pontmercyfriend | You're something like a phenomena. [For Freddie; backdated to the night of Nov. 30th]

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You're something like a phenomena. [For Freddie; backdated to the night of Nov. 30th]

Continued from here.

Marius delights in the huff of laughter that escapes from Freddie as he presses his hand against him, letting the breathless sound and the way Freddie's eyelids flutter wash right over him. He barely registers the noise of the door opening, clutching as he is at Freddie. He stumbles into the room, dragged by the front of his shirt, and just catches a glimpse of the space of it before Freddie has him pressed up against a wall.

He groans as their mouths meet once more, frantic and hungry; yearning for even more physical closeness, as though they could fuse together through their lips alone. Marius drinks in the sight of Freddie with eager eyes, no longer restrained by the dimly light atmosphere of the Halloween party or any sort of nerves. His mind whirls as he grasps at Freddie with desperate hands, shivering as Freddie exposes the skin beneath his shirt.

And then Freddie has his wrists pinned to the wall.

Marius' head falls back, neck arching with an elongated breath of a moan at the feeling; he shudders. He moans again into Freddie's mouth, rolling his hips forward onto the leg between his thighs, craving the friction desperately.

He whimpers into the words Freddie presses against his lips, nearly rising onto his toes and hips arching forward as Freddie squeezes his wrists. He spills curses in French and English into his mouth before he manages enough focus for coherent speech.

"As many times as you want," he whispers back, voice raw from wanting as he tries to catch his breath. He watches Freddie through heavily-lidded eyes, savoring the sight of his kiss-swollen lips and the desire radiating from all over his body. He rolls his hips again, both for the friction and to encourage Freddie further, egg him on, as the saying goes.

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The look Marius gives him is full of such open want that Freddie feels it down to his toes. Though hardly the first he's seen it, not even from Marius, it still goes straight down his spine to settle in the pit of his stomach, making his cock twitch and his heart pound. No one wants him except in these moments but even this, he knows, is better than nothing at all.

And Marius follows orders wonderfully, those lips quirking into a wide grin, cheeks still flushed even as he rolls onto his front, glancing back over his shoulder, still with that look in his eyes.

"Brilliant," Freddie replies, bending then to press a kiss to the hair just behind Marius's ear, drawing a line lower to the nape of his neck. It nearly feels just a bit too intimate and Freddie rectifies that by using his teeth on the soft skin of of Marius's shoulder, not hard enough to wound, but with definite intent. He then works his way back down Marius's spine, licking every bump and ridge and freckle along the way.

Marius is a sight, all lean muscle and light bones. Freddie sees less of Peter now, less than their encounter over Halloween, feels nearly more acquainted with the body before him than the one he'd spent a bit more time with months ago. Though not nearly acquainted enough. Tonight, he supposes, they'll change that.

He rests back on his haunches when he reaches the swell of Marius's arse, smoothing his hands down the fleshy skin to draw the cheeks apart, gaze flicking upward to note Marius's reaction before he bends down low, pressing a kiss just above the crease. "You done this much?" he asks because he does have the feeling Marius has been in this position before. Perhaps just not recently.

"Good." Marius eyes' flutter at the kiss to behind his ear, surprisingly gentle in a way that catches him by surprise. Freddie keeps catching him by surprise, in ways he, in his current state of desperately ignoring his heart's wishes, tries not to comprehend. But he keeps catching glimpses of Freddie beneath his swagger, and even he can't help but admit to himself that he would like to see more.

He leans into Freddie's mouth as he drags it across his skin, gasping at the sensation. He reaches a hand back to grasp at what he can reach of Freddie's face, wanting and needing to touch him in turn. He groans at the bite to his shoulder, shifting on the bed as he clutches at Freddie's warm skin. He leans in again to Freddie's mouth, savoring the way it constantly inspires heat to spool in the center of his stomach.

Marius' hand falls away as Freddie kisses his way down Marius' back; he keeps shifting and squirming on the bed, letting out gasps and little noises of pleasure as Freddie licks his way across his skin, taking care to place attention on every ridge and freckle.

This is unhurried and luxurious, in comparison with their heated rush that Halloween night. Marius finds himself savoring the slowness, the way this feels different and as an extension of what intimacy they'd previously explored.

Freddie brings his warm hands down his back, adding to the shivers running through him. Marius leans into that touch, helping to spread his cheeks apart by spreading his thighs more. Freddie kisses him again, lower this time, and Marius lets out a whisper of a tiny curse, feeling his cock twitch.

He turns to glance at Freddie again, breath catching in his throat at the sight. "Yes," he answers, nodding. He thinks of the last time he was intimate, a flicker of a smile tinged with sadness flashing across his face. It disappears nearly as quickly as it appears. "But it has been awhile. About six months, I think."

There's a bit of relief in that, but not surprise. As readily as Marius has been to roll over and lift his hips, as eager with the mere promise of this, Freddie could have guessed he's experienced it before. And it requires no gentle coaxing to talk him into it, no promising that it'll feel good if he just relaxes and closes his eyes. Marius already knows.

But there's still a quiet implication in Marius's words Freddie does find surprising and he arches an eyebrow before lowering to press another kiss to that same patch of skin, open-mouthed this time, sucking before he flicks a tongue out to lap at the start of his crease.

"Six months since this or six months since sex of any sort?" And by sex, of course, he means penetration. Some, like Henry, would argue that their meeting at Magnus's party could constitute as sex and Freddie supposes he might agree with them, but this is something more, certainly.

He awaits Marius's reply as he ducks further, spreading his cheeks with the press of two thumbs and kissing a slow line downward until he finds the tight pucker of his hole. He still then, pulling back to brush the pad of his thumb over the sensitive skin instead, teasing faintly as he looks up the stretch of Marius's pale back, still arched for him. "That why you want this so badly?" he asks, voice thoughtful. "Just desperate to be fucked, are you?"

Marius struggles trying to reply to Freddie while Freddie is touching and kissing him like that. He doesn't miss the arch of his eyebrow, but at the sensation of that first open-mouthed kiss, he can no longer concentrate enough to keep his head at that angle. Shivers run through him at the feeling of Freddie's tongue, and he lets out a long, ragged breath tinged with a moan as his hands clutch in the sheets before him. He shifts his hips against the fabric of the bed, both craving and hissing at the friction.

"Six months since this," he manages to gasp out in between breaths, fingers curling in the sheets. "Since, you know, you and Halloween."

He lets out another moan as Freddie teases him with his thumb, several soft curses in both French and English falling from his mouth. He presses his hips back towards Freddie's touch, seeking more of it.

There are so many possible answers to that question; Marius could list them all, if he weren't currently occupied with the way heat surges through him at each touch and kiss Freddie places on and within his body. He's desperate to rid himself of the loneliness that has plagued him for the past half-year; he wants to get out of his own head and forget. He wants to lose himself in the sensation of bodies tangling together in the name of wanton pleasure.

But Marius is also not the sort of person to simply erase the presence of who it is he's with at such moments of pleasure. The thoughtfulness he catches in Freddie's question is just one of the many aspects of the other man that has him fascinated and charmed, in more ways than he could have ever expected.

"A little bit, yes," Marius manages, with intense effort, to answer honestly in between gasps of air and increasingly desperate moaning. He lifts his head and turns it to catch Freddie's eye again. "But I also really enjoy the company." He shifts his lower body back toward Freddie's thumb again, back arching even sharper than before. "I really, really want you."

The fact that, for a moment, Marius can hardly answer, is evidence enough that Freddie is doing something right. He grins quietly to himself as he drags his thumb down the crease to nudge lightly at the tight pucker of his hole. He circles there for a bit, listening both to Marius's voice as well as the movements of his body, reading what he can from every bare movement, every arch and roll of his hips for more.

He hasn't done this in awhile, hasn't had the opportunity. The fact that Marius is so eager is something of a surprise, but a delightful one and he hums softly to himself as he ducks further, licking a line upward this time from the heavy swell of Marius's balls to the tender skin just behind. A gentle lap.

"There's no need for flattery," he says then, his voice low with amusement. "I've already paid for the room."

And he's joking, of course, but there's some bit of sincerity behind it, too. Because it's not Freddie's company most people are after. Sure, he's dated before, dated for weeks and, very very occasionally, months at a time, but there's a reason nothing ever lasts. And he can already tell that Marius with his notebooks and his accent and his education... he'll move on soon enough, find some boy with actual aspirations to be with. Or some girl, obviously.

