite literally heated touch travels southward, over Henry's stomach, to the clasp of his pants. ]
[With any luck, he’s forgotten about the slow-clotting cut on his hand, too, which is more likely to taint his sheets with blood than any nosebleed. Henry’s forgotten about it, and he even instinctively grabs a handful of bedspread as Alec pushes him down with that frustrating, magic-bolstered strength.]
I think you don’t get to tell me what to do.
[A sentence that loses all of its conviction when Alec begins to graze his skin with an utterly glacial touch, hissing out a breath at the trail of stinging numbness. This is very different from the time he froze him in place in their shared dream; this brings less frustration—even if on the verge of discomfort—and more of that thrill, and his body throbs with a warmth from deep inside, even before Alec banishes away the cold. The relief from that, too, is pleasurable.
His chest rises and falls with a haggard breath. Almost too stimulating, too new, and too easy to get lost in — Henry can’t allow that so soon, and while Alec fusses near his fly, he palms the place between his legs harder, trailing upwards to guarantee more friction this time.
And an invisible force once more makes contact, this time right at the back of his neck and shoulders, pushing him down into another kiss. One of teeth and pressure, before he chooses to use his tongue to urge the other man’s lips apart further.]
[ That shuddering breath that he manages to coax from Henry with the play of hot cold across his skin is like music to his ears. He gets the sense he got close to something there, a perfect combination of sensation that will drag Henry under. He doesn't expect him to be compliant by any means, but perhaps a little more willing to let Alec slowly unravel him.
They'll get there.
And then Henry's hand is there again, pressing against his crotch, sliding upwards. It brings with it the same whip-crack of heat, the same throb of his pulse, but it's become abundantly clear that some measure of pride is on the line here, and he isn't going to crumble first. One of them here hasn't seen any action in a long time, if ever, and it sure as hell isn't Alec.
He spares some thought to resisting the tug of Henry's powers, but ultimately it's not worth the strain - and ultimately, maybe he enjoys the hungry way they kiss. He parts his lips in almost the same instant that Henry does, seeking to take the kiss deeper, and their tongues slide messily together. A perfect microcosm of everything wrong with this whole fucking situation.
Between them, Alec somehow manages to work Henry's fly open, and magically warmed fingers dip further still to trace the line of him through his underwear. ]
[It is absolutely about pride. It is about wanting to be the one in control, reflecting the nature of his own powers, the nature of himself in a way that manifests in ways that aren’t just sexual. He wants to see Alec writhe and come undone beneath him, see parts of him that maybe few others can; again, a rather oversized ideal given that he’s the one with little to no experience in the bedroom.
It doesn’t matter. Henry is determined to make it a reality, or at least guarantee that he isn’t the one falling to pieces first. His tongue pushes inside the other man’s mouth, another instance of assertion, but how frustratingly that comes undone when the warm graze of Alec’s fingers slips into the open vee of his fly. The forceful touch of his powers dissipates then, and Henry tilts his mouth away, but not without leaving a biting sting on the other’s lower lip again.]
What’s your hurry?
[Beneath Alec’s touch, Henry’s already stiffening. It won’t take much, despite his stubborn nature, especially since it’ll become clear that the attentions of someone else will feel quite different than that of his own hand.
His powers clench around Alec’s wrist — but notably, only enough to offer a small amount of resistance, not stop him altogether from touching him.]
[ Pride and control are going to be some pretty big points of contention should they continue to crash into bed together like this. Alec's own personality is such that he likes to be the one at the reins, likes orchestrating things, and knowing what's happening and why.
Henry is fighting him, clearly wanting to be the one on top - in action, rather than physically in this case, since Alec is fairly certain he has that much on lock at least. He's rough about it, inelegant, as he forces his tongue into Alec's mouth. It's so very satisfying when that show of force all but fizzles out with the mere touch of his fingers.
Alec licks his lips, laving away the sting left by the other's teeth. ]
What's the matter? Afraid you're not gonna last?
[ He stills his fingers when that pressure curls around his wrist, touch hovering just enough to whisper across Henry's growing arousal.
