"Cool." It might seem like a very nonchalant, uninvested response... until he does use that grip to pull Jesus up. Not sharply enough to actually hurt him, but it's an insistent tug designed to force the other man to rise back onto his knees.
The position is just like before, except that Drake's on his back now. Which makes the suggestion he's about to make (which doesn't sound at all like a suggestion) quite a bit more interesting.
Drake gives a low hum of approval, smiling and watching Jesus' expression as his hands work lower. Getting warmer... he keeps hold of the other man's hair with one hand and lifts the other to the collar of his shirt, working the buttons open with the same teasing slowness Jesus is subjecting him to.
He raises an eyebrow, grinning as he slowly unfastens Drake's pants. He pauses to get the lotion, to dribble some of it on Drake's stomach, get his hands soft and slick.
"This is why I could never go pro with this," he teases. "Get a hot guy under my hands, pulling my hair, and this is what happens."
"Wait a minute... why's the client pulling your hair during a massage?" he asks with a playfully exaggerated confusion, still slowly undoing buttons despite the anticipation of those skilled hands in more fun places. "Sounds to me like you knew what you were getting into there."
"Seems like people can't help it. It's why I put it up," he jokes, and raises up slightly, urging Drake to lift his hips so he can jerk his pants down a bit and have full access to him.
That's a clear hint that Drake takes without hesitation, lifting his hips as he laughs at Jesus' claim.
"So this is all my fault, huh?"
The last button pops open beneath his fingers, Jesus' shirt falling to either side. That's better. Now Drake can drag a caress up the other man's torso, just firm enough to keep from tickling but light enough to make him arch into the touch seeking more.
At first the only reply Jesus gets is Drake's breath hitching, his hold on Jesus' hair easing slightly on instinct so that he doesn't hurt the other man. Drake is careful about things like that -- but it's only for a moment, for that first agonizingly slow stroke. Then the tension in him releases with a sigh of pleasure, his hips pressing up against Jesus' weight seeking more attention.
"Go however you want," he groans, reestablishing his grip and sliding his other hand around to Jesus' back. "Right now I just want you."
He licks his lips, fingertips pressing into the curve of muscle along Jesus' spine as if he's getting a grip there too. It's not clear for what, and maybe he's only not pulling just yet because he likes this view... but probably soon.
"All I needed to hear," he tells him warmly, working more studiously now to get Drake hard in his hand. He uses his free hand to start unfastening his own pants, but it's tricky and he doesn't want to let go of Drake so he winks at him. "Help me out?"
Right this second? With Jesus working him so intently? That might require more fine motor control than Drake has at the moment but he nods agreeably anyway, taking a shuddering breath in as his body responds to the other man's touch.
It never takes much, and at this point Jesus knows all the right buttons to push. He's doomed, really. Only one thing to do about that: fight fire with fire.
Drake moves quickly, hoping to catch his partner off guard as he uses the hold he's got to pull Jesus both in against him and to one side -- it's almost more of a flip than a roll, with how suddenly it happens. And then Jesus is on his back, Drake braced between his legs and holding himself up with the hand that was in his hair, the other obliging his request for help. He smirks, rocking his hips into Jesus' grip as he gets the other man's pants open.
"Thought you liked that," Drake murmurs, savoring the rush as Jesus ups the ante in turn. Some people will say sex gets boring with an established partner because you start to predict how it's going to go, and he's always disagreed. You're always learning -- in life, in relationships, in bed -- and people aren't static. Couples change each other, building trust can make familiarity comforting, yes, but it can also mean you're willing to get creative.
They're learning each other, but no encounter can or should ever be exactly the same as another. Drake leans closer, free hand splayed on Jesus' chest to feel his heartbeat.
"And it's fun keep--" The words catch in his throat as Jesus' fingers squeeze them together. "Mm... gotta keep you guessing a little... do that again?"
"I do like that," he promises, breathing a little slower now as he gazes up at Drake. He obliges, squeezing just so as he pumps them slowly. "You like that?" All he wants in this moment is to hear Drake's speech catch like that again.
At first the only response Jesus gets is an affirmative little 'mhmm' as Drake dips his head to kiss him again. He's also stroking down Jesus' torso, stopping just long enough to roll a nipple between his fingers before tracing his ribs down to the curve of Jesus' waist... then lower, Drake slipping his hand under the smaller man's waistband to squeeze his ass skin to skin.
"I do," he murmurs against Jesus' lips, rocking their hips together. "I like everything you do to me."
"We should talk about the things you do to me," he murmurs, eyes half-closed as he gets himself hard, feeling the warm pressure of Drake's cock against his. Fuck but he likes this, likes watching Drake's reactions more. "But we should get our pants off."
"Yeah? Go ahead and talk about it," Drake encourages him, nuzzling and kissing along Jesus' throat as they squirm against each other. "I could use the incentive to let go of you long enough for that."
"I like how when you're getting inside me, you look at me," he murmurs, chin up and head back, wanting to encourage Drake's mouth. "I like that I never have to tell you not to bite. I like how you call me 'babe'."
He reaches down with his free hand, pushing at Drake's jeans clumsily.
Drake laughs softly against Jesus' throat, the sound rumbling between them as he kisses his way to that soft, sensitive spot under the other man's ear.
"That's 'cuz I like watching you," he admits, though that's not all of it. He likes knowing that it's good for Jesus, that he's wanted this way. "And I could call you other things..."
It would seem Jesus is getting a little impatient, though? Drake lifts his head to smirk at him, giving his ass another playful squeeze while not making any move to help get their pants off.
His breath comes as a sigh when Drake finds that space; there's a spot just below it, midway down his neck, that drives him wild, and he stretches up, offering it to him.
