plaguedrat | (no subject)

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(no subject)

For two months, Rat has done his best to avoid cooking meals. To him, it marks acceptance giving in to the form of the city and letting the apartment it provided become his home. Grey's presence has changed that rule. It's why he's bought carrots, potatoes, a round of beef, stock wine, and spices. For Grey.

Cooking for himself, letting this place be any kind of permanent? Rat can't do that. For Grey, though, he can.

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Peering back, Grey's expression softens. He only has to lean forward a little bit to press a kiss to his mouth.

Laughing a little, Rat stretches out a little, encouraging Grey closer. Keep kissing.

Okay. Their noses touch and bump as they kiss and it makes Grey smile a little. There's that giddiness in the pit of his stomach; that they can do this now whenever they want, privately, together.

He's similarly giddy, learning how Grey kisses, how to match him. All the "should" and self-preservation instincts seem to flow away. Being here, like this, feels strangely natural.

Eventually, the inevitable happens: Grey's hard, straining his new boxers. He scoots closer, touching, hands up under Rat's t-shirt, along his legs.

Rat's not exactly complaining, responding equally to the warmth of Grey's touch. He casts a brief glance at the clock on his oven, gauging how much time they have.

Plenty.

Can Grey? Please? He wants and his free hand fists in Rat's shirt, using the grip to pull him closer, to kiss his jaw and neck.

He nods, faster than he cares to admit, twisting around for another kiss. There's little that Rat will refuse now. It's the other reason he went out shopping today, the bag he left by the door holding condoms and lubricant. If they need it, he has some.

At some point, Grey's shirt comes off, and Rat's too. They're lying next to each other on the sofa. With a gasp, Grey slips a hand down Rat's boxers, circling it around the hardness he finds there.

His own hands skim down Grey's belly, tracing those words and scars though he avoids the name of Grey's old lover. Distracting himself, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Grey's boxers even as he ruts up against the hand around him.

Grey's stomach shivers under Rat's touch and his grip tightens. He pulls from root to tip, catching the drop of pre-come there.

He notices those shivers, feels them across his skin. It's hard not to respond in kind, arching his back and kissing him again as he wraps a hand around Grey.

Gasping into Rat's mouth, Grey's hips flex. Yes. He matches the movement of his hand to the other boy's.

This kind of touch is still a novelty for them both, particularly for Rat who'd experienced little physical intimacy at all long before arriving here. Just this sends sparks under his skin, has him jerking and squirming under Grey with want.

Even when Grey had wanted, on the train, it was all about if there was a time or place. He'd never gotten enough. Here, that they can whenever they want? Yes, please.

Like Rat had before, Grey inches his hips forward and with some wriggling out of thin material, he gets a hand around them both, stroking, his eyes finding Rat's.

His breathing goes high and sharp, tight with want. He arches his hips up, pressing hungrily against him.

Even the sensation against his palm is novel and Grey likes it a lot. His expression matches Rat's as he pants, using what leaks to coat his hand.

Rat leans up, kissing Grey again. There's less control in it now, when Grey is taking him apart so completely.

Grey doesn't know enough, doesn't have enough experience to know the power he has; that he can control how Rat feels. He's too caught up in how good it feels. How he's going to come.

It's a power he'd almost be willing to let Grey exploit, anther time. He's giving himself up to the sensation, yes, but also he heady realization that he trusts Grey. It's that, as much as the touch, that pushes him over as he comes between them.

Feeling that slick, the warmth, it only takes Grey two more strokes and he's coming, too, coating both of them, too, so that it mixes with Rat's. His face goes slack and he smiles, just for Rat.

Rat groans, sprawling back on the couch and pulling Grey down for another kiss, breathless against his mouth.

More than ever, he wants Grey's arm to heal. The things they could do once he doesn't have that cast...

Once Grey's arm heals, it will be a whole new world for Grey in a lot of ways. He dreams of running, jumping, things he used to practice in Gilliam's room in the tail.

With a heavy-lidded smile, he lifts his fingers if Rat wants a taste.

Locking eyes with Grey, Rat takes the proffered hand and lavishes attention on it, doing nothing to disguise that what he is doing is a show for Grey.

Oh. Grey shivers again, eyes dark on what Rat's doing. It's beautiful.