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Sebastian finds himself face down, hips canted up, with his chest pressed against nondescript sheets. It’s not a situation, or position, he expected to find himself in. Yet, here he is. Thighs spread so wide that he winces from a twinge that will settle into an ache he’ll feel for days as Charles ruts into him with purpose.
The honeyed praises dripping past Charles’ lips are at odds with the bruising grip he has on Sebastian’s waist and the ruthless pace of his thrusts.
It’s laughable, really. Getting fucked over by Ferrari and then fucked into the mattress by the very person who will inherit from his departure. And even after all that, Charles still wants more from him. Just wants to take, take, take. What’s actually more concerning is how much of himself Sebastian is ready to give. Has already given. He’s complicit in his own ruin.
Sebastian feels dizzy from the heat, from his own desire. Slack-jawed and panting, he rubs his face against the sheets. He’s drooling a bit, can’t help himself to be honest.
He muffles a whine at a particularly harsh thrust, and then lifts his head up long enough to gasp out: “F-Fuck, Charl—Easy, easy.”
Hands stroke over his waist in apology. Charles eases up a bit, but the pace isn’t any less teeth gritting. Sebastian just claws at the bedsheet until he manages to bunch some of it into a white knuckled grip and hold on.
It’s taking a lot out of him to keep his quivering thighs from collapsing. His arms had given up on him a while ago, but Charles has kept his torso up, forcing him to take it. Charles’ fingers and thumb dig into his waist with the promise of bruises. He’s holding onto Sebastian so tight, like there’s a possibility of Sebastian being ripped away from his clutches if he doesn’t hold on hard enough. It’s possessive, almost.
Sebastian doesn’t want to dwell on what that might mean.
“Seb,” Charles breathes out. He almost sounds as debauched as Sebastian feels.
“Seb, I…” Charles starts again, panting, and then trails off, like he can’t quite manage to maintain his train of thought. It’s flattering, in a way, that Charles seems to have forgotten everything else but his name.
That’s alright though, it’s not like Sebastian’s managing any better. He’s been fucked brainless. To the point that whatever Charles follows up with, it doesn’t register in Sebastian’s fucked out brain. He can only blink and manage out, “Huh?”
“Seb,” Charles whines, needy and petulant. “Is it—Am I doing good?”
So starved for praise. He’s always seeking Sebastian’s approval, which continues to bemuse Sebastian. It’s not like Sebastian’s in a position to be held in such esteem, given the circumstances with his eventual departure. Nor does Charles need it. He’s been faring far better than Sebastian, anyway. He’s, also, more mature than Sebastian had been at this age.
When Sebastian doesn’t reply, Charles fucks into him harder, all but demanding an answer.
The reply feels like it’s punched out of him. Sebastian gasps. Voice strained and breathless, he forces himself to speak, “Yes! F-Fucking hell, yes.” He grits his teeth at the mind numbing assault on his prostate. His cock drools out pre-come after pre-come. “So perfect, such a good boy for me.”
The praise riles up Charles like nothing else. He comes alive and fucks into Sebasastian so hard, so right, that Sebastian’s knees almost give out under him. A yelp gets strangled in Sebastian’s throat and his vision blanks for a moment.
Lips parted helplessly, Sebastian struggles to get air into his lungs. Oh God, he’s drooling again.
“Slow down! Shit—” Sebastian swallows back a humiliating whimper.
Charles, the fucking menace of a tease, slowly draws out of him, letting him feel every inch of the drag, and then punches his way back in. “Ungh!” Sebastian grunts, body seizing up. His prostate feels swollen from the abuse. His cock definitely likes it because it’s hard and throbbing; copious pre-come heaves out of the puckered slit, making a mess of the bed.
“Like that?” Charles asks with faux innocence, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. In other circumstances, Sebastian’s competitive tendency would have made him want to take him down a peg or two, but right now he’s getting fucked too good to care.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian pants, keening. “Just like that.”
There’s a familiar build-up of tension inside of him. Sebastian lets out breathy little moans of encouragement. They coalesce with the wet squelch of excessive lube and the crude smacks of skin against skin as Charles ruts into him, again and again and again. Charles isn’t unaffected either, he’s letting out ragged pants and groans of his own.
It’s all very obscene, and Sebastian’s so, so very close. He rocks back on Charles’ cock. And when that isn’t enough, he tries to drop his hips down to rub his aching cock against the sheets, desperate for the slightest friction, anything, that will push him over the edge.
But he doesn’t get to.
“Charles, what?” Sebastian says, ruffled and affronted, as Charles digs his fingers into the soft flesh of his waist, holding him still. Sebastian squirms and wiggles, trying to get Charles to budge to no avail. “Please, I just need a little…”
Charles just tuts at him. “No, no, I told you, you only get to come from my cock.”
