Hands rushing. Not too much. It was hard to tell, breathing; hard. Kissing; even harder. Lips, tongue; licking. Teeth; biting. Scratching, grabbing, pulling; grinding. Fucking clothes, all in the way; and why so many, so much time wasted on buttons, belts; zippers and ties. Pulling, grabbing; tearing.
He smelled like beer, of cigarettes, and sweat. Like wood, oddly mixed; where would a scent like that come from. His hands were rough, worked, like leather; running up much softer skin, felt like sandpaper on silk. Only slightly irritating, more so elating.
He moved them. Lifting, dragging, fumbling; not making it far from the entryway. The couch. Leather, ugly deep red, bought right out of an Ikea. Creaking; leather on leather, as cushions rub against one another. Cold; like the temperature of a house that was recently unoccupied. It won't stay that way for long.
Kicking his boots off, they landed with a loud thud on the floor at the edge of the couch. Fingers plucking at left over barriers between skin. Shirts were long gone at the door, belts ripped from their loops during the groping toward the couch, pants left on due to shoes blocking complete removal. But now that those were gone the only obstacles left were pants; and pesky underwear.
He moved his hands to start at the other's zipper, but was met with a slap on the back of his hand from his partner.
"W-what?" The Dane let out a half-shocked, more disappointed exclamation.
The red eyed man below him glinted a devilish smile. "Use your teeth."
Briefly looking over Gilbert and the wild look in his eyes, he went right back to work.
Head lowering, making sure to tease as punishment for the hand slap, slowly working around the zipper; rubbing, light bites through fabric, hot breath on exposed skin. It takes everything in the Prussian not to jerk up.
He takes the zipper clasp in his teeth, moves down with his whole body, back arching, hands on Gilbert's waist to pull his pants off with a fluid motion, only to get caught awkwardly on feet. A snarky laugh escapes the lighter man's mouth, but he kicks the remaining clothes from his ankles.
"That's mean." The Dane pouts.
"That's what you get for taking too long." Gil moved to spread his legs slightly, and to perch himself on his elbows, leaning with his back on the couch arm rest.
Mathias watches as the other man takes on a seductive look, eyes slightly squinted, a single eyebrow slightly raised, tongue flicking animalistic over teeth. He runs his hands over his chest, traces a finger down his stomach, and slides a finger under the waistband of his briefs, followed by the rest of his hand. He grips his cock, and begins to stroke himself. Slowly, maddeningly slow.
Mathias wants to lick his body, run his tongue down his chest, following the path Gil had lain out with his finger, stop briefly at the waistband, snap it against Gil and leave a small pink mark, and then lift Gil right out of his underwear.
He doesn't however, do anything. Watching, consuming, enraptured at the way the other man's chest rises and falls as he breathes, watches his eyes flutter open and closed, the motion of his hand as he works his member.
"Hey, don't do it all by yourself, show me."
He says it more like a command, and Gilbert obeys. Lifting his ass off the couch slightly, with his free hand he slides his briefs down, revealing his erection and his still pumping hand. He gets them as far down as his knees before Mathias is pulling them away with great force and they disappear as he throws them.
Gil settles himself back on the couch, back still to the arm rest, and with his remaining hand begins to circle his nipple.
"What, you just gonna watch?" Gil's breathy question leaves Mathias with a hitch in his throat. He would love to just watch, watch as Gil pleasures himself, watch as he orgasms, clean the white mess from his skin afterwards, suck and lick him back into action, and then take Gil for a second round. His own cock pushed against his pants at the thought.
But he wasn't so patient, he might climax too soon himself if he just watched, it would be a lot more enjoyable to act.
Mathias gets off the couch, not removing his eyes from Gilbert's as the other man still pleasures himself, and he undoes the buttons on his jeans, slides them off along with his boxers and leaves them there. Mathis moves closer back to the couch. He stands fully erect in front of Gilbert, and before he can say or do anything, the other man leans out and takes the tip in his mouth.
The Dane lets out a throaty gasp of pleasure. The warmth of the other man's mouth is unbearable, especially compared to the lingering cold of the room that had settled on his skin in the short time he was left exposed to it.
