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Dancing About Architecture
by
Collapsible
Part Ten
William's body stretched luxuriously under me, willing and pliant under me.
He turned his head to the side when my lips trailed up his neck hotly. With a dart of my tongue there, a whispered moan fell from his parted lips and fueled whatever it was that hovered between us, pulling us toward each other ever so pressingly. I kissed along his jaw and the soft cotton of the pillow shifted with him when his neck arched back for me to taste his throat. I felt him swallow under my lips and my hips pressed against his needfully. At our sides, our hands clung, fingers entwining blindly like a mimicry of our actions to come. I dipped my tongue in the small dent at the base of his throat, and he chuckled breathlessly. I smiled against his skin, learning him.
His chest heaved slowly but deeply under my kisses, and I disentangled my hand from his to touch his side. Another soft laugh escaped him when I ran my fingers down to his hip, and he moved as if he was both pulling away and drawing closer for more.
Ticklish. Aw.
A pleased grin danced on my lips and I flicked his nipple teasingly with my tongue. Warm fingers touched my hair hesitantly, before sinking into it when I grazed my teeth to the aroused flesh. He nuzzled the top of my head and said my name in a quiet whisper. It'd been a while since anyone had whispered my name like that, and a familiar feeling blossomed in my chest, the feeling of falling too easily, too hard. But it didn't feel reckless this time, and I pushed it aside for later inspection. It was nice to know it was there.
I traced with my mouth the lean muscles down to the dip of his navel, where I lingered for a moment so I could lie between his legs. The way his thighs parted under my touch told of experience that the body, unlike the mind, does not forget.
My nails raked gently through the dark blond curls, teasing still. I cupped his balls in one hand, cradling softly, fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin behind them. His hips left the mattress but I anticipated the movement and my lips and teeth grazed loosely around the head of his cock. The countered movement threw him off and sent a powerful shiver up his back, making it arch clear off the bed.
"God, Xander..."
His earlier confessions had left him shy and quiet, despite his open eagerness to be touched. But when he spoke, even just to breathe a word or two, his voice rose clearly through the quasi-silence of the room, quiet but louder than the muffled sounds of the early-morning traffic several storeys down. His softened accent molded my name beautifully, and I made a mental note to learn all the things that made him say it that way. It wouldn't be difficult; I already felt skilled at... at him.
I crawled back up his body and he met me in an open-mouthed kiss, slipping his lips between mine hotly. My mind went blank for a moment when his teeth grazed my bottom lip, tongue lapping at the swollen flesh. I was panting against the corner of his mouth, trying hard to piece my brain back together long enough to string a sentence together.
"We need to... Do you have anything?"
Will looked up at me, propped up on his elbows, and we were much too close for dialogue. But neither pulled back. I couldn't see anything but the deep black of his dilated pupils, eclipsing almost completely the cloudy blue. I reached up and brushed my thumb under his eye, where a healthy flush coloured his cheek.
"I, I don't. I haven't been with anyone since Liz."
Since I happened to be thinking, at that very moment, that he was quite possibly the most beautiful human to walk this earth, this took me aback. "In three years?"
He grinned sheepishly, the flush spreading. "Well, not exactly."
I gasped with a mock scowl. "William! You skank!"
"Hey!" He shoved me back, grinning.
"Shtupping your own ex-wife!"
He shoved me off the bed with his foot on my stomach and I landed in a giggling lump on the carpet.
Will leaned back on his elbows, suddenly sporting Spike's patented cocky grin and a very enthusiastic hard-on. "Well I said it was amicable."
I grabbed my jeans from a few feet away and fished out my wallet. "That's not amicable, that's daytime television." I came back to lean against the edge of the bed, brandishing a small foil wrapper. "Got it."
"You walk around with a condom in your wallet? What are you, sixteen?" he snorted, a bit breathless, decidedly sounding more and more like Spike. Did lust do that to him? I planned on finding out.
"Hey, always prepared."
"And I'm the skanky one."
