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Philip manages to open the door to his flat in record time and soon enough they're on the other side of it. Anticipation rockets up Freddie's spine as he crowds in closer, his hands slipping up under Philips shirt, wasting no time at all in loosening the buckle of his belt and getting to the fastening of his trousers just beneath. He growls into the rough press of Philip's lips, licking past the seam, hungry for more already, every nerve in his body buzzing with want.

"Doesn't sound like too bad a job to me," he admits as he pulls back, panting slightly and then biting his lip as he loosens Philips pants enough to get his hand inside the fabric, fingers curling over the swell of his cock through his underpants as he steps in closer, close enough to breath against the curve of Philip's jaw. "Think I might even work hard at something like that. I've always been told I should do what I love. And I love fucking."

He gives Philip a good squeeze then, tracing the length of Philip as well as he's able before pressing his lips to Philip's jaw and breathing against him. "What d'you say, then? Think you can get it up for the Prince?"

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"Well, no one's getting paid, are they?" he asks in return, his voice hoarse as Freddie's hand strokes over his cock. In some ways he's still sensitive, but there's something so good about that, about Freddie's hand gliding over his warm and still slightly damp skin and he doesn't know if there's any lubricant left on him or if it's sweat and come left on his skin from the inside of the condom, but whatever it is, it feels good to have Freddie touching him.

The angle isn't exactly comfortable, he'd very much like to take this to somewhere with a little more room now that they're over the initial rush to just be fucking and Philip presses in again for one much longer kiss, then takes his hand and reaches past Freddie for his phone. This isn't something he's going to be so willing to give up and he presses his phone into Freddie's free hand.

"Put your number in there before we forget," he suggests, his hips rolling up once, letting his length slide through Freddie's fist. It won't be long now and he imagines by the time Freddie's number is in his phone and they've moved to the bedroom, he's going to be quite ready all over again.

"Well, I did steal half a fag off you," Freddie points before Philip's leaning in for another kiss. Freddie never once stops the movement of his hand, jerking Philip slowly from base to tip, reveling in the slow fill of that heated flesh though he gets a little distracted by the press of Philip's tongue, the press forward of his body. He breaks the kiss with a low laugh when Philip's presses Freddie's phone into his other hand.

"And here I thought you might be all talk," he says, still moving his hand slowly over Philip's cock as he thumbs his number into Philip's phone. He considers for a moment before adding in his last name as well and then taps the button to call the number he's just input, partially to prove it's not bogus, but also to ensure he'll have Philip's number as well.

He lets it ring only once before ending the call and handing the phone back to Philip with a smirk, shifting a little to get a better grip and brush his lips along the bolt of Philip's jaw. "Christ, you have a nice cock," he murmurs then, Philip's stubble tickling his lips as he gives another tight, appreciative squeeze.

When the phone is pressed back into his hand, Philip immediately discards it again, the ringing of Freddie's phone enough to assure him the number is real. It clatters to the table where he'd put out the cigarette and groans slightly at the press of Freddie's mouth against his jaw, a smirk curving his lips for a brief moment. He's been complimented plenty of time, been told all sorts of things, but he doesn't know many people who have specified his cock in this manner, and he can't deny it's rather pleasurable, knowing someone appreciates it.

"I'm never all talk," he answers, returning to the first thing Freddie has said and he knows he's referring to the phone number, but truly, Philip prides himself on following through with what he says, and while he has no idea where the rest of this night might go, he's perfectly certain it's going to go somewhere. Preferably to the bedroom. He'd like to space to properly appreciate Freddie this time.

"Come on," he urges, pressing forward for a moment and then dragging himself back, peeling himself off the couch and rising to his feet. He's hard again, his cock bobbing between his legs when he stands and he grins, glancing down at Freddie. "Come with me."

Somehow, Freddie doesn't find it difficult to believe that in the slightest and he only smirks when Philip shifts and pulls away, watching intently as Philip stands before him, cock wonderfully hard between his legs, gorgeous enough to make Freddie's mouth water. His gaze drops and lingers for a moment before Freddie pushes himself to his feet as well, crowding into Philip's space.

"Taking me somewhere fancy?" he asks though he knows full well where Philip is planning to lead him. His fingers trail down Philip's sides then, resting on his hips for a moment before one trails inward for another teasing graze over his cock.

