A shudder runs up his spine at the warm, moist brush of breath over the delicate skin of his wrist, and he sucks in a ragged, gasping breath, struggling for silence when it's followed by a dry press of lips. His hand spasms when Jedao turns it over, strong fingers curling tight around the older man's as he steps in closer.
"I'm always going to have to lie to everyone," he points out, voice a warm, heavy rasp. He's bigger than Jedao, taller and broader, though still lacking an inch or two that'll probably come in a last, late growth spurt, frame heavy with an athlete's muscle, jaw showing a dark patchwork of stubble. It would be easy to take him for early to mid twenties, and even so he's well past legal and he knows exactly what he wants as he lifts his free hand and rests his fingertips just above the perfectly pressed collar of Jedao's dress uniform. Lets his thumb stretch up enough to brush at the sharp line of his jaw. "I didn't figure it would ever get any easier."
"It actually gets harder," he murmurs, which is both true and entirely intentional phrasing, if the slow smirk that follows the words is anything to go by. But his eyes flutter closed for a moment, as he tilts his cheek into Fives' touch, and his tone turns strange, both distant and gentle. "But you get better at it. Just like you get stronger under your gear."
He doesn't want to talk, anymore. He turns his head, closes his teeth on the second segment of Fives' thumb in a motion so small and quick it would be impossible to avoid. He closes his lips half a heartbeat after, strokes his tongue against he sensitive pad of his fingertip, tastes clean skin and hints of the celebratory canapés from earlier in the evening. Slowly, never breaking Fives' gaze, he drags his mouth off, teeth scraping deliberately the entire way, like his mouth is reluctant to let go.
"I'm not sure that's possible," he answers, and for his part it's honest in any number of ways. But mostly in the way he mirrors Jedao's smirk, because he's nineteen years old and all it takes to get him hard sometimes is an unexpected breeze or a particularly rakish lampshade. A beautiful man in a perfectly pressed uniform putting his mouth on him? It's a wonder he can still think anything like clearly for the blood loss to his brain, and he's been struggling with the urge to adjust himself since long before Jedao touched him.
He was going to say something more, to answer the second part of Jedao's statement, but then there are teeth and lips closing almost delicately over the joint of his thumb and he has to lock his knees and bite back on another moan. He can't help but press the pad of his thumb down on Jedao's tongue, can't help but think of those lips closing around his cock instead, and his eyes slip shut as Jedao pulls back, teeth scraping along his skin, breath shuddering out on a strained gasp.
He probably isn't thinking clearly anymore, because the second Jedao releases his thumb he's pushing forward, hand sliding back to curl at the nape of the older man's neck. There's no awkwardness or hesitation about it, Jedao's made it clear he wants this too, and Fives presses him back against the kitchen counter with his bulk and grinds against him at the same time that he ducks his head to kiss him.
He gasps into Fives' mouth, less surprised by Fives finally cracking than he is by his body's own reaction. He'd known what he was doing, of course, knew he wanted Fives, knew he'd nearly walked into a door the first time he saw those fucking shoulders instead of the grass-stained gawky puppy he'd been imagining from Shiro's fondly recounted misadventures.
But he'd forgotten what it actually feels like, to have another body shoved against his in artless desire, the sheer heat of it, the crackling intensity in his stomach, in his cock, in the base of his spine. So much of himself was simply shut down, during his captivity, too inessential to keep. There's no drifting, now, no standing two feet to the left of his own useless limbs. He's pinned between the rigid line of the counter against his back and the press of Fives' body, broad and gorgeous, the eager pressure of Fives' hard-on against him, the size of his hands on Jedao's skin.
He feels electric, he feels alive, and he kisses back fierce and hungry, one elbow half-braced on the counter behind him and his other hand gripping Fives' hip tight through his clothes as Jedao grinds back.
Fives is almost shocked by the intensity of it, by how fiercely Jedao responds, and it almost requires more focus than he can muster to stay quiet as he licks eagerly into Jedao's mouth, presses against the hard heat of his body. He's been jerking off to fantasies about that mouth, those hands, since he figured out what his dick was for, since long before he admitted to himself what it was he really wanted, and never with any expectation that he'd find himself in this position.
