umbralla | [for romain]

Ouais, je sais ça. You are learning. Maintenant, je suis un professeur.

[It sounded right in his poor, drunken head, almost smooth, but it rings all kinds of unpleasant bells there once it’s spoken aloud, for quite obvious reasons. He gives a hard, visible wince, then doubles back to correct the statement, using English to ensure that he thinks hard about his words rather than blurting out something so stupid. They come slowly, but with certainty once he’s chosen them.]

I would like to help you decide if you enjoy any of this. I would not like to do anything that frightens you. If the idea of sex is too large - it is not so difficult to concentrate only on you. I will not suffer. [A tiny, knowing smile at that. They both know it's not terribly fun to be left with an erection after someone else has been pleasured, but in this case - it'll be so worth it.]

[Okay, switching so fast between English and French is making his head spin all over again. So now he's going to let it drop on Ghyslain's chest and shut his eyes tight.

He puffs up his cheeks, exhales deep.]

No. I mean - not no. God, this is really weird.

[... he turns his head to the side, this time resting his cheek rather than forehead.]

I still think you're really, like... good-looking. [don'tsayitdon'tsayitdon'tsayit] And - hot. But in a manly way.

[... aaaaan?]

Also, you're seriously hard.

[bros don't leave bros hanging with a boner bro]

[Hot. He can't help but smile to himself, while Romain can't see it. That's very new. He's been petted and stroked like a little doll, told he's pretty a million times, but never hot. There's something carnal about the word that appeals to him.

Romain is still struggling with this, though, and Ghyslain thinks he can guess why. It's pretty much the core fear of every straight man who contemplates gay sex, and one he had himself before the first time he experienced it, truth be told.]

Do you fear being - pénétré? [Well, if they're being blunt.] Because that is not the only way.

[Good thing he can't see Romain's face, because his eyes shoot white open at the word. And he leans back again because suddenly it's too hot in here.]

Yeah, I - not that. I definitely don't know how to do any of that.

[nope, not ready for that much.]

Or anything else. To a guy, I mean. I know plenty about sex.

[He's so defensive. Ghyslain looks into his eyes, with that same deep focus that transcends the glassy drunkenness of their surface, and shifts back as well so that his arousal can no longer be felt. It's a barrier, he thinks. Gently, he takes Romain by the shoulders, a steadying grip.]

I am not going to judge you, Romain, and I will not make demands. Please relax.

Edited 2015-06-16 20:42 (UTC)

Oh, dude - no, I'm not saying you are. Making demands. I'd walk the hell out if you started doing that.

[tho bro it sucks to have to crawl into a cold shower bro]

I just don't wanna - hurt you. Or leave you coming out of this unhappy because I don't know the first thing about it.

I have grown beyond expectations.

[That's a heavy thing to drop on him right now, and not at all sexy, but he should know it and have it stated just as explicitly as their sexual talk. It's very true. Just because he's not free and easy like Romain doesn't mean he's still attaching his heart to everyone who shows him attention. In his own way, he's just as jaded.]

Mon main. Ce n'est pas effrayant, ouais? [He holds one out between them to illustrate his words: it's big for his slight body, long-fingered, classic piano playing hands.] Je peux utilizer mon main. Si tu veux faire la même après ça, tu peux. Si non... je peux faire la mème pour moi-même.

[And in case he thinks that's not enough...]

It will - the thought of having given you pleasure will give me much pleasure in return.

Your hand?

[he looks down at it, mental-image striking him immediately. His lids lower again, and he swallows. Yeah, that - that sounds manageable. He doesn't feel so bad about just lying there without knowing what to do if it's a handjob. Figure that?

Let him just stay quiet for a moment longer. He never answers immediately no matter who's offering ,really. Most of the time the answer should be oh hell yes, please. ]

... What do you want me to do?

Enjoy yourself. [He's coy again, the slightest hint of a smile, but then he answers more seriously because it's good that Romain wants to be involved. It's a good sign.] Fait attention. It will be different to use your hand on someone else, if you should decide to try. Notice how it is different and you will feel more prepared.

[But mostly, he wants Romain to lose himself in this. He regrets his own advice because of that. Still, if he wants a task, that's the best Ghyslain can give: study for your own test, since you're so obviously considering this one.

He climbs off of Romain, crouching to one side of him, and kisses him again. As his mouth moves, so does his hand, settling low on Romain's abdomen. His fingers curl in the bottom of Romain's shirt, but that's it for now, just letting him feel it so close to where it will soon rest.]

