“Emerson,” he panted. “Please. I’m so worked up I’m gonna die.”
Emerson laughed around Luca’s underwear before he pulled away and finally freed Luca’s dick from the fabric. “Relatable, Luca.”
And then he had mercy, and ran his tongue up the underside, his fist wrapping around the base, until finally he took as much of Luca into his mouth as he could. Which wasn’t super deep; Emerson’s gag reflex was still too strong. So while he wasn’t as much of a slut about blowjobs as Luca was, if anything, it touched Luca even more that he still offered them at all. And he always made them good—what he couldn’t do in depth he made up for in wetness, always getting his hand covered in spit so that, his fist and his mouth working in tandem, it still felt fucking incredible.
“Love your hands,” Luca mumbled, moving his hips so he was just barely fucking Emerson’s face, the way they both liked it. “Love your lips.” This he could say, this he could do;he could list every single attribute of Emerson he loved while they were like this. “Not gonna last long, baby.”
Emerson hummed, increasing his rhythm while his free hand squeezed Luca’s ass. Luca brushed his fingertips over Emerson’s cheek, losing his breath, trying not to cry.
“Emerson,” he warned. Emerson wasn’t good at swallowing either, which was fine, which was totally fucking okay, because?—
Emerson pulled off just before Luca exploded, closing his eyes as Luca came all over his face and neck.
“Oh fuck.” Luca sank to the floor immediately, taking control of his dick, holding himself through aftershocks as Emerson caught his breath, mouth open, eyes still closed. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you let me do that.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “I’m pretty sure you’re good; just give me one second.”
When his shirt was off and he could see clearly again, he examined Emerson more closely. “Yeah, your eyes are safe. You can open them if you want.” He started cleaning Emerson off with his shirt. Most of it was on his chin, his neck, the collar of his own shirt. Emerson’s eyes fluttered open, his lips smiling.
“I like that you think it’s hot,” he said, voice hoarse.
Luca paused. “It’s hot to you, too, though, right? Because I don’t have to?—”
“Luca.” Emerson’s smile grew crooked. “Literally every single thing you do is hot.”
“Okay.” Luca bit his lip as he continued his work. “If you’re sure.”
Emerson leaned forward and kissed him, before Luca was even sure he’d gotten it all. His grasp on his t-shirt grew limp as the kiss stretched, soft and open-mouthed. Luca released a low, happy moan, every cell in his body loose and content.
“You’re gonna have to wash your shirt,” he mumbled into Emerson’s lips.
“Yours too,” Emerson smiled back.
“Emerson,” Luca said. “Take me home now.”
It waspossible Luca fell asleep on the way there. He’d given Emerson the keys before they’d left the cabin, knowing he was still too drunk from the orgasm, too overwhelmed from the day to fully trust himself behind the wheel. But he trusted Emerson to get them back to the farm safely. He’d trust Emerson with anything.
He was still a bit of a ragdoll when Emerson nudged him awake, when he rolled out of the car, shirtless, leaning against Emerson’s side for support. He kept leaning there as Emerson unlocked the door, as he flicked on the lights, as he took Luca’s shirt from his hands and tossed it in the direction of the washer and dryer. The moment they entered Emerson’s room—theirroom? No, Luca could still only think of it as Emerson’s room—Luca finally stood fully upright long enough to push Emerson onto the bed.
Emerson released a startled laugh as he fell, ass first, onto the mattress. But when Luca climbed on after him, straddling Emerson’s thighs with his knees, leaning down for a kiss—Emerson pushed a hand against his chest, stopping him.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Luca. You’re exhausted. We can just sleep.”
Luca shook his head. “I’m awake now. I want—” He swallowed. Maybe it was a sign, actually, that hewastoo exhausted, because tears almost pricked at his eyes again when he thought about what he wanted. “We can sleep forever immediately after, but I really want you inside me.”
“Okay.” Emerson lowered his hand from Luca’s chest, leaned up for a soft kiss. “Okay. Do you want to use your toy again?”
“Yeah.” Damn, Luca hated the logistics of this sometimes. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.” Another kiss, more sweet than anything. “I’ll be right back.”
When he did return fifteen minutes later, Emerson smiled at him from the bed, where he’d been scrolling on his phone. He put it down, motioning Luca forward, taking the items from his hands that would now live in this room. He positioned Luca’s languid body onto its stomach, kissed down his back until his mouth met Luca’s ass. Luca had actually forgotten he’d demanded this, his breath hitching at the first sensation of Emerson’s tongue, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.
Still, after only a short amount of time, he started to feel vulnerable. Emerson’s body was too far away. He needed him closer.
“Emerson,” he said. “It’s so good, but can we move on to the next part?”
Emerson kissed his way up Luca’s back. “Of course,” he said, voice almost a whisper as Luca shifted himself onto his side. Emerson focused his kisses on Luca’s shoulder as he started: with his fingers, with Luca’s toy, his body close now, warm, even if it still didn’t feel close enough. They were quiet, other than groans from Luca, murmured “Okay?”s from Emerson. As if the rest of the day had used up all their words. As if they both understood that all they needed now was this.
Until Luca asked for Emerson to move on again. “Just you,” he said, trying to arch himself closer to Emerson’s torso. “Please.”
Emerson moved slowly when he eased in. Until finally, finally, Emerson was as close as Luca needed him. Until Emerson was right there, behind him, inside him, part of him, and Luca groaned in contentment.