The action halts just enough, the game of tug-of-war put on pause, and Alec's brain catches up to the rest of him. The teasing jab throws into sharp relief the fact that the man beneath him has been trapped in an alternate plane for years, and before that? Locked up in a government lab. Oh, hell. ]
[He tilts his head slightly, looking up at Alec as the gears turn and snap into place. It skews locks of otherwise perfectly put-together hair across the pillow. Henry makes a point to ignore the heat hovering just above his arousal, just as he chooses to ignore that not all of that heat is radiating from Alec alone.]
No.
[Simply. There’s no shame in that admittance—shame is a feeling that Henry Creel is nearly a stranger to, these days, having abandoned it long, long ago—though he does wonder if this belated realization changes Alec’s tune on how to proceed. It doesn’t for Henry. He can figure it out as he goes.]
When would I have had the chance?
[His hands trail down during this interruption to fuss with the button of Alec’s jeans. He’ll take this opportunity to play catch-up if he has to.]
Don't tell me that's made you change your mind. Or are you going to treat me like a piece of fine china, now?
[ He realizes it's a stupid question the second it leaves his mouth, because yes, when would Henry have had the chance? Being a government guinea pig and then somehow turning into a slab of beef jerky probably does not do wonders for one's sex life.
He rolls his eyes at the insinuation that this is somehow going to stop or proceed differently. ]
Oh, please.
[ He flexes his hand against the loose hold of Henry's powers, fingers dipping down to touch again, a bit more firmly. If that makes Henry fumble with his zipper, then so be it. ]
[Good. He’d hate to be treated like a delicate thing, and it’s probably obvious to Alec that going about this rough, rather than gentle, is his preference, anyway.
He’s touched again, the pressure firmer, and Henry purposefully bites down any noise he’d make at that, gnawing his teeth against his bottom lip. He looks at Alec again, eyes darkened with a growing inner conflict — delighted at the bolt of excitement buzzing through him versus not wanting to appear to overeager, to lose whatever contest he’s strung between them. It makes his gaze piercing, raking. And yes, when he does fumble with Alec’s zipper, his powers release once more, and he rucks his hips up into his hand in a show of self-indulgence, but also—
That invisible touch, forceful this time, attempts to push Alec straight off, so that the other man lands beside him on the bed, robbing him of his position on top. Here, he can press his lips and teeth hard against the curve of his neck; here, if successful for even a moment, he can finally pry open the fly of Alec’s jeans and dip long, questing fingers straight in.]
[ If Henry likes it rough, then Henry's going to get it rough, especially if he keeps trying to fight back.
Once again satisfaction flares bright as Henry finally gives in and grinds up into Alec's touch, the darkened look in mismatched eyes enough to bring a smirk to his face. The telekinetic grip dissipates and Alec finds himself letting his guard down for just the barest of moments, and finds himself flipped over because of it.
Alright, lesson learned.
Henry goes for his neck, and Alec jams his arm up against his chest to stop him, holding him at bay easily. That doesn't stop his fingers from finding their mark. It's not as if Alec isn't aroused - he's been getting worked up since that moment in the kitchen, though he's certainly been better at hiding it. A ragged exhale is all Henry gets for his trouble. ]
Just what do you think you're gonna do from up there, huh?
[ He says, rhetorically, because a split second later he's leveraging his strength to get Henry back on his back. He slots himself over Henry's hips, the heat of his body flush against the bulge straining against Henry's underwear. ]
C'mon, Henry. You're not gonna win this one. Might as well just give in and enjoy yourself.
Edited (noticed a typo sssh) 2022-11-21 02:00 (UTC)
[Oh, but he can feel the line of him with his fingers, the heat there, even as he’s blocked from chasing after a kiss. Too bad he doesn’t get the chance to enjoy it for very long, or hear little more than a breathy exhale of air from Alec—not much of a reward for the effort—because his damnable strength enables him to flip them over again, right where he started.
