goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

The bottom drops out of his voice on the withdraw, dipping it down a half octave- something thick and sweet and hot wrapped around David's name. Whoever's on watch is gonna have a fun time trying to place that. Impatient and needy he rolls his hips back, trying to get him in again.

Wash groans. God he's never heard his name said like that and he loves it. "Oh god Taylor..." Doing these things to him that make it so hard to focus on anything else. He doesn't push in straight away, holds himself there, lets the anticipation wash over him, and then slowly starts to thrust into Taylor again.

He had half a mind to smirk- well. A quarter of a mind. An eighth. The rest is knotted up in the steady drag of David's cock out of him and the inevitable slow press inside. The moments he has to spend waiting for something have him growling, that same snarling noise he'd made when David tried to touch him, to take control.

This time Wash is just as eager to get moving at Taylor wants him to be. He presses fully inside and starts moving again almost immediately. Slow at first, but speeding up as he gains confidence from the hot little noises that he drags out of the other man. They mingle with his own, moans and pants as he fucks him.

God now this? This is fucking. This is hard and fast and just on this edge of desperate and he is shaking under the force of it- grinding back against David's thrust when he can manage the leverage, bowing under every shove forward with a high, tight whine. It's good and almost too much and just on this side of too rough and he loves it. He'll be feeling it for days and that's what he wants, what he needs.

Any sense of decorum is gone now. His thrusts are hard and fast, past the line and into desperate. He mouths helplessly against Taylor's bare shoulder, lapping at the water from the shower. He's not gonna last long. He slides a hand around to grasp hold of York's cock, giving a slow stroke.

The first touch of David's hand has him locking up, shuddering out a crackling moan of his name, and spilling into his palm. Too much, too good, too perfect in all the best ways. He goes limp against David's body, panting, harsh and loud in the otherwise still bathroom.

"Oh fuck," Wash gasps, and he goes still for a moment, feeling every shudder that Taylor makes right through to his cock. He'd come, just like that. Wash wraps his free arm around him, holding him tightly as he starts to move again. He's close, so close, and all it takes is a few thrusts before Wash comes, his groans of pleasure muffled against Taylor's shoulder. His harsh breathing is impossible to miss though, pressed hard as he is against Taylor's body.

Perfect. Fucking- perfect. He whines under his breath, rolling back against David for those last few, too hard thrusts, all but collapsing against the tile afterward. His legs are jelly. Sleeping tonight is gonna be fucking easy- which was kind of the goal.

Wash ends up shuddering against him, almost dead weight for a moment before he remembers how to stand up, breathe, all those little things. He still remains leaning against Taylor, face buried against the back of his neck until he has the energy to step away and pull out of him. "You okay?"

"Mmnn..." Words. Words are not a thing. Nor is moving. He is just a lump against the tile.

Wash chuckles softly, and he stays leaning against York's body comfortably for a few moments more. "I..." There's so much he wants to say and he settles for kissing the back of his neck. "You're amazing."

"Mmm...I try." He mumbles as soon as words are a thing again. "Not half bad yourself, rookie."

"Had to pick up a few things over the years, right?" Wash replies. He nuzzles against York's neck before pulling away reluctantly. "Gonna sleep tonight."

"Gonna sleep WELL tonight." He murmurs, turning enough to loop his arms around Wash's shoulders and lean in for a slow kiss.

"Sleeping better than I have in years since you got here," Wash replies. He leans into the kiss, and it's a little desperate. His fingers clutching the back of York's head. Make it count. He had to make it count.

"Nightly dose of vitamin York will do that." He snorts a little before leaning into it, warm and lose and easy, trying to gentle the desperation in Wash's grasp.

He doesn't let go. Can't let go. Even when they break apart, he pulls York back, resting their foreheads together, fingers brushing through the short hair at the nape of York's neck.

"What's gotten into you, mm?" He knows what got into HIM for the most part and enjoyed it a hell of a lot- but this was. New. Maybe just more of that skinhunger. Maybe more of that lonliness.

There's a tight knot in his throat and he can't make himself reply for a moment because of it. And there's no way that he can explain. Not now. He lets out a shuddering breath, forces a smile. "I just... I'm really glad that you're here."

"Y'know what? Even with the civil war and the shooting me on sight thing and...everything?" He rubs their noses together, smile small but real. Honest in a way he hasn't felt since before the Project. "Me too."

It's a pretty ridiculous gesture, and he loves it. It makes his smile more genuine. "I am sorry I dragged you into this. But... you reminded me what I should be." What being human was. And even knowing that York won't feel this way after tomorrow... it's good to hear.

"We all need them now and then." He's shut the water off, leaving just- them breathing and hanging on to each other in the dark showers. The run back is chilly and slippery and full of laughter but they manage to make it to his room without incident.

Well.

Without MUCH incident. One sentry may have gotten an eyefull. There also might've been whistling. Didn't matter. He had a warm bed, he had David, and he had a plan for the morning. He's all too happy to drag him into the covers and curl up around him, dropping off to sleep quickly and deeply for the first time in years. Dead to the world, is York.

He sleeps a little. Not much. Prefers to spend it awake, enjoying the feeling of York's arms around him, body pressed up against him. Because this is it. He wants to delay. He wants nothing more than to sleep out the rest of the night, and wake up with him and go on the mission with him. And he can't. Delaying any longer is going to bring Carolina down on him and he can't risk that.

He extracts himself carefully from York's arms and then slips his dogtags and the hidden memory chip off and presses them into York's palm, closing his fingers around it. He'll need that intel.

He leans in to kiss him gently, strokes his cheek. "I love you. I'm sorry."

His armour is waiting for him, and the weapons that he'd gathered up. Clears out his room of everything, activates the camo unit and then slips away before light even starts to touch the sky.

York sleeps like the dead- sleeps through Wash leaving. Only mumbles, mostly asleep and muzzy 'five more min-' when wash strokes his cheek. He's out for at least another hour, maybe two before the cold bed rouses him.

Before he blinks to where Wash had been and starts to worry until the tags in his hand click and-

No.

Not again, not another fucking message left behind after-

After.

Wash is in trouble. He doesn't know how or what or why this is happening but too much felt just off enough to be worrying and now he's sitting with the pieces again and the kid is gonna get him killed and-

He pops the chip in his tablet, grinding his hand against his good eye. Tries to wake up. To pay attention to what the kid's been trying to tell him.

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