And with that said, Charles lets his weight fall onto Sebastian. He drapes himself over Sebastian’s back until Sebastian is pushed completely against the bed. Sebastian can only let out a sound like all the air has left his lungs. Charles slots their bodies together, flesh against flesh, covering as much of Sebastian as possible, like he wants to mesh into him and settle under his skin, until Sebastian can’t tell what’s his and what’s Charles’.
The new angle causes Charles’ cock to dig into his prostate. Sebastian’s eyes widen and a strangled gasp rips out of his throat. He claws frantically at the sheets.
Charles coos, “Sorry, Mon Chéri, was that too much?” He kisses the back of Sebastian’s head.
Sebastian nods, whining.
“That’s too bad”—Charles nips at the shell of his ear—"Because I want to hear you make that sound again. It was too cute.”
He repositions himself and fucks into Sebastian anew.
“Mmph—!”
Sebastian lets out an aborted cry. He drags one of the pillows and uses it to muffle himself. He bites into it, drooling a bit. He feels delirious with the desire that rushes crimson through his veins. He can’t believe it’s possible for his body to feel this much. It’s almost too much.
“Charles, please,” Sebastian says, voice wet. He continues to babble something nonsensical. He’s mindless with pleasure. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say at this point, just can't help but speak.
“Shh, I’ve got you; I’ve got you.” Charles’ hands find his, interlocking their fingers together in an uncompromising hold. Sebastian is grateful for it; it gives him something to anchor himself to. Sebastian can feel Charles’ warm breath brush the back of his neck, followed by soft lips and the faint scratch of stubble as Charles mouths sloppily along his shoulder. Charles fits his teeth into an already sore bruise he’d sucked near his shoulder blade, and Sebastian hisses and then moans as Charles accentuates it.
It reminds him of how Charles had sucked bruises all over his back, tracing the knobs of his spine with his tongue. He’d held Sebastian down no matter how much he’d squirmed and gasped and pleaded, then raked blunt nails down his back, forcing Sebastian to deepen the arch of his back. It had made Sebastian realize that there's a cruel bone in Charles after all. He didn’t think he had it in him. It wouldn’t be the last time Charles would prove his presumptions wrong.
Charles continues to bear down on him, pinning him in place as he fucks into him with power laced behind each thrust. Sebastian feels held down and claimed, utterly ravaged to be exact. He can only let out winded, punched out sounds that are interspersed with unintelligible expletives.
Gradually, his breathing becomes sharper and tension lines his entire body. His orgasm is so close, just barely out of reach. Need burns under his skin. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and he can feel a drop of sweat trailing down his temple.
“Fuck, fuck, Seb, you feel so good. I’m going to come,” Charles pants. “Going to fill you up.”
Charles rubs his cheek against Sebastian’s back, pressing a kiss there.
“Going to eat it out of you…Or, maybe, I should fuck you again while you’re still dripping with my come. What do you think?”
And the thought of that just makes Sebastian groan. He can feel the wet patch underneath him grow larger. His cheeks flush.
“You like that?”
“Yeah,” Sebastian breathes out, finding himself admitting it in spite of himself.
Charles' thrusts are increasingly erratic and frantic now that he’s close, and Sebastian spreads his thighs wider to make the onslaught easier on himself. The quiver in his thighs gets progressively worse with each insistent thrust against his prostate. His hip muscles clench fiercely and then relax, only to clench again. He can’t keep still. His fucking left foot keeps quivering and twitching, toes flexing, no matter how much he tries to keep it in control.
Sebastian yelps when Charles sinks his teeth into the junction of his neck without preamble, coming inside of him with a debauched, animalistic groan. Sebastian feels claimed from inside and out. Charles continues to rut into Sebastian a few more times, showering Sebastian with kisses and praises while he’s at it.
Sebastian’s own orgasm that was on the precipice peters out without a bang as Charles pulls out of him. Sebastian makes a desperate wounded noise as he twitches and spasms, hips humping against the sheets without volition. A measly amount of ejaculate dribbles out of his cock, and Sebastian can’t help but squeeze down around nothing, feeling hollowed without Charles’ cock. It causes some of Charles’ come to push out of him, making him whine.
He feels delirious with the need to come. “What, Charles? No, no, please, I need to come.”
Charles manoeuvres Sebastian until he’s on his back.
“Don’t worry, darling, you’ll get to come,” Charles says. He runs his palms over Sebastian’s flank, caressing sweat-damp skin soothingly until Sebastian’s trembling wanes. “I’ll take care of you.”
