[SAV] IC INBOX/MAILBOX

[deconstruct]

I N B O X

IC Contact " It's Andyr. Do your thing. " Mun Contact • PLURK: Wuzzafuzzle • Journal PM

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[abide]

[ There's no wrong answer, he says, but Steve feels like everything is balanced just on the edge of it, turned on and anxious and completely unsure in this moment. He knows very little aside from the obvious, aside from Andyr's hands warm on his skin and his mouth scorching a trail wherever he presses a kiss. He fumbles with his clothes, freeing himself of those thin pants, and it's hardly the first time Steve has seen him naked. Yet, this is the first time he's wanted to look, to let his eyes linger and remember the line of his hips and the dip of his navel. What his cock looks like. A shiver drives itself through him, blindly following Andyr's example, and when he's over him, resting some of his weight on an elbow and fingers combing through damp hair to tilt his face back, he wants so much that he doesn't even know how to begin to voice it.

Instead, he tries to breathe and slow down, a shy note to the way he kisses the corner of his mouth and simply whispers his name against his jaw. There are more kisses, touching the edge of his collarbone and breathing hot against his sternum, looking down and memorizing every detail that he can. Something still continues to war with him, telling him to stop and step back and give them space before they cross a line that'll be too difficult to ever return from, but the drowsiness of his want - a different sort of urging - smothers it flat, fingers splaying over his stomach and inching low. Lower. Slow and steady, and touching Andyr isn't really too much different than touching himself besides size and shape. And he's so hot, burning up as Steve's eyes glance at his face and then back down to the hard jut of his dick between his fingers with too many thoughts overwhelming him to ever pick one.

So, he just lets the first thing on the tip of his tongue roll out of his mouth, curling his hand tight as he leans back to bump his nose against Andyr's. ] I want you. [ It's such a simple thing, a heavy admittance that sinks through him, and isn't it obvious by how affected he is because of all this? He wants more of Andyr's touch, wants to hear his voice and feel the way he presses against him. The soft sounds and the sweetness that comes from it, how it grips tight around his heart and nearly chokes him with it. ] Tell me-- [ But he shakes his head and finally moves, lets his fingers stroke the length of him as he lifts his hips and looks down to watch.

More than anything, he wants to see it, remember it, and there's no embarrassment in that moment, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Steve tries to work it into a rhythm, testing what he likes and what he might not. He grips him hard, strokes him harder, and then, alternates to something slow, easy and lazy. It's all instinct now, thinking how much better it'd be if he slid out of his own pants and rocked against him without a single stitch of clothing, but he's too focused on this, on the testing and touching and watching. He's too focused on Andyr feeling good, tripping over every unspoken word he still wants to whisper in his ear and shuddering with it. Just a little more, he thinks, and his hand slides around him easier now, wetter with each push of his hand. He grinds himself against the inside of his thigh.

Just a little more. ]

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[ for the first moment since that kiss, there's a lull in the downward tumbling of them, and andyr feels a sort of buzzing, nervous excitement flit through him, as steve looks over his bared body, eyes drinking in details, examining, tracing with his hands and his lips. he can count the times he's been intimate like this on one hand, the first time all teenage fumbling, and the second too fast and fierce to have a moment as calm as this. he hasn't felt this brand of nerves under assessment in a long time, and there's that basic thrum of desire to be appreciated, wanted and liked. to be a fond memory, something that floats into steve's head in later days and drives him a little insane. god knows andyr's going to be doing the same with the picture of him breathing heavy, all red on his chest, neck and cheeks, with the clear outline of his flushed cock showing, wet fabric clinging too closely.

it's a simple sort of affection in the way his lips part at the whisper of his name, sounding foreign and so much more weighted on steve's tongue, and andyr presses his face into Steve's, lifting just to rub his cheek against his - just to feel him, to be here with him, the simple and pure fondness of it. his fingers curl around andyr's length, and he shivers to be touched so intimately. i want you, steve tells him, with his hand feeling to warm around his cock, and his body pressing down against him with such a reassuring, pleasant weight, andyr entirely stripped and laid out for him. being open and free like this is something of a thrill, and when steve starts to stroke him, hard and firm and slow and languid, lord almighty, his head spins. ]

God-- You've got me, Steve. [ andyr breathes out in a harsh, hitched whisper, as his body arches and bows up against him, and his arms wrap over steve's broad, strong shoulders. he can feel the muscle pull and tense, fingertips digging in slightly, and when lidded eyes find steve's there's a breathless smile on his lips, pupil blown wide and andyr looking perfectly blissed out, as he catches his lips for a slow, passionate kiss, muttering against his lips as his hips roll up to meet steve's hand. ] Just like that.