Before Philip can return the touch, or answer, Freddie turns to head down the corridor. It's not a terribly big flat with only a few doors to choose from and Freddie glances back over his shoulder as he goes, his expression an inviting smirk as he let his hips sway just the littlest bit.

That's one hell of a sight and Philip grins, the expression damn near predatory, then follows Freddie down the hall. It's really only the bathroom and the bedroom to choose from, both doors open, easy enough for Freddie to see where he's going, and Philip follows him readily, catching up and then pressing close, his hips fitting against the curve of Freddie's ass. His arm slips around, his palm warm against Freddie's stomach and then gliding lower, over the edge of his hip and down, his fingers pressing through coarse hair and toward his cock, but he stops short of wrapping his fingers around him.

"Fancy enough?" he asks, his voice low with amusement. His bedroom is actually relatively nice, he's gone to some lengths to make it better than it had been when he'd arrived, but he also hasn't gone overboard. He's replaced some of the furniture, bought a nicer dresser, better bedding. Nothing is over the top, nothing is extravagant, but it's nicer than it was.

"Not that it matters," he adds, pressing his mouth to the curve of Freddie's shoulder, his teeth grazing across his skin. "I doubt you're here to admire the wardrobe."

It's a nicer bedroom than Freddie's, that's immediately apparent even in the dimness of the room. It looks more like that of a man who knows what money is and how to both earn and spend it instead of that belonging to someone who still doesn't trust where much of his money's coming from. The dresser is made of a thicker, nicer wood, the bedding as though actual thought was put into its purchase as opposed to merely being the cheapest set available at the nearest department store.

He isn't given much time to admire however when he feels the press of Philip's warm body against him and he immediately relaxes back into it, breath catching as one arm wraps around him, fingers dancing low enough to tease just at the root of Freddie's cock.

"Might be," he says with a slow grin though he's already tipping his head to offer Philip better access to his neck. He reaches back with one hand, fingers carding through Philip's hair as he rocks his hips back. He grazes the fingers of his other hand along Philip's forearm, tracing a line down to his wrist and the back of his hand, guiding him just that little bit lower with a soft hiss. "Not about to get on my knees in admiration of your furniture though," he admits with a soft laugh.

With Freddie guiding him, Philip wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, teasing with a light touch for a moment before his grip tightens and he twists his hand slowly. His teeth cut into Freddie's skin for just a moment, biting down hard enough to potentially leave a mark behind, not caring in the slightest if he does.

Philip isn't possessive, he's happy enough to share, he doesn't care the slightest if most of the people he's fucking are also fucking others, but he does like to remind those others someone else has been there, too. He'd delighted leaving marks behind on Coop and Fiona both. Marking them. Making them his, just a little.

And now Freddie. His hand strokes slowly, moving over Freddie's cock from root to tip where he pauses and smooths his thumb over the head and sucks at his skin for another moment. Saying nothing. Nudging him toward the bed with his hips. His. Just a little.

Philip's hand curls around him, teasing at first and then gripping tight, stroking with a twist of his wrist that has Freddie's hips rocking forward. It's paired with the press of Philip's teeth to the side of his neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark, and Freddie lets out a low, pleased laugh as he welcomes it, his fingers curling tighter in Philip's hair, encouraging.

He's nudged forward then, a rock of Philip's hips against him, that delicious cock nudging the crease of Freddie's arse and he laughs again as he steps forward, peeling his hands from Philip's hair. He's reluctant to pull from the heat of Philip's mouth, but relishes the sting as he does, bending forward to reach for the mattress as he lifts one knee onto the edge of the bed and looks back over his shoulder.

"Or maybe I will," he says an amendment to his previous statement, letting his back dip slightly, hips tilted up as he gives Philip a smirk. Granted, it's far more in admiration of Philip's cock and what more it might do than Philip's bed, but Freddie's still very nearly on his knees all the same. It counts.

