Hands Open
Jan. 17th, 2016 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_am_tl_drTitle: Hands Open
Characters: Quentin Kinley and Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1675
Notes: The day after Ready to Go. Once is not enough.
Timeline: August 5, 2013
They were sitting on the couch watching the Daily Show, splitting a bag of chips and a six-pack, and over the course of half an hour they went from opposite ends of the couch to leaning against each other comfortably. When the show ended, Tyler Jordan turned to look at Quentin with his lower lip caught between his teeth. "Can I..." He hesitated, gaze catching on Quentin's mouth. Quentin's lips quirked upward.
"Can you what? Use your words."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't have to ask before you do it, you know. You can just do it."
"Well, now that you've given me permission I can," Tyler Jordan said. "You mean it? Like any time I want?"
"Not in public or anything. But here, just us? Yeah, absolutely. Please do." He barely got the words out before Tyler Jordan swept his hair back from his face with both hands and leaned in to catch Quentin's mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. Quentin let out a quiet sigh and kissed him back, pulled away just long enough to take Tyler Jordan's glasses off his face and set them aside, then kissed him again, a little harder this time.
It took no time at all for Tyler Jordan to start pressing Quentin back into the couch with enthusiastic but artless kisses, and he carded his fingers through Quentin's hair as they toppled over to lie together on the couch. "I, um... can I do more than kiss you?" he murmured against Quentin's mouth, and Quentin huffed a laugh.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Shit, I don't really know. I just wanna touch you."
"That's pretty open-ended."
"You need me to be more specific? Fine. Quentin, would you mind terribly if we got each other off again? Cause once was fucking awesome but I'd like to do it again. And again, and again."
"You wanna do this on the regular?" Quentin sounded surprised. "Like... make it a thing?"
"Yeah. Why not? It's fun and we like each other and, I mean, we're on this couch together practically every day already, I think we can fit a couple of orgasms into our busy schedule of getting wasted and playing video games and watching Netflix." Tyler Jordan gave Quentin a hopeful smile. "Right? It doesn't have to be a big deal or anything."
"Oh, you don't need to convince me, man. Yeah. If you wanna, I'm up for it. Hell yes."
"Stellar," Tyler Jordan said, and he ran a hand down Quentin's side and grabbed his ass playfully. "Got any requests? Or are we basically fumbling toward ecstasy here?"
"You have some secret tricks up your sleeve or something?"
"Does ten years of jerking off count as a secret? Cause that's the extent of my experience and I don't know how well it'll translate to someone else's dick." Quentin snorted a laugh and slid his hands under Tyler Jordan's shirt and up his back, tugging at the cloth until Tyler Jordan pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it.
"Well, that's about as much as I've got too, as far as dicks are concerned. I think between us we can make it work." Quentin's hands trailed down until he slipped them under the waist of Tyler Jordan's shorts and groped him. "Aren't handjobs like intro level? I think we skipped a lesson yesterday."
"No no no. Yesterday was ideal. That was exactly the right way to start my sex life. I'm gonna remember that blowjob until the day I die."
"Oh, I'm not complaining at all. Just saying..." Tyler Jordan cupped his hand around Quentin's cock through his pajama pants, and Quentin forgot what he'd been saying when Tyler Jordan kissed him again. Quentin's hands slid to Tyler Jordan's hips and then one hand wrapped around him while the other tugged his shorts out of the way.
"Shit, you have cold hands," Tyler Jordan gasped. "How are your hands so cold in August?"
"Magic," Quentin said. "Or poor circulation. One of those. They're not that cold, are they?"
"They're not so cold that I want you to stop..." Tyler Jordan leaned in for another kiss as he reached under the fabric of Quentin's clothes to get a firm grip on him, and they both sighed into each other's mouths at each other's touch.
"You're not cold at all," Quentin breathed, and his hips twitched up into Tyler Jordan's caress. "You're so warm."
"I'm hot-blooded," Tyler Jordan said. "Literally, not so much figuratively."
"I dunno, you seem pretty passionate to me." Quentin lifted his hips to let Tyler Jordan drag his pajama pants down, then kicked them all the way off. "Can I--"
"Yes," Tyler Jordan said, not even waiting to hear what Quentin wanted. "Go for it."
"You're trusting, too." Tyler Jordan nodded, and he grinned when Quentin pushed him onto his back and straddled his lap, cocks jostling together until Tyler Jordan took them both in one hand.