He slides the hand at Jedao's nape up, mussing that perfect hair, feeling the slide of it between his fingers at the same time that he tugs urgently at Jedao's jacket with the other. Buttons are too much work right now, he just needs his hand up under it, so he can pull the neatly starched shirt beneath it free of Jedao's trousers and get his hand on skin.
He sucks in a sharp breath, bites Fives' lip only slightly harder than he means to, then shudders and opens for him again, quick flickers of his tongue against Fives' tongue. The skin under Fives' touch trembles with Jedao's quiet gasps, taut and dusted lightly with the occasional scar.
Fives gasps and shudders at the sharp press of Jedao's teeth, fingers spasming for a moment and hips jerking. And then Jedao's opening for him again, and he can hardly think for the slick heat of his mouth, the way Jedao's tongue strokes against his. His breathing is ragged and he's so hard he aches, and Fives has to muffle a moan in Jedao's mouth as he manages to shove his hand down the back of the older man's pants and use the grip to pull him even closer as he grinds against the hard line of his cock.
If the idea of losing all this contact, the rasp of stubble and the taste of Jedao's mouth and the feel of him pressed hard against him, weren't almost unbearable he'd already be on his knees. Pulling Jedao's trousers open and getting his mouth on him, swallowing him down while he stifled his noises. "Jesus, I want to fuck you," he rasps instead, the words slipping out in a whisper against Jedao's lips.
Jedao jerks when he hears that, bucks hard between Fives' hand and his hips, with no space to move but shoving and straining against Fives' body all the same. He wants, he wants so badly, it's been so long and he wants to get fucked, pressed open and pulled apart and touched that deeply by another person, he wants to feel it for days and know he's not a ghost. He turns his face out of the kiss, bites sharply along Fives' jawline, one-two-three bites to his ear, where Jedao nuzzles a little, rolls his hips more slowly this time.
"You're young enough to go twice, aren't you?" he murmurs, soft and low, languid as if he's already sure, as if he definitely wouldn't be shaking without the counter to hold him up. "Because I want you to fuck me hard, and long, and from the way you feel right now -" The hand holding onto Fives' hip wriggles between them, cups Fives through his pants, squeezes a little too hard for comfort, "I think that means I have to suck you off first."
He's smirking by the end, his voice glinting with it, the curl of his smile dragging up against Fives' cheek.
He's not sure what reaction he'd expected when he let those words slip out, unguarded, but nothing as nearly perfect as this, and he has to bite back another moan, though this time it's Jedao's lips he bites at to assure his silence. For barely a moment, though, and then Jedao's turning away, and Fives twitches and shudders at the perfect press of teeth along his jaw, the quick-sharp sting of barely there pain that fades before the next bite, combines with the slow roll of Jedao's hips to set his nerves singing.
"Fuck, jesus, yes," he gasps, and it's his turn to jerk, every muscle going taut for a moment at the thought of it. "Three times... if you give me a bit of a rest," he promises, and he's trying for slyly seductive, but it's more eager puppy as he jerks into Jedao's hand, whimpers at the pleasure-pain of his grip.
Who allowed you to be cute and hot, Jedao thinks, nipping at Fives' earlobe while he's there, either to register his complaint or as a reward for Fives' eagerness. One of the two.
Then he lets go, his hand sliding up and spread flat to push against Fives' chest. "Living room, I'm not kneeling in here," he says briskly, because the kitchen is all beautiful herringbone tile, fancy as hell and easy to clean, but murder on the knees, even if he hadn't spent far too much of the last year kneeling in places he would have really rather not.
Fives would swear to god in that moment that there's a direct line between his earlobe and his cock, and his hand spasms against the bare skin of Jedao's ass as he jerks against him again. Jedao's definitely right about needing to take the edge off if he's going to last, and he has to struggle not to fucking whine as Jedao lets go of him and slides his hand up instead.