... Okay.

[... Being taught all over again. Except when an actual teacher was involved, he was being shown how to finger a woman between her legs as he did it. Finding the right spot, alternating between the kind of movement, how many fingers - listening close to when she was no longer feeling satisfied or when his smaller hand was driving her utterly mad. Adapting that from girl to girl was relatively easy from then on, none of them ever quite as demanding as she.

This isn't as foreign, but novel all over.]

D'accord.

[That makes sense - what works for you won't necessarily work for another. He could figure that much out on his own, but still listens close. Leans back and props his hands behind him on the mattress, muscles twitching when Ghyslain's hand rests so dangerously low. God. Okay. Teenager much?

Concentrate on the kissing. He was really enjoying that up until they talked about it.]

[And he's throwing everything he has into the kiss, every curl of his tongue and light graze of his teeth and alternating pressure of his lips, sometimes just barely grazing their mouths together and sometimes lavishing enough attention to leave Romain breathless. He's had good tutelage as well, someone who was just as easily distracted or annoyed when he didn't perform properly, so he's uniquely qualified for this.

What a horrible way to think about it. So he tries not to think about it at all, how he learned to do this, and thinks only about coaxing pleasure out of Romain's fears.

When his hand shifts, it's right past his end goal without touching it at all, instead resting on Romain's inner thigh to slide up and down lightly. High enough to be suggestive, yes, but still not touching directly.]

Will you lie down? [Everything will be a question, not an order, unless he gets any sign that orders are preferred as Romain's excitement starts to build.]

[yeah, that - that definitely causes something to warm up inside him, suggestive beyond the kissing, now already past the level of just fooling around. There's a goal now. And at least they've talked about it, because Romain really didn't know what to do with himself back there.

Lie down? He nods, then does as asked. Leaning on one elbow at a time, then flat on his back with idle hands. Angling his head to the side to look up at Ghyslain.

His eyes are wonderful. Even when his gaze is relaxed it's like he's looking right through him. He realizes in that moment that he's not even that drunk anymore, and despite the nervousness he isn't horrified by this. Not that homosexuality was ever cause for horror, just that it never applied to him before.

There goes that.]

[Having Romain look back up at him, so vulnerable in this moment, is both lovely and painful. He can see a mirror of himself when he was first beginning, but he also knows that's a false reflection, because he won't leave any kind of lasting scar on Romain. He won't let himself. If Romain wants to go their separate ways, he will; if he wants to continue down this path, he'll do that as well, on any terms. He won't be the one who opens up a new world to someone and then leaves it barren and empty just when they need a guide the most.

Maybe that's what he's doing, at least partially. Trying to correct what was done to him. Or maybe that's just a good thought for chasing away the more selfish ones, the satisfaction of watching a person who had never considered this before enjoy what he can do. He'll allow that it exists, because everyone is at least a little bit ugly.

Now it's time. Now he moves further up, between Romain's legs, cupping his hand around whatever he finds there and massaging with a deft touch. He leans in as he does so, dotting kisses around Romain's pretty mouth, light enough that they won't distract from the sensation he's trying to build lower down.]

C'est bon? [It's whispered against Romain's lips, the pressure of his hand steady, movements fluid and smooth.]

Edited 2015-06-16 22:23 (UTC)

[shit - yeah. That's slow and just the right amount of pressure, light enough to be a tease, teasing enough to make him flare in anticipation. No erection yet, but he's shifting his hips tellingly.

It's a good thing he doesn't know what Ghyslain is thinking. Issues too similar would rise to the surface and they'd just spend the night either sharing or avoiding the talk altogether. And he'd be too sober to pretend he could just ignore his mind and listen to his body.]

Mouais...

[very bon. His eyes flutter shut and he parts his lips, moving them only to run his tongue whenever Ghyslain leans away.]

[Yes, all the signals are very good. Combined relaxation and tension, exactly as it should be in the earliest stages. He curls his fingers just a little, but otherwise maintains the same movement through Romain's little twitches and shifts; it's good that he has to maintain such sharp focus, concentrate entirely on Romain, because that makes it much easier to ignore how heat is ripping through him like wildfire with every sign of enjoyment. Even just that tiny opening of Romain's lips makes him have to fight back a shudder lest his own arousal create a feeling of pressure for Romain again.

