Phan Christmas Marathon

December 19th-Chapter 6

((Prompt #12: "Touch me," he moaned, and Dan listened keenly to the Northern-gone-London accent, almost able to imagine the lips wantonly spread were Phil's—but then his eyes opened, green with flecks of brown, and Dan admitted they were pretty, but they weren't Phil's, they weren't blue or iridescent or filled with love like Phil's used to be; but then again, Phil's eyes weren't filled with love nowadays either, so Dan lowered his gaze and complied ~phanfictionprompts at Tumblr))

Dan's POV:

"Touch me," he moaned, and I listen keenly to the Northern-gone-London accent, almost able to imagine the the lips that belonged to that voice were Phil's—but then his eyes opened, green with flecks of brown, and I have to admit they are pretty, but they weren't Phil's, they weren't blue or iridescent or filled with love like Phil's; but then again, Phil's eyes weren't filled with love nowadays either, so I lower my gaze and comply.

He pressed himself closer to me as my hand moved back and forth, grasping his cock.

He moaned into my neck, his breath tickling the skin of it and I hold back the urge to flinch, I don't like people getting near or touching my neck.

As he presses closer to me, making it more difficult to move my hand, ironically, I get pushed further into the cold wall.

He crouches down slightly, his short, brown hair brushing my chin, and places his hands under my bare thighs.

After a second's hesitation, he pulls me up and I quickly wrap my legs around his waist, having to remove my hand so it doesn't get stuck between us.

I hear him clumsily reach around for the lube which was literally two inches to the left of where he was reaching on the drawer.

When he finally does get it, he puts some on his finger and I brace myself for the cold, sticky feeling of it.

When it does come, I gasp, closing my eyes as his finger goes in and out of me.

After he feels it's right to do so, he slowly enters me.

I immediately place one hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly and the other on the back of his head. I hide my face in his neck.

He thrust his hips into me, and I arch my back slightly.

As he does so, I hit the wall, over and over until he needs to use it as support.

I incline my head upwards, facing the ceiling, moaning quietly.

He takes this moment to press light kisses on my chest and neck, leaving small marks behind.

I'm about to reach down and relieve my neglected cock when I feel his hand pulling it away.

I whine slightly.

He chuckles, placing his own hand there and doing what I was going to do.

I moan even louder in the white-walled room of this stranger.

Our moans and loud, ragged breaths fill the room, leaving no space for any other sounds.

This goes on for a while that is, until, all of it, his hand, the heat of him, the pleasure going through me in waves, all of it, is too much for me to handle.

I throw my head back once more, at the time I was trying to leave hickeys on his neck but it was proven fairly difficult to do, and moan loudly, white, hot liquid spilling onto our chests and a bit on our necks and chins.

I think the sound of me coming is what made him do the same, except, this time instead of spilling on us, I just feel it inside me.

I squirm slightly at the feeling of it, which is uncomfortable, I think.