henchweasel | duplicity: inbox

Eggsy laughs under his breath.

"Yeah, don't worry. I might not be great at this but I got manners."

He starts stroking his shaft with one hand, dipping his head to take the first couple inches back into his mouth. Eventually he works out a rhythm, bobbing his head to stroke Fabian's dick with his lips and tongue, sometimes pausing to focus his attention on his tip - but not enough to get him wriggling, as much as he enjoyed seeing that.

He's abstractly aware that this is turning him on, too. Not necessarily the sensation of sucking dick, but the intimacy of it, the sounds Fabian's making, the awareness of what he's doing? Yeah, it's doing something for him.

Talking about manners over a blowjob. Fabian can't help but laugh a little, though it quickly melts into a pleased sigh. Well, Eggsy's certainly a quick study, because once he falls into a groove, Fabian's already forgotten his terrible, horrible, grueling dick trauma. (Not that he's got a tendency towards dramatics or anything.) Eggsy's found a good rhythm, one that sends his arousal rising, peaking, but pulling back before he gets wiggly and overstimulated. It doesn't take long before Fabian's getting noisy again, simply losing himself in the pleasure of it all, his hand finding the other man again, stroking his hair, the back of his neck with affectionate touches. The warmth, wetness, pressure, that's all good, and so's the feeling of another body between his legs, and the sounds coming from Eggsy's own mouth as he works Fabian over, and... right, the intimacy.

He'd forgotten what it felt like, for sex to be fun, an activity with somebody he actually enjoys the company of, rather than an endless power play or an impersonal quickie with a near stranger. He doesn't have to be on right now.

He's rolling his hips lightly, body moving on autopilot as his dick seeks more, but he's still careful not to lose himself in the movement and push too hard. He clutches the sheets with his free hand and manages to interrupt his own moaning long enough to find his words.

"Fuck, ah, that's good, so good, I'm gonna--"

Well, a gentleman warns before he comes.

Eggsy is - maybe more pleased with himself than he'd imagined he would or should be. He'd suspected that he wouldn't be going hard enough or fast enough or - something, that Fabian would have to pull him off and finish with his fist. Embarrassing.

As pleasantly surprised as he is by this development, then, he completely ignores what it actually means when a man tells you he's about to get off.

The first spurt of come on his tongue startles him enough to make him pull up, and very quickly his first blowjob also becomes his first facial.

Fabian's too busy closing his eyes and riding the wave of his orgasm to really register what's happened beyond "hey, there's a mouth on my dick and now there's not," so he doesn't have the... wherewithal to even try to redirect his aim or anything. He's just got that toe-curling, pleasure spiking rush going as he ejaculates... several spurts right on Eggsy's face.

Fabian settles back on the mattress, a relaxed, contented smile curling at his lips, as some post-orgasm giddiness begins to sink in.

"Not bad for a first, ah..." And now he takes a look at Eggsy. "...oh."

Eggsy blinks back up at him, streaks of come clinging to his chin and cheeks - then he just laughs.

He can't help it. Everything about this is so fucking ridiculous.

"...Christ. At least you didn't get any in my eyes."

Okay, oookay, what to do here, what's the proper etiquette when you accidentally jizz on someone's face? Fabian's not used to being, you know, considerate of others, so his initial reaction is just a bunch of useless stammering.

"I, ahhh, I-- I didn't mean to..."

Then Eggsy laughs, which is momentarily perplexing (mostly because Fabian would probably be screeching in an affronted meltdown if their positions were reversed), before it becomes contagious, and Fabian finds himself laughing along with him at the absolute absurdity of it all.

"Occupational hazard, it happens to the best of us. Well, not me, but..." Nobody has ever come on Fabian's face, and nobody ever will. "Here, let me--" He hops out of the bed, hiking his pants back up as he heads to the bathroom to grab some tissues. And a hand towel.

"Occupational?" Eggsy scoffs, though he's nowhere near offended. "I got called a rent boy enough at home, cheers."

He accepts the tissue to go about wiping his face.

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