Nirvana Ch. 04

"Baby, look at me." Noel husked, and when he got his attention, continued, "Relax. If something doesn't feel good, tell me, and I'll stop." He grabbed his chin and gave him a kiss they both didn't know they needed.

"Do you trust me?"

Owen nodded.

"Use your words."

"I trust you." His voice was low and hoarse, but words came naturally to him. What also came naturally was the urge to suck on Noel's middle and index fingers when they pushed past his lips. He didn't know why he did it, but his tongue twirled around them, much to Noel's amusement, until they were slick with his fluid.

"You'll like this, just don't fight me." He took his wet fingers out of his mouth then kissed him again, "And, for God's sake, stop wriggling your hand, okay?"

They both smiled, and Owen nodded again.

"Words!"

"Okay."

Noel's words worked like magic; like a lullaby leaving Owen not so petrified by the idea anymore. He found safety in Noel's arms, and looking up at how beautiful he was, how skilfully his lips, tongue, and fingers worked his body like they were born to, mellowing him, getting him exactly where he wanted. With one nudge on his thigh, Owen opened his legs to allow him better access, and every tiny little movement of Noel's slick, dexterous fingers felt amplified by anticipation. It was wrong how right it all felt -how perfect.

Noel took his lips, and moved up and down his crack, swallowing each and every delicious whimper that escaped whenever he pressed so maddeningly hard on sensitive skin. He moved in circles around Owen's eager hole, spreading the wetness for easy entry while nibbling softly on his ear. Each stroke propelled his eagerness and arousal over all limits, and Owen couldn't take it anymore; he opened his legs wider and thrust up into his hand. He couldn't wait for Noel to take him, introduce him to a feeling he'd never imagined before. Every nerve cell in his brain shot millions of signals electrifying his body, and his heart rate accelerated enough for him to feel it hitting against his ribs.

The wrinkled skin smoothed out, and he opened up earnestly for the imminent touch. Noel pushed his face into Owen's cheek, and the tips of his index and middle fingers were placed at his entrance, and that was when Owen freaked out. He had mentally accustomed himself to taking one finger, and even that was too much considering how he'd never had anything in there before. His calmness faltered and shrivelled, he started pulling and yanking his wrist, and his sphincter clenched again. Noel's grip around his wrist almost had his bones grate together, and he whined in his ear warningly.

"Maybe next time I'll tie those pretty little hands up."

Owen looked incredulous, not because of his words, but because of how turned on he was at hearing them. Something about being tied up and completely under control of the monster with the wicked half smile made him shiver in delight. All of a sudden, he forgot what he was so scared of. Noel clearly had experience; he would never hurt him, and there was no one else that could do any of this better. He reached up to catch Noel's lips, just to ease some of his tension. When they broke apart, Noel whispered to him warmly.

"Talk to me, baby."

"It's just... I've never done this..."

"I know." He let go of his wrist and linked their fingers together, and Owen felt immediate relief. A serene voice in his ear told him not to worry, and that he'll make him feel good. There was a pause where Noel left feathery kisses all over the side of his neck. He felt two slender fingers push inside him, gentle but firm, and he gasped and squeezed Noel's hand.

There was a bit of pressure, a bit of a stretch, some discomfort, but nothing felt particularly unpleasant. The pounding of his heart echoed in his cock, and he was unaware of the noises that came out of his mouth. When things got too overwhelming, Noel's voice helped; the cooing, shushing, and affirmation of how beautiful he was, how nice he felt, and how much he'd wanted to do this. Noel entered him carefully and slowly, but there was some occasional resistance that would make Owen force his eyes shut and yelp, and Noel would comfort him by delivering the sweetest words into his ears, and some nibbling and licking on his skin.

Noel marvelled at how hot he looked, squirming and grunting, still holding on to his purity but reaching the level of utmost seduction. When his fingers were buried deep to the hilt inside him, Owen let out a feral groan, and Noel's cock got so hard it almost hurt. He left his fingers in there without moving, partially to let Owen get used to the feeling, partially to get some restraint himself. Owen was panting. He took Noel's hand entangled in his own, and placed it against his warm lips, and Noel smiled and kissed his cheek.

It wasn't long before the shock faded, and Owen started needing more of that vague sensation of pleasure he could feel down there. He rolled his hips and Noel got the hint and moved his fingers out then back in at a slow, gradual pace. The tiny whimpers that steadily got louder and louder as he went made Noel bite his bottom lip to stop his own moans.

"Noel." He sighed, slightly high pitched and desperate.

"Hmm?"

"Feels so good."

Noel growled, and curled his fingers up in a beckoning motion, pressing on Owen's inner button with a bit of his signature gentle force, and Owen screamed out, nearly piercing Noel's eardrums. The feeling was intense; hot beyond comprehension. It was pleasure that he never knew existed. He was on the verge of an orgasm for what seemed to be an eternity while Noel massaged him and moved in and out harder than he'd planned to, but neither of them was conscious enough to care.