...Almost right where they started. Alec’s body slots right on top of his hips, friction and heat teasing at his erection which is starting to strain in the confines of his underwear. Henry makes a sound of low frustration, this time keeping himself still beneath him. Too much shifting and wiggling about will only flush him more, stimulate him more.]
Just how alluring do you think you are, that I’m just going to lie here and let you do whatever you want to me?
[A hand reaching up to catch his chin between forefinger and thumb.]
Work for it. I’m not that easy to unravel. [(Again, says the virgin.)]
[ Henry likes to do that, doesn't he? Make a grab for Alec's chin. His hand snaps up to catch Henry by the wrist, tugging his grip away. ]
You kissed me, Henry. Is that not alluring enough for you?
[ Again, the sound of thunder fills the room. Low, rolling, threatening. Almost an outward manifestation of the storm Henry saw in his mind. Alec's pulse thrums with it, the thrill of having Henry, big bad I'm-going-to-end-the world Henry, struggling beneath him.
His free hand comes up to catch Henry by the chin instead, to hold his gaze. The light in his eyes dances wildly as he leans down, down, down, so very close. His voice goes low, breathy. ]
You really gonna lie there and tell me you don't want. This.
[ A slow, languid roll of his body from where he sits. Sweet, sweet friction. ]
[Henry does enjoy grasping Alec by the chin, touching his face; just one more hint of powerplay at his disposal. But of course he’s deprived of that, too, when his wrist is pulled away, and it leaves him with fingers curling claw-like, unable to grasp at anything.
Instead, Alec grips his chin, forcing his gaze upwards into that stormy, electric light behind his eyes. He’s close, so, so close— and there it is again. That deep, dark intensity that he had seen once before, utterly arresting, like being caught in a pressurized atmosphere just waiting to roil and break. It leaves Henry without a reply, barely even remembering to exhale, and definitely not remembering to look indignant. He is mesmerized for that half-second by something as severe in intensity as himself, like looking into a mirror and finding stormlight staring back, elegant and challenging.
And then Alec grinds so utterly languorously around him, and he’s wrenched back into reality by the treacherous nature of his own body. The coiling heat in his belly, bolting all the way down to his groin. Henry sets his jaw, but it’s too little too late. Out comes a guttural sound, reverberating low, head craning up on instinct to reveal the smooth tract of his neck.]
[ There's so much here that happens that Alec likes. The way he seems to hold Henry captive that has little to do with his physical grip. The way he startles him with the movement of his body. That noise that rumbles up out of him, almost in answer to Alec's thunder. The pretty way he bares his throat, certainly unintentional but enticing all the same.
He smiles, an expression that has more in common with a knife in the dark than anything nearing joy. ]
I know.
[ His grip slides from Henry's jaw to catch a fistful of his hair instead, his grip tight, unmoving as if he were made of steel rather than flesh and blood. His breath whispers past Henry's lips as he ducks his head to instead help himself to the exposed line of his throat. Teeth catch unkindly against skin, and Alec's tongue passes over the marks he leaves in his wake. ]
Edited (i didn't forget to pick an icon don't look at me) 2022-11-22 00:20 (UTC)
[Held by fingers fisting tightly in his hair, pulling at his scalp, Henry should only feel a flare of agitation, of indignation; how dare he press him down, how dare he try to control him like this? And there is a small part of him that does feel that way, his mind clawing for some kind of warning to snipe back.
None comes.
Instead, that thrill again, the sting melding with pleasure and shooting straight down to his hardening cock between his legs. His pride declares that he should pry that hand away, but everything else wants to indulge in it. Even the hard line of Alec’s teeth against his neck results in the same physiological reaction, his jaw setting and his Adam’s apple bobbing.
His mouth is so warm.
A wholly belated realization, a few moments later, hand rising to grip hard at the back of Alec’s neck:]
Don’t leave a mark. [He practically hisses it out.]
[ Henry's pulse practically races under his mouth, and Alec smiles sharply into his skin. This is what he wants, to work Henry up to the point where he forgets to resist, to get him so lost in the sensation that he doesn't fight back.
They're not quite there, as evidenced a moment later when a hand closes around the back off his neck. Alec laughs, his breath stiflingly warm against Henry's throat. ]
What's the matter? Embarrassed?
