John pulled back from Ringo's mouth and held his face. "Do me." John lifted his legs to underscore his words. He braced himself as Ringo moved. John turned to look at Ringo, entirely too far away in the small bed.
"Um." Ringo opened the drawer and took out the lube. "Want to do this on your stomach or your side?" He didn't move closer.
"Ringo?" John dropped his legs. "I want to look at you." He sat up, started to, concerned how rigid his lover had become.
"That's not a good idea." Ringo slid closer, knees out like a barricade. "It'd be easier..."
"I couldn't. I want this; I need to see you." He settled on his back, pulling his legs up again.
Ringo rested just his fingertips on John's shins. "You look hot. I don't want to hurt you." He slipped between John's legs, lowering himself back down, covering John's mouth with his own.
John anticipated, waited. "Ringo."
"I won't." He rocked them together, kissed John's face. "Love you."
"Please."
"I." Ringo pulled away. "I've... You don't, I've never done this before." He rolled over to the far side of the bed.
"Ringo?" John slid over, reached out with fingers and then hands. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"
"No," Ringo replied peevishly. "Expect you'll keep asking." He breathed loudly for a time. "I could hurt you that way."
"It's a possibility, not a certainty. I want to see you come, I need to watch you. Kiss you. I need this, need you." John rolled back, still holding Ringo's arm.
Ringo let himself be pulled, snagged his glasses at the last moment. "No reason you shouldn't have to see these." He put the hornrims on and leaned over John. "You're certain you want this?" Hope and trepidation jockeyed in his voice. He swallowed at John's wicked smile. "Tell me to stop if it hurts."
Ringo opened the tube and squirted out some onto his fingers, warming the slick before stroking John's hole. He rubbed the lube over it, coating the pucker, teasing it, pressing it slightly. He exhaled hard, his body shaking as he touched John. Slowly he eased a finger inside.
He watched his finger slide in and out of John so carefully. Ringo let his eyes wander up John. "Ur," he gave up trying to speak, just watching John watching him.
John was shimmying, murmuring. Ringo pulled his finger out and globbed out lube into his hand, roughly coating himself. He wiped his hand off on a thigh, kneeling in closer to John, his head weeping next to the glistening pucker.
Ringo pressed at John, biting his lip in concentration. He moved forward infinitesimally, glacially. His chest heaved as he strained not to speed up, to wait for the second ring to open.
It did. Ringo slipped forward and pulled back slightly, going deeper by stages. John was stretched, back arched, eyes closed. He shook. Ringo sank to the very root, his mouth open. John looked up at him, and smiled.
Ringo leaned forward, touching his face to John's. He started to move, lengthening his strokes with each out-in. John was shaking, producing a steady litany of half-swallowed moans. Ringo sped up, hips rolling as he pumped.
John exhaled hot and sudden. Ringo stopped cold. John strained to close his mouth into a kiss. John wriggled, grabbed Ringo by the back of the neck. Ringo started moving again, trying to restrain John's hips. Their mouths met, moans burbling in the kiss.
They moved fast against each other, Ringo's strokes long and furious. His fear bled off, he was too close. Ringo came, pumping hard, pulsing into John. He kept jerking as he sprawled over John. He looked at John, his eyes still out of focus even with the glasses. Ringo settled in, goofy smile spreading across his face and John's chest. He kept his head from rolling and gouging John with his glasses.
"Ringo." John stroked the long hair back behind one ear. "I need, I need you to move. Slowly."
"John?" He pulled out carefully, caressing John with his clean hand. Ringo looked at John worriedly, noting him wince. "I told you to say something."
"I'm fine." John held Ringo firmly, flexing his hip joints surreptitiously. "I'm a little sore. You didn't hurt me. Thank you, you were wonderful."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, your kung-fu is the best." John was susurrant in moments.
Ringo stared, then put his glasses aside. He joined John in sleep.