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10 February 2008 @ 03:58 pm
Neftali and Edward: Little Bites  
Who: Neftali Neruda and Edward Monk
Where: Neftali's apartment
When: the next morning (after their last scene)

Edward wakes up with a bit of a start, sucking in a breath suddenly. It's still early, but the sun is up. He breathes out slowly and tries to relax, but now he's shaking a little. A nightmare. He's tangled up with Neftali. He turns his face to Neftali's, hoping he didn't wake him.

Neftali stirs a bit. He's tangled up with Edward, his hand up his shirt, fingertips resting over his heart. He licks his lips and barely opens his eyes, looking at Edward. He smiles faintly, pulling him closer and nuzzling a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Edward closes his eyes, lifting his hand to sift through Neftali's hair. His turns his face to fit his lips to Neftali's, a soft kiss. He wonders if Neftali is awake. He wonders if Neftali knows who he is. If maybe he would respond this way to any body he woke up beside. It's an odd thing to wonder, and he tries to push it away. He doesn't want to think those thoughts.

"Bunos dias, Edward," he whispers against his lips. His hand shifts, fingertips tracing against his nipple. He knows who he's with. He knows this is who he wants to be waking up to this morning.

Edward's breath catches. It's unexpected. He's never felt anything like it before. His fingers tighten in Neftali's hair. His eyes open, heavy-lidded. "Oh yes," he murmurs. Very good morning.

Neftali kisses him softly again, sucking gently on his lower lip. He feels hazy and drowsy. Dreamy. His fingertips trace against his nipple again, circling it slowly. He turns his face to Edward's throat, kissing it gently.

Edward's spine curves, arching towards Neftali's hand. His neck tilts to Neftali's mouth, and a soft moan escapes his lips. It feels so good. There are odd sparks and shocks in his body, things he doesn't understand. It's a little scary, but in a good way. Edward likes this kind of scary. "Yes," he whispers. His own hand slides up Neftali's shirt, and finds his nipple. His fingertips rub over it a bit cautiously, wanting to return the sensation.

Neftali's body arches toward Edward's grazing fingertips. He rolls his fingers slightly, sliding his leg up over Edward's hip. He kisses him, mouth opening slightly against his, tongue sliding out to touch to his. His hand slides away and he pulls back, opening his eyes again. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't mean to..."

Edward gravitates towards him at first, making a sound of protest, but then he remembers himself and draws away. "It's okay," he whispers. "I'm... Me too. Carried away. Good morning."

He sighs. He wants to touch him. He wants it so much. But he doesn't want to push him away. He doesn't want to frighten him. His hand rests low on Edward's stomach and he nuzzles his cheek, then shifts, moving onto his side and turning Edward so that Neftali's front fits against his back. He holds him close. Perfect. "I'm sorry," he whispers again.

"Stop, it's okay," Edward whispers, sliding his hand along Neftali's arm. "I liked it. You shouldn't be sorry." Edward closes his eyes, stirring a bit, unintentionally shifting back against Neftali's hips, accidental friction. "It felt good."

Neftali's eyes close at that gentle pressure against his hips. This might not be the wisest position either, but he can't bear to let go of Edward. "I just don't want you to think... I don't want to push too fast. I don't expect anything of you, Edward."

"I know," Edward murmurs, his fingertips tracing to Neftali's wrist, over the lines on the back of his hand, fitting between his knuckles. "I trust you. You know I trust you completely."

He nods. His hand is resting against Edward's stomach. He wants to rest it against his skin again. Skin to skin. Sharing warmth. He wants to feel the heat of him. His hips shift slightly, moving against Edward's a bit before he stops. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. Only one nightmare," Edward says softly. "And not a very bad one. I don't get them very much when you're around." His fingertips trace between Neftali's. He wants to put his hand back up his shirt, but he's almost afraid that Neftali's fingers will find his nipple again, that he'll get carried away and it'll all happen too soon. He wants to wait. There's still so much more to feel, and he wants to savor it slowly. "It's not that I'm afraid," he says softly. "Not of you. It's not that I don't want it. But if you eat a chocolate bar too fast, then it's gone, you know? Little bites."

