Island

[Trillian]

Embolded by the response, Charlie\'s hand crept lower, loosening whatever he need to of Beau\'s pants before plunging his hand in slowly, fingers moving purposefully past the curls of wiry hair to reach a rod he could wrap his fingers around.  With his wrist straining aginst the material that was still around Beau\'s hips, he used his fingers mostly in movement to massage and rub with his thumb along the thickening shaft, tracing the lines of the veins upon it.
 
The rhythm of his hips grew a little more heated and elongating so that it was more of a definitive thrust and rub, humping Beau\'s leg like a randy dog, feeling surreal and a hazy pleasure both at once.

[Moth Malaise]

Charlie\'s boldness was intoxicating. Usually Beau would swat away hands groping straight for his cock, but something about the hot night air and their closeness and the absent world made it feel right, and the restlessness made so much sense. He shivered as the fingers wrapped around him, and his face tightened momentarily, tongue curling around Charlie\'s with a flicker more aggression now.

His body began to relax again; he eased into the fingers, settling as Charlie rubbed against him that way. Animal arousal began to crackle and glimmer in the pit of his belly, and with it came an urge to dominate, to demand.

He shifted beneath Charlie, nudged him onto his back. The removal of Charlie\'s shirt was swift, void of decoration or flourish, and Beau flicked the garmant to one side.

This done, he leant down and began to browse his entertainment for these nights. His mouth trailed collar bones and shoulders and nipples, down to navel, tongue travelling the lines of ribs and nose tracing the line of hair down to the hemline of Charlie\'s trousers. Hot air ghosted over his naked skin. Beau took his time.

[Trillian]

Charlie\'s hand was sacrificed when Beau moved him and hovered over him, the hand had to go when his arm was required for his shirt hole, and he wasn\'t quite bold enough to go groping down that path again, not when the positions were more awkward.  Shame, because he\'d wanted to prove to Beau that he wasn\'t \'scared of touching his body\' like he\'d described as a lesser lover (or so that was how Charlie had understood it).
 
He was lost for what he was doing when Beau began licking and nibbling at his body, feeling overwhelmed and grateful for their other\'s taking charge.  Beau still intimidated him, as a fighter, now as a lover, but there was something in him that wanted to rise up and meet that intimidation rather than cowering.
 
Open mouthed and sighing, gasping, making small sounds of pleasure that floated to Beau\'s ears, he wiggled ever so slightly in the sand, his hands flat on the ground before he realised he could be touching too, and brushed them through Beau\'s hair, finding a knot but not pulling on it, instead gently working his fingers through.

[Moth Malaise]

Charlie\'s noises of pleasure were very contentedly received. Beau drank them in, enjoying each little sound and coaxing to produce more, stroking with his tongue and brushing his mouth and sucking and nibbling lightly. He loved to give; sometimes, he adored being selfish and liked to lie back, have a lover work them both, but there were times when he wanted to be this way. Wanted to pleasure.

Mm, clothes. Why were clothes needed here? Clothes were for warmth, which was in ample supply, and modesty, which was pointless and empty.

He tugged open Charlie\'s trousers, dragging them down and off with minimal fuss. Getting naked was always awkward the first time with a partner - he didn\'t want that awkwardness here. He set about undoing his own shirt as he reached for Charlie\'s lips, stroking his mouth across the other\'s.

[Trillian]

Charlie was both impressed and shocked by how quickly and efficiently his clothes were removed.  It was obvious Beau was going to be a masterful lover, if he knew the practical application of his own written art.  Once again, Charlie felt intimidated in Beau\'s presence, wondering if he would measure up in all manner of speaking.
 
Experience; he had enough but with very few partners.  This whole sleeping-with-someone-you-barely-know-because-they\'re-hot thing wasn\'t something he was used to.  On one level (his topmost level that clouded most other things) it was exciting.  On another he was horrified by how easily he\'d nominated himself for this, how quickly things were turning to his own submission, how much he wanted this!  That last thing was what surprised and slightly horrified him the most.  He\'d always believed himself controlled and sensible.  This act with someone he barely knew was neither controlled nor sensible.  It was manic and impulsive.
 
Now he was responding passionately to Beau\'s kiss, flinging his arms around him, thrusting his hips upward to meet the other, feeling promiscuous and strangely free.  The gritty sand at his back and the warm, smooth, hard body upon him was a sensation that had him pining to experience Beau as much as he could - drifting hands that explored Beau\'s muscled back, fingers that bit into the other\'s bottom and squeezed, pants fell at his ministrations.

[Moth Malaise]

Beau\'s back dipped just a little as the hands wandered down it, his eyelids flickering in pleasure - it was a sensitive area, and there was just something about a lover beneath you stroking your back. Such a sexual interaction. The thrusts of Charlie\'s hips were enticing, and a very large part of Beau wanted to respond, wanted to teach Charlie a proper rhythm and channel his desperation into proper pleasure.

He resisted though, withholding his hips, waiting until Charlie had the trousers down. He kicked them off. It left him in black boxers, soaked with salt water, and the bell-sleeved white shirt now capturing his elbows. His hair was tousled all over his face; between the blonde strands, his deep blue eyes were soaked with dark, primitive lust, the pupil swollen.

