Ossie gasps in delight at the first tear of fabric, voicing every scrape and every brush. He was gently exaggerating, but Phil will see plainly that it wasn't by much as his straining cock through his undergarments is exposed. He tries to rest a hand on Phil just for the sake of contact and encouragement, helping Phil expose more skin to the air with a small shift wherever he can.
"Not at all," he sounds a little breathless, "by all means- we can take our time with the other parts."
Off goes the other pant leg, and the only thing in his way from the hips down is the man's undergarments, visibly tented. Phil makes this low sound in the back of his throat as he closes his right eye and turns his head slightly so he can look at it without interference from his cataracts.
"Aren't you pretty," he huffs. He has a brief thought about just taking that all in his mouth right now. Having a muzzle means it won't reach his throat, and he can press it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue--no, but it means he wouldn't be able to put these teeth to good use.
Which, Ossie's sweater and tie are in the way of that, so don't mind Phil as he moves up and presses his knee in against his crotch so he can reach up and tear off the sweater vest, not a care for any bruising or scratching he leaves along the way. His head twists to the side for better leverage like an animal ripping skin from a carcass.
"I am, yes," Ossie agrees, being a good lad and staying still even as Phil pins his cock with his knee. Whatever pain the bruises or scratches inflicts is all subsumed in Ossie's arousal, little gasps and sweet sounds accompanying each. This is Ossie's favourite place to be. Under someone else's ministrations, letting them take whatever they want from him.
A hand carefully goes to Phil's tie, and he pulls it just a little, just to see what Phil does. He might be the one now nearly naked on the bed, but he still has some say over the situation.
Good, good, all good sounds; Phil had been playing up the whole animal hunger thing for the theatrics of it, but now he's finding it becoming a little less of an act. Ossie makes himself awfully enticing, and there isn't much reason for Phil to resist. He wants it rough.
"Ng--" Phil is tugged out of his building frenzy by a tug forward on the neck, a breath escaping him. Phil blinks at him, with his stilled hands bunched up in the shirt he was about to tear the buttons from. Ossie wants his attention. For what? Does he need to pull back, dive in harder? Be redirected?
(It's not intentional, but the whole fox thing makes him look remarkably like an animal leashed and brought to heel.)
Oh, that feels good. Just one tug and Ossie has his whole and complete attention. He can't help the wry grin that peels itself from him- Phil is going to be a diversion that he spends a good deal of time amusing himself with, he can feel it.
"Good man," Ossie praises, "just as you were doing, marvellous work."
Phil grins at the praise. Doesn’t even try to move to take his tie out of Ossie’s hand as he goes back into it, claws digging into his sternum as he reaches in to tear his shirt open. Ossie’s tie gets undone with impatient hands, and then his smooth body is all free reign.
(Except for where Phil’s left his undergarments on, of course.)
A yellow tongue licks a slow stripe from navel to collarbone, claws pressing into ribs. When he’s at the top, he sits up a little. “Right, so—for my own ease of mind, just let me know how far I can go. I’m not biting your dick off, but, do you expect… I don’t know, blood drawn?”
Ossie hums, glancing down as if to confirm that the bastard is continuing to draw things out.
"While I pride myself on my pain threshold, let's give you something nice and easy to stick to. Marks and bruises, yes, blood, no. Nothing too risky on our first dalliance, either- choking, for instance. While we're at it, are you happy with our positions as is? Or would you prefer something more or less defined? I can play anything you'd like, you were certainly generous in granting my wishes, after all."
"No, no, this is good. Thank you, that makes me feel a lot better."
And for that, of course, he's going to go ahead and make out with Ossie, muzzle and all. It's the natural course of action. Bit messy, too, considering he hasn't really got cheeks.
And then back to business. Phil pulls away and removes his knee; bending down, he grips Ossie's undergarments with his teeth, meeting his eyes, and jerks upwards with a grunt to tear it away in tandem with his claws.
Ah, teeth. Ossie happily sucks on Phil's tongue, kissing around his muzzle, pleased for the challenge of kissing something other than a human face. When Phil moves away, he lays back, waiting patiently. There's not a single trace of hair on any of the rest of Ossie's body, and this includes at his crotch. But what Phil will find is that he's already got a plug in. Ossie stretches languidly, clearly pleased with himself, purring-
"I took it upon myself to prepare myself. Just thought it might be difficult with the talons, you know."
Phil feels the wind knocked out of him at the sight. He’s—Christ, shit, that’s—where on the ship did he even get that, did Friday hand him a box straight out of the Erda—?
