( scott's laughing again, as he's wont to do when he's embarrassed. 'for being him'--honestly, the things matt says sometimes, and scott mentions this as if he isn't just as bad sometimes (see: all the time). he's still smiling, ridiculous and fond, when he turns to kiss matt's palm--turns to kiss his fingers, the tips of them. ) I'm innocent. ( the words are simple and small and full of shit, just like the person who's speaking them, and that much is made obvious in the way scott's nails start to trickle down matt's skin again--this time on his back, just to raise goosebumps. )
You're the asshole who won't stop touching me. ( hypocrite, a voice in his head says, but scott's wrapping his arms around matt's neck and tugging him anyway, slipping so he's got a leg hooked around matt's waist and his back against the cushions. ) Honestly, man. Show a little restraint.
( 'self-restraint' is what he says at the same time he hooks his arms up under matt's, drawing him close so he can kiss his mouth.
they're chest to chest now--bare flesh to bare flesh. scott does his best not to grin like an idiot, but his hand does move up to stroke the hair at the back of matt's head. )
[ matt lets himself be rearranged however scott wants, happily settling his weight on top of the other man. one hand slides down scott's side, tracing the contours of muscle down to his hip and then slipping under his waistband. grinning and kissing at the same time can be a challenge, but somehow the two of them manage it (they seem to get a lot of practice). ]
Can't stop touching you. I like it too much. Maybe you shouldn't feel so nice and then I might be able to restrain myself better.
[ but since scott does feel nice and matt really isn't interested in holding back on this, he just ducks back in for another leisurely kiss. he slips one hand behind scott's head just to rest there, the other absently stroking his arm. when they break for air, matt just continues along scott's jaw, tugging a little at the rough skin with his teeth before moving on, slowly, down his throat to the juncture of shoulder and neck. ]
Ah-- ( scott's torn between pleased little sounds and laughter, his fingers lightly brushing at the hair on the back of matt's neck. this is what he meant precisely about the whole mouthy situation, but he can't say he hates it. not when his leg is tightening a little around matt's waist, and his stomach is going tight with both the happiest little emotion and that tell-tale fire of want. ) God damn it.
( his laughter is cut short by the smallest hitch in breath when matt's mouth lands on some spot in his neck, and scott's going to berate himself for it later, but his head tilts in some simple, small angle as the hand on matt's back curls its fingers in. )
I'm--uh, pretty sure I just taste like salt. Or sweat or-- ( oh, christ, scott is so happy whenever matt doesn't shave. ) --d-dirt.
( his chest rises and falls in as steady a way he can manage, but his heartbeat is alive and quick and powerful, and his blood pumps and throbs in his veins. )
[ those little breaths and stutters are everything matt wants right now, and he's greedy in seeking them out. he half-listens to scott's words and half to the other sounds he makes, hands in constant motion. he can smell scott's arousal, feel the heat everywhere his blood pounds faster or his skin blushes. and there's no mistaking the obvious sign, as blatant as it is with scott's leg wrapped around his waist.
matt shakes his head, planting a kiss in the hollow of scott's throat. ] You feel perfect. Wish I had a dozen hands sometimes. [ tilting his head, he rubs his cheek lightly against scott's chest. ]
( he shivers at the prickling sensation of stubble on his chest, torn between some stupid remark and equally stupid laughter. he settles for the latter, obvious in the way his shoulders shake and he murmurs some little 'hehe', and with gentle touches his fingertips skirt the underside of matt's jaw, drawn up from where they'd settled on his neck. )
If you had a dozen hands the real bug man would be you. ( scott's thumb moves, brushing over the jut of matt's lower lip. ) But honestly, ( cradling matt's cheek, he guides him to rest his ear close to where scott's heart beats for him ) I'd probably still want to make out with you like crazy, anyway.
[ matt makes a soft sound that begins as laughter but breaks halfway through as his head comes to rest on scott's chest. he closes his eyes, his movements stilling for a moment as he listens to the heavy thumping. this is his, this is for him, and he can't stop himself from turning his head to press his face against the warm skin and just breathe. ]
Scott...
[ a long, shuddering breath. and then matt raises his head and braces himself up on one hand, the other reaching to sink into scott's hair. his eyes are open again, pupils wide as he leans in to kiss scott as though he's a desperate man dying of thirst. ]
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You're the asshole who won't stop touching me. ( hypocrite, a voice in his head says, but scott's wrapping his arms around matt's neck and tugging him anyway, slipping so he's got a leg hooked around matt's waist and his back against the cushions. ) Honestly, man. Show a little restraint.
( 'self-restraint' is what he says at the same time he hooks his arms up under matt's, drawing him close so he can kiss his mouth.
they're chest to chest now--bare flesh to bare flesh. scott does his best not to grin like an idiot, but his hand does move up to stroke the hair at the back of matt's head. )
Unbelievable.
no subject
Can't stop touching you. I like it too much. Maybe you shouldn't feel so nice and then I might be able to restrain myself better.
[ but since scott does feel nice and matt really isn't interested in holding back on this, he just ducks back in for another leisurely kiss. he slips one hand behind scott's head just to rest there, the other absently stroking his arm. when they break for air, matt just continues along scott's jaw, tugging a little at the rough skin with his teeth before moving on, slowly, down his throat to the juncture of shoulder and neck. ]
Like the way you taste, too.
no subject
( his laughter is cut short by the smallest hitch in breath when matt's mouth lands on some spot in his neck, and scott's going to berate himself for it later, but his head tilts in some simple, small angle as the hand on matt's back curls its fingers in. )
I'm--uh, pretty sure I just taste like salt. Or sweat or-- ( oh, christ, scott is so happy whenever matt doesn't shave. ) --d-dirt.
( his chest rises and falls in as steady a way he can manage, but his heartbeat is alive and quick and powerful, and his blood pumps and throbs in his veins. )
Mm, you feel nicer than me...
no subject
matt shakes his head, planting a kiss in the hollow of scott's throat. ] You feel perfect. Wish I had a dozen hands sometimes. [ tilting his head, he rubs his cheek lightly against scott's chest. ]
no subject
If you had a dozen hands the real bug man would be you. ( scott's thumb moves, brushing over the jut of matt's lower lip. ) But honestly, ( cradling matt's cheek, he guides him to rest his ear close to where scott's heart beats for him ) I'd probably still want to make out with you like crazy, anyway.
Just 'cause I like you that much.
scott why do you do these things to him
Scott...
[ a long, shuddering breath. and then matt raises his head and braces himself up on one hand, the other reaching to sink into scott's hair. his eyes are open again, pupils wide as he leans in to kiss scott as though he's a desperate man dying of thirst. ]