Chapter 9: The Heat of a Beating Heart

Alastair bares his fangs in a rare, toothy grin and sets the idea firmly in his head that humans need to breathe before resuming his efforts to taste every corner of Oliver’s mouth.

He licks into him and slides a hand down his back as he leans over him once more. Alastair feels a shiver climb from the base of Oliver’s spine and almost shake them apart with its force by the time it reaches his shoulders.

Oliver laughs against his lips then begins an assault of closed mouth pecks to Alastair’s lips and neck, pulling him down to lick and nip at the pulse point beneath his jaw. Alastair feels something spark and snap inside him. A moan catches in his chest and rumbles out closer to a growl than anything else.

“F*ck.”

Oliver’s voice cracks as he says it. Alastair feels intoxicated by the sound, instantly infected with an addict's desire to hear more. He moves a knee to rest on the chair between Oliver’s legs and pushes forward until he can feel the pulse of Oliver’s desire, so hot against his icy skin that he sets his jaw to keep from hiding.

Oliver, to Alastair’s delight, releases another broken sound of desperation and pushes his hips forward to grind against Alastair’s knee.

Oliver then begins slapping at his chest with no real force, clearly asking for something that Alastair cannot decipher without words. Thankfully, it appears that Oliver needed to only catch his breath before speaking.

“Switch,” he manages, vaguely waving between the two of them.

Alastair gets the idea and allows Oliver to manhandle him a bit in order to replace Oliver’s spot in the chair. He mourns the loss of the hottest part of Oliver’s pressed against him only for a moment because Oliver’s next move has him straddling Alastair’s lap.

Oliver wastes no time grinding down into him where Alastair becomes aggressively aware just how hard he’s become. There is no blood in his veins to cause this biological phenomenon, so there’s no heat to it.

Alastair has spent so long in recent years treating this basic need like a chore that he’d all but forgotten that humans use blood for most bodily functions. This means that, as their hips crash together, he feels the jolt at the temperature change and then that body consuming shiver that comes with adjusting to a heat that one so desperately needs.

Alastair releases a gust of air he doesn’t remember taking in and blinks up at Oliver who looks oddly bemused and somehow further away. Alastair creases his brow and blinks around to realize that this chair is an old recliner and, in his exuberance, he’d forced it back without using the proper mechanism.

Oops.

Alastair is certain if he had the ability to blush, he’d be flush with embarrassment. It’s not that he is exactly inexperienced in this area, it's just been sometime. Not to mention Oliver is…well Oliver. It’s not that often that he’d sought out partners in his past for increasing fear of what his family would put them through. At most, in the last few decades, he’d taken to secretive hookups and even they ended up being more trouble than they were worth after a while.

This feels new and exciting and, frankly, a little terrifying. Alastair has had himself and his emotions on lock for a very long time. He simply doesn’t have room or time for them when he has a full time job babysitting his siblings.

Meeting Oliver for the first time with his colorful mess of cleverness and gentle confidence, made something crack open in Alastair that had long remained dormant. A Pandora’s box of curiosity, desire, and longing. He had been missing something for so long that he’d forgotten that he needed it in the first place.

Not just this specific type of intimacy, but intimacy at all. Alastair is thrown out of his thoughts as the light shifts above him and Oliver comes into view above him. He is haloed by the afternoon sun, warming them both through the window across the room.

Alastair feels his face ache with it’s unconscious effort to mirror the perfect smile Oliver’s looks down on him with. Wind rushes between them as Oliver practically collapses on him and their lips find each other again.

Alastair feel’s Oliver’s hand snake down to feel over his crotch, in response to which Alastair can do nothing but moan greedily into Oliver’s mouth. Oliver then fumbles over Alastair’s belt buckle and not one, but two, buttons beneath it. Alastair cannot stop the laughter than curls from his lips at Oliver’s defeated whine.

“Really,” Oliver breathes. He is clearly attempting to scold Alastair, but the performance is tarnished by the way his body trembles with desire and anticipation above him. “It’s inconsiderate at this point,” Oliver complains as Alastair shifts him around slightly to get his own hands to work on his fastenings. “You’re like a puzzle box at this point.”