“Jesus Christ,” he marvels breathlessly, as he realizes that Ossie had that in him that the whole time while they were in the bar. Was walking with it. Was sat in his arms with it. If Phil wasn’t hard already, that’s definitely done the job. “I, um—yeah, that’s, I was wondering—very considerate, thank you.”
He spends another beat just staring hungrily at Ossie before his hand reaches down to undo his belt, metal clinking as the buckle comes loose. Off comes the clasp of his pants, the zipper, the boxers, until his own cock meets the air; it’s kind of a lot of layers, but he always enjoyed being unwrapped.
Phil produces a condom from his jacket pocket and slips it on, and picks up a bottle of lube from the end table to drizzle it over his fingers. He meets Ossie’s eyes and, just for show, runs his tongue over the back teeth as he slicks himself up.
When he’s done, the same hand brushes against Ossie’s entrance, leaving wet traces. “M’kay. Ready, darling?”
The cottage can produce many simple amenities. Still, that is precisely the reaction that he was after, and Ossie luxuriates in the glut of Glamour that drips from it.
"I do aim to please," he beams, letting Phil take his time sorting out his own clothes. God, he loves getting to lay back and do nothing.
Ossie rests his head back on the pillow, looking up at Phil half-lidded.
"Even more than I already was, if you keep calling me that, my dear."
Phil puts his claws around the plug, and slowly, carefully, slides it out. Watching Ossie fold around it as it’s removed is—hell, he hasn’t laid with anyone in a year and a half and he’s pretty sure it shows. There’s not much he can do about the hoarse noise he makes or the tightening grip of his other hand on his hip.
Phil puts it down on the end table. He settles in between Ossie’s legs, gets comfortable, makes sure he’s lined up; his tip finds the entrance, and when he pushes in, he holds his breath.
Phil is already just delightful, but hearing the hoarseness of his cry is scintillating. It occurs to Ossie that he might be Phil's first lay in a while only after it. Sex isn't a need like food or drink, but it is certainly a very deep want in the same way people crave companionship and friendship. Skin to skin, feeling Phil's body heat through his clothes and inside him. Sex is a way to know someone as conversation or dancing with them is, and Ossie's hand goes to Phil's. paw? Paw, on his hip.
"Worth the wait, definitely worth the wait- how do you feel?"
He only exhales when he’s well and seated in. Sex isn’t a need by any means, no, but it sure as hell is nice in his book, and after so long on his own, just sitting here with the feeling of Ossie around him is doing weird and new things to his brain chemistry.
“The wait,” he chuckles, “gee, what a compliment. I’m doing great.” (A massive understatement, if the Glamour he’s bleeding is anything to go by.) “What about you? Good so far?”
"Phil, you could have pinned me to the wall without warning at random and I would have been thrilled, and instead you dragged me out to a bar first," he whines. Then laughs, dropping the tone.
"Don't worry, you're doing marvellously. I genuinely doubt you could do anything wrong at this point- keep going."
“Okay. Hear you loud and clear.” With the go-ahead, Phil begins to rock, the slower pace with which he starts as much for his own benefit as it is for Ossie’s. This isn’t the kind of place where he’s game to just dive into the deep end, especially with how worked up he already is; better to ease in and pace himself.
When he finds a rhythm comfortable enough to split his attention, he leans down to kiss at Ossie again. More of getting his tongue sucked, please and thank you.
"Is that a promise? You know I take those seriously," he teases, but makes no motion whatsoever towards binding it in any way. He's not that kind of person. Not with someone he likes, in any case.
Finally some real friction. Ossie moans happily, more than content to lie back and take it. The pressure, the heat, the feeling of Phil still clothed against him- oh hello, there he is, handsome grey muzzle and all. A hand goes up to gently rub Phil's ear between his thumb and finger, and he resumes his business acquainting himself with Phil's mouth. Warm breath and moisture, the feeling of teeth against his lips, Phil's broad tongue- if he was in the habit of altering certain portions of himself with Contracts, he might be curious about what it would be like to be eaten out with it. Pity he isn't.
His ear flicks in Ossie's hand. Between that and the kissing and being seated in him like he is (God, is he tight or is Phil just not used to this), Ossie's starting to push all his buttons, already ratcheting up his arousal and impatience. He groans against his lips at the same time the pace starts to pick up.
"Gladly," he rasps, and leans over to clamp his teeth around his throat, inching up the pressure until either he gets anxious or Ossie starts making pretty sounds.
