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The second the door shuts behind them, Colt pushes Ryland up against it.
He barely even waits for the lock to click, crowding in so close Ryland can smell his woodsy cologne, the scent of his skin beneath it. It’s enough to get dizzy off of.
It’s been way too long since they’ve last seen each other. Neither Ryland nor Colt could sit through an entire dinner out together, too restless and itching for contact, so they ended up leaving early just to rush back to Ryland’s flat.
Colt’s hands waste no time in gripping his waist, sliding under the shirt to brand his skin. Ryland shivers and barely has to open his mouth before Colt’s leaning in and their lips are colliding.
It’s immediately all heat and passion, the desire to get their hands on each other as quickly as possible.
Ryland responds in kind, sliding his fingers into Colt’s hair and kissing back with fervor. He cradles the back of his brother’s skull, his nape, going hot at the pleased rumble he gets in response.
A thigh slots between his, and then Colt’s prying his lips open wider to slip his tongue inside. Ryland groans and happily grants him access, trying to pull his brother closer, trying to fuse them into one being.
Colt sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and bears down harder until Ryland’s head thunks back against the door. Until every one of his senses are swallowed up by Colt.
Yes, yes.
“Colt,” Ryland breathes in the split second of separation he’s allowed. Colt swallows back the proceeding mmph noise and doesn’t respond.
At least not verbally. Instead, one of his hands starts sliding up Ryland’s stomach, the callused skin sending tingles ricocheting across his nerves. His fingers curl in Colt’s hair, accidentally yanking a few strands.
Colt makes another rumbly noise that edges into something dangerously close to a moan. Ryland’s stomach tumbles, knocks the uneven breath right from his lungs. He does it again, purposely this time, and echoes the resulting sound with something low and breathless.
Colt’s palm passes by Ryland’s ribs and up to his chest, reverent and slow. It makes him squirm, gasp. Fans the flames in his stomach higher.
His shirt’s getting pushed halfway up his torso, but he doesn’t even feel the difference in temperature. Colt’s radiating so much heat it’s bleeding into Ryland, too. With every kiss, every touch.
His blood feels like it’s boiling, a pleasant simmering sensation beneath his skin that’s filling him up. When Colt’s fingers graze his nipple, he arches, unintentionally grinding down onto the very firm thigh pressed between his own.
Oh.
Ryland moans, pleasure lighting up his nerves, repeating the motion when Colt groans encouragingly. He licks deeper into Ryland’s mouth at the sound, like he wants to taste it from the source.
One of Ryland’s hands falls to his brother’s shoulder, curling in the fabric there. He quickly slips it under, trying to nudge the jacket off Colt’s shoulders.
“Off,” he demands breathily, muffled into Colt’s mouth.
Colt makes a low, displeased sound and tilts his head further like it’s even possible to kiss deeper than they already are. He just presses in harder, like he doesn’t want to stop kissing Ryland for even a second. Ryland feels like he’s melting from the inside out.
Colt pulls back for just enough breath to say, “Do it for me,” before he’s diving back in again.
Typically, Ryland’s pretty sure he’d be rolling his eyes. Maybe raising an unimpressed brow until Colt concedes.
Right now, though, he’s just about desperate enough for his brother’s touch, for the heat and closeness, that he unthinkingly does as told, using both hands to fumble the jacket off.
It’s hard to do with his eyes closed and while kissing and being kissed within an inch of his life, but he manages.
Colt cooperates with the sleeves at least, keeping one hand touching Ryland at all times like he can’t stand to let go. It falls to the ground with a muted thump, and then Colt’s pulling back from Ryland’s lips, planting wet kisses across his jaw, breathing fast and heavy.
“You too,” he pants, and Ryland’s nodding before the words even finish. He’d probably say yes to anything Colt asked of him right now.
Colt decides to help him this time, but it’s a very sad excuse of an attempt. He’s too busy kissing down Ryland’s throat, and Ryland himself is too busy moaning lowly at the feeling.
He feels like he’s flushed all over, like everywhere his brother’s lips touch, heat spreads. It’s making him feel lightheaded.
Together, they struggle the coat off, though Ryland does most of the work. Colt’s otherwise distracted, latching onto his pulse and sucking a mark into the skin. Ryland tips his head to the side to provide more access with a soft, breathy sound.
He pants open-mouthed into the air, fingers digging into Colt’s shoulders. Colt shifts lower, starts sucking a new mark. He’s slid his other hand to the small of Ryland’s back, pinkie flirting with the waistband of his jeans.
Ryland twitches at the touch, burning up and overheated and loving it. God, he missed Colt so much.
Like he heard that thought, Colt makes a rumbly noise and starts grinding his thigh right up against Ryland’s cock with just enough pressure to make sensation surge through him. To make him want more.
The sparks of pleasure race up Ryland’s spine and set fire to his gut. He feels himself growing harder in his jeans, filling out as his hips give a helpless couple bucks. Colt doesn’t stop.
Ryland whimpers. Slides his hand back to his brother’s hair and tugs urgently at the strands to coax him back up into a kiss.
Colt groans and obeys, rasping a wrecked “Fuck” into Ryland’s mouth.