[ He settles his hips again, his weight against the hardness at the apex of Henry's legs. This doesn't feel like an objection to him. ]
[It was never an actual objection, no, and his body is certainly showing every sign of enjoying it, hard and starting to throb against Alec's weight. But Henry's face twists with sharp facetiousness, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.]
If you leave a mark, then I'll tell everyone who asks that it was you who put it there.
[Alec seems like a private man who wouldn't want even a shred of his intimacy, heated as it is, put on blast.]
[Again, those invisible hands roam up Alec's chest, then down his back, then trailing back around to his thighs, up and up. Unheeding any clothing that might be in the way.]
You haven't exactly swept me off my feet just yet.
[ He quite literally swept Henry off his feet. And has kept him from getting his feet back under him ever since.
Again with the psychic bullshit. The pass of that invisible touch isn't unpleasant, and there's something to be said for a partner with near unlimited hands at their disposal. He trails off in a hum that dips so low it may as well be a purr. His grip wrenches harder in Henry's hair. ]
If you wanna touch me so bad, Henry, just fucking do it.
[For as long as Henry’s willpower remains in one piece, not yet crumbled under Alec’s everything, he will not take to being bossed around, even in ways that make his heart thud hard in his ribcage. Even when his hair is wrenched again, delightfully forceful.
He’s going to do the opposite of using his hands. The opposite of rising to the bait. It’s almost petulant how that invisible touch all but coalesces right at Alec’s crotch, stroking up and against the contour of him. Back down again.]
[ If Henry's being so terribly clever, so petulant and defiant, then why is Alec grinning like the cat that caught the canary? He breathes out a low, rolling laugh as he angles his hips into those invisible hands, relishing in the sweet heat that sparks through him.
He's got your number, Henry Creel. ]
Yet, you're doing it anyway.
[ He never specified that he needed to use his hands, now did he? ]
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no subject
[ Said mere moments before Henry plays dirty.
Alec's muscles tense under the pass of those invisible hands, an unmistakable wave of heat following in their wake. Goddamn psychics.
It makes literally no difference in terms of what Henry is doing, but his grip shifts to Henry's wrists, pinning his arms to the mattress on either side of his head. At least this way he can peer down at him, and he quickly comes to the conclusion that his earlier thought was correct. This is a good look on Henry. A very good look.
He dips down, his face a whisper away, and mutters, ]
If you get a nosebleed all over my bed, I'll kick your fucking ass.
[ Then he closes the distance for another of those hungry, heated kisses. His turn to get teeth involved, catching Henry's lower lip hard enough to sting. ]
i guess we should put a nsfw warning on this thread huh
Henry strains his wrists against Alec’s grip, but he cannot so much as budge. Not wholly surprising, though it leaves him with no option but to look up at him, that storm in his eyes bright and wicked.
He wants to make a remark about how he wouldn’t strain himself enough for a nosebleed before he’s done with Alec, but the other catches his lips in a kiss again, teeth pressing down at his lip. It stings, it hurts a little — and Henry quite decides that he likes that, too. It sends a thrill right up his spine, and it wins him a pleasurable noise from somewhere in the back of his throat.
He lifts his head up, pressing harder, encouraging him. Meanwhile, those invisible hands decide to slide right up the inside of Alec’s thighs with no preamble, creeping perilously high. If one man’s going to tent in his pants first, he’s determined it’s going to be Alec, not him.]
oh yeah PROBABLY. nobody look.
The feeling of being touched moves quite suddenly to his inner thighs. Higher, higher, teasing, and his body warms treacherously under the sensation. Alec makes a small noise of frustration into Henry's mouth, tearing himself away from the kiss. He relents his grip on Henry's wrists, at least. If the guy's going to touch him, he might as well use his own goddamn hands. ]
Asshole.
[ It comes out sharp and undoubtedly heated. In a smooth motion, he shrugs off the jacket and hoodie he usually wears, leaving him in the plan t-shirt beneath. The dark bands of Alec's tattoos stand stark against his skin. It's hard to tell with the shirt still on just how many there are. Ten? Twelve?