Ossie vocalizes more as the pace picks up- he wants nothing more than to drive Phil wild, to let him cut loose and stop worrying so much about being a gentleman. He hoots at the teeth in his neck, accidentally tugging on his ear out of lust.
"Yes- there you are- ohh good man, there we are- come on- I didn't take you home for chit-chat-"
Later he might be slightly concerned at how quickly he fell into this, but at the moment, all of Ossie’s encouragement and praise and noise is lancing straight through him. He wants him like this—wants to feel him like this, and Phil is going to give him everything he wants. His ears swivel and flick at how vocal he’s being, and he grunts into Ossie as his ear’s tugged.
His teeth pull off for just a moment to press down again in a firmer hold, hot breath and wet tongue against Ossie’s skin; meanwhile a hand goes up to pin one of his wrists where it is against the mattress.
"God's wounds, man- yes- like that-" Ossie allows himself to go pliant, moved by Phil however he so pleases. He's getting wrung out like a towel- his favourite thing. Even if Phil's concerned later, Ossie isn't- it's perfect, it's everything he wanted out of this.
His animal throat makes some truly unconscionable noises, claws digging into Ossie’s wrist while the other tries to somehow haul his hips closer. His pace is practically pressing him flat against the mattress. It’s so much, it’s so much—
Phil’s jaws pull off, trailing lines of drool through his teeth just so he can rasp out, “Ossie—Ossie, darling, beautiful thing, I’m getting close—“
"Good- I'm fine, you- go on-" Ossie moans in the affirmative, trying to press his hips closer to Phil, his cock a gladly neglected casualty in getting to see Phil turn loose like this.
Permission. Permission, yes, and it’s not fair yet, but he’ll give this back to him just fine, he knows—anything Ossie wants he’s going to get here. Anything at all, it’s his—
It’s only a little while longer; the muscle over his stomach tightens, Phil plants himself in deep and gives a broken wail so Ossie knows exactly what he’s doing to him as the tension in him finally snaps apart.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-02-26 01:27 am (UTC)"Not at all," he sounds a little breathless, "by all means- we can take our time with the other parts."
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Date: 2024-02-26 01:41 am (UTC)"Aren't you pretty," he huffs. He has a brief thought about just taking that all in his mouth right now. Having a muzzle means it won't reach his throat, and he can press it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue--no, but it means he wouldn't be able to put these teeth to good use.
Which, Ossie's sweater and tie are in the way of that, so don't mind Phil as he moves up and presses his knee in against his crotch so he can reach up and tear off the sweater vest, not a care for any bruising or scratching he leaves along the way. His head twists to the side for better leverage like an animal ripping skin from a carcass.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-26 02:34 am (UTC)A hand carefully goes to Phil's tie, and he pulls it just a little, just to see what Phil does. He might be the one now nearly naked on the bed, but he still has some say over the situation.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-26 03:05 am (UTC)"Ng--" Phil is tugged out of his building frenzy by a tug forward on the neck, a breath escaping him. Phil blinks at him, with his stilled hands bunched up in the shirt he was about to tear the buttons from. Ossie wants his attention. For what? Does he need to pull back, dive in harder? Be redirected?
(It's not intentional, but the whole fox thing makes him look remarkably like an animal leashed and brought to heel.)
no subject
Date: 2024-02-26 03:11 am (UTC)"Good man," Ossie praises, "just as you were doing, marvellous work."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-26 10:44 am (UTC)(Except for where Phil’s left his undergarments on, of course.)
A yellow tongue licks a slow stripe from navel to collarbone, claws pressing into ribs. When he’s at the top, he sits up a little. “Right, so—for my own ease of mind, just let me know how far I can go. I’m not biting your dick off, but, do you expect… I don’t know, blood drawn?”
no subject
Date: 2024-02-27 05:08 am (UTC)"While I pride myself on my pain threshold, let's give you something nice and easy to stick to. Marks and bruises, yes, blood, no. Nothing too risky on our first dalliance, either- choking, for instance. While we're at it, are you happy with our positions as is? Or would you prefer something more or less defined? I can play anything you'd like, you were certainly generous in granting my wishes, after all."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-27 07:14 pm (UTC)And for that, of course, he's going to go ahead and make out with Ossie, muzzle and all. It's the natural course of action. Bit messy, too, considering he hasn't really got cheeks.
