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Moving into an apartment together with your boyfriend was quite possibly the best decision you had ever made. It was just so fun, living with Bolin. You could wake up curled next to each other, Pabu pawing over Bolin’s face, chittering for his morning meal. You two could cook together, and do the dishes, and even that tedious task was manageable, when you had someone to do it with. When you came home from a long day at work, he was waiting, or you could expect him home soon, and you could talk to each other about everything under the sun. It was so sweet, and you couldn’t ask for anything more.
And, living together came with other perks.
Your back slammed against the wall of the hallway. What had been a heated makeout session in the living room had turned into something more, and with half your clothes gone, you didn’t know if you and Bolin would even make it to the bedroom.
“Bo, fuck-“ you tugged at his thick hair, gasping against his lips as he kissed you like you were water and he had been in the desert for days. You had been dating for well over a year at this point, and both of you should have been well past the honeymoon phase, but sharing your own space had brought something out in both of you. If you weren’t sharing sweet kisses and laughing at radio dramas, Bolin was shooting you hungry looks that you had never seen from him before.
He had always been gentle, and sweet, and so loving. But ever since you slammed him against the door to your apartment, kissing him so hard it could bruise after he brought the last of the furniture up, something had shifted. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and with an extensive knowledge of each other’s bodies and limits, combined with no roommates to be quiet for – you couldn’t help yourselves.
Bolin ground his hips against yours, drawing your attention back to the present as he kissed down your neck, a mix of suckling marks and gentle nips that had you gasping, nails raking against his naked shoulders.
“Bed?” he asked, kissing down to your exposed chest. You shook your head, keening as Bolin laved over a nipple, your hips thrusting against him, a low whimper escaping your lips.
“No, here,” you gasped out.
You had joked with him over dinner the other night that you two had fucked in practically every room of the house, and he had chuckled at it. You both had rattled them off over fire noodles.
Against the front door, that was first. You had slammed Bolin’s hips against it and he had gasped, the last box of trinkets discarded on the ground. You actually popped the button on his pants with how desperate you were to get him in your mouth, and when you did, Bolin had threaded his fingers through your hair, his hips pinned firm to the wall as you took him, and he screamed your name as he came down your throat.
The bedroom was next, of course. It was normal enough – you were under him, and he was loving you down like he always did, slow and sweet and perfect, when something clicked for him.
“Wait. We can be as loud as we want, can’t we?” he had whispered against your skin, and you had groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips, drawing him further inside you.
“Yeah, I guess so,” you had replied, not fully understanding his implication.
“Can I try something?” he had asked then, looking at you with a nervous smile, his green eyes shining with so much love for you that your heart might burst. “If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll – I’ll stop right away!”
He leaned back to gesture, swinging his hands across his chest, but you could hardly pay attention to him, with how the change in position pressed against you just right, the surge of pleasure distracting you.
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. You trusted him more than anything, and if there was something he wanted to try, you were all for it.
You smiled up at him, and he leaned over to press a small peck to your lips. It was gentle, and sweet, but as soon as his lips left yours, he pulled out – and he slammed into you, hard, and fast. You screamed, half in shock, and half in pleasure as he filled you, grabbing at Bolin.
“Y/n! Are you-“
“Spirits, don’t stop,” you whined, wiggling against him. “Spirits, Bo-!”
His name turned into a keen as he listened to you, thrusting into you hard, and fast – so rough that you saw stars, that the bed rocked and groaned in time with you. It was nothing like any other time Bolin had fucked you – he thrust into you like he was starved for it, and the noises that fell out of his mouth were sinful, his shoulders flexing as he braced his arms on either side of your head.
You touched yourself in time with his thrusts, and when you came, you pulled so taunt you never thought you could come back down.
The bathroom was next. You had most definitely decided to shower with Bolin to help with the water bill, and not because he looked mesmerizing with water dripping down his back, the droplets sliding over his shoulders, dipping into that sweet space between his shoulder blades, where you could kiss them away, wrapping your arms around him.
He had laughed, asking you if you really wanted to get clean.
“But we’ve never had the chance to, before,” you had goaded him, your hands trailing down his chest, the planes of his abs, the slope of his stomach, tracing his hipbones with your fingers as he gasped.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to be clean and dirty at the same time?” you teased, trailing a single finger along the underside of his dick. His breath had caught, his weight shifting so he leaned against you. You smiled as you kissed his neck, wrapping one hand around his hard cock, firm and full in your hand, while the other squeezed his ass, tracing a finger along the crease there.
He had gasped, and when you pressed a single finger into him, he had shivered against you, thrust into your hand. You had him like that, pressed together under the warm water, massaging the spot inside of him that made him see stars until he all but sobbed at the twin points of pleasure that were your hands.
Then the kitchen, where he had hiked you onto the counter, and you had broken a jar of sugar in his haste to accommodate you, both gasping against each other’s mouths as he fucked into you hard and shallow, leaving marks all along your chest, your neck, that your coworkers had eyed you for the next day.
And then the living room, where he had worshipped you with his fingers and his mouth, his fingers curling inside you harsh and desperate, as if he demanded another orgasm from you, despite the fact that your voice was hoarse and your legs were shaking from the three orgasms he had already pulled from you, each one leaving you breathless.
The hallway was the last frontier for the two of you, and as his eyes met yours, you saw just how blown his pupils were, how much he needed you.
He kissed over your stomach, his fingers already working at your underwear. You wiggled, trying to help him ease you out of them, and he fell to his knees.
“Bo,” you gasped, as the clothing fell to the floor, and his lips only drew lower, biting along your hip, his fingers already sliding between your thighs to spread your legs. Something about that, about him parting your thighs, so he could have access to you, made you weak in the knees, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging harsh.
“Want you like this,” he mumbled, nosing at the junction of your thigh and groan, and you made a pathetic, desperate noise. “Like you had me.”
Your thoughts flashed back to that first day, when you had pressed him against the door and taken him into your mouth, and you moaned, your hips moving of their own accord, and he kissed against you there roughly, wrapping his arms around your legs.
Before you could even comprehend it, he was hooking your thighs over his shoulders, sliding you up the wall as he nuzzled against your heat, licking a long stripe against you as he held you up. You gasped as he held your whole weight on his shoulders, and he smothered himself in you, licking into you deep and desperate. You moaned so loud, your heels digging into his back as you arched, pressing him even closer, his nose rubbing against you just right, so perfect that you couldn’t even believe it.
His thumbs dug into your thighs, and he sucked at you, long and full, punctuated by a flick of his tongue that made you writhe on his shoulders.
“Bo please, please-“ you begged. It was all too much, too hot, and you ached with need for him.
He listened, sucking you harsh, rocking into you, his tongue never leaving the center of your need as you tugged at his hair, earning a low, rumbling moan from him as he pleased you, never letting up. You arched, your nails scraping against his scalp as your orgasm crashed over you, the pleasure leaving you gasping, pulsing against him as he licked you through it, moaning at the feeling of your release.
Your hands and thighs shook when he finally set you down, pulling back to lick his lips and smile at you.
“I think that counts as the whole apartment, now,” you gasped, still shaky on your feet. Bolin raised an eyebrow, then your words caught up to him, and he laughs, nuzzling against your stomach, still on his knees. You pressed his cheek to your skin, once again reminded of just how much you loved living with him.