Snakes and Lawyers comment porn tennis. Yin and Chelle take the court.

Yin wrote:

"Jesus," Julian says, but he's pretty sure that Emmett can't hear him. He's moaning into his crossed arms, leaning against the wall. His legs are spread wide and Emmett's on his knees between them licking across the small of Julian's back and easing a third finger inside.

"Tell me what you want, Julian," Emmett says. "You know I'll give you anything."

God, Julian thinks. He could ask and Emmett would work a fourth finger into him, maybe even get him loose enough to take Emmett's whole hand. The thought of it makes him shudder - half in want and half in fear. He's relatively sure he wants it, but not here, not in the kitchen. Not with the tile cold under his feet and leaning against the wall between the spice rack and the clock that ticks too loudly.

"Fuck me," Julian moans, and Emmett gives him one last twist of fingers before standing up. Julian hears Emmett's pants hit the floor, and feels the rough press as Emmett's cock pushes into him, slow and steady.

"Hard," Julian says, then pushes back and gets his palms on the wall. He locks his elbows, and Emmett starts pounding into him, fingers gripped tightly enough on Julian's hip to bruise.

By the time they both slide to the floor, there's come on the wall and the clock is halfway across the room in a puddle of its own broken glass.

Emmett holds Julian's head in his lap and strokes his sweaty hair. "You know," he says. "If you hated the clock so much, we could have just gotten a new one."

Chelle answered with Freedom:

Julian swallowed. Sure he'd asked for this, choked out his desire when Emmett was deep inside him, using his cock to force words from Julian just like he always did.

It'd be easier to resist if he didn't love it so much, that feeling of being outside himself, in some place where control didn't matter, where being right didn't matter, where the only thing that mattered was the pleasure. And Emmett.

Emmett kissed him, slow, slower than usual. "If you need me to stop, I will," he said so softly it was almost a whisper. Julian nodded and Emmett sat back between his legs, a tub of lube that looked like a vat next to him. At least it wasn't Crisco.

One hand dipped into the vat as Emmett stroked Julian's thigh with the other. He rubbed his thumb across a sensitive patch high on Julian's inner thigh, and Julian's cock which had been as uncertain as he was, wavering around semi-hard, stiffened.

Emmett had his body trained, but Julian couldn't find it in him to be bothered by that. In truth, he kind of liked it.

When Emmett's slick fingers touched his opening, Julian spread his legs still more, just like he did every single time. Emmett pressed inside, just a single finger, just a hint of what was too come. Julian still groaned.

Blinding pleasure when Emmett grazed his prostate, and then a second finger, pushing in, stretching him.

Julian wanted it, and he pushed his hips down onto Emmett's fingers.

"Shhh," Emmett said, circling the base of Julian's cock with his thumb and forefinger. Emmett never shushed him during sex. He was always trying to get Julian to lose it, to babble and cry out, to writhe and confess. The surprise was enough to still him.

Emmett moved his fingers back and forth, teasing. Julian kept still and tried not to ask for more.

Maybe Emmett wouldn't fist him, maybe he'd just make Julian come with his fingers. He'd done it before, taken Julian apart with just his fingers, and when Julian was still trying to focus pushed inside him. He loved being fucked when he'd already come, and the thought of it made him tighten his hands in the sheets.

A third finger pushed into him.

Julian tried to move his legs farther apart, but there wasn't anywhere for them to go.

Emmett was really stretching him now, turning his fingers in ways he knew would make Julian crazy, and he couldn't keep still any longer. He lifted his hips, seeking more. Emmett responded by rubbing Julian's balls with his thumb.

Then he leaned over and pressed his mouth to Julian's. Julian grabbed onto his shoulders and parted his lips. Emmett took his mouth the same way he was taking Julian's ass, with knowledge and care.

Sliding down Julian's chest, Emmett took his cock into his mouth, sucking on the head and sliding his fingers free. Julian made a noise that was part protest, part pleasure.

The fingers returned, slicker this time, and Emmett released his cock as he eased them inside.

The stretch burned. Oh, God, that wasn't three fingers, it was four.

Emmett was watching him, clearly ready to pull out, but Julian didn't want him to. "Okay," he said, almost panting. "It's okay."

