... Oh. Ford stared at Macnair for a moment with wide eyes, completely taken aback. He hadn't been aware that was something that people did. He looked from Macnair's face to his hand, which was still stroking him. His mouth had gone too dry to speak, but after a moment of lingering trepidation he nodded, then leaned back on the bed until he was resting on his elbows. It was as much of an invitation as he felt able to give, under the circumstances, and Macnair had no trouble interpreting it.

Woah. Ford had thought he wouldn't know what to do with himself while it was happening but that turned out not to be the case. As soon as it started Ford tangled the fingers of one hand in Macnair's hair on instinct. His other hand moved to his own forehead, trying to hold himself together. There were noises coming from the back of his throat before he could even recognize them. This was better than Ford had expected — better than he could have imagined — and, as he had anticipated, it didn't last long. "Oh — I'm —" he managed, between labored breaths. That was all the warning he was capable of, however, and then it was happening, and then it was over.

Ford collapsed back on the bed, breathing heavily and for the moment incapable of anything else.

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Set by Lady!

Valerian enjoyed giving as much as he enjoyed receiving, and he'd always known it to be true, but there was something especially satisfying in watching Greengrass give himself up to him after a moment of uncertainty. He wasted no time before he crawled onto the bed between Greengrass' legs and replaced his hand with his mouth. Valerian smiled against him, his eyes caught on Greengrass' face, watching as Greengrass wrestled with the sudden onslaught of sensations. He hummed happily when Greengrass tangled a hand in his hair, which happened only moments before Valerian became aware that the rhythm of Greengrass' hips was becoming quicker, more urgent, more instinct than intentional.

And then it was over, and Valerian pulled his head up, smiling sheepishly down at Greengrass as his lip swiped over his tongue over his bottom lip. "That good, then?" he said playfully, dipping his head down to press a kiss against Greengrass' navel.

He slowly began to climb higher on the bed, making sure not to accidentally elbow or knee Greengrass. Knees planted firmly on the soft mattress between Greengrass' legs, he settled above the other man, not laying on top of him but hovering above. He felt his own arousal brush against Greengrass' hip as he leaned down where his face hovered above Greengrass' and pressed a kiss to his chin.

"I told you I wasn't afraid," he chuckled, dipping his head down to press another kiss against Greengrass' throat.

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When he'd nodded his agreement to this it had somehow escaped him that letting Macnair do that to him meant Ford would inevitably be in Macnair's presence in the immediate aftermath of an orgasm. Having to interact with someone — having to talk to someone after that was unfathomable. How did anyone manage it? Ford was feeling particularly inadequate because it wasn't just anyone he was talking to, but Macnair, whom he quite desperately wanted to like him. (That what they'd just done might be taken as evidence that Macnair did like him already would probably never occur to Ford; it certainly hadn't yet).

Yes, it had been that good, but Ford wasn't sure if Macnair wanted him to say that or whether the question had been rhetorical. Macnair was kissing him before he could decide, which combined with the fact that Ford was still catching his breath pushed him towards not answering. There was one quick moment of panic (dulled panic; he was too tired at the moment for the full experience) as he wondered whether or not he was sweating, whether or not Macnair was noticing it when he kissed him, whether or not Macnair would mind — but then he realized that was a little ridiculous. Given what had just happened, it was hard to believe that Macnair would be squeamish about sweat.

Ford let out a pleased sigh when Macnair kissed his neck again, smiling at the recurring reference to how unafraid he was. I'll only ever think of you as Macnair the Brave from here on out, he thought, but that was too silly to voice. Instead, Ford raised his hands to cup Macnair's face, dragging it up enough that he could kiss him on the lips again. It was a much slower kiss than any of their previous ones, but still deep. After a moment Ford stopped and let his head fall back onto the bed, staring up at Macnair appreciatively. "You're incredible."

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Set by Lady!

Valerian kept his lips pressed against Greengrass' throat, inhaling his scent and storing it away in the back of his mind. He hadn't even finished yet himself, yet somehow was overwhelmed with a sense of serenity, which was probably a result of how pleased he was with himself for being able to seduce Greengrass so successfully. The only thing more painful than the month he'd waited to do so was the knowledge that he'd have to leave this bed eventually see Greengrass off without a clue if or when he'd ever return to his bed.

He happily pressed his lips back against Greengrass', not rushing or doing too much too fast; he took his time, tasting Greengrass, feeling him, taking him all in. He'd meant what he said—it had been a while since his last time—and this was not one he wanted to soon forget. Greengrass eventually leaned back, leaving Valerian to hover over him with a lazy smile on his face.