But for now, Marius is here and Freddie is determined to enjoy every moment. He presses his thumb to tender skin again and leans in, following it with the dart of his tongue, swirling around the ring with a hum.

Marius sinks into each touch, each twist and drag of Freddie's fingers against his skin. His own fingers curl and clutch at the sheets on the bed, moving in time with his ragged breathing, growing even more haphazard, and littered with noises of pleasure, the more Freddie explores him.

It has been so long since anyone has touched him like this; he's almost forgotten the sheer pleasure of the build up with this kind of intimacy, the way even the smallest of touches can light up his entire body with want. When Freddie leans further in, using his tongue like an instrument of art, Marius' hips jerk forward; he moans, letting out several curses in a variety of languages, some of which only exist at this moment.

He lets out a huff of laughter at that, eyes fluttering open and closed as he struggles to hold onto coherency long enough for a distinguishable reply. He does mean it, of course; he enjoys Freddie's company so far, even if they haven't done much talking. But he enjoys the wit; the banter they share between them. "Can't help it," he breathes out, letting out another huff of laughter. "Flattery just sort of, oh, spills out of me, among other things." He quirks his lips in a wry grin.

Marius isn't thinking much beyond this moment; currently, he's letting himself drift between currents, not holding on to anything as he floats. It's easier this way, he tells himself; tells his heart. No getting attached; no getting left behind.

For now, he's here with Freddie, and he intends to savor this respite he's found from his loneliness. He groans, loud and obscene, as Freddie swirls his tongue inside of him. "Fuck." His hands clench in the sheets, as he presses against Freddie's tongue, eager for more.

"Mmm, yes, I've already seen just how well you spill," Freddie agrees with a low, smug sort of laugh.

More than that, he's seen how Marius moves in pleasure. Their time spent at the party had only been a glimpse, he thinks, just a hint of what Marius is truly capable given the limited time and space they'd had in the moment. While then, half the thrill had been in being seen and heard, in the wandering eyes that may have caught sight of them, here there's a freedom in privacy.

Here, Freddie can truly indulge.

And indulge he does, spreading Marius wide as he lets out a low, hungry groan, licking into the heat of Marius's body. He takes his time, his tongue curling around the rim to tug lightly before he licks further down yet again and right back up. He slides his hands over Marius's thighs at the same time before gripping his fingers around the flare of Marius's hipbones, pulling him back onto his tongue, urging him to move in the way he wants.

He eases back a moment later, replacing his tongue with a single finger, skin slick enough with spit for Freddie to ease it past the first ring of muscle.

"Ever come just from this before?" he asks, his voice more curious than seductive as the clench of Marius's body tightens around that single finger. "Without a hand on your cock?"

Marius thinks it is impossible for him to be even more aroused than he already is, and Freddie keeps proving him wrong. That smug laughter sends shivers running right through him, even as he tosses his head back with his own laughter, breathless and ragged. "Yes, I am rather a messy person," he manages.

At the party, Marius caught a glimpse of Freddie's sexual artistry, frantic and hidden only by a dimly-lit alcove. They'd been more rushed then, inspired by the heat of the night and the party; the desperate wanting that flared to life between them.

In the hotel room, there is still a desperate wanting, but now they are their own spectacle, unlimited by the restraints of a public space. That fact makes Marius bolder, much more reckless in his expressions of pleasure.

Marius leans forward and presses back at the same time, entire body arching as Freddie spreads him open, moans into his body. His thighs keep spreading further apart. He feels the delicious sound as it runs through him; he gasps and he shudders as Freddie runs his hands on his thighs, pulling him back on his tongue. Marius obliges the encouragement, hips undulating with a haphazard urgency as gasped curses and moans fall from his mouth. He digs his hands into the sheets and pulls desperately, wishing said sheets were Freddie's hair instead.

The movement of his hips doesn't slow when Freddie inserts a finger a moment later; indeed, it only increases in depth and desperation.

His chest tightens as he reigns in his breath at Freddie's question. "N-no," he manages, as the idea of it sinks in and makes him shudder. He already feels undone, just from these past moments alone. "I've always had a hand."

Marius's response is unsurprising; Freddie himself can say he's only managed that feat a handful of times and only with some other aid in his system. He has a realistic enough understanding of his own abilities to know he's not likely to get Marius off that way tonight, but he does like the idea all the same.

