It's only when Michael settles back onto the bed, that Adam continues his trek downwards stroking lightly along Michael's erection. Michael bites back a groan and doesn't try to buck into Adam this time.
“Good, just keep feeling.” Adam hums, lazily as he rubs the pad of his thumb over the tip of Michael's erection, making Michael gasp.
Briefly he wishes he still had his wings. Wishes they were still tangible. He wonders what it would feel like to have Adam's talented fingers carding through them. Maybe Adam would run his fingers through Michael's feathers like he does with Michael's hair. Or maybe he would tease along the appendages, or his joints, he thinks with a slight pleasant shudder, emphasised by a particularly gentle squeeze on him. Michael wonders if he's imagining how intense this sensation is feeling. Adam's touched him like this before, yet it's never made him become like this. He's sure if his past self or any of his brothers could see him now, they'd be disgusted. Sneer at how Michael was willingly giving himself to a boy he'd thought of as collateral and second best. At how Michael had stooped so low despite his new mortality to this type of pleasure and worship of flesh (because Adam does touch him in an almost reverential way, despite everything). But they aren't human and they haven't dealt with the enigma that is Adam Milligan who can take and give punishment in hell just as good as any angel, can forgive with more warmth than the Father who created him, and can reduce people and former angels to a mere boneless heap of nerves and flesh, singing in pleasure.
Or as Adam would crudely put it: Fuck them
There's a sharp squeeze, almost painful, and before Adam takes his hands away. “You're thinking too much again.” he cautions and Michael whimpers at the loss of those fingers. In his hair and on his skin. The pressure on the bed eases and he knows Adam's getting off.
Michael shifts alarmed, tugging at this binds and trying to get out. He's helpless here if Adam's left him, no grace to use to get himself out, and his all his human strength is useless again Adam's skill at these knots.
There's a dip in one side of the bed immediately, and fingers are back in his hair, rubbing into his temples. Above him he can hear Adam shushing him softly, yet it seems to echo in the dingy room they're in, overlapping him.
“Right here. Not leaving you.” As if to confirm it, Michael feels Adam's chapped lips press against his forehead. Adam's hips come against his again, as he pulls Michael into his lap, this time without the fabric of his jeans in the way. He never even heard the rustle of clothes being removed, but finally having this skin to skin contact is heady and almost dizzying.
Adam's fingers leave his hair. Minutes ache on by, and the only thing Michael can feel is the heat of Adam's thighs bleeding into his own. Then Adam's fingers are trailing up his thighs, around the curve of his ass, slowly around the ring of muscle, and Michael gasps knowing what comes next.
Adam leans forward again, chest pressing against Michael's own, their cocks rubbing against each other, and murmurs against Michael's lips, as he presses one finger inside Michael. “Relax. Open up for me. Come on.” With that he kisses Michael, slow, lazy, teasing Michael's mouth open with his teeth and tongue, and if Michael were standing his knees would be weak.
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timeasmymeasure
"Feel" 2/3 Supernatural: Adam/Michael [bondage, sensory deprivation, fingers, some more stuff?]
Date: 2011-10-17 05:40 pm (UTC)“Good, just keep feeling.” Adam hums, lazily as he rubs the pad of his thumb over the tip of Michael's erection, making Michael gasp.
Briefly he wishes he still had his wings. Wishes they were still tangible. He wonders what it would feel like to have Adam's talented fingers carding through them. Maybe Adam would run his fingers through Michael's feathers like he does with Michael's hair. Or maybe he would tease along the appendages, or his joints, he thinks with a slight pleasant shudder, emphasised by a particularly gentle squeeze on him. Michael wonders if he's imagining how intense this sensation is feeling. Adam's touched him like this before, yet it's never made him become like this. He's sure if his past self or any of his brothers could see him now, they'd be disgusted. Sneer at how Michael was willingly giving himself to a boy he'd thought of as collateral and second best. At how Michael had stooped so low despite his new mortality to this type of pleasure and worship of flesh (because Adam does touch him in an almost reverential way, despite everything). But they aren't human and they haven't dealt with the enigma that is Adam Milligan who can take and give punishment in hell just as good as any angel, can forgive with more warmth than the Father who created him, and can reduce people and former angels to a mere boneless heap of nerves and flesh, singing in pleasure.
Or as Adam would crudely put it: Fuck them
There's a sharp squeeze, almost painful, and before Adam takes his hands away. “You're thinking too much again.” he cautions and Michael whimpers at the loss of those fingers. In his hair and on his skin. The pressure on the bed eases and he knows Adam's getting off.
Michael shifts alarmed, tugging at this binds and trying to get out. He's helpless here if Adam's left him, no grace to use to get himself out, and his all his human strength is useless again Adam's skill at these knots.
There's a dip in one side of the bed immediately, and fingers are back in his hair, rubbing into his temples. Above him he can hear Adam shushing him softly, yet it seems to echo in the dingy room they're in, overlapping him.
“Right here. Not leaving you.” As if to confirm it, Michael feels Adam's chapped lips press against his forehead. Adam's hips come against his again, as he pulls Michael into his lap, this time without the fabric of his jeans in the way. He never even heard the rustle of clothes being removed, but finally having this skin to skin contact is heady and almost dizzying.
Adam's fingers leave his hair. Minutes ache on by, and the only thing Michael can feel is the heat of Adam's thighs bleeding into his own. Then Adam's fingers are trailing up his thighs, around the curve of his ass, slowly around the ring of muscle, and Michael gasps knowing what comes next.
Adam leans forward again, chest pressing against Michael's own, their cocks rubbing against each other, and murmurs against Michael's lips, as he presses one finger inside Michael. “Relax. Open up for me. Come on.” With that he kisses Michael, slow, lazy, teasing Michael's mouth open with his teeth and tongue, and if Michael were standing his knees would be weak.