“Missed you,” Ryland mumbles back, propping his arms over Colt’s shoulders.
A steady tingling starts to spread through him, pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat with every touch. Every press, every kiss, every swipe of Colt’s tongue and nudge of his thigh that only makes Ryland dizzier and dizzier.
Colt slides his hand up to feel the curve of Ryland’s spine, the way it arches as he shivers. Ryland moans around his brother’s tongue, sucks in a breath that shakes as Colt’s hand slowly feels its way back down to his waist and starts guiding the movements of his hips.
Colt moans back, wavering, a whine caught up in the middle of it. “Missed you too,” he whispers fervently. He shudders when Ryland slides a hand down to his chest, past his stomach. “Ry. Baby.”
Ryland nods, dizzy and drunk on his brother’s taste, on the scent of him pressed so close, the heat and heft and feel of him.
He reaches the hem of Colt’s shirt. Pauses.
Colt makes a small noise into his mouth. Ryland’s breathing speeds up, heart thudding loudly in his ears. He blinks his eyes open, hips jumping at the way Colt’s brows are screwed up. How he looks flushed and needy.
The surge of arousal feels like it sweeps Ryland’s feet out from under him, not unlike the sensation of missing a step while going down a flight of stairs.
Ryland moans, his chest hitching with it. Something in him wants. It’s an aching, hungry type of desire that seems to form a black hole in his stomach. He’s lightheaded, swapping spit with his brother, and he just… needs. Now.
Ryland fumbles for Colt’s belt, fingers eager and shaking.
He gets as far as tugging the buckle loose before Colt’s pulling back with a gasp. A line of spit connects their lips, broken with a swipe of his tongue. Ryland twitches, stomach squirming.
“What—” Colt’s hand flies to Ryland’s, stilling their trembling. His thigh lowers too. “Ry, Ryland, what are you doing?”
Ryland tries not to whine at the interruption. He feels desperate, in a way he rarely ever does. “I wanna…” He swallows, shudders. Finally finds a name for that aching desire. “Wanna suck you off.”
Colt seems to choke on his next breath. Ryland can feel how his hips jolt, how he twitches beneath both their hands. His eyes go wide. “You—”
“Please,” Ryland begs. He truly doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. He is. “I’ll drop to my knees right now, I don’t care, just— Colt, Please.”
Colt looks like someone just slapped him across the face; jaw-dropped, face flushed red. Ryland watches his pupils expand and bites his lip to keep more pleas inside.
Just thinking about it, about tugging Colt’s fly open and fishing his cock out and wrapping a fist around him… Tasting him…
Ryland’s hair stands on end. His stomach clenches, a flutter of pure want as lust washes over him anew. He feels his eyes go lidded.
Ryland holds his brother’s gaze like that, fingers occasionally twitching where they’re frozen reaching for his waistband.
Colt’s throat bobs. “Okay,” he eventually says, shaky. “Okay. But you don’t… have to drop to your knees here.”
Ryland’s hands start trembling again, nerves and excitement and a heavy dose of arousal. “The bedroom’s too far.” He doesn’t miss the way Colt’s face twitches. “We’re going to the couch.”
Colt nods, lips forming silent words that never make it past his throat. He lets go of Ryland’s hands.
Ryland wastes absolutely no time, blood thrumming in his veins and heart pounding as he grabs Colt’s wrist and starts tugging him through the entrance and to the couch. Colt stumbles along behind him, absolutely silent but for his uneven breaths.
Once he’s got Colt in front of him, Ryland puts his hands to his brother’s shoulders. Colt goes, “How do—” and cuts off with a sound not unlike a yelp when Ryland unceremoniously shoves him down onto the couch.
The face he makes when he stares up at Ryland will probably be something Ryland will remember for the rest of his life. Sprawled out, flushed and wide-eyed, breathing heavy. He looks incredibly turned on.
Ryland sinks to his knees.
Colt jolts immediately. “Wai— Hold on, Ry, at least let me—” He scrambles for a pillow, fumbling very cutely when Ryland settles his palms atop his knees. “I don’t want you to… Your- your knees.”
Ryland impatiently shoves the pillow under his knees and scoots forward, lungs stuttering around his inhales. Breathless anticipation crawls along his skin. “There. Happy?” He slides his hands up Colt’s thighs.
Colt makes a short, wavering sound, and says nothing else. With a slight tremor, he reaches out and carefully removes Ryland’s glasses for him. Places them aside all sweet-like, throat bobbing when Ryland gently squeezes his thighs in thanks.
They share one last lingering look. Ryland takes in his brother’s deep red cheeks and wide eyes, and then he flicks his eyes down Colt’s body to his spread lap. The bulge.
With a swallow, Ryland reaches for his belt again. Thankfully, he isn’t stopped this time.
He pulls it loose, movements quick and practiced, forcibly steadying his hands as he unzips Colt’s fly and tugs his jeans down his hips. Colt lifts them to help, and Ryland hears him suck in a breath when he lowers himself back down.
Ryland’s stomach is going crazy, flipping and fluttering and sending his nerves into a frenzy. Every sound, every shift, from his brother makes his heart pound that bit harder.