It doesn't hurt that Marius keeps fucking back against him, back arched and legs spread, nearly wanton in his movements as Freddie slides his finger in deeper. He's careful to go slow, to wet the way with his tongue and not push harder than Marius's body will allow. Doing this without lube is always a bit trickier, but Freddie's something of an expert after all his experience; he knows how to make it feel good.

Twisting his wrist, he pushes in further as he gives Marius's left cheek a light bite, grinning against the smooth flesh before biting his own lip in concentration.

"How 'bout a mouth?" he asks, voice laced with promise as he crooks his finger just inside, his other hand still curled over Marius's hip. "Not certain I'm quite so good as to get you off untouched, but I'd love to swallow you. How's that?"

Freddie seems adept at balancing pleasure and care, making sure not to press forward too much, to avoid hurting him. Marius appreciates it greatly, moving against and with that touch and the press of his tongue, delighting in the sensations of both. The idea of coming without being touched flashes through his thoughts; he sucks in a quiet breath, shuddering at the idea.

Marius hisses as Freddie twists his wrist and nibbles on one side of his ass, little groans escaping between the press of his lips. Sweat gathers all over his body; he aches with wanting.

He lets out a stuttering moan, neck arching, at the quirk of Freddie's finger inside him and the promise latent in his tone of voice. His hips jerk as he leans back, seeking more of that touch. "You're plenty good," he manages, voice raw and breathless. He presses back urgently against Freddie's finger, as if to emphasize the point. "Believe me."

"But yes, please," he says, and his voice cracks this time. He feels so tightly wound, so aroused; he feels intoxicated, by Freddie, by all of his touches, by his tongue. He turns his neck to watch Freddie over his shoulder, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Freddie knows he's good, of course. He's been practicing this for years, after all. And he's had a number of teachers himself, learns a little bit from nearly every single person he's with. Some more than others. But every last person is different, everyone has their likes and dislikes, their turn-ons and turn-offs. Freddie's favourite part is discovering each one for himself and right now, tonight, he has all the time in the world to do just that.

Marius isn't quite shaking, but it seems to be a near thing as he turns his head to look back over his shoulder at Freddie. His cheeks are a lovely shade of red, the colour seeping down over his neck and what little of his chest Freddie can see.

"Good answer," he remarks as Marius struggles to catch his breath, his smile quick and sharp.

He rests back then, one hand hooking under Marius's middle to flip him onto his back before he arranges Marius's legs to stay spread and bent at the knee. Leaning forward, Freddie takes Marius between his lips, suckling at the tip as he slides one hand down, fingers grazing over the swell of Marius's balls and then back behind, finding his spit-slick hole with one fingertip and gently easing in once more.

Marius, though definitely experienced now, finds that there still is so much to explore and learn when it comes to intimacy. Once, he thought sex exclusively for love; for marriage to one's soulmate. Since his time in Darrow, his opinions and beliefs have obviously changed, particularly in the wake of losing two people he's grown attached to and loved. Though he hasn't had many partners, Marius has had sex many times, and each time he finds some new detail, some new sensation, to savor.

He finds that Freddie, with his all his confidence, does as much to arouse him as his touches and kisses; he knows what he's doing, and he does it well. It is utterly breathtaking, when he thinks about it.

But of course, Marius hardly thinks about now, as he can hardly think. He does manage a teasing smile, though. "Lawyer, remember?" He asks, catching his breath at last only to have it stolen from him once again. Freddie flips him over on the mattress, and he lets out a gasp at the surety and the suddenness of the movement. He squirms and shifts as Freddie arranges his legs into place.

His hips jolt and his back arches as soon as Freddie's mouth closes over him; he lets out an obscene noise that is almost a shout, which gradually fades into a desperate moan. "Oh," he groans, keeping his knees bent and raised, spreading them a bit, as Freddie slides in a finger once again. His whole body quivers as he reaches down to tangle his fingers in Freddie's hair, tugging gently as he undulates into Freddie's mouth and finger. He feels positively wanton as French curses slip out of his lips, rising and falling in time with his ragged breaths.

