the final chapter of btwwab will be up in the next days, but because i am a kind soul--and i made you wait for + 2 months-- i've decided to post a little snippet with no big spoilers, enjoy! (it's really smutty tho)
Without taking his eyes off of a very affected Lando, Carlos started unbuttoning the first couple of buttons on his shirt.
But Lando was not having that by any means.
He knelt on the edge of the bed to stand just in front of Carlos, and with desperate eyes he gazed up at the man. “You are not going to prive me from this.”
“From what, Landito?” Carlos replied with a cheeky smile.
“From undressing you for the first time.”
Slowly, almost torturously so for Carlos, Lando started running his hands along his chest. Up and down, touching the whole area. Carlos had to swallow and it took a tremendous amount of self control not to throw a remark or even reach out back for the man. His hands were continuosly twitching next to him.
Because he wanted Lando to get it his way. He wanted Lando to have him too. Any way he wanted.
Carlos had only managed to unbutton two beforehand, but now a third one had come loose as Lando twisted his finger on the soft fabric of his shirt. From below, Lando felt Carlos’ rapid exhale land on his curls as his finger started touching skin and not fabric. The contrast of Lando’s cold finger on Carlos’ body was something that had no business being so hot.
Lando was not a religious person by any means, but he found himself yearning to create a new religion to worship Carlos’ biceps. His hipbones. His whole being.
With a little more haste than before, because even though Lando wanted to take his time, he was embarassingly close from whimpering, Carlos stood now fully undressed from the waist up.
The little rays of sunlight filtering into the room through the window were resting on Carlos’s chest, making it stand out, turning it into—a work of art. Lando couldn’t ignore how aroused he was getting in such little time.
“Me estas volviendo loco con como me miras.”
“Whilst your Spanish turns me on, I’m going to need some English from you on the first times we fuck until I am able to understand the dirty talking in your language.”
Because one thing Lando was not going to tolerate was being prived of hearing Carlos’ praise on their first time. Or ever.
Carlos looked appaled at Lando’s– boldness. Or maybe at the clear implicating that they were going to fuck.
But then Carlos’ expression changed completely.
It was—exciting. To not know how Carlos would react. Lando knew Carlos. He knew how he took his coffee, how many alarms he put up at night, how many he ignored in the morning, the difference between his morning and night yawnings in sounds, but–
When it came to sex, he knew nothing about Carlos. So, the way he was balancing between being confident in what he wanted from Lando, but also giving himself to Lando so he could explore, was a pretty addicting thing.
And they weren’t even as close yet as Lando wished. Even if Lando was literally almost face-to-face with Carlos’ tented pants.
“I said,” Carlos repeated, holding Lando’s jaw and forcing him to look up at him again. “You’re making me crazy with the way you’re looking at me.”
“How am I looking at you, Carlos?”
“Like you need to be dealt with.”
Before Lando could do as much as blink, Carlos was already kissing him again, his hand smoothly tugging at Lando’s shirt. With both of them cooperating, they managed to throw it onto the floor rapidly.
Carlos wasted no time in running his hands through Lando’s bare chest, touching him like Lando was pottery work, and Lando was trembling with the knowledge that Carlos was enjoying this as much as he was. In the position they were in right now, Lando kneeling on the edge of the bed and Carlos standing before him, Carlos’ clothed cock was dangerously brushing Lando’s thigh.
He had been a witness of Carlos’ cock before. Soft, of course, and only on two specific occassions were Lando had deemed knocking as an unimportant manner.
But this was different. Because Carlos was hard. For him.
His cock was rubbing against Lando more insistently every time Carlos leaned in closer to kiss him, and when he finally had a look at the outline of it as they separated, Lando blurted out the only thought that was etched in his mind.
“Carlos, let me suck your cock, please.”
The simple petition broke Carlos’ mind for approximately three seconds, as if he was reminiscing all of the times he had fantasized with this to happen, before he nodded twice in agreement.
Carlos didn’t even reach for his belt, didn’t even move a muscle, he just stood like a mannequin in front, looking down at Lando like his body would shut down if he ever looked somewhere else.
Lando repositioned his body, slipping out of bed and falling down to his knees on the floor, and when he found the comfortable spot, he bravely stroked Carlos over his pants.
It sent a thrill through Lando’s body.
He had never done this, had never touched a man this way. Lando was unsure if stroking over the pants was even something people did. But then, Carlos seemed to melt under his touch, breathing even deeper than before.
Carlos’ hand came to circle Lando’s wrist.
“Are you trying to make me suffer, Lando?”
Carlos chuckled. Then, he inclides his body lower, just enough for his mouth to be at level with Lando’s ear and whispered, “You can torture me however you want, but when it’s my time to have you sprawled in the bed for me, I will pay you with the same coin.”
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