By the time Jedao pulls his hand back and Fives can stop gagging he's definitely awake enough to remember where he is and what's going on. He's still peeved at being woken up by what felt like Jedao trying to rip his damn dick off, though, and gives him a surly look from beneath lowered brows. It doesn't make it any easier not to push into Jedao's grip, though.
"You fell asleep too," he points out. Otherwise he could have kicked him out hours ago, clearly. But he takes a deep breath and scrubs a hand across still sleep-bleary eyes. "And yes, I'm definitely awake. Were you planning on doing anything in particular with that?" His gaze dips down, towards where he can't actually see Jedao's hand curled around him, but christ can he feel it. And it's probably telling--in a way he really kind of wishes it weren't--that he's still hard as a rock in Jedao's hand despite the way he was woken up.
Jedao, in his own entirely fair opinion, had given Fives more than enough warning that Jedao couldn't be relied on for assistance, and he's being entirely magnanimous re: the hedge. Or he will be.
"Maybe," he allows, although he doesn't stroke again, not yet. This is also a small mercy, all things considered. "When does your mother usually wake up?"
"Before I usually do," he points out, rolling his eyes. He's nineteen, he's not exactly known for springing out of bed at the crack of dawn, unless he has an early practice and then he more drags himself than springs. "... but she doesn't generally come down until five-thirty, unless she has a really early meeting."
He glances towards the still dark windows then back at Jedao. "What time is it?"
Why would you not know everything about everyone in your household, Jedao thinks, in a voice that sounds mostly like his father's, but it's not as though he disagrees. But - forty-five minutes to scout the hallways, bring Fives back nightwear from his guestroom to wear in transit, send him over, find something innocuous looking to smuggle his graduation clothes in, carry those over, and then take a goddamn shower. Perfectly doable.
"Near four hundred. We have half an hour before we need to move." He figures it can't hurt to pad it, at this point. He finally gives Fives another slow pull. "What was it you were saying?"
His mother is not quite as... eccentric as Uncle Miki, and while Fives has absorbed many of his lessons over the years almost as thoroughly as his own children he hasn't completely internalized the obsession with information or the paranoia. Though he really does know his mother's schedule and habits better than is probably anything like normal. Or appropriate. He'll blame Shiro and Uncle Miki for that if it ever comes up.
"Plenty of-" He cuts off with a strangled gasp as Jedao gives him another stroke, and a shiver runs down his spine. "Oh jesus, don't stop. Please," he rasps, hips jerking into the friction as he leans in to catch Jedao's lips for an almost bruising kiss.
The kiss is electric, direct and demanding, like Fives figured out how to give him the sensation of being slammed into a wall with just their mouths. Jedao jerks his own hips a little, not yet erect but abruptly interested. Jedao keeps stroking, a little more roughly in response to the kiss, dragging Fives' foreskin along the shaft.
Fives pushes up and over Jedao, moving on instinct more than anything else. To cover him with his body, push him into the mattress with his weight, to give himself a better angle to rock into that grip, rough and confident and perfect. He doesn't even know exactly what he wants, just more. More of Jedao's touch, his voice, the heat of his mouth and the callouses on his hands and the patchwork of scars on his body. Everything.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he mumbles against Jedao's lips, then sinks in to kiss him again.
Jedao squirms underneath Fives, not struggling to change the situation, just pressing and rubbing himself against Fives' body with whatever scraps of leverage he can manage. His mouth and legs open wider in tandem as he hardens against Fives' stomach at the sheer delicious weight of him pressing Jedao down. He gets his other arm around Fives and rectifies an omission that their position last night rendered impossible, dragging his short nails down the gorgeous terrain of his back.
Fives settles between his legs, a groan shuddering out of him as he drags his cock along Jedao's inner thigh and back against his ass. So much warm, bare skin and perfect friction, and the way Jedao's squirming against him is fucking amazing. It makes him feel like every inch of his skin's alight, pleasure humming along his nerves, and when Jedao's nails drag along his back he arches up into it with a startled hiss that can't be mistaken for anything but pleasure as his cock jumps and leaks a warm trail of slick along Jedao's skin.
"You like that, baby?" he asks, and it ought to be smug but it comes out soft, a warm gasp. He traces the path of his nails with gentle fingertips, then scratches again, in just the same place.
"Fuck... fuck," he gasps against Jedao's lips as he continues to arch into his touch. He's never had hands on him like this, never thought the bite and drag of nails against his skin could feel so perfect, so electric.
"Love it, love... love all of it." Everything Jedao's done, every way he's touched him; even the painful way he'd when him up if he's going to be honest about it. "Fuck... please. Please don't stop."
He scratches again, and again, in the same rhythm as the hand moving on Fives' cock, always following the same path, starting to raise tiny, stinging welts, warm and paler than the rest of Fives skin.