Gilbert runs his lips over the head, but doesn't take Mathias any further. Stopping his pumping he adjusts his position, sitting normally on the couch, legs spread and Mathias right in front of him, he moves his hands and takes Mathias by the buttocks and starts to lick around the shaft.
Mathias wants to thrust, but fights it, Gilbert's going to do all the work anyway. And he does, starting at the tip, flicking his tongue over the head, running it down the shaft, up, and down again, taking the head into his mouth, brushing sensitive skin with his teeth, and incredibly; to Mathias' joy, takes him deep in his throat. Sucking and massaging with his tongue against Mathias' length, Gilbert moving his head back and forth, the cold of the air that hits as Gil pulls back makes the heat all that more unbelievable when it slides back in. And when Gilbert wants to send Mathias to the breaking point, he moans, sending vibrations over the Dane's members and suddenly the taller man is mumbling out a string of warnings.
"G-Gil, I'm…I'm gonna, c-cum." Not wanting to unload in Gilbert's mouth he tries to pull out, but the other man clutches him tighter, and last second thrusts him as deep as he can take it, and Mathias climaxes.
Gilbert swallows a decent amount, but some of it settles in his mouth, and the rest comes spilling over his lips and dribbles onto his chest.
"Damn Mathias, when's the last time you came? I wasn't expecting this much! I could've choked!" Gilbert's aggravated eyes bearing into Mathias as he collapses sideways onto the couch.
"If you're asking me the last time I had sex you know the answer to that one already" He's making a joke, or trying to at least, hoping to soften the other man's glare. Instead he gets an exasperated sigh.
"Hey, you better not be tired, we're far from done." There's almost a small panic in Gil's eyes as it crosses his mind that he might have to finish himself tonight. But Mathias was already moving into action before Gil's sentence had ended.
He grabs Gilbert by his ankles and pulls him onto his back, sliding his hands to behind the other man's knees and brings Gil's legs above his head. Mathias is crouching over him, a smile that says with much confidence that there's no way that one round was enough, and Gil would pay a hefty fine for even thinking it was.
"What was that honey? We're far from done. I hope you're ready because tonight I'm really not gonna be satisfied until I hear you beg me."
The calm in the Dane's voice only hid the darkness behind his words, Gilbert swallowed hard, and his body became weak at the thought. That's what he was hoping for.
"Hnph, fine then, get to it."
Mathias lifts himself up onto his knees, taking Gil's legs along with him, setting the other man's ass on his elevated thighs. He places one hand on one of Gil's legs to brace himself and to hold onto the other, and with his free hand takes two of his fingers and reaches over and puts them into Gilbert's mouth.
"Lick."
And Gilbert does. Sloppily, greedily, as though it were Mathias' cock he had back in his mouth. Mathias' fingers are almost dripping with Gil's saliva when he takes them out of his mouth, his own member is throbbing hard again. He's amazed at how quickly he can become excited just watching Gilbert do such erotic things.
He adjusts himself one more time, he won't be moving from his next position for a while, and he doesn't want his legs to give out any time during.
"Hey wait a damn minute; you're not thinking you can go in just like this, do you?" Gil's annoyed again, they got so caught up it was easy to forget a few things.
"Uhhh, right, right, just excited I guess, and you blew me without one so I thought-"
"Just, go and get the condom! Don't forget the lube either!"
Flopping Gil's legs off his shoulders Mathias gets up and starts heading toward the bedroom.
He stops briefly and turns to look at Gil quickly. "Just so you know, this kinda killed the mood~ I was about to rock your world man." A flash smile and he darts before Gilbert can throw anything at him.
While Mathias rummaged through his side table for his box of condoms and the container of lube, Gilbert takes to playing with himself again, might as well keep the heat up, especially seeing for some reason the house temperature isn't rising.
Mathias all but sprints back to the living room, items in hand, and flops heavily back onto the couch, he makes a pouty face when he sees Gilbert stroking himself again.
"Can't you at least wait?! You're the one that wanted these!"
"That's damn right. At least I'm not the idiot not thinking about our safety, or do you not wanna keep having sex with me?"
Silence, and a mumbled complaint he didn't catch, but then his legs are back to being lifted over Mathias' shoulders.
"So, where were we?" The normal bright smile now replaced with the Dane's own version of a seductive grin.
