Made Glorious Spring ( 18+ from page 10 onwards )

Ben is still blushing when they finish eating, but he's cuddled even closer into Martin's side. Resonating louder and louder with warm, shy hope and desire.

He's not sure what Martin has planned, but... He's looking forward to it.

 

Martin turns, kissing his cheek. "...dishes later, or tidy up first?" His breath has the faintest hint of rum.

 

Ben kisses his lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth for a better taste. "Later," he murmurs, hand sliding up Martin's shirt.

 

Martin grins, wrapping a hand around the back of Ben's neck and pulling him in closer, slipping into his lap with a grin. "Sounds good to me."

He's already pleasantly buzzed, and the heat of Ben's desire helps, too, curled nice and close and warm, easy to reach out to.

 

Ben pulls him close, hands on his hips, and kisses him hungrily. "Want to go to bed?"

He's getting hard against Martin's ass, warm and relaxed. "Mm... This okay?"

 

"As long as it isn't to sleep," Martin grins toothily, nipping his lip gently. "You good?"

 

"... Yeah. All good." He groans softly at the bite. "Let's ... let's go."

 

"Lead the way," he grins, pulling back to stand, tugging Ben up with him and pinching his butt. "I'm right behind you?"

 

Ben squeaks at the pinch, turning to grin at Martin. "... right in here. It's not big enough to get lost in."

"So, uh... Make yourself at home?"

He sits on the bed, back pressed against the headboard, looking shyly at Martin.

 

Martin grins, then slowly peels off his shirt, taking his time. He bites his lip, dropping it to the floor, then slowly moves to the bed, carefully unbuckling his belt, sliding it down his hips in what is... clearly meant to be a slight hint of a striptease.

 

Ben blushes deeply, watching Martin with hungry eyes. "... You're gorgeous," he murmurs, gaze catching on Martin's muscles.

 

Martin slips out of his jeans stepping forward another step as he works his boxers low. "Still good?"

 

"... Still good." Ben hesitates, before tugging on the hem of his shirt. "Did you have your heart set on undressing me yourself?" he asks with a wry smile, gaze caught on the edge of Martin's boxers, the way they ride low on his hips. "Because you ... make it hard to wait."

 

"Unless you don't want me to?" He grins, slowly. "'cause if you'd prefer not t' let me, I'll give it up, but..."

He slides his boxers down just a little more, movement teasing.

 

"... nah. It sounds... nice." He gives a muffled little moan, clearly aroused, and rolls closer to touch Martin's hip. "... what do you want me to do?"

 

"...have fun?" Martin smiles broadly, leaning in to brush his lips against Ben's, sliding his hands under his shirt and splaying long fingers across his stomach.

 

Ben gasps, low and needy, and kisses back. "... I can do that," he says softly, slowly pushing Martin's boxers off his hips, down to the floor.

 

Martin laughs quietly, pulling Ben's shirt over his head and leaning over him, hand curled against the side of his head as he kisses him again, nice and slow.

 

Ben's skinny and pale, and he flushes all the way down to his collarbone. He kisses back, hand curled loosely at the hollow of Martin's hip. "You're so warm."

It feels so strange, after the last five years. He's missed being touched.

 

"Mh-hmm..." he smiles, kissing his way down from Ben's mouth to his jaw, his throat, his collarbone.

He takes his time... this is nice. Pleasant. Sweet and slow...