uunnnnffff yesssss. I can just imagine Gabryjel’s big hands around the Sheriff’s sturdy hips, hitching them up into the warm, insistent push of his cock along the crack of his ass.
And John is probably protesting, yeah? He’s got so much shit to do. He’s gotta be at the station and make sure his deputies are in line and nobody gets mauled by supernatural beasts, and then there’s his very private splatoon of regrettably young soldiers one of whom is his son and he needs to make sure that they….
But then there’s Gabe’s rough hand right in the middle of his back; right between his shoulder blades, and he’s pressing down without a thought about his little brother’s comfort. Just holds him down with his considerable weight and half-listens to the air getting forced out of John. He registers how the fight goes out of his brother; bunched muscles slowly becoming soft. So slow and cautious as if he forgot how this works.
(And it’s been so long that Gabryjel has been here and been able to show his młodszy brat exactly where his place was. John’s body remembers, though. That warm, pink muscle opening up so easily to his questing fingers, hugging them in a welcoming, rippling embrace.)
Gabryjel would use way too little lube for how long it’s been for the Sheriff and he’d make those little, hurt sounds. High and breathy and not at all like his usual raspy drawl. There’s no way for him to get away from the blunt pressure, though. Not with his big brother on top of him and a hand holding him down. And soon afterwards he doesn’t even want to get away from the pain anymore because then Gabryjel’s hairy chest is pressed against his back and his brother is cooing at him and murmuring rough endearments in Polish that make the Sheriff’s toes curl
Cyberrat Writes 