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It's a slow morning. No class today, no meetings, no appointments. Rocky and Adrian are out of town for a few days too. It's just them, laying in bed, with the golden light from the artificial sunrise drifting into their room. Ryland's hand is tracing nonsense patterns on his back, and he sighs blissfully, nuzzling into the scarred chest beneath him.
Ryland chuckles, lifting his head to press a kiss into his hair and letting it flop back into the pillows. There's no rush, no need to get out of bed just yet. They can take it slow.
He knows he's alive by now. He does. But mornings like this feel like how Heaven ought to. He has luxury enough to be languid and indulgent. Isn't that paradise? What he wouldn't do to be encompassed by it. Although...
"Hey Ry?" Simon asks lazily, hand drifting up to twine with his husbands as he receives a questioning hum. "I kinda wanna try something new."
"What's that, Sunshine?" He asks, voice still a little husky with sleep. Simon rubs his beard over his chest, delighting in the feeling of the golden hair there catching on his jaw, delighting in Ryland's little shudder.
"I really want to be under you." He murmurs, and Ryland chuckles, rolling them over and slotting himself between Simon's legs. Their noses are inches apart and Ryland's eyes are sparkling, as his hair – getting a little overgrown again, it seems – falls around his face like a curtain. He's beautiful, and (not for the first time) Simon kind of can't believe he's lucky enough to be wanted by him.
"I have no problem with that, but this isn't exactly new, love. You want me to ride you?"
"Yes. No, I mean. Kind of-?" He breathes out a laugh and reaches up to brush some of his hair back idly, more for the motion of it than any real purpose since it slips back down seconds later, not yet long enough to stay behind his ear. "I would like for you to ride my mouth."
Ryland blinks, a flush spilling across his cheeks. "Pardon?"
"I want you to sit on my face, angel.”
That pretty flush deepens. "I- are you sure, Simon? You know Erid is 2g, I'm twice as heavy here as I would be on Earth, and 50% heavier than on the Hail Mary-"
"Mmmm, yeah, pretty sure I can take it," he muses, half teasing as he slides his hand down his side and settles on his thigh, squeezing the muscles there delightedly. Thank you, 2g minimum muscle mass maintenance exercise routine, you are about to make me die a happy man. He smirks a little at the thought, and Ryland shifts in place.
"I... if you're sure..."
"I am absolutely sure."
"You can back out at any time, just- just hit my leg or something-"
"You got it, get up here."
"Maybe we should grab something for you to drop if-"
"Ryland," The blonde pauses, looking at him again, and Simon whips out his best pleading eyes. "Please? Please come sit on my face? Please let me eat you out? Please please please?"
Ryland makes a little choked noise, but nods, finally crawling up, albeit a little hesitantly. Simon wiggles down to make it easier, slipping his arm through the crook of Ryland's knee to pull his leg up around his ear. Then heaven is there, folds already flushed a little with arousal, and Simon feels himself start to salivate.
"LahAHst chance to- Fudge, Simon!" Ryland yelps as Simon drags his tongue from taint to tip, swirling the end of it briefly around his swelling clit before repeating the motion. He does this a few times, humming his pleasure as the taste of his arousal grows with the swelling of his cute little dick and the slick starting to seep from his hole. He twists his tongue briefly against his entrance, only dipping in slightly, and Ryland reacts predictably to the tease, twitching down before righting himself back out.
Simon frowns, letting his head fall back and tilting up to make eye contact. Ryland glances down, hand pressed over his mouth and the other clamped onto the headboard in a vise grip. He whimpers a little at the sight of Simon looking up at him, hair still mussed from sleep and made worse by his position laid out between his thighs.
"Angel," he rumbles, caressing his thigh. Ryland shivers. "C'mon, I told you to sit down, didn't I?"
"I-I just- I don't wanna hurt your neck, or- I'm not exactly petite, Simon!" He exclaims, splaying his hand over his face.
Simon sighs, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive flesh before him. He doesn't give Ryland a chance to protest again, opting instead to slide his hand up and over his hip and yank him down.