"Jesus Christ," he murmurs, following Freddie toward the bed, his hands roaming over his hips, staring down at him now that his hips are tilted like that, practically an invitation for Philip to do whatever the hell he wants. Whatever has gotten Freddie here and into this position, he doesn't care, all he knows is what he wants and he crowds forward, closer to him, then ducks his head to press his mouth to the small of Freddie's back, breathing hot against his skin. Both his hands slide down, fingers gripping Freddie's ass, pressing into muscle, spreading his cheeks as his tongue slides out and he's not quite at Freddie's ass yet, but he's terribly close.

He pushes again, not particularly hard, but he wants Freddie on the bed with his ass in the air. He wants to follow him, he wants to get on his knees between his legs and spend as much time as Freddie will give him with his ass. There's no question of him getting hard again, not now, and he reaches down absently with one hand, squeezing his cock before he returns the hand to Freddie's ass and gives another push.

"Get on the bed," he murmurs, his voice low. "All the way."

There's nothing so intensely satisfying as turning someone else on, Freddie's found, and the sound of Philip's low exhale of appreciation burns inside him, nearly as fulfilling as those warm hands smoothing over his skin to curl around his hips. His eyelids flutter closed when he feels Philip press in closer and fold over him, wet lips pressing to the small of his back followed quickly by a slick, slow tongue.

He shudders slightly, breath punched from his lungs and cock hanging full and heavy between his legs. There's intent in Philip's tone, promise, and Freddie wastes no time in crawling forward as asked, stretching out atop the length of the mattress and lowering himself to his elbows as he looks back over his shoulder again. He keeps his legs carefully spread a bit and his hips raised, well aware of how he'll look from Philip's angle, hoping it'll be just as enticing as he's hoping.

"Gonna have a wank in me?" he asks with a grin, well aware that's likely not exactly what Philip has planned though Freddie can't say he'd be disappointed all the same.

Given the time he's from, Philip can say for certain he's never once encountered someone quite so willing to simply spread themselves out in such a manner just to be looked at. To be touched. In Dublin and in London, any encounters Philip had with men were hurried and rushed, frantic exchanges in bathroom stalls, never in someone's flat lest the neighbours discover they were living next to someone temperamental. It's so different here and even with everything he's done since arriving, he doesn't think there's been anyone quite like Freddie. So willing, so effortlessly alluring.

Crawling onto the mattress as well, Philip runs his hands up the back of Freddie's thighs until he reaches his ass again and he kneads his muscles, then gives a quick flash of his grin when Freddie speaks and looks back over his shoulder. "Think we can do a little better than that, don't you?" he asks just before he ducks his head, his tongue tracing the rim of Freddie's ass without a bit of preamble. He can taste the lube, taste the sweat drying on Freddie's skin and he groans against his skin, pressing his tongue deeper inside of him for more.

It's obvious Philip has no desire to just stare or even tease, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as Philip crawls on along with him, kneeling between Freddie's spread legs and smoothing those hands up his thighs and over the swell of his arse. Instinctively, Freddie raises his hips, pressing into the touch with a grin that just as swiftly falls from his face when Philip wastes no time in pressing his mouth to Freddie's hole.

There's nothing remotely tentative about it, the press of Philip's tongue broad and sure, quickly followed by warm breath and Philip's heated groan.

"Fuck," Freddie groans himself, some of his pretense slipping as he grips the sheets beneath him and ducks his face away with a rough, surprised laugh. He bites his lip then and rocks his hips back, aching for more already as his cock throbs between his thighs, aching in the very best way. "Fuck, I should've known," he says on another laugh, turning his head just enough to look back over his shoulder, to see the top of Philip's head behind his arse, those dark curls and dark eyes and, if he squints, he can nearly... nearly pretend he's someone else entirely.

But Freddie doesn't want to pretend. He doesn't. This is Philip, not-- not anyone else.

Philip groans, loving the way Freddie rocks his hips back, eager for his tongue. Enthusiasm counts for so much and while he's fucked people who are generally passive and enjoyed himself well enough, he's not enjoyed it nearly half as much as this. As someone who rolls and shifts and moans, someone who wants his mouth and has no qualms making that well known. It certainly doesn't hurt that Freddie is as attractive as he is.

Right now he wants nothing more than to make him beg and for what, he truly has no idea. Philip is lost in a haze of lust and want and he doesn't care what happens next, he doesn't care if he's fucking Freddie or if Freddie fucks him, he doesn't care of it's hands or mouths and anything, all he wants is this.

His tongue presses into Freddie again, groaning as he circles the tight ring of muscle, his mouth pressed as tight as he can manage against him. His cock aches, but he doesn't let go of Freddie's ass to touch himself. Not yet.

Freddie can feel the vibration as well as heated breath against his skin when Philip groans and can't help but cant his hips back for more, silently begging for that tongue deeper inside him, those lips sealed to his hole. It's clear he's getting his message across as Philip responds immediately, licking in deep, tongue catching on the rim and Freddie fists his hands in the sheets purely to hold back from touching himself. The tip of his cock drags against the fabric with every roll of his hips, every muscle in his body clenched tight as he muffles another loud moan of pleasure into the mattress.

A moment later, he turns his head to gasp for breath, practically vibrating out of his skin. "Jesus Christ, I need you to fuck me again," he breathes, not giving a shit how needy he sounds. "I need--"

With another rough groan, he reaches down then, grabbing himself by the base of his cock and squeezing tight, desperate to keep himself from coming already. He shouldn't be so close so soon when Philip's already made him come his brains out, but there's no denying that's exactly where he is. "Fuck, I need your cock, Philip."

"Fuck," he breathes out hard, barely pulling away from Freddie to speak, the word muffled against his ass. It's not impossible to make Philip lose control, especially when it comes to sex, but he thinks Freddie might have accomplished it faster than just about anyone. He doesn't know him well enough yet to know if the same will be said for Freddie's personality, but he has a good feeling about it, especially if this night is anything to go by.

Philip is hard, achingly so, and all he wants is exactly what Freddie has asked for. All he wants is that tight heat, all he wants is to be pounding into him, and his hands slide down to Freddie's hips, his grip tightening, pulling him back against his mouth so he can fuck him harder with his tongue just another moment. When he pulls back he can see Freddie's cock between his legs and he shifts forward, managing to get just enough room to run his tongue along everything he can reach before he moving again, stretching out over Freddie to reach for the bedside table.

"How badly do you want me?" he asks, his voice low, his cock pressing against Freddie's back as he looks for a condom. "Tell me."

It's obvious Philip's getting nearly as much out of this as he is, that groan hot against his skin, vibrating up his spine as Philip presses his mouth to Freddie's hole again, presses his tongue in deep, slick and hot and still not nearly enough. The ache is overwhelming now, that desire to be filled, to be fucked, and Freddie pants for breath as Philip pulls back to lick lower still, down the sensitive skin of Freddie's taint to the swell of his balls and back.

"Christ, so bad," he murmurs, not giving one single shit how desperate he sounds, his hand still wrapped tight around himself as he glances back to see Philip looking for a condom. "Can't remember the last time someone's fucked me so good."

It might sound like a line and it's exactly the sort of thing Freddie might otherwise say just to get someone going, but in this case it's true. He rocks his hips back again, his back still bowed as he looks back over his shoulder. "Just want to sit on your cock for ages, make you come inside me until you're drained fucking dry."

"Jesus Christ," he groans again and he's rocking his hips forward as well, his dick sliding over the skin of Freddie's back and he knows he could get off just like this, rutting against him. Finally, though, his fingers close around the drawer and he wrenches it open, the entire thing nearly clattering to the floor, though it stops at the last second just before it falls. He thrusts his hand inside, grabs a condom, and he's ripping the package open even before he's back on his knees between Freddie's thighs.

Once he's there, though, once he's kneeling back on the mattress, his cock achingly hard between his legs, he allows himself a moment to just look. It's quite a sight, Freddie on the bed beneath him, his back arched, his hips lifted, his hand squeezing his cock. It's like being presented with a gift and Philip moans again, a helpless sort of sound as he throws the package away and then rolls the condom down, wasting no time at all.

Moving forward, he grabs Freddie's hips in his hand and then rolls his own hips toward him, his cock sliding along the crack of his ass. It's still nothing more than a tease, not when they both want this so badly, but he can't help himself. Everything has been building since they'd been sitting on the couch in the living room and he can't help but take a few moments more.

Philip's cock is a hot, hard line against Freddie's back as Philip grinds forward. And next time, he thinks, next time Philip can just fuck against him, on Freddie's back and belly, they can grind on each other like teenagers until they make a mess of each other.