I climbed back on the bed and he met me halfway, our bodies immediately curving into each other again. Further thoughts of comedic verbal sparing were effectively driven away from my mind when he sat up against me and thrust his tongue into my mouth, clamping his hand behind my head. Then he broke the kiss with an audible slurp and snatched the condom from my fingers.
"I'll take that."
I snickered and opened my mouth to comment on his sudden animation, but he pushed my shoulder until my back was against the mattress and him over me, mirroring our earlier embrace. Only this time, I was the one looking up at him.
My mouth literally watered.
I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly feeling like I'd never done this. Well I'd never done this with him, so I guess the feeling was valid. I could've put this in sappier terms, but the blood had rushed out of my head, leaving me dizzy and burning up everywhere he touched me.
His warm weight over me was like balm on aching muscles. I was never one to just lay there and take it, and being pinned under Will, while decidedly a pleasant novelty, didn't thwart that. My hands were everywhere on him, palming the moving muscles, coaxing the hardened flesh of his nipples into sending visible shivers down the curve of his spine. His breath hitched against my neck and our hips rose together, skin flush against skin, grinding hungrily. I groaned and his teeth grazed the length of my neck, tongue tasting the light sheen of sweat I could feel on my skin, the kind that only comes from another body heat closely feeding your own.
He licked my collarbone, tongue flat along the length of it, feral and possessive. And it felt like it was something he was familiar with, something not quite new to 'William'. He muffled my whimper with a hard kiss, one that sent me reeling, the kind of kiss I usually gave when I was trying to prove a point and didn't have the words for it. But his felt a little less thought-out, and a whole lot messier. His hand reached between us and took a solid hold of my cock, holding my hips down with his free hand. He faced me, looked like he was going to say something, but instead ducked down and out of my view.
Good GOD.
Then heat, incredible heat, where I still expected cold. Wet heat and wet sucking sounds and warm, wet fingers stroking and caressing and examining each inch of flesh they could reach. I felt devoured, in the most literal sense of the word. It felt more honest, more earnest than anyone's mouth had ever felt on me. The sincere, clumsy need easily outshone any lack of experience he might've had. His hair tickled my belly and I both felt and heard him moan. My fingers dug into the soft linen and I was about to reach down to yank him away - too soon, too close, gotta make this last, gotta be for him, I was a jerk to him last night - but it was warm and wet and firm and just right, the bastard, I could've kill Angel for teaching him and - gone. Gone? Gone, but replaced with those fingers, stroking and caressing with intent now, unrolling the condom down my length. A goodbye kiss and he was back over me, but not for long. This part I did best. This part I wanted to do for him.
I fastened my mouth over his and held him against me, until he was back under me. Panting, I grinned at how disheveled he looked, even more breathless than I was, and he answered with a smirk straight out of my youth. I leaned down again and covered it with a demanding kiss, way past the delicate softness of foreplay. He bit at my lips, breaths melding, noses bumping in haste. I spoke into the kiss, unsure of the words that were coming out of my mouth.
"We need... shit, you don't have..."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, I do have something... Let me just..." He reached for the bedstand, fumbling blindly for the drawer. It might've been easier to let go of his mouth for the operation, but that would've been asking way more of me than I was capable of at the moment.
Then he grinned into my mouth. "Woohoo!"
"I gotta say," I gasped, catching my breath and admiring that lovely face, brightened by arousal, "I've had guys say a lot of things during this, but I never got a 'woohoo!'"
Will shoved a small plastic bottle in my hand. Took me a moment to remember how to read English.
"Girlie hand lotion."
"Liz's."
"There's something truly twisted about this," I managed to snicker, flipping the cap open with my thumb. Mmm, aloe.
I only had one hand free, so Will grabbed the bottle and squirted a generous dollop of lotion in my hand, before tossing the bottle so far away from the bed it skidded into the livingroom. His knees hooked over my hips and I reached down and past his throbbing erection. He moaned when the cool substance touched his skin, but immediately relaxed into my touch, so much so that I could just slip one finger in, easily. At this point, I thought my heart would just pound out of my chest. If only he'd stopped looking at me, for just a moment so I could've gotten myself together - but he didn't, and the words just tumbled out of me, tangled, cliché but so heart-felt it almost hurt to utter them.