That done, deft fingers fly over the buttons of Henry's shirt to undo them. He hasn't yet reached the sort of impatience that might lead him to pop one off, but if he does, he'll just fix it later. ]
no subject
I think you like it well enough.
[Henry’s bare-chested beneath his shirt, and Alec’s efforts to undo his buttons will reveal pale, unmarred skin. He pushes himself up on an elbow while his other hand, now free, mimics where those invisible touches trailed just prior. Two fingers run up Alec’s inseam, ending with a palm pressed against his crotch to distract him.]
Or do you prefer the warmth of my hand, instead?
no subject
He hisses through his teeth again, both hating and loving the bolt of heat that shoots through him when Henry palms at his crotch. The barest promise of friction. He doesn't quite take the bait, though. He's not going to fall apart just because Henry is teasing him through his jeans. ]
I think you should lay back down.
[ Low, cold. He plants a hand on Henry's now-bare chest to force the issue, leaning into him to ease him back down. And speaking of cold, his touch is arctic. Frigid digits press into pale skin, cold, cold, cold enough to sting. Just when it seems it might become unbearable, Alec's touch warms, soothing the bite away. His quite literally heated touch travels southward, over Henry's stomach, to the clasp of his pants. ]
no subject
I think you don’t get to tell me what to do.
[A sentence that loses all of its conviction when Alec begins to graze his skin with an utterly glacial touch, hissing out a breath at the trail of stinging numbness. This is very different from the time he froze him in place in their shared dream; this brings less frustration—even if on the verge of discomfort—and more of that thrill, and his body throbs with a warmth from deep inside, even before Alec banishes away the cold. The relief from that, too, is pleasurable.
His chest rises and falls with a haggard breath. Almost too stimulating, too new, and too easy to get lost in — Henry can’t allow that so soon, and while Alec fusses near his fly, he palms the place between his legs harder, trailing upwards to guarantee more friction this time.
And an invisible force once more makes contact, this time right at the back of his neck and shoulders, pushing him down into another kiss. One of teeth and pressure, before he chooses to use his tongue to urge the other man’s lips apart further.]
no subject
[ That shuddering breath that he manages to coax from Henry with the play of hot cold across his skin is like music to his ears. He gets the sense he got close to something there, a perfect combination of sensation that will drag Henry under. He doesn't expect him to be compliant by any means, but perhaps a little more willing to let Alec slowly unravel him.
They'll get there.
And then Henry's hand is there again, pressing against his crotch, sliding upwards. It brings with it the same whip-crack of heat, the same throb of his pulse, but it's become abundantly clear that some measure of pride is on the line here, and he isn't going to crumble first. One of them here hasn't seen any action in a long time, if ever, and it sure as hell isn't Alec.
He spares some thought to resisting the tug of Henry's powers, but ultimately it's not worth the strain - and ultimately, maybe he enjoys the hungry way they kiss. He parts his lips in almost the same instant that Henry does, seeking to take the kiss deeper, and their tongues slide messily together. A perfect microcosm of everything wrong with this whole fucking situation.
Between them, Alec somehow manages to work Henry's fly open, and magically warmed fingers dip further still to trace the line of him through his underwear. ]
no subject
It doesn’t matter. Henry is determined to make it a reality, or at least guarantee that he isn’t the one falling to pieces first. His tongue pushes inside the other man’s mouth, another instance of assertion, but how frustratingly that comes undone when the warm graze of Alec’s fingers slips into the open vee of his fly. The forceful touch of his powers dissipates then, and Henry tilts his mouth away, but not without leaving a biting sting on the other’s lower lip again.]
What’s your hurry?
[Beneath Alec’s touch, Henry’s already stiffening. It won’t take much, despite his stubborn nature, especially since it’ll become clear that the attentions of someone else will feel quite different than that of his own hand.
