“What the hell are you doing?” he growls at Elizaveta through clenched teeth. His voice catches as Elizaveta’s touch becomes less a brush of his sensitive skin and more a stroke. She laughs, stroking her thumb down his flesh, amused by the way its hardening under her light touches. Gilbert bites back a moan, because damn does that feel good, even if he’s pretty damn sure this is a dream, and he’s imagining it, because there’s no possible way Elizaveta would ever touch him this way, or invade his house, or knock him out (because now he’s pretty sure that’s what happened), tie him down and (as it appears she intends to, from the devious glint in her eye) fuck him senseless. And even on the off chance she did do all of the above, there was no possible way Roderich would sit by and watch and (if the blush spreading across the Austrian’s pale face, and the way he’s shifting uncomfortably against the wall is any indication) enjoy it.
“Roderich dear,” Elizaveta says, her voice a cheerful hum that belays the utter mischief in her eyes, “would you like to join us?”
This is definitely not happening; Gilbert thinks when Roderich silently pushes himself off the wall and approaches. He sits down on the other side of the bed, dipping the mattress the other direction and causing Gilbert to shift under Elizaveta’s continuing (and by this point far, far to soft) touches. Gilbert grits his teeth and groans in frustration. Elizaveta ignores him and takes her former husband’s hand. She twines her hand with his, guiding his long fingers (god those fingers, they really are too girly for a guy. I mean most girls don’t have fingers that long and delicate and oh shit they’re touching him) onto Gilbert’s cock.
“’haven’t had a dream this interesting in awhile,” he mutters through a gasp. God Roderich’s fingers are incredible, and far, far too soft. Elizaveta’s are rougher, they scrape on his skin, but Roderich’s feel like silk. “Alright.” Enough of this, if neither of them are going to talk he can damn well do it for them. “Give a guy something to work with there. I mean, as invasions go this is pretty tame and—” Gilbert throws his head back, a groan catching and dying in his throat as the light touches on him become a tight pull. Roderich is working him with a skill that makes Gilbert wonder how often he’s done this before (a few late nights all alone Specs? he thinks, biting back a smirk).
Elizaveta leans over him, her hand brushing up his chest, tickling his ribs and flicking his nipple until she’s rubbing her thumb around his collarbone and along his neck. He can see down her shirt, he realizes, and when she doesn’t hit him for staring he sighs into her touches as he enjoys the view. Yep, this is a dream. There’s no possible way this could ever actually happen, with Elizaveta leaning down to kiss him of her own volition (god her tongue in his mouth is gorgeous) and Roderich’s hands touching him just like that. He wishes his hands were free, so he could join in, touch them both. If this is a dream he might as well enjoy it. It’ll never happen again. Hell he’s awesome enough to have this kind of dream in the first place, why shouldn’t he take advantage?
“Gonna let me go?” he asks as Elizaveta pulls back from the kiss. She looks confused for a moment, her forehead furrows and her eyes sharpen through the flush of her skin. She’s enjoying this, he realizes, and it makes him grin. Roderich is pumping him now, skillfully pressing those fingers into his hot flesh, though its still so slow it’s more of a tease then any sort of relief.
Elizaveta leans down to lick his ear, tracing the shell of it with her tongue. “If you’re good,” she whispers in his ear.
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(Anonymous) 2009-03-13 01:20 am (UTC)(link)“Roderich dear,” Elizaveta says, her voice a cheerful hum that belays the utter mischief in her eyes, “would you like to join us?”
This is definitely not happening; Gilbert thinks when Roderich silently pushes himself off the wall and approaches. He sits down on the other side of the bed, dipping the mattress the other direction and causing Gilbert to shift under Elizaveta’s continuing (and by this point far, far to soft) touches. Gilbert grits his teeth and groans in frustration. Elizaveta ignores him and takes her former husband’s hand. She twines her hand with his, guiding his long fingers (god those fingers, they really are too girly for a guy. I mean most girls don’t have fingers that long and delicate and oh shit they’re touching him) onto Gilbert’s cock.
“’haven’t had a dream this interesting in awhile,” he mutters through a gasp. God Roderich’s fingers are incredible, and far, far too soft. Elizaveta’s are rougher, they scrape on his skin, but Roderich’s feel like silk. “Alright.” Enough of this, if neither of them are going to talk he can damn well do it for them. “Give a guy something to work with there. I mean, as invasions go this is pretty tame and—” Gilbert throws his head back, a groan catching and dying in his throat as the light touches on him become a tight pull. Roderich is working him with a skill that makes Gilbert wonder how often he’s done this before (a few late nights all alone Specs? he thinks, biting back a smirk).
Elizaveta leans over him, her hand brushing up his chest, tickling his ribs and flicking his nipple until she’s rubbing her thumb around his collarbone and along his neck. He can see down her shirt, he realizes, and when she doesn’t hit him for staring he sighs into her touches as he enjoys the view. Yep, this is a dream. There’s no possible way this could ever actually happen, with Elizaveta leaning down to kiss him of her own volition (god her tongue in his mouth is gorgeous) and Roderich’s hands touching him just like that. He wishes his hands were free, so he could join in, touch them both. If this is a dream he might as well enjoy it. It’ll never happen again. Hell he’s awesome enough to have this kind of dream in the first place, why shouldn’t he take advantage?
“Gonna let me go?” he asks as Elizaveta pulls back from the kiss. She looks confused for a moment, her forehead furrows and her eyes sharpen through the flush of her skin. She’s enjoying this, he realizes, and it makes him grin. Roderich is pumping him now, skillfully pressing those fingers into his hot flesh, though its still so slow it’s more of a tease then any sort of relief.
Elizaveta leans down to lick his ear, tracing the shell of it with her tongue. “If you’re good,” she whispers in his ear.
Gilbert grins. “Never.”