Mathias tears the wrapping with his teeth and a single hand, having kept his other one on Gilbert's thigh. The Prussian's slightly impressed at how good the other man had gotten at rolling a condom on, the way he strokes himself, the concentration on his face as he assures it's on all the way, so as to know it won't slip off.
It's always funny once it's on and Gil wants to make a crack about it this time, but he's so hot that it would only waste more time that they could otherwise be fucking. And the Dane above him looks like a God once he catches him looking over him, peppering his feet and ankles with kisses, running his hands up and down the side of his legs, and when he goes to stroke his member against Gil's, the spark that races up his spine has his eyes blurring.
Hot. Fingers circling; thick. Probing; in, out, deeper, pulled to the tip, widening, scissoring, thumbing the edges. One finger; two. Three fingers. Whimpering, whining; writhing. Back arching, legs quiver. Teasing.
"You ready? I'm entering now."
Mathias removes his fingers. A gasp. Then a moan; deep, like a growl. Breathing; heavy. Labored.
Mathias starts with just the tip, allows for Gilbert to get accustomed to the larger intrusion, once relaxed, he thrusts deeper.
Another moan. Higher pitched; music to his ears, Gilbert's voice, Gilbert's sound when he's like this, it's so damn erotic, so damn alluring, Mathias can't handle it.
He grips Gil's leg tighter, and moves to place his other hand on Gil's hip, and pulling himself out to the head; he stalls. As soon as he hears Gil's coo of protest to the emptiness, he thrusts into him again, deep; hard.
And repeats. Short thrusts, to longer ones, each eliciting a song from Gil's mouth that Mathias can't get enough of. Slower, faster, pumping him so hard the sound of the Prussian's ass clapping against his thighs vibrates over his lower body, sending tingles into his stomach.
He wants to climax but doesn't want to stop thrusting, the feeling too amazing to want to end so quickly. But as he knew the position would do, his legs and thighs are wearing out, so he leans down over Gil, laying more over him; placing the weight of himself on his knees, moving his hands to guide Gilbert's legs to wrap them around his waist. Once he does that however, Gil takes it into his hands to add his own rhythm.
Pulling himself up into Mathias more as he thrusts into him, deepening his access to some of Gil's more sensitive spots, into that spot and before he can even warn Mathias he reaches his peak.
Mathias is only taken aback by it in his mind, his body doesn't react to Gilbert's climax, and he continues to thrust, he's not too far behind however, as his pace quickens. Gilbert takes Mathias into a deep kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck and running a hand into his hair, gripping the back of his head as they twist tongues, nip each other's lips and as Mathias reaches his own climax, Gilbert works in some small, quick, bites along the other man's neck, shoulders and chest.
As he finishes the Dane rolls over to squish himself into the small space between Gil and the back of the couch. Laying on his side and wrapping his arm around his partner, keeping Gil from falling off the edge.
He runs his hands up Gil's back, making small shapes with his fingers lazily, while Gil works small kisses on his neck. He hears his partner take in a loud whiff to smell his skin and almost asks what Gil was doing, but he didn't have the chance.
"I've been thinking since earlier, you kind of smell like wood; it's mixed in weirdly with the beer and cigarette smoke from the bar we were at. Why is that?" The Prussian wraps his arms around Mathias' waist and looks at him, his question lingering in his curious eyes.
"Oh, that. Actually, I knew you'd come over here tonight, and I had hoped we'd do this, but my heaters been busted since yesterday and it's not gonna be fixed until this weekend, so I cleaned out that old fireplace and thought, well, after we relaxed in our afterglow, I'd light a fire, make us some coffee, or hot chocolate if you want, and we can lay here, together, and enjoy our time off."
Mathias smiled, his classic big bright Danish smile and for a second it threw him for a loop, something like that, just sounded so; wonderful.
"I was wondering why your house has been so fucking cold this whole time. You should have lit the fire first!"
Gil nuzzled his head into Mathias' shoulder again, tightened his hold around his waist and closed his eyes.
"You can light that fire in a bit, for now, this is just fine."
Mathias let out a chuckle, grabbed the blanket that hung over the back of his couch, tucked it around him and his partner, and kissed the top of Gilbert's hair.
Warm. He smelled lightly of beer and cigarettes. Like sweat; and oddly enough, he smelled like home.