Declan has the decency to look momentarily contrite after Ronan's small ordeal. He tries not to think of how it felt to slide against the back of Ronan's throat or how good he looks all flushed like that.
"Here." His voice is quiet as he guides Ronan's arm so that his brother's elbow is against his hip. "Lean your weight in, promise I can take it." It might not stop Declan altogether if he gets caught up, but at least Ronan will feel it coming. "Move your hand a little higher. And I'll uhm... try not to do that again."
He lets his fingers brush back through Ronan's hair; his other hand remains tangled with his brother's. He won't let go until Ronan wants him to.
"Try again. Nice and easy."
And he'll try to ignore how much he's aching to come.
Ronan repositions himself more or less the way Declan suggests, drawing closer and pinning down his hip. It's strange to think of Declan losing control in any situation. He's ordinarily so contained, so painfully in command of his expression. It seems impossible that Ronan could have ever unraveled him the way he's done this morning. He doesn't understand this reality that requires him to push back against the urgent thrusting of his brother's hips, to stop Declan from violently claiming his mouth.
"It's okay if you wanna move a little," Ronan tells him. "Or if it's easier for you to..." He can't bring himself to say the words facefuck me just yet, but Declan undoubtedly understands. He already has his hand on Ronan's head, like he means to direct it if necessary.
Leaving that thought in the air, he takes the head of Declan's cock into his mouth again. His tongue swirls around it - once, twice - then drags down as he sinks lower, taking his brother deeper. His hand resumes its stroking from a better angle, working Declan with a lazy twist, the mess of his saliva slicking the way.
Ronan doesn't have to finish the sentence for Declan to imagine it. It would be easier, but can he bring himself to use Ronan like that the first time? His cock throbs at the thought.
Declan head drops back as Ronan's mouth closes around him and his hand twists just so. Even if Ronan is new at this, he's catching on quick. It doesn't take him long to learn the rhythm Ronan's falling into; the next time his brother's head bobs down, Declan gives just a small roll of his hips.
"Fuck, Ronan," he sighs, voice full of breathless praise as his fingers stroke over Ronan's scalp. Amateur effort or not, he isn't going to last like this. Watching his cock disappear past Ronan's lips, feeling the soft heat of his cheeks and the slick slide of his hand--it's all conspiring against Declan's will to draw this out.
"You're uhm--you're gonna have decide if you want it in you or on you."
It hadn't occurred to Ronan that this was even a decision to make. Or, rather, that he'd made his decision the moment he bowed down and took Declan into his mouth. He wouldn't be doing this if he didn't want it inside him.
And besides, it's... already inside him.
His answer is merely a soft hum of assent. The approval in his brother's voice and the encouraging brush of his fingers tells him that their intentions are shared. Declan wants to quench him, and Ronan wants to drink him down.
He doesn't want his brother's seed to simply shoot down his throat, either. He wants to hold it in his mouth and taste it. So he withdraws to keep his attentions shallow, hand working the shaft while he tends to the head. He suckles gently and circles it with his tongue and pumps it with the ring of his lips, urging Declan to give in.
The affirmative hum earns another soft, urgent sound from Declan. Ronan won't pull away long enough to answer and it makes Declan's fingers grip tighter: he squeezes Ronan's hand, pulls his hair.
He lifts his head so that he can watch, staring with lips parted as Ronan backs off to lavish attention on just the head. Jesus. The enthusiasm doesn't wane and he realizes very quickly that Ronan doesn't just want to swallow, he wants to taste.
"Oh, God--fuck--"
It's somewhere between a plea and praise and delirious pleasure. Declan moves his hips in small, shallow little thrusts, chasing the friction of Ronan's hand but careful not to get too rough - he doesn't want to go any deeper than Ronan has him now.
"Ronan." He gasps his brother's name as he hits his peak. Declan goes tense and he moans sharply as he spills over Ronan's tongue. A delicious shiver shoots through him and it takes everything he has to stay focused. He doesn't want to miss a second.