And then back to business. Phil pulls away and removes his knee; bending down, he grips Ossie's undergarments with his teeth, meeting his eyes, and jerks upwards with a grunt to tear it away in tandem with his claws.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-27 10:58 pm (UTC)"I took it upon myself to prepare myself. Just thought it might be difficult with the talons, you know."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-27 11:35 pm (UTC)“Jesus Christ,” he marvels breathlessly, as he realizes that Ossie had that in him that the whole time while they were in the bar. Was walking with it. Was sat in his arms with it. If Phil wasn’t hard already, that’s definitely done the job. “I, um—yeah, that’s, I was wondering—very considerate, thank you.”
He spends another beat just staring hungrily at Ossie before his hand reaches down to undo his belt, metal clinking as the buckle comes loose. Off comes the clasp of his pants, the zipper, the boxers, until his own cock meets the air; it’s kind of a lot of layers, but he always enjoyed being unwrapped.
Phil produces a condom from his jacket pocket and slips it on, and picks up a bottle of lube from the end table to drizzle it over his fingers. He meets Ossie’s eyes and, just for show, runs his tongue over the back teeth as he slicks himself up.
When he’s done, the same hand brushes against Ossie’s entrance, leaving wet traces. “M’kay. Ready, darling?”
no subject
Date: 2024-02-27 11:45 pm (UTC)"I do aim to please," he beams, letting Phil take his time sorting out his own clothes. God, he loves getting to lay back and do nothing.
Ossie rests his head back on the pillow, looking up at Phil half-lidded.
"Even more than I already was, if you keep calling me that, my dear."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-28 12:13 am (UTC)Phil puts it down on the end table. He settles in between Ossie’s legs, gets comfortable, makes sure he’s lined up; his tip finds the entrance, and when he pushes in, he holds his breath.
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Date: 2024-02-28 12:29 am (UTC)"Worth the wait, definitely worth the wait- how do you feel?"
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Date: 2024-02-28 12:40 am (UTC)“The wait,” he chuckles, “gee, what a compliment. I’m doing great.” (A massive understatement, if the Glamour he’s bleeding is anything to go by.) “What about you? Good so far?”
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Date: 2024-02-28 12:48 am (UTC)"Don't worry, you're doing marvellously. I genuinely doubt you could do anything wrong at this point- keep going."
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Date: 2024-02-28 01:08 am (UTC)“Okay. Hear you loud and clear.” With the go-ahead, Phil begins to rock, the slower pace with which he starts as much for his own benefit as it is for Ossie’s. This isn’t the kind of place where he’s game to just dive into the deep end, especially with how worked up he already is; better to ease in and pace himself.
When he finds a rhythm comfortable enough to split his attention, he leans down to kiss at Ossie again. More of getting his tongue sucked, please and thank you.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-02 05:01 am (UTC)Finally some real friction. Ossie moans happily, more than content to lie back and take it. The pressure, the heat, the feeling of Phil still clothed against him- oh hello, there he is, handsome grey muzzle and all. A hand goes up to gently rub Phil's ear between his thumb and finger, and he resumes his business acquainting himself with Phil's mouth. Warm breath and moisture, the feeling of teeth against his lips, Phil's broad tongue- if he was in the habit of altering certain portions of himself with Contracts, he might be curious about what it would be like to be eaten out with it. Pity he isn't.
"Bite my neck?" he asks, separating slightly.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-03 02:05 pm (UTC)"Gladly," he rasps, and leans over to clamp his teeth around his throat, inching up the pressure until either he gets anxious or Ossie starts making pretty sounds.
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Date: 2024-03-09 06:50 am (UTC)Ossie vocalizes more as the pace picks up- he wants nothing more than to drive Phil wild, to let him cut loose and stop worrying so much about being a gentleman. He hoots at the teeth in his neck, accidentally tugging on his ear out of lust.
"Yes- there you are- ohh good man, there we are- come on- I didn't take you home for chit-chat-"
no subject
Date: 2024-03-09 11:24 am (UTC)His teeth pull off for just a moment to press down again in a firmer hold, hot breath and wet tongue against Ossie’s skin; meanwhile a hand goes up to pin one of his wrists where it is against the mattress.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-11 11:07 am (UTC)"Yes- yes- yes- come on- you marvel, you wonder-"
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Date: 2024-03-11 11:27 am (UTC)Phil’s jaws pull off, trailing lines of drool through his teeth just so he can rasp out, “Ossie—Ossie, darling, beautiful thing, I’m getting close—“
no subject
Date: 2024-03-11 11:33 am (UTC)"Come on- inside me- come on-"
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Date: 2024-03-11 11:56 am (UTC)It’s only a little while longer; the muscle over his stomach tightens, Phil plants himself in deep and gives a broken wail so Ossie knows exactly what he’s doing to him as the tension in him finally snaps apart.