Freddie's fucked more than a few law students in his time, and one or two full-on lawyers as well, come to think of it. In his experience, that has little to do with either their ability to answer questions or their sexual prowess but Freddie's delighted so far to find that Marius is an eager participant. He moves easily under Freddie's guidance, sinking back into the mattress and then jerking deliciously when Freddie sinks down onto him. The sound he makes is even more lovely, a ragged, wet thing as his feet slip across the bedding, looking for purchase.

The rock of Marius's hips make it easier for Freddie to slip his finger in further though Freddie's still careful to not go too far. However relaxed Marius might be, however much he clearly wants this, he's still tight and Freddie knows all too well how quickly that can sharpen the pain.

So, for now, he focuses more on the thick of Marius's cock, on sucking more of him inside, tongue circling the sensitive flesh peeking out from his foreskin, the taste of pre-come a hot tang on his tongue. He licks at the slit, humming when he feels another bead slip free before hollowing his cheeks as he sinks down again, careful with his teeth.

Marius's fingers curl into Freddie's hair, a tight grip that goes straight to Freddie's balls. He shifts a little where he is, trying to relieve some of the pressure between his own thighs as Marius curses in French above him. It makes Freddie's lips curl into a grin, makes his bottom teeth lightly scrape the underside of Marius's shaft.

Marius' chest keeps heaving and his feet keep slipping as he shifts his legs, trying to both find purchase and to avoid kicking Freddie in the face. His fingers clutch in the tangles of Freddie's hair, almost moving in time with the haphazard movements of his hips, the softness of it providing a cool, wonderful contrast to the sheer heat of the rest of Freddie pressed on and within him.

There's a care in the way Freddie moves his finger inside of him that Marius appreciates, when it catches his attention in between the riot of other sensations running through him. He doesn't press too hard or too far, yet he still manages to slide his finger in such a way that makes Marius shiver and ache as he presses down against both Freddie's finger and his mouth.

The more of his cock Freddie takes into his mouth, the louder and more desperate Marius' curses become, mixed in with strained gasps and other refrains of near-shouting. His arched back squirms against the sheets at the clever way Freddie uses his tongue and he jerks again as Freddie hums around him, the sound rushing straight to his curled toes.

He's just managed enough coherence to meet Freddie's gaze when Freddie smiles around him, lets his teeth glance against Marius' cock. "Fuck!" He slips out, in English this time, shuddering as his head falls back against the pillows, neck arching with the rest of his body as stars start to filter in at the edge of his vision. He's just at the precipice, about to fall over the edge.

"Freddie," he groans, nearly whines, as he struggles for breath enough to warn the other man. "Freddie, close."

The curse comes in English this time and Freddie's isn't certain if that's a better sign or worse than the French. Either way, it sounds delicious, the ache in Marius's tone utterly apparent. He'll take it to mean that Marius likes a tiny bit of pain with his pleasure and files it away for later use, focusing right now on hollowing his cheeks as he sinks down low, relaxing his throat as well as he can to take Marius as deep as possible. He's had quite a lot of practice with this in his time, but he's still no expert. Try as he might, he still has a rather annoying gag reflex and it's triggered just a bit when Marius rolls his hips again.

Freddie pulls off with a wet laugh, his hand quickly replacing his mouth as he jerks Marius hard and fast, passing his thumb over the sensitive tip as he drags at his foreskin.

He really does have quite a gorgeous cock, a lovely length and heft and it's so very red right now, aching for release. He can feel the muscles in Marius's thighs drawing tight, can see the clench of his abdomen as everything starts to crest. That'd be evidence enough even apart from Marius's feverish promise and he leans down again, wrapping his lips around the head, tongue briefly at the slit where Marius is still spilling pre-come for the moment before he sinks down a few inches. There's no need to go further, not with Marius as close as he is, but he hums softly, his hand moving where his mouth doesn't reach, pumping him in encouragement, already eager to feel Marius release inside him.

Marius' cursing grows louder, and more constant, as Freddie takes more of his cock inside of his mouth. He curses blur together, an agglomeration of French and English, to the point where he doesn't even know what language he's speaking any longer. Well, moaning, any longer, really.

He shifts his legs and his hips with increasing urgency, now so close to the edge that any bit of friction against his sweaty skin feels like a slice of paradise. Freddie's laughter sparks right through his entire body, and as soon as his hand wraps around him, begins to jerk him, Marius moans, breath coming in stuttering waves. He keeps one hand tangled in Freddie's hair while the other falls to the sheets, slipping against the fabric as he tries to find purchase.

