They shouldn’t be doing this here or now.
They’re already mad, the both of them, but doing it here and now goes beyond madness. They should leave already, it’s dangerous to stay here, and Maurice does try to say it.
“We can’t. This is –”
“I dare say that we can. And that we will.”
Alec’s hands are pinning his wrists to the ground (he should have known that kissing Alec the second after he said that they never should have been parted would have brought to Alec above him and to other things that should really be left for a better moment) and Maurice wishes that he could object, but the moment Alec’s cock touches his thought their trousers, he isn’t sure that he can do it convincingly.
“We should –” he starts, and shudders when Alec leans down and starts placing a series of kisses along the curve of his neck. “We can’t – not here, what if –”
“I don’t care for ifs, sir,” Alec replies against his skin, just before licking a stripe over Maurice’s neck and sending some more of his blood in a direction that is not his brain’s. “I asked you to be here with me, and you never came. And before we’re gone, I will have you here.”
One of his hands moves down, undoes Maurice’s belt, pushes inside his underwear and closes around his half-hard cock and oh, he had longed for this again, he had longed for Alec’s rough fingertips to touch him again and bring him over the edge, and he knows already that he’s going to lose this one.
“But – what if –”
“Then I reckon you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?”
Maurice has no answers when Alec kisses him down into the coat he had been using for a pillow, hard and fast and making Maurice’s head spin; he ruts up against him as soon as Alec starts stroking him for real, his hands tugging on Alec’s hair as he kisses Alec back as if it’s the last thing they’ll do. He moves his other hand away, undoing Alec’s belt as best as he can, and a moment later the both of them are back on the ground, no fabric between their groins anymore. Maurice bites his tongue when he needs to moan, and the moment his cock touches Alec’s he tries to just focus on that because he can’t think straight anymore. There’s just Alec’s hand wrapping around the both of them while the other goes to his mouth the moment Maurice can’t help moaning shamelessly, and there’s Alec’s mouth sucking on the skin in the hollow of his throat, and there’s only the boathouse bathed in the dim, pink light of the sunset. He moans uselessly against Alec’s palm again, keeping his eyes open and watching Alec’s cheek flush and his hair plaster to his forehead, and right now he thinks that even if they’re found he doesn’t regret this. Not when it feels so amazing, and not when they’re doing it here (Alec was right – the moment Maurice stopped thinking about getting caught, the idea of doing this in Clive’s boathouse had suddenly seemed very appealing); they thrust up against each other while Alec jerks them both off, and the friction is just so perfect and he’s so high on adrenaline that Maurice can’t help it. The moment Alec’s thumb runs over the tip of his cock Maurice fights the urge of biting down on Alec’s hand and spills against his hand, his entire body shaking as Alec follows suit – his hand moves from mouth to shoulder and then they have their arms around each other and they’re clutching at each others’ backs while they’re still riding through their orgasm and shaking against each other.
Maurice is the one to recover the ability to speech first.
“So, are you satisfied now?” He sounds breathless, and he wishes he had the strength to move away first – they really do have to leave. If they get caught before they even have the chance to –
“Might be that I am.” Alec’s lips are moving against his jaw and it’s doing nothing to calm down his body. Another couple of sentences and he won’t be as spent as he’s now. “But I’m not quite sure that I’m done with you for now. And don’t you fret – I’ve worked here for years. No one’s around at this hour, and no one’s used the boats for the entire last month. Weather’s not nice enough for the lot of them.”
Maurice shivers when Alec’s mouth slides down, and down, before his lips press over his groin, and no, he definitely isn’t done for now. Not if Alec keeps on doing this at least.
“We still have some time.”
“But – we should talk about – where should we –”
“Oh, don’t think that I have much of a preference. We can discuss that later.”
Maurice might have found an answer, but the second Alec’s mouth touches his cock, which traitorously stirs in interest again, he forgets whatever he was thinking. He turns so that whatever sound he might make is muffled by the clothes under his head, and as his hands reach down to tug at Alec’s hair he decides that there’s really no sense in being reasonable now when he has renounced all reason the moment he asked Alec to stay.
Discussing what they're going to do now can wait. Indeed.