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"I've got you, darlin," Jedao murmurs, giving Eiffel's neck a gentle squeeze, and curling in to give him a slow, leisurely kiss.
Eiffel's mouth falls open with a faint gasp from the squeeze, and then Jedao's kissing him and he lets out a soft moan of surprise.
It takes him a moment to return it, but when he does it's- it's nice, and some of the perpetual tension in him finally relaxes, and his free hand shifts to rest on Jedao's thigh so he can lean in and kiss him properly.
It takes him a moment to return it, but when he does it's- it's nice, and some of the perpetual tension in him finally relaxes, and his free hand shifts to rest on Jedao's thigh so he can lean in and kiss him properly.
Jedao's mouth smiles a little against Eiffel's, and he hums warmly as he feels Eiffel respond. Jedao keeps kissing him, long lazy sensuous kisses, hot and heavy but without urgency.
This is probably the longest Eiffel's ever just made out with someone, like, ever. And he's kind of surprised to find he's enjoying it. Jedao tastes nice, and his hand on Eiffel's neck makes him tingle every time his fingernails gently scrape through his hair, and it's very very easy to lose himself in the heat of it all.
And his comfort in it makes him a little bolder, because when Jedao's tongue enters his mouth again he brings his teeth in a little to catch it for a moment, kissing into him a bit harder.
And his comfort in it makes him a little bolder, because when Jedao's tongue enters his mouth again he brings his teeth in a little to catch it for a moment, kissing into him a bit harder.
The longest he's ever made out with someone is probably still 'also with Jedao, but drunk', but Jedao is confident they can beat the record with Eiffel actually remembering it this time.
He gives a happy little squeak when Eiffel nips at him, his hand grabbing a handful of Eiffel's hair just to hold onto.
He gives a happy little squeak when Eiffel nips at him, his hand grabbing a handful of Eiffel's hair just to hold onto.
His head tips a little into Jedao's grip on his hair with a moan, quiet but guttural in his throat, at the sensation of fingers digging in under his ponytail, and he can feel himself grow hotter from the combined ministration and fluster.
Jedao grins and shifts so that instead of sitting next to Eiffel and half-twisted to kiss him, Jedao straddles Eiffel's lap, knees to either side, so that suddenly it's Jedao looking down at him by a few inches, instead of the reverse.
"You like that, baby?" Jedao asks softly, pulling Eiffel's hair tie free so he can get a better grip, get both hands into those glorious curls. "Your hair's so pretty. I want to pull your hair all the time."
It's not thick, but a trace of Jedao One's Espatan Twang - which sounds remarkably similar to Texas Twang, somehow - seeps into his voice, when he's worked up like this.
"You like that, baby?" Jedao asks softly, pulling Eiffel's hair tie free so he can get a better grip, get both hands into those glorious curls. "Your hair's so pretty. I want to pull your hair all the time."
It's not thick, but a trace of Jedao One's Espatan Twang - which sounds remarkably similar to Texas Twang, somehow - seeps into his voice, when he's worked up like this.
Like most other aspects of his appearance, his hair is not something Eiffel puts any particular thought into. He hates it short, but he can't be bothered doing anything with it long besides a brief detangle in the shower.
So, to have Jedao climb into his goddamn lap is immediately superceded by his hands digging through his hair, freeing it all up and making his eyes flutter with the unexpected, rare sensation against his scalp he is not used to and utterly unprepared for, and it gets another soft, heartfelt groan.
"Y'could do that," he mumbles; meeting Jedao's eyes is too difficult so he focuses on his mouth instead, at those obscene lips. "I-if you wanted to. I don't mind."
So, to have Jedao climb into his goddamn lap is immediately superceded by his hands digging through his hair, freeing it all up and making his eyes flutter with the unexpected, rare sensation against his scalp he is not used to and utterly unprepared for, and it gets another soft, heartfelt groan.
"Y'could do that," he mumbles; meeting Jedao's eyes is too difficult so he focuses on his mouth instead, at those obscene lips. "I-if you wanted to. I don't mind."
"I want to," Jedao promises, voice low and rich and dark.
Jedao tugs obligingly, pulling Eiffel's head back to kiss him again, deeper and messier, hungrier.