Thick bursts of heat spray onto Ronan's tongue. His mouth fills with his brother's come so much more quickly than he anticipated, some of it spilling past his lips before he can swallow it down. His tongue flicks over the head of Declan's cock in a sloppy attempt to catch the mess and swipe it back into his mouth. Ravenous and greedy, he doesn't stop lapping and sucking until he's drunk every last drop.
Then it's over. He draws back slowly, pressing his palm over his swollen wet lips, and he's left to confront this new reality he occupies. Simultaneously, he savors the aftertaste and feels his stomach turn. Just inches from his mouth, his brother begins to soften in the wake of the climax Ronan brought him to.
He lets go of Declan's hand so that he can sit up properly, still wiping at his face. "Did I do okay?" he asks, his voice muffled into his palm.
His breath is heavy and quick as he watches Ronan demand everything he can get with each suck and flick of his tongue, every little bob of his head, until Declan is sure he has nothing left to give. Ronan's desire for it makes him feel lightheaded, his greed in swallowing him down and seeking more.
For a moment, all Declan can do is breathe. He watches Ronan pull back and wipe his mouth once, then again. Declan is still thoroughly distracted by his brother's soft, slick mouth.
"Did you--" He almost laughs, but instead of saying anything more, Declan leans forward. His hands cradle Ronan's head and he holds his brother still for a kiss. His tongue pushes into Ronan's mouth to taste himself there and he swears his body makes a valiant effort back toward arousal.
"Yeah," he murmurs as he pulls back. His thumbs stroke over Ronan's cheeks. "Yeah you were good."
The shock of his brother's kiss stuns him nearly as much as the load Declan just shot into his mouth. The intimacy of it is so wrong that his heart stops with the fear that divine punishment is about to strike him down.
But with those hands caressing and coaxing him, Ronan relaxes into it and accepts it. He allows his brother to taste as much as he likes. It doesn't count, after all. Declan has kissed him before. Just not this deeply. And who decided where that line should be drawn? Not God. His brother isn't doing anything other than showing Ronan his love.
When the kiss breaks, Ronan looks at him with fresh eyes. "Don't fucking lie," he mumbles, but it's with an embarrassed sort of humor. "I'll get better. I just need practice."
He huffs a breathless laugh. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you some notes." Ronan wants to practice. God hasn't smote them yet, but Declan feels like he's tempting fate as he lets himself imagine that. Will this scene reverse itself? Will he find himself waking up one morning with Ronan's mouth on him, intent on getting better?
Declan kisses Ronan again, then finally lets him go. He wants to drag his brother close, he wants to roll the both of them over and go back to sleep. He wants to sit here and talk about the day coming up, like they always do. The only difference now is they've tasted each other.
They're brothers. They love each other, they take care of each other. That's all.
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"Here." His voice is quiet as he guides Ronan's arm so that his brother's elbow is against his hip. "Lean your weight in, promise I can take it." It might not stop Declan altogether if he gets caught up, but at least Ronan will feel it coming. "Move your hand a little higher. And I'll uhm... try not to do that again."
He lets his fingers brush back through Ronan's hair; his other hand remains tangled with his brother's. He won't let go until Ronan wants him to.
"Try again. Nice and easy."
And he'll try to ignore how much he's aching to come.
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"It's okay if you wanna move a little," Ronan tells him. "Or if it's easier for you to..." He can't bring himself to say the words facefuck me just yet, but Declan undoubtedly understands. He already has his hand on Ronan's head, like he means to direct it if necessary.
Leaving that thought in the air, he takes the head of Declan's cock into his mouth again. His tongue swirls around it - once, twice - then drags down as he sinks lower, taking his brother deeper. His hand resumes its stroking from a better angle, working Declan with a lazy twist, the mess of his saliva slicking the way.
