Jacobi will feel Kepler's hips press up against him from behind, rocking against him in return as he speaks. As he strokes. As his other hand, done with the trousers, starts the more delicate work of getting his underwear.
"I don't need that kind of luck," he says, and there's a faint growl to the lower notes of the words, the bottom of his register. "If I'm in the shower? I will happily" and that comes with a slightly firmer squeeze of one hand, "accept some company."
There's a soft gasp as his brain tries to keep up with what Warren's saying, but he's very quickly losing his concentration. "Uh uh, no way," he tells him. "You don't - get every time. Sometimes...Sometimes, I like to know that you're suffering without me."
He drops his hand from his arm, digging fingers into Warren's thigh instead as he turns to give him a bruising kiss.
That hand only stills as the kiss collides with him, takes over his attention utterly, because he needs to focus on nothing else. That low rumble in his chest rises a little, the passion of it making his heart beat harder, a little faster, and he returns the kiss with just as much desperation. He won't even consider words until Jacobi needs to breathe and the kiss breaks.
"I suffer without you. Every time."
Then Jacobi's being kissed in return, that same bruising intensity, the hand that had been working on his underwear gripping his hip hard enough to leave marks.
"You're so dramatic," he groans, as if he's not the same way. He turns to face him fully, taking a few steps to lean back against the wall, though he keeps his hands on him. He's drawn to him, to his chest, fingers running over the muscles he feels underneath his shirt.
"And you stopped," he adds in a whining complaint. "To think I was gonna get on my knees for you later."
There's a firm squeeze before he starts again, starting the pace slower again, his other hand bracketing around his waist in a way that feels a little like he could just lift him up from there and go.
But he's got no shortage of confidence here, as much as his devotion, his worship. He leans in, down, and he's claiming Jacobi's lips this time, hand moving in time to the rhythm of the kiss until he turns and starts kissing along Jacobi's jaw and the pace increases.
"You are," he says without a hint of doubt, "because you love it almost as much as I do." A nip to his jaw. "My hand in your hair, tugging hard every time you make me want to fuck your mouth."
He's caught for a moment between wanting to continue arguing and just giving in. Of course, he chooses chaos. Even as he stops thinking properly. Even as he grows warmer under his touch.
The words are halting, laced with soft noises that he knows, without wondering, drive Warren mad. For all their restraint in public, Jacobi doesn't hold back here.
"I love making you ache for it, though." He rakes fingers along his shoulders, under his shirt, digging welts there that regretfully never last. He knows he won't last, so he adds, in a murmur: "Do you think you'll beg me?"
Jacobi tilts his head back against the wall as he finishes, raising up on his toes with a deep groan.
He's got one hand busy working him through it and eventually, down from it. But the other hand is stroking his skin where he can, softer than any of this has any business being.
"I always ache for it," he says easily enough as he smudges kisses here and there. "And... there's no shame in begging for that mouth. There's nothing better."
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Re: from #ORTL031
"I don't need that kind of luck," he says, and there's a faint growl to the lower notes of the words, the bottom of his register. "If I'm in the shower? I will happily" and that comes with a slightly firmer squeeze of one hand, "accept some company."
A low laugh.
"As long as you've got some extra time to spend."
Re: from #ORTL031
He drops his hand from his arm, digging fingers into Warren's thigh instead as he turns to give him a bruising kiss.
Re: from #ORTL031
"I suffer without you. Every time."
Then Jacobi's being kissed in return, that same bruising intensity, the hand that had been working on his underwear gripping his hip hard enough to leave marks.
Re: from #ORTL031
"And you stopped," he adds in a whining complaint. "To think I was gonna get on my knees for you later."
Re: from #ORTL031
But he's got no shortage of confidence here, as much as his devotion, his worship. He leans in, down, and he's claiming Jacobi's lips this time, hand moving in time to the rhythm of the kiss until he turns and starts kissing along Jacobi's jaw and the pace increases.
"You are," he says without a hint of doubt, "because you love it almost as much as I do." A nip to his jaw. "My hand in your hair, tugging hard every time you make me want to fuck your mouth."
Re: from #ORTL031
The words are halting, laced with soft noises that he knows, without wondering, drive Warren mad. For all their restraint in public, Jacobi doesn't hold back here.
"I love making you ache for it, though." He rakes fingers along his shoulders, under his shirt, digging welts there that regretfully never last. He knows he won't last, so he adds, in a murmur: "Do you think you'll beg me?"
Jacobi tilts his head back against the wall as he finishes, raising up on his toes with a deep groan.
But dammit, he got the last word.
Re: from #ORTL031
"I always ache for it," he says easily enough as he smudges kisses here and there. "And... there's no shame in begging for that mouth. There's nothing better."