He continues to map Sebastian’s torso with reverence, like his appetite can’t be sated no matter how much he touches. He traces the plains of Sebastian’s stomach and gently scratches the wiry hairs of his happy trail. Sebastian can still feel the ghost of his touch in his wake as he carries on.
“Oh, Seb,” Charles sighs out like he’s uttering a prayer. There’s too much emotion behind just those two words alone, and Sebastian’s breath catches in his throat when he sees the expression on Charles’ face.
Charles has a tendency of wearing his emotions on his sleeve, has yet to learn to guard his true feelings zealously. And right now, the way he’s looking at Sebastian is almost too earnest, heart utterly laid bare. He’s staring intently as if in awe, like he wants to devour him, like the thought of having Sebastian like this isn’t enough, that he must consume him whole and possess him in his entirety.
Sebastian fidgets and squirms, resisting the urge to fiddle with his own heated ears. He doesn’t know how to handle being the recipient of such unabashed devotion.
Several years back, he would’ve preened under the attention, even put himself further on display just to tease. But that self-assured brattiness has since then been snubbed out. Now he just feels inadequate instead and finds himself getting shy.
He raises an arm over his eyes to shield himself.
Charles protests straight away in that loud way of his. “Seb,” he says, whining yet firm. Sebastian can’t seem to settle on whether he loves or hates the way Charles pronounces it with his accent, making it into two syllables. “I want to see you.”
That’s another tendency of Charles, to demand things of Sebastian, as if it’s a given that Sebastian will give in just because he’s said it. Sebastian doesn’t know whether it’s something born out of people actually bending over backwards to fulfil his every whim just because he’s batted his lashes, or it’s a weakness he detects in Sebastian.
And just because Sebastian really can’t seem to deny him anything, he pulls his arm away with a resigned sigh.
Charles smiles beatifically. “There you are.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” Sebastian grumbles.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
Charles giggles at that, dimples on full display. His angelic countenance is misleading, because the sweetness of his smile is a sharp contrast to the predatory hunger of his gaze. “But I kind of do want to eat you,” Charles says. His tone takes on provocative intent. “Especially here.”
Sebastian almost jolts up the bed as Charles reaches between his thighs to press his fingers against his tender, swollen rim. Charles smears the come that had trailed out all over it, and Sebastian’s hole twitches pathetically, desperate for him to sink his fingers in.
“Mein Gott, Charles,” Sebastian groans, overwhelmed. Charles never fails to surprise him. This fucking menace is going to be his undoing, he’s sure of it.
Pre-come dribbles out of his cock and spills down the length to pool amongst the blond, wispy fuzz. Sebastian wishes he could squeeze his thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He’s so hard it almost hurts.
Charles finally eases two fingers in, and Sebastian’s lips part to release a soft moan of approval. His rim gives way easily, practically swallowing them up.
“Oh, um,” Sebastian says, fidgeting a bit as Charles pushes them in and out, testing the waters. Sebastian can’t help but squeeze down around them, wanting to keep them in.
Charles huffs out an amused sound. “Greedy for it, aren’t you?” He comments almost idly. It still makes Sebastian’s ears and cheeks flush.
Sebastian tenses and then spasms as Charles rubs against his swollen prostate. “Fuck,” he moans. It’s followed by a shuddering gasp when Charles does it again. “Oh, fuck.”
Just this much already has his hips jerking with him breathless and babbling out, “Yes, yes, please.”
He’s been on the edge for too long.
Charles continues to plough his fingers into his loose hole until Sebastian is stiff and quivering, close to losing his mind. Charles seems to have forgotten himself, appearing transfixed by the sight of his fingers disappearing into Sebastian, only to come out slicked with lube and a sheathe of his own come.
Charles takes out his come-slick fingers and leans over Sebastian to nudge them against his lips. “Here, clean them.” Sebastian parts his lips obediently, grateful to have something in his mouth to prevent himself from saying something pathetic. They both let out simultaneous twin moans as Sebastian sucks on them, eyes half-lidded, replacing the come with spit.
“Fuck,” Charles curses, sounding utterly debauched. He lets his fingers slip out of Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian doesn’t get an opportunity to complain because Charles grips his jaw almost painfully to seize him into a searing, filthy kiss. It’s slow and dirty and wet, their tongues sliding against each other in a way that makes them both groan appreciatively.
Charles breaks the kiss to nip at Sebastian’s bottom lip.
“Fuck, okay,” Charles breathes out against Sebastian’s lips like he’s trying to compose himself. “I’m going to eat you out and then I’m going to fuck you again. Okay?”
“Yup, yeah, sure,” Sebastian replies dumbly, brain malfunctioning from the brazen statement. He can’t help but make light of the situation as a resort. “You’re a man with a plan.”
