[There's a smile. Marc wants him, and he knows Marc wouldn't lie about something like that. Part of Steven is almost afraid that this is all just a very pretty dream that he'll wake from, that Marc won't remember and he'll be alone with how nice all of this truly is. But it's a worry that's quieted with that kiss that chases away some of those nerves until he's just left wanting. His hands slide up to tangle loosely through Marc's hair, eager to just hang on.
It really feels like Marc is the only thing keeping him anchored at this point.
This isn't quite-- how he ever imagined this going. How his first time would be. It isn't shuddering passion and sensual caresses and sweet promises murmured into each others' ear or whatever fantastic views he'd had, whatever silly little romance he'd picked up from books or movies. It's possibly so much better than that though. The way Marc wants him is real and so very obvious with the way he moves, the way he grabs and guides him.
There's still a flutter in his chest when he feels the press of Marc against him, mouth going dry, eyes going wide. His hands slide down to grip at Marc's shoulders, fingertips digging in a bit as he nods. He can-- he can do that. He can tell him if it's-- too much.
But he wants to be able to stand it.
His legs lock around Marc when he starts to push in, lips parting wordlessly as he starts to push in. Oh, that is certainly bigger than his fingers had been. He can feel the way his body is forced to stretch around the intrusion, accept it.]
Oh my days... [He sighs out, letting his head fall back as he tries to get used to the fullness that follows, tries to keep himself as relaxed as he can. He wants this. He really does, even if it's not-- something he thought they'd ever do or could ever have.
Eventually, he settles for worrying his lower lip and finally, finally, looking up at Marc's face. His own is flushed darkly and he can feel his curls sticking to his forehead, knows his eyes are still maybe a little too wide as muscles tighten reflexively or spasm around Marc of their own accord.]
S-slow, yeah? Just-- ah. [He fumbles and stutters and feels more than a little stupid.]
[ It's tight, as tight as he'd imagined it would be given how it felt when he was using his fingers, but the fact that it's tight around his cock instead makes it feels completely different. Even if he tried he couldn't possibly explain, it's more than just the pure physical sensation, though that would have been enough to steal his breath and make his heart race even faster, as the hand braced in the sheets grasps tight, a shudder racing through him as he holds still. It's not so tight that it's uncomfortable - it's a lot but he can take it - and he knows that's a testament to how much Steven trusts him. Because he might be struggling against the instinct to tense up, but Marc's sure that if there was any hint of uncertainty Steven would be having a much harder time.
He could push harder, but he won't, not until he feels Steven relax around him and willingly take more, and they'll just keep going like that until they hit a limit somewhere.
And he might not be one for the stereotypical sweet caresses and romantic words, but he is good with his mouth in other ways, and at the moment it's with slow, heated kisses scattering over Steven's collarbone and his throat, occasionally drifting back up to his mouth, and Marc's free hand is roaming along his side when he's not using it to brace one or both of them when he's ready to shift again.
When Steven stutters or fumbles he's there to reassure him with that steady touch and expressive sounds that probably do more than words alone could have done to convey how intense and perfect this is for him too. ]
I know it's selfish, but... [ He pauses, swallowing back a groan. He's so close now. ] I'm glad that you chose me. For this.
[It's so much more intense somehow. More than he'd ever imagined, like all his focus is on their bodies, on Marc, and nothing else matters at all. That's fine by him, no matter how overwhelming and scary it may be at times. He-- trusts Marc, and a bigger part of him just wants this. Wants all of it. He likes how he feels, his heart hammering in his chest, the too-full feeling as Marc keeps sinking in deeper.
Oh, and that mouth-- Oh, how wonderful are those? He sighs out, whines with pleasure as lips move over his skin, back to his lips where he messily tries to return the attention. He doesn't rightly know what to do with his hands, what to do in general, so he finds himself hanging on. Fingers sink into Marc's carefully gelled curls that hardly look so prim and proper now, his heel digs in somewhere along Marc's back as he shivers.
The discomfort fades to a background noise eventually, and pleasure takes over. Pleasure in how much it feels like Marc is filling him up, stretching him, and the pleasure that lights up his nerves when he seems to find just the right angle.
He tentatively rolls his hips up, following Marc's pace and rhythm. There's an easy, breathless smile at Marc's words.]
I feel like one of the luckiest blokes right now... [He confesses quietly, still able to look look a little abashed at the confession.]
You're so gorgeous, Marc... inside and out. [Whether or not he sees it himself, Steven can see it so very clearly.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It really feels like Marc is the only thing keeping him anchored at this point.
This isn't quite-- how he ever imagined this going. How his first time would be. It isn't shuddering passion and sensual caresses and sweet promises murmured into each others' ear or whatever fantastic views he'd had, whatever silly little romance he'd picked up from books or movies. It's possibly so much better than that though. The way Marc wants him is real and so very obvious with the way he moves, the way he grabs and guides him.
There's still a flutter in his chest when he feels the press of Marc against him, mouth going dry, eyes going wide. His hands slide down to grip at Marc's shoulders, fingertips digging in a bit as he nods. He can-- he can do that. He can tell him if it's-- too much.
But he wants to be able to stand it.
His legs lock around Marc when he starts to push in, lips parting wordlessly as he starts to push in. Oh, that is certainly bigger than his fingers had been. He can feel the way his body is forced to stretch around the intrusion, accept it.]
Oh my days... [He sighs out, letting his head fall back as he tries to get used to the fullness that follows, tries to keep himself as relaxed as he can. He wants this. He really does, even if it's not-- something he thought they'd ever do or could ever have.
Eventually, he settles for worrying his lower lip and finally, finally, looking up at Marc's face. His own is flushed darkly and he can feel his curls sticking to his forehead, knows his eyes are still maybe a little too wide as muscles tighten reflexively or spasm around Marc of their own accord.]
S-slow, yeah? Just-- ah. [He fumbles and stutters and feels more than a little stupid.]
You're a lot, mate...
no subject
He could push harder, but he won't, not until he feels Steven relax around him and willingly take more, and they'll just keep going like that until they hit a limit somewhere.
And he might not be one for the stereotypical sweet caresses and romantic words, but he is good with his mouth in other ways, and at the moment it's with slow, heated kisses scattering over Steven's collarbone and his throat, occasionally drifting back up to his mouth, and Marc's free hand is roaming along his side when he's not using it to brace one or both of them when he's ready to shift again.
When Steven stutters or fumbles he's there to reassure him with that steady touch and expressive sounds that probably do more than words alone could have done to convey how intense and perfect this is for him too. ]
I know it's selfish, but... [ He pauses, swallowing back a groan. He's so close now. ] I'm glad that you chose me. For this.
no subject
Oh, and that mouth-- Oh, how wonderful are those? He sighs out, whines with pleasure as lips move over his skin, back to his lips where he messily tries to return the attention. He doesn't rightly know what to do with his hands, what to do in general, so he finds himself hanging on. Fingers sink into Marc's carefully gelled curls that hardly look so prim and proper now, his heel digs in somewhere along Marc's back as he shivers.
The discomfort fades to a background noise eventually, and pleasure takes over. Pleasure in how much it feels like Marc is filling him up, stretching him, and the pleasure that lights up his nerves when he seems to find just the right angle.
He tentatively rolls his hips up, following Marc's pace and rhythm. There's an easy, breathless smile at Marc's words.]
I feel like one of the luckiest blokes right now... [He confesses quietly, still able to look look a little abashed at the confession.]
You're so gorgeous, Marc... inside and out. [Whether or not he sees it himself, Steven can see it so very clearly.]