i_am_your_host | OOM - upstairs with Sinric

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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.

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Sinric trembles and moans. It's perfect, just the side of rough he needs without being too much. Emcee's weight in him is hot without being threatening.

When Emcee cups his breast he clenches tight, whimpering words of encouragement.

Being of similar size and build, Emcee's weight isn't crushing, and he feels no need to dominate. Only to please and be pleased.

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.

Sinric doesn't want dominance. He wants trust. He wants to feel vulnerable and safe. Exposed and protected. Taken and give.

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.

Emcee groans against the nape of Sinric's neck, his lips curling in a smile.

He tightens his arms around him. Not to restrain, but joyously hugging him as they fuck. Sharing their bodies with one another, somehow already knowing what the other wants. How rough, how soft, how fast or slow.

He reaches as deeply as he can, thrusting and grinding, relishing every little way Sinric's body responds.

Sinric cranes his neck to kiss Emcee, hot and sloppy. He whimpers endearments in Greek and Latin. He arches back, guiding Emcee's thrusts to hit him just so. He's closer to the edge, shuddering and moaning.

He half-growls half-chuckles into the hungry kiss, and presses his cheek to his, panting against his skin with each buck of his hips. There may be no magic lacing Sinric's words, but his voice is just as enchanting without it, every part of him just as desirable.

He also starts to tremble, his thighs straining though he wants to keep going. He'll keep going until he falls apart and brings Sinric with him.

Sinric's pleasure is too sweet, too pure and wild to control his own magic. What magic is in his cries is just as wild.

His body tightens, clenching tight as the wildness in his gut tightens. He can feel the fall coming, powerful and perfect.

Emcee's voice rises with Sinric's, blending perfectly like sweetness and spice, one never overpowering the other.

They're close, so very close.

He presses on, holding onto Sinric, as they both reach the precipice. And here every limb and muscle tightens, every nerve unravels. With a gasp and a cry, Emcee comes in a burst of exhilaration and ecstasy.

Sinric feels it too, feels it flood them both. Pleasure, joy, hope, trust.

Most than just the peak of orgasm, Sinric feels himself flush with magic, golden light washing over both of them. Pure bliss.

The beauty is overwhelming.

Emcee's cry turns into a laugh. It bounces off the domed ceiling like scattered musical notes.

He's never been with anyone who came magic.

Sinric falls against the furs, laughing along with Emcee. Rather than weak and wrung out as he usually feels after a release this powerful, he feels strong, warm. Bright.

He reaches back to stroke Emcee's thigh. "Thank you."

Emcee feels much the same way, invigorated by the release and satisfied in a way he's never felt before.

"Thank you," he chuckles breathlessly against his neck. "That was marvelous. Truly marvelous."

He winds his arms around him in an embrace and kisses his shoulder.

Sinric covers Emcee's arms with his own and hugs in return. "It was. I don't think I knew how much I needed that until I begged for it."

He turns his head to smile at Emcee. "However I am now famished!"

"And I was only too happy to give it to you, darling," he sighs happily.

And then he laughs again, as Sinric's comment is true for the both of them.

"As am I!"

Giving his hip a soothing stroke, he carefully withdraws from him. He then leans in to kiss him on the lips, as if to seal this perfect moment of pleasure.

"Shall we freshen up a little first?"

Sinric lets out a soft sigh as Emcee kisses him, like the exhale that lets a note fade or releases a spell. It sends a wave of warmth through them both as they part.

He nods and bounces to his feet, lithe and energetic. "I feel... wonderful." His smiles says it all as he leads Emcee back to the bathroom.

"And you look it as well," Emcee chuckles brightly, finding Sinric's energy infectious, and he follows in his wake.

Sinric smiles over his shoulder, fetching a pair of cloths and soaking them in warm water and sweet oils to wash themselves.

Or each other. Which looks like more fun.

Washing each other definitely looks like more fun.

Emcee takes one of the cloths, wrings it out in the basin, and swipes it down the center of Sinric's chest, all the way down his belly.

Sinric makes the most of every touch, smiling warmly and tracing shapes over Emcee's skin with the cloth. And stealing kisses.

Emcee does the same, sometimes unconsciously almost mirroring Sinric's paths and patterns on Sinric's own body. He smiles at the kisses, replying to them with touches and sweeps of his fingertips over sensitive parts.

All the while washing up. Because that is what they are doing. Yes.

Sinric laughs warmly, refreshing the cloth to keep washing Emcee, spinning him around to wash his back too.

He squeezes more water over his shoulders as Sinric washes his back, before he turns and has Sinric turn around as well. Soaking the cloth, he gathers Sinric's hair out of the way and gently scrubs him down to the backs of his thighs.

Sinric purrs and spreads his legs wider, offering his body up under Emcee's touch. "This I miss most. Just this. Just... touching with my brothers."

"I know," he murmurs sympathetically, though he has never known that kind of closeness.

Running the cloth over Sinric's hip, he winds his arms around his waist and kisses the back of his head.

Sinric sighs warmly, reaching back to run a hand through Emcee's hair. "I'm glad we can share this."

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