haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?

[ordinar]

wilmon cum sock

CW: dumb underage kids fucking

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[poverty]

( his back bows in response to the smack, a soft gasp lost somewhere in the crinkle of his sheets. simon means to be annoyed by it, affronted by it, but is instead — a little excited by it. the second spank deftly solidifies his opinions on it, a roaring too thumbs up which are only evident by the louder groan he lets out, muffled but not completely covered by the bedding in his mouth. his hips wiggle, swaying under the attention, like he might just ask for another smack to see how else his body will respond.

not that he has the chance. he can feel his cheeks his hot under wille's attention, rolling his eyes as a means to conceal his own self consciousness. )

Fuck off. ( he lets out a laugh, hoarse, shaking his head. ) You're cute. Like a puppy.

( but — with the velvet heat of wille's cock rutting against him, simon forgets to be anything but enamored, whimpering a little as he props his hips up, hungry for more of the heat. turning his head over his shoulder, simon bites his lip before lifting himself up enough to not disturb wille's position, but to spit hotly into the palm of his hand. reaching behind him, he catches wille's cock, jerking him off slowly, making sure to wet the entirety of his length and make rubbing against his ass easier. the thought of it — what they're doing, what they're going to do, makes simon blush, makes him laugh softly, letting wille's wet dick rest against his ass once he reassumes the position. )

Mhm. ( it's more of a nod than actual words, simon squirming underneath him to get him back in motion. one hand moves, resting on top of wille's, pinned to the bed. simon sweetly interlaces their pinkies, keeping his affection quiet. well, kind of. ) Kiss me?

[ordinar]

[It's as if he's unraveling, and the more threads pull loose, the more easily he snags on every little detail. Simon clutching at his sheets, mouth clamped down, cute in his stubborn shyness. His laugh, hoarse and airless, shuddering from his throat. His whimpering and wriggling in answer to the press of Wilhelm's cock, matching his hunger. A thousand little things to love about Simon.

(Love? He doesn't quite think the word, but mainly because his mind is all an inchoate swirl, too fluid to hold any particular shape. It's less the word and more the thing itself that thrums through him unnamed.)

And the more Wilhelm gets snagged, the further he unravels. The hot slick of Simon's palm squeezing his shaft wrings from him a groan loud enough to contend with the clamor coming from the TV. Teeth digging into his lower lip, breath sagging heavier, he fucks into Simon's hand, until — another twist, and his dick is pushing against his ass again. With each thrust, the spit slicking him smears along the channel his cock follows between those two firm cheeks. The friction softens without releasing them from its grip.

Stitching him together is Simon's pinky intertwining with his. Grinning deliriously, he leans in — not to answer Simon's request, but to lick his cheek, wet and sloppy and noisy. That's for comparing him to a puppy. Wilhelm laughs in his ear, a low, honeyed sound. Just as fast, he makes amends by claiming his lips in a slow, sweet kiss.]

[poverty]

( he means to be affronted, except wilhem's tongue is only a revelation, only silly enough to bring a smile to his face for a moment before his expression twists in the confines of pleasure, gasping outright at the feeling of wille's weight between his legs. maybe a second ago, he could've told wille to be careful, to be quiet, to tease him about the size and volume of his wanting — but it's all few and far away now, a thought that someone else had. because simon feels different. he feels the weight of a hundred other responsibilities soundly move to the back burner while he throws himself into this moment, kissing wille, pulling back to gasp and press his nose into his cheek. puppy dog nuzzles. it's on theme.

he's sure in his life he's going to have countless erections, and probably a lot of them will be because of wille, but this feels like the hardest he's ever been, pressed up flush to his bedspread, wille's heat laying all over him like a blanket. he heaves himself up, not enough to push wille away, but enough to flatten one hand on the bed, supporting himself, while the other snakes low to cup his weeping cock, stroking inelegantly. he doesn't have another hand available to pull wilhem's mouth to his, but he makes a pleading sound anyway, head turned over his shoulder to catch him. )

Wille. ( there's something deeply embarrassing about his voice now — rasped and honey warm. he shudders, affected, trying to nuzzle against wille's cheek enough that he finds some place to hide away in. moaning, he grips himself harder, not having the wherewithal to stop from leaking on his sheets, smudges of cum that will probably stain. he shimmies against him, rocking his hips back to grind — it really is a little like dancing, which simon has always been good at. ) God — don't stop. Whatever you do.

[ordinar]

[The world shrinks to just Simon. Or rather, Simon's presence swells to become the entirety of the world. His voice, heavy and shuddering like it's trying to hold too much, thrums through Wilhelm. His scent, which he drinks with his nose nuzzled into Simon's curls, becomes a sort of atmosphere surrounding him.

The world is warm and safe and secret. It's all theirs.]

I won't...I won't...