You're incredible. It was not the first time he'd heard a similar sentiment, but despite his general confidence it still struck him in a way that sent a rush of warmth through his entire body. "You're not too bad yourself," he teased, leaning down to press a more gentle kiss against Greengrass' lips before he pulled himself off of him and rolled over onto his side next to the other man. They were too far down the bed to rest their heads on the pillows, and too centered to think about pulling the covers over them, but it didn't matter. Not at the moment.

He hadn't been able to take Greengrass all the way—but he would, he decided, whenever the opportunity came. He glanced down at his own arousal, which had begun to ache from the lack of touch, but after Greengrass' scare minutes before he didn't want to try and push him any further. Not when he looked so happy, so cute. "Hopefully I'll have it more furnished next time," he said, referring to his home, which was still pretty much empty apart from the bedroom. He paused, waiting to see how Greengrass reacted to the idea.

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Ford's mouth flickered towards a smile at Macnair's compliment, but only out of social habit; he didn't believe it, and didn't believe Macnair meant it. Not as genuinely as Ford had meant it when he said you're incredible, at any rate. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the other man; around the existence of someone who was so confident and at the same time so mysterious, and yet could also do that to him — he was unbelievable, was what he was. Inconceivable.

The phrase next time drifted through his head, and Ford had to blink at the ceiling before he made any sense of it. Next time — the implication that this would be a recurring event. Next time — maybe also the implication that tonight was over. Ford frowned at the possibility that Macnair might be trying to shoo him away. He didn't want to leave yet, and was suddenly incredibly insecure about everything that had happened so far tonight. He turned towards Macnair, propping his head up on one hand.

"We're not done yet, are we?" he asked, not even trying to disguise the hopeful note in his tone. His eyes trailed down to Macnair's lap, and after a second his free hand followed. Ford touched him tentatively, suddenly worried that Macnair would push his hand away.

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Set by Lady!

From his position next to Greengrass, Valerian saw the brief flicker of a frown and his heart immediately came to a standstill. Perhaps Greengrass didn't want there to be a next time. It wasn't as though he could blame him if that was the case—they had made no promises about any sort of arrangement, hadn't made an agreement to do this until the moment Greengrass had kissed him back for the first time. He had every right to go home, to go back to his daily life, to leave Valerian thinking about him for the next few weeks without any chance of having him back in his arms. And he'd have to deal with that, because that's how these things could be—it was one of the downsides of preferring men, because there was no way to hold onto them like there was with wives.

Very quickly Valerian abandoned those thoughts, though, to focus on Greengrass as he turned towards him, propped up on his elbow in a way that was so attractive that Valerian almost regretted having made him finish already. It seemed Greengrass was having the opposite thought, the words we're not done yet, are we? causing his heartbeat to return to his rapid pace, and would only quicken further at the sudden feeling of Greengrass' hand running down his length.

Valerian could barely shake his head no before it fell back against the mattress. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth parted open to release a raspy sigh. "More," he muttered, unsure whether it was a demand or a plea. Maybe both. He hadn't realized how sensitive he'd become during the past few minutes, when his attention had been so focused on Greengrass instead of himself—and he knew it would only be a matter of time before he lost himself in the pleasure.

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Ford had barely even started touching him, but Macnair was already reacting so strongly, and that did more to reassure him than anything else could have. The half-compliment from a moment ago might have only been a social nicety, the sort of thing people said in these situations, but there was no faking that. Ford shifted to put himself in a more comfortable position for it and continued touching him — it took a second to find the right rhythm, since this was a much different angle than when he did this sort of thing to himself — but he could tell when he hit it, from the way Macnair reacted. He kept at it and punctuated it here and there by touching the rest of Macnair, with his other hand or with his mouth — and with light bites sometimes, too — until Macnair reached climax.

For half a moment afterwards Ford just looked at him, taking in the sight — he was sort of beautiful, in the way that everyday objects could be beautiful when the light hit them just right. Someone could have written poetry about him. Then Ford laid down on the bed and tucked himself into the space beneath Macnair’s arm, nestling into him.

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Set by Lady!