Giving Julian's cock a slow stroke with his free hand, Emmett began to move his fingers back and forth, small movements, never pulling back very far.

He wanted more, even though the stretch still burned he wanted more, more of Emmett, more of the pleasure, of being wanton and free, the way only Emmett could make him. He lifted his hips, trying to get it.

Emmett stroked his cock again, slow and soothing, but he worked his thumb in. Julian could feel his knuckles when he pushed inside. That would be the hardest part to take, the widest part. He clutched at the sheets, groaning in frustration at his own inability to spread his legs any farther.

"Beautiful," Emmett said in a voice rich with lust. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He wanted to be beautiful for Emmett, so he let go of the sheet with his left hand and slid it up the center of his chest, carding his fingers through his chest hair before rubbing his right nipple, Emmett's favorite. His own touch just added to the pleasure coursing through him and Julian thought he might explode with it.

Then Emmett pushed again and there was a burst of pain and fullness like Julian had never felt before. He panted and groaned, squeezing his own nipple as Emmett kept perfectly still inside him.

"Julian?" The concerned look was back, along with something else, amazement maybe, or lust; Julian couldn't think clearly enough to sort it out.

"You're in me."

"I know."

"Move, please. A little."

Emmett did. He moved his fist back and forth, and Julian could feel his knuckles and the smooth skin on the back of his hand. The pressure was intense, and he could've sworn every breath Emmett took was somehow being transferred directly to his prostate.

Slow, gentle movements in his ass, and Emmett kissing the inside of his thigh, mouthing a ball, brushing his lips across that spot on Julian's cock.

He didn't feel wanton at all.

He felt cared for.

"Emmett." Emmett looked up at him, all blue eyes and tenderness. Julian wanted to kiss him and suck him, wrap his arms around those shoulders and just hold on.

"I've got you," Emmett whispered, his mouth closing around Julian's nipple, his fist turning inside Julian. Turning and stroking, loving Julian from the inside out.

He came clutching at Emmett's shoulders.

When at last Julian let him go, Emmett slid his fist free and rose up onto his knees, straddling one of Julian's thighs, and jerked himself off with the hand that had been inside Julian.

Julian arched as he came, taking Emmett's fluid, trying to cover himself in it.

Later, when Emmett tried to clean it off, Julian stopped him, rubbing it into his skin before pulling Emmett down to rest against his chest.

Then Yin said:

It doesn't happen often, but when it does, Julian thinks he's hit the jackpot or passed the Bar again. He's barely inside the door when Emmett curls his fingers in Julian's crisp white button-down and pulls him close. Julian has the presence of mind to kick the door shut, but just barely. Emmett pushes Julian's suit jacket down his arms and off, and Julian doesn't even bitch about the wrinkles. It's hard to bitch with someone else's tongue in your mouth. Emmett breaks the kiss and drops his head.

Then he undoes Julian's bowtie with his teeth. Julian has to laugh at that. Emmett has an unusual obsession with the bowties. After all, they're what he uses to tie Julian to the bed sometimes. Emmett spits the tie away and kisses Julian again, rough and hard.

This can go one of two ways. Either Julian can get fucked hard against the door, or Emmett can push him to his knees and tangle a hand in Julian's hair and fuck his mouth, not even bothering to do more that unzip and get his cock out and into Julian's mouth. Either way is fine with Julian.

But Emmett has other ideas. Julian's breath huffs out when his back hits the door, breathing out against Emmett's lips. The hands fisted in his shirt move to his hips.

"You," Emmett says, panting. "You're all I could think about - all day. I kept remembering last night. Remembered having my hand in you, how beautiful you were. Are. You're always beautiful to me."

Julian longs to cup Emmett's face in his hands, wishes he could bury his face in Emmett's neck, but when he's like this, Emmett wants Julian's obedience, wants him to wait until Emmett decides where and how he should move. Julian's back is to the door, so he thinks he knows what Emmett wants. He starts to bend his knees.

The hands in his shirt pull him up and push him back against the door, but more gently this time.

"No," Emmett says, his voice low. "Let me."

