A/N: Above was part 5, sorry about that! (This ALWAYS happens lmao)
--
Shaun was not a callous lover, however, despite the need to rush. He diligently kept stroking Desmond and whispering for him to relax at his ear, grunting and cursing and telling Desmond how good he was, how tight he was.
The burn never faded completely, but it was not utterly unpleasant, especially with the noises Shaun was trying to stifle as he drew closer and closer to orgasm. It was one thing to have Shaun breathless, but quite another to have him whimpering, so unlike his usual self. And his strokes had finally coaxed his hard-on to return, something that had slowly but effectively blocked out the majority of the pain, and allowed Desmond to experience pleasure.
With an impatient swat, Desmond shoved Shaun's hand away and took himself into his own hand, familiar with his own desires. Shaun didn't seem to mind, instead concentrating on pounding into Desmond as hard and as fast as he possibly could. It was hot and sweaty and beyond rough against the stone and open air, but they were both getting laid for the first time in weeks and this was far too gone along for them to find any fault with it.
"Des--Desmond," Shaun gasped, his glasses askew. "I'm -- close --" His hands were both on Desmond's hips, tight enough that they were very much likely leaving bruises, his pants around his ankles, driving in so hard that it was almost painful for him in the most delightful way--
"Merde," Desmond slipped Itallian around his teeth, but could hardly care, his eyes closed so tight that they burned, his hand fast and brutal against his stiff member--
They did not come simultaneously, but it hardly mattered.
Shaun shuddered violently against Desmond, sinking his teeth into the fabric of Desmond's hoodie at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, muffling his hoarse cry as he came. His hips snapped forward once, twice, four times before finally slowing down, rolling with him to a final stop. His jaws were stiff when he finally let go of his impromptu gag, and his breath was coming in short.
Desmond continued to jerk himself off, half-sobbing into his own wrist as he got closer, a wrist which was already dribbling with blood. He finally splurted out a smaller (but no less violent) load onto the wall as Shaun extracted himself from his arse, which caused Shaun to momentarily wince because of how tight the muscle contracts were against his waning erection.
Shaun was careful to keep a hold of the condom as he moved his hips away, so it wouldn't roll off, until he finally freed his prick. Desmond's legs finally did give out then, and he collapsed to his knees on the cobbled ground, hands shaking upon the wall, head resting against it.
"You okay?" Shaun asked, out of breath, a tentative hand on Desmond's shoulder where he'd bit him. The indentations of his teeth were still visible against the white cloth of the hood.
"Yeah," Desmond exhaled, and turned his head with a small, teary grin. "That was good."
"Not to break the moment, but we should be getting back," Shaun said, hitching up his pants and underwear, and zipping up. His hands were still a tad bit shaky. The condom he'd knotted up and discarded deeper into the alley with a practiced swing. What? It would hardly be missed.
"Yeah," Desmond nodded, but his legs felt like jello. "Uh… could you help me?"
Shaun raised an eyebrow, having been fixing the collar of his shirt. He looked so fucking posh and god damn British that Desmond wanted to snort, but he held it back. "Pretty please?" he smiled helplessly, and raised a hand.
Shaun caught his hand with his own, and between the two of them, they managed to get Desmond to his feet. "You made a mess of your arm," Shaun muttered, taking a closer look. A neat and rather vivid imprint of Desmond's teeth circled the side of Desmond's wrist, dotted with drops of blood. Shaun absentmindedly stroked Desmond's palm, a frown evident on his face. "We should get it disinfected when we get back."
"I've had worse," Desmond shrugged, and, taking back his hand, did up his pants.
Privacy, please [6/7]
--
Shaun was not a callous lover, however, despite the need to rush. He diligently kept stroking Desmond and whispering for him to relax at his ear, grunting and cursing and telling Desmond how good he was, how tight he was.
The burn never faded completely, but it was not utterly unpleasant, especially with the noises Shaun was trying to stifle as he drew closer and closer to orgasm. It was one thing to have Shaun breathless, but quite another to have him whimpering, so unlike his usual self. And his strokes had finally coaxed his hard-on to return, something that had slowly but effectively blocked out the majority of the pain, and allowed Desmond to experience pleasure.
With an impatient swat, Desmond shoved Shaun's hand away and took himself into his own hand, familiar with his own desires. Shaun didn't seem to mind, instead concentrating on pounding into Desmond as hard and as fast as he possibly could. It was hot and sweaty and beyond rough against the stone and open air, but they were both getting laid for the first time in weeks and this was far too gone along for them to find any fault with it.
"Des--Desmond," Shaun gasped, his glasses askew. "I'm -- close --" His hands were both on Desmond's hips, tight enough that they were very much likely leaving bruises, his pants around his ankles, driving in so hard that it was almost painful for him in the most delightful way--
"Merde," Desmond slipped Itallian around his teeth, but could hardly care, his eyes closed so tight that they burned, his hand fast and brutal against his stiff member--
They did not come simultaneously, but it hardly mattered.
Shaun shuddered violently against Desmond, sinking his teeth into the fabric of Desmond's hoodie at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, muffling his hoarse cry as he came. His hips snapped forward once, twice, four times before finally slowing down, rolling with him to a final stop. His jaws were stiff when he finally let go of his impromptu gag, and his breath was coming in short.
Desmond continued to jerk himself off, half-sobbing into his own wrist as he got closer, a wrist which was already dribbling with blood. He finally splurted out a smaller (but no less violent) load onto the wall as Shaun extracted himself from his arse, which caused Shaun to momentarily wince because of how tight the muscle contracts were against his waning erection.
Shaun was careful to keep a hold of the condom as he moved his hips away, so it wouldn't roll off, until he finally freed his prick. Desmond's legs finally did give out then, and he collapsed to his knees on the cobbled ground, hands shaking upon the wall, head resting against it.
"You okay?" Shaun asked, out of breath, a tentative hand on Desmond's shoulder where he'd bit him. The indentations of his teeth were still visible against the white cloth of the hood.
"Yeah," Desmond exhaled, and turned his head with a small, teary grin. "That was good."
"Not to break the moment, but we should be getting back," Shaun said, hitching up his pants and underwear, and zipping up. His hands were still a tad bit shaky. The condom he'd knotted up and discarded deeper into the alley with a practiced swing. What? It would hardly be missed.
"Yeah," Desmond nodded, but his legs felt like jello. "Uh… could you help me?"
Shaun raised an eyebrow, having been fixing the collar of his shirt. He looked so fucking posh and god damn British that Desmond wanted to snort, but he held it back. "Pretty please?" he smiled helplessly, and raised a hand.
Shaun caught his hand with his own, and between the two of them, they managed to get Desmond to his feet. "You made a mess of your arm," Shaun muttered, taking a closer look. A neat and rather vivid imprint of Desmond's teeth circled the side of Desmond's wrist, dotted with drops of blood. Shaun absentmindedly stroked Desmond's palm, a frown evident on his face. "We should get it disinfected when we get back."
"I've had worse," Desmond shrugged, and, taking back his hand, did up his pants.