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No Better Time Than The Present

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Phillip wakes up with a small groan. He shivers, but it’s not from the cold draft emanating from the window. No, his body is trembling with arousal, as he was having quite the pleasant dream about Phineas, about his large, calloused hands roaming over his body, his warm lips kissing their way down to his– Sighing, Phillip blinks awake properly, looking up to the sleeping form of his partner. Phineas lays on his back, the covers down to his midsection, revealing only part of his muscular chest. His lips are slightly parted, soft breaths going in and out at regular intervals, indicating his deep sleep. His curly hair is mussed, one strand fallen across his left eye. He looks different when he sleeps. Younger, perhaps. But nonetheless handsome, devilishly so. It makes Phillip ache for him, even though he had been thoroughly satiated mere hours earlier. He lightly palms himself through his undergarments, but it’s not enough, not nearly. He could simply rub one out, go back to sleep. But how can he ignore this man next to him, the very one responsible for his current state. He groans again, feeling his cock demanding attention. Phillip can’t help but scoot closer, leaning in to inhale a lungful of that musky scent that is uniquely Phineas, mixed with remnants of their previous activities’ sweat. The smell sends searing heat to his groin, furthering Phillip’s throbbing arousal. Mind made up, Phillip shifts a leg over Phineas’, and slowly, cautiously, begins to rock against the older man’s leg. The friction is delicious, but he knows it soon won’t be enough. He can feel himself leaking already, one hand settling across Phineas’ chest and the other sliding down to pull his undergarments out of the way. His cock springs free, and Phillip immediately pulls himself flush against Phineas’ side. He moans breathlessly, feeling Phineas’ hot skin against his own burning one. It feels glorious, but still not enough, especially as Phineas makes a soft sound in his sleep that forces Phillip to bite down a whine. How can Phineas’ mere presence rile him up so? It should not be possible to feel such desire for one man as Phillip does for Phineas. It’s unfair, really. Still thrusting up and down against his leg, Phillip takes ahold of Phineas’ closest hand, and gently yet urgently guides it down to his pulsating cock. As it makes contact, Phillip presses his lips against Phineas’ shoulder to muffle a moan. That hand… Phillip sharply thrusts against it before closing its fingers around his shaft. From then, Phillip is lost to it, rocking into the loose fist with barely restrained movements, barely aware that he is trying to let Phineas sleep. Phillip tilts his head up and buries his nose in the crook of his partner’s throat, panting against the skin. He plants a soft kiss there, a contrast to his wild and uncoordinated thrusts below. He’s close, he can feel the liquid fire dripping inside of him. He just needs a little more. Phillip, almost on reflex, cups Phineas’ cheek and turns his head towards him. He’s so close now. He kisses Phineas’ parted lips, and as if on instinct, Phineas kisses him back. It pushes Phillip the extra inch to topple over the edge, quietly whimpering against the older man’s lips as he comes in thick, hot ribbons all over Phineas’ hand and leg. 

Panting from exertion, Phillip slumps against Phineas, who remains blissfully asleep. It makes Phillip huff in amusement at the thought of Phineas questioning the reason behind his sticky hand and leg in a few hours, before putting the pieces together and mock-scolding Phillip for the mess he’s made. Naturally, he’ll probably retaliate after, and doesn’t that just give a twitch to Phillip’s spent cock. Phillip almost groans. Again so soon? Perhaps Phineas is right when he tells Phillip that he is unquenchable. Insatiable. Voracious in his desires. Again, Phineas has no one but himself to blame. How can Phillip possibly not yearn and thirst for him as a man would for a glass of water in the desert? Phillip shivers. And this time, it’s mostly from his body cooling down after its blaze. Phineas follows suit. He must be even colder, being nearer to the window. Phillip gently extracts himself from Phineas’ generous hand, and is just about to pull the covers up over the both of them when an idea strikes him. He shouldn’t. Should he? He could. He just might. Smirking at his own twisted mind, Phillip sits up. He can feel his cock coming back to life at the prospect of his following action. He ignores it for now. He carefully shifts until he is half laying over Phineas’ slightly spread legs, in a way that he is certain won’t cause the other man any discomfort. With sly fingers, Phillip slowly pulls down the covers, catching Phineas’ undergarments as he does so. As it is every time, Phillip hears the angels sing. The sight of his cock, offensively flaccid as it may be, makes Phillip’s mouth water. Even in this state it is a sight to behold, thick and long, bigger than his own. Asking to be tasted, begging for it. And who is Phillip to deny it. He leans forward, and delicately takes Phineas’ cock in hand, as if it were a precious artifact –it is, to Phillip, as it’s brought him to the Heavens of pleasure multiple times, over and over until even himself couldn’t take anymore of that ecstasy– and guides it to his eager lips. Every inch sliding inside his mouth is bliss, and Phillip fights down the urge to simply suck him dry right then and there, especially as Phineas moans softly, turning his head to the side. But no, that’s not Phillip’s goal here, at least not yet anyway. He’s simply… warming him up, to ease his rest. Or possibly to see how long it will take Phineas to awaken. Phillip’s contradictory goals don’t deter him from encasing Phineas’ cock fully, reveling in the heavy feeling on his tongue and the twitch it draws from Phineas. Again, he wonders how it’s possible for the man to taste just as perfect as he is in his entirety. Phillip lets himself relax around the soft member, adjusting his tongue every now and then for comfort. And teasing. He basks in the little sounds Phineas breathes at every flick of Phillip’s tongue. Majestic. Sublime. Finally, after nearly ten minutes of ‘warming Phineas up’, the man rouses. He makes a confused sound, then an inquisitive one, and finally, a pleased one. His cock twitches.

