Having Kyne's lips pressed to his own was not new. What was new was Kyne initiating it. As close as the two men were, Kyne had always made it abundantly clear they were no more than friends. Really good friends, but friends nonetheless. More times than he could count, Sowen had made his feelings and intentions known to his friend. It simply was not possible to spend an extended amount of time with Kyne and not fall in love with him. Anyone who could manage it was a far stronger person than Sowen, but he regretted none of it. He had loved the man almost from the beginning. And as long as he could remember, Kyne had spent just as much time rejecting him.
His curiosity got the better of him. Reluctantly he pushed Kyne away, sitting up straighter and damning himself as he did so. Again he asked, "What are you doing?"
In response Sowen received short chuckle. "I believe I'm attempting to shove my tongue down your throat."
The bluntness of his words drew a laugh from Sowen. Straightening up his posture again, he leaned in and brushed his lips gently against the man’s neck. A trail of kisses led the way to Sowen nibbling delicately at the smooth skin. "I love you," he whispered in Kyne's ear before drawing back to place a light kiss on his friend's lips. The chaste kiss had obviously not been enough for Kyne, because he pulled Sowen back in.
More force was applied to Sowen’s chest as Kyne pressed down on him, forcing the older man into the bed. While pinning him down with one hand, the other worked at the buttons on Sowen’s shirt. Inactivity was the only response the older man’s brain could muster as he watched his friend’s fingers slowly try to work him out of his clothes. Impatience surged through his veins, his hands not satisfied with immobility. He pushed Kyne's shirt up, wanting to see all the bare skin he would be allowed. The last button slipped through, and only then did Sowen release the fabric, and only long enough to pull his arms through and toss the shirt aside.
To Sowen's pleasure, Kyne began working the buttons on his own shirt. Not once did Kyne's gaze break contacts with Sowen's, their eyes locking as Sowen remained mesmerized. While Kyne busied himself with that, Sowen stole the opportunity to undo the button on Kyne's pants. Unfortunately, Kyne finished with his shirt quicker than Sowen had expected, having time left to bat at the other man’s hands. Shaking his head, Kyne smiled playfully. "Not just yet, my friend," he told Sowen.
Instead Kyne slid off of Sowen, scooting down the bed a bit. He began working on the fly of Sowen's pants. Eyes not quite convinced they were truly seeing what they thought they were, Sowen breathed a shallow, ragged breath. Within seconds his belt clanked as it thudded against the floor, joining both their shirts in what hopefully would be a pile of mixed clothing.
Now exposed and more than ready, Sowen kept his eyes on Kyne. A very large part of him worried should he do or say anything that he would ruin any chance of this going farther. He did not want to risk that. One quick kiss on the mouth led to Kyne trailing his lips and tongue down Sowen's body. He stopped just above the groin, placing delicate kisses and nibbles on Sowen's stomach as the older man twitched and squirmed. Just as the anticipation was becoming too much, Sowen got what he wanted. The feeling, the pleasure, was more than he could have possibly foreseen. He threw his head back, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
As best he could he steadied his breath. Looking down, he watched as Kyne moved his lips up and down the entire length of the shaft. How was it possible for it to feel so good? Kyne was by far not even close to the first person, or even man, to have a bit of fun with Sowen. He was not new to it, and Kyne definitely was. So how was it he could make Sowen writhe and moan as if he had never been touched? More than once just watching was too much. Sowen had to close his eyes and try his best to breathe.
Things heated up much faster than Sowen had expected, and it did not take long before he felt as if he might explode, both literally and figuratively. Wrapping his fingers in Kyne's hair, Sowen pleaded for him to stop lest it all be over. "Stop. Please," he begged. With a chuckle Kyne obliged, leaving a couple more kisses and nips inside Sowen's thighs before sitting up again.
Their lips met, Sowen forcing his mouth on his friend as if it were the most urgent thing in the world. He willed Kyne’s mouth open with his own, allowing their tongues wrestle and caress each other. If in that moment the world chose to end, well Sowen could not think of a better way to spend his last day on Earth. And if he could spend every day for the rest of his life as such, he would be the happiest man to have ever lived.