"Yes, sir," he manages to tease at the order--just barely, jesus he's going to end up with a wet spot on his best slacks at this rate--but instead of pulling away he presses in closer. Reluctantly slides his hand out of the back of Jedao's trousers and down his thigh instead, urging him up while his other arm snakes around the back of his shoulders to brace him. Because there's no way he wants to give up this contact, or risk giving Jedao--older, experienced, sophisticated--a chance to change his mind.
The idea of being carried hadn't even crossed his mind. He didn't even let them carry him out of his cell, though it probably would have been faster - the idea feels alluring and a little scary at the same time, seductive in a more ambiguous way. He can't - he can't be weak, not after everything, not here.
But god, it's so tempting, Fives' strength already behind his shoulders, young and strong and sure, and the wide hand lifting his thigh feels irresistible; Jedao's skin already misses it. He hitches his leg up, acquiescing, feels his breath hitch at the same time. He leans in to hide any other reactions, his arms going over Fives' shoulders, one hand gripping tight across the back of his neck, less to support his weight than to prove he can do something other than melt in the kid's arms.
The idea that Jedao might not want it hadn't even crossed Fives' mind. He's had precious little experience in a world where he has to be painfully cautious and discreet at all times, but one of the common threads among the few partners he's had is that they liked that he was big, and strong, and could manhandle them. It doesn't even occur to him that Jedao isn't interested in him for exactly the same reason, doesn't want exactly the same thing, and he hums under his breath in satisfaction as Jedao wraps an arm around his neck and lets himself be lifted.
Jedao isn't a small man, but he's wiry rather than bulky and his weight's no strain for Fives to take. The solid press of him, though, and the way Fives can feel the hard line of his cock against his belly, the way his own rests against Jedao's ass as he shifts him and starts to move- It almost short circuits his damn brain, and he has to take a moment to let himself mouth along Jedao's jaw, nip at the ridge of tendon at the side of his neck, tasting him and breathing him in and reminding himself this is real before he finally starts to move.
It's a quick trip after that, though, as Fives maneuvers through the kitchen and into the living room with long, purposeful strides... and fortunately he has plenty of practice in making his way through this house tipsy or distracted in the dark, because he's entirely too focused on the man in his arms to pay more than cursory attention to where he's going.
Jedao likes it; he just isn't sure if he should, if he can afford to let himself have it. But it feels so good, trusting Fives to hold him, to take him where they're going. And if that could tip over far too easily into too much, the hot insistent press of Fives' cock saves it, makes him feel dirty instead of delicate, dirty in the best way.
"Green couch," he says as they get there, because the curtains were drawn hours ago but Jedao has had years to think about the sightlines and acoustics and options in this room.
Fives changes direction as ordered without question, and when they reach Jedao's chosen destination he props a knee up on the couch so he can lean down and press Jedao into the cushions beneath him. It's hard to remember why they'd even left the kitchen, when it's so damn perfect to just lay himself out over Jedao and grind against him, even if it is through too many layers of clothing.
It's a pretty nice way to be pinned down, covered over - comfortable and almost safe-feeling - but Jedao has a plan now, and he really wants it to happen. He wriggles and shoves again at Fives' shoulder, trying to find the leverage to roll them around so that Jedao is straddling Fives' lap, but he can't really do it without Fives' cooperation.
He bites at Fives' jaw again, then hooks a finger in his shirt collar, tugs it down enough that he can lick a broad messy stripe over Fives' pulse.
"If I can't get my mouth on your cock in the next twenty seconds," he hisses, panting very slightly, his tone lecherous and a little threatening at once, "I am going to be gravely disappointed, flip us over."
He's nineteen, he's wound up like a cheap watch, and he's living out a fantasy he's nursed in one way or another since he was twelve years old- Fives barely even notices Jedao's attempts to roll them, he's way too intent on the feel of him laid out beneath him, hard and hot and solid, and the taste of his skin as he mouths--possibly a bit too enthusiastically--at Jedao's neck.