And there will absolutely be a next time, of that much Freddie's now certain.

He gets a bit of reprieve to breathe when Philip leans to reach for the bedside drawer, yanking it open with a clatter and pulling out a condom. Laughing a bit, Freddie pushes back to his elbows, his back bowed and hips still high in the air, on display as Philip rips into the package and slips the rubber on over himself. Freddie still has a hand on himself and indulges a bit in stroking himself from base to tip as Philip shuffles forward, sliding his cock down crease of Freddie's arse, teasing now.

With a low growl, Freddie presses back, muscles clenching with a growing want. "Fuck, but it in me," he says, letting go of himself then to reach back, curling his own fingers over Philip's to guide him directly to Freddie's hole as he presses back, feeling that blunt tip right exactly where he wants it most. Where he needs it. "Fuck. Ah fuck, yeah. Yeah, just like that."

Another day, another moment and Philip might have laughed. Might have accused Freddie of being too needy, might have slapped his ass once, just hard enough to make it sting. All within the confines of still fucking him, of course, all with the intention of still getting exactly where they both want to, but today, right now, he doesn't have the patience for it either. Freddie might be needy, but so is he, and he can't remember the last time his cock felt this hard.

It makes want throb through him when Freddie reaches back to guide him, making it very clear what he's here for, and Philip, desperate himself at this point, allows it to happen. His hips roll and with Freddie's help, his cock presses into his ass again, easier this time, his skin slick with sweat and Philip's saliva, stretched and open from earlier, from not even that long ago when Philip was fucking into him.

"Fuck, I love the way you talk," he groans and he keeps his hands on Freddie's hips, pulling him back, not bothering to take his time. His dick slides deeper and his head falls forward as another moan builds and then escapes him.

Freddie drops his hand back to grab at the sheets below him once the flared head of Philip's cock slides past that initial ring of insistence. "Fuck," he breathes again, the sound melting into a breathy, overwhelmed laugh as Philip sinks in deep, filling him up in just exactly the way Freddie needs it. He keeps himself still for a moment, muscles clenched around Philip's thick length before he rocks back just a bit, grinds back with a roll of his hips.

"I'll say whatever the fuck you want as long as you keep fucking me," he promises, lowering his upper body slightly to get a better angle as he fucks back. Every slide of Philip's cock then hits him in just exactly the right spot and he lets out another moan, heedless of any neighbors Philip might have. It feels too fucking good to keep quiet.

"Christ, don't stop," he murmurs then, already positive Philip won't, that he wants this as badly as Freddie does. Panting harshly, Freddie reaches down between himself and the mattress to grab his cock, squeezing tight and then trying to jerk himself in rhythm with Philip's thrusting. "Yeah-- right there. Right fucking there. Oh my God, your cock is fantastic. Holy fuck."

"Tell me all the things you want me to do to you," Philip manages to grind out, the words panted and breathless. There's sweat dripping between his shoulder blades, rolling down the middle of his back, beading at his hairline and in the heat of the room, of the night, of everything they've done, his hair has curled, ridding him of some of that pulled together look he usually carries.

He has no idea if Freddie is going to be able to form words right now, but in truth he won't be all that surprised if he manages it. Thus far Freddie has surprised him more than once and Philip loves to be surprised, so long as that surprise doesn't end in his death or something equally unappealing. People who can do something unexpected, though, people who don't follow the same narrow and boring path as most, those are the ones he wants.

His hand slides off Freddie's hip, up his back, over his shoulder and then into his hair. His fingers form a fist, twisting in those pale blond strands and he doesn't pull hard, but there's a bite in the way he suddenly tightens his grip. When it's asked for, when someone likes it, Philip is more than happy to hurt them, knowing full well pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin and they often cross over onto one another. He's never cared much for being hurt himself, but doling it out, causing pain, it makes his pleasure spike and even just this, his hand in Freddie's hair, it causes the heat in his groin to flare as he fucks him harder.

"Shit," Freddie breathes, arching as Philip slides a hand up his back and over his shoulder, those hips still snapping forward, fucking in deep with a slap of skin on skin. It's easily the best fuck he's had since he got here, maybe even since months before that.

