thewordofweb | [For Liebgott]

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joe liebgott

[For Liebgott]

The obituary had been burning a hole in my pocket for weeks now. The couple of them. I'd been keeping them from Joe, tucked away in secret places he would never look, thinking I would tell him everything over dinner one night, some throwaway mention as I brushed my thumb against his palm, a soft '...so about our future, I may not be in it?' That's not going to happen. First came that fucking uniform and then Joe got his brain near-stolen.

So I've left it. I left it amidst the piles of his homework and I went to find Blair to try and find some absolution over my being such a coward. Now, I have to go back. It's been hours and if he hasn't found it, then I'm in trouble from being gone during dinner. If he has found it, well, I don't know what to expect, but I don't think it's going to be good.

I lean my head on the door for what feels like eternity. It's only five minutes. I count quietly, one-one-thousand...

This is going to take as much bravery as any jump and I push the door open and close it behind myself, just standing there and waiting to see what's going to happen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't think I'm ready to bring you home to my Ma, but yo ain't got any concept of how scary my Ma is."

He actually manages a smile then, leaning back into Webster's hand.

"Maybe I'll start coming out there with you."

"If she's anything like you, lieb, I have some concept," I assure him, leaning forward as all my weight heaves onto him, like I've been bearing it alone so long and I can't take another moment of it. "If you came, we'd stay shallow. Fish, eat, anchor down, fuck," I list off the possibilities as I let out a quiet sound of content, resting my head on his shoulder. I'm tired. I'm weary. I'm still terrified and lost.

And there's something else. "You really love me? Like...you love to screw me or Shari and Luz love me?"

"I ain't marrying you," says Joe, one hand coming up to rest warmly against the back of Web's neck.

"But, if I did, I wouldn't be runnin' away. Nobody'd have to come fetch me." He pushes is fingers through Web's hair. "But, yeah, I love to screw you too."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but like I said. I don't really want to get married, ever. To you or anyone else, here," I say, not knowing what circumstances led me to it at home. I suppose societal demands could have been all that was necessary. That and grilling from my parents. I don't say anything about a family, about kids, because the truth is, the more I think about it, the more I've started to waver on my stance. It wouldn't be so bad, not that our situation allows for it.

"So you really are stuck with me for good," I say in awe, as if everything's just sinking in and my breath is a huff of shock as I gape at him. "Joe. I need to tell you something else," I say, leaning my forehead against his. "I quit therapy."

Joe frowns, still stroking the back of Webster's neck.

"Why'd you do that? I thought it suited you, talkin' to the Doc like that."

"He's my age and he's never going to understand what we went through," I say with a quiet little sound of pleasure at the way Joe's touching my neck and I curl up with him, something else coming to mind that I haven't noticed (or I've been forcibly blind to). "Is this why you leave your pillow instead of bringing it in every night?" I ask, sliding my other arm around his waist to ease in close, eager to get away from the topic of my therapy.

"I fuckin' live here," says Joe, gently, his other hand resting between Web's shoulderblades. "Stupid to keep carting my pillow back and forth for the pretense..."

"Guess I should have been clearing out space for you," I admit and lean in again, setting us up so the wall can bear our weight. A heavy sigh and I close my eyes, still resting my head on his shoulder. "You fucking love me," I say with an ounce of smugness, laughing as if shocked as I ease in and stay close to him. "Jesus. And you are stuck with me. In an always kind of way, Joe. I hope you get that."

"Ain't like I can't keep my shit next door," he murmurs, cradling Web against him now that all of the fight's gone out of him.

"I get that. I said it, didn't I?"

"Hey, Joe?" I murmur, exhausted and peering at him as I step back. "Take me to bed? And then screw me really, really hard as you fucking can."

Joe smiles, not as broad and as bright as can and does, but genuine, even if he's a little tired around the eyes. He leans in and kisses Web warm and firm and deep, holding o to the back of his neck.

His hips nudge forward like it's the most natural thing in the world.

My lips part in a desperate effort to devour his mouth or something of the like and I whimper and moan against his lips, a needy sound as much as it is a desperate one and I cinch my arms tighter around his waist for a moment before I ease off. Rapidly, my clothes are shed. Shirt, pants, underwear, undershirt, until I stand before him as naked as I get.

Inches between us, and I keep that way. "What do you want to do to me?"

"I want you to shut up for once."

Usually, talking dirty, talking about it, it gets Joe going real good, but, today, this time, he doesn't need any of the other shit. He just needs Web underneath him, the warm press of bodies. He just needs to feel that good for a while.

He tugs his shirt over his head and lets it drop, already toeing out of his boots and starting on his pants.

"Just get into bed."

I nod and go quiet at that, sliding and shuffling under the covers and letting the whisper of blankets comfort me as I wait for him. I sit up and wait to coax him down with me, wanting to feel him as close as he gets and not let him go. If that means I don't say a word, I won't. Not outside the needy blessings I want to rain down on him.

"You look so good," I praise quietly, a slight choke in my voice yet.

"Not as good as you."

It's the easiest thing in the world to slip between Web's legs, reaching for lube with one hand as he leans down to kiss him, free hand supporting his weight.

"I'm still pissed at you," he mumbles, hair tumbled across his forehead.

I falter at that, a sharp wave and a roil in my stomach assaulting me and I lean up to kiss him, palm gently brushing that hair off his forehead and thumb stroking the warmth of his cheek. "Please don't be," I beg. "I'll be careful. I promise I will be."

"I'll get over it. I promise."

He shifts, weight onto one hip as he spreads lube on his fingers and reaches down between them, rubbing gently before he pushes on hand into Webster.

"I swear."

I swallow hard as I wait for him and spread my legs and hitch my hips up, breathless and undone with too many emotions to speak of as I stare at him with need in my expression. "Joe," I exhale, catching his gaze with a hand. "I love you," I say firmly. "I love you."

With two fingers deep inside him, Joe gives him the brightest, pureest smile he can muster.

"I love you too," he murmurs, bending his head to catch his lips, pushing deeper, twisting his wrist just so.

Something like a burst of warmth blossoms at my chest and it catches me off-guard as to how pleasant it feels, how safe and welcoming and how much I can relax in Joe's arms, kissing him and parting my lips as a moan escapes me at the stretch inside, at his fingers. "Joe," I whine softly against the kiss. "Liebling," I get out with a hitch, shifting to try and push forward to coax his fingers deeper.

"I'm getting there," says Joe, pushing his fingers deeper, following instruction, bending his head to drop a kiss to Web's chest, one then another, his own hips hitching with just plain want.

"Christ."

My hair has grown back in with the same thickness and roundabout the same color as had been there before Joe had gone to work and what really boggles my mind is that it's been that long since he did it. Time seems to slip away now and if I really stop to think, I know that we've been together like this over four months now. "I had this..." I speak, voice hitching and breaking, "...this dream about you, when we were in Austria. About you in the water. About you seducing me..."

"Mmmhmm..."

Joe presses his fingers deeper, his lips working against Web's chest, heat of his skin against the brush of hair.

"Tell me."

My back arches under the touch of his lips and words and breaths keep getting choked in my throat, unable to come out. "We were sleeping doors down, but I went out sometimes at dawn for swims. Thought maybe, maybe you'd be there. Dreamt..." I squirm and shift, wanting to jump to the next part of this routine. "I dreamt you were waiting for me. We had sex in the water."

Joe pulls his fingers out and he shifts onto his knees, stroking his dick, his eyes closed while he's listening to Web talk. He shifts between his legs and presses against him, into him, deep in one long push.

"Jesus, don't stop."

[For Liebgott]

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