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Entry tags:
Close as Summer Air [Lalli/Emil]
Title: Close as Summer Air
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Lalli/Emil
Rating: 18+
Length: ~700 words
Summary: Lalli doesn't mind waiting. Taking his time is just as good.
Other: Flashfic. Written for Scout. This one is so-o-rt of supposed to take place in same storyline as "Meet me in the morning", except I couldn't be bothered to read that older fic to make sure that all of the details would match up 100%.
Close as Summer Air
It's impossible to believe Emil is here.
Almost.
But Lalli knows that rounded face. The soft hair he wraps around his fingers. The way Emil's mouth feels against his own, lips like ripe berries, ready for biting.
Emil is here and Lalli has used the top part of his bed more in the last week than he has in years.
The air is hot, close, thick, the evening sun slipping its fingers into Lalli's darkness. He and Emil take off one another's clothes, moving more by feel than by these sharp points of light. Lalli presses him down.
They fit together like fingers in finger-gaps.
Emil has give to him. Not only softness, or at least, not the regular kind. He eases up and opens under Lalli's probing hands and mouth.
He's noisy, too. Gasps with every brush of Lalli's fingertips, with every fraction that Lalli moves lower. Lalli sweeps his tongue and murmurs against Emil's hip that he should be quiet. But maybe his words are too low, or maybe Emil doesn't understand, because when Lalli slides his tongue over Emil's cock the next sound is a moan, deep and loud, as if he has never felt anything like it.
Lalli knows that this isn't true. And he knows exactly why.
It isn't true because Emil felt that last night. And the night before. And the night before that. And every night before that, ever since Emil arrived in Keuruu.
These nights are Lalli's mornings. He has been waking earlier than usual for this. It's worth taking the time, even if he can only slice it so thinly.
Emil moans again. Lalli digs his fingernails into his hips, uses his hands to tell him to be quiet, because with his mouth full of Emil's cock, words are not an option. These walls are like paper and he doesn't want the entire world to know their business.
In the dark, Emil's gasping is as thick and heavy as the air around them. His sounds are muffled whimpers. Lalli can hear that he's covered his mouth with his hands, swallowed his voice against his palm.
Good.
Lalli lifts his head and moves away from him long enough to reach for something. He knows exactly where he put it; he doesn't have to fumble in the dark. The lid of the glass jar scrapes as he removes it, dips his fingers into it for the slippery material there.
In the dark, Lalli finds Emil's mouth.
Lips like berries. Like petals. Soft and bruised and open against his mouth.
Lalli swallows Emil's moans and lets his hand work. Dips low to press between and to slide his fingers into him. He takes his time because he likes the way it feels when Emil groans against his lips. When he rocks up against him, hips jerking as he tries to take in as much as he can, and even more.
Slow. Take it slow. Lalli knows this, knows better than to rush with this. He closes his eyes and kisses him and feels the heat around his slick fingers. For a moment he wonders just how much Emil could take – four of his fingers? All of them? More than that?
It's this thought that makes his cheeks flush scarlet in the dark.
He moves eventually. Pulls himself away from Emil long enough to wipe off his hands, to get himself ready.
Lalli looks at him. The streaks of light give little, but it's enough for him to see Emil's bare outline in the dark. He slides his hands along his thighs, pushes them open wider. Holds him like that and looks. Watches him just for a moment.
All this time, he's been aching for him, and the only reason he hasn't ducked a hand between his legs to try to give himself some relief is because he has learned, in the last few days, that it's even better if he waits for it.
Emil speaks, his voice soft, breathless. It's in Swedish, the words too low for Lalli to make out. He doesn't bother to try. He doesn't have to. Instead, Lalli just kisses him again, and eases into him with a groan.
They don't have much time.
They'll make it last.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Lalli/Emil
Rating: 18+
Length: ~700 words
Summary: Lalli doesn't mind waiting. Taking his time is just as good.
Other: Flashfic. Written for Scout. This one is so-o-rt of supposed to take place in same storyline as "Meet me in the morning", except I couldn't be bothered to read that older fic to make sure that all of the details would match up 100%.
Close as Summer Air
It's impossible to believe Emil is here.
Almost.
But Lalli knows that rounded face. The soft hair he wraps around his fingers. The way Emil's mouth feels against his own, lips like ripe berries, ready for biting.
Emil is here and Lalli has used the top part of his bed more in the last week than he has in years.
The air is hot, close, thick, the evening sun slipping its fingers into Lalli's darkness. He and Emil take off one another's clothes, moving more by feel than by these sharp points of light. Lalli presses him down.
They fit together like fingers in finger-gaps.
Emil has give to him. Not only softness, or at least, not the regular kind. He eases up and opens under Lalli's probing hands and mouth.
He's noisy, too. Gasps with every brush of Lalli's fingertips, with every fraction that Lalli moves lower. Lalli sweeps his tongue and murmurs against Emil's hip that he should be quiet. But maybe his words are too low, or maybe Emil doesn't understand, because when Lalli slides his tongue over Emil's cock the next sound is a moan, deep and loud, as if he has never felt anything like it.
Lalli knows that this isn't true. And he knows exactly why.
It isn't true because Emil felt that last night. And the night before. And the night before that. And every night before that, ever since Emil arrived in Keuruu.
These nights are Lalli's mornings. He has been waking earlier than usual for this. It's worth taking the time, even if he can only slice it so thinly.
Emil moans again. Lalli digs his fingernails into his hips, uses his hands to tell him to be quiet, because with his mouth full of Emil's cock, words are not an option. These walls are like paper and he doesn't want the entire world to know their business.
In the dark, Emil's gasping is as thick and heavy as the air around them. His sounds are muffled whimpers. Lalli can hear that he's covered his mouth with his hands, swallowed his voice against his palm.
Good.
Lalli lifts his head and moves away from him long enough to reach for something. He knows exactly where he put it; he doesn't have to fumble in the dark. The lid of the glass jar scrapes as he removes it, dips his fingers into it for the slippery material there.
In the dark, Lalli finds Emil's mouth.
Lips like berries. Like petals. Soft and bruised and open against his mouth.
Lalli swallows Emil's moans and lets his hand work. Dips low to press between and to slide his fingers into him. He takes his time because he likes the way it feels when Emil groans against his lips. When he rocks up against him, hips jerking as he tries to take in as much as he can, and even more.
Slow. Take it slow. Lalli knows this, knows better than to rush with this. He closes his eyes and kisses him and feels the heat around his slick fingers. For a moment he wonders just how much Emil could take – four of his fingers? All of them? More than that?
It's this thought that makes his cheeks flush scarlet in the dark.
He moves eventually. Pulls himself away from Emil long enough to wipe off his hands, to get himself ready.
Lalli looks at him. The streaks of light give little, but it's enough for him to see Emil's bare outline in the dark. He slides his hands along his thighs, pushes them open wider. Holds him like that and looks. Watches him just for a moment.
All this time, he's been aching for him, and the only reason he hasn't ducked a hand between his legs to try to give himself some relief is because he has learned, in the last few days, that it's even better if he waits for it.
Emil speaks, his voice soft, breathless. It's in Swedish, the words too low for Lalli to make out. He doesn't bother to try. He doesn't have to. Instead, Lalli just kisses him again, and eases into him with a groan.
They don't have much time.
They'll make it last.