"Love how responsive you are," he murmurs, before a flurry of kisses that consist mostly of biting at Fives' lips, sharp quick moments followed by gentler ones. He rubs the heel of his palm against the path of the scratches, soothing and aggravating at once, makes sure his mouth is on Fives to muffle potential noise as he lets his fingernails dig slightly into Fives' cock as he shifts his grip.
Oh christ, it's so hard to stay quiet with Jedao's hand on him, his nails raking patterns into his back. It's sharp and hot and sends shivers down his spine as he's torn between arching up into Jedao's nails or pushing down into Jedao's fist. And then he doesn't have to choose and he jerks harshly into Jedao's hand, not away, though his eyes go wide and he yelps in surprise at the nails digging into his shaft.
"Shhh, shhh, come on, bite me if you have to," Jedao urges, because that seems like a much more doable solution than convincing himself to stop hurting Fives when he reacts like that. He rubs a thumb over the head of Fives' cock and then uses his nails again on the downstroke, light but unmistakable.
Fives' eyes roll back in his head at shock of pleasurepain and he can't bite Jedao, because he can't do anything but let his head hang between his shoulders and pant in little, desperate, open-mouthed gasps as he jerks into Jedao's hand. He had no idea, had never even considered something like this might feel good... might feel so good his brain's just about whiting out and he can't do anything but hold himself up (barely) and ride out the sharp wave of pleasure sparking along his nerves.
He gives a softer stroke to let Fives breathe, let the overwhelming sensation ebb only to bring it back again, just as intense as before, trying to keep just the same edge of pressure that leaves Fives shuddering and stunned.
He's desperately hard now himself, soaking up the sounds of Fives' appreciation, the shocked bliss on his face, the way his body seizes and ripples over Jedao's. The hand that was scratching Fives' back gets a tight grip on his shoulder, and Jedao maneuvers himself just a little more, so that he can slight his own dick past Fives', get some friction against Fives' sweat-slick thigh, shoving against his heavy balls.
Every single time Jedao digs his nails into hypersensitive skin Fives jerks and shudders and, finally, leans down enough to bite hard at the meat of his shoulder. Because the alternative is howling, and even this far gone he knows he can't do that; can't risk discovery, not even here among friends and family. So he bites down hard as pleasure he'd never imagined shocks through his system, twisting and coiling in his stomach, shivering through his muscles and drawing his balls up tight. And the feel of Jedao's cock dragging along his skin, pushing up against his balls just heightens everything, until he's just a mess of sweat-slick skin and tremoring muscle as he jerks into Jedao's fist, into his nails and the perfect pleasure-pain of his grip, and gives up any hope of making this last.
it hurts and he doesn't love it, not like Fives does, but he doesn't need to, jerks his hips and strokes a little faster, panting along with each drag and scrape, hungry for Fives' hunger, for his helpless tension even as his body looms over Jedao, even as the haphazard slide of his skin on Jedao's cock drives him absolutely wild.
"Come on, baby, do it, get your mess all over me," he whispers on a gentle stroke before carefully applying his nails again.
Fives is too far gone to even consider if it's something Jedao might like or not, though he might assume he did if it occurred to him to wonder, he just needs something, anything, to keep him from waking the whole damned house up howling out his shock and pleasure. And it just gets harder--literally and figuratively--when Jedao speeds his strokes, when the pleasure and the even more pleasurable pain come in such quick succession that they almost merge, and all he can do is jerk helplessly into it and rocket toward the edge.
He might have managed to last a little longer, even another few minutes (maybe), but then Jedao adds his voice to the mix and it's too much. The almost gentle whisper, breath warm against his skin, delivering a request that his body seems to take as an order, because the next time Jedao's nails drag down his cock he jerks once into the pressure and then goes shudders to a stop, rigid and still as he spills all over Jedao's hand and belly and even his chest, his desperate, sobbing howls muffled against Jedao's skin.
Jedao doesn't skip a single beat in switching his strokes to his own cock, smearing Fives' come along his own shaft, hot and filthy. Jedao's throat clutches around soft, broken-whimper noises, because he barely has room to move but he loves it anyway, because he's so close, the moment he lets himself think about it, the moment he isn't viciously holding back.
It takes Fives a long beat to realize what Jedao's doing, that the hand that's no longer on him is furiously stripping Jedao's cock. That Jedao is whimper and jerking beneath him and that he needs to feel this, needs to get his own hand on Jedao. He braces himself unsteadily on one forearm and reaches down to curl his own hand around Jedao's, feeling the warm slickness of his come coating Jedao's skin, slicking their grip as he intertwine's their fingers on Jedao's cock. He ducks in to catch Jedao's lips, to swallow his whimpers, to breathe almost desperately against his lips, "please, fuck, lemme feel you. Please, Jedao."
He can't help but arch his shoulders into Jedao's hands, can't do anything but beg wordlessly for the sharp press of his nails again as he continues to jerk him, fast and rough. He's panting still, breathless and sated from his own orgasm but still desperate to feel Jedao come apart beneath him, to feel his come hot over his hand and slicking his skin.
