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Completely gratuitous smut, because it's humpday.
***** ***** *****
He'd gone to bed with every intention of getting an early night, seeing as Walker was out and tomorrow was going to be so busy he was going to need every drop of energy he could get. Right now though, he really didn't care about any of that – even the shock of suddenly being leapt on while dozing – because he had a quite unexpected armful of energetic boyfriend, and he wasn't stupid. God that felt good, Walker's mouth on his, hot and sloppy and eager.
Freezing cold hands and icy water drops from Walker's hair were evil though and somehow trying to arch away from them without loosing the kisses wasn't quite working. The sensation of Walker plastered on top of him, laughing hard enough to shake both of them was worth the undignified noises and the whacking his elbow on the bedside table.
"Hey you" Luke breathed, giving in to the inevitable and wrapping his arms around his lover. "You're soaking."
"Hadn't noticed." Walker wriggled an arm free long enough to poke Luke's armpit before the giggles struck again. His guy was so gone, drunk and giggly and even with frozen hands Luke loved him all the more for it. "It's pissing down out there! Dancing in the rain."
Luke groaned. "You didn't?" Walker nodded exaggeratedly against Luke's chest, "God. You did didn't you? You are so pissed!"
"Bit." Walker confessed, and damn but Walker was cute when he was like this, pliant and happy and still buzzing between the vodka and the dance floor. Cute, and really damn sexy, rocking back a little against Luke's cock. "Kinda drunk. Kinda horny." Very much licking up Luke's neck, which was making it hard to concentrate already.
Luke smiled and didn’t even try to hide the way his breathing was speeding up. "Wet, drunk and horny – I think we can work with that."
He worked his hands up under Walker's wet t-shirt, finding cold clammy skin and chaffing at it to get the blood flowing again. Walker's waist always felt so tiny under his own broad hands, but there was nothing fragile about Walker squirming and biting, wriggling backwards out of the tight top and grinding down on Luke as he went. Fuck. He hissed and arched. There was no way Luke was even half this co-ordinated when he was pissed, but far be it for him to complain, especially when Walker slid even further down, pulling the duvet down with him.
His fingers slid over short wet hair and traced Walker's jaw, holding him still for a second. "Thought you were the horny one?" because he had to check. Because Walker's soft 'please?' was about the hottest thing in the world.
Luke's head hit the pillows, already gasping as Walker's tongue burned impossible heat, dragging up the underside of his cock. The icy fingers rubbing against his balls should have made him shiver rather than shift to give Walker more room to play, but once the heat wrapped round him turned to suction Luke really didn’t have the coherent words to think about why the contrast made him fly. Vague flashes of inspiration about how he would reciprocate and how Walker would taste on his tongue, feel in his hands, sound when he moaned – those stuck around a little longer, twisting round everything he was feeling, right up until he came.
***** ***** *****
He'd gone to bed with every intention of getting an early night, seeing as Walker was out and tomorrow was going to be so busy he was going to need every drop of energy he could get. Right now though, he really didn't care about any of that – even the shock of suddenly being leapt on while dozing – because he had a quite unexpected armful of energetic boyfriend, and he wasn't stupid. God that felt good, Walker's mouth on his, hot and sloppy and eager.
Freezing cold hands and icy water drops from Walker's hair were evil though and somehow trying to arch away from them without loosing the kisses wasn't quite working. The sensation of Walker plastered on top of him, laughing hard enough to shake both of them was worth the undignified noises and the whacking his elbow on the bedside table.
"Hey you" Luke breathed, giving in to the inevitable and wrapping his arms around his lover. "You're soaking."
"Hadn't noticed." Walker wriggled an arm free long enough to poke Luke's armpit before the giggles struck again. His guy was so gone, drunk and giggly and even with frozen hands Luke loved him all the more for it. "It's pissing down out there! Dancing in the rain."
Luke groaned. "You didn't?" Walker nodded exaggeratedly against Luke's chest, "God. You did didn't you? You are so pissed!"
"Bit." Walker confessed, and damn but Walker was cute when he was like this, pliant and happy and still buzzing between the vodka and the dance floor. Cute, and really damn sexy, rocking back a little against Luke's cock. "Kinda drunk. Kinda horny." Very much licking up Luke's neck, which was making it hard to concentrate already.
Luke smiled and didn’t even try to hide the way his breathing was speeding up. "Wet, drunk and horny – I think we can work with that."
He worked his hands up under Walker's wet t-shirt, finding cold clammy skin and chaffing at it to get the blood flowing again. Walker's waist always felt so tiny under his own broad hands, but there was nothing fragile about Walker squirming and biting, wriggling backwards out of the tight top and grinding down on Luke as he went. Fuck. He hissed and arched. There was no way Luke was even half this co-ordinated when he was pissed, but far be it for him to complain, especially when Walker slid even further down, pulling the duvet down with him.
His fingers slid over short wet hair and traced Walker's jaw, holding him still for a second. "Thought you were the horny one?" because he had to check. Because Walker's soft 'please?' was about the hottest thing in the world.
Luke's head hit the pillows, already gasping as Walker's tongue burned impossible heat, dragging up the underside of his cock. The icy fingers rubbing against his balls should have made him shiver rather than shift to give Walker more room to play, but once the heat wrapped round him turned to suction Luke really didn’t have the coherent words to think about why the contrast made him fly. Vague flashes of inspiration about how he would reciprocate and how Walker would taste on his tongue, feel in his hands, sound when he moaned – those stuck around a little longer, twisting round everything he was feeling, right up until he came.