"Why shouldn't I trust you? Trusting you worked out pretty well for me yesterday." He gave them both a squeeze and Quentin shivered and dug a hand into Tyler Jordan's hair, leaning down and kissing him hungrily. When Tyler Jordan started to stroke them together, Quentin gasped into his mouth and Tyler Jordan breathed a laugh. "Fuck, Q, this feels pretty great. You're, mm..." He got distracted with another kiss, then finished breathlessly, "You're a really good kisser."
"Yeah? You don't have much to compare to," Quentin pointed out, and Tyler Jordan shrugged and kissed him back, soft little teasing kisses until Quentin tugged his hair and took his mouth like he needed to be conquered, swallowing Tyler Jordan's pleased whimper. He reached down between them to help, tangling his fingers with Tyler Jordan's as they both stroked. Tyler Jordan's hips rose, pushing into their paired hands and unsettling Quentin's perch on his lap slightly, making Quentin press forward and pin him against the couch as their hips ground together.
"Shit, I can't-- this is gonna be over pretty quick," Tyler Jordan gasped, and Quentin hummed and kissed him again, dragging his thumb over the tip of Tyler Jordan's cock and tracing around the crown, trying and succeeding in making Tyler Jordan lose it. "Oh, oh-- ohhh..." Quentin stifled his grin against Tyler Jordan's neck as those soft cries melted into ragged breaths and shivers underneath him. "Oh god. Wow. Come here, let me--" Tyler Jordan pressed his face into Quentin's hair as he shifted his now-messy grip to get a better grasp on Quentin, hand sliding a little easier around his length.
“Little tighter? Yeah, like that. Oh man, that’s-- yeah, that’s so good.” Quentin lifted his head enough to seek out another kiss, shutting himself up with Tyler Jordan’s lips, but his little gasps and sounds of pleasure couldn’t be stifled. Tyler Jordan’s free hand stroked down Quentin’s back and grabbed a handful of his ass, and Quentin yelped at the unexpected tease of his fingertips, freezing for a second before he came between them with a shudder and a sigh. He practically melted on top of Tyler Jordan, and they nuzzled each other lazily while they caught their breath and pulled themselves back together.
“I definitely wanna do this on the regular,” Tyler Jordan murmured, and Quentin laughed.
“Yeah. For sure. Any time you want, I’m all about it.”
“Brilliant. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Honest to god, you wanna touch me, go right for it. I’m probably not gonna say no.”
“I’m pretty touchy.”
“I noticed,” Quentin said dryly. “It’s weird, but I like it.”
“You really don’t mind?”
“Do you need an engraved invitation? Like an official announcement or something? Tyler Jordan, you’re formally invited to keep getting into my personal space. Especially if we’re both getting orgasms out of it.”
“Sweet. I’m gonna be taking advantage of that invitation a lot.” Tyler Jordan gave Quentin a playful squeeze, then sat up slightly, laughing. “It’s messy though.”
“Sex? Yeah. It is if you’re doing it right.”
“I don’t think we did anything wrong yesterday…”
“Hey, if you’re secretly fastidious and that means more blowjobs, you’re not gonna hear me complaining.”
“Fastidious? No. But more blowjobs, yeah, absolutely that. That was awesome. This was pretty awesome. I have a feeling that anything that involves you touching my dick is gonna be awesome.”
“I’m strongly in favor of testing that theory.” Quentin got off the couch, looking all kinds of tousled, and he paused right before he went into the bathroom. “What time do you have to wake up tomorrow?”
“Like seven… why?”
“Do you maybe wanna come sleep in my room?” Tyler Jordan lit up.
“Are you a cuddler, really?”
“Come find out,” Quentin said, grinning. “After you wash your hands.” When he came back out of the bathroom, Tyler Jordan was standing there in clean shorts and followed Quentin into his bedroom eagerly.
“Your bed is crazy,” Tyler Jordan said, “how many pillows do you have?”
“I dunno, seven or eight?”
“Apparently you have a secret cozy side.”
“I like to be comfortable,” Quentin said, and he patted the bed next to him. “C’mon. More than enough room for you.” Tyler Jordan hit the light and lay down, humming happily when Quentin immediately wrapped around him from behind. “Good night,” he murmured against the back of Tyler Jordan’s neck.
“Mmhm. Night.”
Quentin wasn’t a cuddler, not really. He hardly ever let anyone in his bed, and even less often let anyone stay the night. But Tyler Jordan was warm and smelled good and Quentin couldn’t understand why he was so comfortable with Tyler Jordan in his arms. He usually slept wrapped around a pillow and it was startling to realize how soothing the soft sound of Tyler Jordan’s steady breath and the rise and fall of his chest under Quentin’s hand actually turned out to be… or it would have been startling if it hadn’t lulled him to sleep so quickly.
