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It seeps into him slowly, steadily - a constant stream of energy, sating, sustaining. But he's not even hungry. He's just grazing, at least, that's what freelancer calls it. Passive feeding. Like picking a few chocolate chips before they get mixed into the bowl, licking cake batter off the whisk, tasting a fingertip of frosting while it bakes in the oven; not necessary, just a taste, but nice nonetheless.
A foretaste of what's to come-
He smirks at that.
Their attraction feels whole, rich, indulgent. Warm, yes, but not hot. Dark, but not bitter. Sweet, but not overpoweringly so - if Caelum says happiness is cotton candy, then this is red velvet; dark chocolate, a full-bodied wine aged to perfection. There's a complexity to it. It's not just one flavour, there are undertones, top notes, it comes with a subtle first hit and settles with a slightly savoury aftertaste; saline, almost, but only in the sense that it draws something out of him and makes him want more.
More of them, more of this, more pleasure, more emotion, more energy.
They're everything. They're everywhere. Filling every thought, every breath, every sensation - but it's not enough.
And it's driving him fucking insane.
They've been here for forty minutes - but it feels like it's been hours. They're half dressed, half undressed, on the sofa of the freelancer's apartment. Their shirts are...somewhere else. They lost them a while ago, neither can remember where. Various pieces of clothing lie strewn across the room, leaving a trail from the hallway. Gavin can feel the sexual energy in the room, it's practically buzzing, and he doesn't know what it is, but he wonders if he's ever wanted them as bad as he does right now.
There’s a rhythm to it - their emotional energy. It's not coming in waves per se, it's more subtle than that. Their pleasure radiates from them like heat, a kind of static energy, a steady hum like the noise the 'micro-wave' in the freelancer's kitchen makes; round and round, again, and again, and again... magic: vibrating, resonating, compounding upon and suffusing with his own and heating up and-
"Ah-" they chide, lifting their hips up from his and stopping him from getting the friction he was instinctively moving towards. They've been teasing him for what feels like an eternity, he can't help but let slip a moan that comes out more like a whine at the sudden loss of contact. They're denying him. Deliberately.
How dare they.
"Deviant-" he breathes, before they stop him with a kiss, capturing his moans in their mouth, swallowing them - if he can feed on their energy, they can surely do the same.
The kiss is heady, needy, deep. He wants them, he wants all of them. He wants them beneath him, above him, beside, between, he wants to have and hold every curve, every edge, every angle, he wants to wrap himself around and lose himself within every inch of them-
He wants them now. And he knows they want it too.
He lifts one of his hands from their waist to hold their head - thumb at the side of their face, fingers gripping the back of their neck, pulling them closer, tighter, lower-
"Not yet" they smirk against his lips.
Gavin smiles too, wide, open, honest. It's happy and lovestruck yet lust-fuelled and sensual all at once. Oh, he loves them. He loves this. But he doesn't know how much longer he can stand it. He kisses them back once more - slowly, as ever - before they start moving lower, planting open mouthed kisses from this throat down and along his sternum. His back instinctively arches off the couch, breath hitching, hips grinding against theirs for just a second before they pull away again and-
"Fuck-"
They hum a laugh in response - dark, deep, devious, "Not yet..."
Just a snap of his fingers, that's all it would take. He thinks for a moment, considering it. It would be cheating, of course...they agreed no shortcuts this time. They've been too quick lately, and they wanted to draw this out.
Still, he pictures their eyes widening as they always do when he pulls that parlour trick. The sudden exposure, momentary vulnerability - acceptance. A slow, sensual striptease is one thing, gradually removing your lover's clothing piece by piece another, but taking it all away at once with magic? Oh, he loves magic. He can't help it, he needs them, needs to touch and taste and guide and claim and he opens his hand and his thumb touches his fingertip and he presses and-
He grins, and groans. Their fingertips push through his own, interlacing, interlocking, interrupting.
"You - you did that on purpose"
"I don't know what you're talking about" they smile against his skin. They're breathless too - he can hear it, hissing as their teeth graze that spot just below his ear before they capture his lips in another kiss, pushing his hands up , pinning them above his head with ease. He let them hold him down, of course he did. He'll always let them win if it's what they want. His deviant, his freelancer, his love. He would do anything for them.
The kiss slows, deepening, and just when he thinks they're about to pull away they catch his lower lip between their teeth and tug - earning another moan and a shiver from him, and another devious laugh from his freelancer. He's going out of his fucking mind.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" His tone is surprisingly even despite his staggered breaths. Effortlessly sensual, yet deep, dark, and wanting. Every sensation is going through the roof, every touch point between them burns, every moment of skin-to-skin contact like an electric shock to his core.
