bsumone | ❝ You’re a good-lookin’ man. ❞

In Django’s defense, he’s been thinking about Chasin in a slinky dress long before they arrived in this beautiful world and got settled into this beautiful hotel. On the other hand, it really doesn’t take a lot for Chasin to get Django riled up. Even if their history didn’t tell the elder bounty hunter he was in for a good time, his junior’s sexy and eager and that goes a long way.

Django pressed closer until he had Chasin pinned between his body and the glass. Did he care if anyone down below saw them? No, not really. And Chasin didn’t have any objections. It’s not like they were on the ground floor where they could be easily seen. If someone happened to look up, well, that was on them.

He ran his calloused hands up Chasin’s thighs, under that skirt that left so very little and yet just enough to the imagination – not that Django had to imagine; he’s seen everything Chasin’s got to offer before this. There’s no shyness or hesitance in the way Django goes straight for the younger man’s dick, coiling his fingers around it to begin a slow and steady stroking. At the same time, Django leaned in, nosing through Chasin’s hair to get his mouth on the back of the other bounty hunter’s neck.

That mouth made him shudder as much as that hand did. Moaning, he pressed his hands against the glass to make it easier to push back into what was being done to him as well as to grind his hips against the ones behind him. He was already running his tongue over his upper lip as he let his eyes slide partway closed. They'd only just started and he was already this fucking turned on. Not that that was a surprise. He was always ready to go with Django just because he knew the sex was going to be fucking amazing.

Pressing his forehead to the glass, he sighed at how cool it felt. "Fuck your hand always feels great."

A roughness to it that came from getting out there and being willing to get those hands dirty. Willing to put in the work rather than focus on all the prissy care it took to keep skin soft. It made for the greatest fucking handjobs.

Putting in the work was something Django's done for the better part of the last few decades. Calloused hands and a fearsome reputation weren't the only things he earned from it. Enemies, scars, a creaky joint or two. Right now, none of that really mattered. Right now, what mattered was that hot, young body pressing back against him, the taste of Chasin's skin beneath his mouth, the smell of him filling Django's mind with every breath, and...

Django chuckled softly, a mere puff of warm breath against the spot where hed dampened Chasin's skin.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about your dick."

Shivering from the feel of that hot air cooling damp skin, he moaned softly. Fingers dragging on the glass caused a smeared drag that showed where his hands had been only a moment ago. Just started but already such a mess. Exactly the way he loved it to be honest. No way would he want it any other way when it came to sex with Django.

A soft laugh left him after that. "Yeah? That excited by my dick?"

“Your dick, your pretty mouth, your tight little asshole.” The whole package turned Django on. Not just because Chasin was easy on the eyes, either. The sex was great and it never complicated things beyond the bedroom. Django’s got enough complications with fuck buddies who get clingy.

Returning his lips to Chasin’s throat, he continued stroking him. He loved how quickly things escalated between them and how damn messy it got. If Chasin wanted to get jerked off before Django pounded him into the bed, he’a perfectly fine with that. The weight and heat of that cock in his hand was thrilling. Knowing that he’s the reason Chasin’s hard, anticipating the younger man blowing his load against the glass…. It’s so fucking erotic.

"It's taken some pretty big dick too. But I'm quick to recover."

He laughed and rocked his hips as he dropped his head back against the man more. All to expose his throat better to him. Fuck dresses were great. He should start wearing them or skirts more often. Easy access. Nice and breezy. Fucking perfect for shit like this.

"Gonna blow all over this glass if ya keep this up..."

Not a complaint in the slightest.

"Oh, I know," he assured in a breathless voice against the side of Chasin's neck. A quiet groan rumbled against the younger man's skin when he pushed back against Django. Django, still fully clothed, rock hard, and oh-so-eager for where the evening was going. His hips rocked, grinding shamelessly against Chasin's ass as his hand worked quicker, twisting and tugging that sensitive flesh with only one purpose in mind.

"Go ahead."

❝ You’re a good-lookin’ man. ❞

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