His hips roll at such a speed that they might as well be rolling of their own accord when Freddie places his mouth back down on his cock. His whole self shakes as gasps fall from between his lips, rising in crescendo as Marius feels the stars burst behind the edge of his vision and pleasure entirely overwhelms him.

"Freddie," he tries to warn him, back and neck both bowing sharply. "Oh!" One hand digs into Freddie's hair; the other, into the sheets. He pants and groans, his whole chest moving as wildly as the rest of him.

He lets out an elongated moan, a blend of more curses and Freddie's name, as his hips jerk and he spills into Freddie's lovely, amazing mouth.

The roll of Marius's hips turns wild in moments, hands buried in Freddie's hair, tugging and pulling as Freddie squares his shoulder and groans around the length of Marius's cock. He's always loved this part, this moment right before a man comes, when he loses all inhibition and turns downright primal. There's nothing like it in the world. Apart from getting fucked, maybe.

Marius is murmuring all sort of things, words in English and French and everything in between. He may be speaking in tongues for all the sense some of it makes and Freddie can't help but feel that deep in his chest, a warmth spreading outward and all through him, a warmth that makes his cock ache between his legs.

And Marius does warn him ahead of time, both in his movements and his words, tugging sharply at Freddie's hair as his legs begin to shake, whining Freddie's name.

With a grunt. Freddie sinks down deeper, as far as he can go without triggering his gag reflex, and then Marius is spilling, thick and hot and glorious. Pulling back a little, Freddie swallows and coughs just a bit before his grin turns sharp and he curls a hand tight around Marius, jerking him through it, ducking low to collect another rope of come across his tongue, eyes turned upward to watch the shape of Marius's mouth and the expression on his face, to watch as he surrenders completely to his orgasm.

Marius is always amazed by the sheer intensity of how much he feels at the moment of release. He's read myriad amounts of poetry and prose describing the "ecstasy of love." All of those words are never enough to fully capture the experience of coming undone by someone else's touch.

And, God, is Freddie teaching him new meanings of the word 'ecstasy.'

He finds himself dizzy, lightheaded, and unable to keep from murmuring in all those languages as Freddie groans around him; as he grunts and sinks down even further on his cock, taking more of Marius in than he expects. He gasps, pulling desperately at Freddie's hair as his own head jerks against the pillow, almost in time with the movements of Freddie's hand, jerking him through his pleasure, which washes over him in so many waves.

Marius just manages to catch a glimpse of the way Freddie watches him before his eyes flutter and his head hits the pillow again.

Even as he comes down, Marius can't keep his body from squirming. From aching in the wake of his orgasm.

"Oh," he manages, voice raw and cracked and entirely debauched. He heaves from his chest all the way down to his thighs, while the world spins around him. "Fuck."

It's been too long for Freddie to remember exactly how Peter had tasted and it hardly seems to matter besides. Marius has flooded his mouth, hot and thick, shaking under the force of it and it's all Freddie can do to swallow as he catches his breath. He looks completely undone, legs spread wide and skin flushed a lovely shade of pink from neck to navel and Freddie licks his lips as he slides his hand up Marius's cock one last time, squeezing the last out of him.

Sitting back on his haunches, Freddie brings his fingers to his lips, tasting still more of Marius as he wraps his other hand around himself, indulges in a slow stroke from base to tip as he grins.

"Good then?" he asks, though he well knows the answer. It'd sure as hell been good for him, at least, and he'd like to think that's fairly obvious to Marius given how hard he is. Still, he keeps his strokes loose and slow, relishing the touch just as it is instead of pushing on to any sort of finish. He drops his other hands, fingers sticky with spit and come, to Marius's thigh, grazing up the skin.

With a cock of his head, he asks, "Gonna let me fuck you now then?"

Trouble is, of course, he's only got a couple condoms on him and no lube to speak of. There might be some lotion in the toilet, but Freddie's not checked yet and, if he's honest, he's not too keen on moving just yet. Not when Marius makes such a pretty sight.

