PSL post for daughterless

[leanonstuff]

[The NCR had sent Norman to the Vault because the area was surrounded by Fiends, and he was damn good at blending among the various "criminal" groups around the Mojave. No way an ordinary NCR trooper would be able to get inside without being attacked. And according to their intelligence, exactly what was inside was of such great importance that they couldn't possibly wait to go after it just in case Caesar's Legion got wind of it and acted first. Norman was searching for a box of special bottles that appeared to be beer or vodka bottles, but were actually filled with a chemical that, when introduced into a water supply, could spread a deadly bacteria that would wipe out anyone who drank the contaminated water for at least a month.

Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.

10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]

Comments

[leanonstuff]

[With Joel completely naked before him, Norman lets his eyes roam freely over his body, clearly appreciative of what he's seeing. Some of his view is blocked by the other man's head as he presses kisses to his skin and even adds some teeth, a move which draws a sounds of approval from him.

And then Norman is hit by the sly desire to give Joel the first taste of what it feels like to be truly intimate with another man. Kissing and touches here and there are one thing, what he has in mind is another.

While his companion is distracted offering him that pleasant attention, Norman reaches a hand down and curls his fingers around Joel's length, giving it a few firm strokes.]

[daughterless]

[Joel is still focused on touching and tasting him, biting gently, and then, with Norman's little sounds of pleasure in his ears, not so gently at his neck and shoulder, never quite breaking skin. Some primal, possessive part of him enjoys it all the more for the neat half-circle marks he leaves on his companion's pale body. Joel leans in, almost close enough to press his chest against him when he feels Norman's hand on his cock and he nearly chokes, fingers tightening on the other man's thighs as the air is forced out of his lungs in a low hiss of pleasure.]

Shit-- [He leans into the other man's grip, breathing ragged. Damn, that had felt good, and it's been so fucking long...] Don't stop.

[leanonstuff]

[The bites start to border on painful, but Norman never complains, not when he finally has Joel to himself (at least for the moment). And he feels a sharp, deep surge of arousal at his companion's reaction to his hand on his length; that harsh breathing, that request to keep going. He is more than happy to oblige.]

I wasn't planning on it.

[But he does lighten his grip slightly so that he doesn't accidentally finish Joel off too quickly. It's been awhile for both of them, and he wants it to last as long as possible. For now, his fingers slide from the shaft to the head, his thumb occasionally rubbing teasingly over the tip. There really is something incredibly satisfying about hearing Joel's heavy breathing in response to his attentions.]

[daughterless]

[As Norman moves his hand over his cock with light, teasing strokes, Joel leaves off the biting with a low moan to rest his head in the crook of the other man's neck, panting softly.

Their position is a little awkward-- facing each other, knees touching, and with a sigh, Joel lets himself lean into Norman, relaxing the usual line of tight tension in his shoulders. He's not used to letting other people take charge, to put himself in their hands; his hands twitch slightly, fidgeting. He's tempted to-- to pull the other man into his lap, maybe, or press him down onto the mattress. Instead, he keeps himself occupied, letting his hands wander down Norman's sides, and then the sharp line of his hip (god, it's a wonder that the other man would even want him, scarred and weathered bastard that he is), tentatively moving over his groin and wrapping callused fingers around his erection-- wanting to return the favor, to touch and be touched in turn]