Work Text:
Stefano turns to close the bedroom door behind him, a little perplexed that Sebastian’s familiar shape isn’t in their bed. He doesn’t even have time to turn back around before Sebastian’s hands are on his shoulders and Sebastian’s bulk is pressing him up against the door.
He draws in his breath to say something, but Sebastian’s voice is in his ear.
“You finally made it up here,” he growls, the low rumble causing Stefano’s stomach to lurch with pleasurable anticipation.
Sebastian presses harder, thoroughly pinning Stefano between him and the door, and Stefano’s heart is already racing.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
His hands move to Stefano’s waist, giving him a squeeze, as his mouth finds Stefano’s neck.
“Wanting you.”
Stefano shivers at the tickle of Sebastian’s facial hair brushing his skin.
“Needing you.”
He thrusts his hips against Stefano’s ass as he bites down on Stefano’s neck, and the firmer stimulation, the rush of adrenaline that comes from the pain of Sebastian’s teeth, the thought of Sebastian fucking him all hit Stefano at once. There is a kind of choked, gasping sob that Stefano realizes with some embarrassment comes out of his own mouth, but he’s already getting hard, already dizzy with the anticipation of what Sebastian might do next, and his own hands are pressed flat against the door, bracing himself for whatever is coming.
Sebastian pauses, and Stefano realizes he is probably waiting for some kind of permission, because Sebastian is always so careful and considerate, but that’s not the Sebastian that Stefano needs right now. He’s been in the thrall of his art for the last four hours, pushed and pulled and shaped by a vision even he doesn’t fully understand, and now he needs to be grounded, needs the pure, simple intensity of Sebastian’s lust, needs to be pushed and pulled and stretched by Sebastian.
He can feel the way his body is shaking, the way his voice is shaking as he replies, “Take me.”
Sebastian’s reaction is immediate, and Stefano gasps as Sebastian’s knee is pressed between his legs, lifting up just enough to put pressure on his cock and balls, enough that he is standing on his tiptoes. Sebastian’s hand forces its way between him and the door to paw roughly at his cock as Sebastian’s mouth ravages his neck. He moans in pleasure at the feeling of Sebastian’s lips and tongue and teeth on him until Sebastian reaches the collar of his shirt and lets out a huff of frustration.
Stefano starts to move his hands to unbutton his shirt, but Sebastian’s voice stops him. “No,” he growls. “Keep your hands where they are.” Stefano can only nod and place his hands on the door again. His heart is racing, his cock is aching, and he doesn’t trust his voice right now.
Sebastian gives him a little push against the door for emphasis, and Stefano makes a sound that is almost a squeak. He hasn’t seen this side of Sebastian before, and he doesn’t know what brought it to the surface, but this gruff, forceful Sebastian already has him weak in the knees, so maybe it’s a good thing that Sebastian’s leg is helping to support him.
With obvious effort, Sebastian tears his hands away from Stefano’s body and leans back a little to make enough space between Stefano and the door that he can unbutton his shirt. His fingers work quickly, and when he’s finished with the buttons he pulls the shirt open, letting it hang on Stefano’s shoulders. Stefano makes no move to help in removing it further, as Sebastian has made it clear that he is supposed to hold his position.
Then Sebastian’s mouth is back on his neck, worrying the skin with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, and the feeling is so delicious that Stefano squirms, which of course rubs his sensitive areas against Sebastian’s leg. “God, Sebastian,” he moans, and Sebastian grabs his hips and grinds their bodies harder together.
“Fuck,” groans Sebastian, his mouth right against Stefano’s ear, “Fuck. You kept me waiting so long tonight.” His breaths are harsh and ragged, his chest heaving against Stefano’s back. “I can’t wait anymore.”
“Then don’t wait,” Stefano murmurs. His fingers curl against his palms to make fists, but he manages to keep his hands on the door. He is more than ready for Sebastian. He was ready the second he walked into the bedroom, and he isn’t sure he can wait any longer himself.
Sebastian’s hands move around in front of him, work the fastenings of his trousers until Sebastian is tugging them and his underwear down. He moves his knee out of the way, and Stefano staggers for a moment, dizzy with excitement and lust, but Sebastian is there, wrapping an arm around his chest to support him even as his other hand pushes his trousers down to the floor.
“Don’t move.” Sebastian’s voice is still harsh, and Stefano’s cock jumps in response, even as Sebastian steps away from him. He obeys, resting his forehead against the door and holding perfectly still. He hears the sounds of Sebastian adjusting his own clothing, the click of the lube being opened, and then a delicious, slippery sound that makes him shiver with excitement.