[ a leg pulls up, squeezing tight to steve's side, and the other, with steve grinding against his thigh, pushing back up against him. this feels like heaven, having steve touch him so sweetly, making his body sing, but there's the concern that steve needs something else, that leaving him to grind against andyr's thigh isn't enough. ] Do you need more? [ doesn't have to be sex, but there's other things andyr can come up with. ]

[abide]

[ Maybe it isn't fair to give promises he isn't sure he'll be able to keep, but for just a moment, between the soft affection of Andyr rubbing his cheek against his and smiling so wonderfully, Steve wants to offer him the world. It's a strange rush of endorphins, an intoxication that burns right through him as they kiss, and this is what he knows, the press of his lips and the depth of his mouth as he jerks him off with a straightforwardness that reads as anything but foreplay. There is none of that here, just a rough fumbling of limbs and bodies and an unspoken need between them that stems from deep in his chest. Elsewhere, too, but Steve is solely focused on Andyr now, not the pressure of his own arousal as he rolls his hips forward to thrust against him or the bite of his own sweat when his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. It's the slickness of Andyr's cock between his fingers, the heavy murmur of his name and that gentle question that pulls him along like he's lost in the current. If they're loud, it doesn't matter. Because no one would think to swim across that lagoon and find them tucked away behind this waterfall, and no one would ever see just how completely undone he is with Andyr wrapped around him. ]

Maybe. [ Said in a rush, hot against his skin. But he likes the way he says his name, how responsive and open he is, and Steve can't understand why it had taken him so long to get to this point, to chase after someone who might be something and means more than he knows. Steve kisses him as he pushes him down, squeezing the base of his cock and pulling up to the tip in one long, slow motion. ] No. [ And he kisses down his throat, trying to think but stuck on what it is he could do to him instead. ] It's okay.

[ Because he's moving again, letting his free hand push down against Andyr's thighs until they're parted and he can adjust how he's snug against him, thoughts numb as he follows the line of his chest to the spot over his heart. A kiss there, and he doesn't stop, exploring with his mouth what he'd seen with his eyes, feeling the anticipation building and the nervousness so overwhelming by the time he's got his tongue in his navel. Steve doesn't know what he's doing, only thinks about the things he'd heard so long ago in a camp with other men and their exploits, and he's sure he wants to give him something else, something that might be a little better than his hand despite his lack of experience.

If he goes slow, it's just a matter of will, and Steve drags his fingers from Andyr to taste them, to judge for himself before dipping his head and pressing his mouth against the juncture of thigh and torso. His courage is slow to gather, though he's too drunk on the feeling of what it'll be like to watch Andyr come to feel too inhibited by it, and it's a tentative drag of his tongue along the side of his dick before gripping him again and pushing his lips down around him. ]

[deconstruct]

[ all it takes is that 'maybe', and andyr's ready to take control of this again; ease steve back and give him something better than skin on skin, but steve seems to have already committed himself to the concept, as andyr watching him make his way down his body. he isn't sure, at first, if that's what he's going for, and he'd hardly complain if he got lower and abandoned the idea, but all it takes is that first, exploratory like, and andyr's losing what little sense he had left. he's almost mournful of having steve absent from his arms, but watching the man curiously tasting andyr from the hand he'd been stroking him with sends his mind into a mad reel, enough that it's shoved to the side, and andyr's pushing up on an elbow to watch steve carefully push his lips down around him - a sensation that leaves him feeling weak and blissfully distracted from everything in the world that isn't steve fucking rogers.

a hand's settled on his shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze, but ready to pull him back up to his lips the second he seems to find himself in over his head. it's a lot to ask of someone who hasn't done something like this before, and especially someone like steve, who puts so much thought into every little thing he does. but steve doesn't see at all ready to stop, and andyr's a mess of thighs shaking under his hands holding him spread, and low moans and hitched gasps. andyr's fingers push into his hair, and it's an effort to keep his eyes open, and his head from falling back, his body from melting, but he wants to see, wants to watch steve's lips, full and red, around his cock, as he feels his tongue dragging up the underside of him, the insides of his cheeks hugging tight against him. ]

Steve... God, you feel so good. [ andyr gasps out, as the hand in his hair tightens reflexively at a particularly good swipe of his tongue, andyr's eyes squeezing closed, head dropping to lay his cheek against the raised shoulder where he's propped himself up. it's an effort to stay present, but he blinks open again, lips parted and chest heaving with quaking pants, as he drinks in the sight of it. steve rogers, steve fucking rogers, bowed down between his legs, licking and sucking at him like he's something holy, looking at him like he's just wanting to get approval, just to make andyr happy. it fills him with a kind of overwhelming fondness andyr doesn't know what to do with it, other than pet his damp hair back, and smooth his palm along his cheek adoringly, thumb sweeping over a high cheekbone. ] You're freaking gorgeous, you know? S'like a dream.

[ words all languid and slow, but honest. steve's an incredible person, with a beautiful soul most can only hope to strive for - big as he is now, or small as he was when they were younger. andyr couldn't care less which version of him was between his legs now, or arched over him, or kissing him as sweetly as steve's been. for a moment, he thinks of that younger steve, his stiffness and his awkward little smile and the simple, honest look to his eyes. watches steve, and thinks he still sees that boy in him, andyr's lips pulling in a breathless and tired, but blissful, little smile. beautiful, sweet, honest, righteous, stubborn, gorgeous steve.

searching, andyr's hand reaches for steve's, the one not occupied circling the base of his dick, and runs his palm over the back of steve's hand, to thread their fingers together just like that. pulling at him, he drags the warm sweep of his palm up along his stomach and chest, before his fingers curl in completely, holding tight to him through the throes of this. ]