A shudder ran through his body as Valerian silently reached his climax, and then he was so thoroughly tired that only a pressing need to see what Greengrass looked like curled up in the nook of his body was keeping him awake. Valerian turned his head slowly, his cheek coming to a rest against his own shoulder so his face was just inches from Greengrass', and when he opened his eyes he couldn't help but give a lazy smile. "Amazing," he murmured, the outer corners of his eyes crinkled as he gazed at Greengrass with what could only be described as pure bliss.

It was done, then, and all that was left was how to move forward—and yet, laying here in such serenity, the thought of having to move at all was met with avid dismay. If he could have kept Greengrass in his bedroom all night he would have, and yet he was sure such a thing wasn't possible when Greengrass was responsible for a household of siblings. Still, Valerian turned at an angle that allowed him to pull his arm tighter around Greengrass' back, pulling him more firmly into his side.

Valerian leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Greengrass' lips, much sweeter and softer than any of the time's before. "Mine," he said with a tone of playful possessiveness, nipping at his lip, and in a way he meant it—he'd had Greengrass now, and still had him, right here in his arms. He wasn't the sort who liked to let go of what he'd been given.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Tomorrow, probably, Ford would worry about this — about having done it, about the possibility of doing it again, about what Macnair meant by mine. Right now, he wasn't worrying. Right now he was living in the afterglow, returning Macnair's soft kiss and reaching up to trail his fingertips along Macnair's jaw. Right now, when the other man bit Ford's lip and said mine, the only thing that occurred to him was pride that someone like this would even want to lay claim to him in the first place.

"Promise?" Ford asked, his tone equally playful and his eyes alight. He let his fingertips move from Macnair's jaw to run over his lips, already looking forward with anticipation to all the future kisses they might share.

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Set by Lady!

All too eager to indulge Greengrass in the aftermath—something he knew from experience was unlikely to fade immediately, even tomorrow, or the next day, or even the week after that—Valerian puckered his lips against the man's fingertips as they brushed across his lips, pressing gentle kisses to them. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he responded in a whisper, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. And he did mean it. He was not at all under the impression that he could keep Greengrass forever—it was a silly thought, because one did not simply keep a man forever with how they tended to grow bored or stray or eventually grow tired of him—but he very much liked the idea of keeping Greengrass around with how eager to please and cute and amusing he could be. So if Greengrass wanted to be kept, to be possessed, Valerian was all too willing to help fulfill that desire until it ebbed, until Greengrass changed his mind.

He didn't want to shift from his position, but suddenly Valerian became all too aware of how chilly his toes were becoming as a draft passed through the room. He started to sit up, gently urging Greengrass up with the arm wrapped around his back, and found the edge of the duvet. He clawed it down towards them, ruining the way it had been perfectly made but making it much more accessible for their current position.

"Sleep here tonight. With me." It was less a demand than a request, but he spoke it as if it was a demand. He knew Greengrass' week was busy—work, commitments, everything he'd had to work around to even be here—but whether or not he would change something as simple as his sleeping arrangements would speak to how easily Greengrass might be kept.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Ford's heart leapt to his throat at the request. He was barely aware of himself as he nodded and answered quietly but eagerly, "Alright." There were a thousand reasons why he shouldn't, one of which being that he lived with four other people in a too-small house and one of them would certainly notice if he didn't come home until the early hours of the morning (again), but he wanted to say yes. Just the fact that Macnair had asked it of him (although it hadn't really been a question) made Ford's chest swell. They were both finished, sexually, so this would have been the ideal time to dismiss Ford, but Macnair had asked him to stay.

"I'll have to leave early," he said, thinking aloud as his brain caught up to all the reasons this was a bad idea and then tried to rationalize it. "I have work tomorrow and I'll need to change and shave first. And someone will notice if I'm not home for breakfast. But alright. I'll stay."

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Set by Lady!

Alright. Valerian tried and failed to repress the pleased smile that slid onto his lips, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of spending the night in bed with someone. He hadn't done that in a long time. The last time he'd taken a man to bed it had been the middle of the day on an off-day at work, and the encounter had ended with him alone in his bedroom. This would be different, he told himself, arranging the covers in a way where they could crawl underneath, all the while letting Greengrass try to work out his problems out loud. He didn't comment, instead taking the time to crawl under the sheets. Once the words I'll stay left Greengrass' mouth, pulled the covers back and patted the spot next to him.

"Worries for the morning," he murmured, shifting to accommodate Greengrass' body next to his as the other man joined him under the sheets. Valerian slid his arm under Greengrass' head and wrapped his other around Greengrass' waist. "But tonight you're mine."

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   Angelica Selwyn

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