“Seb, please, you’re terrible with your jokes.” In spite of his words, Charles’ lips are curved up at the corners, clearly amused. He’s truly bad at hiding his emotions.
Sebastian holds himself back from pointing out that Charles still laughs at them like he’s said the most hilarious thing. Well, most of the time anyway.
Charles settles himself back down between Sebastian’s legs, and Sebastian spreads them wider, making room for him. As Charles gets comfortable, Sebastian can’t help but think he looks at home between his thighs, which might be a bit of a ridiculous thought to have.
“Oh, wow,” Charles says, smoothing his palms over Sebastian’s splayed thighs, petting him.
Sebastian’s hips shift as he fidgets. He feels too exposed like this. He almost feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe, and has to make himself let out a drawn-out, shuddering exhale; the act somehow feels unnatural.
“I still can’t believe I get to have you like this,” Charles continues, sounding awed. He’s making it seem like Sebastian is doing him a favour by letting him do this.
Sebastian feels overwhelmed all of a sudden, like his heart is in his throat. He’s pretty sure his entire face is hot. His ears are definitely burning. He reaches up to pinch the shell of his right ear.
“Charles, get on with it,” he says eventually, just to get him to stop looking at him like that.
“I’ve noticed…” Charles starts off and then trails, still a little distracted by the sight between Sebastian’s legs. He seems incapable of tearing his gaze away. “You get grumpy when you’re shy. It’s cute.”
“Charles.”
“Okay, okay”—Charles finally looks up, not in any particular hurry. He nudges at Sebastian’s legs— “Hold them up for me, please.”
Charles has a distinctive ability to give Sebastian whiplash. One moment, he’s brazen and assertive, the next he’s extremely polite. Despite the innumerable hours they’ve spent together, Charles is still an enigma of sorts for Sebastian—bit of an oddball, really. But Sebastian can’t deny that Charles’ eccentric-ness adds to his charm.
Sebastian complies dutifully. He tucks his legs up towards his stomach, cupping his hands under his knees to hold them there.
Fuck, okay, he thinks with a puffed exhale, bracing himself. He blinks up at the ceiling and just lets himself breathe. The restlessness of his fingers as he digs blunt nails into the sensitive skin of the underside of his knees shatters the composed front he’s trying to put up.
He barely holds back a flinch as Charles touches him. It’s so quiet that he can hear the hitch in Charles’ breath as he gently uses his thumbs to pull his cheeks apart.
Charles lets out an unabashed groan, one that’s so wanton that it elicits warmth to rush south Sebastian’s belly. “Fuck, Seb, I can’t tell you enough how good you look right now, filled with my come.”
Charles dips closer and the warm breath of his exhale over his hole sends shivers up Sebastian’s spine. Sebastian can’t help but tense up in anticipation.
“No, no, Seb, relax, I’m going to make you feel so good, don’t worry.” Charles caresses soothing circles over Sebastian’s thighs.
He eases Sebastian into it with long, languid licks using the flat of his tongue. The first touch of his wet tongue makes Sebastian suck in a sharp inhale, his eyes widening. He forces himself to relax as much as he can, which isn’t a lot.
He’s hyper aware of the sensation of Charles cleaning up the dried trails of come between his cheeks and over his hole. Sebastian bites back a whimper. His hole is already tender from the rough fucking it had endured, so every lick feels amplified.
Charles’ stubble tickles at sensitive skin, and Sebastian’s thighs squirm until Charles’ tightens his grip, keeping him still. Sebastian knows his skin is going to be irritated and more sensitive tomorrow, constantly reminding him of today’s activities.
And he’ll definitely need the reminder because all of this almost feels like a fever dream. Even his wildest fantasies would’ve never allowed him to conjure up Charles eating his own come off of him.
Charles licks insistently at his hole, coaxing it to relax enough for him to slip his tongue inside.
“Oh.” Sebastian’s lips shape around the syllable, his eyebrows furrowing at the sensation of something soft and wet inside of him.
Charles keeps at it, working up to a steady rhythm as licks into Sebastian in earnest.
Gradually, his perseverance starts to pay off. Sebastian finds himself getting used to the strangeness of the sensation. As he sheds more and more of his reservations along the way and allows himself to just let go and enjoy it, it actually starts to feel nice. Almost ticklish, in a pleasant sort of way. It even has him letting out a sound that’s something between a sigh and a moan.
Charles pulls back long enough to offer reassurance: “Yes, good. Just like that. I promise you it’ll feel really nice when you’re all relaxed.”
His words imply that Charles has experience with this before. It evokes conflicting emotions inside Sebastian. The thought of Charles getting eaten out makes his cock twitch, but at the same time, Charles already having experienced something this intimate with someone else makes his chest sink, which is an unwarranted feeling to have considering their relationship isn’t like that.
