wash/york, a kiss along the hips. prompt from turian-tsuntsun.
i did say i wanted to write dom!wash fic… coughs. nsfw, set in wastelancers verse because that’s the established dom!wash/sub!york verse i have.
York hasn’t stopped moaning for a good few minutes now, and Wash hasn’t even touched his cock. He grins. Nips another mark against his hipbone, a fresh one that goes nicely with the crisscross pattern of fingermarks he’d left earlier. Curls his fingers again just to feel York’s fingers tighten in his hair.
"God, Wash, your hands—” York chokes out, and then Wash’s thumb presses tight against his taint and he’s all moans again. Wash chuckles and trails his kisses down the arch of York’s hip, idly swirling his tongue against a pressure point just to hear him whimper.
"Well, if it’s just my hands you’re interested in,” he starts, drawing his mouth back, and York tugs at his head, needy. Wash hums, buries his face in the crook of his hips, bites at his thigh. Hasn’t made enough marks there yet, and he’s occupied for a moment sucking at tender skin, leaving a hickey York’ll see every time he takes off his pants. If Wash ever lets him put pants back on, anyway.
He twists his fingers in York’s ass— he’s up to three, now, and York’s just about losing it. “Wash— Wash, please, I’ve been good—”
"You have," Wash allows. He hums against his skin as he leaves feather-light kisses along his other hip. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you— mmm.”
His lips slide down around York’s cock, tongue curling under his head and lapping up the precome that’s been leaking down his shaft. York jerks beneath him, moaning and bucking his hips up into his mouth, and Wash swallows him easily, letting him do as he likes after so long being denied. It’s how things work, Wash teasing and holding back until York’s mindless with want, and it’s so good they can barely keep themselves from stopping.
York clutches at him tighter, and Wash takes the hint and quickens his pace, fucking him open with his fingers. A few more rough strokes and York spills hot down his throat, wordless moans tearing from his lips, and Wash works him through it with long swallows and licks until he’s spent.
God, he loves seeing York all sprawled out and sated after he’s come, and Wash grins as he drinks in the sight, knowing it’s all for him, and his own cock throbs between his thighs. “You don’t know how good you look,” Wash murmurs.
York smirks up at him. “So tell me.” York kind of looks of like his limbs are made of jelly, after an orgasm that good, but when he lifts his arm to take off the blindfold, Wash pins his wrist to the bed.
He can see York’s breath catch in his throat. And now he’s the one smirking.
"I’ll tell you when I damn well want to," Wash says, his voice dropping to that low, dark tone that means they’re nowhere close to being done. “Turn over. And leave the blindfold on.”
rebloggin’ for the evening crew c: