harrisonwells | EUDIO: IC INBOX

[Harrison hits the wall a little harder than expected, knocking just that much more breath out of him as Barry almost drinks him in. It's more than he expects, an escalation from their brief connection at Cisco's party, this is different, he can almost taste how much Barry needs something from him.

So he relaxes against the body crowded so close to him, one arm still tight around Barry's waist, the fingers at the back of his neck sliding forward to cup along his jaw, a thumb tracing the line of his cheek. There's no room for him to whisper, not yet, but there's nothing to say, not when everything is pouring out so clearly in this. There's nothing more for Harrison to do, yet, than let Barry have this.]

( it is different -- he isn't drunk this time, mainly, he's in charge of what he's doing. he knows what he's taking from harrison, pining him back and sucking on his lips, the familiar odd vibration of pent up emotion pressed in against him, more than a little wanton in this particular circumstance. teeth find harrison's flesh lower lip and bite him softly, eagerly, demanding something that he can't name, that he doesn't let them put words to yet. he just does, feeling it out, laying palms flat on the points of harrison's slender hips, and pushing his shirt just fractions of an inch higher, making his intent clear. )

[That vibration is familiar and it pulls a gasp from him, briefly wide-eyed as memories rise entirely unbidden, someone else melting into him like this, eager and wanting, the need coming through his skin with every touch. It's enough to have his hips shifting into Barry's hands with a low sound that could be a groan or a growl, or the barely-there whisper of a name, too muffled in the kiss to know.

There had been a fraction of this before, the realization that this was possible, but it's here now and Harrison hadn't realized how impatiently he'd been waiting for it. The roll of his hips and slide of his teeth against Barry's lip, those are enough to say yes without cluttering the room with words neither of them want to reach for.]

( he eats up that sound on Harrison's lips, immediately hungry for more of them to devour, a firstly slow and tempered kiss gaining passion, speed. whatever hesitation those wayward hands first expressed, they now grow bolder in climbing up the footfalls of harrison's ribcage, palming smooth but muscled skin with a vibrating touch, tempting and trusting. teasing, too.

for a man who can think a mile a minute, he wills his brain slower, not to think beyond the touch he presses against the body in front of him -- not his mother's murderer, not his sworn enemy, not anyone except another man he looks up to, and this time, this time, he's sure he won't be betrayed. he hopes he won't. maybe if he gives harrison something worth staying for, he won't leave barry like all the others.

even he can tell how pathetic that is. he still presses a firming cock against harrison's hip, thigh sliding between his legs the nudge at his own. )

[It's that shifting of Barry's hips that brings Harrison back to his senses. He blinks his eyes open, still a little dazed from the surprise of feeling Barry's hands vibrating against his skin and the memory it brings back, and his fingers slide to the back of Barry's neck as he pulls back just enough to whisper.]

Barry. Wait. [He keeps his arm tight around Barry's waist, not letting him move back, this isn't a rejection, this is only a pause. Because he needs to know, searching Barry's face.] I'm not him, Barry. Is that what you want?

No.

( he says it immediately, almost unwillingly, still under the effects of having harrison near him and his arm holding tightly close. it's almost a painful innocence that his expression shows, big eyes looking up and down across harrison's features before he kind of -- realizes, what they're doing. realizes that he doesn't mind, hands slowing at his sides until it's a normal hold, thumbs strong on his ribcage. )

I-I mean. No, I just ... want ... ( he flushes and ducks down against harrison's neck, hiding his face away in sheepishness. ) You, I guess. I mean. Definitely, yes. Right? Is that bad?

EUDIO: IC INBOX

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