Charles pinches his thigh, and the sharp pain snaps Sebastian out of it. He almost squeaks. “I can tell you’re overthinking this again. Just let yourself go.”
Charles dips back to press a lingering, open-mouthed kiss against Sebastian’s hole, which elicits a shocked sound out of Sebastian. His toes curl at the feeling of that hot mouth pressed against him so firmly like that.
“Charles,” Sebastian gasps, breathless and in disbelief almost, as Charles does it again. It feels indecent to be kissed down there, which just adds to the thrill. His cock definitely likes it because it swells, pulsing out pre-come from the slit.
Like he’s out to make Sebastian lose his mind, Charles keeps his parted lips against his hole and sucks. The moan that crawls up Sebastian’s throat feels like it’s wrenched out of him.
Emboldened by Sebastian’s enthusiastic response, Charles ups his tactics. He gets right up in there, digging his thumbs into Sebastian’s cheeks to open him as wide as possible. His nose presses against Sebastian’s perineum as he thrusts his tongue in as deep as possible.
Sebastian makes an appreciative noise. “Oh, yeah, um, yes, that’s nice.”
Charles hums pleasantly in acknowledgement and then begins to tongue-fuck Sebastian in a way that has Sebastian’s thighs trembling. It’s getting increasingly hard for Sebastian to keep still, his entire body brimming with pent up energy as Charles dedicates himself to his body with so much devotion.
His fervour for eating Sebastian out doesn’t seem to wane, instead it actually seems to increase. He’s almost as vocal as Sebastian, and his enthusiastic moans vibrate into Sebastian’s hole.
Sebastian has never enjoyed getting eaten out before, but Charles’ unabashed enthusiasm has made him lose all his inhibitions. It’s so fucking hot to experience Charles lose his mind over eating him out. Charles is barely coming up to catch his breath, like pleasuring Sebastian is more important than breathing.
Sebastian starts to feel drunk from it all, all light-headed and dazed and lax. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the pillow to bask in the moment, letting out moan after moan after moan.
In his zeal, Charles starts to lose finesse. He’s almost slobbering, making more of a mess of Sebastian than cleaning him up, at this point.
It doesn’t take long for Sebastian to unravel at the seams. He can barely breathe because it feels so good. He’s flushed all the way down to his chest, skin shining with sweat. His clammy hands struggle to keep his trembling thighs up and his cock is weeping profusely to the point there’s a pool of pre-come on his belly.
Charles pulls back, sucking in a large gulp of air. “I’m going to have to admit you’re going to get me addicted to this,” he says in between heaving pants.
Sebastian’s whole-body flushes hot at that. He groans, debauched. “Fucking hell, Charles. You’re going to kill me.”
“Mhm,” Charles utters. He presses kisses over Sebastian’s thigh and sucks a few bruises in between, appearing to use this moment to catch his breath.
When he makes a move to go back down on Sebastian, Sebastian frees his hand to push at Charles.
“Please, enough,” He begs. “No more, just fuck me now, I’m going to lose my—” He breaks outs into a yelp at the sudden intense pain that erupts in his ass cheek.
What the hell? Charles just bit his ass. “Charles,” he admonishes. “I have to sit in the car.”
“Sorry.” Charles sounds sheepish. He licks over the inflamed area in an attempt to soothe. “I couldn’t resist. It is just so soft.”
As if to emphasize, he palms Sebastian’s cheeks, kneading them.
Sebastian kind of wants to give him a slight thwack for that, but unlike Charles he can ignore such whims.
He lets out a sigh instead. “Charles.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to fuck me or not?”
“Yes.”
⨳
As Charles rises up on his knees, Sebastian is exposed to him in all his glory. Charles is in a state, all dishevelled with his eyes blown out. His face is flushed ruddy, lips puffy and wet and shiny. Sebastian can’t help but drink in the sight of him; Charles’ visuals are something straight out of a wet dream. His skin shines with a sheen of sweat, and Sebastian has the urge to lick it off him.
Charles grabs Sebastian’s thighs, and Sebastian lets himself be adjusted to Charles’ liking as Charles spreads his legs further apart, as far as they’ll go. After Charles has made himself comfortable, he looks down at Sebastian, gaze raking over his body, taking everything in. He’s wearing an expression of absolute want.
“My God, just look at you," Charles says, almost awed, his accent thick. “You're just so—So—Fuck, I just can't help it, I just want to be inside you all the time.”
Heat washes down Sebastian’s back at the uninhibited statement. He doesn’t understand how Charles can be so unapologetically expressive about his feelings, his desire, like that.
