Page 38 of Speak in Fever
Things are a lot different than the rush of last time.
There’s not as much alcohol in his system, and he’s not running on the adrenaline of finding out Percy wants him to.
He knows now that Percy wants him, and even if that’s a revelation that will never stop astounding him, it’s not quite as shocking as it was before.
Different isn’t bad though. It feels more intimate like this, with Percy carefully undressing him and helping him onto the bed to get settled. Percy gets a bottle of lube from his bathroom bag, and settles on the bed between Rath’s knees, still fully dressed and his expression dark.
The nerves start to set in once Percy has three fingers slicked up and one prodding gently at his hole. It feels– kind of weird, unfamiliar, and his hard-on from making out with Percy has started to flag a little. Percy smoothes one hand down his thigh.
“Just relax,” he says gently, “try not to tense up.”
As soon as Rath manages to consciously relax he feels that finger start to slide in.
He breathes in and out once, slowly, and Percy croons a quiet that’s it, good boy when he doesn’t even clench around it.
The first finger slides all the way in and Percy pauses, doesn’t move, gives him time to adjust. Rath wiggles his hips a little, bears down on the intrusion, and it’s– odd.
Not good, not yet, not the way people make it sound.
“Is it okay?” Percy asks. He must see it on Rath’s face, in the way his cock is only half-hard now against his hip, that he’s not really enjoying it much. Rath shrugs.
“It’s okay,” he says, “doesn’t hurt.”
He realises belatedly that his hand is still gripping Percy’s shoulder in a vice-grip. He loosens it a bit but doesn’t let go, feels like he needs the anchor to keep him centred.
Percy’s finger drags out and presses back in again and okay, okay, maybe that feels a little bit good; Rath’s cock starts thickening up again and he can’t help the way his stomach muscles tense visibly.
Another couple slow thrusts and Rath learns that if he clenches down a little on each inward stroke it makes sparks of warmth come to life in his gut, and realises that the thought of being forced open around Percy’s fingers has him feeling all hot.
He registers the slightly wicked look that crosses Percy’s face just too late to prepare himself for the firm press of a fingertip against his prostate.
And of course he knew it was going to feel good–everyone always says it feels amazing–but he’s not prepared for the visceral reaction he has to it.
“Oh– oh my god, please –” Lightning crackles up his spine and makes all of his extremities tingle.
A high whine gets stuck in his throat when Percy does it again, again, drags his finger back and forth over the bundle of nerves.
Rath’s whole body jerks on the fifth or sixth pass, when it’s just starting to feel a little sensitive and like he could probably come from it if Percy were to continue.
“It’s good now?” Percy’s grin is knowing, and Rath can only whine again when he stops. He nevers wants it to end , thinks he’ll probably become addicted to it in no time.
“It’s– it’s so–”
“I know, I know,” Percy croons, and keeps up the devastating little strokes of his finger, “think I can add another?”
Rath couldn’t say no if he tried. No sooner has he started nodding frantically that he feels the blunt press of another finger at his rim, the first one drawing out to accommodate it.
It’s a slight stretch this time, burns a bit until both fingers have slid all the way in and— and then Rath feels so full , oh , it’s so—
“‘M so full,” he slurs, just so Percy knows exactly how amazing he’s making him feel. Percy grins down at him, pupils blown and looking so ecstatic , so happy, like making Rath feel good is all he ever wants to do.
“Look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, giving these tiny overwhelming twitches of his fingertips, “all full up with my fingers. You’re so gorgeous.”
Rath drags him down for another kiss, moaning into it when the movement jostles Percy’s fingers inside him.
Percy’s mouth is hungry, desperate, licking past Rath’s lips with a fervour that makes him giddy; a particularly hard nip to his bottom lip is punctuated with the first gentle pull out of Percy’s fingers and Rath all but whines, high and needy.
Percy doesn’t even ask him this time, just starts pumping his fingers at a pace that steals Rath’s breath away.
On every inward thrust Percy finds his prostate and Rath realises with a jolt that he’s close , that being stuffed with two fingers has him hurtling towards the edge already.
Maybe he should be embarrassed that he’s so easy or so needy but with the way Percy’s gazing at him he just can’t make himself feel it.