Characters: Quentin Kinley and Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1675
Notes: The day after Ready to Go. Once is not enough.
Timeline: August 5, 2013
They were sitting on the couch watching the Daily Show, splitting a bag of chips and a six-pack, and over the course of half an hour they went from opposite ends of the couch to leaning against each other comfortably. When the show ended, Tyler Jordan turned to look at Quentin with his lower lip caught between his teeth. "Can I..." He hesitated, gaze catching on Quentin's mouth. Quentin's lips quirked upward.
"Can you what? Use your words."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't have to ask before you do it, you know. You can just do it."
"Well, now that you've given me permission I can," Tyler Jordan said. "You mean it? Like any time I want?"
"Not in public or anything. But here, just us? Yeah, absolutely. Please do." He barely got the words out before Tyler Jordan swept his hair back from his face with both hands and leaned in to catch Quentin's mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. Quentin let out a quiet sigh and kissed him back, pulled away just long enough to take Tyler Jordan's glasses off his face and set them aside, then kissed him again, a little harder this time.
It took no time at all for Tyler Jordan to start pressing Quentin back into the couch with enthusiastic but artless kisses, and he carded his fingers through Quentin's hair as they toppled over to lie together on the couch. "I, um... can I do more than kiss you?" he murmured against Quentin's mouth, and Quentin huffed a laugh.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Shit, I don't really know. I just wanna touch you."
"That's pretty open-ended."
"You need me to be more specific? Fine. Quentin, would you mind terribly if we got each other off again? Cause once was fucking awesome but I'd like to do it again. And again, and again."
"You wanna do this on the regular?" Quentin sounded surprised. "Like... make it a thing?"
"Yeah. Why not? It's fun and we like each other and, I mean, we're on this couch together practically every day already, I think we can fit a couple of orgasms into our busy schedule of getting wasted and playing video games and watching Netflix." Tyler Jordan gave Quentin a hopeful smile. "Right? It doesn't have to be a big deal or anything."
"Oh, you don't need to convince me, man. Yeah. If you wanna, I'm up for it. Hell yes."
"Stellar," Tyler Jordan said, and he ran a hand down Quentin's side and grabbed his ass playfully. "Got any requests? Or are we basically fumbling toward ecstasy here?"
"You have some secret tricks up your sleeve or something?"
"Does ten years of jerking off count as a secret? Cause that's the extent of my experience and I don't know how well it'll translate to someone else's dick." Quentin snorted a laugh and slid his hands under Tyler Jordan's shirt and up his back, tugging at the cloth until Tyler Jordan pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it.
"Well, that's about as much as I've got too, as far as dicks are concerned. I think between us we can make it work." Quentin's hands trailed down until he slipped them under the waist of Tyler Jordan's shorts and groped him. "Aren't handjobs like intro level? I think we skipped a lesson yesterday."
"No no no. Yesterday was ideal. That was exactly the right way to start my sex life. I'm gonna remember that blowjob until the day I die."
"Oh, I'm not complaining at all. Just saying..." Tyler Jordan cupped his hand around Quentin's cock through his pajama pants, and Quentin forgot what he'd been saying when Tyler Jordan kissed him again. Quentin's hands slid to Tyler Jordan's hips and then one hand wrapped around him while the other tugged his shorts out of the way.
"Shit, you have cold hands," Tyler Jordan gasped. "How are your hands so cold in August?"
"Magic," Quentin said. "Or poor circulation. One of those. They're not that cold, are they?"
"They're not so cold that I want you to stop..." Tyler Jordan leaned in for another kiss as he reached under the fabric of Quentin's clothes to get a firm grip on him, and they both sighed into each other's mouths at each other's touch.
"You're not cold at all," Quentin breathed, and his hips twitched up into Tyler Jordan's caress. "You're so warm."
"I'm hot-blooded," Tyler Jordan said. "Literally, not so much figuratively."
"I dunno, you seem pretty passionate to me." Quentin lifted his hips to let Tyler Jordan drag his pajama pants down, then kicked them all the way off. "Can I--"
"Yes," Tyler Jordan said, not even waiting to hear what Quentin wanted. "Go for it."
"You're trusting, too." Tyler Jordan nodded, and he grinned when Quentin pushed him onto his back and straddled his lap, cocks jostling together until Tyler Jordan took them both in one hand.