"Mordisquito." Neftali's fingers curl against Edward's stomach. He turns his face, biting his neck softly. Little bites.

Edward's lips part, another soft moan escaping them. This is going to be very hard. Very hard, when everything Neftali does feels so good, and he wants so badly to give in. He nods faintly. "You've got the idea," he murmurs, and then laughs softly. "It's not going to be easy."

No. It's rather hard. Neftali has to pull his hips away from Edward, a casual movement to keep from startling him with the reaction that he has on Neftali's body. "I should make breakfast." He wants Edward. He wants to dine on him. Taste all there is of him. He can't. Not yet. He slides to the edge of the bed, sliding out from under the blanket. He heads to the bathroom, keeping his back to Edward.

Edward sits up. He glances at Neftali's turned back, and then lifts up the blanket and looks down at the swell in his jeans. He swallows and closes his eyes, dropping the blanket. He sighs, sliding his fingers down his face. He kind of wants to drop ice down his jeans. "Do you need to go out?" he asks Neftali, though he doesn't leave the cover of the blankets quite yet. "If I'm interrupting something, tell me, okay?"

Neftali glances at him before disappearing into the bathroom. "You're not interrupting anything, Edward." He smiles softly and shuts the door. It takes him a few minutes to emerge. Takes him a while to let himself calm down a bit. When he walks back out of the bathroom and sees Edward lying tousled on his bed, his shirt pulled up slightly, his hair a mess, skin shining in the early morning light, it makes it difficult to stay calmed down. He licks his lips, not quite able to look away from Edward.

Edward's eyes are on Neftali. His jeans are still uncomfortable, and he shifts his hips slightly. Oh, he aches for him. He doesn't want to wait. He licks his lips, and then draws in a breath. "I don't have class today," he says. "So I don't have to go. I mean, not right away."

It's too soon. Too fast. But his eyes go down to Edward's hips-- the way they shift under the blanket, and he licks his lips again before shaking himself out of it a bit. Little bites. Kissing. Bare touches to his chest. But oh, he wants to make Edward arch. He wants to taste him. He wants to hear him moan. He clears his throat softly. "That's good."

He sees the way Neftali's eyes go down. His hips shift again, his spine arching slightly. It's kind of evil. There's something in him that wants to draw Neftali in. That wants him so much. "It's early for breakfast." He's being wicked. He feels evil. He closes his eyes. "No. No, breakfast is a wonderful idea. Don't listen to me." He lifts his hand and covers his eyes. Fuck.

Neftali comes back to the bed, crawling onto it. He kneels beside Edward, looking down at him. "What do you want?" he murmurs.

Edward keeps his hand over his eyes. He swallows a bit heavily. "My jeans are too tight." It's such an odd thing to say, he realizes afterwards, and presses his lips together.

Neftali watches him again for a moment, then slowly draws the covers back from him. He glances down at the swell in his jeans and then looks back up at Edward's face. His hand moves to Edward's stomach, fingers moving down slowly, stopping at the button of his jeans. Waiting for him to stop him.

Edward bites his lip, and his spine arches. He feels embarrassed, now that Neftali knows, like maybe he's dirty for being excited this way. He reaches to Neftali's hand, stopping it. "Wait," he whispers, and swallows hard, his eyes moving to Neftali's face. He licks his lips, which feel suddenly very dry. "There won't be anything left if you... it'll be old news. I'll be... you'll already know everything."

Neftali's hand stops beneath Edward's. He's looking at his eyes. "There are infinite things to know about a person. Countless things to learn." He should stop. Should draw his hand away. He brings his face down, kissing Edward's ear instead. "I don't have to look, if you don't want me to see everything yet. I can just touch." His fingers move down, gliding over the zipper just a bit. He draws his hand away again and sits up. He's horrible. He's horrible for doing this to him. "Or... we can wait. I'll wait."

Edward's spine is arched, and he turns his face to the side, turns his cheek against the pillow. He squirms a little. It actually hurts. His jeans are too tight and they hurt, and there's an ache that's growing painful. His breath is a little heavy. He feels like he's tied around Neftali's finger, like a puppet. Not that Neftali is manipulating him - not that. Just as if he's powerless, as if Neftali is completely in control of his body. He shakes his head. No. He can't wait. "It hurts," he breathes.