There's no way he could miss that voice, though, and he goes absolutely still for a fraction of a second, breath escaping on a low, barely audible moan. "Oh fuck please," he just about chokes out as he shudders back into motion, jerky and a little uncoordinated in his almost frantic rush to lever them over. The end result, though, is what Jedao demanded, and Fives looks up at him, slack-jawed and panting, big hands wrapped tight at his hips as he arches up into the fucking perfect heat and weight of him.
Jedao smiles, sweet and sharp, rocks in Fives' lap for a moment, teasing and testing his own balance. He braces one hand against the side of Fives' face, his thumb pressing between his lips and pushing Fives' mouth farther open. At the same time, he brings his other wrist up to his own mouth, eyes locked on Fives', and strips off one white glove with his teeth.
He drops it back into his now-bare hand and presses it against Fives' open mouth to muffle his noises as Jedao pushes himself off the couch and folds smoothly down, kneeling between Fives' legs as he makes rapid work of Fives' belt, getting his pants open and drawing his dick out with deft urgency.
For a second he just lets himself look, his bare hand stroking idly, lets Fives see him looking, breath heavy, mouth watering.
Fives gasps, open-mouthed, as Jedao rocks down against his cock, heat shivering along his nerves, want pulling tight at the base of his spine. He can't do anything but open obediently for that white-gloved thumb, then close his lips hungrily around it as he watches Jedao strip his other glove off.
Christ, just the sight of his bare hand shouldn't be that provocative, but Fives moans around Jedao's thumb, his grip at Jedao's hips tightening as his own jerk up. He hasn't even started to catch his breath when Jedao slides gracefully to the floor between his knees, and the sight of that guarantees there's no way in hell he's going to any time soon. He presses one of his own hands to his mouth, holding the glove in place, muffling a ragged groan as he watches Jedao open his pants, arches helplessly up into his grip as he pulls his cock free.
He feels like he could come just from this: that too-light touch combined with the way Jedao's looking at him, like he's never wanted to get his mouth on something more.
Fives' cock is just as beautiful as the rest of him, flushed dark with blood, almost purple, curved almost up to his belly with eagerness so that Jedao has to tug it down a little just to get comfortably positioned. It feels even bigger in his hand than it did when they were rubbing against each other, and the smell from this close, salty and musky and unmistakable, makes him feel drunk in a way that the whiskey couldn't touch.
"Fuckin' gorgeous," he murmurs, sliding his eyes back up to Fives' face, shameless and hungry. "You can pull my hair, but try not to thrust too far," he instructs, because it's been a while - too long - and he doesn't want to gag before he gets re-adjusted to the task. Jedao gets both hands on him, his bare hand at the base of Fives' cock and his gloved hand over the middle of the shaft, and just goes to town, wraps his mouth around the head, no messing around, no more teasing. His eyes flutter closed and he groans a little at the taste, sucks, savors, swirls his tongue to get more of it.
Fives is nothing even close to a virgin, but what experience he's had hasn't been anything like this--frantic and furtive, in pitch black rooms or cramped (literal) closets. Always desperate, often confused and frightened and scrambling for plausible deniability: it's just because there's no girls around, mate, it's not like either of us actually like blokes, right? But this... even for as careful and quiet as they're being, there's no question that Jedao's exactly where he wants to be. No doubt that he wants this just as desperately as Fives does.
He doesn't have to be told twice, he reaches out to twine his fingers into Jedao's hair the way he's wanted to from the start, mussing it even further. He can't believe he gets to watch this: Jedao's hands on him, one bare and one gloved, the way his lips stretch almost obscenely around him when he finally leans down to take him into his mouth. And then he doesn't care, because jesus it's almost too much. Hot and wet and tight and perfect and the hand not twisted maybe too tight into Jedao's hair is shoving that abandoned glove between this teeth, pressing over his lips to stifle the noises he can't help but make as he struggles to keep his hips still with only indifferent success.