"Why shouldn't I trust you? Trusting you worked out pretty well for me yesterday." He gave them both a squeeze and Quentin shivered and dug a hand into Tyler Jordan's hair, leaning down and kissing him hungrily. When Tyler Jordan started to stroke them together, Quentin gasped into his mouth and Tyler Jordan breathed a laugh. "Fuck, Q, this feels pretty great. You're, mm..." He got distracted with another kiss, then finished breathlessly, "You're a really good kisser."
"Yeah? You don't have much to compare to," Quentin pointed out, and Tyler Jordan shrugged and kissed him back, soft little teasing kisses until Quentin tugged his hair and took his mouth like he needed to be conquered, swallowing Tyler Jordan's pleased whimper. He reached down between them to help, tangling his fingers with Tyler Jordan's as they both stroked. Tyler Jordan's hips rose, pushing into their paired hands and unsettling Quentin's perch on his lap slightly, making Quentin press forward and pin him against the couch as their hips ground together.
"Shit, I can't-- this is gonna be over pretty quick," Tyler Jordan gasped, and Quentin hummed and kissed him again, dragging his thumb over the tip of Tyler Jordan's cock and tracing around the crown, trying and succeeding in making Tyler Jordan lose it. "Oh, oh-- ohhh..." Quentin stifled his grin against Tyler Jordan's neck as those soft cries melted into ragged breaths and shivers underneath him. "Oh god. Wow. Come here, let me--" Tyler Jordan pressed his face into Quentin's hair as he shifted his now-messy grip to get a better grasp on Quentin, hand sliding a little easier around his length.
“Little tighter? Yeah, like that. Oh man, that’s-- yeah, that’s so good.” Quentin lifted his head enough to seek out another kiss, shutting himself up with Tyler Jordan’s lips, but his little gasps and sounds of pleasure couldn’t be stifled. Tyler Jordan’s free hand stroked down Quentin’s back and grabbed a handful of his ass, and Quentin yelped at the unexpected tease of his fingertips, freezing for a second before he came between them with a shudder and a sigh. He practically melted on top of Tyler Jordan, and they nuzzled each other lazily while they caught their breath and pulled themselves back together.
“I definitely wanna do this on the regular,” Tyler Jordan murmured, and Quentin laughed.
“Yeah. For sure. Any time you want, I’m all about it.”
“Brilliant. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Honest to god, you wanna touch me, go right for it. I’m probably not gonna say no.”
“I’m pretty touchy.”
“I noticed,” Quentin said dryly. “It’s weird, but I like it.”
“You really don’t mind?”
“Do you need an engraved invitation? Like an official announcement or something? Tyler Jordan, you’re formally invited to keep getting into my personal space. Especially if we’re both getting orgasms out of it.”
“Sweet. I’m gonna be taking advantage of that invitation a lot.” Tyler Jordan gave Quentin a playful squeeze, then sat up slightly, laughing. “It’s messy though.”
“Sex? Yeah. It is if you’re doing it right.”
“I don’t think we did anything wrong yesterday…”
“Hey, if you’re secretly fastidious and that means more blowjobs, you’re not gonna hear me complaining.”
“Fastidious? No. But more blowjobs, yeah, absolutely that. That was awesome. This was pretty awesome. I have a feeling that anything that involves you touching my dick is gonna be awesome.”
“I’m strongly in favor of testing that theory.” Quentin got off the couch, looking all kinds of tousled, and he paused right before he went into the bathroom. “What time do you have to wake up tomorrow?”
“Like seven… why?”
“Do you maybe wanna come sleep in my room?” Tyler Jordan lit up.
“Are you a cuddler, really?”
“Come find out,” Quentin said, grinning. “After you wash your hands.” When he came back out of the bathroom, Tyler Jordan was standing there in clean shorts and followed Quentin into his bedroom eagerly.
“Your bed is crazy,” Tyler Jordan said, “how many pillows do you have?”
“I dunno, seven or eight?”
“Apparently you have a secret cozy side.”
“I like to be comfortable,” Quentin said, and he patted the bed next to him. “C’mon. More than enough room for you.” Tyler Jordan hit the light and lay down, humming happily when Quentin immediately wrapped around him from behind. “Good night,” he murmured against the back of Tyler Jordan’s neck.
“Mmhm. Night.”
Quentin wasn’t a cuddler, not really. He hardly ever let anyone in his bed, and even less often let anyone stay the night. But Tyler Jordan was warm and smelled good and Quentin couldn’t understand why he was so comfortable with Tyler Jordan in his arms. He usually slept wrapped around a pillow and it was startling to realize how soothing the soft sound of Tyler Jordan’s steady breath and the rise and fall of his chest under Quentin’s hand actually turned out to be… or it would have been startling if it hadn’t lulled him to sleep so quickly.