Distract. Think about Romain. Make this good for him. He kisses Romain's open mouth softly, then moves on to his jawline, down his neck. Hot kisses, his own lips just a bit parted, but not wet and sloppy. He doesn't suck, doesn't bite. Everything is about buildup right now: no sudden, startling jolts of sensation, which could ruin the entire effect.]

Edited (I'M WORSE AT WORDS THAN HE IS.) 2015-06-16 23:08 (UTC)

Mmn--

[His sounds grow in eagerness, now almost involuntary because he is definitely being charged and swelling under the touch. Romain has to swallow again, pursing his lips into Ghyslain's before he's whimpering at the progress of his mouth down to his neck, so soft and calculated. The little movements of his hips are now turning into steady rolls, pressing the growing erection into the other boy's hand.

This is still the beginning, but the nature of his all is making him incredibly warm. It's not just the sexual aspect of it, though - he feels like he's being guided, taken care of. Maybe it's just his type, but the girls he slept with were either the ones being taken care of or at a level of equality, never the ones who overpowered him in such an attentive way. The last time he had this, she was a woman too old for him, taking advantage of a young and infatuated boy. He didn't care. He still doesn't. All he regrets is that he came out of it hurt, not that it happened in the first place.

She warped him just right, didn't she.]

That's really good...

[The kissing, the stroking. All of it.]

[If he's warped then they both are, a little, considering that Ghyslain is willing to use this kind of care in the first place rather than just experimenting eagerly with a friend. They both learned how the whole thing works a little bit wrong, but it's working. Oh, it's working, and Ghyslain can't help but breathe a bit heavily against Romain's shoulder when he feels him starting to get hard. Now he gets a proper grip over Roman's pants, still light but shaping what's coming to life there, and now the massaging comes closer to a true handjob stroke.

Kissing along his shoulder, his collarbone, before moving back to whisper against his ear after he speaks.]

Bien. [And he really does sound happy, not just satisfied. He sounds almost overjoyed.] Peux-je vous toucher?

[He thinks the meaning is clear enough. Bare-handed. Can he start pulling back the clothes now?]

[He tenses and moves his lips, sucks them in to wet them with his tongue, all little but telling reactions to anything and everything Ghyslain does. It's already so much better just based on the fact that those fingers are curling around the length of his arousal, even if it's still over the fabric.

Eyes shut, he nods at the question.]

Yes - please.

[Please. A little sound escapes him at that, much as he's been trying to smother his own reactions, and he kisses Romain's ear softly before shifting down a bit to unbutton and unzip his pants. He gets another gentle massage over the fabric of his boxers (which are adorable, good god, Ghyslain has to suck his lips back between his teeth to keep from giggling, just stifling it into a fond little smile), then everything gets eased down around his ankles. He can decide if he wants to kick them right off and be undressed or if the comfort of being able to reach down easily and pull them back up makes it better.

And for the first time, it becomes quite plain that Ghyslain needs to calm himself before continuing, a few deep and shaky breaths leaving his lips before he settles his hand on Romain's cock. It's so hot, almost completely hard now, and Ghyslain just wants to bury his face beween those legs and kiss all around it. Take it right into his mouth. But that's not their agreement, so he just curls his hand again and starts to stroke with more force and intent. His breathing is still heavier than it should be, but he can't stop that now. His chest feels tight with anticipation, the need to see Romain come apart.]

[Oh. Right. The rubber ducky boxers. He forgot about them completely. It's a good thing Ghyslain doesn't make a comment though, because they're his favorite and he'll defend them to the end of this Earth!!! Maybe just won't use them when he's prepared to seduce someone and wants to be taken even remotely seriously if and when they sleep together. Ahem.

He has to prop himself up a little to help Ghyslain with the pants, wiggling a little but not kicking them off entirely. This part is easier than he thought it'd be, but if the other boy is getting too excited then Romain doesn't notice, startling a noise in his throat when it's skin on skin at last.]

Ohh - [ohhh. Drunk or not, he's still really mellowed out and all the more receptive to any kind of charge, shooting right through his body and concentrating beneath the palm of Ghyslain's hand. He needs - he needs to kiss him again, muffle his own sounds somehow. A hand anchors around his nape at that thought, closing in to kiss him hastily.]