He squeezes with his bare hand, less a reproach or a warning than a gesture toward helping Fives restrain himself a little further, although Jedao doesn't really expect this to last long. He lingers, though, laving the head with the flat of his tongue, using the tip to trace the sensitive edge where Fives' foreskin has pulled back, flicking over the rich salty-bitter leak of precum over and over. He won't be able to do anything fancy once he gets much more of it in his mouth, and he loves it, relishes every detail.
He strokes a few times with his gloved hand, struck by the heat through the thin fabric, then moves that hand when he's got the rhythm of his breathing set, grips Fives' thigh as he slides his mouth carefully farther down. He looks up to watch Fives' face again as he moves. His mouth remembers how to do it, how to be careful and considerate with his teeth, not automatically but with a deep affectionate recognition that he would almost compare to coming home, if it didn't feel more comfortable than this house has in years. He keeps going until his mouth is stuffed full and his jaw makes the first faint grumbles of a lovely familiar ache and the head of Fives' cock is just nudging against the back of his throat, like the knock of a hopeful guest.
Which is about halfway down. Keeping his grip steady, Jedao slides back up a little, sucks at the head so he doesn't drool, then back down, settling into a quick, easy rhythm.
He lets out a shuddering gasp at the squeeze, more grateful than anything. He'd just as soon not completely humiliate himself, and even with that quelling grip he's sure this is going to be embarrassingly quick. He can't look away, can't see anything but the almost rapturous look on Jedao's face as he works him with his mouth, can't feel anything but slick, wet heat, pressure and friction.
He wants to babble endearments, pleas and promises, but he's saved that particular humiliation by the need to keep quiet, and instead he sucks in great, open-mouthed breaths, his chest heaving as his hips twitch restlessly. The urge to thrust up into that perfect mouth, to push deeper, to take, is almost overwhelming, but he just splays his thighs wider, tugs ungently at Jedao's hair, and drops Jedao's glove--spit-damp and somewhat mangled--on the cushion next to him so he can reach out and trace the line of Jedao's lips with his thumb, feel where his cock slips past them.
"Fuck," he gasps, voice ragged, silence forgotten as his whole body tenses and releases in rhythm with the slide of Jedao's mouth along his shaft. He wants it to last, he wants it to last forever, jesus, just wet heat and friction and that look on Jedao's face, but he can feel the tension in his spine, the heat in his belly, coiling to the breaking point, and he knows it's not going to. "Fuck, Jedao... your fucking... fucking mouth." He tugs urgently on his hair in warning, trying to urge him up and away, and then he's not thinking of anything but the heat-lightning of release unspooling up his spine and thrumming along his nerves, and he just barely has the presence of mind to shove the side of his fist into his mouth and bite down hard as he comes.
He might lose a few hairs to Fives' gentlemanly - if not particularly discreet - attempts to pull him off, but Jedao draws in a quick breath through his nose and then pushes farther down instead in response, until his lips meet his own thumb and forefinger. It's not the most graceful or complete deep throating he's ever managed, but Fives' dick slides past the back of his throat with only a small flicker of an urge to hack and cough before he quells it.
His body tries to swallow around the obstruction, and he lets himself sit in the discomfort of it and find the pleasure in it, rough and carnal and winking at dizziness for the way he's been holding his breath, if not for long enough yet to have real effects. Most of Fives' come slips down his throat without Jedao even having to swallow, without the risk of anything dribbling out onto the couch or his uniform. When Fives is mostly through it, shuddering and starting to unclench his jaw, Jedao lets himself slip back up, throat convulsing a little as he goes, and licks up the last few drops with contented, smug flicks of his tongue in between fast shallow sips of air.
It takes Fives completely by surprise when Jedao ignores his urging and just slides farther down, and the sudden tightness around the head of his cock, the almost flickering pressure as Jedao's throat tries to work around the obstruction, startles a punched out, broken whine from him. It's mostly muffled by his fist, and he's too far gone just then to worry about if it was loud enough for someone else in the house to hear.
