[ His wings are fascinating, so reactive to every touch. Michael is more than willing to indulge them. Fingers trail along feathers, petting them where they fluff out.
He stops, only to lift his hands and get out of that shirt. As soon as it's gone, his fingertips are running beneath Dick's, finding the firm plane of his stomach beneath it. ]
I look way better out of a suit, [ he says, speaking the words between more nipped, hungry kisses. He's enjoying this, seeing Dick's lips redden as he kisses them, feeling his wings splay out between his fingers. He's moved to the base of them now, his fingertips ghosting along Dick's spine before settling where the wings emerge.
Dick's beautiful like this, dark hair falling in his eyes, his body arching over Michael's. One hand moves up into that hair, pushing through it so Michael can see him clearly. A crooked smile curves his lips. ]
[Dick laughs softly at the assertion, shameless about the way he looks Michael over once he's bared to the waist. Though the lift to his eyebrows is quasi-innocent, nothing else about his expression could be called the same.]
That's not a lie.
[with permission to touch, he's greedy for it - holding himself on one hand while the other traces the hard lines of Michael's body, pausing to thumb roughly over a nipple before he bends his head to soothe the same spot with lips and tongue.]
I'll stay as long as you'll let me. [It's a small lie but true in that moment. Unlikely the limits of his promises will be put to the test.
He kisses lower - the indent of Michael's waist. Noses against the dip of his navel, presses his mouth to where a light, fair down begins just over the waist of his jeans.] Long as you want.
[ Michael could get drunk on this. He's reactive, his body - already naturally warm to the touch - is heating up, a flush spreading over his chest and moving up his neck. He shifts beneath Dick, legs spreading a little to accommodate him between them as he moves.
A hand moves over into his hair, fingers splaying in it. His nails scratch along Dick's scalp and tug his hair a little. The other slides back along the arch of his wings, playing with the feathers. There's something surreal about this, but god, he likes the effect of it on Dick. He likes the look on his face, likes the way he's touching him. ]
I want you, flyboy, [ he murmurs. He runs his fingers through Dick's hair, pushing it back so that he can see his face clearly. ] Just you.
[Dick dips his head to rest against Michael's hip bone for just a second, allowing himself a moment from the intensity of that gaze. He knows himself too well not to know when he's compromised: the wings or some associated effect heighten his wants and desires, let cravings pull at him he could usually overcome. The wings might be why he's here.
But he looks up at Michael again and - the wings aren't why he's compromised.]
You got me.
[He says it like it's a promise, and he may have broken a thousand of those but he fought to keep every one.
Palming Michael through his jeans, rubbing him through the fabric, he can feel himself wanting to give in to those cravings more and more.]
God, you smell like a summer storm. [His thumb rubs over a button at Michael's fly.] Can I?
He's beautiful without the wings. Dark hair falling into ice blue eyes, defined muscles on a frame that lets nothing go to waste. Michael's hand slides through his hair, tugging it away and then letting it fall back into his eyes. It's a good image, and he knows he's going to want to remember this. ]
Please, [ he says, with feeling, meaning every inflection.
He's hard inside those jeans, which don't leave much to the imagination anyway. He's wanted Dick for a while now, and he knows he has. The thing is, it's more than just a want. This isn't an itch he's wanted scratched, or a way to make quota. This comes from something more, something he was holding back on since Damon left.
Something he doesn't want to hold back on now, in this moment, no matter how risky that might seem. They've never promised anything to each other, not until now.
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no subject
Date: 2021-03-31 10:58 pm (UTC)He stops, only to lift his hands and get out of that shirt. As soon as it's gone, his fingertips are running beneath Dick's, finding the firm plane of his stomach beneath it. ]
I look way better out of a suit, [ he says, speaking the words between more nipped, hungry kisses. He's enjoying this, seeing Dick's lips redden as he kisses them, feeling his wings splay out between his fingers. He's moved to the base of them now, his fingertips ghosting along Dick's spine before settling where the wings emerge.
Dick's beautiful like this, dark hair falling in his eyes, his body arching over Michael's. One hand moves up into that hair, pushing through it so Michael can see him clearly. A crooked smile curves his lips. ]
Tell me this isn't just a flying visit.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 06:55 pm (UTC)That's not a lie.
[with permission to touch, he's greedy for it - holding himself on one hand while the other traces the hard lines of Michael's body, pausing to thumb roughly over a nipple before he bends his head to soothe the same spot with lips and tongue.]
I'll stay as long as you'll let me. [It's a small lie but true in that moment. Unlikely the limits of his promises will be put to the test.
He kisses lower - the indent of Michael's waist. Noses against the dip of his navel, presses his mouth to where a light, fair down begins just over the waist of his jeans.] Long as you want.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-12 02:20 am (UTC)A hand moves over into his hair, fingers splaying in it. His nails scratch along Dick's scalp and tug his hair a little. The other slides back along the arch of his wings, playing with the feathers. There's something surreal about this, but god, he likes the effect of it on Dick. He likes the look on his face, likes the way he's touching him. ]
I want you, flyboy, [ he murmurs. He runs his fingers through Dick's hair, pushing it back so that he can see his face clearly. ] Just you.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-21 10:31 pm (UTC)But he looks up at Michael again and - the wings aren't why he's compromised.]
You got me.
[He says it like it's a promise, and he may have broken a thousand of those but he fought to keep every one.
Palming Michael through his jeans, rubbing him through the fabric, he can feel himself wanting to give in to those cravings more and more.]
God, you smell like a summer storm. [His thumb rubs over a button at Michael's fly.] Can I?
no subject
Date: 2021-05-08 04:01 pm (UTC)He's beautiful without the wings. Dark hair falling into ice blue eyes, defined muscles on a frame that lets nothing go to waste. Michael's hand slides through his hair, tugging it away and then letting it fall back into his eyes. It's a good image, and he knows he's going to want to remember this. ]
Please, [ he says, with feeling, meaning every inflection.
He's hard inside those jeans, which don't leave much to the imagination anyway. He's wanted Dick for a while now, and he knows he has. The thing is, it's more than just a want. This isn't an itch he's wanted scratched, or a way to make quota. This comes from something more, something he was holding back on since Damon left.
Something he doesn't want to hold back on now, in this moment, no matter how risky that might seem. They've never promised anything to each other, not until now.
Not until. ]
I'm yours. Whatever you want.
[ Until that. ]