He jumps when Sebastian’s hand touches his hip, guides him back a half step, and he knows his ass must be on display for Sebastian now. Then Sebastian’s mouth is on his shoulder, and the slick, blunt head of Sebastian’s cock is teasing his opening. He sighs, relaxing his muscles and pressing back against this part of Sebastian that is threatening to breach him, but Sebastian doesn’t give him that satisfaction yet. He rubs up and down, pressing forward so that Stefano holds his breath in anticipation but then pulling back just far enough that Stefano sighs in frustration.
“Stefano…” Sebastian’s voice is almost breaking as he finally pushes forward, and Stefano is groaning right along with him, because Sebastian is big, is stretching him open so beautifully that the feeling is right on the edge of pain, but he needs this, needs to feel the unyielding slide of Sebastian’s cock into him, needs to feel how his body adjusts to accommodate Sebastian. They fit perfectly together, as they always have.
He’s breathing harder now, leaning heavily on the door for support, and Sebastian just keeps going, longer and thicker and taking him deeper than Stefano thought was even possible. When Sebastian’s body is pressed flush to Stefano’s back and his cock is buried to the hilt, he pauses, wrapping his arms around Stefano’s chest.
Stefano can tell he’s about to ruin the illusion by asking Stefano if he’s okay, so Stefano pushes back against him and whispers, “Please, Sebastian.”
“Fuck,” Sebastian moans, pressing a kiss to his ear before he takes him by the hips and begins to thrust. The first couple movements are a little awkward, because Stefano bumps his forehead on the door, and Sebastian starts to apologize, but Stefano shakes his head, crosses his forearms in front of him, and rests his head on them, which allows them to continue relatively uninterrupted, and soon Sebastian is thrusting steadily in and out.
It’s all very pleasant, but it’s also so typical of Sebastian, measured and controlled, and Stefano wants to feel him coming undone, wants Sebastian to fuck him with abandon, with the wild, reckless energy he feels when he is creating art. So he clenches his muscles tightly around Sebastian’s cock, and Sebastian’s hips jerk, driving his cock in deep.
“God damn it, Stefano,” Sebastian growls against the back of his neck. His next thrust is rough, and the one after that is rougher, and Stefano can feel his control slipping away as he pounds into him. Sebastian’s fingers are digging into his hips in a way that is surely going to leave bruises, and Sebastian’s cock is slamming into him with enough force to knock the wind out of him on every thrust. Sebastian’s mouth is on the back of his neck and his shoulders, and this is exactly what he needs, to be swept away by Sebastian’s carnal desires.
Then Sebastian adjusts his angle slightly, and his cock is hitting Stefano just right, setting off little tingles of pleasure inside him, and each one builds on the last, makes him cry out and push back against Sebastian. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, bobbing with each thrust of Sebastian’s hips and leaking precum onto the floor, until Sebastian takes him in hand, smearing the precum along his length as his talented fingers wrap around and squeeze just enough that he struggles against Sebastian. He wants to press forward into Sebastian’s hand and back onto his cock, but Sebastian’s other hand is firmly holding his hip, and he can’t make any progress in either direction, can only submit and let Sebastian pleasure him at the pace he wishes.
Sebastian must know exactly how much Stefano wants him to move things along, because the rhythm of his hand and his hips is just too deliberate. He takes his time, panting with exertion himself, so that Stefano is squirming against him, desperate for more friction, for more of anything, but he always backs off at the critical moment. The tension and the pleasure and the need keep building, and Stefano grits his teeth. He is too proud to beg at the moment, but that could change if Sebastian keeps this up.
Just when Stefano is at the point of actually crying with frustration, everything comes together, and Sebastian is taking him hard and fast and deep, rubbing up against that sensitive place inside him on each thrust. Sebastian’s hand keeps time with his hips, and the speed and the pressure and the little twists of his wrist are just perfect. It only takes a few more thrusts, a few more strokes before a wave of pleasure is crashing over him, and he is coming, squeezing down on Sebastian and gasping his name, his release pouring out of him and over Sebastian’s hand.
He is limp, boneless in Sebastian’s arms, and Sebastian supports him with one arm wrapped around his chest and the other hand on his hip as he gives a few more thrusts and then goes rigid against him.
“Stefano,” he breathes, pressing his lips to the back of Stefano’s neck one more time.
Stefano is so weak and tired and blissed out that he is only vaguely aware of Sebastian helping him into bed and then a few minutes later when Sebastian comes to bed himself. He is immediately enveloped in Sebastian’s arms, and he rests his head on Sebastian’s chest as Sebastian runs a hand up and down his back.
“I think I got a little carried away,” Sebastian says softly. “I… was that too much?”
“No,” Stefano says with a yawn. Then, deciding to communicate this in Sebastian’s language, he adds, “That was fucking fantastic.”
Sebastian laughs and holds him closer. “Well, that’s what happens when you ignore me all night to work on your art.”
Stefano smiles against his chest. If this is Sebastian’s idea of a punishment, he can easily have the best of both worlds.