incognoscibilis | I know you're always on the night shift

He can feel the vibrations of Ronan's throat and Adam covers his face with his hand, trying to steady himself without any luck. The sight of Ronan, lips swollen and eyes glassy, only yanks further on his fraying control.

For a second, he just pants, unable to get a handle of his words, for which he gives Ronan an accusatory look. An attempt at one, anyway.

"You didn't come all the way here to tell me about the clinic results for us not to fuck," he says, trying for an ounce of Ronan's curse-laden swagger.

Ronan can't help a smirk at that, partially from the way Adam's trying to hold himself together, but mostly for his exasperation.

He presses a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the underside of Adam's length then, feeling the throb of that vein against his lips before licking a broad strip up to the tip once more. "Doesn't mean you can't come on me first," he points out, curling his fingers around the base of him and slowly stroking up to the tip as he rests back a bit.

Adam hisses in a breath and tries and fails to give Ronan a stern look. "You have got a lot of faith in my abilities," he says, as if Ronan doesn't have exactly the knowledge of how long and how to get him hard again after he comes.

"Sure you'll last that long?"

"Questioning my stamina, Parrish?" he asks with a low, throat laugh, his hand still working over Adam's length and lips barely kissing the tip with each upward stroke.

He quirks a grin then, his rhythm unchanging as he settles his other hand high up on Adam's waist, steadying him. "Trust me, I've been aching to get inside you for hours. Think I can hold off for a little bit longer."

It's the tease of his mouth that makes him squirm. They barely count as kisses and Adam's skin remembers the wet heat of Ronan's mouth. He aches and grinds forward against the gentle press of Ronan's hand.

"Holding you to it, Ronan," he says, tugging gently at the mohawk again.

It's rare that Adam asks for anything, a fact that holds true even in these moments. But body betrays him, hips arching forward against Ronan's hand, seeking out that little bit of friction. And Ronan gives it to him, stroking his fist over that hot, hard flesh before sinking his mouth down onto him again with a hungry groan.

In the short time Ronan's had this haircut, he's come to learn how much he loves the way Adam's fingers curl in the strands, the heat that rockets down his spine at every tug. It pulls a gasp from him this time, the sound muffled by Adam's cock in his mouth and he sinks down further, relaxing his throat as much as he's able before pulling back again, starting a quick, hungry rhythm.

Ronan knows him too well by now. Every trick of his mouth and tongue is meant to drive him just to the edge and Adam would be a little ashamed of himself except that he knows it's exactly what Ronan wants. His hips work, thrusting into the heat of Ronan's mouth, his own eyes closed.

"Ronan, God...I'm not gonna last if you..." he breathes out, shakily. "Ronan..."

One hand still fisted in Ronan's short hair, Adam rocks his hips forward, a gentle thrust that has Ronan groaning all over again, his blood surging.

He slides his own hand up then, covering the back of Adam's in encouragement. Because he's better at this than he used to be, he's had months and months of practice, of knowing how to flatten his tongue and tip his head just so and relax his throat.

And right now, he just wants Adam to fuck his mouth.

By now, he can read the signals and requests in Ronan's touches and he understands. It still makes he nervous, being allowed to pull Ronan's hair, to rut into his mouth the instinctive way he wants to.

But God, Ronan can be damn convincing. Adam gives in to himself, tries to push his brain away, and gives himself some rein, thrusting forward and pulling harder. The more he moves, the less timed. His body feels coiled tight with the need to come.

It's still not easy even with all the practice he's had. Adam grinds forward, his cock sliding down Ronan's throat hard enough to make his eyes sting and Ronan has to pull back a bit to hollow his cheeks and then catch his breath. But he recovers soon enough, humming hungrily as he sinks down onto him again, hands sliding down Adam's thighs and back up again, encouraging.

His own cock is still aching in his jeans, throbbing with every rock of Adam into his mouth, every tug of his hair. And he just wants to feel Adam let go in his mouth.

He sees Ronan pull back a little and restrains himself a half-inch, just enough that he doesn't hurt Ronan. Even if he's allowed to pull and push, all of that is a form of play with no real threat behind it. Oddly, he's proud of himself. If this happened before, he'd have stopped for half an hour and been a wreck. Now, he reads Ronan and adjusts, understanding.

None of that changes how close he is or how skilled Ronan is. Even holding back, he doesn't think he lasts more than a minute before it happens. His fingers clench in Ronan's hair and he bends nearly double over him, gasping.

Adam goes tense for a moment, but he doesn't pull out with a host of needless apologies on his tongue. Instead, he only waits and then arches forward again, just exactly as Ronan wants, cock sliding gorgeously across Ronan's tongue as Ronan hollows his cheeks again.

And then Adam's coming, cock pulsing as hot spurts slide down Ronan's throat. Ronan manages to swallow twice before pulling back, replacing his mouth with his hand to tug Adam through every wave, come landing on Ronan's bottom lip and dripping down his chin as he stares up, caught by the look of pleasure etched across Adam's face, the flush of his skin and heavy eyelids.

All he can do is breathe, his body still bent around Ronan, head low enough that he could almost kiss Ronan's hair. If he strains he could make it but his whole body feels too bonelessly liquid, too good. Adam's knees give so that he slumps down, back scraping the edge of the workbench, until he's on his knees with Ronan.