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Declan head drops back as Ronan's mouth closes around him and his hand twists just so. Even if Ronan is new at this, he's catching on quick. It doesn't take him long to learn the rhythm Ronan's falling into; the next time his brother's head bobs down, Declan gives just a small roll of his hips.
"Fuck, Ronan," he sighs, voice full of breathless praise as his fingers stroke over Ronan's scalp. Amateur effort or not, he isn't going to last like this. Watching his cock disappear past Ronan's lips, feeling the soft heat of his cheeks and the slick slide of his hand--it's all conspiring against Declan's will to draw this out.
"You're uhm--you're gonna have decide if you want it in you or on you."
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And besides, it's... already inside him.
His answer is merely a soft hum of assent. The approval in his brother's voice and the encouraging brush of his fingers tells him that their intentions are shared. Declan wants to quench him, and Ronan wants to drink him down.
He doesn't want his brother's seed to simply shoot down his throat, either. He wants to hold it in his mouth and taste it. So he withdraws to keep his attentions shallow, hand working the shaft while he tends to the head. He suckles gently and circles it with his tongue and pumps it with the ring of his lips, urging Declan to give in.
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He lifts his head so that he can watch, staring with lips parted as Ronan backs off to lavish attention on just the head. Jesus. The enthusiasm doesn't wane and he realizes very quickly that Ronan doesn't just want to swallow, he wants to taste.
"Oh, God--fuck--"
It's somewhere between a plea and praise and delirious pleasure. Declan moves his hips in small, shallow little thrusts, chasing the friction of Ronan's hand but careful not to get too rough - he doesn't want to go any deeper than Ronan has him now.
"Ronan." He gasps his brother's name as he hits his peak. Declan goes tense and he moans sharply as he spills over Ronan's tongue. A delicious shiver shoots through him and it takes everything he has to stay focused. He doesn't want to miss a second.
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Thick bursts of heat spray onto Ronan's tongue. His mouth fills with his brother's come so much more quickly than he anticipated, some of it spilling past his lips before he can swallow it down. His tongue flicks over the head of Declan's cock in a sloppy attempt to catch the mess and swipe it back into his mouth. Ravenous and greedy, he doesn't stop lapping and sucking until he's drunk every last drop.
Then it's over. He draws back slowly, pressing his palm over his swollen wet lips, and he's left to confront this new reality he occupies. Simultaneously, he savors the aftertaste and feels his stomach turn. Just inches from his mouth, his brother begins to soften in the wake of the climax Ronan brought him to.
He lets go of Declan's hand so that he can sit up properly, still wiping at his face. "Did I do okay?" he asks, his voice muffled into his palm.
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For a moment, all Declan can do is breathe. He watches Ronan pull back and wipe his mouth once, then again. Declan is still thoroughly distracted by his brother's soft, slick mouth.
"Did you--" He almost laughs, but instead of saying anything more, Declan leans forward. His hands cradle Ronan's head and he holds his brother still for a kiss. His tongue pushes into Ronan's mouth to taste himself there and he swears his body makes a valiant effort back toward arousal.
"Yeah," he murmurs as he pulls back. His thumbs stroke over Ronan's cheeks. "Yeah you were good."
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But with those hands caressing and coaxing him, Ronan relaxes into it and accepts it. He allows his brother to taste as much as he likes. It doesn't count, after all. Declan has kissed him before. Just not this deeply. And who decided where that line should be drawn? Not God. His brother isn't doing anything other than showing Ronan his love.
When the kiss breaks, Ronan looks at him with fresh eyes. "Don't fucking lie," he mumbles, but it's with an embarrassed sort of humor. "I'll get better. I just need practice."
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Declan kisses Ronan again, then finally lets him go. He wants to drag his brother close, he wants to roll the both of them over and go back to sleep. He wants to sit here and talk about the day coming up, like they always do. The only difference now is they've tasted each other.
They're brothers. They love each other, they take care of each other. That's all.