His powers clench around Alec’s wrist — but notably, only enough to offer a small amount of resistance, not stop him altogether from touching him.]
no subject
Henry is fighting him, clearly wanting to be the one on top - in action, rather than physically in this case, since Alec is fairly certain he has that much on lock at least. He's rough about it, inelegant, as he forces his tongue into Alec's mouth. It's so very satisfying when that show of force all but fizzles out with the mere touch of his fingers.
Alec licks his lips, laving away the sting left by the other's teeth. ]
What's the matter? Afraid you're not gonna last?
[ He stills his fingers when that pressure curls around his wrist, touch hovering just enough to whisper across Henry's growing arousal.
The action halts just enough, the game of tug-of-war put on pause, and Alec's brain catches up to the rest of him. The teasing jab throws into sharp relief the fact that the man beneath him has been trapped in an alternate plane for years, and before that? Locked up in a government lab. Oh, hell. ]
Have you even done this before?
no subject
No.
[Simply. There’s no shame in that admittance—shame is a feeling that Henry Creel is nearly a stranger to, these days, having abandoned it long, long ago—though he does wonder if this belated realization changes Alec’s tune on how to proceed. It doesn’t for Henry. He can figure it out as he goes.]
When would I have had the chance?
[His hands trail down during this interruption to fuss with the button of Alec’s jeans. He’ll take this opportunity to play catch-up if he has to.]
Don't tell me that's made you change your mind. Or are you going to treat me like a piece of fine china, now?
no subject
He rolls his eyes at the insinuation that this is somehow going to stop or proceed differently. ]
Oh, please.
[ He flexes his hand against the loose hold of Henry's powers, fingers dipping down to touch again, a bit more firmly. If that makes Henry fumble with his zipper, then so be it. ]
I told you I was going to finish this, didn't I?
no subject
He’s touched again, the pressure firmer, and Henry purposefully bites down any noise he’d make at that, gnawing his teeth against his bottom lip. He looks at Alec again, eyes darkened with a growing inner conflict — delighted at the bolt of excitement buzzing through him versus not wanting to appear to overeager, to lose whatever contest he’s strung between them. It makes his gaze piercing, raking. And yes, when he does fumble with Alec’s zipper, his powers release once more, and he rucks his hips up into his hand in a show of self-indulgence, but also—
That invisible touch, forceful this time, attempts to push Alec straight off, so that the other man lands beside him on the bed, robbing him of his position on top. Here, he can press his lips and teeth hard against the curve of his neck; here, if successful for even a moment, he can finally pry open the fly of Alec’s jeans and dip long, questing fingers straight in.]
no subject
Once again satisfaction flares bright as Henry finally gives in and grinds up into Alec's touch, the darkened look in mismatched eyes enough to bring a smirk to his face. The telekinetic grip dissipates and Alec finds himself letting his guard down for just the barest of moments, and finds himself flipped over because of it.
Alright, lesson learned.
Henry goes for his neck, and Alec jams his arm up against his chest to stop him, holding him at bay easily. That doesn't stop his fingers from finding their mark. It's not as if Alec isn't aroused - he's been getting worked up since that moment in the kitchen, though he's certainly been better at hiding it. A ragged exhale is all Henry gets for his trouble. ]
Just what do you think you're gonna do from up there, huh?
[ He says, rhetorically, because a split second later he's leveraging his strength to get Henry back on his back. He slots himself over Henry's hips, the heat of his body flush against the bulge straining against Henry's underwear. ]
C'mon, Henry. You're not gonna win this one. Might as well just give in and enjoy yourself.
no subject
...Almost right where they started. Alec’s body slots right on top of his hips, friction and heat teasing at his erection which is starting to strain in the confines of his underwear. Henry makes a sound of low frustration, this time keeping himself still beneath him. Too much shifting and wiggling about will only flush him more, stimulate him more.]
Just how alluring do you think you are, that I’m just going to lie here and let you do whatever you want to me?
[A hand reaching up to catch his chin between forefinger and thumb.]
Work for it. I’m not that easy to unravel. [(Again, says the virgin.)]
no subject
You kissed me, Henry. Is that not alluring enough for you?