“I’m—I’m close, Percy, please —“
Percy shushes him gently, giving a sharp crook of his fingers that has Rath’s back arching off the bed. Holy shit.
“Think you can take one more finger?”
The mere thought of it is almost too much to handle. Rath nods, clenching down a couple times around the intrusion; he feels scorched alive by the look Percy is fixing him with as he adds even more lube to his fingers, as a third one prods at his rim.
“Just breathe slowly,” Percy says as he starts to press it in, “try to stay relaxed.”
Rath does his absolute damnedest, although he ends up mostly holding his breath until it’s all the way in.
And once it is– his eyes roll back because oh god , he’s never felt so full , didn’t know it could feel like this .
Percy stills all his fingers then, doesn’t move a muscle as he allows Rath to adjust– Rath’s having none of that.
“Percy, move. You’ve gotta move.”
Percy complies easily, like he can’t possibly wait another second. Rath can hardly breathe when he starts to pump his fingers, steady and relentless and oh, oh , Rath’s gonna come–
“I’m gonna– Percy please –” He’s not even sure what he’s begging for, just that he’s running on pure sensation and that he’s never come untouched in his life but is all too close to finding out whether or not he can.
Percy nods and doubles down on his efforts, crooking his fingers against Rath’s prostate over and over and over, back and forth and in devastating circles.
“Yeah, yeah, go on, come for me.” His pupils are blown, full of awe and lust, and Rath holds his gaze for as long as he can before he feels like he’s going to drown it.
This orgasm builds slowly but earth-shatteringly surely, a tug in his gut that aches in its intensity.
Rath struggles to draw adequate air in as it reaches its peak and then he’s coming, spurting untouched over his stomach and gasping and writhing on Percy’s fingers.
He’s never felt anything like it, the way it just goes on and on and on until his body feels completely spent and wrung-dry but god , he never wants it to end –
“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Percy tells him, helping him ride out the aftershocks with smaller, gentler circles against his prostate. Rath shakes his head when the stimulation starts to tail off, grasps at Percy’s wrist with clumsy fingers because no , he doesn’t want it to stop –
“Another,” he gasps out, twitching from oversensitivity. There’s sweat beading on his forehead and his whole body is trembling but he’s never felt this good, never felt like this – like his whole body is scalding, all open and dripping.
“Another…?” Percy starts, hesitant, “another finger? Are you sure? Don’t wanna make you oversensitive.”
Rath shakes his head frantically. “No, no, another– make me come again. Please.”
Percy’s eyes go impossibly wide. He’s stilled his fingers completely and Rath’s hitching his hips down to try and compensate but it’s no good, it’s not enough, he hasn’t even fully gone soft.
“Are you sure?” Percy asks, and Rath appreciates the concern, really, but he thinks he’s probably gonna implode if he doesn’t come again within the next few minutes.
“Are you really gonna make me beg?”
Percy’s lips twitch up into a tantalising little grin.
He’s so, so hard in his boxers, Rath can see the wet patch in the material that seems to grow before his eyes, and his mouth feels very empty all of a sudden.
That thought and every other one is dismissed when Percy crooks his fingers up again hard.
“Tempting offer,” he says, “but I’d rather see you fall apart on my fingers.”
Rath’s head falls back onto the pillow when Percy switches back to the firm, relentless circles that drove him absolutely crazy last time.
He can feel that he’s not going to last long, all of his nerves fried and red-hot in the wake of his last orgasm.
It almost– it almost hurts , the intensity of it, the way the pleasure is so sharp it morphs into pain.
Rath can hardly keep his eyes open and certainly can’t keep any of the sounds that fall from his lips at bay.
The first tear falls somewhere between Percy murmuring,“Good, you’re so good, so gorgeous,” and a thumb pressing down on his perineum.
Rath gasps as it rolls down his cheek, hot against his even hotter skin, only to sniffle a little when it’s closely followed by a couple more. Percy’s ministrations falter, then.
“Rath, you’re–”
Oh, Rath has never seen his eyes this dark. It almost swallows him up, deep and swirling and hungry.
“I’m fine,” he gasps out, “it’s just– good, it’s so good , please don’t stop–” He breaks off on what can only be described as a sob, beyond oversensitive when he clenches down on Percy’s fingers.