With averted eyes and flushed ears, Sebastian goads: “Then what are you waiting for? C’mon.”
Charles doesn’t need any more spurring. He steadies his cock with one hand and lines it up against Sebastian’s hole, the head catching against the rim.
A cut-off, broken cry spills out of Sebastian as Charles pushes in. He didn’t think it’d feel this overwhelming, but his insides are tender and more receptive after the initial fucking.
Charles halts midway, concerned, but Sebastian urges him on.
“Keep going, keep going. I’m good. It’s just, um, intense.”
Charles complies, albeit tentatively. Sebastian grits his teeth to keep in any unbidden noise from escaping; it feels like inches of cock are being coaxed into his belly. He distracts himself by noting the changes in Charles’ expression as he sheathes himself completely: the way his expression falls slack, his eyes fluttering. Charles looks beautiful like this, undone by the mere act of pushing into Sebastian.
Charles takes pause now that he’s buried inside completely, probably to recompose himself and give Sebastian a chance to get accustomed.
But Sebastian is impatient. He fidgets, and says, “Charles, move, please.” It’s followed by a moan of appreciation as Charles drags a few inches out, just to fuck back into Sebastian. This thrust is more decisive than the first. It has Sebastian shuddering and gasping, his cock squirting pre-come.
“Oh, fuck, that’s—” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence; his breath whooshes out of him as Charles snaps his hips forward, nailing Sebastian with a particularly well-aimed thrust. Sebastian’s legs jolt in Charles’ hold. He's left wide-eyed and gasping for breath. Sebastian scrambles to hold onto something, fisting his hands in the sheets and tugging.
“Seb.” Charles sounds so wrecked, like he’s the one losing his mind. He’s getting more resolute with each thrust, establishing a ruthless rhythm. It’s like he’s determined to fuck every comprehensible thought out of Sebastian.
“Nnnh,” Sebastian keens and writhes, his back arching. His cock is painfully swollen and almost purple, the head bulbous as its slit parts to spew out more pre-come onto his belly.
“God, you’re so…” Charles utters out, voice strained. “You’re everything I could ever want.”
Sebastian feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He doesn’t know what to do with that admission. It’s too much. He kind of wants to tell Charles to stop saying things like that because he can’t handle much more. He wants to tell Charles his devotion is misplaced; Sebastian doesn’t deserve to be placed on a pedestal.
Instead, all he ends up saying is:
"Charles, please.”
Sebastian’s not sure what he’s pleading for. For Charles to stop saying such things? For Charles to fuck him harder until he can’t think so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Charles’ feelings? Both? He doesn’t know.
Charles takes his words as encouragement to fuck into Sebastian without abandon. He grips Sebastian’s thighs harder the more they tremble.
Sebastian can only let out a litany of pitched “ah”-s.
He feels faint with how much blood is rushing to his cock.
Gradually, the exertion starts to take a toll on Charles. He’s panting out laboured breaths. Sweat dampens his temple, a drop trailing down the high of his cheekbone to fall onto Sebastian’s belly. But his pace is still unwavering.
Charles is fucking into Sebastian so hard that Sebastian’s body jostles against the sheets with each thrust, his very breath getting knocked out of him. Sebastian’s reduced to making these whimpered, punched out grunts. His vision is blurry because he’s getting too fucked out to focus. He has to blink a few times to get his vision to clear, and when he does, he notices that Charles is staring, fixated, at the movement of his chest with each jolt that jars Sebastian’s body. There’s an almost crazed expression on Charles’ face, his eyes dark with desire.
“Fuck, Seb,” Charles grits out. “Wish you could see yourself right now. Tu vas me tuer.”
Charles leans down, almost folding Sebastian in half. This pushes him in deep. Sebastian jolts and yelps; his prostate feels like it’s been squished. He shudders through the squirt his cock spurts out. He’s barely registered the excruciating pleasure when pain shoots through his chest. A hiss escapes him as Charles sinks his teeth into his pec, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave imprints. Sebastian’s mind blanks. It’s like his receptors are floundering on whether to hone in on the pleasure or the pain.
There’re so many contrasting sensations inside Sebastian—the pleasure is painful, and the pain is pleasurable. Sebastian can only clutch at Charles’ shoulders and dig his nails in, leaving marks of his own.
“Please,” Sebastian gasps out, fervent. “I beg of you, it’s too much. I don’t, I can’t.”
Charles had latched onto Sebastian’s nipple. He releases the suction and lets it slip out of his mouth. He huffs out an amused sound. “I have no idea what you’re saying, Seb, you’re speaking in German.”
Sebastian hadn’t even realized it.
He struggles to let out a coherent sentence. In English, this time. “My chest—don’t. Please, just make me come.”