Ryland leaves the jeans halfway down Colt’s calves, stare zeroing in on where he’s so hard there’s a visible imprint of his shape in his boxers. A very tantalizing, very familiar trail of hair disappears beneath the waistband.
Ryland licks his lips, hunger opening a yawning pit in his stomach. He’s familiar with Colt’s cock by now. Knows its weight, its heft, its feel.
But he’s never felt that heft in his mouth. Down his throat. Had it pressed up against his tongue. Despite the multiple times they’ve exchanged handjobs and had heated frottage sessions, Ryland’s never actually given Colt a blowjob.
It’s funny, the fact that they’ve had multiple accounts of penetrative sex before any oral sex.
Ryland wonders, then, what his brother’s cum tastes like straight from the source.
He’s tugging down the waistband of Colt’s underwear within the next blink, perhaps a bit too eager; Colt goes hnn, a reedy, choked sound, as Ryland fishes his cock out the second he can reach it.
He wraps one hand around it and uses the other to hastily yank the boxers out of the way, just far enough to be convenient. Ryland can’t be bothered.
Colt jolts, thighs jumping. “You…” he breathes, “really want this.”
He doesn’t sound teasing. He sounds like he’s in awe. Ryland just nods, distracted by having his brother’s length so close to his face.
It’s pretty. Which is probably a weird way to describe a dick, but Ryland’s kinda always thought that. Very proportional. Fills out his hand perfectly. Warm and thick.
Ryland gathers spit on his tongue and lets go to lick a broad stripe up his palm. This time when he wraps his fingers around Colt, it’s slick. Colt makes a sound like he was just punched in the gut.
Ryland strokes to spread the wetness, enjoying the familiarity of the feeling. Right behind it is shivery excitement at getting to explore the unfamiliarity of having Colt in his mouth. He swallows heavily, basically salivating at the thought.
Colt fucks into his fist, just a couple tiny thrusts before he’s groaning and forcing himself still. His hips still jolt, though, trembling with the effort of keeping still. He’s hot and throbbing in Ryland’s grip, pulsing a faint rhythm.
Ryland swipes his thumb over the slit to smear the precum, watches as more leaks out. His lips part.
Colt makes a stilted sound. “Have you… Is this your first blowjob?” He sounds breathless already.
Ryland barely spares his brother a glance, shaky exhales puffing out over his tip. “That’s not important right now.”
It’s not his first ever blowjob, but it’s his first one in a long, long while. First one that ever meant something. Ryland intends to enjoy this to his fullest capacity.
Colt makes a strangled noise when Ryland gives him an appreciative squeeze. “It’s very important.”
Ryland ignores him in favor of leaning in and kissing messily down the side of his shaft, lips dragging, smearing spit as he goes. Feeling the warmth. He shifts his hand, presses his thumb up beneath the head.
Colt wheezes. Starts chanting quietly, “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.” His fingers dig into the couch cushions, gripping the edges with desperate strength.
Ryland smiles, close-lipped, undeterred. Once he reaches the base, he takes a deep inhale of his brother’s musk and tilts his head up to nuzzle into the happy trail. The skin beneath is warm, and jumps slightly at the brush of his nose. He wants to kiss it too, to lick it, trace the trail up to Colt’s navel and see how he reacts.
But Ryland has a different goal in mind right now. Maybe next time.
With a quiet hum, he dips back down and slowly follows the trail he just made back up with his tongue. A wet, indulgent drag. Colt’s cock twitches at the ministrations, just in time for Ryland to lap up the precum that leaks from the tip.
“Oh my—” There’s the sound of skin smacking skin, and Ryland glances up to see Colt with a hand clamped over his mouth. He whimpers when their eyes meet, a sound of pure, helpless overwhelm.
Ryland holds his gaze when he slides his hand back down. He wraps a steady fist around his brother’s cock and takes the head into his mouth.
He tries to keep the eye contact, swirling his tongue languidly around the tip and watching Colt’s hand fall as his mouth drops open, but his eyes flutter shut against his will when he wraps his lips properly around Colt’s girth and starts to sink down.
A soft sound escapes Ryland’s throat. He takes it slow, just an inch or two before he pauses and lets the feel of Colt laying heavy on his tongue wash over him.
Ryland’s always suspected he had an oral fixation, or something similar. The way he’s always chewing on something, whether it be pens or that candy Colt buys him sometimes. It helps him focus, settles something inside of his head.
Like the moment he can wrap his lips around something, can push it between his teeth and idle as he chews or sucks on it…
Yeah. It seemed pretty likely.
This kind of confirms that. Ryland sucks gently on his mouthful, slackening his jaw to sink further as a feeling of utter contentment settles over him.
He pauses again before the head nudges his throat. Every muscle in his body feels like it unwinds; even his heart slows its frantic pace. The gnawing hunger in his stomach starts to abate, though the fire licking up his limbs only grows in intensity.
There’s a twitch against his tongue. Ryland swallows back the faint taste of salt and presses up against the weight upon it. Exploring it, memorizing it. It’s heavy. Blisteringly warm and pulsing faintly.
A hand slides into his hair, pushing the bangs off his forehead. Fingers tangle gently in his roots. Not tugging, at least not yet. Ryland pulls back to swallow and hum his appreciation, shivering at the stretch of his lips around the girth.