[No, he wants to hear those sounds, but that doesn't mean he'll turn down a kiss either; warm and pliant, he bends easily under the pressure of Romain's hand and meets his mouth, finally losing some of that fine control in his messy, wet reciprocation. He has to break away now and then to catch his breath, somehow even more lost in this than Romain, but he always returns to the clumsy kissing if Romain leans back up for another.

He won't lose himself completely, though. His hand is still deft and precise, adding touches that keep it from just being a basic up-and-down pumping motion; he'll twist a little here, slide his thumb around the sensitive areas of the head on the occasional upstroke, squeeze lightly at the base before slackening as he moves upward, varying just enough to complement the steady pace rather than breaking it in any way that might diminish the building pleasure.]

Tu es merveilleux, Romain... [It's murmured with a little smile, light enough not to sound like any kind of deep, inappropriate confession; Ghyslain's not in love, just delighted with Romain's eagerness and how he keeps giving himself over more and more to what's happening.]

[He wants to tell Ghyslain he's just drunk again, but they've come too far and been at this for too long for that to be a viable excuse anymore. He thinks it just makes him sound like he's denial, too, or downplaying whatever kind of chemistry brought them together tonight. Neither of them would be doing this if either one of them didn't want to. How he views that situation will change quite a bit in the morning, but until then -]

C'est trop bon. Trop bon - [A whimper here and there, hissing through his lips whenever his hips jerk involuntarily, steadying himself right after to counter the movement of the hand. It's just about the best handjob he can remember getting for a long while, all those details slipped in between the regular strokes. Ghyslain's hand is - it's delicate. That's the word that's been missing, and it's perfect to describe everything about him. His beauty, his movements, his words. If he didn't have enough experience he'd probably have come ten seconds into it. Maybe not even that long.] Do you - do you want me to do - anything -

[Too good... that's not a warning or an objection. That's a backhanded plea. He can't hold back the full-body shudder that rips through him at those words, but still he doesn't lose laser-sharp focus on the movement of his hand, which he amps up as soon as Romain starts jerking and jittering into the strokes. Less finesse now, more sheer speed and friction. He's just on the edge of getting needy enough not to care how it's done and that's exactly when to push.

Do? What can he do? He's doing everything, he's so gorgeous and consumed by the simplest act Ghyslain could have pulled out of his arsenal. This is incredible. But he licks his lips thoughtfully, gives Romain one of those effortlessly incisive looks, before deciding that he can handle a bit of reciprocation from Romain without breaking apart himself and ruining this.]

You could touch me. Not - not intimately. [He's just as breathless, really proving that his statement about this providing him as much pleasure as it would Romain was no lie.] Just put your hands on me. Where you like.

Yeah? [He breathes, lids half-closed to look up at him, fingers pressing a little harder against his nape. He likes to hear what is wanted from him from just about anyone, so that much has remained consistent despite the drastic change in partners throughout his short life. Soon as Ghyslain gives him the answer he's obedient about following through: his other hand reaches to cup his face, bring him closer again, keeping him busy with kisses while his hips continue to jerk up against the faster strokes. While Romain works to search any part of his body that's within his reach, his neck and abdomen grow completely tense, moans noisily announcing that he's really, really close.]

Oh - fuck - [Oop, swearing. Definitely another sign.] I'm coming, I'm coming -

[He sounds about as urgent as anyone would, pressing his eyes shut when he interrupts the kiss and freezes up completely, only to shoot his hips back into Ghyslain's grasp, ejaculating in a series of quick but strong spasms. Then he releases an incredibly long breath and falls back, chest heaving.]

... Oh man.

[Everywhere Romain's hands fall, regardless of whether it's a seemingly innocuous spot or a highly suggestive one, they coax out shudders so long and deep that Ghyslain's hand even jitters a bit in its frantic pace. He's sensitive, so incredibly sensitive, and so aroused right now that the simplest touch over his clothing is enough to stoke the fire.]

Oui, Romain, oui - [Not just breathless but gasping, so ready for him, and he lets out a tiny empathetic moan when he feels the damp, sticky heat spill over his hand again and again. It happened, it really worked - he got Romain off. He did it well, by the looks of things, well and truly and intensely. He's in awe of the aftermath, both the mess and the dazed awe mirrored on Romain's face.

He did it.]

Très beau. [It's already a thing between them, that statement, and it's all he can say right now. With that post-orgasm glow about him, flushed and sweaty and messy and gasping for breath, he's so incredibly lovely. It's practically short-circuited Ghyslain's brain.]

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