Neftali bits his lip, looking down at him. In a moment, his mouth is on his, kissing it gently, catching at the corner of his lips. He shifts on the bed, stretching out along side Edward. His hand returns to the button on his jeans. Works it loose. He slides the zipper down.

Edward's back curves off the bed, and his arm tangles around Neftali's neck, his hand knots into the back of Neftali's hair. He moans softly against Neftali's mouth, and his tongue slides over his lower lip. His body responds naturally, on instinct - he does what comes to him, works on feeling and intuition, just like when he paints. "You too," he whispers. "Are you... you too?" He wonders if it's just him. If he's just dirty, and he's the only one who wound up in this state. He wonders if he has the same effect on Neftali.

His fingers glide against Edward through the thin material of his underwear. He nods. Kisses him again. "But this is for you." His mouth opens against his, tongue touching to his lips as his palm fits against him, rubbing gently.

A moan escapes him, a little hoarse and louder than he intends. His eyes close, and his tongue moves to touch Neftali's, to draw Neftali's tongue into his mouth. To slide against his, to taste and touch. His hips roll with Neftali's touch, a little desperately. He's never touched himself like that, never dared to. He knows how it all works - has a vague idea, anyway - but it always seemed dirty and wrong. And he's never needed it this way before. It's never hurt before.

Neftali's tongue winds against Edward's, tasting his moan. His hand moves up, pushing the fabric of his underwear away. Sliding under it. He wants more. He wants to see. He wants to press his mouth to Edward's body, but it's all so disconnected. It's all need. Passion. His mouth leaves Edward's, hand leaving him for a moment so that he can lick his palm. And then his mouth is on his again. His fingers wrap around him.

Edward feels vaguely like he might die. A sound escapes him, a desperate moan. He's panting hard. He's being touched for the first time, and his nerves are on fire. He feels like his whole body is an electrical current, like it's alive and moving and sparking on its own. He's clinging a bit helplessly to Neftali, and his head tips back on the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut. "Neftali," he moans, followed by a series of short, panting breaths. It's getting more and more intense. Something is building, and Edward hasn't a single coherent thought - he's lost in a current, feeling like he's being carried out to sea in a violent undertow.

Neftali props himself up on his elbow, looking down at Edward, watching his face. Watching the passion there. His hand moves a bit faster, driving Edward toward that edge. That release. His own hips are moving slightly... anxious, envious. He licks his lips, dying for a taste of Edward. Little bites. Touching now. Then he'll get to see. Then he'll get to taste.

His fingers curl up at the back of Neftali's neck, scratching unconsciously, and then he breaks. It rakes through him violently, so much like sticking his finger in a socket, so sudden and jarring that his eyes flash open, his body curves off the bed and his hips buck against Neftali's hand. "Oh god." He's gasping for air, his eyes are a little wide, and he eases down against the bed and swallows hard. Another shock shudders through his body, and his eyes sink closed. His face turns towards Neftali's. "Oh." His heart is going fast, and he feels paralyzed.

His hand stops, releases him. It moves up the dip of his stomach, over his ribs. He brings his face down to kiss him-- his temple, his closed eyes, the bridge of his nose. He kisses his mouth gently.

Edward is slowly starting to take in his surroundings. The way his nerves are still sparking. The way his skin is hot, a little damp. The fact that his fingers are knotted in Neftali's hair. He swallows. He feels...wet. He pushes up on his elbows and looks down, frowning a little. He doesn't remember it happening.

Neftali bites his lips. Then his eyes slowly look down as well, down Edward's stomach. The remnants of his release, the heavy curve of him. Beautiful. He looks back up at Edward's face. "Are you alright?"

Edward nods, and then looks to Neftali's face. He swallows a bit. He feels kind of filthy. His father always said these things were dirty. Wrong. Bad. And he's sticky and wet and he's still swollen in his underwear, though he can feel it easing down. "Does that always happen?" he asks.