Then, with a deep breath, he sinks back down. And down. And down. Throbbing heat stretches and fills his mouth to capacity, pokes at his throat.
He suppresses his gag reflex as best he can and welcomes the intrusion further, deeper. A feeling of utter focus starts to take over. His hands, previously slack, twitch into movement and slide up. Press.
Above Ryland’s head, there’s a choked moan, loud and guttural. Beneath his hands, Colt’s hips twitch. Like they tried to thrust but were unable to. Ryland’s pretty sure it has more to do with Colt’s control over himself than it does with the hands pinning him.
Ryland’s lashes flutter imagining Colt gripping him by the hair and fucking his throat raw. Letting go of that control and forcing his head down over and over and over. He shifts on his knees, thighs rubbing together as his own cock pulses.
Not yet.
Ryland pulls back to suck in another breath through his nose. He feels lightheaded, fuzzy. Already halfway to being blissed out. Colt’s hand combs through his hair again.
Greedy for more, Ryland sinks back down, deeper this time. As deep as he can go. He doesn’t quite manage the whole thing, and he didn’t expect to, but he still twitches at the sensation of being choked. He’d moan if he were capable.
Back up to breathe then back down again, over and over, trying to get further every time. Bit by bit. Colt’s moans are low and quivering, the occasional breathy whimper getting mixed in.
Just this, this slow bobbing up and down, is already sending Ryland reeling. He hasn’t even started really sucking yet. Hasn’t been massaging Colt’s length with his tongue to tease out the precum.
Hasn’t pulled off and told Colt to fuck his mouth yet.
Colt’s hips keep twitching, little jerks held back with desperation. Ryland can tell he’s trying to stay still and be careful, to let him go at his own pace. It’s sweet.
But it’s really not necessary.
Ryland tries to slacken his jaw further, open his mouth wider. His nails dig into Colt’s skin and his brows screw up when he forces himself down further.
All the way. All the way, come on.
Ryland chokes, makes a muffled gagging sound. He pushes through it, fights the hand trying to pull him back. He’ll fit this goddamn cock down his throat if he suffocates doing it.
“Ryland,” Colt wheezes frantically, tugs a couple more times at his hair. “Ry, R-Ry, holy fuck, you have to br–hhhoh my god.”
Ryland’s nose meets Colt’s pelvis, pressed into the thatch of hair. Finally. He can’t breathe like this, can barely move, but if he could, he’d be huffing deep lungfuls of his brother’s scent until it flooded his senses.
Instead, the all-consuming feeling of being so full he’s literally choking on it floods him instead.
Oh god. Holy shit.
He doesn’t think he’s ever come untouched, but as he strains against his jeans, Ryland really wonders if he’ll be able to just from this, from sucking Colt off. From choking himself on his brother’s cock. His eyes flutter open just so they can roll back shut again.
Colt’s chanting his name, each one more panicked and desperate than the last. There’s swears and gasps scattered in between. Ryland holds himself there until he starts to tremble, until his head swims and darkness creeps up his vision.
Then he pulls off Colt’s cock, the slide wet and filthy sounding. He’s gasping and coughing the second his mouth pops free, the kind that wracks his body. Luckily, it’s over quick, subsided into shaky pants.
Ryland relaxes his hands while he catches his breath, hypnotized by the sheen of spit gleaming all the way down to his brother’s base. He swallows heavily. Already, there’s a faint saltiness to it.
That… wow.
Ryland needs to do that again immediately.
Colt breathes, “How did you…” and gulps when Ryland meets his eyes. Whatever Colt sees on his face makes his breath audibly hitch. His chest is heaving.
Ryland sits there, mouth dropped open feeling devastatingly empty and hungry, until he’s gathered enough breath to speak. “Grab my head, and do whatever you want to my throat. Until you come.”
Colt’s fingers flex in his hair. A small whimper ekes from his throat. “Are you… are you sure?”
Ryland wordlessly wraps a fist back around his brother’s cock and guides it to his lips. Colt’s entire body twitches, but he goes willingly when Ryland drags his other hand to join the first in his hair.
“I’m sure,” Ryland says, rough, and sinks back down.
This time, he sucks as he goes, pillowing his tongue, purposely letting the drool pool out. He bobs his head until he reaches the halfway point. The point where Colt’s cock teases his throat.
He lets go, hands settling passively back on Colt’s thighs. Though, he can’t help but squeeze just to feel the muscle beneath the skin. The sheer power coiled there. He swallows tightly and delights in the resulting shudder.
Ryland’s already buzzing in anticipation, strained breath going shaky when Colt’s hands slide to anchor properly in his hair. He lets his neck go slack, eyes fluttering shut.
“Holy shit…” Colt whispers. He cradles the back of Ryland’s skull and starts pushing him down the rest of his cock. Ryland goes willingly, blissfully.
Colt doesn’t make Ryland deepthroat him again, at least not right away. He stops when Ryland audibly chokes, pulling his head back up and carefully pushing it slowly back down. He starts out hesitant, unsure, but after a few repetitions his motions gain confidence.
He builds up a rhythm, something slow and dizzying. Like he’s savoring every sensation. The way Colt moans on one particular drag makes Ryland’s stomach clench up; low and guttural and hot. Right after is a muffled mmm, and then he speeds up.
Not drastically, but clearly fast enough to be pleasurable with every push and pull judging by the following stutter, the groan. Over and over again and again.
Ryland’s already in ecstasy. Colt’s moaning quietly on every breath, he’s pulsing against his tongue, and his grip on Ryland’s hair is firm and unwavering. Strong.
Ryland can’t help but tighten his lips on the next pull up, sucking and moaning around his mouthful. It makes an incredibly lewd slurping sound, only slightly louder than Colt’s resulting moan. He’s pretty sure he’s leaking a steady stream of pre into his briefs. He might be so wet that it’s started to make a mess of his pants, too.
He wants to test his theory. Wants to know if this alone can make him come.
Colt’s next moan has a rumble to it, sending shivers cascading down Ryland’s spine. “Fuck,” he groans, breathless and sexy.
Ryland squirms where he’s knelt. He digs his thumbs into the muscles in Colt’s thighs.
“Yeah,” Colt rasps, “I know.” He shoves Ryland’s head a little over halfway down his cock and halts. “Tap… tap three times if you need me to stop. Okay?”
Ryland gives a quick thumbs up, then goes right back to gripping Colt’s thighs. His stomach flips. That means something. Colt’s going to start doing something. More drool slips out from around the circle of his lips.
Colt huffs, strained. “Okay,” he repeats. Exhales shakily.
One more sweet comb through Ryland’s hair, and then he starts thrusting.
Careful at first, still slow, keeping Ryland’s head in one place as he drags his cock against his tongue, the roof of his mouth. Back and forth and back again, long and indulgent. Each thrust in pushes more drool out, until the slide starts to become audible.
It’s just barely louder in Ryland’s ears than Colt’s noises, than the heartbeat pounding furiously through his body. He feels every inch so intimately as it enters and exits his mouth, so viscerally, it’s all he can focus on.
Ryland hadn’t really considered just how sensitive the inside of the mouth is. There’s so much heat; on his tongue, in his stomach, around him, it feels like it’s all he is.
Oh, god.
Colt whimpers at the same time a thrust pushes in a little too deep and Ryland is unprepared for the nudge against the back of his throat.
He gags faintly, but Colt doesn’t stop like he feared. Instead, he makes a sound like he just shuddered, and speeds up.
“Your mouth is…” Colt starts, then trails off with a breathy moan. He tugs Ryland’s head down further, until every thrust breaches the opening to his throat.
Yes, the pit in Ryland’s stomach purrs. More. Deeper.
Ryland feels himself start to pulse in time with the rhythm of his brother’s hips, like the push of his cock is singlehandedly sending the jolts of pleasure down his nervous system; cause and effect.
Ryland’s head goes foggy, soupy, swimming in a haze of pleasure and borderline suffocation. He sucks in breaths whenever he can, but it’s not nearly enough to help. Just scraps stolen in the split seconds between Colt’s rapidly increasing thrusts.
His fingers start tingling. He’s so lightheaded, so hot all over, he can’t tell what’s from arousal and what’s from lack of oxygen. Maybe it’s both. Maybe they’re the same thing.
Colt shifts his grip, starts tugging a bit on the roots of Ryland’s hair as he pulls and pushes his head over his cock like a fleshlight. Not enough for it to really hurt, but enough for Ryland to moan whorishly at the feeling of control. Of possession.
Of being used for someone else’s— for his brother’s— pleasure.
“Holy fuck, Ryland,” Colt suddenly moans, and stuffs his entire cock down Ryland’s throat.
Ryland gives a shocked gag, a desperate, lewd sound as his body tightens up. His following whine gets strangled into gargled silence as Colt then starts really fucking his mouth, fast, powerful thrusts like he finally gave up on holding himself back.
The pit of hunger, of want, simmering in Ryland’s gut absolutely sings with it. With the increased roughness, the pace that makes it obvious Colt’s chasing his own pleasure.
The repeated gags make tears spring to the corners of his squeezed-shut eyes, immediately clumping his lashes and dripping down his heated cheeks.
Colt only seems to be spurred on by every choke, every gag and cry. It’s not quite his full length every time, but it’s often enough that Ryland’s own hips start squirming with the desperate need to get off.
In fact, his entire body keeps jerking, uncontrollable twitches as he’s choked over and over. As his instincts jump and scramble that he’s in danger and he needs to breathe.
Ryland’s brain starts to white out, filling with static. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been so hard, so turned on without being touched a single time, with so little stimulation. He can feel Colt’s thighs tensing with every thrust, the bulge of his cock forcing his throat open.
This is…
So much better than he thought it would be.
Colt’s next thrust slaps against Ryland’s chin, wet and squelching. Loud. Ryland doesn’t know if it’s from all the drool, if it’s his tears mixed in there too. He doesn’t really care to find out. Colt’s moans have jumped up an octave, steadily climbing in volume.
Every now and then, he whines, each one cracking down the middle, quickly chased by another moan or spit out curse word. Strangled chants of Ryland’s name are scattered between them.
