Phil sucked in a little breath and let the last thing stopping him--doubt, fear, embarrassment--fall away. Sliding an arm around Clint's waist, he grabbed him and pushed him down against the couch, moving his own body on top of him. There was a twinge of pain from the left side of his chest, but he ignored it. He was doing more important things now.
The kiss this time was deep, firm, and he coaxed Clint's mouth open without hesitation. Now that he'd been given permission, it was like he was moving through an entire library of muscle memory that he'd been slowly building in the back of his mind: Things I Want To Do To Clint, Pt. 1. His knees settled on either side of Clint's hips, and he ground down as he kissed him, making himself gasp against Clint's lips. His fingers tangled in Clint's hair: half-caressing, half-pulling. There was something achingly intimate about doing thing on a couch, in a farmhouse, while he was in his pajamas and Clint was in his underwear.
His other hand moved down to explore Clint's chest, his arms--Phil spent a while touching his arms, stroking them, feeling the ripple of muscles he knew so well on sight. Then finally he moved back to his chest again, sliding his hand under the t-shirt to touch the lines of muscle and ribs, and carefully thumbing the two hardening nubs that sat a bit higher. He felt like he could stay like this all night, just devouring Clint with his hands and his mouth.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-05-20 04:53 pm (UTC)The kiss this time was deep, firm, and he coaxed Clint's mouth open without hesitation. Now that he'd been given permission, it was like he was moving through an entire library of muscle memory that he'd been slowly building in the back of his mind: Things I Want To Do To Clint, Pt. 1. His knees settled on either side of Clint's hips, and he ground down as he kissed him, making himself gasp against Clint's lips. His fingers tangled in Clint's hair: half-caressing, half-pulling. There was something achingly intimate about doing thing on a couch, in a farmhouse, while he was in his pajamas and Clint was in his underwear.
His other hand moved down to explore Clint's chest, his arms--Phil spent a while touching his arms, stroking them, feeling the ripple of muscles he knew so well on sight. Then finally he moved back to his chest again, sliding his hand under the t-shirt to touch the lines of muscle and ribs, and carefully thumbing the two hardening nubs that sat a bit higher. He felt like he could stay like this all night, just devouring Clint with his hands and his mouth.