It feels like he spends forever curled down over Jedao, shuddering and gasping through what he's pretty sure is the most amazing orgasm of his life, fingers of his free hand carding jerkily through Jedao's hair. When he finally comes out the other side it's with a shuddering jerk as he goes from blissed out to over-stimulated like flipping a switch, and when he tugs at Jedao's hair this time it's with a different kind of urgency. "Too much," he rasps, finally pulling his fist from his mouth. "Ah, christ, too much."
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"I'm always going to have to lie to everyone," he points out, voice a warm, heavy rasp. He's bigger than Jedao, taller and broader, though still lacking an inch or two that'll probably come in a last, late growth spurt, frame heavy with an athlete's muscle, jaw showing a dark patchwork of stubble. It would be easy to take him for early to mid twenties, and even so he's well past legal and he knows exactly what he wants as he lifts his free hand and rests his fingertips just above the perfectly pressed collar of Jedao's dress uniform. Lets his thumb stretch up enough to brush at the sharp line of his jaw. "I didn't figure it would ever get any easier."
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He doesn't want to talk, anymore. He turns his head, closes his teeth on the second segment of Fives' thumb in a motion so small and quick it would be impossible to avoid. He closes his lips half a heartbeat after, strokes his tongue against he sensitive pad of his fingertip, tastes clean skin and hints of the celebratory canapés from earlier in the evening. Slowly, never breaking Fives' gaze, he drags his mouth off, teeth scraping deliberately the entire way, like his mouth is reluctant to let go.
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He was going to say something more, to answer the second part of Jedao's statement, but then there are teeth and lips closing almost delicately over the joint of his thumb and he has to lock his knees and bite back on another moan. He can't help but press the pad of his thumb down on Jedao's tongue, can't help but think of those lips closing around his cock instead, and his eyes slip shut as Jedao pulls back, teeth scraping along his skin, breath shuddering out on a strained gasp.
He probably isn't thinking clearly anymore, because the second Jedao releases his thumb he's pushing forward, hand sliding back to curl at the nape of the older man's neck. There's no awkwardness or hesitation about it, Jedao's made it clear he wants this too, and Fives presses him back against the kitchen counter with his bulk and grinds against him at the same time that he ducks his head to kiss him.
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But he'd forgotten what it actually feels like, to have another body shoved against his in artless desire, the sheer heat of it, the crackling intensity in his stomach, in his cock, in the base of his spine. So much of himself was simply shut down, during his captivity, too inessential to keep. There's no drifting, now, no standing two feet to the left of his own useless limbs. He's pinned between the rigid line of the counter against his back and the press of Fives' body, broad and gorgeous, the eager pressure of Fives' hard-on against him, the size of his hands on Jedao's skin.
He feels electric, he feels alive, and he kisses back fierce and hungry, one elbow half-braced on the counter behind him and his other hand gripping Fives' hip tight through his clothes as Jedao grinds back.
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He slides the hand at Jedao's nape up, mussing that perfect hair, feeling the slide of it between his fingers at the same time that he tugs urgently at Jedao's jacket with the other. Buttons are too much work right now, he just needs his hand up under it, so he can pull the neatly starched shirt beneath it free of Jedao's trousers and get his hand on skin.
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If the idea of losing all this contact, the rasp of stubble and the taste of Jedao's mouth and the feel of him pressed hard against him, weren't almost unbearable he'd already be on his knees. Pulling Jedao's trousers open and getting his mouth on him, swallowing him down while he stifled his noises. "Jesus, I want to fuck you," he rasps instead, the words slipping out in a whisper against Jedao's lips.
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"You're young enough to go twice, aren't you?" he murmurs, soft and low, languid as if he's already sure, as if he definitely wouldn't be shaking without the counter to hold him up. "Because I want you to fuck me hard, and long, and from the way you feel right now -" The hand holding onto Fives' hip wriggles between them, cups Fives through his pants, squeezes a little too hard for comfort, "I think that means I have to suck you off first."
He's smirking by the end, his voice glinting with it, the curl of his smile dragging up against Fives' cheek.