Julian's too stunned to interfere with Emmett's slow slide to the floor. Emmett grabs his hands and presses them against the door, then unbuckles Julian's belt and strips his pants and boxers to the floor. Julian is rock hard - he has been since Emmett grabbed him, and he curses when Emmett opens his mouth and goes down as close to all the way as he can.

There's no finesse to it, just raw need, and Julian recognizes something of his own desperation from the night before. That feeling has stayed with him all day, right along with the ache of overstretched tissues that had him sitting very carefully in his big leather desk chair.

One of Emmett's hands comes up to cradle his balls, and the other strokes down the curve of Julian's ass with the lightest of touches. Julian can't take much of the counterpoint of the gentle hands and the hard suction. He tries to hold it off, but he comes anyway, his fingers pressed hard against the door, his hips snapping forward, gasping and moaning.

When Emmett pulls away, Julian reaches down and runs both hands through soft hair, then cups them against the back of Emmett's head and pulls him close. Emmett lets his head rest on Julian's hip as his breathing slows.

"You?" Julian croaks out, wondering if his watery knees are going to hold him up much longer.

Emmett looks up at him and smiles. "Not necessary. I'm good."

Julian boggles at that a little. He's never made anyone come in their pants before. It kind of makes him feel smug. He tugs lightly at Emmett's hair, encouraging him to stand. Emmett pulls Julian's trousers and boxers up as he gets unsteadily to his feet. Julian reels him in and kisses him softly before pressing Emmett's head down his shoulder. He runs a hand over Emmett's stubbly jaw and holds on.

And Chelle finished with:

They were both quiet as they went about making dinner. Emmett always did most of the cooking, with Julian chopping what he was told to and putting water on to boil when instructed. Emmett didn't really need his help, but it was an excuse for them to trade stories, catch one another up on their day.

But not tonight.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was just quiet. But Julian was aware of every move Emmett made on some subcutaneous level, feeling his presence from across the room. Maybe it was the lingering soreness from last night or lingering buzz from the blowjob.

Julian kept thinking about both, unable to stop his mind from circling around and back again. Emmett inside him. Emmett on his knees. Emmett coming in his pants, on Julian's skin.

They had wine with dinner, not an unusual indulgence, but not a usual one either. Wine and pasta with a simple sauce of fresh tomatoes and garlic. The food was good and they managed to chat a bit while eating, Emmett relating a story about another researcher coming to visit and not quite being able to cope with Betty. Julian outlining a case the court had received that morning. The justices hadn't yet decided to review it, but Julian was hoping they would. It was a first amendment case, which was Julian's area of expertise.

As soon as the last of the dinner dishes was tucked into the dishwasher and Julian had closed it with a bump from his hip, they kissed. There were times when Julian thought that kissing Emmett was like being in the desert and finding an oasis. This was one of them. He couldn't get enough of Emmett's mouth, coming at it from different angles, surprisingly hungry for a man who'd gotten a blowjob as soon as he walked through the door.

It was Emmett who broke away. "Come on," he said, grabbing Julian's hand and leading him toward their bedroom.

Once there, Julian kissed him again, for once using his height to his advantage. He pulled Emmett close with an arm around his waist, and slid his mouth down the side of his neck, kissing and teasing.

Emmett tilted his head and let him.

Julian undressed Emmett before stripping off the t-shirt and sweats he'd changed into after the blowjob. They settled into a bed that still smelled of sex and Julian resumed kissing him, lying on top of Emmett, stroking Emmett's sides with his hands.

Emmett stroked back.

Sliding lower, Julian placed kisses across Emmett's chest. Emmett might think Julian was beautiful, but Julian was convinced it was the other way around. There were times when a just a glimpse of Emmett's broad chest and strong arms could make Julian's breath catch, and he had a real fetish for Emmett's wide back.

He wanted to slide lower, to push Emmett's legs back and apart, to press his tongue to Emmett's hole. But when Emmett pulled him close, Julian went, giving in to the need for easy kisses and silent caresses, for the simple, uncomplicated pleasure of two bodies rocking together.

Later there would be words, because they were both verbal people, because they both liked to understand the reasons for things, the connections. Even when that thing was sex, maybe especially then.

But for now there was just Emmett holding onto him, and Julian holding back.

Game ends in a tie; readers win.