It’s a symphony of pornographic sounds, punctuated with Ryland’s own wet chokes and muffled gags, the occasional cry and moan when he’s allowed the breath to. It raises the hair along his nape, drowns him in inescapable heat.
Colt gasps in a ragged breath that sounds like it hurts. “Feels so– good, ah! Ryland— Fuck, fuck, oh my god.” His next moan sounds more like a sob. “Can’t believe you’re letting me… Oh fuck, oh god, yes, yes, yes—”
Ryland wants to open his eyes, wants to see what Colt looks like while he’s moaning like something vital is being pulled from his body. Ryland imagines his brother with his head tossed back and jaw dropped open. Maybe clenched shut. Brows screwed up, flushed and sweaty and overwhelmed.
He imagines what it would look like if someone walked in on this. If Colt’s biceps are bunching, his tendons shifting in his forearms as he uses Ryland’s mouth with frantic desperation. Maybe Colt’s staring right down at him, eyes wide and unblinking like he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. Like he wants to memorize every expression Ryland makes.
Ryland then imagines what he looks like, lips stretched and drooling around his brother’s cock, forced to take its full length on nearly every thrust. How it disappears inside of his mouth, comes out wet and shiny. Just how debauched and ruined he looks with his hair tangled in Colt’s fingers and tears dripping down his cheeks.
It’s too much.
Ryland’s cock aches in its confines, throbbing like one touch could make him come. It just might.
His body’s moving before his brain really tells it to; he starts grinding into the pressure of his jeans, searching for something, anything, to at least take the edge off. He’s not sure he can move his hands, not even to pull himself out and relieve some of the pressure.
Ryland starts making strained, ruined noises that sound a lot like crying. High-pitched and trembling, brutally cut off in sporadic bursts with every thrust of Colt’s hips. Every penetration of his throat. Colt responds with a wrecked moan of his own.
“I’m so close,” he gasps, pace faltering for a good few seconds before returning with renewed speed.
He stops dragging Ryland’s head along with the thrusts and instead holds it still, shoved down deep on his cock, fucking his throat with the kind of reckless abandon he gets when he’s about to come.
A new flood of tears wets Ryland’s messy cheeks. He’s sure by now that more than a few have slipped past the ring of his lips to join the mess inside his mouth, but he can’t taste it. Can’t taste anything, actually. He hasn’t swallowed in a long while. His lungs start aching.
Ryland suddenly wants Colt to come with a surging, howling hunger that surprises even him. He doesn’t just want it, he craves it.
He does his best to encourage it, digging his nails into Colt’s skin, holding on for dear life. He can’t suck, too overwhelmed by the roughness, the speed. The ringing building in his ears and the buzzing in his veins.
Colt moans a few keening ah ah ahs. His fingers twitch in Ryland’s hair, clenching sporadically. “Ry, do I— Inside?”
Yes. yes, yes, yes.
Ryland can’t do anything to confirm it except renew his attempts at getting Colt there. He tries to bob his head, to match the thrusts, but Colt’s grip holds him still, completely unbudging. It’s so unbelievably hot.
Luckily, his twin somehow seems to get the message. “Yeah, shit, okay,” he moans. He hunches over Ryland’s head, surrounding him in suffocating heat. His thrusts go fast and sloppy. “Fuck, fuck, oh god, Ryland, Ryland!”
He slams deep one last time as his orgasm overtakes him. Ryland literally doesn’t have the time to even gag or choke before his brother’s cock is pulsing against his tongue.
Heat floods his mouth, pumps down his throat. Ryland reflexively swallows, everything else inside him going utterly silent.
He stops being able to feel his limbs, his face, his lips. All he hears are his own gulps, Colt’s drawn-out groan, and the ringing in his ears.
“Take it,” Colt growls, breathy. He says it like praise, all low and quiet. Like he’s giving Ryland something he knew he needed. He pulls out a couple inches just to thrust back in. “That’s it. Take it all.”
Gladly. Ryland’s entire body goes limp with a trembling shudder.
Immediately following it is a tingly fire that whites out the rest of his senses and blanks out his mind. An all-consuming euphoria.
The pit of lustful hunger in his stomach fades with every pulse, every swallow. Finally satiated. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so blissed out, so perfectly full.
All he can think, can taste and feel and smell, is his brother.
He starts to go all floaty, content to sit there and take everything Colt gives him for the rest of time. It stops, eventually, but Ryland barely notices. He feels like he’s made of static. Nothing else exists except for this.
Colt’s pants are the first thing Ryland hears when feeling and awareness return to him. He’s pulling out, slow and careful, from the clutch of Ryland’s throat and back onto his tongue. Instinctively, Ryland makes a displeased noise as he retreats, sucking on his mouthful to keep it inside.
Colt hisses, and his nails sting Ryland’s scalp, followed by a sharp yank. He’s smoothing it over in the next second, gasping, “Shit, sorry, that— I’m sensitive.”
Oh. Right. He just came.
Ryland goes slack again, though he can’t help lightly massaging the underside. Savoring the weight, the heat, how well it fills his mouth even while soft. It’s only then that he consciously realizes he can breathe again. He blinks his eyes open.
