rackofbadcds | like lovers new to bodies first to touch you here

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engineer

like lovers new to bodies first to touch you here

Another Friday night, another day off coming up. Engineer was tired, but not so much that he wouldn't get in a few celebratory beers for a job well done. Not too much, though. He had avoided drinking more than the occasional beer since the whole "incident" with Spy a few weeks ago, much less thinking about it.

Until recently, though, when he caught himself imagining it again. The idea of "making it up" to him. Awkard as it was, it was the only real memory he had of his past times with the man that weren't blackout drunk. Maybe he was just feeling especially licentious, maybe it was the fact he knew he found Spy attractive at times, but it was hard not to find himself drifting to everything that was right about that morning and...

God dammit, nevermind. He was horny.

Point being, he didn't want to be too tired, sore, or inebriated by the time they got a chance alone. The poker game in their unofficial "lounge" room had finally died down for the night, and everyone had left except for Engineer and Spy. The other merc was quiet for a while, idly adjusting at his guitar. With other things on his mind now, though, he couldn't care less whether the damn thing was tuned.

"So. Good game."

Look, give him a sec. He doesn't normally initiate stuff like this out of the blue.

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Please don't bury him in a ditch after this.

He has to take another deep breath, slow breath at the touches and the sounds that come out of Engie's mouth. It's so tempting to just go. He's so close now that he knows he won't last much longer. But this has been a long time coming and he'll be damned if he doesn't make the most of it.

Spy finally starts to move, leaning forward to stabilize himself by putting his hands on the bed above Engie's shoulders before shifting his hips down to slowly take more of Engie's cock into him, unable to stifle a quiet, pleased 'mm'. Just like riding a bike.

The hands are a very odd tactile sensation, but comforting nonetheless when paired with that gentle encouragement. He can't hide a smile at that. Usually, these positions are reversed, but he's not going to complain.

Then what the hell's he going to do with this shovel.

Just like riding a bike, if the bike was alive and wow that's some really weird imagery but point being, Dell is panting. It's quiet and punctuating with rumbling moans and the occasional curse. It doesn't help with Spy leaned over him the way he was, riding him slowly and lord it was enough but it wasn't. Like he's complaining.

That said, a few minutes in, his hands slide back down and settle on Spy's waist. Then he brings his hips up. Not quite thrusting - not yet - but moving along with him. It gets him louder now, and he chuckles breathlessly in between.

"Yep... yep. Definitely better remembering."

Harking back to that morning, when they were making out and putting hands down pants and nobody was screaming in pain.

meanwhile someone in the vents is playing Rob Stewart

and screaming

If Soldier was still alive, it could be his next Smissmas present. But he's clearly dead. Certainly not hiding in the vents playing baby-making jams.

Spy ignores that, focusing instead on taking Engie deeper and deeper. His breaths come shakier, and he allows himself to start moving a little faster just as Engie starts moving with him.

It pulls a groan from his throat, and his thighs tremble slightly around Engie's hips. "Much better," he agrees, turning his smile down at Engie.

Okay, enough with the warmups and teasing. He slides his hands down to rest on Engie's shoulders and carefully picks up the pace again, setting an easy rhythm.

Coincidentally, Tom Jones covered Do You Think I'm Sexy. So, thanks for that and also being dead, Soldier.

No baby-making required, though. Engie doesn't feel like having Spy's second kid.

The merc offers a crooked smile back, especially as Spy puts his hands on him. He brings a hand up on Spy's arm and leans up for a hungry, kinda sloppy kiss. It's not that hard to do - Spy was taller and leaner than him, but being on the bottom actually made it a little easier.

It's just as Spy picks up the pace, though, and Engineer moans into his mouth. He pulls away, wishing he could hold it longer but desperate for air. Finally, this was the pace he was craving. He bucks up into Spy now, matching the way Spy rolled or bounced or whatever the hell he was doing with his hips because dammit he can barely focus on anything but the way it feels and the way Spy groaned and breathed against him.

Hell, why did he ever drink the last few times? In retrospect, it probably took some alcohol for him to even consider sleeping with Spy, but at the same time?? Damn?????

It all comes back to Tom Jones. Charismatic bastard.

Oh yeah, no. Any baby-making here is metaphorical. He's already a shitty father to one kid, he doesn't need another one to let down.