Marius keeps on inhaling desperately, all but gulping down air as the high of his release lingers like a fog around and through him. He can feel that his hair's a mess and the flush throughout his body as Freddie swallows the last of his come, looking utterly decadent as he does so. Marius shudders, fingers catching in the sheet as he tries to ground himself.

Freddie moves languidly to sit up and back on his legs, licking his lips and stroking himself all at once. That grin sends aftershocks right through Marius; he cannot contain the whimpering noise that falls from his lips at the sight, hips shifting again against the bed. He leans up to kiss Freddie, deeply, wanting, groaning at the taste of himself as he answers Freddie's question without words.

But Marius does answer him with words, too, wanting to let him know just how good it was for him, as he savors Freddie's hand, warm and solid, against his thigh. "Amazing," he confirms, voice breathless and cracking as he tries to compose himself. He can see, by Freddie's own hardness, how much he enjoyed it, and he flushes deeper at the sight, feeling proud and glad to be the source of that arousal. He lets out a huff of laughter, his pleasure obvious in the glint in his eyes and the crinkle of his nose and smile.

"Yes," he more whispers than anything else, making to reach up to Freddie to pull him flush against him.

He doesn't realize how close he is to one of the end tables by the bed until he accidentally catches the knob of it with his elbow in the process of grabbing Freddie. He lets out a startled curse, more out of surprise than actual pain.

But he grazed the knob to accidentally open the drawer, and much to his surprise, among the obligatory Bible that always seems to come in hotel rooms (for what purpose he still doesn't understand, given that he doesn't believe anyone uses hotel rooms for praying), he finds a small bottle, labeled "Holiday Spirit" with "Under the Mistletoe" listed as the flavor.

Marius' eyes widen for a moment, once he realizes what it is. And then he throws back his head and laughs, holding up the bottle for Freddie to see. "I think Santa is real after all," he says, entirely amused and grateful for such a stroke of luck.

By means of answer, Freddie assumes, Marius pushes himself up to capture Freddie's mouth in a wet, demanding sort of kiss. With a groan, Freddie sinks into it immediately, gripping his own cock tighter as their tongues meet, as Marius tastes himself in the heat of Freddie's mouth and drinks him clean. They're still breathing a bit roughly when Marius pulls back to answer with words this time, reaching one arm forward.

The moment is interrupted briefly when Marius smacks his elbow against the edge of the night table. Freddie laughs, a sharp sound of surprise that dies away when he notices the little bottle inside the drawer that's been knocked open. Marius spots it at the same time, reaching in to show Freddie the label. There are some things about this place, good and bad, that Freddie will never understand, but the sheer convenience of some things, the regularity of happenstance, is near the top of the list.

Marius's wide smile and bright laugh are more than enough for Freddie to not question a thing right now and he own face breaks into a smile as he takes the little bottle from Marius's hand.

"Think it smells like cinnamon?" he asks, popping open the lid and taking a sniff. Turns out to smell a bit like cloves, actually, sweet with just a bit of chemical tang and he shrugs, still grinning as he squeezes a sizable dollop onto his fingers.

"Any condoms in there as well?" he asks, dropping those fingers between Marius's thighs before he can so much as look, searching for and finding the slick rim of his hole and pressing just slightly. He's tight post-orgasm and Freddie knows better than to shove in just yet. Instead, he massages, lips still curled in a grin.

That inconspicuous little bottle, laying so innocently against the leather of the token Bible, is one of Darrow's kinder tricks, Marius thinks, as he watches Freddie's reaction to said bottle. The smile that breaks across his face in response makes Marius' own smile brighten, unfurl wider with another giggle let out in a huff of air.

"Does it?" He asks, head tilted to the side on the pillow for a better vantage point of Freddie examining the lube. His breath catches and a tremor runs through him when Freddie pours a bit of the lube on his fingers. Marius' legs shift in anticipation, messing up the neatness of the sheets even further.

"Let me lo - oh!" Marius has his hand halfway to the drawer again when Freddie presses in with his slick fingers, sending another jolt through his skin. His hand curls into itself on the bed as he lifts his other hand to grasp at Freddie's face. His body curves into an arch as his eyes glaze over, unable to focus on anything but Freddie and that magnificent smile hanging on such lovely lips. Heat coils in his belly, serpentine, and he pulls Freddie to him for another wanting, greedy kiss, hips beginning to move against his fingers.