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"Fuck, jesus, yes," he gasps, and it's his turn to jerk, every muscle going taut for a moment at the thought of it. "Three times... if you give me a bit of a rest," he promises, and he's trying for slyly seductive, but it's more eager puppy as he jerks into Jedao's hand, whimpers at the pleasure-pain of his grip.
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Then he lets go, his hand sliding up and spread flat to push against Fives' chest. "Living room, I'm not kneeling in here," he says briskly, because the kitchen is all beautiful herringbone tile, fancy as hell and easy to clean, but murder on the knees, even if he hadn't spent far too much of the last year kneeling in places he would have really rather not.
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"Yes, sir," he manages to tease at the order--just barely, jesus he's going to end up with a wet spot on his best slacks at this rate--but instead of pulling away he presses in closer. Reluctantly slides his hand out of the back of Jedao's trousers and down his thigh instead, urging him up while his other arm snakes around the back of his shoulders to brace him. Because there's no way he wants to give up this contact, or risk giving Jedao--older, experienced, sophisticated--a chance to change his mind.
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But god, it's so tempting, Fives' strength already behind his shoulders, young and strong and sure, and the wide hand lifting his thigh feels irresistible; Jedao's skin already misses it. He hitches his leg up, acquiescing, feels his breath hitch at the same time. He leans in to hide any other reactions, his arms going over Fives' shoulders, one hand gripping tight across the back of his neck, less to support his weight than to prove he can do something other than melt in the kid's arms.
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Jedao isn't a small man, but he's wiry rather than bulky and his weight's no strain for Fives to take. The solid press of him, though, and the way Fives can feel the hard line of his cock against his belly, the way his own rests against Jedao's ass as he shifts him and starts to move- It almost short circuits his damn brain, and he has to take a moment to let himself mouth along Jedao's jaw, nip at the ridge of tendon at the side of his neck, tasting him and breathing him in and reminding himself this is real before he finally starts to move.
It's a quick trip after that, though, as Fives maneuvers through the kitchen and into the living room with long, purposeful strides... and fortunately he has plenty of practice in making his way through this house tipsy or distracted in the dark, because he's entirely too focused on the man in his arms to pay more than cursory attention to where he's going.
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"Green couch," he says as they get there, because the curtains were drawn hours ago but Jedao has had years to think about the sightlines and acoustics and options in this room.
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He bites at Fives' jaw again, then hooks a finger in his shirt collar, tugs it down enough that he can lick a broad messy stripe over Fives' pulse.
"If I can't get my mouth on your cock in the next twenty seconds," he hisses, panting very slightly, his tone lecherous and a little threatening at once, "I am going to be gravely disappointed, flip us over."
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There's no way he could miss that voice, though, and he goes absolutely still for a fraction of a second, breath escaping on a low, barely audible moan. "Oh fuck please," he just about chokes out as he shudders back into motion, jerky and a little uncoordinated in his almost frantic rush to lever them over. The end result, though, is what Jedao demanded, and Fives looks up at him, slack-jawed and panting, big hands wrapped tight at his hips as he arches up into the fucking perfect heat and weight of him.
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He drops it back into his now-bare hand and presses it against Fives' open mouth to muffle his noises as Jedao pushes himself off the couch and folds smoothly down, kneeling between Fives' legs as he makes rapid work of Fives' belt, getting his pants open and drawing his dick out with deft urgency.
For a second he just lets himself look, his bare hand stroking idly, lets Fives see him looking, breath heavy, mouth watering.
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Christ, just the sight of his bare hand shouldn't be that provocative, but Fives moans around Jedao's thumb, his grip at Jedao's hips tightening as his own jerk up. He hasn't even started to catch his breath when Jedao slides gracefully to the floor between his knees, and the sight of that guarantees there's no way in hell he's going to any time soon. He presses one of his own hands to his mouth, holding the glove in place, muffling a ragged groan as he watches Jedao open his pants, arches helplessly up into his grip as he pulls his cock free.
He feels like he could come just from this: that too-light touch combined with the way Jedao's looking at him, like he's never wanted to get his mouth on something more.