“Phillip, sweetheart,” he calls quietly, voice still rough from sleep, “not that I am complaining, but what are you doing?” Phillip, without detaching himself from his prize, answers incomprehensibly, sending vibrations through Phineas’ slowly swelling cock. It makes Phineas groan, hips shifting up slightly of their own accord. “Christ.” Phineas mutters. Still, Phillip remains motionless, smirking. “Could you at least–” He cuts himself off with a louder moan as Phillip flicks his tongue expertly over the slit before stilling again. “Phillip…” Phineas growls warningly, snapping his pelvis up. Phillip hums around the now erect member, thrilled at the heaviness of it. “You teasing little thing.” 

Phillip’s own cock responds to the endearment, which prompts him to begin to move, albeit at a tortuously slow pace. Phineas hisses in both pleasure and impatience, a hand –his clean one, as it happens– coming to settle in Phillip’s hair, gently pulling at it. Almost the way Phillip likes it. Phillip decides that both he and Phineas have waited long enough, and fastens the pace, hollowing his cheeks to allow stronger suction. Phineas’ resulting moan is closer to a rumble, like an earthquake threatening to throw Phillip off his feet and into the abyss of euphoria. The grip in his hair tightens, exactly how he likes it, sending shots of electricity straight into Phillip’s cock. He takes himself in hand, following his own rhythm. Phineas’ moans grow louder, longer, praises and encouragements cascading from his lips at the exquisite feeling of his partner’s mouth around him. Phillip can already savor the salty taste of Phineas’ seed, desirous for more. His free hand joins his endeavor, sliding between Phineas’ legs to cup his rapidly tightening sack, massaging it reverently. From the corner of his eye, Phillip can see Phineas’ other hand gripping the sheets to a near rip. 

“Phil– Phil, I’m–” Phineas attempts to warn him of his impending release. The message is clear to Phillip, but both know it’s just a courtesy, well aware of Phillip’s ending preferences. Only a couple seconds later, Phineas growls out a particularly low moan, and comes. At the sound of his peeked pleasure, at the taste of it, Phillip can’t help but do the same, shooting into his own hand as he swallows every drop Phineas has to offer him, licking him clean. He regrets having to let Phineas’ softening member go as the older man pulls at his hair gently to beckon him up. Phillip wipes his hand on the sheets as he joins Phineas as well as his mouth with the back of his clean hand. He is invited into a sweet, tender kiss to which he responds with all the love he can demonstrate without it turning into a third round for him. Phineas chuckles into the kiss, feeling Phillip’s restraint. 

“Don’t tell me you can already go for a second serving?” Phineas teases him, nonetheless ready and more than willing to take care of his partner as Phillip has just done with him. But Phillip shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

“‘Second’?” he repeats, “I thought you knew me better than that, dear.”

Phineas raises a questioning eyebrow. “When did you–” Phillip silences him with a kiss before laying his head down on Phineas’ chest and closing his eyes in exhaustion.

“‘Talk about it in the morning, my sleep-heavy ringmaster.” 

“You can count on it, my greedy little dove.”

They fall back asleep with matching smiles.