museyboxy | Thread continuations

For once in his life Garrett actually listens, descending on Barry while still dripping wet. Hey, he asked.

"Is this better?" he smirks, before rolling Barry over into the massive fucking wet spot he just created on the sheets. "How about this? Perfect for fucking, right?" Garrett leans down and nips at his shoulder playfully. "YOu know, for a incredible genius, sometimes you're not too bright."

The bed is hardly going to stay clean and dry for long once they get going, but for the ribbing Barry speeds from beneath Garrett's body, exchanging the wet sheets for new ones right from under him. When he's done, he slides right back into Garrett's arms, returning that smirk.

"Seems fine to me."

Garrett doesn't even have time to fall onto the mattress before Barry is under him again, positioned a little different, on a different-looking bed. That kind of surprise is never really going to get old or fail to make him laugh in awe.

"You little shit," he fires back, grin getting sharper as he says it. They come out more often now with less prompting, like they're inching into permanence- but in times like this, it doesn't worry him. Barry makes that creeping demonic trait feel okay, like it's alright for him to have.

So he embraces it. Doesn't try to put them away like normal, but lets them slide out to accentuate his grin as his hand wanders up to bury in Barry's hair.

"You know we're still gonna get the sheets wet." With something, at least. He leans down and catches Barry's lip in his teeth, letting them dig in so delicately.

The site of those fangs has Barry flushing with prickling heat, his eyes fastened to their flashing white tips before they come too close to see, pricking instead at his tender bottom lip. The nip that Garrett gives him is so careful, so close to breaking skin without quite piercing through, and when the tiniest drop of his own blood breaches the surface of his bottom lip Barry groans, lifting his head in search of more. Already the tiny puncture is healed, but the taste of iron endures as Barry's tongue sweeps forward, hot and demanding.

It really is delightful to feel how much Barry loves this. When they first came in Garrett had been so worried about how it would affect his sex life- he always loved biting and leaving marks, and surely no one would want to get near that with such sharp fangs? But now Barry is kissing him, head lifted up to seek him out as if nothing in the world could compare to his. Garrett leans down to meet him, tongue stroking against Barry's and fangs catching against softness- lip, tongue, he's not even sure. Doesn't even try to be careful when they're kissing like this.

That single moan has Garrett flushing as well, his hand sliding down Barry's body, down his side, grabbing Barry's ass and bringing their naked bodies even closer together. When he breaks the kiss to pull Barry's head back, when he bites Barry softly with the tease of fangs half-retracted, he grinds against Barry hard, gasping for the friction and heat.

Barry shudders as his throat is bared, the long column of skin blemishless but for a scattering of moles and one silvery, permanent bite. Garrett is so hot and hard against him, the thickness against his own cock making Barry's mouth water, and he grips the meat of Garrett's ass to keep their bodies close, grinding right back up to meet him until the heady pleasure has him falling back against the sheets. At his neck, Garrett's teeth scrape, not a promise or even a threat yet but a maddening tease, and he bites his bottom lip, worrying at the already faded mark to soothe his own surging anticipation.

A low sound rumbles against Barry's throat as their cocks grind together, a shudder running through him that has him biting harder. No fangs yet, no, he wants to suck dark marks into that pretty skin, he wants to kiss every freckle and mole he can find, he wants to trace constellations with his tongue while tugging at Barry's hair and holding him close.

Garrett ravishes him, marking up his skin as well as he can while reveling in the heat of Barry's body, the little shudder running through him, the tension Garrett can already feel thrumming through that long, lean form. The grinding of their bodies picks up into proper thrusting, their cocks sliding together in a delirious rhythm that makes him groan roughly. He kisses a path up Barry's throat, teeth catching at his earlobe lightly in contrast to those rocking motions and the heat they spark.

"Mmm," he rumbles in a hungry tone rich with suggestion. "Since I tortured you before, it's only fair I make it up to you."

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