“Okay, okay,” Charles says softly. He presses a kiss against Sebastian’s jaw. Then shifts his focus back to fucking into Sebastian.
Sebastian feels overwhelmed. His senses are consumed by Charles: Charles inside him; the weight of him on top of him, caging him in; the sound of Charles’ soft grunts and pants; the familiar smell of him. Every thought of his is occupied by Charles, has Charles at the forefront. Even the words pouring out of Sebastian are just a mantra of ‘Charles’.
Sebastian feels an intense want, that need of his own to hold Charles, so he draws him closer by the neck. Sebastian can’t tell if he’s the one trembling or if it’s Charles. Both of them seem to be unravelling at the seams.
Sebastian busies himself with licking the sweat off Charles’ collarbone, sucking bruises into whatever part of Charles he can reach, staking his own claim on him. It elicits pleased moans out of Charles, who just hunches his hips and fucks into Sebastian harder.
The pleasure in Sebastian’s body feels so painstakingly good that his gums ache with the urge to sink his teeth into Charles, just to have an outlet for that restless tension coiling inside of him. He lets himself give into that urge and bites down on the meat of Charles’ bicep. It backfires on him; Charles curses and the resultant jolting thrust into Sebastian has him releasing his jaws with a strangled gasp.
They both let out groans and expletives.
Charles recovers his composure, and then slams back into Sebastian. The bite seems to have riled him up. He fucks into Sebastian over and over again, completely driven by animalistic lust, coaxing him towards the edge of a precipice.
“Fuck, fuck, nnh—” Sebastian arches. A wave of tension starts at the base of his spine and moves up his body. It continues to build up at a rapid pace.
“Please,” Sebastian's voice cracks. “Please, I’m so close.”
The closer he gets the more he can’t quite keep still, can’t help but squirm and writhe. Even his pleas get more frantic until he’s babbling incoherently in between sharp pants.
And then, almost abruptly, his balls draw up fiercely. Sebastian sucks in a sharp inhale, not able to do anything other than brace himself.
His orgasm smashes into him with the ferocity of someone punching him in the gut. Lips parted helplessly, Sebastian’s throat feels clogged with a howl that won’t come out. His brows are pinched and his expression is contorted, exuding inexpressible pleasure. The relief is so sweet and intense that tears wet his lashes.
The muscles at the base of his cock contract so hard as come expels out of him. “Ungh!” Sebastian jolts when the first squirt comes out, and then jolts more violently as it’s succeeded with another one. It’s so explosive that it splatters between him and Charles, drenching them both. Some of it even lands on Sebastian’s chin. He’s vaguely aware of Charles dipping closer to lick it off of him.
His pleasure continues to expend itself in shudders. Sebastian desperately gasps for air when his orgasm finally lets up, gradually beginning to wane. He’s left quivering, feeling like he’s lost all awareness of space and time.
When Sebastian comes to himself, he notices that Charles is still rocking into him. Although his thrusts are gentle and considerate, it still makes Sebastian whimper from oversensitivity.
“That looked intense,” Charles comments; he sounds pleased with himself for being the cause of it. He seems to tower over Sebastian, composed and in control despite the fact he still hasn’t come.
Sebastian swallows thickly and nods, looking up at him through tear-stained lashes. He’s not confident in his ability to speak coherently at the moment. He makes a confused noise in his throat when Charles starts to pick up the pace again.
He gasps, writhing underneath Charles. “Charles? I-I just came.”
“C’mon, you can give me one more, can’t you?” Charles says. He shifts his hips and fucks into Sebastian with a better angle, making contact with Sebastian’s oversensitive prostate. Sebastian’s body seizes like he’s been electrocuted. His hole clenches fiercely around Charles’ cock. He tries to curl in on himself to no avail, letting out a moan that almost sounds pained as his cock sputters dry.
Sebastian shakes his head, whimpering. “Charles, I can’t—Not again.”
Charles presses a kiss into Sebastian’s sweat-mussed hair and then another on his forehead. “Shh, yes you can. I’ll show you. You’re already doing so good for me, my sweet.”
The praise cuts into him. Sebastian whines, his ears red.
Charles coos. “You are, aren’t you, so good for me. Made for me. Give yourself to me, just like that.”
Sebastian feels breathless and dizzy and overwhelmed. He’s burning inside and out, seared by the heat of their bodies. His heart is beating like a jack rabbit in his ribcage and that pulse seems to beat loudly in his ears. Everything is just too much. His muscles strain; there’s an ache in his hips; his thighs burn.
He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. His trembling fingers trace across Charles’ shoulders, his nape, threading through his hair, tugging on it a bit too harshly. He just can’t keep still.
