The Master of Ceremonies (
i_am_your_host) wrote2016-12-27 02:18 am
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OOM - upstairs with Sinric
During Emcee's recovery in his room, he became a recluse. He couldn't find the motivation to go downstairs (too tired, too lazy, too sad, too unsure of himself), so he would ask George to see if any of his friends were around. To talk, and perhaps to let the talking lead to other things. Jay, Sinric...even Eric.
At least, he thought, he might be ready to take up his other old habits.
(He wasn't certain if he could feel Eric's presence. It might have just been wishful thinking. Or not.)
As it happens, Sinric is in the bar when George goes on this particular errand. He floats up to the long-haired blond and chirps out the sounds Emm See! at him, and moves backward toward the stairs as a gesture to follow.
At least, he thought, he might be ready to take up his other old habits.
(He wasn't certain if he could feel Eric's presence. It might have just been wishful thinking. Or not.)
As it happens, Sinric is in the bar when George goes on this particular errand. He floats up to the long-haired blond and chirps out the sounds Emm See! at him, and moves backward toward the stairs as a gesture to follow.
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The comment makes him laughs and he hugs Emcee tight. "Breakfast sounds wonderful. Shall we go down or have some food brought up?"
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"Mmm, let's have it brought up and be absolutely decadent about it. You order what you like to eat, I'll order what I like to eat, and we can share."
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"I wouldn't want to pass up the chance to feed you my breakfast sausage," he quips with a playful purr.
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"Mmm, I cannot wait to find out how that will taste," he murmurs, before planting a warm, lingering kiss to the pit of his throat.
"Right. I ought to get out of bed and fetch a rat before I eat you."
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"Yes, well, it would be the most logical thing to do, seeing as how hungry we both are," he says, scraping his teeth lightly over his skin while slowly moving his hips in return.
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He's growing hard and is making sure Sinric feels it.
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"You never have to beg with me, darling," he murmurs with a moan, "unless you want to, of course..."
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He slowly lowers himself to lay on top of him. He's not heavy, but he rests most of his weight on his elbows as he sweeps Sinric's long hair aside. He kisses the back of his neck, his shoulder. His lips grazing the scars.
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"I like the oils you use," he murmurs near his ear. "Do you have any at hand?"
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"I can give you what you want," he murmurs in a low tone that heavily implies that he'll enjoy doing it, too.
He rears back on his knees to slick himself up just enough with a few drops of the oil. He then touches Sinric along the insides of his thighs, kneading them, spreading them wide.
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He lines himself up with Sinric, and with a slow thrust, he pushes the head of his cock into him and holds it there, grasping his hips so he doesn't push back. He savors this sensation for a moment, wanting to hear him plead for more.
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He sinks his cock into him in one smooth push of his hips, a hissing moan escaping through his teeth.
And then he lies down on top of him again, his knees keeping Sinric's legs apart as he thrusts over and over. His breath is hot on the back of his neck as one hand slips under his body to cup one of his breasts.
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When Emcee cups his breast he clenches tight, whimpering words of encouragement.
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He buries his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, giving him wet, open-mouthed kisses. With one hand gently squeezing and kneading his breast, the other hand slips down to stroke him between his legs.
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And Emcee gives him that.
His moans and cries sing under the domed roof. He thrusts into Emcee's hand, and back into Emcee's thrusts.
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