[ John grunts, choking on his breathing when Clarice clenches her muscles around his cock, too much, too overwhelming, and yet perfect at the same time, the kind of feeling that John has thought he wasn’t allowed to feel anymore, wasn’t allowing himself to feel. Not when everything was falling apart around them and Mutants needed the Underground more than ever, there was no time for this.
But he was done fighting against his feelings, fighting against himself. He wants Clarice and he can juggle these feelings along taking care of the Underground. He knew he could, and he was tired of trying to push his desires away for the good of the rest. He deserved this, too - a shot at happiness.
Pressing his mouth to the crook of Clarice’s neck, he holds her a little tighter for a moment, just long enough for him to shift them, lying Clarice down on the cot and settling above her, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of her head as he thrusts his hips into hers, looking straight into her eyes. ]
( He moves her onto her back and Clarice makes a short, sharp noise that she can barely cut off as he pushes inside of her. It's still not enough to give them away, but she turns her head to pant wetly against the sheets. Her legs wrap around his waist immediately, the heel of her foot pressed against the small the dip above his ass, nails digging into his shoulders. She doesn't want to let him go, now that she has him.
When she speaks, it's barely a whisper, something frantic shaking her voice. )
John, I --. I can't, it's too ...
( His hips shift, pressing just right, and Clarice chokes on her breath, eyes squeezed shut. She isn't going to last. Her mouth finds his then, kissing him desperately, something greedy and full of need unfurling inside of her. )
[ All the noises Clarice are making are deafening to him. While he knows that she's being quiet, that they're both being quiet, fabric rustling as they move, harsh pants in the tiny space they've found themselves in, the sounds she makes are filling up his ears, making them buzz pleasantly.
His muscles are tense as he moves over, inside her, his fingers curled around the metal cot. The bed is too small to be comfortable, but John barely spares it a thought as Clarice wraps her legs around him, whispers against his skin, making him redouble his efforts, so determined, so... she'd probably say, John-like, only there is nothing soldiery about the way he's moving, about the way he's wanting.
He's shaking with it, skin sweating as it slides against Clarice's, pleasure shooting up his spine with every noise, every shift, every thrust, every bitten down moan. He makes a noise into Clarice's kiss, desperate and a little crazed, a whimper, a shiver running through him. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-24 08:23 pm (UTC)But he was done fighting against his feelings, fighting against himself. He wants Clarice and he can juggle these feelings along taking care of the Underground. He knew he could, and he was tired of trying to push his desires away for the good of the rest. He deserved this, too - a shot at happiness.
Pressing his mouth to the crook of Clarice’s neck, he holds her a little tighter for a moment, just long enough for him to shift them, lying Clarice down on the cot and settling above her, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of her head as he thrusts his hips into hers, looking straight into her eyes. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-28 05:21 pm (UTC)When she speaks, it's barely a whisper, something frantic shaking her voice. )
John, I --. I can't, it's too ...
( His hips shift, pressing just right, and Clarice chokes on her breath, eyes squeezed shut. She isn't going to last. Her mouth finds his then, kissing him desperately, something greedy and full of need unfurling inside of her. )
no subject
Date: 2018-04-01 09:15 am (UTC)His muscles are tense as he moves over, inside her, his fingers curled around the metal cot. The bed is too small to be comfortable, but John barely spares it a thought as Clarice wraps her legs around him, whispers against his skin, making him redouble his efforts, so determined, so... she'd probably say, John-like, only there is nothing soldiery about the way he's moving, about the way he's wanting.
He's shaking with it, skin sweating as it slides against Clarice's, pleasure shooting up his spine with every noise, every shift, every thrust, every bitten down moan. He makes a noise into Clarice's kiss, desperate and a little crazed, a whimper, a shiver running through him. ]