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"Fuckin' gorgeous," he murmurs, sliding his eyes back up to Fives' face, shameless and hungry. "You can pull my hair, but try not to thrust too far," he instructs, because it's been a while - too long - and he doesn't want to gag before he gets re-adjusted to the task. Jedao gets both hands on him, his bare hand at the base of Fives' cock and his gloved hand over the middle of the shaft, and just goes to town, wraps his mouth around the head, no messing around, no more teasing. His eyes flutter closed and he groans a little at the taste, sucks, savors, swirls his tongue to get more of it.
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He doesn't have to be told twice, he reaches out to twine his fingers into Jedao's hair the way he's wanted to from the start, mussing it even further. He can't believe he gets to watch this: Jedao's hands on him, one bare and one gloved, the way his lips stretch almost obscenely around him when he finally leans down to take him into his mouth. And then he doesn't care, because jesus it's almost too much. Hot and wet and tight and perfect and the hand not twisted maybe too tight into Jedao's hair is shoving that abandoned glove between this teeth, pressing over his lips to stifle the noises he can't help but make as he struggles to keep his hips still with only indifferent success.
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He strokes a few times with his gloved hand, struck by the heat through the thin fabric, then moves that hand when he's got the rhythm of his breathing set, grips Fives' thigh as he slides his mouth carefully farther down. He looks up to watch Fives' face again as he moves. His mouth remembers how to do it, how to be careful and considerate with his teeth, not automatically but with a deep affectionate recognition that he would almost compare to coming home, if it didn't feel more comfortable than this house has in years. He keeps going until his mouth is stuffed full and his jaw makes the first faint grumbles of a lovely familiar ache and the head of Fives' cock is just nudging against the back of his throat, like the knock of a hopeful guest.
Which is about halfway down. Keeping his grip steady, Jedao slides back up a little, sucks at the head so he doesn't drool, then back down, settling into a quick, easy rhythm.
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He wants to babble endearments, pleas and promises, but he's saved that particular humiliation by the need to keep quiet, and instead he sucks in great, open-mouthed breaths, his chest heaving as his hips twitch restlessly. The urge to thrust up into that perfect mouth, to push deeper, to take, is almost overwhelming, but he just splays his thighs wider, tugs ungently at Jedao's hair, and drops Jedao's glove--spit-damp and somewhat mangled--on the cushion next to him so he can reach out and trace the line of Jedao's lips with his thumb, feel where his cock slips past them.
"Fuck," he gasps, voice ragged, silence forgotten as his whole body tenses and releases in rhythm with the slide of Jedao's mouth along his shaft. He wants it to last, he wants it to last forever, jesus, just wet heat and friction and that look on Jedao's face, but he can feel the tension in his spine, the heat in his belly, coiling to the breaking point, and he knows it's not going to. "Fuck, Jedao... your fucking... fucking mouth." He tugs urgently on his hair in warning, trying to urge him up and away, and then he's not thinking of anything but the heat-lightning of release unspooling up his spine and thrumming along his nerves, and he just barely has the presence of mind to shove the side of his fist into his mouth and bite down hard as he comes.
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His body tries to swallow around the obstruction, and he lets himself sit in the discomfort of it and find the pleasure in it, rough and carnal and winking at dizziness for the way he's been holding his breath, if not for long enough yet to have real effects. Most of Fives' come slips down his throat without Jedao even having to swallow, without the risk of anything dribbling out onto the couch or his uniform. When Fives is mostly through it, shuddering and starting to unclench his jaw, Jedao lets himself slip back up, throat convulsing a little as he goes, and licks up the last few drops with contented, smug flicks of his tongue in between fast shallow sips of air.
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It feels like he spends forever curled down over Jedao, shuddering and gasping through what he's pretty sure is the most amazing orgasm of his life, fingers of his free hand carding jerkily through Jedao's hair. When he finally comes out the other side it's with a shuddering jerk as he goes from blissed out to over-stimulated like flipping a switch, and when he tugs at Jedao's hair this time it's with a different kind of urgency. "Too much," he rasps, finally pulling his fist from his mouth. "Ah, christ, too much."
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