[C] looking for a good time

His gaze faltered as Ian stared him down, the man was firm about this and it was setting in that it would be Ian or the substances, he couldn't have both.

The deep kiss pulled him out of his initial sense of panic, he relaxed again under the man's slick lips.

Ian was going to help him through this.

With a soft moan his body moved more instantly, thrusting down against his fingers as his hand around the man's cock got more demanding. If he was going to feel like shit later he wanted to feel good now.

He kissed Dea deeply and thoroughly, until his head was swimming with lack of oxygen.

When he pulled back, his head dropped back, resting on the back of the couch. His chest was heaving, his hips jutting upwards with the irregular jerks of Dea's hand.

His hand curled around Dea's cock firmly.

Deacon's head rested on Ian's shoulder as they broke away from the kiss, he was left breathless, panting heavily as he watched the man's heaving chest.

Seeing the man so worked up only made his own body more aroused.

His hips jerked upward into the hand wrapped firmly around his cock before rocking back onto the fingers inside of him.

He could feel the telltale heat pooling inside of him, as such his hands worked more dutifully, pumping the man as his thumb bore down on his head, rubbing in tight circles.

He could be so cruel, right now. Make Dea suffer a little. Have his fun, see the man wither and whimper.

On the other hand, he could be kind. Give him the orgasm he'd been craving since they'd begun playing. It'd be so sweet, so satisfying to watch the Warlock come undone in his lap again.

How own orgasm was coming washing up on him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, grunting as he came.

In that moment he made his decision, pulling his hand away before Dea could come to his own end.

He felt Ian pulsing in his hand, hot semen dripping down over his fingers. The thought of the pleasure he must be feeling made him purr for a short moment.

That was cut short as Ian's hand moved away from him.

He remembered what the man had said about only playing until he himself had come.

Deacon cursed under his breath and writhed in Ian's lap, his thighs tensing on either side of him as he was denied.

"Ian please..."

He whined, nipping and lapping at the man's ear as his hips ground forward.

"Nu-uh." He gave Dea's blushing thigh another little spank.

"Go get me a tissue," he ordered, laying back and making himself comfortable.

That was a damned good orgasm. The feel of a tight ass around his fingers, a hot body against his own, breath fanning over his chest in short, sharp bursts, had been amazing.

And the whimpering was just as amazing.

He was filled with all this pent up energy, his body felt on edge from being denied when he was so close.

In all honesty he should have expected this from Ian, he was a sadist in his own cruel little ways.

Grudgingly he moved to stand, there would be no point arguing it when the man had made up his mind.

He grabbed a handful of tissues and tossed them at the man, he was sulking.

Ian's brows raised as the tissues were tossed in his direction, and he straightened up a little in the chair, blue eyes sharp.

"Try that again." His voice was even, and he hadn't raised it above his normal tone, but there was something in it that was silently demanding. Something that made Dea know he had pulled exactly the wrong move by sulking instead of cleaning him off like he'd been ordered to.

Deacon paused, he had every intention of skulking off to the bathroom to clean himself up and leave Ian on the couch to deal with his own shit.

His gaze narrowed as he stared down at the ground, he knew that tone, even if it was indistinguishable from his usual voice. That wasn't a suggestion, and he wasn't dumb enough to think that if he messed up again that he would walk away from his mistake unpunished.

He pursed his lips and cursed under his breath as he made his way back, dropping to his knees in front of the man.

Picking up the tissues he diligently went about wiping up any remaining liquids marking Ian's skin.

His hand dropped onto Dea's head, stroking his hair back tenderly. "Good boy."

He watched Dea work, fingers still teasing through his hair idly. "Haven't I taught you that patience makes for better fun?" he asked lightly. Did Dea really think that Ian would ever just let him go without, without having a bigger, better plan for him?

He wasn't like that.

When he was cleaned up, he pat his thigh in invitation. "Come on up here."

The hand in his hair ebbed his temper slowly. Internally he had a lot of emotions running through him, so much had happened tonight that he hadn't quite processed so as soon as his temper had flared he had focused his energy on that.

"I've been patient..."

He muttered softly as he cleaned, he'd been more patient than he had ever been, he had left Ian alone for three years, purposefully avoiding him because the man didn't want to see him.

Now that they were finally reunited Ian had been cruel in teasing him like that.

Deacon hesitated for a moment before crawling into Ian's lap once more, his disappointed gaze cast down at the couch.

"The more patient you are, the better it is."

He stroked Dea's cheek gently and leaned forwards to press a kiss to his forehead.

"We're going to go to bed, and in the morning I'm going to forgo my run to spend the morning in bed, playing with you until you can't even think your own name." His voice was filled with promise.

"Think you can last through the night with my cock pressed against your ass?" he asked with a little grin. He didn't wait for the answer, just gave Dea's hip an affectionate pat the gestured for him to stand.

"Let's get to bed, sweetness."

Deacon gave a little sigh as Ian continued to speak to him, with each gentle word and touch he could feel his anger and disappointment draining away.

This had happened so many times in the past, he had always found it so difficult to stay mad at Ian.

His lips kicked up into a small smile, Ian was going to stay the night with him and then treat him in the morning.

"Aye..."

He muttered in agreement, he could handle that. At the feeling of the hand on his hip he stood up, pressing a small kiss to the man's shoulder interlacing their fingers so he could guide him back to their bed.

"Good."

He gave Dea's hand a little squeeze when their fingers laced together, and followed after him at his usual ambling pace.

When they were in the bedroom, he gave Dea's backside a light swat.

