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au inbox; psl now
au; jakob alvida
USERNAME: kboy88
text ❖ audio ❖ video
au; jakob alvida
USERNAME: kboy88
text ❖ audio ❖ video
au; jakob alvida
USERNAME: kboy88
text ❖ audio ❖ video
au; jakob alvida
USERNAME: kboy88
text ❖ audio ❖ video
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the thought is dangerous, risky, and koby shoves it away with an effort, though he doesn’t move away from the hand brushing his hair away. in fact, he tilts into it, surrenders to the smile and letting it reach his eyes, turning his cheeks a deeper pink.] You were a real gentleman the whole time, too.
[I wasn’t expecting that.
quentin’s hand slipping down his arm meets koby’s easily, fingers lacing together, palm to palm, and this time when those big, bright blue eyes skip downwards, it’s deliberate, lingering. well – why not? quentin’s gorgeous, eager, (sweet) and koby’s got nowhere to be for a while. he doesn’t have alvida breathing over his shoulder, telling him to get to work, to focus.
so he reaches out with his free hand, skates the callused fingertips up over the muscled length of quentin’s stomach.] Show me? Show me how?
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the muscle under koby's fingers ripples, shudders and quentin laughs out a breath, tugging at his hand and drawing them flush together. he's never taken his time with people, always jumped into bed and out of bed as fast as he could save for a few - teo, rhae. the few that stuck.
quentin leans down into koby's face and kisses him, deep and slow, taking time to lick hotly into his mouth. his free hand reaches for his backside, drawing their bodies flush, if only so that koby can feel the way that the pink silk has stirred his blood. ]
I thought about interrupting one of your showers last week. [ murmured in against the shell of his ear, mouth moving to his neck. ] Set a different tone, let you have me, I'll have you. I chickened out.
[ he laughs and gives koby a pull dragging him in, toward the bed. ]
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but the thought doesn’t linger, not when the nearly-bare heat of quentin’s body is sealed to his own, an invitation for koby’s hands to trace over the contour of muscles he’d seen soaked and gleaming, before, but hadn’t touched. he strokes his hands down the muscled swimmer’s back, smiles against his mouth as it travels away.] Yeah? Wish you would’ve.
[easy, husky and heated, head tilting to one side to bare the line of his throat as they stumble back towards the bed.] Least you were brave enough this time, though, huh?
[hands lower, lower, finding the silk clinging to quentin’s ass, squeezing. koby pauses close to the bed, steps back, enough to pull his shirt off over his head, toss it over a shoulder.] S’all good. We can make up for lost time, yeah?
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[ but he appreciates the squeeze and it shows almost immediately, a low groan in his throat, another groan when koby pulls away. well, at least until he sees his shirt off. he'd looked, noted the scars and the contours of koby's body in the water. had scrubbed hands through his hair, over his back, feeling the muscles that were clearly hard won.
he sits back on the edge of the bed, legs spread, cock hardened and sticking by one little splotch of wet against the silk. ]
I like the sound of that though - make up for lost time. Hope you don't have any other evening plans unless I'm in them.
[ he reaches for koby again, dragging him forward between his spread thighs, hands spreading up over his stomach, his chest. he leans in to lick over one nipple, laughing against the skin. ] I stole your underwear, though - how do you want me to give them back to you?
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[still standing, koby laughs bright and sharp as quentin’s hands grasp at him, hook in his belt loops, the waist of his calvin kleins that ride up above the loose denim, and he’s popping the button and dragging the zipper down before the sound dies away.] About me coming to get them? That didn’t cause your little situation to get any worse?
[the grin is this side of soft, gentle, tender even, one of koby’s hands reaching out and stroking through the tangled, silky mess of quentin’s hair. it makes something in his chest skip, staccato-quick, at how much smaller he is beneath those roaming, hungry hands, short enough that quentin can sit on the edge of the bed and reach to kiss along the neat, near-invisible scars on koby’s chest. he relaxes more without an audience, with only quentin’s warm hands skimming across his skin, quentin’s voice rumbling against the goosebumps rising up in the wake of his touch.]
Well, I was thinkin’ about taking them off with my teeth, actually. [that grin, the metal stud in koby’s tongue dragging between his parted lips, catching the light and hopefully planting ideas about how good it’d feel to have that tongue dragging up the underside of his dick.] Or maybe have you take them off real nice and slow for me. Gimme a show. [two options, two balancing extremes – koby on his knees or koby calling the shots. letting quentin take control, take the lead, show what kind of guy he is.] What d’you think, Q? Which do you prefer?