"Fucking perfect," he rasps, and catches Jedao's lips again, kissing him deep and wet and filthy as he urges him on.
He digs his nails in hard, but doesn't move them, doesn't scratch down when what he needs is something to hold on to as he bucks into Fives' hand, moans into his mouth, sucks on his tongue. Everything feels hot and heavy and slick and good, all over him, all around him, and there's nothing else, nothing Jedao has to worry about, not for another -
- he doesn't think about the fucking time, he doesn't have to. There's only Fives, only touch, only this familiar place and if it isn't quite safe on its own, it could be like this, could be safe now, with the bulk of Fives, crooning and young and unruined, like a shield between him and the world.
He comes soundlessly again, arching desperately against Fives' body, into his grip, into his kiss, probably draws blood from the amount of his weight briefly hanging from his fingernails, before he shudders and collapses.
He doesn't need to move them, the sharp bite of them into his skin is more than enough--more than enough to make him wish they had time to do this again, because he knows he could get hard again in fucking minutes for this. But that's not what this is about, and he groans into Jedao's mouth as he focuses on the feel of him in his hand, hard and slick and perfect, on the twist and drag of stroking him; brushing his thumb across the head of Jedao's dick on the downstroke, dragging the heel of his hand over it, pulling Jedao's foreskin with it, on ever upstroke. Feeling Jedao buck into his grip, moan into his mouth, come apart, silently, beneath him... though Fives makes up for it with the deep, wracking groan he muffles into Jedao's mouth as he feels his nails split his skin.
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"You fell asleep too," he points out. Otherwise he could have kicked him out hours ago, clearly. But he takes a deep breath and scrubs a hand across still sleep-bleary eyes. "And yes, I'm definitely awake. Were you planning on doing anything in particular with that?" His gaze dips down, towards where he can't actually see Jedao's hand curled around him, but christ can he feel it. And it's probably telling--in a way he really kind of wishes it weren't--that he's still hard as a rock in Jedao's hand despite the way he was woken up.
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"Maybe," he allows, although he doesn't stroke again, not yet. This is also a small mercy, all things considered. "When does your mother usually wake up?"
Unknown variables.
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He glances towards the still dark windows then back at Jedao. "What time is it?"
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"Near four hundred. We have half an hour before we need to move." He figures it can't hurt to pad it, at this point. He finally gives Fives another slow pull. "What was it you were saying?"
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"Plenty of-" He cuts off with a strangled gasp as Jedao gives him another stroke, and a shiver runs down his spine. "Oh jesus, don't stop. Please," he rasps, hips jerking into the friction as he leans in to catch Jedao's lips for an almost bruising kiss.
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"Fuck, you're perfect," he mumbles against Jedao's lips, then sinks in to kiss him again.
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"Love it, love... love all of it." Everything Jedao's done, every way he's touched him; even the painful way he'd when him up if he's going to be honest about it. "Fuck... please. Please don't stop."
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"Love how responsive you are," he murmurs, before a flurry of kisses that consist mostly of biting at Fives' lips, sharp quick moments followed by gentler ones. He rubs the heel of his palm against the path of the scratches, soothing and aggravating at once, makes sure his mouth is on Fives to muffle potential noise as he lets his fingernails dig slightly into Fives' cock as he shifts his grip.
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He never wants it to stop.
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He's desperately hard now himself, soaking up the sounds of Fives' appreciation, the shocked bliss on his face, the way his body seizes and ripples over Jedao's. The hand that was scratching Fives' back gets a tight grip on his shoulder, and Jedao maneuvers himself just a little more, so that he can slight his own dick past Fives', get some friction against Fives' sweat-slick thigh, shoving against his heavy balls.
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"Come on, baby, do it, get your mess all over me," he whispers on a gentle stroke before carefully applying his nails again.
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He might have managed to last a little longer, even another few minutes (maybe), but then Jedao adds his voice to the mix and it's too much. The almost gentle whisper, breath warm against his skin, delivering a request that his body seems to take as an order, because the next time Jedao's nails drag down his cock he jerks once into the pressure and then goes shudders to a stop, rigid and still as he spills all over Jedao's hand and belly and even his chest, his desperate, sobbing howls muffled against Jedao's skin.
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"Such good hands," he mumbles, hips shuddering and twitching, starting to lose his rhythm.
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"Fucking perfect," he rasps, and catches Jedao's lips again, kissing him deep and wet and filthy as he urges him on.
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- he doesn't think about the fucking time, he doesn't have to. There's only Fives, only touch, only this familiar place and if it isn't quite safe on its own, it could be like this, could be safe now, with the bulk of Fives, crooning and young and unruined, like a shield between him and the world.
He comes soundlessly again, arching desperately against Fives' body, into his grip, into his kiss, probably draws blood from the amount of his weight briefly hanging from his fingernails, before he shudders and collapses.
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