Colt whimpers through a full-body twitch and finally pulls the rest of the way out. The sound it makes when his cock slips free of Ryland’s mouth, wet and filthy, sends a gentle curl of heat to his gut. Colt slumps back into the couch, looking shell-shocked. His hands fall limply onto the cushions.
His hair is a mess, and he’s flushed red down past the collar of his shirt. There’s a look in his eyes Ryland can’t really decipher, but he thinks he sees a healthy heaping of love swimming around in there. Amazement, too. Beneath all the afterglow and lingering arousal, of course.
Ryland would stare for longer, but his throat very quickly reminds him of the abuse it just went through, and then he’s hunched over coughing into his hand. They’re ragged, painful sounds, paired with his wet gasping breaths.
Colt looks guilty, like a scolded puppy, when the coughs subside and Ryland’s left just catching his breath, throat aching. He slumps over his brother’s lap, nuzzling into his thigh where the boxers are still stretched.
He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth, gathering as much of Colt’s lingering taste as he can before he swallows it back. Salt and musk and iron and… yep, tears. Interesting combination.
Ryland takes stock of his body; the way his heart is pounding, nerve endings tingling with leftover sensation. He feels very distinctly the way he does after a good orgasm, all warm and floaty.
There’s a sticky mess in his underwear, wet and uncomfortable and sensitive when he shifts on his knees.
Ah.
Colt’s hand lands on Ryland’s head. It feels like a role reversal, with his brother’s fingers combing through his hair while he pushes into the touch.
Colt makes a soft sound, something fond and worried. “Are you okay?”
Ryland nods. His throat hurts, and he could use some water and a change of underwear, but otherwise… “I’m great.”
His voice sure doesn’t sound great, rasping from his wrecked throat. He coughs again, tries to clear it.
Ryland can practically hear Colt’s displeased frown. “Wait, did you…” He pauses the petting to settle a heavy palm on Ryland’s nape. “Hold on, come up here. Let me return the favor.”
Ryland sighs happily, genuinely satisfied. He feels like he just ate a warm, home-cooked meal. That level of satisfied. “No need.”
“Wha—” Colt sounds offended, hand twitching. “‘No need’?”
Ryland pulls back to smile up at his brother. The hand falls, hovers between them. “I already came.”
That makes Colt pause. He actually freezes as he processes, still frowning, lips parted to argue. Ryland watches as realization dawns on him, face smoothing out, eyes going wide.
“You… Did you…” He swallows. Wets his lip. “Just from giving me a blowjob?”
Perfectly even, Ryland rasps, “Technically, it was from you making love to my throat.”
Colt’s face pulls a complicated expression then, something between a cringe and a swoon. “You can say fuck, you know.”
Ryland’s chuckle cracks down the middle, comes out squeaky. Colt looks like he melts at the sound of it. “I was wondering if I could. Come untouched just from having you in my mouth. Guess I can.”
“Oh,” Colt says. He buffers for a couple seconds. “Wow.”
Ryland hums. His throat hurts. “I think I have an oral fixation.”
Colt coughs out a laugh, smile lopsided and amused. “You think? Why else do you think I buy you that candy you specifically like to put between your teeth?”
It’s Ryland’s turn to blink as he processes. “Because you love me?”
“Get up here,” Colt laughs, and tugs Ryland up off his knees.
His legs immediately give out from under him before he can fully stand up, but Colt simply catches him and guides him onto his lap. Dick out and all.
The second Ryland settles, he’s cupping Ryland’s face in one hand and bringing him in for a kiss. The other slides to his lower back, just a gentle, steadying touch. Ryland sinks happily into the kiss, hands finding their oh-so-familiar place in his brother’s hair.
“I do love you,” Colt murmurs when he pulls away. He strokes his thumb across Ryland’s cheek, wiping away the drying tear tracks. “Thank you for that, it was incredible.”
The sheer amount of love and adoration in his eyes is destroying Ryland’s insides. “It was incredible for me too,” he whispers.
Colt’s face brightens into such a genuine, soft smile that it makes Ryland’s chest hurt. “Yeah?”
Ryland nods. “Yeah.” He literally came in his pants. Of course it was incredible.
“Good,” Colt sighs, sounding relieved. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
Ryland wants to melt into a puddle of sappy, tender goo. Instead, he presses their lips back together, cheekily coaxing Colt’s mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside.
Colt makes a muffled mmh sound, and his nose scrunches when they part. “Ew,” he complains, grimacing. “You seriously let me come in your mouth?”
Ryland sighs contentedly. “I wanted you to.” He licks his lips. “I like it.”
“Jesus.” Colt’s head tips back, his hand falling to Ryland’s waist. “You’ll kill me one of these days.”
Ryland starts combing through the hair at the back of his brother’s skull, blood warming at how he shivers. “Looking forward to it.”
Colt looks too blissed out to banter back like he usually would, humming a rumbly noise. Typically, Ryland would very much enjoy combing through Colt’s hair and indulging in some post-orgasm kissing, but…
“You know,” Ryland says, “I enjoyed it while it was happening, but I’m really hating that I came in my pants right now.”