"You can touch yourself all you want if you wake up before I do but if you cum by your own hand, you're going to be doing more than just a little light sulking, sweetness."

He crwaled into bed, making himself comfortable under the light sheets, and opening his arms for Dea to join him.

Deacon gave a soft chuckle as his backside was given a swat.

Seeing Ian crawl into the bed and make himself comfortable brought with it a sense of nostalgia.

He crawled into bed himself, curling in against the man and laying his head against Ian's chest.

He let his eyes slide shut as he breathed in the Shifter's scent. It was a smell that hadn't been in this bed for a long while, instead it had been buried under the presence of countless other men, men he didn't remember the names or faces of.

Subconsciously his arms wrapped around the man, gripping onto him, worried he would disappear as soon as he fell asleep if he wasn't holding onto him.

Sleep took him easily enough, everything that had happened had exhausted him more than he knew.

It wasn't often that he woke up early but he was startled awake by movement, his eyes slid open as he watched the rise and fall of Ian's chest, his breathing deep as he slept.

A smile graced his lips as his hand moved to smooth over the broad chest beneath him.

"I didn't realise you'd become a limpet," he muttered humorously when Dea wrapped his arms tight around him. "Spell gone wrong?"

He didn't mind the tight hold, though, and soon found it comfortable. He curled around Dea, holding onto him, and soon found himself in a heavy sleep.

Ian usually had a good internal body clock. Almost every morning at half five, he woke and was ready for the day before six, so he could go for his run. But on days that he allowed himself a reprieve from the great amount of exercise, not hell or high tide could wake him up before he was ready.

That was certainly happening this morning.

He didn't even twitch at the unfamiliar feeling of a body lying next to him. He was laid back, snoring lightly, one arm spread over the bed, and the other still curled around Dea.

The had on his chest did nothing to rouse him.

His fingers dusted over Ian's nipple, one good thing about the man being such a heavy sleeper on the morning that he had down time was that it gave Doc a few good moments to do as he pleased.

He pulled the covers off of Ian's body, admiring it for a long moment.

The efforts of all that exercise didn't go to waste, he was covered in perfectly timed muscles.

The Warlock gave a groan as his hand slipped between his own legs, slowly stroking his own hardened length.

Pulling the covers from Ian's body just had the man unconsciously searching for a source of heat. Ian wasn't the sort of man that could tolerate the cold well, and the morning chill wasn't pleasant.

He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat when he found Dea's body, shifting to cuddle close to the Warlock and leech his body heat.

He settled back down into a deeper sleep then, warmer now he'd found a heat source.

Deacon smirked as Ian curled in against him, even if it was just for his body hear it was nice to have the man desire him.

With his body being pressed against Ian's so tightly, his hand was stuck around himself.

His free arm wrapped around the man and he moved his hips, grinding against Ian and his own hand with a moan, he still felt pent up from the previous night.

Ian was still dead to the world for a long while.

It took almost twenty minutes from the time the blanket was snatched form him for him to actually wake.

When he did, it took him a moment to figure out that he wasn't in his own bed, and he wasn't alone. The night came back to him, and a breathtaking sleepy smile came to his lips.

"Morning gorgeous," he rasped, still not awake enough to open his eyes.

Deacon wiggled and ground against Ian for a good long while.

When Ian finally stirred awake Dea looked up at him, a gentle smile gracing his lips as the man gave a sleepy smile.

Ian never looked better than when he had just woken up.

The husky voice in his ear made a pleasant shiver run through him.

"Good morning." He replied. His own voice sounding breathy and panted, evidence that he had been playing on his own and was worked up.

"Mmm, get a load of that. Happy I'm finally awake?"

His hand found Dea's ribs, stroking downwards slowly, over his hip and down his thigh painfully slowly, mapping his skin with a sleepy lack of urgency.

He gave the thigh a gentle pull, resting it on his own outer thigh so Dea's legs were parted, and he had wonderful access to all he needed. Not that he used that access. His hand stayed on his thigh, beating a slow, idle pattern on his skin with the tips of his fingers.

"What's been occurring?"

"It's weird seeing you get up so late."

Even when they were dating Ian was up early and would eventually drag him out of bed with coffee once he returned from his morning run.

Deacon gave a little purr as his body was stroked, leaning into the sleepy touches.

"Nothing much..." He murmured as his leg was lifted to rest on Ian's thigh.

His arousal was slick with pre-cum though he had successfully avoiding pushing himself over the edge for fear of Ian's punishment. Ian's own stomach was damp from the Warlock's insistent grinding.

His fingers broke their pattern - a pretty recognisable rendition of She Will Be Loved - and all four fingertips came down on Dea's thigh at the same time. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Try again," was all he murmured.

He could feel the evidence that something had been occurring on his stomach. He wanted a detailed report of what Dea had done, nothing less.

That was always what he wanted when he asked what was occurring. He'd let Dea have his second chance, since they were just getting back into the swing of things.

Deacon visibly stiffened at the taps of the fingers on his thigh and the Shifter's murmured words.

Ian never did accept anything other than the exact truth.

He half burried his face in against the man's side, slightly embarrassed at being made to fess up.

"I woke up a fair while ago and pulled the blanket from your body."

His lips pursed, his stolen glances wouldn't remain secret.

"I was admiring your body and was still hard from waking up so I decided to play with myself."

His lips felt dry and he found himself running his tongue along them.

"You must have got cold and you pulled me close, pinning my hand between our bodies so I ...kinda just rocked myself between us."