Oliver huffs, but he’s smiling when Alastair finishes his task and looks back up at him. Oliver then wastes no time slipping a hot hand beneath Alastair’s boxers and grabbing ahold of him. Alastair throws his head back on a hiss as his adjusts to the heat then rolls his body up to claim the other in their most heated kiss yet. The Alastair of some impossible time ago who wished to savor things slowly was devoured and replaced by an animal with a single goal.

He finds this new Alastair taking immediate pleasure in the yelps and moans he pulls from Oliver before he pops the button on Oliver’s jeans and pulls them down, along with Oliver’s briefs, around his thighs in one aggressive go.

He rocks against Oliver’s grip and slides his own smooth hand along the stiff heat between Oliver’s tan thighs. Oliver pulls away from Alastair’s assault on his lips and his voice breaks on a moan. Alastair can feel the sound vibrating from deep in his chest as Oliver collapses fully on top of him, his face tucked into Alastair’s neck.

Oliver seems incapable of not making sounds after that. Gusts of wind along with sweet little cries of pleasure puff against Alastair’s ear in time with the twisting and stroking of his hand. Oliver’s hand fumbles deliciously in its own ministrations. Stubbornly it presses on, cleverly adding pressure to places Alastair would have never even considered before despite even the relentless pace Alastair was now putting Oliver through.

Oliver grows louder and his breath comes quicker.

“Ah, slow- if you don’t- I’m-“ Oliver attempts to warn him, but Alastair feels as if he might fall to pieces at any moment if he doesn’t get to feel Oliver release. Alastair quickens the pace of his hand further. Oliver squirms in his grip and gives up on his hold on Alistair in favor of pawing at Alastair’s hips, his chest, the sides of his face.

He at last finds purchase in Alastair’s hair and raises himself up just enough so that Alastair can see his face when his mouth falls open and his eyes roll closed.

Alastair strokes him through his climax, curious how long he might still pull gasps from Oliver’s rung out lungs. He watches Oliver with something near obsession as his face softens and then wrinkles into a wince. Alastair releases his grip easily as Oliver weakly shoves at his wrist.

Oliver releases a full body sigh then and allows his lower half to collapse onto Alastair as well. Alastair bites back the shock of pain and pleasure that comes with the slide of Oliver’s bare skin against Alastair’s still very hard c*ck. Still, caught up in processing and attempting to memorize the images of Oliver c*mming kept his immediate release less than urgent. He runs a hand along Oliver’s spine, still clothed somehow.

“You…” Oliver says after roughly a minute and then giggles helplessly. “You…” he tries again, but then seems to get distracted by pressing his mouth to any bare skin on Alastair he can reach.

This does not exclude his chest as Oliver kisses over each rib. It’s not until Oliver’s grinning up at him from between his knees that Alastair’s lust addled brain realizes what’s about to happen.

He is only just allowed that revelation before Oliver descends on him with a practiced skill that sends Alastair’s thoughts on immediate release firmly back into the urgent needs category.

“Oh, Oliver-!” he finds himself saying on a bewildered breath.

He rakes both hands into Oliver’s curls and sits himself up as Oliver spins his hot tongue around Alastair’s not insignificant girth. He thought Oliver’s hand felt nice, but his mouth is something out of a gospel. It’s hotter than any part of him Alastair has felt yet and the wet slide has his insides coiling and eager for release in a matter of seconds.

“I’m going-Oliver-“ he warns between his teeth.

Oliver only hums, long and low and looks at him with such a manic thirst that there’s nothing left for Alastair to do besides fall. His pleasure tips over the edge as his hands keep a white knuckled grip on Oliver’s hair and he curls over him. Oliver grabs at his hands and Alastair manages to muster enough brain power to let him go.

Oliver’s mouth makes an audible pop as he slides free only to lick at any of Alastair’s release that didn’t make it into his mouth. Alastair tolerates this for a moment until the zaps Oliver’s touch send up his spine start to hurt.

Alastair grabs at Oliver’s shoulders until he gets a good enough grip on his shirt. He has the brilliant idea then to pull that awful thing out of the way before hauling Oliver back on top of him.

They stay like that for a long time, just breathing, drifting in bliss, until Oliver’s shiver’s display signs of being more than just the aftershocks of pleasure.