Anything Oscar Wilde Can Do, I Can Do Better
GrantxCael
The sound of panting stopped abruptly as it was joined with the snapping click of a plastic lid being flicked open. He cracked an eye open, lips still parted in an interrupted groan as he watched Grant pour something onto his hand. "W-what the he-" He was interrupted again by a sharp look, overhanging bangs disheveled and damp and only adding to the intensity in those eyes. Cael bit his lip and sat up on his elbows, watching as Grant continued to rub the stuff on his hands. Without making eye contact, Grant shot a slippery hand out and onto Cael's thigh, smirking despite himself at the shriek that issued forth. "F-Fuck! Christ that's cold w-what are you doing!" His question went ignored, met only with an eye roll as Grant trailed slick fingers down the inside of his thigh. "We're experimenting Pinenut." Cael's breath hitched as Grant brought his other hand up and across the warm skin of his thighs, smeared clear, slick fluid across them before leaning back. "T-that doesn't really…a-answer my question…"Grant only grunted at him as he slid his hands into own pants, choked on a small sound and freed himself with the ease of an "experienced" teen.
Slightly evened breaths turned erratic again as Cael sucked in a sharp breath, eyes following Grant's hands as they reached for the bottle of lube, squirted more onto his palm and slid down to stroke himself once, twice. They ticked back up to his face, narrowed at the smug look on the others face as his peripherals picked up the languid motion of Grant's arm. "Do I have to spell everything out for you Cael?" His breath hitched again, rattled in his chest as Grant lunged forward and rubbed against him, fingers cold as they gripped his thigh with less than an ounce of the same gentleness as before. He let his head fall back against the pillow as Gant ground down again, throat swallowing jerkily with every quiet, breathy curse that fell from Grant's mouth.
"It's called-" A shallow thrust against him. "-intercrural sex" Another shallow thrust, this one wringing out an answering groan from Cael's mouth, and another, louder moan as his legs were snapped shut. His chest heaved as he rolled his head up, boneless as Grant hung his legs over a forearm and embarrassingly turned on when he resumed bucking his hips. Cheeks flushed hotter with every rock forward, body twitching at the friction as Grant mumbled an explanation, punctuating his points with every slick slide against him. "Greeks did this shit-" a rough swallow and a quiet hitch of breath, the beginnings of an eminent unraveling, "Abraham Lincoln-" a shuddery groan and an audible smirk, "Oscar Wilde." Grant angled his hips slightly, pulled back a little more before sliding forward, arms quivering as Cael arched his back, offering his own odd angle to the situation. Grant pushed forward, bent Cael in half and thrust between his thighs again, mouth open and hot against Cael's ear, again, moans muffled by Cael's throat, again, more erratic, breath mingling with Cael's as their bodies burned, once more before Cael's body tightened and they lost themselves on his belly.
Grant rocked forward a couple more times, arms like jelly as he let Cael's legs slip back onto the bed. "Christ~" There was a moment of silence, broken by Cael's wheeze of a laugh as he pushed Grant to the side and rolled into a sitting position. "Oscar Wilde you said?" Grant nodded and swept his bangs from his face. "…Guy's got good taste…" "...Good lord Ficus, you're a right pervert."