Alfie Solomons (
ofanotherera) wrote2015-09-10 10:14 am
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office party
It goes almost just as Alfie would have expected. He ends up spending the most of the night with cocky, hotshot second year associates trying to subtly talk themselves up, and him grinding his teeth and holding an incongruously delicate champagne glass- then eventually trading it for a tumbler of scotch.
When Tommy finally springs him, he puts a warm arm around his waist, give him a kiss on the throat, just below his ear, and walks him out of the place just like that, standing tall against the stairs, and nobly waiting untl he gets to the elevator to chuckle.
When Tommy finally springs him, he puts a warm arm around his waist, give him a kiss on the throat, just below his ear, and walks him out of the place just like that, standing tall against the stairs, and nobly waiting untl he gets to the elevator to chuckle.
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He whispers, and picks up the pace a little faster, fucking him with three fingers now, eyes half shut.
"Fucking beautiful. Going to do this to you right on top of that desk."
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"Yeah. Pretty thing on a pretty shelf."
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Alfie tells him, softly, like that, once said, is that. Not yet, not yet, but looking him in the eyes, making sure he understands.
"You are going to come for me. Like a good little-"
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Hoarse, now, or rather, even hoarser than his usual croak. He lets his throat go, and reaches down, stroking him hard with that hand, ready to help him the rest of the way there in case his body isn't ready, enjoying the vicarious rush.
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"Good God in heaven, Tommy Shelby, the way you make me feel."
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"You take care of me," he whispers, eyes still closed. "Can I...?" Help in turn.
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He wonders, rubbing the clean hand through his hair.
"How worn?"
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Because there are parts of him that are exhausted and parts that are not; he can't answer before knowing what part Alfie wants.
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Grinding his hips up, before leaning up to steal a kiss.
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"On my side, your chest against my back." Which is intimate, and slow and sweet and just what he needs.
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Alfie murmurs, rocking over, to gently, carefully deposit Tommy on the mattress. He smooths his hands along his shoulders, kisses his ear, his throat, the side and nape of his neck, as he coaxes him over and up onto his side.
When he wants, he has no shortage of tenderness in him.
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"What do you think of the most? When you're alone?" Now, he notices: his voice is hoarse and raspy, and the knowledge of the reason makes him shiver.
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"You, at the point of overstimulation. When your great big eyes go bright and glassy."
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"You push those expressions out of me."
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Rocking his hips up, starting a slow rhythm, taking care to reach around, tweak his nipples, one, then the other, short pinches and tugs to get him shivering.
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He purrs to him, returning to holding him splayed open, to kissing along his ear, and to enjoying how he feels.
"I am possessive of you, my lovely thing."
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