Ryland yelps and then moans, finally, as Simon tilts his chin up and gets to work, properly now. He sucks a kiss to the base of his dick, and Ryland jerks in place a little bit like he wants to move but won't let himself. Simon scowls, nipping gently in the same spot. It gets the proper thrust he's looking for, an instinctive jolt more than anything, but it's enough and he smirks as he grabs his waist, guiding him into continuing the motion.
His beautiful (wonderful, perfect, divine) husband is gripping the headboard with both hands now, clutching it like a lifeline as he obeys. He's hesitant, but slowly, unsteadily, he starts to rock his hips, high pitched little moans and whines stuttering out of him. Simon groans his approval, deep and gutteral, cock throbbing in time with his pulse as he redoubles his efforts. His angel cries out as he finally wiggles his tongue into his hole and thrusts it up as far as he can manage - which is pretty damn far these days; a long, clever tongue is one of the quirks the blood ocean left behind.
Ryland gets lost in it, letting himself move with the rhythms his body demands, and grinds desperately against Simon's face, babbling a barely coherent stream of pleas and praise. Simon can barely get a breath in, gasping cut off by the frantic roll of hips trying to grind his dick on the arch of his nose and drill his tongue deeper into his hole and feel the scrape of too-sharp teeth everywhere, and everything is hot and wet and loud, so loud. If Ryland was coherent enough to hear himself, hear the wet noises from his absolutely soaked pussy as Simon eats him like a 5 star fucking meal, he'd be mortified. But he's not, and Simon couldn't care less that he can't breathe, not when Ryland is making so many pretty noises, when his thighs are clamped around his ears and drowning out everything but Ryland, Ryland, Ryland, when his face is buried in heaven, and he can feel his cock leaking with how damn hard he is just from this – fuck, he might cum without a touch, like he's a teenager again. He pulls his legs up, sparks of pleasure ripping through him at the minimal contact of his cock rubbing against them.
"Simon!!" Ryland sobs out, and Simon's eyes widen as the thighs around his head tighten so hard he feels like his skull is gonna pop and he gushes over Simon's chin, wailing as he presses down, and God, holy fuck, that's so fucking hot-
He curls his hand around his waist tighter, licking and sucking him through it steadily, eyes rolling as his orgasm rips through him too, moaning his pleasure into the bliss around him. He only slows when Ryland's spasming starts to ease. Simon doesn't think he'll ever forget the sight above him, framed perfectly by trembling thighs. Ryland's head is ducked, covered in tears and a bit of drool and flushed a deep red from his ears to his chest. He's still holding the headboard, though it's loose and shaky now. All of him is shaky, wheezing breaths heaved through quivering muscles. The only part of him not utterly lax are the thighs still pinned around him, keeping him in place.
Unfortunately, however much he'd like to stay here, he actually can't breathe like this. Like, at all. Spots are starting to dance in his vision, and he drops his hand to pat at his thigh.
"Huh...?" Ryland mumbles, hazy eyes drifting open and slowly focusing on him. Simon taps more insistently (frantically, if he's being honest – he's gonna pass out in a few seconds here,) and Ryland gasps, scrambling off of him.
He sucks in a deep breath, rolling onto his side and coughing a little as his lungs scream for air.
"Oh, god!! Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgod!! That's why I didn't want to- I'm so sorry, Simon, are you ok?? Fudge, I-"
"Ry," he rasps out, rolling onto his back again and panting, flopping his hand at him until Ryland relents and curls their fingers together. "Do not apologize, that was the hottest thing ever, and I am fine. I'm great."
Ryland winces. "But you couldn't breathe-"
"I was into it."
"Simon!" Ryland chides, and Simon laughs, letting his eyes slip shut. "I- can I at least do something to reciprocate, it feels selfish otherwise-"
"Angel, there is literally no need." he informs, gesturing down to his spent cock, the mess clear on his torso. His peek reveals Ryland's flabbergasted expression.
"You... really enjoyed me just- just- on your face? That much?"
"Fuck yeah I did!" He exclaims. "Wanna do it again?"
Ryland makes a mortified sound and flops down next to him to suffocate himself in a pillow. Simon laughs, light and in love and happy.