thewordofweb | [Night Two]

[Night Two]

I cannot believe he fucking heckled me.

...That's about the only thing that comes to mind as I sit there with the brush and shove it through the long hair, still figuring out how I'm going about this. This, this being whatever attachments have fused and grown firmer in our time here and through yesterday (however you explain that) and this morning (I'm not sure if we can explain that away, given our sobriety) and now I'm standing at the door we share in a strapless red number that cuts down to my ankles and my bare feet press against the wooden floor.

There is a very set plan about this and I might have even stolen some products for the night, pressing pink to lips and smudges to eyes in a simplistic way the likes that Oscar Wilde would have very much approved of (it's really almost as if this place and these events would have fit so perfectly in his novels). So there I am, with a plan, and with a single knock on Joe's door, it's not going to reverse, now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The noise. It's the noises that Joe loves. He's determined to make it last, make those sounds keep coming and he bends his head and kisses Web so gentle, so soft.

He's barely even been drinking and he feels so light headed. He feels far away but so there.

I'm almost inclined to believe that Joe's forgotten it's me with every light kiss like that, but all I can do is kiss back and hope he doesn't forget that these are my lips and that this is me beneath him. My hands bury deep in his hair once more and I curve a kiss to the corner of his lips, arms lowering to wrap snugly around his lower back and to bring him closer, yet.

All the while, I utter soft utterances of his name, again and again.

He feels a grin spreading all over his face, just because Web keeps saying his name like that, over and over, like nobody else in the world has ever made him feel like that.

Joe doesn't know if that's true but he sort of wants to believe it right then.

"You're so beautiful when you smile," I murmur up to him and surge up to steal another kiss, wanting to remember this always and not the angry Joe Liebgott I've come to see too often. My splayed fingers cup his cheek and I press my forehead to his as we fuck (or is it something else, entirely) and lean in for kisses when I can.

Joe's still not buying that, but, somehow, it's not bothering Joe to hear him say it so much. He deliberately forces himself slower. He lifts up enough to cover one of Web's breasts with his hand, squeezing gently.

This time, he can't stop himself from looking straight into Web's eyes.
It occurs to him that they haven't changed one single bit.

When Joe stares at me, I look back and whimper slightly out of sheer reflex when he goes too slow for my own good. I want more. I want far more than this and I wiggle my hips to shove them up, thrust upwards in a steady hitch and try and get Liebgott to go deeper.

Happy to go deeper, Joe's hand slides down Web's thigh, tugging it higher on his thigh, changing the angle, letting him push deeper. His hand tightened on soft, yielding flesh.

"Jesus Christ, you feel fuckin' amazing."

"Goes both ways," I breathlessly gasp, eyes falling shut even if I've given them a directive to stay open and to watch Liebgott's every last move. "Oh Jesus," I whine and moan. "Joe," I beg. "I can't...I can't," again and again, six more times, and then I can because I do.

The thought's there that Joe's never gonna get tired of watching that happen, and then he reminds himself that he'd better not get used to it, and then there's this treacherous little question of what Web looks like when he comes and he's himself and Joe stamps that one down quickly because what kind of fuckin' pervert would wonder something like that now, and...

And he can't hold onto it any longer and he's tumbling, his mouth working against Web's fair skin as he comes, and comes hard, clinging on for dear life.

My arms hitch up and wrap tightly around his neck and simply hold on to him as he comes and I feel as if we're close and our sticky skin is just a testament to this. My lips find a place at his jaw and stay there as I kiss him again and again and murmur desperate little words in German that run the gamut from 'good, yes, good' to 'thank you' again and again before I collapse on the bed and draw him close as he can get.

There are things that Joe oughta be doing, like pullin' out and seeing to the rubber but, right then, all he wants to do is lie there, real still, still inside and breathe in the scent of Web's skin.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he murmurs, to keep himself from saying something else. "I was an asshole."

It nearly occurs to me to ask for clarification before I remember what Joe could possibly be talking about and my face flushes pink before tightening my grip on him. "I know you both meant well," I murmur, turning my head to speak against his temple, lips brushing skin and hair, "But I'm having a rough time of this, Joe. I didn't need." I pause, fingers touching skin. "I didn't need that. It made me..."

Well, it hurt like hell, and I don't want to admit it.

"Yeah, I know," says Joe, because he's got an idea. He presses a kiss to Webster's skin under his mouth.

"We didn't mean it, Web. We were just playin'."

"It just feels like you're always just playing," I comment quietly. "And this time...well, I can't control what I look like, Joe. It felt unfair." With him still in me, this conversation borders on the absurd, but I tuck my face into his neck and kiss there lightly. "You were good, tonight. To me. Great in bed," I laud.

"It's been a long time since any of us could just play at anything, Webster," Joe says gently and then, with a soft sound of effort, he moves to the side, slipping out of Web. He swings his legs over to the side of the bed, sorting out the rubber, tying it off and dropping it into the trashcan before he comes back to bed, pressing alongside Web, one arm tucked around him under his breasts.

"You ain't gotta flatter me," he says, kissing Web's shoulder. "I'm here already."

I lean back into Joe's touch, but quickly grow dissatisfied with our positions, given that we're close, but I can't see him. "I want to see you," I say with a distinct note of entitlement to my words as I shift and turn until I'm face to face with Joe, arms snug around his waist. "You're staying?" I ask, quietly, hoping and wanting for it, but not wanting to tempt fate.

Joe's fingers trail down Web's side, the sweet curve into his hip, and he nods, teeth just touching his lip for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm stayin'."

There are words left to be said that I don't know how to phrase and instead of speaking them aloud, I focus on touching the tips of my fingers lightly to his cheek, gentle as I can be while leaning in to press a kiss to his lips and wonder if tomorrow will be the morning that the casted spell wears off.

"Good," is my childish, almost innocent reply as I burrow in closer, finding the sheets and draping one leg over his. "I could use more furniture around here."

"Whaddya need furniture for?" says Joe, his lips brushing against Web's when he speaks. "You got a bed and somewhere to cook breakfast. Perfect."

"Not to mention a bedwarmer," I wryly tease, voice hushed as my eyes start to fall shut of their own volition. "I hear you have to pay through the nose for one of those in a place like this." One last long kiss and I curl up with him tighter, trying to ignore that wish deep inside me that thinks about having this on a permanent basis. "Are you cooking me breakfast?"

Joe's always put out a lot of heat when he sleeps and he presses himself against Web, bare skin on bare skin, as though to make a point.

"You want breakfast, I'll cook you breakfast," he murmurs, dropping a sleepy kiss into Web's tangled dark hair.

"I have ingredients for pancakes," is my sleepy request, turning slightly into his kiss and keeping close. "And I'm sorry, too," is my distant apology, faint. "For being so difficult."

"Shut up and go to sleep," murmured Joe, no small amount of affection in his voice as he closed his eyes and tucked his chin in against Web's shoulder, and held on tight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Night Two]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject