He offered no resistance as Hudson guided him into the next position, following the other man's hands languidly. He knew what was coming next, of course, but he was content to defer to Hudson on all of the specifics: where to place his knees, the height and angle of his hips. He reached up to grab one of Hudson's pillows and pulled it down to tuck under his head, not because he wanted to be any more comfortable but because he was thinking ahead to being able to stifle a moan in it. Hudson probably didn't mind the noise, if he hadn't said anything so far about keeping their volume low, but Don Juan thought there was something inherently sexy about seeing someone bite a pillow because of what you were doing to them.

He stayed as relaxed as he could while Hudson pressed into him, to ease his entry. Hudson went slow and there was the initial uncomfortable stretch, but in hardly any time it had moved past discomfort into pleasure. Don Juan moaned as Hudson reached the height of his first slow thrust. This felt like it had been easier than in previous sexual encounters, and Don Juan briefly wondered if there was something special about the lubrication Hudson had reached for. Then he realized: Oh, that's why he made me come first. The orgasm had left him deeply relaxed, in a way he didn't need to consciously think about maintaining. He'd have to remember that for future liaisons.

Now that Hudson was inside him he tightened up more, pressing his ass back to give Hudson the most pleasurable resistance he could manage to each thrust. "Oh, yeah," he said, half muffled by the pillow. Those were probably the only words he was going to manage until Hudson finished; the next sound from his lips was another moan.

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MJ made this <3

Dean had to grin as Dempsey grabbed a pillow; he certainly didn't mind, in fact he enjoyed it immensely, but his neighbors didn't need to know what he got up to at this time of night.

After easing into it, he went by instinct, reading Dempsey's movements and gauging by his reactions. Dean muttered a barely audible "Fuck," at that little motion of Dempsey's hips, feeling the squeeze with each thrust. He held tight, likely leaving bruises at his fingertips, but too gone to care. He steadily increased the pace until his breathing became labored and he could feel the climax coming, encouraged by every sigh and sound.

He held out for as long as he could, but had enjoyed himself too thoroughly to try and tease out a longer release. Finally the orgasm hit him with one final thrust and he let go, leaning over, spent with the effort of it. After a moment to catch his breath, lowly he eased back a little at first, then off the bed. He could feel the flush on his skin and the slight sheen of sweat from the exertion of it all. The room smelled like sex and Dean, for one, felt completely satisfied by it.

Far too at home in his own space, he cleaned up quickly, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and his pack of smokes from the table to bring back to the bed. He settled down again next to Dempsey, still in the mood for the other man's skin on his, but not to cuddle exactly. He popped open the cork of the whiskey and took a deep swig. "You should probably get comfortable," he said as he offered both the whiskey or the smokes to Dempsey if he wanted one or the other. "I have every intention of doing that again before the morning." If Dempsey was into it, of course.

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Don Juan leaned his leg up against Hudson's the moment the other man returned to the bed, eager for the feel of his skin again. He was entirely physically spent for the moment but was still emotionally invested in the encounter; while he wouldn't have admitted to it, it would have been disappointing if Hudson had just rolled off the bed and gone off to do something else. He took one of the cigarettes. He had his own in his jacket, wherever that had ended up — his were flavored vanilla and sweeter on the tongue and in the lungs — but at the moment there was something deliciously appealing about having the scent of Hudson's cigarette smoke clinging to him instead of his own.

"Mmm," he mumbled agreeably in response to Hudson's comment about a repeat performance. The suggestion of more sex wasn't half so tantalizing as the implication that he was invited to stay, but he wouldn't say that. He didn't want to come across as clingy — and it wasn't like he was going to fall in love with Hudson, or anything. He didn't do that anymore. It was just nice to have somewhere soft to land; the suggestion that he was welcome here, that his presence was desirable. He leaned closer to Hudson on the pretense of reaching for the lighter, but then didn't lean back and instead left his shoulder brushing Hudson's chest. "Does that mean I'll get some of those home-cooked eggs tomorrow morning?" he teased. "You wouldn't keep me here all night and then send me on my way hungry, would you?"

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MJ made this <3

Dean relaxed against the pillows, taking a few more pulls from the whiskey bottle before lighting a cigarette. He enjoyed the way Dempsey leaned across to get the lighter and was surprisingly unperturbed by the continued contact. There was always something so enjoyable about the afterglow, but if he were being smug and cocky about it, he rather thought Dempsey just couldn't get enough of touching him. So far the feeling was mutual. It had been an unexpectedly pleasant detour for the evening and Dean had the sneaking suspicion this might be the first in a string of nights like this. He didn't think in that frame of mind however, was content to stay in the moment.

"Perhaps," Dean chuckled. "Maybe if you play your cards right I'll make an entire spread." Which admittedly wasn't much, eggs, toast, he had burned the last few batches of pancakes he'd done, but he could try. There might be something else in the ice box he could add. "I do have the good coffee too." He'd picked up a taste for that on his travels, preferred it over tea, in fact. But he did have tea too.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, he blew out the smoke, letting the gratification of the situation wash over him. This might be the start of something good indeed.

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   Don Juan Dempsey

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