Colt’s laugh starts quiet, then gradually increases in volume. Ryland grins along, feeling bright and bubbly all over.
“Okay,” Colt huffs, eyes creased. “Clean up time. Can I carry you?”
Still smiling, Ryland plainly says, “I am perfectly capable of walking.”
Colt deploys his best puppy-dog eyes. “But you don’t have to.”
Very cute. Ryland kisses his forehead. “Pull your pants up, Colt. Come on.”
He slips off his brother’s lap and admittedly does stumble a little at first when he stands, but he rights himself quickly.
Colt grumbles incoherently while he tucks himself away and stands to resituate his clothes. One thing does slip through, though: “You give me a mind-blowing blowjob and don’t even let me pamper you afterwards. I can’t believe this.”
“Your service top is showing,” Ryland tells him.
“It could be,” Colt fires back. “If you let it.”
Ryland sighs, though it’s mostly fond. “Fine. We can shower together.” He rubs at his throat and blinks gratefully when Colt hands him his glasses. “Actually… Water would be appreciated. My throat’s killing me.”
Colt literally perks, face gone all cutely serious like he’s been given an order. He still looks sex-rumpled, cheeks a splotchy red.
“I have a better idea,” he says. “You go ahead and get a bath started, and I’ll bring you clothes and water.” He holds his hand out. “Deal?”
Ryland purses his lips against the grin trying to overtake his face. He shakes Colt’s hand. “Deal. I touched your dick with that hand, by the way.”
“Good thing we’re about to wash up, then,” Colt responds happily, and leans in for one more kiss. It’s sweet, lingering.
He’s smiling when he pulls back, and then without another word he turns and speed-walks out of the living room and down the hall to the bedroom.
Ryland watches his brother go with a surge of love and fondness tangling in his chest. On mostly-steady legs, he makes his way to the bathroom as agreed. He desperately needs to get clean. He starts with his face while he waits.
Colt ends up not only bringing him clothes and water, but a few pain pills too. And a cough drop for his throat. He’s sickeningly sweet while they bathe together, nuzzling and kissing Ryland’s nape, hugging him from behind. He even offers to brew some tea after.
Can’t take the service out of the top, huh.
After said tea has been brewed and Ryland is happily sipping it, Colt leans back against the kitchen counter and clears his throat quietly. “Have you… been wanting to do that for a long time? You were, uh, pretty eager. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Do what?” Ryland asks on autopilot, then actually processes the question. “Oh. No, not really. I haven’t been, like, thinking about it and not telling you, or anything.”
Colt nods slowly, letting Ryland continue. “It was our first blowjob, so, you know, I was excited. To find out what it’d be like. I got kinda… caught up in the moment. Honestly, I didn’t expect to like the choking part so much.”
Another sip, thoughtful. Ryland frowns slightly down at his mug. “You know, now that I think about it, there was this, like… hunger inside of me. For it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before.”
Ryland glances up after his words are met with silence to find Colt staring very intently at him, breathing shallowly.
“Hm,” he says when their eyes meet, looking very normal about the information Ryland just told him. Which is to say, very obviously screaming in his mind about it.
“…Aforementioned oral fixation,” Ryland eventually adds by way of explanation, gesturing vaguely.
Colt’s cheeks look a shade darker than they did a minute ago. His voice is strained and carefully even when he says, “Yep.”
Ryland hides his own warm face behind his mug. And that’s that.
Colt stays close while Ryland finishes his tea in comfortable silence, and soon enough they’re cleaning up and deciding to call it an early night.
Once they’re settled in bed with Colt snuggled into Ryland’s chest like always, he yawns and asks, “Can I try sucking you off next time?”
Ryland looks over from his bedtime book, glasses cleaned and perched atop his nose. “I thought you didn’t like the taste.”
Despite the attentive care from Colt, his voice still has a slight rasp to it, but it’s on its way out. At least it doesn’t hurt to speak anymore.
“I didn’t like my taste,” Colt corrects. “I love anything that has to do with you.”
Ryland tries not to show just how warm that made him feel. “Okay, sure. I won’t throat-fuck you, though.”
Colt shivers. “You could. If you wanted.” He swallows audibly. “I’d let you.”
“I know you would.” Ryland settles his palm over his brother’s nape, cupping the soft, hot skin. “I’d rather do it differently with you. Pull your hair, praise you. You’d like that more.”
Colt’s exhale is shaky. “Yeah. You have a point.”
Ryland kisses the top of his head, breathing in the comforting scent of their shared shampoo. “We can talk more about it tomorrow, okay?”
Colt nods, shifting his head to plant a kiss over Ryland’s heart. “Okay.”
Ryland sighs into the feeling of tired contentment settling over him. He feels warm all over, tingling where his brother kissed him.
Colt’s breathing starts to even out, and after a prolonged moment of staring, Ryland gives up on the book he stopped paying attention to once Colt first spoke.
He sets it and his glasses aside and slides down the pillows, taking Colt with him until they’re tucked together beneath the sheets, as close as they can get. Colt mumbles a sound of near-sleep, squeezing around Ryland’s waist.
If this is the level of affection and clinginess Ryland can expect after every blowjob, maybe he should do them more often…
The sore throats are totally worth it.