[ Again, the sound of thunder fills the room. Low, rolling, threatening. Almost an outward manifestation of the storm Henry saw in his mind. Alec's pulse thrums with it, the thrill of having Henry, big bad I'm-going-to-end-the world Henry, struggling beneath him.
His free hand comes up to catch Henry by the chin instead, to hold his gaze. The light in his eyes dances wildly as he leans down, down, down, so very close. His voice goes low, breathy. ]
You really gonna lie there and tell me you don't want. This.
[ A slow, languid roll of his body from where he sits. Sweet, sweet friction. ]
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Instead, Alec grips his chin, forcing his gaze upwards into that stormy, electric light behind his eyes. He’s close, so, so close— and there it is again. That deep, dark intensity that he had seen once before, utterly arresting, like being caught in a pressurized atmosphere just waiting to roil and break. It leaves Henry without a reply, barely even remembering to exhale, and definitely not remembering to look indignant. He is mesmerized for that half-second by something as severe in intensity as himself, like looking into a mirror and finding stormlight staring back, elegant and challenging.
And then Alec grinds so utterly languorously around him, and he’s wrenched back into reality by the treacherous nature of his own body. The coiling heat in his belly, bolting all the way down to his groin. Henry sets his jaw, but it’s too little too late. Out comes a guttural sound, reverberating low, head craning up on instinct to reveal the smooth tract of his neck.]
You're insufferable.
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He smiles, an expression that has more in common with a knife in the dark than anything nearing joy. ]
I know.
[ His grip slides from Henry's jaw to catch a fistful of his hair instead, his grip tight, unmoving as if he were made of steel rather than flesh and blood. His breath whispers past Henry's lips as he ducks his head to instead help himself to the exposed line of his throat. Teeth catch unkindly against skin, and Alec's tongue passes over the marks he leaves in his wake. ]
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None comes.
Instead, that thrill again, the sting melding with pleasure and shooting straight down to his hardening cock between his legs. His pride declares that he should pry that hand away, but everything else wants to indulge in it. Even the hard line of Alec’s teeth against his neck results in the same physiological reaction, his jaw setting and his Adam’s apple bobbing.
His mouth is so warm.
A wholly belated realization, a few moments later, hand rising to grip hard at the back of Alec’s neck:]
Don’t leave a mark. [He practically hisses it out.]
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They're not quite there, as evidenced a moment later when a hand closes around the back off his neck. Alec laughs, his breath stiflingly warm against Henry's throat. ]
What's the matter? Embarrassed?
[ He settles his hips again, his weight against the hardness at the apex of Henry's legs. This doesn't feel like an objection to him. ]
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If you leave a mark, then I'll tell everyone who asks that it was you who put it there.
[Alec seems like a private man who wouldn't want even a shred of his intimacy, heated as it is, put on blast.]
Is that what you want?
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[ No, Alec normally wouldn't want that sort of information out in the open, but at the moment he feels confident enough to call Henry's bluff. ]
Be sure to add in how much you like being beneath me, while you're at it.
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Don't give yourself so much credit.
[Again, those invisible hands roam up Alec's chest, then down his back, then trailing back around to his thighs, up and up. Unheeding any clothing that might be in the way.]
You haven't exactly swept me off my feet just yet.
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I'm giving myself the perfect amount of credit.
[ He quite literally swept Henry off his feet. And has kept him from getting his feet back under him ever since.
Again with the psychic bullshit. The pass of that invisible touch isn't unpleasant, and there's something to be said for a partner with near unlimited hands at their disposal. He trails off in a hum that dips so low it may as well be a purr. His grip wrenches harder in Henry's hair. ]
If you wanna touch me so bad, Henry, just fucking do it.
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He’s going to do the opposite of using his hands. The opposite of rising to the bait. It’s almost petulant how that invisible touch all but coalesces right at Alec’s crotch, stroking up and against the contour of him. Back down again.]
Don’t pretend to know what I want.
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He's got your number, Henry Creel. ]
Yet, you're doing it anyway.
[ He never specified that he needed to use his hands, now did he? ]
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finally a use for this icon
s i r
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