Work Text:
- simon -
Baz and Simon.
Simon and Baz.
Our names mingle together in breathy moans, movements of lips against skin. I can feel his teeth graze the side of my neck, his tongue in my mouth, his taste linger. Noses crinkle together, push against one another. I feel him pause to breathe, and I’m glad he does because I’m running out of breath. We breathe in sync, heavily at first. My hands make their way to his and wrap around them.
Baz pulls away a little bit.
I’m probably being selfish. I want more, there’s something inside me that tells me not to stop. Not to let him go.
I lead him back to my lips. It’s gentle. Quiet. No biting, no moans. No names. I press against him, letting him know that I don’t want it to stop. Not now, at least.
I can taste him in my mouth again. He pushes me back, following me to the wall. I moan his name in his mouth.
Baz, Baz, Baz.
My tongue brushes his teeth as he pulls back his lips. I starts to join us back together, but he moves his mouth down to the crook of my neck. He sucks, bites, pulls my skin. My breath is hitched and the names are back.
Baz.
Simon.
Baz.
Simon, Simon, Simonsimonsimon.
He presses the word to my skin, to my earlobe, to my lips. He sings the word to me as I bite his lip. He moans it as I lick his adam’s apple. It’s like his new obsession.
He pushes me, Baz pushes his thigh against me. I let go of his lips. His name escapes my tingly lips again, again.
Our shirts are off. Bare chests pressed together. Lips melding, hands slipping past waistbands.
Names moaned.
We might be Simon and Baz, Baz and Simon.
But we’re just one for right now.