Categories > Anime/Manga > Escaflowne
Uses For Furniture
Van demonstrates, with the help of Allen, to to properly *use* a desk. Smut. Yaoi. (Drabble length)
?Blocked
Uses For Furniture
There was something about getting fucked on someone's desk that turned Van on. The angle always hit him in the right spot. Never mind that he was going to have embarrassing red marks on his back from writing implements, or that financial reports would possibly stick against his skin afterwards, it was too mind-blowing to consider the consequences. He couldn't help himself, not really, not when Allen left himself wide open to roaming hands when he left his shirt unbuttoned like that. Van made a low undignified sound and bucked when Allen pressed in especially deep. He cursed breathlessly, half-laughing in delirium. Every vein in his body was aflame with agony and pleasure, keen and double-edged.
He groped for Allen's hips and grasped firmly, trying to guide him back to that one little spot inside him. Without warning, Van's hips lifted as far as Allen would allow and he half-mewled, half-groaned, glassy eyes slipping shut and mouth parting.
"Right there," his breathing hitched and hips twitched at Allen's wonderfully angled thrust. "Gods, yes..."
The older man hovered over Van, his ragged breathing an unadorned counterpoint to the steady rhythm of his rocking hips. He brought his mouth down to Van's in an open-mouthed kiss, warm and wet and pleasantly suffocating. Allen was going the exact pace that Van enjoyed best, not really fast, but not slow, just enough to feel the sensations before Allen abandoned his carefully measured control. They were the smooth and filling thrusts of an experienced lover. The blond pulled away with a little smirk, stilling Van's trembling thighs as he pressed in swiftly. Van gripped the edges of the desk to keep from bucking off and desperately bit his lower lip to keep screaming.
Allen, the bastard, never made anything easy for him.
-end
There was something about getting fucked on someone's desk that turned Van on. The angle always hit him in the right spot. Never mind that he was going to have embarrassing red marks on his back from writing implements, or that financial reports would possibly stick against his skin afterwards, it was too mind-blowing to consider the consequences. He couldn't help himself, not really, not when Allen left himself wide open to roaming hands when he left his shirt unbuttoned like that. Van made a low undignified sound and bucked when Allen pressed in especially deep. He cursed breathlessly, half-laughing in delirium. Every vein in his body was aflame with agony and pleasure, keen and double-edged.
He groped for Allen's hips and grasped firmly, trying to guide him back to that one little spot inside him. Without warning, Van's hips lifted as far as Allen would allow and he half-mewled, half-groaned, glassy eyes slipping shut and mouth parting.
"Right there," his breathing hitched and hips twitched at Allen's wonderfully angled thrust. "Gods, yes..."
The older man hovered over Van, his ragged breathing an unadorned counterpoint to the steady rhythm of his rocking hips. He brought his mouth down to Van's in an open-mouthed kiss, warm and wet and pleasantly suffocating. Allen was going the exact pace that Van enjoyed best, not really fast, but not slow, just enough to feel the sensations before Allen abandoned his carefully measured control. They were the smooth and filling thrusts of an experienced lover. The blond pulled away with a little smirk, stilling Van's trembling thighs as he pressed in swiftly. Van gripped the edges of the desk to keep from bucking off and desperately bit his lower lip to keep screaming.
Allen, the bastard, never made anything easy for him.
-end
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