Percy checks in, again, because he’s so sweet and careful, and when Rath reassures him shakily that he’s fine he picks the pace back up.
Rath’s moans have started to pitch higher, into whines that he might have been embarrassed about once– but they only seem to encourage Percy, to make him lean down and seal his lips over Rath’s in a deep, messy kiss.
It’s filthy, too much tongue and teeth that click, saliva starting to drip down Rath’s chin and it’s good, it’s so good , and the edge of pain has started to morph into bright, blinding pleasure again with the first hints of another orgasm.
It’s just– it’s all so much. He’s dripping precome all over his already soiled stomach and doesn’t think he’s ever got so wet.
“You gonna come again?” Percy asks, breathless. “So pretty when you come for me.”
How could Rath possibly let him down when he asks like that ? Not that he’d be able to hold back against the hot tug in his gut at this point anyway, but the gentle praise does wonders.
“Yeah, yeah, gonna–gonna come for you, please–” Rath’s not even sure how he’s coherent at this point, whole body locked up to the point he’s worried about cramps later.
The warmth pooling in his gut gets hotter, hotter, till it’s almost burning and this one is so much more than his first orgasm, god, it’s so–
Percy starts pumping his fingers harder, trailing his lips down Rath’s neck to his chest and his lips have barely closed around a nipple when Rath’s vision whites out again.
His mouth is open on a soundless, helpless gasp, eyes rolled back while it washes through him and just keeps going .
As wave after wave after wave of pleasure course through him Rath is vaguely aware of everything slowly fading out; of the sensations that were once razor-sharp turning muted, of Percy’s voice sounding far-off, of not quite being able to force his eyes back open.
It’s a nice place to float. He can’t even feel the gross stickiness of his stomach, or the rivulets of sweat dripping down his temples or the tears drying on his cheeks, but nor can he feel– nor can he feel Percy . That’s not good. He doesn’t like that.
Nevertheless, it takes him a few minutes to come back. Percy is lying by his side when he comes to, and Rath curls into his body as soon as he feels like he can move. That’s better, so much better. His stomach is clean, too; god, Percy is just the best.
“Welcome back, beautiful boy.” Percy has his face buried in Rath’s hair, and it’s all gross and sweaty and Rath has half a mind to complain but finds that his tongue feels just a little too heavy for that. Besides, if Percy’s happy, he’s happy.
“That wasn’t too much?” Percy continues, and Rath shakes his head with a hum. It was too much, but it was so, so good.
“It was amazing,” he croaks, and Percy scrabbles immediately for the water on the nightstand.
“Here,” he says, holding it up to Rath’s lips, “drink.”
It’s when they’re settling in again that Rath realises Percy still hasn’t come. He’s pressing hard against Rath’s hip and, well, that is absolutely not good enough, he certainly isn’t having that.
“Can I suck you off?” It comes out a little croaky still, and Rath clears his throat to try and fix it. Percy’s huff of laughter gently ruffles his hair.
“You don't need to do that.”
Rath makes a soft little noise of dissatisfaction. Sure, he may be a tad lacking in experience in the gay sex department, but he’s not just gonna leave Percy hard while he came twice .
“Please, I wanna–”
“I’ll settle for a handjob,” Percy says, and Rath knows it’s just to placate him, “you need to rest.”
Rath rolls his eyes. He settles better on his side, though, wastes no time pulling Percy’s boxers down and wrapping one hand around him.
The whine Percy muffles in his hair is soft, desperate, betraying just how long he’s been on the edge.
Rath takes mercy on him and immediately sets a decent pace, finds his hands are a little shaky still but fully functional enough to give a decent handjob.
Percy’s breath starts hitching when Rath thumbs under the head of his cock.
He’s so sensitive, Rath’s amazing captain, set off by the smallest touch.
Rath dips into the slit to gather more precome– not that he needs it, since Percy’s cock is already so wet and dripping– and then it’s a matter of seconds before Percy’s whining all high and breathy and hitching his hips up into Rath's grip like he can’t help it.
One more well-timed touch to the head of his cock and Percy comes hard, crying out softly. He’s so gorgeous. Rath watches him spurt all over his stomach with nothing other than awe, pumping him gently through it.
Percy kisses him, gentle and slow, and Rath melts against him.