"Does..." Neftali glances down at him again, and then back up at his face. His first time. It makes sense, but Neftali hadn't realized. He nods. "Usually. Do you... you can take a shower if you'd like."

Edward licks his lips and then nods. Dirty. Neftali probably wants him to get off his clean bed. He looks away. He does up the fastenings of his jeans and then slides carefully off the bed. "I'll wash off," he says. He wants to ask if it happens to Neftali too. It seems below Neftali, to make a mess like that. Neftali could never be dirty.

Neftali slides to the edge of the bed and stands up as well, catching at Edward's sleeve and pulling him in for a kiss-- loving and gentle. His hand touches to his stomach, sliding up his shirt to touch to the sticky mess that Edward had made. "You're beautiful," he whispers. "So beautiful."

Edward's breath catches a little, and he looks down at Neftali's hand touching his stomach. "Neftali-" He doesn't know why Neftali would touch that. "That's - that-" He shakes his head. He's a little floored. He has no idea how to react, and it shows.

Neftali looks down at his hand as well, then up at Edward. "That is beautiful."

Edward's eyes search Neftali's. His own eyes are a cold shade of gray, colorless. Neftali's are warm hazel-green, light and glowing. Heat. Beautiful, he calls it. Neftali wouldn't lie. "Are you sure?" he asks.

He nods and leans in to kiss Edward again, his thumb tracing over his navel. Everything about him is beautiful. Everything about him is perfect. And now Neftali can touch him, can kiss him. He sucks softly on his lower lip and draws back. "Beautiful," he says again.

Edward nods, and looks down at Neftali's hand. Even if it is beautiful, he thinks Neftali probably has to wash it off. "Do you want to wash off first?" he asks. "I'll be quick in the shower."

He wants to shower with him. He wants to see him bare. But he can't push him that far. His hand leaves him and he smiles. "I can wash up at the sink. You go have a shower. You can wear any of my things if you'd like." It sounds oddly defeated in its way.

Edward nods, and his eyes follow Neftali's hand, sticky with his mess. It's such an odd thing, that it came from his body. Even odder that Neftali calls it beautiful, when to Edward it just seems sticky and wet. He's awfully curious about it. "Could I do that to you, too?" he asks suddenly, and his eyes lift to Neftali's face. His cheeks flush. "I mean. I mean..." He shakes his head. "Sorry."

Neftali looks back at him. He smiles faintly and nods. "Whenever you'd want to, Edward." He leans in for another soft kiss, catching at his lower lip.

"It feels very good," Edward says, as if Neftali might not know, and then he remembers that lots of people have probably done that to Neftali. Edward would probably be very bad at it. He wants to, but he's sure he wouldn't be any good. He makes himself draw away, makes himself head for the shower. "I'll be... I'll be out in a few minutes," Edward says, before he slips into the bathroom. He looks down at himself. His jeans fit fine now, at least. He peels off his clothes a bit gingerly and gets in the shower. The soap in Neftali's shower smells like him - like apples, like something faintly masculine and warm. It's all so odd. Kissing Neftali. Being touched by him. Being wanted. It's odd. He pulls a towel out of the cabinet and dries his hair, scrubs it over his skin and then gets dressed. He leaves his underwear off - they're still wet. He zips up his sweatshirt as he leaves the bathroom, his hair a dark mess of wet spikes.

Neftali is at the stove, scrambling eggs. There's a plate of sliced fruit on the corner of the counter for Edward-- strawberries, an orange, pineapple, grapes. He glances at Edward as he comes into the kitchen area. He smiles, warm and adoring. It's odd, to be able to kiss him, touch him. To wake up with him. To be able to let him know that he's more than just a friend. That Neftali sees him as more. A beautiful, shy animal. A cold little bird that he's warmed with his hands and is teaching how to soar. He holds his hand out to him, wanting to pull him near.

Edward comes in, moving close to Neftali, tangling his long arms up around Neftali's neck and fitting his lips to Neftali's. It's a bit bold of him, he thinks. Touching without Neftali specifically asking him to. Edward feels very brave when he does it. His lips kiss off, and then return from a different angle, locking softly with Neftali's.