Jedao tugs obligingly, pulling Eiffel's head back to kiss him again, deeper and messier, hungrier.
The tug makes him gasp, which makes the whimper that follows escape directly into Jedao's mouth and his own hands flutter awkwardly for a moment until they find purchase on Jedao's hips and grip tight, tense with the urge to yank him in that he's still too gunshy to act on - but Jedao will definitely be able to see, if not sense, what it's doing to him, and the slowly building bulge in his lap.
Jedao groans into the kiss at the tight grip, imagining little fingerprint bruises that won't last more than a few minutes, though he has no idea if they'll really even appear. The idea is enough, though, the sheer feeling of being grabbed, the strength in Eiffel's hands. Jedao kisses him deeper, rough and desperate, for long seconds before pulling back, breathless and grinning. He keeps his tight grip in Eiffel's hair, so Eiffel can't chase him for more kisses, can only wait and want for Jedao to lean in again.
"You don't have to go easy on me," Jedao confides, almost purring. "I like rough."
"You don't have to go easy on me," Jedao confides, almost purring. "I like rough."
There's a breathless little keen from him, between Jedao's sudden intensity pulling back and the hands keeping him from following, and he's already panting heavily, face flushed in any combination of nerves, fluster and arousal.
"O-oh..." He has to swallow to get around the dry lump in his throat, and it's audible before he licks his over-sensitive lips. "Okay."
It's only a subtle shift, but something in Eiffel adjusts, just a little. And the hands on Jedao's hips are dragging nails down the backs of his hips, and the legs he's astride square off their footing so Eiffel can rock Jedao into the soft scrapes he's leaving down his back.
"O-oh..." He has to swallow to get around the dry lump in his throat, and it's audible before he licks his over-sensitive lips. "Okay."
It's only a subtle shift, but something in Eiffel adjusts, just a little. And the hands on Jedao's hips are dragging nails down the backs of his hips, and the legs he's astride square off their footing so Eiffel can rock Jedao into the soft scrapes he's leaving down his back.
Jedao whines high in his throat, head tipped back for a moment as he rocks back, caught between grinding down on Eiffel and pressing back into the scrape of his grip. He's definitely hard as well, panting softly as he spreads his legs a little wider, feeling the stretch in his thighs and letting more of his weight rest in Eiffel's lap.
He can't move his head without the tingling tightness turning painful, but his eyes flick down when Jedao grinds into his lap, and the sight of Jedao's election against his pants, so close to Eiffel's, gets a wavering sort of gasp and a soft, brief litany of "Okay- okay, alright-"
It's not a no or a stop, he just. Needs a second.
"Three times and you're not still wiped out?" he can't help asking - the words escape without much conscious input. "I dunno if I'm that good in person."
It's not a no or a stop, he just. Needs a second.
"Three times and you're not still wiped out?" he can't help asking - the words escape without much conscious input. "I dunno if I'm that good in person."
Jedao's cheeks turn a little more pink.
"It's been hours!" Wait, that sounds worse. He glances slightly away. "I don't even really know if I can get wiped out," he mutters after a beat.
He doesn't know if it's the healing thing, or the mentally-twentyish-thing, or if Kujen made him to be constantly gagging for it on purpose, which is both weirdly, horribly plausible but also fucked up enough that it might just be an indulgent dark fantasy of Jedao's. Or maybe Jedao One was a horny enough bastard Kujen didn't need to bother, which does seem to accord with the evidence. While those thoughts flit through, he relaxes his hold a little, and scrapes his nails lightly over Eiffel's scalp.
"Anyway, don't think about it like you have to keep up. Think of it like, Jedao is so easy."
He blushes even darker saying it out loud.
"It's been hours!" Wait, that sounds worse. He glances slightly away. "I don't even really know if I can get wiped out," he mutters after a beat.
He doesn't know if it's the healing thing, or the mentally-twentyish-thing, or if Kujen made him to be constantly gagging for it on purpose, which is both weirdly, horribly plausible but also fucked up enough that it might just be an indulgent dark fantasy of Jedao's. Or maybe Jedao One was a horny enough bastard Kujen didn't need to bother, which does seem to accord with the evidence. While those thoughts flit through, he relaxes his hold a little, and scrapes his nails lightly over Eiffel's scalp.