[Feverishly, Wilhelm thrusts against Simon as if hellbent on melding their bodies together. As if they might be clay, malleable enough to form a new shape out of. He kisses him, breathless and messy, burying groans in his shoulder, hair, ear. His lips latch onto the lobe, teeth tugging. Everything is instinct now: all he knows is that he has to have this boy, and as he can't cradle his actual heart in his hands, then he'll just have to wrap himself around every part he can reach.

For a small eternity, there is only this. Friction and sweat and creaky bedsprings. The soft, carnal music of mouths and muffled moans, of balls squishing against buttcheek. At one point, the angle of Simon's shimmying hips invites Wilhelm's cockhead to rub against the tight ring of his hole. On the next pass, it's purposeful. A taste of that nebulous someday.

And then, just as he's sure he's only got seconds left, all of him spinning out and unraveling into cosmic dust from the force of his arousal—

A knock comes at the bedroom door. The reminder that anything else is somehow still happening outside of themselves is disorienting, and it sends Wilhelm springing off of Simon. Elbow banging into the wall, groping for a pillow or something to cover himself up with, he almost misses the message Simon's mom passes along: Ten minutes until dinner's ready, boys.]

[poverty]

( he feels it peaking at the same time — his body rocking with wille's, covered by him, nestled like something precious under his weight. it could be the sensation as much as the feeling it stirs, being in a moment with wille, promises staining the air with something sweet and almost tangible, that feels like forever in a foolhardy, lovesick way. he's not thinking about the complications of them being together — he's not really thinking about anything, except wille's hot breath and beautiful body, and how badly he wants everyday to be exactly like this. he misses it, and it's not even gone, yet.

until it is. simon responds as viscerally as wilhelm, startling up and pressing his scattered blanket to his dick, perking up like a meerkat at his mother's voice. he's two steps away from running across the room and clamping his hand down on the knob to stop her entry — but instead just manages to say, ) Ye — yeah! Yes. We'll be out when we find a, um. A save point. Mom.

( he doesn't breathe until his mother's footsteps disappear further into the house, and then he lets out all the breath he'd been storing up inside himself when wille was on him. turning to look at him, simon settles back onto his feet, naked and hard, weighing his options. on the one hand — they clean up, probably go sit in a room with his mother and sister and wille's bodyguards and eat dinner while stiff in their pants, suffering. on the other, he rushes through getting off with wille, having less time to look presentable, but —

lets not even pretend it's a choice, really. simon already knows. )

You better not laugh, Wille. ( he moves over to where wille was spooked against the wall, coming up to him, batting his hands away from himself. simon spreads his palms on wille's smooth, lean waist, maneuvering from hips to cock breezily. he hums in his ear. ) I know where you sleep at night. I know how easy it is to sneak in, when your door's left unlocked.

( really just rambling, in an effort to get his mind out of panic mode and more in fuck me now, simon mode. he strokes his cock, up and down, letting his mouth find the thrumming beat of wille's pulse in his neck, dragging his teeth against the sensitive parts and only just remembering not to leave a mark. with ease, he sinks down onto his knees, pressing his lips to the pocket of wille's hips. )

I'll torture you, just like this. ( lips on the root of his cock, featherlight, teasing. leaning barely back, simon's tongue laps at the wet tip with a curious lick, lifting his eyes up to bat heavy eyelashes at him. ) Just shut up and cum, baby.

[ordinar]

[The thirty seconds that Linda stands on the other side of the door stretch and screech into an eternity in which everything stands still, except for his heart battering the inside of his ribcage. Later, it might strike him as suspiciously generous that she gave them a whole ten minute warning. He might wonder if she guesses that they're not playing games at all, that it's not a save point they're so frantic to reach.

But right now, all he can think of is Simon, and how his whole body feels wrong with Simon's warmth peeled away from it, and how his dick has never been harder in his life. When Simon's hands come back to him, stroking his shaft as his teeth scrape his pulse, Wilhelm melts down the wall. By the time Simon's lips consecrate the divot of his hip, his back is pressed flat to the mattress and his fingers are tangled in those gorgeous curls. And when that mouth, angelic and devious at once, claims his cock — all of him trembles around a moan. At Simon's throaty command, Wilhelm almost does come.

But— Petting Simon's hair, pulling at his shoulders, he coaxes him to join him. To align their bodies like planets, like the moon and sun in eclipse. Something rare.]

Come on, come on— I want to...mm...come with you, Simon.

[Wilhelm loops an arm around his waist, crashing their hips and grinding their cocks together. As desperate as he is for release, he wants to hold onto this moment for as long as he can. His lips hanging from Simon's, soft curls wound around his fingers, warm skin under his wandering palm. Squeezing Simon's hip, thigh, ass. Friction holding them together like gravity and pulling them apart. Simon's name panting out on every breath, until—

Toes curling, back arching, all of him pulled taut one second and released the next, he comes hard. Pearly spurts of cum spatter his stomach and Simon's sheets. As it tears out of him, his hips keep pushing, his hands keep caressing, and his lips keep babbling kisses in every nook and cranny of Simon's face.]