Freddie doesn't let Marius take a sniff just yet; his fingers are otherwise occupied, after all. Instead, he tosses the bottle aside for the moment, not far enough it can't be easily reached, but not close enough to get in the way either. Marius has stretched backward once more, again reaching back behind him for the drawer though he's quickly distracted by the press of Freddie's finger. Grinning at the reaction he gets, Freddie slips his finger out to only circle Marius's sensitive rim, dipping shallowly once again, teasing little by little.

He's still aching between his thighs, but watching Marius writhe beneath him is a marvel all its own. He arches gently, all pale, freckled skin and lean muscle, lips slack on a quiet moan as he rolls his hips upward, silently begging for more.

And Freddie's more than willing to provide, but not without having some fun first. He slips his finger in once again, deeper this time, twisting his wrist as Marius begins to loosen up little by little. He watches carefully, taking every cue until he can slide his finger in as far as it'll go, crooking the top knuckle, searching.

"Find any then?" he asks then, conversationally, as he nods at the drawer again. Then pulls his finger back to slide in a second along side it.

Marius sees the bottle fall and land on the other side of the bed out of of the corner of his eyes; the lube may as well vanish into thin air in the next instant for all he cares, caught up as he is with all of Freddie's teasing and that grin, making his body ebb like the tide across the bed, seeking more of that touch currently so delicate and light. In the wake of his orgasm, Marius feels even the smallest touch most keenly; his breath hitches and his thighs tremble with each circling motion of Freddie's fingers.

Freddie's gaze on him inspires more fluidity to his motions; more urgency. Marius' hand glances against the heat of Freddie's skin and he knows Freddie must be aching himself. His touch strengthens as he drags his hand down Freddie's body, down his chest, as his own hips roll and he moans.

And then that finger is, suddenly, inside him once again, moving deeper and at different angles. Marius moans louder, more insistent, with his body arching more sharply at the friction. All of him is flush with wanting and sensation, sprawling through him like sea foam across waves at Freddie's touch. He feels as though he hasn't yet come down from his previous bout of pleasure; his hand curls against the heat of Freddie's chest.

"Dieu, Freddie!" He exclaims as that searching knuckle brushes against a deep, soft spot in him that sends stars shooting through his veins. Marius' whole body shudders, neck arching against the pillows as he writhes into Freddie's touch, frantically craving more of it. Again, French curses fall from his mouth, in between more fervent, voluptuous cries. His chest quakes as he can't seem to catch his breath.

And Freddie is so composed, asking him again about the drawer beside them. The sort of composure that encourages Marius' lips pressing together, teeth occasionally scraping the surface of his lower lip, as he tries to form a coherent answer.

"Still looking," he manages on a huff of breath, hand shakily reaching in the direction of the drawer. His hand again pauses when Freddie slides a second finger into him, digging into the bed briefly before Marius brings it to grasp at the bare skin of Freddie's chest along with his other hand. He moves them both to grasp desperately at Freddie's back, tugging him closer as his hips move faster.

"Keeping getting distracted," he tries to tease but the crack in his voice rather gives him away.

Freddie finds that spot inside rather easily, grinning wide at Marius's delightful reaction. He's so responsive is the thing, writhing and moaning with every touch, and all of it going straight to Freddie's cock. Marius still hasn't managed to find the condoms, but Freddie supposes he can't be blamed given that Freddie is being rather distracting. And delighting in that task, of course.

"S'pose you should work on focusing then," he remarks with a teasing grin, slowly pumping two fingers within the heat of Marius's body. It's a tight fit and he goes slow until Marius gradually begins to loosen. He slides his other hand up the soft skin of Marius's inner thigh.

It might be a bit much to make Marius come like this so soon after making him come with his mouth so Freddie slows his hand soon enough, slipping his fingers free before giving him a playful slap to the hip as he shifts his weight and reaches for the drawer himself.

Whatever Santa had provided the holiday lube, has also provided holiday condoms, it seems, as Freddie pulls out a string of red and green foil packets. They're all the same size which seems a bit limiting, but they appear they'll fit and Freddie tugs off one, dropping the packet onto Marius's chest with a wide grin as he deposits the rest back into the drawer. "Do the honors," he says, his knees pressed right up against Marius's sides as he slides a hand over his cock, keeping himself hard. Keeping himself ready.

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