Against his own volition the tiniest of whimpers escaped on his breath when Kyne pulled away. Nothing in all the world mattered if he could not have those lips. Those hands. That body. If he could not have Kyne, he wanted nothing at all. In that moment he felt more desperate, more vulnerable, and more helpless than he had ever in his life. Should Kyne decide against it all, decide to dress and leave, Sowen feared he might honestly die.
The look he received, head cocked to the side and inquiring eyes, made Sowen wonder if perhaps Kyne could read his thoughts. Had that been true, he gave no indication of it. And the same stood true for Sowen, even though there were times when he wished it was not. There were times, more often than he would care to admit, where he wished to know how his friend ticked. What made him work in the ways he did? As if to tease him, as if to say the mystery would remain precisely that, Kyne smiled softly before leaning forward and offering Sowen only a chaste kiss to sate the hunger which he had brought upon. "Okay," Kyne laughed again, "now."
For a small window of time Sowen wondered whether Kyne was playing with him. If maybe this had all been a joke and any second he could expect a laugh. But certainly no one was that cruel, and his doubts were soon subsided when Kyne’s hands clutched his own, drawing them to the secure button which he had been denied earlier. His fingers worked quickly, removing the final barrier to the complete angelic visual he had desired for longer than he ever thought possible. Almost before the cloth was gone Sowen found his hand surrounding the one part he never been allowed to touch. At least, not until somewhat recently. The sigh which came from the man above him told Sowen he was doing something right, something of which he had never doubted. One of the many things he prided himself in.
Sowen stroked Kyne as if it were his own, using his other hand and set of fingers to massage every inch he could reach of the man. A few times he stopped, focusing on one thing at a time, hovering in spots that elicited the best responses. He tried his best to keep his eyes on Kyne, giving the man his full attention, but that was just so difficult with all the wiggling he was doing. More than once Sowen had to stop completely and breathe deep.
The last time he stopped Kyne put his hand over Sowen’s, moving it away from his body to allow himself more movement. Specifically, to scoot down to sit between Sowen’s legs and tug at the final remaining pieces of clothing. No protest was offered, in fact Sowen helped, pulling his pants the last stretch off and dropping them on the floor with everything else. Completely bare, just as he had been many times with many other people.
This time was different, though. Every single time with Kyne had been different. Would be different forever. It was no secret Sowen was a bit of a hopeless romantic. He had a problem with falling in love with anyone who looked too long at him. Every person he ever loved, he loved completely, with every ounce of his heart. And yet after every one, after an innumerable amount of romances and true loves, this one was the most right. As cheesy and cliché as it was, Sowen had never felt for about anyone the way he felt for Kyne. It was not just about the sex, the physical relationship; they connected on an emotional level he had thought died in himself a very long time before he ever met Kyne. Kyne was the best, happiest thing to have ever happened to Sowen, and he wanted to celebrate that in every way he possibly could.
Words escaped him in that moment. There was not a word in the entire history of the human race that could describe how absolutely perfect everything was. Nothing could explain how he felt, or the fluttering war which took place in his stomach. In the very pit of his essence he could feel the worry and fear and anger and negativity, all of it, he could feel it all fighting to win its way up. Even when he was happier than he could ever remember being, his subconscious was trying its hardest to ruin everything.
Kyne must have picked up on the nerves and flutter, because he moved back to sitting over Sowen, resting his weight on one arm as he touched as much of the man as he could while still being able to kiss him. Sowen was so excited by then that even the lightest of brushes against his lips, faintest touches of his arm, even the breath on his skin drew wriggles and groans from him.
Again he lost the feeling of Kyne’s lips on his own, and again he let out the weakest of whimpers. If he could just wait, it would all be worth it. Hands came to rest on either side of Kyne’s waist, waiting for what was surely to come. Sowen knew what was happening, but he could not bring himself to look. Feeling himself slip inside, Sowen closed his eyes and let out a small moan. Had he needed it, he would have been breathless.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1xj5zu/no_one_else_part_ii_mm