[ in the end, it's rufus who makes the decision for him. tseng is caught up in his indecision, uncertain whether he wants to torment rufus a little longer or fuck him right then and there, but then rufus says that—says i want you—and the thread of tseng's self-control goes brittle and snaps in an instant.
he pulls his fingers out of rufus. despite the urgency roiling inside him tseng tries to be careful, but he can't help moving quickly, nor the way that the suddenness of the gesture is likely to leave rufus feeling empty. all tseng can do is search again for the lube and use it to slick himself, not bothering to remove either rufus' swim trunks or his own—those would be precious seconds wasted, between himself and what he does next, which is to rest a palm at the sway of rufus' lower back and then fuck into him in one long, deep thrust. ]
Fuck, [ tseng breathes out, almost inaudible except that he knows rufus will hear. it's fine. rufus should hear, should know what he does to tseng.
when he's all the way buried inside, surrounded by the tight twitching heat of rufus' body, tseng pauses and exhales a shaky breath. in fourteen years tseng has allowed himself to imagine this exactly once, in a moment of weakness at age seventeen; his wildest dreams were nothing in comparison to the reality of having rufus underneath him, around him. ]
Breathe, [ tseng says, and when rufus does he pulls back to start fucking him in earnest. it's not gentle, but neither is it punishing—they're the precise, determined thrusts of someone who knows this is an experience he'll only ever have once, and who is used to reading every inch of rufus' body for reactions he can use to guide the way he moves. ]
no subject
he pulls his fingers out of rufus. despite the urgency roiling inside him tseng tries to be careful, but he can't help moving quickly, nor the way that the suddenness of the gesture is likely to leave rufus feeling empty. all tseng can do is search again for the lube and use it to slick himself, not bothering to remove either rufus' swim trunks or his own—those would be precious seconds wasted, between himself and what he does next, which is to rest a palm at the sway of rufus' lower back and then fuck into him in one long, deep thrust. ]
Fuck, [ tseng breathes out, almost inaudible except that he knows rufus will hear. it's fine. rufus should hear, should know what he does to tseng.
when he's all the way buried inside, surrounded by the tight twitching heat of rufus' body, tseng pauses and exhales a shaky breath. in fourteen years tseng has allowed himself to imagine this exactly once, in a moment of weakness at age seventeen; his wildest dreams were nothing in comparison to the reality of having rufus underneath him, around him. ]
Breathe, [ tseng says, and when rufus does he pulls back to start fucking him in earnest. it's not gentle, but neither is it punishing—they're the precise, determined thrusts of someone who knows this is an experience he'll only ever have once, and who is used to reading every inch of rufus' body for reactions he can use to guide the way he moves. ]