There was no lightning anymore, but the air still smelled like a storm. And Silvester was ecstatic.
“Come on, Tommy,” he murmured into his lover’s ear. “I know you’re feeling rough… that guy really pissed you off, huh? But I can help.”
“Fucking right… can’t believe that prick starting with you like that, Silv, what the fuck was his problem?”
There was that delicious anger burning through every line of Tom’s body. He obviously wanted to move, to work it out, to vent that adrenalin through something, anything, and when he was like this he was at his most beautiful. Those pretty red curls blew in an emotionally powered breeze, that strong jaw was clenched and tight, his stormy-blue eyes were narrowed and his brow was furrowed, but, well. Gorgeous as that was, there was a distinct lack of nakedness in Thomas that Silvester really wanted to fix to make the picture complete.
“Tommy, my sweet Tommy, come on now,” Silvester said with a purr, preventing his boyfriend’s pacing by pressing up against him and firmly grasping his shoulders. “Listen to me. It’s okay. I can feel how angry you are, and I want to help. Use that energy with me, on me. It’ll be good for you.”
When Tom finally looked down a thread of uncertainty, of concern, wove its way through his burning expression. Absolutely not what was wanted here, not yet.
“You…” Thomas’s brow loosened a little. “Silv, you’re not talking about sex, right?”
“Of course, what else?”
“I’m not sure we should, though… what if I…”
“You won’t hurt me, dearest.”
Not that it would bother Silvester if Tom hurt him a little, but that was probably beyond what the agitated sorcerer was capable of right now. Maybe another day. Maybe after another argument with whatever unpleasant argumentative drunk Silvester walked them by. Right now just getting Tom into bed would be enough, where they could both get what they needed, and so Silvester grasped the back of Thomas’s head and kissed him with immediate intensity. There was no room for any softness here; Silvester went right for it, open mouthed and with eager tongue, all passion and want. Trying to coax that energy out of Tommy and encouraging him to vent it in just the right way. It took a few moments but eventually strong, calloused hands grasped onto Silvester’s waist and dragged him in tighter.
More like it. Still not enough. Dropping both hands, dragging them down to insistently fist in Tom’s clothing, Silvester tried to walk them backwards to his waiting mattress. Tom did come with him, step by step, but before they could fully get to the desired destination he stopped kissing and let his hold drop.
“Are you really sure—”
“Can’t get you between my thighs if we’re clothed and upright.” Silvester kissed his boy one more time before tipping his head back. “Told you I was here to help, didn’t I? Come on, let’s get that energy vented…”
And with that Silvester let go of Thomas and allowed himself to fall backwards, correctly guessing that he would be grabbed before he could hit the hard floor. Tom’s initial response was instinctual, but after Silv was snuggly secure and held against that inviting chest the anger flared again, because of course it did. Mission accomplished.
“Be careful!” Tom snapped, fingers pressing into Silvester’s side just a touch harder than before, maybe enough to bruise, and Silvester laughed.
“I wasn’t in any danger, was I? See, I know it. Take me to bed, Tommy.”
It did what it needed to do, and finally, fucking finally, Thomas swept Silvester up in full and almost fell onto the sheets with him. At that point everything got way easier, clothes quickly shed, and maybe just a touch more teasing really got the fire going because holy fuck, praise the gods and by all the nine hells, once his dear Tommy was properly encouraged he was everything Silvester had ever wanted in his bed, every single bloody thing. Sure, the full potential of this heady affair was far from achieved yet, and today in particular Silvester really wished he’d been prepared so he could have truly felt it that blistering ache within rather just between thighs and against his back, but soon enough. Soon.
When they finally came up for air, when come stained Silvester’s legs and sweat sank heavy into the bed, he rolled himself over and gave a blisteringly beautiful smile to his lover. Thomas was still breathing heavy, and while his eyes were at least partly concealed by the red curls stuck to his face Silv could see enough in that expression to know there was still anger in it. Fuck.
Yes. Maybe later he’d get a second round.
“You are stunning, Tommy.” Silv shifted in to press himself up against his darling’s side. “Didn’t that feel good? Work it out in the best kind of way?”
“…yeah.”
There was an odd note in Thomas’s voice, something unsure and hesitant. Silvester considered it for a moment before shrugging it off and sliding a hand across Tom’s scarred chest. It was fine. There was proof enough between Silv’s legs that the sex had been as good for his boy as Silvester knew it had been for himself, after all.
“I’ll never get tired of our time together,” Silvester said softly, carefully pitched, pressing a kiss to one bare shoulder. “You know that, right?”
That got more of a reaction; Thomas turned his head, carefully studying Silvester’s face before nodding slightly, a little shyly, and closing his eyes. Messy sleep it was. Rest, recovery, and later, if Silvester played his cards right, he’d get to truly know how it felt to fuck with the storm.