Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything. PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, whichever Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with Tag and go, baby!
"Good. Okay-" He crackles a little laugh and nudges his nose along David's jaw, hips rolling sweet and slow. Gonna take his time with this. Make it good. Make it right.
It's a slow shift of Taylor's hips against his, a careful movement, making sure that it felt good. And it does. Wash's hands trail down Taylor's back. gripping his ass to pull him closer, encouraging him onwards. It's alright, he won't break. It's good, it's better than that and he wants this, wants York more than anything right now.
"Not in a hurry-" Not that it keeps him from rolling in harder, faster with the next stroke. Wash is solid in all the ways a woman isn't and it's been fucking years since anyone- and years more since he's done this with another man. Never enough time, never enough peace of mind. But all his usual worries just drop away as he lets his forehead rest against David's shoulder as he starts up a hard, driving rhythm.
The next thrust of York's hips is harder, rubs against just the right places inside to make him pant harshly and squirm against him. It's been too long since he was this close to someone. York's breath is hot against his shoulder, his skin slick with sweat where Wash is wrapped around him. It's real, more real than he thought was possible, like everything else since the Project has just been a bad movie and finally he can stop.
It's easy to fall into this- instinct and habit take over and leave him without a real need to think or calculate much of anything. There's no reason to show off, no tricks to pull, just the snap of his hips and the clench of David's body, the way their breaths roll across skin and hands skim across shoulders. It's good in a way he hasn't had in so goddamn long. "S'good?"
"It's good," David agrees, nuzzling his face against York's hair, blunt nails digging into York's back for a moment as he rocks harder, thrusts inside him. "For you?" he asks, because he wants that too. Wants Taylor happy, the joking laid back friend that he'd known in the Project. Or maybe the person beneath that. A little more real than Agent New York had been.
"Yeah-" Oh god it's more than good. It's hot and slick and perfect and even as each grind brings them closer there's still something missing- a depth he can't reach quite like this. Grunting he pulls back, arm scooping under David's back to pull him into his lap- a twist has him rolling until David's on top and he's settled back against the cushions. "Lean a little-"
The movement has his gasping, a strangled little noise of pleasure as Taylor shifts inside him in a whole new and interesting kind of way. He moves with Taylor, gets settled on his lap, looking down at him and that's a nice picture, really is. Has him grinning. It feels amazing. He leans forward, feels the shift of the heat inside him, deeper this way, a little more full.
"Oh jesus there we go." Taylor lets his head loll back against the pillows, hips working up in tight circles. He has the best ideas, clearly- and like this? He doesn't have to worry about crushing David. His hand skates up to cradle his jaw as he starts losing the rhythm, the ache in the pit of his stomach starting to string out into something bright and hot and blinding.
It's a little awkward to lean down quite so far, but he nuzzles against Taylor's hand for a moment, turns his head to press a kiss against his palm. He rocks his hips, matching the way that Taylor moves beneath him. There's a coiling heat in his belly, and even as Taylor's rhythm starts to become disjointed, David moves more quickly, driving them both onward.
At first it felt like he could stay here forever, now he's racing headlong for the finish- body curling up tight to hold more of David as he twists and thrusts, breath coming in great shuddering gasps as he tries to hang on long enough to get David off. When in doubt, and stimuli- he sneaks his free hand down to curl around David's cock and give it a squeeze, hand working slick and hard over the sensitive skin.
His breath comes more ragged now, and he can feel every muscle in his legs. Not exactly the way he usually works out after all. He pushes himself up for a moment only to press back down, trying to shove himself over that shining edge. Not quite, but so close. He jerks when Taylor wraps a hand around him, calloused fingers rough against his cock, hips seeking more. "Christ, Taylor... please..."
If he had enough thoughts left for words, he'd probably say something about anything David wanted- but words are the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he can focus on is the clench of David's muscles, the grip of his body, and the thick heat of his cock in his hand. He rolls his thumb across the crown as he grinds in harder, faster, trying to hang on with his nails till the last possible second.
It's enough, all of it, the prick of Taylor's nails against his hip, the heat of his hand and slide of his thumb against David's cock, the heat and pressure and slide of Taylor inside him. It sends him tumbling over the edge of his climax, breath ragged, words moreso, a string of curses and begging and desperation.
As talkative as York normally is- while in the thick of it and right here, on the cusp, crest, and rolling over in orgasm he's almost silent. Forehead pressed tight to David's shoulder as he locks up entirely, his entire body wracked with shudders. It's good. It's flying, falling, crashing as he goes limp against David's bedspread.
He feels Taylor shudder, rocks against him to drag the last of the energy from the both of them. He just wants to melt against him now, could give up everything right here and now and lie here forever.
When Taylor flops back onto the bed, Wash is still numb and fuzzy with pleasure. He pushes himself up and off Taylor's body, only enough to moved the few inches he needs to collapse next to him, a sprawling heap, lazy and boneless and satisfied.
Words still aren't a thing right now, but he can move enough to roll and tangle himself in David. Tuck him close and comb his fingers through his hair- panting and sweaty and so blissfully sated. That. That had been the best orgasm he'd had in awhile.
Nevermind it's the only one he's had in awhile, shush.
The best that Wash can manage right now is a low hum of contentment as he lets Taylor pull him close against his chest, stroke his hair, treat him like something precious, like something that he can protect. It's a nice feeling. One that he could get lost in. He presses his lips against Taylor's neck, mouthing idly at it, tasting the salt on his skin.
For once, it's easy to forget what's lying outside.
"...I promise I won't tell anyone you put out on the first date." He mumbles, as soon as he can think in whole words again. This is nice but it also feels a little- heavy. He's tired of heavy. Everything outside can be heavy. in here? it needs to be nice and light and easy.
David thinks that he mishears for a second, or imagines it. There's a moment of wide-eyed incredulity before he begins to laugh, burying his face against Taylor's shoulder with helpless snickers. "Well, I appreciate you defending my honour."
"Someone has to." He shrugs and turns enough to press a kiss into David's hair. They're far from home and might never get there again but this? This is good enough. More than.
It hits a note. Someone has to protect his humanity, and it sure as hell hasn't been Wash himself. Not for a long time. "Hey," he asks quietly. "It okay if I stay here tonight?" He wasn't sure if that was something Taylor would want. If he'd prefer his space or just doesn't want things to get that close. He knows Taylor had slept with North, maybe it's weird to do it with him?
"Mmm. Sure." He squirms and shifts until he's gotten himself properly tangled with Wash- he'll worry about cleanup and the wet spot in the morning. For now? this is good. "Sleep better with someone here anyway."
Wash settles down when York is curled up against him in a tangle of limbs and warmth. Tomorrow he is sure there will be rumours flying all around the base but who cares about that right now? He gives a soft hum of pleasure and settles down. "Maybe it'll work for me too. And... thanks."
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When Taylor flops back onto the bed, Wash is still numb and fuzzy with pleasure. He pushes himself up and off Taylor's body, only enough to moved the few inches he needs to collapse next to him, a sprawling heap, lazy and boneless and satisfied.
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Nevermind it's the only one he's had in awhile, shush.
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For once, it's easy to forget what's lying outside.
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