::Closed RP for Mello and Near::

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

((Likely to get NSFW))



It was the first time Near had been in the position of getting birthday presents for a boyfriend, and it was somewhat baffling.

After all, if Mello wanted something, wouldn't he just get it?

Still, Near wanted to at least try to celebrate. While Mello was out, he had a house elf bring in a chocolate cake, and stacked the neatly wrapped gifts he'd gotten on the bed; the obligatory high-end chocolate, several rare tomes on spell research, a few new floggers and other interesting 'toys'...

...and Near himself, dressed in only a black leather bow.

Comments

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

He's talking to much. I need...I need to fuck him harder so all he can do is scream. Yes...must... I move my hips harder, deeper, pull his hair so he's meeting my thrusts, stroke his dick. He'll scream...he'll come first...he'll be mine.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

And the force of it makes Near groan hoarsely, moving with Mello, grinding back against him with deep shudders. So easy to let himself be overwhelmed, to want to be overwhelmed.

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

I move my hand from his hair to around his throat. God, so good. I lean over and growl in his ear, "Come for me, you slut."

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

A yelp dies in Near's throat, choked off by Mello's hand. The roughness makes him ache, makes him burn, makes him need to come, and his body quivers on the edge of obeying the command.

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

"Now," I growl out, so close myself. "Come now, my slut." It's hard to talk around the moans and groans that want to come out.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

The edges of a thin wail escape around Mello's grip as Near does, as his body claims the release it so desperately craves and bursts into orgasm.

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

His body tightens hard around me and I have no choice but to come, not that I really want to not come. I hold his throat until his body is just trembling around mine and let it go, easing us onto our sides so I can hold him. I'll leave him tied up a little longer, though. "Mine," I whisper when I can.

[cardarchitect.livejournal.com]

"Yours," he whispers as Mello's grip slackens, nestling against him. "Happy Birthday."