Secretly (ok, not really), Spy had been contemplating doing the exact same thing. But Engie beats him to the punch, and he meets the kiss with no small amount of desperation. There's no room to pretend like he's better than that at this point.

Especially when - oh, they're going now, okay. Spy shudders, pressing his forehead to Engie's and mumbling quiet praise, just low enough to barely make out as he keeps moving, slowly but persistently.

To be fair, Spy's hard to approach normally. But without alcohol, there seems to be significantly less biting and physical harm involved, which is just fine by him.

Spy's also a sneaky-assed, arrogant fuck, and it took a while for Engineer to even consider him a friend, much less somebody he wanted to bang. They're both pretty much past pretending they're not interested, though. Not when Engineer made the first move.

Especially not when he's driving himself into him over and over, thrusts slow but deep, panting rough and switching between whispered curses or murmur's of other man's name.

Well, class designation. Whatever.

Speaking of whispers, Engineer only barely catches the quiet praise Spy murmurs. Not all of it, though.

"What's that, now?"

Honestly, it doesn't matter that much, but Engie flashes a teasing grip as his hips snap up harder. He wants to hear it.

This is all true, and yet, in his humble opinion, he's still the most bangable person in this damn fort.

Evidence: he's banging right now. Although he can't really brag about it, he's too busy trying not to just let go and let Engie do the rest of the work. Hell, he kind of already is, with how eagerly he's taken charge. But if Spy hates anything when it comes to sex, it's dead fish syndrome.

He grinds his hips down particularly hard, determined to draw out more calls of his name - so to speak. But a particularly hard thrust makes him falter, almost collapsing against Engie as he struggles to maintain his composure.

Anything he was going to say leaves his mind after that, so all he manages is a sigh of "Dell."

Factually incorrect. That would be Demoman... if not for, you know, the alcoholism. Then again, Engie's never tried.

Believe it or not, Engineer was trying (and on-and-off failing) not to take over - too much. It was partly out of "making up" for before, trying to prove what you got when he wasn't hungover and hurting himself. Mostly, though? Spy's pretty much on the money. He's really goddamn eager.

As much as he wants to flip Spy over and screw both their brains out, though - he's just as eager to watch Spy ride him. Rutting onto him, skin hitting skin, dragging sounds out of both of them. It doesn't help when Spy grinds harder, and Engineer hears his real name.

Engineer manages to catch Spy's falter. His metal hand takes his shoulder while the other grips harder onto his arm. Anything he was going to tease Spy with gets thrown out the window. He keeps his gaze on him - partially stunned, partially processing just how hot his name sounds on Spy's breath.

Finally, he bows his head and groans again. His own pace settles, matching Spy again, steadily rocking his cock inside him.

"That's it... hah. That's it. I - mnh - I gotcha."

That's meant to be reassuring, but fuck if he's not frustrating himself with all this restraint. He'd be lying to himself if those fireworks weren't still wild in the pit of his stomach at each drag of his dick inside Spy. He held off long enough before they got on the bed, and easy touches alone sent him shuddering.

It's fine, though, Dell is a gentleman. Lovers come first - literally.

Shh. Spy's ego is still too fragile to accept that Demo's a better lay than him.

He does vaguely appreciate Engie's self-control. He can't quite think of a way to show this appreciation while he's getting railed, but it'll come to him later.

His breath hitches at the assurance and everything surrounding it, the little groans and touches. And it's at this point that he finally thinks 'Fuck it'.

He doesn't move much faster, but his movements do have much more purpose now, focusing on working Engie's cock deeper. He quietly slips one hand down to wrap around his own dick, lightly pulling at himself with a quiet groan.

Between his hand and Engie's cock, he doesn't last much longer. With a particularly harsh grind, he comes all over Engie's stomach with a shuddering gasp, thighs clenching around his hips. Sorry about the mess.

Occasionally, Engie's mind blanked out on pure pleasure, and it's not until their rhythm changes that he realizes what Spy's doing. Quickly taking the hint, he holds onto the merc and lets him ride it out, murmuring more small encouragements and his name yet again.

The result is... a lot, and all over him. Engie feels his dick twitch at the sight, even as he slows his own thrusts to a stop, watching his own come-covered stomach rise and fall. Clean-up's going to be a pain in the ass, but you know what? Worth it.

Engie waited until Spy finished and then, grinning, he pulls his shoulder down and met his lips again. He'd run his hand through his hair if not for the mask, but settles for rubbing the back of his neck. Once Spy came down, though - his grin went crooked.