Finally, mercifully, they pull back for the first time since they arrived home. They're breathless. Their lips are slightly swollen, reddened. Eyes hooded, dark, wide-blown pupils watching him with a look that could only be understood as pure, unadulterated lust - were it not for the undercurrent of genuine and honest love and openness that Gavin could sense coming off of them. He looks at them the same way, breathing heavily, hands loosening from their grip and settling instead on their hips, he just wishes they could feel his love for them the way he can feel theirs.
They're still hovering a few inches above him, straddling his hips with their own. God he wishes he could close the gap, but he's tried several times before, unsuccessfully. He lifts a hand to hold their chin, thumb gently grazing their mouth before they take the digit between their lips, sucking gently and -oh
Gavin can't help the moan that escapes him at that, mind suddenly filled with a mixture of thoughts, memories and desires - other places he'd prefer to feel their lips closing around...
"It's almost as if you've had practice with that sort of thing" he smirks, locking eyes with them. The heat between them is unmistakable, he wants to switch places, wants to take control, wants to make them feel good, to fill every corner of their mind with pleasure - with him - until there's nothing left but the two of them together: one flesh.
They pull back slowly, his thumb brushing their lower lip once again before he tilts their chin upwards, holding them in place. His other thumb kneads gently into the crease of their hip as he sits up effortlessly, moving them back slightly to sit on his thighs so they're eye to eye, looking at them with a slightly narrowed gaze. They don't need to hear his thoughts to know what he's saying - he's testing the waters, suggesting, proposing, eyes scanning theirs for some sign of approval.
He's had enough teasing. They both have.
They slow their breathing so it syncs with his own.
Is this what they want? Compromise?
Eyes locked, he moves his other hand, tracing their hip bone before moving lower, to the space between them, his eyes constantly flitting between theirs, watching attentively for their reaction so he can respond and adjust his touch accordingly. A small gasp escapes them as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of their underwear, moving, pressing in just where they want him and -
"oh-"
There it is.
Their eyelids flicker, vision blurring just for a moment as they moan, muscles relaxing somewhat at his touch, before closing their eyes in pleasure. He smirks in satisfaction:
They broke his gaze, they lost the staring contest. He's won.
He's quick to move then, pushing them onto their back, hovering over them. He tilts their head to the side for better access and ducks down to kiss their neck - soft at first, then harsher, teeth grazing the skin. His other hand wanders as he matches the pace of his kisses with the movements of his fingers against them.
"I asked you a question deviant," he breathes out between tongued kisses, relishing in the feeling of them writhing beneath him before speaking directly into their ear, "Do you have any. idea. what you do to me?" There's a roughness, a growl to his tone that wasn't there before. One that matches the fire deep set in his core. Tension, unbecoming.
All they can manage is a breathy moan in response, hips involuntarily bucking into his hand-
"Gavin- fuck-"
"Maybe later" he smirks, drawing back much to their dissatisfaction. There's a flush to their cheeks that wasn't there before. He’s only fair, giving them a turn to whine at the sudden loss of friction as he lifts his fingers from them, moving to play with the waistband of their underwear,
“May I?”
Say less - they nod breathlessly at him, lifting their hips slightly so he can work the last remaining pieces of their clothing down their legs before throwing them away. He takes a moment then to look at them then - splayed out underneath him, the flush from their cheeks now burning hot down their neck to their chest, the hollow at the base of their ribs rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths, skin glowing, damp with sweat…
“Look at you…” he muses - quietly, almost under his breath before his eyes are drawn back to theirs.
“I want to touch you, to taste you…” the shiver that flashed over their skin was unmistakable, goosebumps rising under his fingertips as he traced delicate patterns down their torso, “god I want to worship - every - inch of you…”
His thumb presses the deft of their hip, their leg lifting ever so slightly to grant him better access as he hovers over them. He knows where they want him - he just wants to hear them ask him for it.
“Gavin-”
He leans closer, lips brushing against theirs, fingers teasing right where he knows they want him and god, they’re warm and slick and ready,
"Ask me…”
He’ll give them anything they ask for, always, he'd give them the world if they wanted it,
“Touch me-”
Fingers pressing in and their head rolls backward and they moan and he kisses their throat and fuck - fuck,
“Tell me what you want, deviant…”
He didn’t know it could feel like this - they're the only one who makes him feel-
"More"