Caught in Possession

Ornithology

Warning: Some mature content!

"Can't you at least leave me your lips?", Mew was seated, limbs confidently splayed, on the living room sofa, petulant pout playing on his own as he watched Gulf fold clothes into a neat travel case on the cream tiled floor below.

"Hoy! Don't let Tul hear you say that or he'll get even more fucking annoying"

"But..." - the elder man's eyes darted about the room as if clutching for an undeniable, irrefutable barrier, an Olympic hurdle or pillar box red 'STOP' sign - "...you know we can't sleep if we're not together, baby". A whiny edge to Mew's voice to accompany the pout then.

"'Baby'? Who's the baby? I forget sometimes", Gulf tutted with faux, weary exasperation as he shifted positions to crouch, stretching to zip the packed bag closed at last.

A pat of the sofa cushion beside him - lazily authoritative - as Mew drawled "Come over here and I'll remind you..." - exaggerated wink and bite of his lower lip a bonus inclusion in the deal.

Eyebrow hooked but suppressing a giggle, the younger went to him - promptly ignoring the sofa cushion and straddling the seated man to face him on his lap instead.

"Mew Suppasit, you might be a daddy in the bedroom but I swear you're a baby in every other corner of the apartment"

"Not A baby, Gulf, only YOUR baby. Everyone else should be terrified of big...bad...me" - he pecked the younger man's lips between each of the closing words, hands rising to cradle his face tenderly, possessively?, before adding in mischief, "Annnnd, since when did we ever stay in the bedroom?"

Gulf's lips sought his, then - not a peck this time, but full, open mouthed, tongue thrusting, saliva swapping, teeth clashing, kissing in all of its violence.

When they separated at last, breathless, the effort of prising apart two attracted magnets, Mew brushed his thumb roughly against the mesmeric, pink plumpness of the younger man's lips, intense, hooded stare fixed on them alone, the precise look of a lion before it pounces to devour its prey.

And he spoke in a low voice that was quiet - though not enough so as to disguise the discernible quiver of wavering self restraint:

"Do you know...I'm addicted to your lips?"

"Just my lips?", Gulf bloomed under that penetrative gaze, grasping Mew's tracing hand to pull long fingers into the awaiting wet heat of his own mouth. Sucking the digits hungrily, eyes locked on the elder's in barefaced confrontation.

"Not only them, no krub. I have a few other addictions too"

"Liiike?"

And Mew pulled the younger man abruptly in towards him - a shiver permeating the recipient body - to whisper in his ear, nibbling teasingly at the lobe:

"I'm addicted to every inch of you baby, inside and out"

Gulf whimpered into Mew's neck then, burying his head there as his face and ears flushed crimson - "Mmmm. Daddy..." - hips beginning to rock unconsciously, second nature by then, against the hardness that swelled powerfully in the lap beneath his ass.

But just as the elder's hands gripped the younger's hips to quicken rhythms and reinforce the downward pressure and upward pleasure of delicious grinding, emergent pants and moans spiralling between them as perpetually simmering heat began to flame once again, they were startled apart by that harsh ringtone - "Uff, shia Gulf, can't you find a tone that doesn't induce multiple heart attacks every time it goes off?" - Kaownah phoning to say he was just around the corner in a chauffeured car, on his way there to collect his teammate for the journey to the airport as pre-arranged.