"God, Ronan," he says.

Adam slumps forward, crumpling to his knees and half straddling Ronan's thighs. Ronan's still breathing hard, licking come from his lips as his heart pounds in his chest. He's still aching in his jeans but his hands slide down over Adam's chest, curl around his waist as he leans forward for a kiss.

"So fucking hot," he breathes, pushing the words into Adam's mouth as he slides one hand lower to curl gently around Adam's slick, spent cock.

His skin prickles at the touch, too hot, overly aware of how alive he is. Adam lets out a gasp and pulls his hips back, silently asking for a second to recover. "Wasn't trying to put on a show," he says, though he knows he managed decently. Ronan likes the displays and performances, he thinks, the sense of play.

A hand slides up Ronan's thigh, cupping him through his jeans.

Ronan loosens his hold when Adam hisses and pulls his hips back, fingers instead skimming over the hard plane of Adam's stomach. "Don't have to try," he points out with a smirk because it's nothing short of the truth. Adam never tries to look appealing, at least not overtly. But the sight of those coveralls falling away at Adam's hips, the stretch of that long neck and the hard muscles under Ronan's hands and tongue... That alone could get him hard in seconds.

The taste of Adam's come is still heavy on his tongue as Adam reaches down to cup a hand against Ronan's erection through his jeans. It's Ronan's turn to hiss this time and he bucks his hips slightly, forcing himself to keep some bit of control. And failing.

It's a little mean, the way he flexes his hand against Ronan, all faint touches that normally wouldn't do much but Ronan's already hard and his eyes are already glassy. He already wants. Adam knows that Ronan had further plans here at the garage but now he's thinking they should make some alterations.

"How fast are you going to get me home after I get you off?" he asks, laughing at himself just a little. He's not like Ronan when it comes to this kind of thing.

Adam's tightens his grip, but only barely and Ronan responds with a growl and a tight shake of his head as he reaches down to wrap his hand around Adam's wrist and pull him off. He leans forward at the same time, leans up on his knees to crowd in closer to Adam's lips.

"Want to fuck you," he states, voice low and determined even through the strain of being so blindingly turned on. "God, I want to come inside you."

The growl, the sharp pull of his hand. Distantly, Adam thinks he should fear them, yet his stomach thrills with need all over again. It's a sensation that he ought to unpack, dissect, later but he's afraid of what it will say about him. For once, Adam Parrish wants to only be in the moment with Ronan leaning almost over him and his body aching to respond.

"Then you better hurry," he says, voice hoarse. "I don't know if you'll last like this."

In truth, Ronan's not sure he's going to last either. But fuck if he isn't going to try.

Adam's not pulling away, isn't insisting they hurry or leave, so Ronan pushes up to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his jeans as he pulls Adam up with him. He's a mess, boxers shoved down to mid-thigh, coveralls hanging free and Ronan growls again, crushing in for a hungry kiss with his hands tight on Adam's bare sides.

"Turn around," he says a moment later, words pressed to Adam's lips before he pulls back to give him room, dropping his own hands to the buttons of his jeans and tugging them open.

It's difficult not to stumble as Ronan pulls him up. Ronan looks him over and Adam's aware of his disheveled appearance, turning redder under his flushed cheeks. He's rumpled and half-dressed and still horny even though he hasn't gotten his second wind yet. And Ronan's growling, pushing at him with kisses and orders.

He turns, quickly, his hands braced on the edge of the counter. Turning back, Adam looks to Ronan and looks at him, lips parted a little. "Don't need too much," he says.

Ronan's not so sure about that, but he doesn't have a whole bottle of lube on him anyway, just a couple little plastic packets he'd hastily shoved into his pockets before he'd jumped into the Pig.

He pulls one out now, ripping it open with his teeth and squeezing the contents onto his fingers. Adam's looking at him over his shoulder, mouth open and eyes dark and Ronan wastes no time and slicking his fingers along the crease of Adam's ass, the pad of one finding the tight ring of his hole and pushing in, right up to the first knuckle.

By now it's a familiar sensation and Adam relaxes, shifting his weight to get more comfortable. It feels good to have Ronan touch him like this and it gives him a little time to settle back into himself properly. Despite what he's said, he knows Ronan will be careful. He's careless in so many things but not in this, which makes it important. Special.

He feels the press and sighs out, head tipped back a little toward Ronan.

Adam relaxes against Ronan's finger, exhales as he adjusts to the stretch of Ronan's finger. Ronan waits a breath or two and then slides it in deeper, twists his wrist and pulls it back out, starting a slow, careful rhythm as he smooths his other hand up Adam's back, easing those muscles too, silently urging Adam to open up for him.

"Okay?" he asks, teasing the tip of a second finger alonside the first. Because whatever Adam's body is telling him, he still needs to be sure. He still needs to know Adam wants every bit of this.

Adam nods and then breathes out a soft, "Yes." He knows that hearing the word is important to Ronan because it's important to Adam too, so he makes sure that it's heard and understood. Because that's the shape of how they love.

"Okay," he says once more. Adam leans forward on the counter, resting on his forearms so he can shift. "More. Please?"

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