"Relax for me, mm?"

He placed his palms on the sand either side of Charlie\'s head, head tilted a little, so that kisses could be taken and given between them freely. He angled his hips down.

"Close your eyes..." he murmured. "Concentrate on the rhythm, nurture it... let yourself go..."

Slowly, with deliberation, he began to move his hips. Working them down, hard and achingly idle, an easy roll and yet with unshaken control, watching Charlie\'s face for reaction to this simulation. His fingers moved to play along the other\'s thighs, drawing his attention, wanting him to concentrate.

[Trillian]

Charlie allowed himself to be led by Beau\'s expert touch, his eager touches and keen thrusting slowing right down to match the other\'s rhythm.
 
"Artemis..." he sighed, wanting to say something complimentary but forgetting how to speak and what he\'d intended to say as he relaxed fully into the other man\'s gentle rubbings.  Eyes half-lidded (bedroom eyes, was the terminology, he believed), and parted lips were how his enjoyment mirrored in his expression.
 
As the delicious fingers trailed across the sensitive skin of his thighs, he shivered.  His hands brushed up and down Beau\'s back, tracing patterns all the way to his lower back, across his buttocks and then up his spine again, in flowing curling waves.

[Moth Malaise]

"Mm... that\'s it..." The softest of murmurs against Charlie\'s lips, an encouragement and a reassurance, praise. His own eyes were half-open; their haunting blue gaze trailed over Charlie\'s face, drinking in his reaction, and every few moments, he would brush his mouth over the parted lips beneath his own. His fingers fell into rhythm with Charlie\'s delightful stroking. He mimicked the patterns, let his island lover have that little bit of influence, that little bit of safe control.

He adored it this way. Lovers like Charlie came along only rarely. Virgins were troublesome, and straight men were always too reluctant and too time-consuming... but a little inexperience was wonderful. That raw enthusiasm, instinct and no inhibitions, but still teachable and mouldable. Beau loved to teach. Even if he never saw a lover again, he liked to think that in their future, in bed with someone new, they would still remember the tender lessons and the face of Beau Locke. He would still own that tiny part of them. Never forgotten. Never left.

Slowly, he tilted his head down, mouth coaxing over Charlie\'s throat as he made his way to the other\'s ear. He flicked the lobe with his tongue. When he spoke, his voice was low and oh-so-quiet with all the intimacy of a secret, tender, dripping with the gentlest of lust.

"Call me Beau, mm? My real name..." A caress of mouth over Charlie\'s earlobe. "When was the last time for you, mm? Have you missed those feelings?" His palm slid down Charlie\'s thigh, fingers squeezing gently at the flesh, adoring him. "I want you to tell me what feels good... let me take you to paradise, mm?"

[Trillian]

"Beau?" he questioned softly, and somehow that suited this man more so than Artemis.  Why such a name?  Something about his uncle?  Who knew, who cared?  Charlie was too lost in the sensations with this man to analyse the other\'s complexities.  It wasn\'t his mind he was getting to know, right now.
 
"A while back," he admitted before breathing a soft noise of pleasure and moving his legs apart a little to grant Beau better access, feeling strangely whore-ish in doing so.  He ignored it, squashing it down, not wanting his doubts to get in the way of this pleasure.  Fingers curled and nails scratched at Beau\'s buttocks, dragging them up softly.  Good thing he looked after his nails, they were smooth and rounded, hands that didn\'t know hard labour, save building the shelter today.
 
"It all feels good," Charlie replied with a slur, then rethought his answer and gave a new one.  "Not knowing what\'s exactly next," a tiny smile played on his lips as he confessed that tidbit.  He liked relinquishing control to a degree, he liked little gasps of surprise as he did things unexpected - such as reaching into Beau\'s pants before and curling a hand around him to show he wasn\'t meek, or kissing Beau in the first place, before that, rubbing up against him.  Charlie knew he was assumed to be shy and submissive, but he was and wasn\'t, for once he knew he didn\'t have the wrong idea with how his potential partner felt, he tended to go for what he wanted.

[Moth Malaise]

Charlie\'s noise of pleasure, the parting of his thighs, caused Beau\'s pupils to swell and a shiver to dart down his spine. Such invitation. Beau had no problems telling a lover what he liked in bed, what he\'d want them to do, but certain things couldn\'t be asked for. Things like real desire. Real acceptance.

The rocking motions of his hips began gentler, a little slower, as his body moved to settle between Charlie\'s legs and let their erections rub together through underwear. The extra sensation was delicious. Beau shivered, a moan torn from his throat; now that seal was broken, now the first noise had come, a little pressure was taken away and he allowed another one, softer this time, as he momentarily rubbed back against the hands doing wonderful things to his buttocks. Even if he preferred to top, he liked that - it was visible in his face, the way his eyes drifted out of focus and he pressed his lips together in \'mmm\', before his tongue flicked out, wet them slowly.

Control. He didn\'t want to let go yet. He fisted the sand beneath Charlie\'s body and pushed himself to sit up slightly, rubbing deeply between the other\'s legs now. Beau\'s mouth lowered to one nipple; he caught it and sucked, flicking with his tongue, the other hand tickling lightly down Charlie\'s side.