"Sorry 'bout this."

He seizes Spy's hips and flips both of them over until he on top, leaned over Spy. He finally pulls away from the kiss, and Engie's smile goes lopsided as his hands slide up Spy's thighs, lifts his hips, and slams back into him.

This was what he wanted to do that morning. Hell if he wasn't going to get it right this time.

The kiss on Spy's end is a lot more cautious than before. Gentle. He doesn't let a lot of people see him get all gross and sweaty, but he can't be bothered to worry about that right now.

He does manage to say "I got impatient" with just a hint of apology, panting slightly as his heart rate starts to settle. Of course, then Engie opens his mouth again, and he doesn't even have time to ask what he's sorry for before they're moving again.

He flails a bit at the change in position, and what was supposed to be a simple "What are you doing?" turns into a cry of both surprise and pleasure that's loud enough for him to thank God that he doesn't share a wall with anyone. He's not at the point where it's starting to hurt yet, but he still grits his teeth as Engie starts to go to town on him.

He can't help but curse being impatient now. This would be a lot more enjoyable if he'd restrained himself.

Edited (didn't change anything, just wanted to point out this is comment 69) 2018-06-10 07:26 (UTC)

Engineer lets out a breathless laugh at the reaction he gets. Situating his own legs under Spy's and leaning forward, he realizes Spy's still taller than him - but you know what? Whatever. This is fine. He's on top now.

"Gettin' impatient."

In case Spy still wanted to know what he was doing.

Engie rolls up his sleeves. The remains of his clothes (re: one shirt) were crumpled to hell now. Then he starts pounding. He officially foregoes all restraint, slamming deep and fast, gripping a fistfuls of bedsheet on either side of Spy. His head bows, and each thrust is punctuated by grunts, groans, and gasps.

Don't worry. He's not aiming for overstimulation. He's just really, really close.

Spy instinctively wraps his legs around Engie's hips for a better hold and angle. He can't help but laugh at the explanation and their positioning; he's always been somewhat gangly, and it's never more obvious than when he's in bed with someone shorter than him.

No offense.

His thighs are starting to ache by now, but he stills rolls his hips against Engie, murmuring quiet encouragement. Anything to help him get there just a little faster. He'd like to be able to feel his legs later, after all.

Some offense, but it's fine! He's ignoring it! He can't be fucked to care anyway!!

Dell gasps as he feels himself almost there. Spy wasn't (meaning: was) helping, of course.

"Goddamned - beautiful. Gonna... fuck--"

Double nice, Spy. Engineer doesn't drop the f-word that much either. He leans forward, just next to Spy's ear, breathing hot and low.

"Where... where do you want me?"

He's still thrusting, tempting that might finish inside him anyway. It's the thought that counts, though(???)

Speaking of, with the angle they're at, he's kind of getting the remains of Spy's orgasm on him. Sorry, man. You made this mess anyway.

To be fair, Spy's a beanpole. Most of his partners are shorter than him.

Spy laughs quietly, squeezing his legs around Engie's waist to urge him forward. A compliment always sets his heart aflutter, but hearing Engie drop his composure enough to swear sends a special little shiver down his spine.

He doesn't even mind getting his own mess smeared over his stomach. That's a problem for after.

"Mm, just like this, mon ami," he purrs. Less mess to clean up later this way.

The purr has him grinning. Permission granted, he only thrusts for a few moments longer before his movements stutter. He bows his head and, with a gasp, freezes. He comes with a shudder of groans, a few stuttering thrusts here-and-there milks out as much of his orgasm as he can get.

He rides the intensity for as long until he can until he finally taps out. For a moment, he stays leaned over Spy, panting as the rest of his body slowly came down. Then with one last weak groan, he pulls out, turns, and flops next to Spy.

Give him a hot second to catch his breath.

Edited (A LOT OF TYPOS) 2018-06-15 04:46 (UTC)

Spy lets his head fall back as Engineer finally hits his limit, shuddering and digging his fingers into his back out of reflex. Not enough to leave marks this time, but enough that it might sting a little. Fortunately, he still has that much self-control.

If he'd been a little more patient, that would've sent him over the edge as well. But even so, his stomach flips in a similar manner, and he groans quietly, eyes squeezed shut.

Aside from a quiet hiss as Engie pulls out, he doesn't react much, taking that same second to come back to his senses.

"Well," he says eventually, resting his hand on his stomach - mindful of the mess, of course. "That went much better, wouldn't you say?"

"Whew. Saddle my back and call me a horse."

Engie throws his Gunslinger arm over his eyes. He's suddenly intensely aware of the cool metal over his forehead, and it helps bring him down a little more. In between breaths, he chuckles.

"Yeah... yeah. Still feel like I run a marathon both ways."

But obviously for better reasons this time.

The merc stays laying where he is for now. He ~~squints up at the vents~~ feels at his back where Spy dug into him only a few seconds ago, and smiles to himself.

"So... good? Great? Mind-blowin'?" Okay, he's joking. "I mean. Seein' as you were the one makin' me gallop."

THERE'S A LOT OF HORSE METAPHORS FOR RIDING DICK OK

As Engie recovers, Spy carefully sits up and reaches over to a drawer in the nightstand to pull out a few tissues and - of course - a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

First priority: lighting up. As soon as he's taken a slow drag, he's grabbing the tissues to clean himself off, handing another to Engie before leaning back.

He huffs a laugh. "If you keep making horse-riding metaphors, I'm going to push you off the bed."

The little smile on his face suggests he actually secretly loves it. He's not that cruel.

"It was definitely good."

Much appreciated. Engineer zones out a moment, not quite realizing until Spy holds a tissue up to his face. He hums his thanks and wipes himself up. Stomach isn't bad, but cleaning over his still-sensitive groin draws a small hiss out of him.

Whatever, he's got it. He's good. Now that he's cleaned up a little, he rolls on his side and props his head in his arm. Oh yeah. Engie sees that smile. He represses a snicker, but he still looks real damn proud of himself.

"Good."

All jokes aside, 'good' is what he wanted.

Speaking of good, this bed is really comfortable. Dang.

It's the best mattress $15,000 can buy. Because of course it is.

Engie should be proud. Generally, Spy doesn't stop to smoke afterward; he usually takes the first opportunity to call a cab. Of course, it's a lot harder to do that when your partner of choice lives a five-minute walk away.

He blows smoke away from Engie out of respect, settling back with a contented sigh.

"Strange to actually be sober for it this time. I could get used to it."

In Spy's defense, Engineer expected to get kicked out of bed by now. His feelings wouldn't be too hurt if he actually was. Regardless, he's definitely not protesting sticking around.

Plus, he's also kind of sinking into this bed now. Look, besides this just happening, it's been a really long day.

"No kiddin'."

Engie fiddles with his shirt collar. He'll definitely have to iron this thing later. Luckily, that's about the only clothing casualty. You'd think it'd be the lace.

"Tell you what. Next time, if we happen to drink, you pick. I think my choice popskull's a lil' too strong."

That way if they decide to drink and also bang, they're not so blackout drunk they can't remember.

"Like you said, though. Sober's just fine."

This is implying a 'next time' happens, but Engie wouldn't argue it.

Thankfully, the lace was left in a pile with his pants on the floor - at some point between the wall and the bed, he'd kicked them off - so the lace briefs will live to see another day.

Spy laughs, finally thinking to offer Engie a cigarette. It seems like the right thing to do.

"Agreed. I'm sure I can find something that won't kill us, regardless."

Thanks, buddy!! The merc takes the cigarette with a nod. He sticks it in the corner of his mouth then leans forward. Still got that lighter?

"I'll be honest - I don't even remember when we started doing this."

Part of him wants to, but - at the time, it was probably a sloppy proposal turned into a sloppier tryst.

"Speaking of somethin'... kinda curious. You ever use those Spy gadgets in bed?"

He does! He'll even lean over to light it up for you because he's that much of a gentleman.

"Hm. I suppose it's true that you become a different person when you're drunk."

Not that he's complaining. He leans back again, sighing out smoke. Depending on the alcohol, Spy can get exceptionally flirtatious, so that's probably an accurate assumption of how it went down.

Spy glances at Engineer for a moment, idly raising his eyebrow. His lip twitches a little in thought.

"...I used to tease someone that I frequently... saw about disguising myself as Humphrey Bogart during some of our trysts, but I never actually did."

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icon is correct

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god dammit i'm gonna ruin our 69th streak with this tag

it was a magical moment

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correct icon

yeehaw

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