Work Text:
It's been two days since the uncalled-for but totally mind-blowing sex and Lyle hasn't made any other moves on him. Erik guesses it's his turn now, to demonstrate and initiate sexual intimacy but he can't quite make it. It's not that he's shy, not from Lyle anyway, they've seen each other's bodies almost more than their own, but he's afraid of something else.
Rejection.
Coming from Lyle it would destroy him, and even though this is very unlikely to happen, a part of him still hesitates.
But he wants it so much, can’t stop thinking about it, remembering the voracity in Lyle’s touches, the burning kisses they shared.
So, when Lyle asks him that afternoon if they should order some champagne, Erik immediately agrees; he could use some liquid courage. The weather seems to be in his favor, too; it’s a nice hot day, with a blue sky and a large pool just waiting for them.
The best part of the presidential suite is the private pool. Lyle loves it, and Erik likes it when he’s happy. The hotel even gets them a floatie, a double one, and it takes them a few tries and lots of laughter and splashes to finally settle, side by side, and Lyle gets them close to the edge where he left the flutes.
They cheer and lie back and it’s all sun and tans after that. It takes Erik about three glasses to gather the courage to do something. He can’t think about anything to say so he decides that actions are better than words. He probably won’t get rejected. Probably.
Buzzed with champagne, dizzy with want, he turns to Lyle and grabs his face, interrupting whatever he’s talking about with a kiss, pretending he’s not feeling the hesitation making his insides tremble.
His brother lets out a laugh and licks into his mouth greedily. Relief floats Erik’s mind and he gets closer, half draping himself over Lyle’s chest. His brother’s arm circles his waist, brings him closer, and his hand rubs his back softly.
“You’re full of surprises aren’t you?” Lyle mutters in between kisses and doesn't wait for Erik to answer, just grips Erik's jaw and deepens the kiss, stroking their tongues together with vigor, like he's showing Erik that despite him being half on top this time he's still the one in control here.
Erik doesn’t mind. Giving in to Lyle is what he’s familiar with by now. The tingling sensation down his crotch is also becoming familiar when it comes to his brother. After half a minute Lyle pulls back a little,
“Want to take this inside?” he smirks but Erik's already too far gone to stop now, to move away, he can't, so he answers,
“No, I want it here,” and goes back kissing Lyle.
“weregonnafall,” he laughs against Erik's lips, “we're gonna get wet.”
“I'm already wet for you,” Erik is sure it’s the champagne talking, but Lyle laughs loud and Erik just loves, loves his laugh. He cuts the sound when he shoves his hand inside Lyle’s swimming trunks, his hand immediately closing around the already so-hard dick. He absently wonders if Lyle has a switch for it or if this instant reaction is something exclusively his. He hopes for the latter.
“Oh-my god,” Lyle grunts, moving his hips up, seeking Erik’s touch. His hunger for it leaves Erik in flames, desperate to elicit more reactions like this from his brother. He’s raising one leg to straddle him on the floatie but Lyle’s hands blindly push Erik’s shorts down before he can complete the movement and somehow Erik manages to slip his shorts off before sitting on top of his brother’s hard dick. Lyle moans, his hands flying to grab Erik’s hips to still his movements,
“We should really- uuhn, go inside,” his moans cut his phrase in half and Erik loves it. “We don't really have lube out here and water... isn't a good substitute,”
“Don’t care,” Erik pants the same phrase his brother used days ago to make him shut him up and it works,
“Shit, okay,” Lyle pants back agreeing and they’re back at each other’s mouths, kissing wide as if trying to devour one another.
When Erik tries a little bolder move, the floatie slips from under them like Lyle had said it would, and the water envelops them. The cool water against their dry, sun-warmed skin causes a thermal shock and they gasp, mouths still touching.
Erik locks his legs firmly around Lyle’s waist, feeling his brother's hands on the back of his tights holding him effortlessly half out of the water and the position is weirdly romantic. He caresses Lyle’s face before circling his arms around his neck and diving in for more kisses.
His hips move with unmistakable intention though, and this time Lyle doesn’t stop him, just moves a hand to hold his dick in place while Erik continues his shallow thrusts, rubbing the cleft of his ass against Lyle’s hard dick.
All the teasing gets Lyle hissing and gripping him tighter, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of Erick’s thigh. He wants this too much too, so he locks eyes with Lyle and just nods.
Lyle has one hand keeping his dick in place and the other lets go of Erik's weight slowly; both the angle and the gravity work to get his blunt head past Erik's rim. Erik moans because of the sharp pain and Lyle mirrors his sound for a totally different reason.
The opposite sensations, the hot sun on his back, and the cold water on his waist down, and the sharp pain mingled with slick pleasure between his legs, create this otherworldly experience. Erik is breathing fast, he tries to tighten his arms around Lyle’s neck, and fails, feeling weak.
“Erik, I-...” but his brother doesn't conclude the thought though, because Erik moves his hips, and whatever Lyle was going to say is cut short to a groan.
His head may be swimming, but his body is still strong and very much sure of what it wants. It’s easy to move underwater, and the pain fades with each roll of his hips. Lyle’s sounds change too, getting more desperate. Erik loves being the one pulling such sounds out of him, it makes him kinda delirious with power. Makes him feel irresistible.
Erik leans his head down and licks a long streak on Lyle's neck, he tastes chlorine, and sweat, and some faint tanning cream on his brother's warm skin. He tastes like summer. Lyle responds by pulling him down faster on himself, as fast as the water permits. It's still not fast enough for him, Erik knows. He can sense his brother’s frustration deep in his solid muscles, tensing underneath his palms. He can’t contain a smile but he hides it, pressing his mouth to Lyle’s cheek.
“I’m close,” Lyle grunts, “oh my god, I’m so close,”
Only when Erik hears his brother saying does he realize he is too, a flammable sensation coiling low in his abdomen, his balls tensing, and he lets a low moan out, close to Lyle’s ear,
“Then do,” he bites the soft flesh under the earlobe, “I want you… your cum in- insid--...” he can’t finish the sentence, his breath cut short, his brain glitching from pleasure.
He guesses they come at the same time, but there’s no way to be sure, not when all his oxygen is punched outta him, when his hips keep moving on their own. It feels like losing his mind. All he wants is to get impossibly closer to Lyle, merge their flesh in one, dive deep under his skin.
All he knows is, when he comes back to earth, Lyle has come too, and he knows that because both his breathing and hands are quivering, and his face is searching Erik’s, seeking reassuring kisses and comfort. Erik gives it all; slow, appreciative kisses, and soft presses of fingers slowly unclenching Lyle’s shoulder and neck. He probably should let go of his brother’s waist, but he doesn’t want to. Wants to stay in this embrace forever.
“Can we go back inside now?” he’s panting, “I really need to lay down, preferably with you on top of me.”