In Motion
by Buffonia

Andy is skilled in his movements. Elijah wonders if he's always been that way or if it's something newly learned. But Elijah notices that Andy's very precise when coupled with motion. Very purposeful. Every action has its reason and distinct sequence of events on Andy's body.

For instance.

Elijah's half-chilled yet feverish, with one foot kicked over the sheets and the rest of him naked for the cool night air. Andy says he'll get some tea, curves his spine to propel out of the bed and walks with light-footed grace towards the kitchen. He never scuffles his bare feet, as Elijah always does, across the bedroom floor. Andy doesn't rush in anything.


When he comes back with no tea but with some peanut butter crackers and a sly sideways grin, Andy abandons the plate on the nightstand and crawls to Elijah with a new purpose. The way his dutiful muscles respond, flexing and relaxing and engaging as Andy stalks across the bed linens on knees and palms, is a beautiful thing to watch, Elijah decides.

And maybe every body that has ever made its way to Elijah on a mattress has done the same thing, but the fact that Elijah has only taken notice, and appreciation, and fascination with Andy's body, in even the simplest of tasks, lends credence to the first theory. Or at least gives credit to the fact that Andy has a special way about him.

Andy is very good at controlling other bodies too. Sliding one hand up the underside of Elijah's right arm, his calloused fingers almost scrape the near transparent paleness on the way to Elijah's wrist. Elijah turns over with little resistance and is rewarded with Andy's stable weight upon him. His kneecaps fit perfectly in the soft joints behind Elijah's before finally resting within the open triangle of Elijah's legs.

"Time to burn that fever out of you, pet." Even Andy's warm, coaxing hands feel uncomfortably cool on the sickly hot skin of Elijah's thighs and upwards and between.

Elijah's gasp is muted by the goose feather pillow when Andy pushes into him.

Andy rides Elijah like a carefully choreographed marionette doll, hands moving in coordinated gestures, in tempo with firm legs (knees gliding against inner thigh.) He moves just like he moves in all his other work, strong and slow. His lips brush the curls behind Elijah's ear and send shivers down to where his thumb presses into Elijah's left cheek.

With each push and moan, Elijah breathes faster and the fever seems farther away. Andy finds their climax and holds on to it for Elijah, bringing him there and waiting for him at the same time. Because anything Andy touches becomes an extension of himself.

It's almost like dancing, the way they fuck. It's easy to find a rhythm with Andy; and Elijah knows to let him lead.


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