And when it really gets too much, he digs his nails into Charles’ back, raking them over the expanse of it. Charles has ruined him for anyone else. So, it’s only fair that Sebastian gets to ruin him in return.
But the pain just makes Charles moan. He’s still relentless in his pursuit to make Sebastian come a second time.
It takes a while for Sebastian to be coaxed towards that excruciating edge again, but when it eventually happens, it makes him panic.
“Charles,” Sebastian says, frantic. He claws at Charles’ shoulders desperately, unable to decide whether to cling onto him harder or try to push him away. “Wait…Wait, please, I’m going to come again.” He can already feel it in his gut that this one is going to be too overwhelming and shattering and almost painful in its intensity. He’s not sure he can handle this much; it’s going to make him lose his mind.
Charles still doesn’t relent. Instead, he works his hips with more vigour. “You can do it, c’mon.”
“No, no, please, I don’t—” Sebastian shakes his head, borderline sobbing at this point. He needs Charles to understand. “I don’t think I can. It’s too much. It’s too much.”
But Charles won’t ease off; he makes Sebastian take it.
When his orgasm hits, it hits Sebastian all at once. It’s all encompassing. The pleasure is so intense that his legs feel like they’ve gone numb. Sebastian can only sob and writhe through it, trembling as he falls apart. His stomach sucks in, his abdominal muscles clenching hard enough for it to hurt. He stares up at the ceiling, eyes unseeing, suspended at this excruciating peak that just won’t relent.
Sebastian whimpers. His balls are squeezed so tight, desperately trying to wring out come, but his cock slit puckers, barely managing to spit out a few meagre drops. Although his cock is practically coming up empty, the pleasure is still excruciating enough for it to hurt, for Sebastian to struggle to breathe.
His cock feels exhausted by the end of it, his balls aching.
Even when his orgasm begins petering out, the aftershocks continue to wrack through his body sporadically, making him spasm and twitch. He just lets them run their course as he tries to catch his breath and get his body to calm down.
Sebastian's head begins to loll soon after, eyelids heavy. He feels wrung out, but also dazed and sated, like he’s in a stupor. It’s almost like he’s out of his body, floating. For once, he doesn’t feel weighed down by heavy expectations and doubts. All the disquiet in his mind has settled.
He’s jarred out of his tranquil state when Charles starts to pull out. Sebastian’s nose scrunches. He hisses through gritted teeth at the unbearable drag of it. Charles soothes him with apologies and soft kisses all over his face. Sebastian had been so far gone that he hadn’t even realized Charles had also come, but the warm fullness inside of him won’t let him forget it now.
⨳
Charles is very sweet afterwards. He combs his fingers through Sebastian’s dishevelled hair, taming it with care.
Sebastian already feels frayed open at the seams—utterly wrecked and vulnerable. He’s very close to spilling over with emotion. Tears cling to his lashes, blurring his vision. He blinks slowly a few times as Charles caresses his cheek with his fingers; he thumbs at Sebastian’s bottom lip, tracing the bruised skin where Sebastian had dug his teeth in. This reverent affection makes Sebastian want to fall apart; he’s already been holding it together for so long. He tries to keep his composure, but the quiver of his lips gives him away.
“Oh, my sweet,” Charles says softly, cupping Sebastian’s face. He leans closer, and Sebastian can’t help but lose himself in the depth of Charles’ gaze.
Charles guides Sebastian’s face up and kisses him. He starts off with little, tender kisses that grow more insistent, earning a low noise from Sebastian. Charles tilts his head to press their lips together more firmly, and Sebastian can’t help but become pliant, melting into it.
The kiss is just so slow and sweet and languid that it elicits a pleased sigh out of Sebastian. He slides a hand over Charles’ nape, his fingers lacing through the short hair, wanting to keep Charles close. They’re both content to just breathe each other in and swallow each other's noises. It’s enough to put Sebastian in a pleasant headspace.
He just wants to dwell in the moment and forget about everything else. There's nothing in the world but the two of them.
Charles continues to kiss him until Sebastian’s lips are tingling, until he’s all content and putty with his head in the clouds.
And when they part, Sebastian can’t resist the urge to pull Charles in closer and kiss the spot under his eye, followed by a teasing nip at his nose.
The soft giggle it elicits is definitely worth it. Charles’ entire face lights up; his smile deepens, and so do his dimples. When Charles smiles, it’s like he’s shining love on him like the Sun. And Sebastian feels like he can’t catch his breath because of the enormity of what he feels—this unexpected burst of incandescent affection that strains to spill out of his chest. He finds himself stroking Charles’ hair, utterly charmed in spite of himself.
He’s so incredibly fucked.