Neftali's arm slides around Edward's back, holding him close. It is bold of him-- bold of Edward to kiss him. It makes Neftali feel warm. Right. His lips touch softly to Edward's, fitting against them. They're slow to part with his, and when they do they're back in a moment. Another kiss. He drops the wooden spoon he was using to stir the eggs and slides his other arm around Edward, his hand fitting over the sharp line of his shoulder blade.

Edward sighs softly into the kiss, a sound of pleasure. His body is lined up with Neftali's, inch for inch, and it feels so wonderful. He finally eases back after the kiss lingers on a few more moments, swallowing. "Sorry," he says quietly. "Your eggs."

Neftali's full, wanting mouth follows Edward's for an instant when he pulls away. He draws back away as well then, looking at Edward for a moment before remembering quite what Edward is talking about. He looks at the eggs and reaches to turn off the stove, pulling the pan from the heat. He can't push too fast. He won't. He licks his lips, fingers tracing idly down the handle of the pan, thumb stroking the small of Edward's back.

Edward gets a small shiver from the touch, watching Neftali out of his dark eyes. He turns his face towards Neftali's shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. Warm and comforting, sweet like apples. He kisses Neftali's shoulder softly. "I like this."

Neftali slides his arm around Edward again, tipping his head against Edward's hair. "I could hold you forever," he murmurs, his voice soft and warm.

It makes Edward's lips curve with a smile, his eyes closed, dreamy and sweet. "I don't think you could. I think you'd have to do things eventually. You'd have to write. And besides, your arms would get very tired."

Neftali smiles as well, drawing back a bit and raising his hands to Edward's face. His palms cradle the corners of Edward's jaw, fingers sinking back into his damp hair. "Then I'll have to make up for human weakness by holding you as often as possible." He leans in, catching at his lips, sucking gently on his lower lip. His tongue touches to it lightly and he lets his lips slide free. It's soft and sensual. Gentle. Loving.

Edward doesn't move away from the kiss. His lips meet Neftali's again, parting against his, his tongue moving out to touch Neftali's lips and then slide into his mouth, tasting his tongue. Very bold. Neftali makes him feel brave. He wants to kiss him this way, wants to please him. Wants to please himself by being close to him. He pulls back after a moment and clears his throat, looking at Neftali's pan of eggs. "They'll get cold."

That kiss, the touch of Edward's tongue. It's all a fan on the glowing coals in Neftali's stomach. He can't take his eyes away from him for a moment. That pale skin, dark hair. He's hypnotic. Addictive. Neftali drags his eyes away, looking down at his eggs. "Mmhmm." His hands glide down Edward's back, fingers trailing along the waistband of his jeans. He doesn't let go of him yet. He looks back at him. "I fixed some fruit for you."

"Thank you," Edward says, looking to the plate of fruit. He reaches for it without moving far from Neftali, and moves back in close to him once he has it. "You always pick the best fruit. When I get strawberries, they're never nearly as good," Edward says, picking one up and taking a bite.

Neftali smiles. It's difficult not to lean in and kiss Edward's mouth, shining with strawberry juice. It's difficult not to drag him back to the bed and slide the zipper of his sweatshirt down. "I'll take you to the market today. We'll buy you some good fruits and vegetables. I'll introduce you to... my contacts." He says it a bit playfully, as if he's part of a shadowy fruit buying conspiracy. He leans in and kisses Edward softly, briefly. He was never very good at resisting temptation.

Edward tilts his chin towards the kiss - to every kiss, he lifts his face to receive it, closes his eyes. He leans up when Neftali starts to pull away to prolong the kiss, tasting like strawberries, sweet and sharp. He finally lets Neftali pull away, and licks a bit of strawberry juice off his finger. "Okay. Teach me to buy fruit. Though, I imagine it'll still be better when you give it to me."

Neftali laughs softly and turns away from Edward, reaching for a plate. He tips his cooled eggs onto it and gets a fork, taking a bite. He watches Edward as he does. Edward. In his apartment. Edward, who he'd spent the night kissing and woken up to. Who he'd touched, felt, wrapped his fingers around and lived in his moans. Edward. His Edward. He smiles again. His.