goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"I-" voice dropped low and weighty, he turns to hook an arm around Wash's waist and pull him in close and tight. "Have been think'n about this all damn day."

Skin on skin, lips on throat and every soft twist of Wash's breath from last night stuck with him hard.

Wash slides his arms around York in return, resting them against the curve of his ass. It presses them close, bodies flush together. He groans softly at that, presses his forehead against York's shoulder. "Couple of days and I need you like fucking air."

"Skin hunger." He smooths a hand up Wash's spine, ending at the nape of his neck. "It's- you get good at ignoring it. And when you're finally somewhere you can indulge it's like- "

Shrugging he focuses more on playing with Washes hair, mouthing at the skin of his jaw. For a long moment this is all he needs. A warm body that he trusts- someone he likes. "Getting drunk."

It makes sense. Prettier way of putting it than Wash could have thought of. He shudders with the touch, eyes dropping closed when York's fingers brush against the AI port at the back of his neck. York's lips are hot against his jaw, and Wash wants him to leave a mark, some proof, evidence that he had been there.

"Yeah. Feel that way. Could drown like this."

"Drown'n with you ain't so bad a way to go." He drags his nails back up Wash's neck, rolling his thumb over the scarred implantation site. His own wasn't so rough, so ragged. A clean scar of burned skin where Delta used to live- taken from him after he'd nearly died. Tex took care of him.

Carolina's had been angry too and a dim flicker of a memory has him dragging his teeth along Wash's throat, the flat of his thumb rolling back and forth over Wash's scar. David's scar. Here they're just Taylor and David and everything else doesn't matter.

It drags a soft noise from him, something between a groan and a noise of pain. It's the memories more than actual hurt though. He keeps that spot covered whenever he's out of his suit, the scarred spot that he'd clawed at trying to rip Epsilon out of his head.

"Hey Taylor," he says,, tilting his head so he can look him in the eyes. "When this is over, let's go somewhere. Some nice outer colony with an ocean."

"Yeah babe?" It trips out of his mouth before he can stop it, not that he really wants to try. It fits. In a weird sort of way he hasn't thought about in for fucking ever, it fits. That's more than enough reason for him to turn his lips against David's jawline before he pulls away. "Go surfing, tan naked?"

Wash's breath catches with the endearment, and then he grins, a hint of red colouring his cheeks. "Yeah. That. Get some colour on our skin after spending near a decade in a sealed suit." It didn't exactly help when he was already pale.

"Sounds like a plan." Something to shoot for. Something to hold on for. He thought he'd had that with Carolina and up until that last moment where he didn't trust her enough to include her- he had. But this? This is good.

This will work.

He trusts David. "We're gonna have to order in. I can't cook for shit."

It's something to hope for. Something to guide him, even if he's never going to get it. The person he could have been wants it and maybe that's enough to keep him heading in the right direction. Just a little longer. That's all he needs.

"I've got money. We could hire a chef."

"Mmm. That could work." He tugs Wash along, stepping back to the bed little by little. "Just you and me and a cottage by the sea, a lot of food that's bad for us, working it off with lazy sex in the afternoon?"

Wash lets himself be tugged along, his hands moving to rest against York's hips. He grins at that, a hungry smile. "I like that. I like it a lot. I could pick up skateboarding again."

Man it's been a long time since he thought about that.

"Think you could teach me a few tricks?" There's none of the teasing from yesterday- Taylor's already tugging at the fly of his jeans, popping the button and shucking them along with his boxers. He'd stripped down David to nothing the other day- now it's his chance to see and touch and tease.

"I'm sure that I can manage that," Wash replies. He slides his hands down over Taylor's hips, following as he shucks his pants, his thumbs smoothing over hipbones. "Hope you don't mind getting your knees scraped up."

"You say'n I'll spend a lot of time on them?" HE snorts a soft laugh, hands skimming along David's ribs as he pulls him close. All that skin, all that warmth that he hasn't had for about twenty four hours and it's like he said. He's drunk on David. Drowning with him. "You want me on them now?"

"That can be arranged," Wash replies. He leans in to press his lips against Taylor's shoulder, the curve of his neck, every inch of skin that he can reach. It's intoxicating, everything that they have, everything that they are. He doesn't want to let go. Can't let go. "How 'bout I get on mine. Got practice from all the skateboarding."

"Jesus, David. When'd you learn to be smooth?" Somewhere in the past decade, probably. He's not gonna complain. Not when it gets him that mouth on his skin and that cut of a smile on the kid's face.

"What, you think you're the only one who picked up a few tricks on shore leave?" he says. He presses a brief kiss to Taylor's lips and then slides down to his knees and peers up at him, his grin nothing short of wicked.

"When did we leave you alone long enough for you to pick 'em up?" He sags back against the bed, hands sliding from David's waist to his shoulders to his jaw, cradling his face. That's a smile he could get used to seeing more often and he'd be lying if it didn't make him just as hard as everything else about him.

"Plenty of times you were too drunk to notice." He leans into the touch where Taylor cradles his jaw, smile never fading, then turns his head slightly to press a kiss against his palm.

"Clearly I wasn't paying you enough attention." But that could be said of anyone- as knotted up as he'd been about Carolina he'd missed- well. A lot of things. But not anymore. It's just them, the slide of his thumb across David's bottom lip, the heat building between them. "Impress me, Rookie."

"Obviously you were distracted." He flicks his tongue out against Taylor's thumb, tasting the pad of it. There's one more flash of a grin and then Wash leans in and licks deliberately against the head of Taylor's cock.

He opens his mouth to say something in reply- something sarcastic or something smooth, but he's cut off by the sharp warmth of Wash's tongue. Hands have always been a thing for him- a mouth, a tongue on his? Flares an aching heat up in the pit of his gut. That's nothing compared to actually having David's mouth on him properly- his hips twitch forward, he has to close his eyes to focus on the sensations- lest the visual ruin him completely.

There's something to that, something that Wash notes and hides away in the back of his mind, like he'll ever get a chance to use it. But for now, Taylor's cock is against his lips and he teases the slit for a moment before licking a long line from there downwards, face pressed against the firm places of his belly.

If asked Taylor will say he didn't whine at the rasp of David's tongue. He doesn't WHINE. He. Moans in an erotic fashion. But he does in fact whine a little, head lolling back as he sucks in a shaky breath. The hands still cradling David's face smooth back through his hair, petting along his scalp. Guiding, encouraging- never holding. Never any semblance of restraint, ever.

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