"Love how hard you pound me when you know I'm comfortable," he writhes up against him. But even more than that, Jesus likes being teased, and Drake has it exactly right just now. "Love when you get going so hard I can barely breathe."
Drake takes that hint, letting his mouth drag down to where Jesus wants his attention. They both love teasing, luckily. That was one of the first things Drake learned about Jesus... that, and this spot on his neck, and just how rough he likes it.
"Mm. You can take it," he notes, pressing an infuriatingly light kiss to Jesus' neck. "You should see yourself."
It's a beautiful view, in Drake's opinion. But at the moment he's more curious about the sounds than the sights, as he rocks into Jesus' grip again and sucks at the soft skin beneath his lips. No teeth, of course, just lips and tongue, but there's still going to be a mark left behind.
"We could find a place with a mirror on the ceil- Ah, fu-" The pressure of Drake's mouth on that spot knocks the words out of him, leaving him moaning softly as he presses up against him. Jesus is a notoriously quiet person in bed; he goes out of his way to muffle any cries he does make. But that spot, without fail, if you can catch him off guard melts him like butter.
Unfortunately for Drake, yes, Jesus is very quiet. But he understands the why, and quiet doesn't necessarily mean restrained. As much as Drake would love to find a way to make the other man lose control over his volume someday, it's just as hot when he reacts like this. His hum of approval muffled by Jesus' neck, Drake lets his weight down just a little so that he can drop onto his elbow and sink his fingers into Jesus' hair. Tug his head to the side. Suck a little harder, before releasing the pressure with a lick and blowing over the spot gently to soothe it.
"There's a mirror on the inside of the closet door," he reminds Jesus. It'd be easy to just... prop it open so it faces the bed.
"Uh huh," he says, dazed with the pleasure, and he takes a moment to look away from Drake to the door in question. He still has them both in one hand but for a moment he'd forgotten to move his hand, to do anything but surrender to the feel of Drake sucking that spot on his neck.
But he does know one thing: "I want to watch you fuck me."
Now that's motivating. Drake grins, stealing another quick kiss before pushing himself up and reclaiming his hands to get the rest of their clothing off. He pulls Jesus' pants and underwear down for him and tosses them off the bed, then stands to lose his own and go open the closet. Sure enough, all it takes is a boot on either side to keep it in the right position and Jesus has a clear view of himself where he's sitting.
This may or may not be something Drake's done before, to know the angle off the top of his head like this. Who can say?
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The position is just like before, except that Drake's on his back now. Which makes the suggestion he's about to make (which doesn't sound at all like a suggestion) quite a bit more interesting.
"Then how about you keep massaging?"
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He runs his hands silkily along Drake's chest and abdomen, then his hips where he massages slowly.
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Two can play this game, babe.
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"This is why I could never go pro with this," he teases. "Get a hot guy under my hands, pulling my hair, and this is what happens."
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"So this is all my fault, huh?"
The last button pops open beneath his fingers, Jesus' shirt falling to either side. That's better. Now Drake can drag a caress up the other man's torso, just firm enough to keep from tickling but light enough to make him arch into the touch seeking more.
"If I plead guilty will you go easy on me?"
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He wraps his hand around Drake's cock, stroking slowly.
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"Go however you want," he groans, reestablishing his grip and sliding his other hand around to Jesus' back. "Right now I just want you."
He licks his lips, fingertips pressing into the curve of muscle along Jesus' spine as if he's getting a grip there too. It's not clear for what, and maybe he's only not pulling just yet because he likes this view... but probably soon.
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It never takes much, and at this point Jesus knows all the right buttons to push. He's doomed, really. Only one thing to do about that: fight fire with fire.
Drake moves quickly, hoping to catch his partner off guard as he uses the hold he's got to pull Jesus both in against him and to one side -- it's almost more of a flip than a roll, with how suddenly it happens. And then Jesus is on his back, Drake braced between his legs and holding himself up with the hand that was in his hair, the other obliging his request for help. He smirks, rocking his hips into Jesus' grip as he gets the other man's pants open.
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They're learning each other, but no encounter can or should ever be exactly the same as another. Drake leans closer, free hand splayed on Jesus' chest to feel his heartbeat.
"And it's fun keep--" The words catch in his throat as Jesus' fingers squeeze them together. "Mm... gotta keep you guessing a little... do that again?"
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"I do," he murmurs against Jesus' lips, rocking their hips together. "I like everything you do to me."
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He reaches down with his free hand, pushing at Drake's jeans clumsily.
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"That's 'cuz I like watching you," he admits, though that's not all of it. He likes knowing that it's good for Jesus, that he's wanted this way. "And I could call you other things..."
It would seem Jesus is getting a little impatient, though? Drake lifts his head to smirk at him, giving his ass another playful squeeze while not making any move to help get their pants off.
"Dunno if I'm motivated yet, gorgeous."
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"Love how hard you pound me when you know I'm comfortable," he writhes up against him. But even more than that, Jesus likes being teased, and Drake has it exactly right just now. "Love when you get going so hard I can barely breathe."
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"Mm. You can take it," he notes, pressing an infuriatingly light kiss to Jesus' neck. "You should see yourself."
It's a beautiful view, in Drake's opinion. But at the moment he's more curious about the sounds than the sights, as he rocks into Jesus' grip again and sucks at the soft skin beneath his lips. No teeth, of course, just lips and tongue, but there's still going to be a mark left behind.
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"There's a mirror on the inside of the closet door," he reminds Jesus. It'd be easy to just... prop it open so it faces the bed.
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But he does know one thing: "I want to watch you fuck me."
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This may or may not be something Drake's done before, to know the angle off the top of his head like this. Who can say?
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