Everything before and after that moment seemed so insignificant; nothing mattered other than their unadulterated pleasure, and their noises -Noel's wild muffled growls and Owen's desperate cries- that filled up the room and bounced off its walls. Owen's skin flushed red everywhere, his eyes fluttered, nostrils flared, lips swollen and parted, and his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead -Noel thought he was the physical embodiment of sex.

He was possessed by a pure, primitive need to have him, and he didn't know if he could control it anymore. He was only a few seconds away from turning him around and fucking him, with no regard to any norms or consequences whatsoever. He could only halt himself by impaling his teeth in Owen's skin and thrusting his fingers inside him harder, alternating between a circular motion and powerful shoving. Owen saw colours and shapes; he cried out to Noel, to god, to Jesus fucking Christ, until his voice cracked and hips were raised off the bed.

Noel finger fucked him with relentless fury; biting his neck hard with each moan and sucking the skin inside his mouth. The last thing Owen remembered seeing was the dream catcher upside down above his head, before his eyes rolled up, and the first load of his arousal shot over his body and landed on the headboard. The following shots splattered on his chest, stomach, and spilled onto Noel's hand.

He didn't know what happened next. Whether he'd fallen asleep or passed out from exhaustion, he wasn't sure; he just zoned out for some time, and was only brought back to reality when he felt Noel pulling his fingers out with a bit of a struggle. He winced and actively relaxed to let him out, then a kiss was placed on his forehead and Noel left his side. After a while, Owen felt the bed dipping with Noel's weight, and a warm wet towel was dragged over his skin.

The reality of his surroundings, along with what had happened, was slowly coming back to him, and he didn't know whether to panic then or later. Noel was smiling at him, looking as confident as he always looked, and all he needed at the time was one more kiss to make everything feel real again. Noel cleaned his skin thoroughly, then the headboard, and Owen watched closely as he walked across the room to put the towel away, wondering how anyone could be so perfect; wondering how, by any stretch of the imagination, he managed to end up in his bed.

Noel swayed towards him with the suaveness of a diplomat, his charm made even more obvious compared with the skin, bones, and wreck that was Owen.

Just a kiss. One more kiss.

Noel sat gracefully next to him, and Owen sat up to be on level.

"I got too carried away," Noel said, "Near the end. I didn't hurt you, did I?" He tucked back the few hairs that fell over Owen's forehead.

"No, it was... It was amazing."

Noel smiled humbly. His lips, thin and sweet and made for Owen to devour. Owen rubbed a red and blue and slightly tender bruise on his neck.

"This did a bit, though."

"Yeah, sorry." He didn't even need to look, "Only way I could stop myself from fucking you."

He was nonchalant, but Owen's eyes dilated in shock. He shivered at the idea, and felt a sudden rush of arousal at the same time. The evening had drained him enough; he couldn't fathom the thought of it.

"Not sorry about that, however." Noel interrupted his train of thought, pointing at a red circle around his wrist, and they both laughed. He then drew his fingers to Owen's lips and gently swiped over the red blotch, "Or that."

Owen was begging with his eyes to kiss him. His raw, worn out expression was irresistible, and Noel leaned to give him a closed mouth kiss. Before he pulled away, Owen clamped a hand over the base of his skull, and poured the last bit of energy he had into a deep, lip smashing kiss.

"Why didn't you?" He said through ragged breath.

"Why didn't I what?"

He looked down then back up, and Noel raised his eyebrows in understanding. "Didn't think you'd be into that."

"You said you didn't bottom."

"Oh, don't be silly. I wasn't implying you had to, I was only saying!"

"I want to."

His words took them both by surprise, and Noel's cock bumped back to full length again. "Owen Matthews, you're trying to kill me."

He was casting his lust aside and pushing it away by humour. He was certain Owen wasn't anywhere near ready, and neither of them had any energy left, but he knew for a fact that none of that would matter if he were to so much as think about having sex with that pale, young, stammering figure of beauty.

"What did I do?" Owen laughed.

"You're so eager."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Shush, now. We'll talk about that later."

"But-"

Noel interrupted him with a kiss. It was to shut him up more than anything, and they were both chuckling against each other's lips.

"So, what do we do now?"

"We sleep."

That wasn't what he meant, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't asking in the literal sense. He knew they'll sleep, eventually anyway; Noel will probably go for a shower, then brush his teeth and come out smelling like an oak tree, and he'll have to take yet another pair of Noel's boxers and dread the lack of a toothbrush. It would get cold later at night, and their bodies would seek one another for warmth. Owen maybe would smell Noel's hair, or study his features, if the latter was deep enough into sleep -he knew all that. What he was asking about was what would happen next. After the sun shines and they both go their separate ways. He wondered if the next time they meet will also be under unknown circumstances, and riddled with uncertainty.

Noel was like a box of surprises that was within reach yet unattainable, and he didn't know how far he could push him before he drew the line, so he didn't try at all. Instead, he lay there with poignant anxiety, wondering if Noel would be there come Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or his birthday, or the next morning; wondering at which point exactly Noel would decide to call it a day.