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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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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.

Gasping, Freddie nearly falls forward, catching his weight on both hands, one still clean, the other now covered in his own come as Philip pounds into him, skin slapping hard against skin and cock shoved in so deep, so hard, Freddie's nearly choking on him.

"Oh my God," he breathes when he feels Philip start to come, a moan ripped from his throat as he nearly folds over Freddie's back. Drained as he is, Freddie still manages to clench around him, rolling his hips to milk Philip's cock for all that it's worth before he has to give in, muscles aching and arse unbelievably, amazingly sore. He groans into the mattress below him, a sound that melts into a low, sated sort of laugh before he turns his head to look back at Philip.

"Christ, you are the best fuck in this whole town," he says, groaning as he attempts, and fails, to move his legs, heart still pounding as the sweat on his skin begins to cool in all the places Philip isn't still touching him.

It's not as if he's aware enough to really think in that moment, but later he'll understand just how good Freddie is at what he does. How good they are together. There have been few people in Philip's life who have truly satisfied him, though he's not bothered to compare most of the time, it's only that when it does happen, it's deeply memorable. Sex is always good, he can always make it good, but there's quite the leap between good and incredible.

And this was incredible.

"Christ," he breathes when he feels like he can finally speak again. It's an effort, but he pulls back, rolls away, carefully rids himself of the condom before allowing himself to finally collapse on his back in the bed. It's warm in the room and they're both sticky with sweat, with come, but he doesn't care. He isn't moving again until morning and if Freddie wants to sleep exactly where he is, Philip doesn't mind that either. He simply grins at the compliment, passes one hand over his forehead to wipe sweat from his eyes and turns his head to face Freddie.

"Just wait," he says and that's all. A promise. Just wait.

Freddie groans, a mix of disappointment and relief as Philip pulls out of him, leaving him empty and wonderfully sore. His hole is throbbing and, as Freddie rolls onto his side to watch Philip toss the used condom into the bin, the ache is sweet enough that Freddie swears he can still feel Philip inside him. With any luck, he'll be feeling that phantom cock inside him for days.

He stretches his legs out then and tilts his hips to change the angle of his back as he props his head on his hands to grin over at Philip. Philip's covered in sweat, dark strands of his hair plastered to his forehead and the sides of his face and Freddie soaks it all in, every muscle in his body humming pleasantly.

"I'm absolutely holding you to that," he says, his own promise before he leans. It's nearly a sweet kiss when their lips meet, nearly chaste after everything else, Freddie's face nearly perpendicular to Philip's and he licks past the seam of his lips before pulling back to drop his head down onto the mattress. "Later, though. Need a rest, fucking hell."

Even without being profiled extensively by Agent Reid, Philip understands he experiences emotions in a different manner than most people. He knows the technical terms of what he's like, what they would call him if they were to get him into an institution and study him. It doesn't bother him, nor does he see anything particularly wrong with it. It's only ever been a benefit to him, from allowing him to leave home, to care for himself, to being able to make money where many others wouldn't be able to.

This applies to how he feels about others, too. He doesn't know that he's ever loved someone by the regular standards one would apply to the emotion. People have to be of some use to him for him to even like them, but he's made his connections over the years and they've all manifested in different ways. He's under no illusions, has no interest in monogamy or finding one person alone to fulfill his needs, but he looks at Freddie now, long and lean and pale, and he feels a flare of possessiveness.

Freddie's his now. At least in part. It's likely as close to affection as Philip gets most days.

"Sleep," he says. "Don't steal anything when you wake up."

Freddie lets out a snort at that, his gaze lingering on Philip's face for a moment or two. Stealing is the absolute last thing on Freddie's mind at the moment, but there's something in Philip's tone he finds amusing, something that's almost casually condescending. It calms the unwelcome coil of warmth in his belly, stops it from becoming something it has no business being as Freddie stretches out further and lets his eyes slip shut.

"Nicking your wallet for sure," he says, his tone sleepy and not in the least bit serious.

In truth, if he has his way, he'll wake up early enough to spend a few minutes with Philip's cock in his mouth before he has to leave. They've exchanged numbers, at least, and Freddie certainly has every intention of checking in here and there. He's not certain what this might be, but Philip is absolutely the best fuck he's had since his arrival here and Freddie's not keen to let that go anytime soon.

And, for now, he won't let himself think of anything else.

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