The best he's had since--

He lets out another strangled moan as Philip's fingers curl into the strands of his hair and tug, pulling his head back. White-hot pleasure sears down his spine and he shoves back against Philip, taking him deeper. It isn't often Freddie lets someone hurt him, even in the heat of the moment. He doesn't trust anyone enough to let it happen. But Philip's proven he knows what he's doing and, right now, Freddie isn't certain there's a single thing he'd ever deny him.

"I want-- God, I want you to bend me over every fucking surface," he starts, still rocking back, muscles aching already. "Fuck me against every wall. Want to eat your arse," he admits on a pleasure-filled laugh that quickly melts into a moan. "Want to make you come down my throat."

This isn't just a picture painted for the sake of Philip's pleasure, these are things he's going to remember, moments he's intent on having. He can see it, Freddie shoved over the edge of the counter in his kitchen, fucked up against the wall in the shower, back pressed to the apartment door, his legs around Philip's waist. He's going to make every last bit of that happen eventually, but for now, for this moment, this is more than enough. There's already pleasure ripping through him, spiking at every word Freddie says.

He can feel Freddie's arm moving, stroking his cock, he can feel the way his body moves and responds, muscles tightening around his dick and he knows this isn't going to last forever, not with the way they've built one another up all evening, and Philip's head falls forward as his hips snap and he can hear the sound of skin against skin, loud in the otherwise empty apartment. Whatever his neighbours can or can't hear, he doesn't give a fuck.

"I'll hold you... to all that," he groans, gasping between words. The hand he has on Freddie's hip slides down, hooking around his waist, pulling him up and off the bed. With Freddie's body flush against his, it changes the angle and his hips roll up now as he reaches down, sliding his hand over Freddie's helping him stroke himself.

Edited 2016-09-26 03:03 (UTC)

There isn't a bit of Freddie that's uncertain of that. Not now. Not when Philip is buried balls deep inside him, not when he'd been so insistent on getting Freddie's number and getting him in his bed. It might all go to shit in a week or two, Philip could very well bored of him or find a nice woman with perfect hand a perfect smile to run off and marry and make babies with, but right now, right here, he's Freddie's. And every word is a promise.

Philip shifts against him, one large hand hooking around Freddie's hip to pull him up, legs spread wide with Philip fucking in harder, rolling in deep enough that his cock hits just that perfect angle every time. Gasping, Freddie clutches at the sheets beneath him with one hand, the other tangling with Philip's fingers when Philip reaches down, both of them working in tandem over Freddie's cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. It's all he can do to keep moving his hips back for more, all he can do to remember to even keep breathing as Philip fucks into him.

"Fuck," he groans, turning his head against the mattress to hide his face as the wave crests. "Fuck, fuck-- oh fuck-- Philip."

It crashes over him, body clenching tight around the length inside him as his cock pulses and spills over Philip's fingers as well as his own, making a mess of the sheets beneath him. He tries to keep moving, tries to keep encouraging Philip to fuck into him, to use him, to let go inside him as that hand works over him, pumping him dry with every delicious stroke.

This is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, one of the best fucks he's ever had. It isn't just that Freddie is enthusiastic and knows what he's doing, but that they move so well together, their bodies arching and shifting, neither of them feeling the need to second guess or wonder. There are plenty of people who know what they're doing and tend to be awful at the end of it, simply because the connection, whatever one wants to call it, isn't there. And Philip isn't the type to get hung up on one person, he isn't interested in monogamy or being devoted to someone, but he understands connection when it happens and knows he'd be a fool to deny such things exist.

He also just knows they can exist with multiple people at the same time.

This, though, is amazing, and he isn't thinking about anyone else in the moment. He's only thinking about Freddie, the way it feels when he comes again, his cock pulsing in Philip's hands, the sudden slick of his come all over his fingers, the spasming of his muscles and the way it feels as if his body is somehow drawing Philip deeper, dragging him inside, and he goes without question. There's nothing sweet about this, his hips are all but pounding forward, his grip on Freddie's hip hard and tight, and when he comes it's sudden and violent, ripped through him, spilling out of him with a strangled sort of moan and a force that nearly sends him collapsing onto Freddie's back.