"Anyway, don't think about it like you have to keep up. Think of it like, Jedao is so easy."
He blushes even darker saying it out loud.
He notices the grip shift on his scalp, and now that he remembers he has his own hands to use he brings one up to cradle Jedao's neck, scraping firmly up through his hair.
"H'about-" he swallows, and pulls Jedao in a little, to kiss his forehead. "How about- Jedao likes a good time. He, um." His hips shift, and he nearly whimpers at the pressure Jedao's thighs on his making the tightness of his initially slack jeans worse. "He knows what he's about."
"H'about-" he swallows, and pulls Jedao in a little, to kiss his forehead. "How about- Jedao likes a good time. He, um." His hips shift, and he nearly whimpers at the pressure Jedao's thighs on his making the tightness of his initially slack jeans worse. "He knows what he's about."
Jedao shivers a tiny bit at the forehead kiss, an overwhelming little quaver of emotion he couldn't name even if he wanted to.
"I'm okay with easy," he tries to explain, still blushing. He ducks in to rub his cheek for moment against Eiffel's bearded jawline, and then momentarily sucks one earlobe into his mouth. Then breathes hot and close as he murmurs in Eiffel's ear, "As long as you like me easy."
"I'm okay with easy," he tries to explain, still blushing. He ducks in to rub his cheek for moment against Eiffel's bearded jawline, and then momentarily sucks one earlobe into his mouth. Then breathes hot and close as he murmurs in Eiffel's ear, "As long as you like me easy."
Edited 2023-08-06 23:33 (UTC)
The mouth on his ear makes him keen, sharp and surprised directly into Jedao's ear as his hips twitch hard, and whatever train of thought he had is fully derailed.
"I-I-- um, I- I like you," he manages to mumble out, half-choked with lust, and he pulls Jedao in for another kiss.
"I-I-- um, I- I like you," he manages to mumble out, half-choked with lust, and he pulls Jedao in for another kiss.
Jedao moans into the kiss, deep in his throat. He gets one hand back in Eiffel's hair and grips the back of the couch with the other, bracing himself so that he can rock deliberately in Eiffel's lap.
He feels Jedao shifting and can't even think about it when that moan is vibrating in his mouth, making his head ring with it as it rolls down his spine - until the grind pushed into him and he thrusts up hard in surprise with a throaty yelp into Jedao's mouth.
But his hands move, out of Jedao's hair and onto his hips, pulling him in so he knows it was good, to encourage him to do it again.
But his hands move, out of Jedao's hair and onto his hips, pulling him in so he knows it was good, to encourage him to do it again.
It's hard to tell exactly when one moan ends and the next begins; Jedao loves feeling Eiffel pulling him around. And he does do it again - but slower this time, a long, teasing roll of his hips.
Eiffel jerks back from the kiss so he can breathe when that long roll leaves him dizzy and breathless. His hands are tight on Jedao's hips but his voice is stuttering, caught between trying to say something, to beg for more, but unable to get anything out past his flushed body's demands for air making him pant heavily.
Jedao lets him pant for air, lets him have the time to process being overwhelmed. He gazes at Eiffel with a steady, tender smile, drinking in the sight of him, flushed and flustered and lovely. Jedao drops one hand from the couch to trace a thumb lightly against Eiffel's cheekbone, just for the pleasure of touching him.
The soft touch makes his eyes flutter open, and he leans into it as he meets Jedao's eyes - but only for a moment, before he's too flustered to keep it up.
"You keep riding me like that, cowboy, you'll be putting me away wet in no time," he mumbles hoarsely, kissing Jedao's palm and nuzzling into its solid presence.
"You keep riding me like that, cowboy, you'll be putting me away wet in no time," he mumbles hoarsely, kissing Jedao's palm and nuzzling into its solid presence.
Eiffel's kiss against Jedao's palm elicits a full-body shiver, and Jedao whimpers for a moment. The question he meant to ask warmly and wryly comes out just a little bit strained.
"Can I take your pants off first?"
"Can I take your pants off first?"
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