"God... so warm, Will. Like, like daylight. Like you. And tight, so tight, too tight... I can't..." He gasped when I slid a second finger in, with no resistance but an enveloping warmth. He hung on to my every word, fighting to keep his eyes open and his focus on my lips.
"Xan, Xander..."
"Shh... yeah like that." I shifted so my hand could move more easily. "Tight and hot and I can't wait to get inside you and I want to be inside you right now and I can't, but I will, just... just hold still for a moment, hold still. One more, just one more and it's in and I want you around me, me inside you, you know how it is. It's good, Will. God, I want you. I'm sorry about last night." I dropped my forehead to his chest, loving the feel of him around me like this. I couldn't imagine what it would be like in a moment. "I can't-- I can't wait and it has to be now..."
He pulled me up and kissed me hard.
"Spike--"
"Please," he breathed into my mouth.
I nodded, hair in my eyes but blinded more by the ghost feel of his wet mouth on me, colouring out of the lines of my lips. I leaned in, and there was more kissing, soft kissing, kissing was good. Chin brushing against chin, cheek against cheek, mouth against mouth. Tongues licking each other's lips. My hair fell on his face, against the lighter strands of his curls, and I pressed my cheek to Will's as I pressed in. My lips parted in a silent gasp at the feel of it, letting me in and closing around me, perfectly.
Nuzzling the heated skin at his temple, I tried to think really, really hard about lint and taxi cabs and reorganising my dark room and anything but the way Will felt pressed against me, around me. Anything but the warm slick-slide of skin on skin. Anything but the hot press of Will's cock between our bodies. Anything but any of that, anything but now, and here, and him, and it was no good because I couldn't think about anything else as Will lay there for me, writhing and moaning, again for me, and because of me.
Then I was moving, hard and fast and deep, and somewhere in the back of my mind I worried that I might be hurting him, but he thrust up as I thrust down and cried out, high and sweet. The sound spurred me on, and it was all I could do not to come right then and there. It wouldn't be long, I knew; I could tell from the hot rush of sensation pooling at the base of my spine.
With a heave, I pushed all of my weight onto one arm, and reached between our bodies with the other hand to take Will's cock. I grasped firmly and pumped, once, twice, three times in unison with the rhythm of my own thrusts. And that was all it took. Will arched up, away from the mattress and into my body, hot seed spurting into the space between our stomachs, making the slip and slide of skin that much easier. One last thrust, hard and deep, and I was there too, and it was so good and so right and the world fell away until all that was left was me and Will and that still surprising heat.
Part Eleven
I woke up slowly, the way you do when you've slept particularly well. I was ensconced in a warm cocoon of soft sheets, thick down comforter and plush pillows that curved around my body just right. I was also sprawled on my stomach, stark naked, and frankly completely unwilling to move. The afternoon sun warmed my right cheek and shoulder and I groaned happily, not missing my own bed at all.
You know that special smell people's bedrooms have? The nice kind. Mostly it makes you aware that you're not in your own things, while leaving you slightly thrilled for the exact same reason. Will's room had that, only it had a little something familiar too, and I just felt like closing my eyes again and falling right back asleep, lungs full of it.
The room was silent and I knew I was alone. I smiled and listened to him moving around in the other room. I could hear the radio playing softly, and the sound of papers being moved around as quietly as possible. I loved this, this brief little feeling of domestic bliss you manage to experience after the first few times, if it's the right guy. I could've done this for hours, bask in the smell and warmth of his things, but I had this nagging urge to join him.
And, I had to pee. Gah.
Lazily I pushed the blankets off of me and dragged myself out of the bed, my feet meeting the textured surface of an area rug, then lukewarm hardwood as I made my way to the door that I assumed led to the bathroom. I padded along sleepily, stretching and enjoying the nakedness. I never slept in the buff normally - made all the other times less special, I always thought.
The bathroom tiles were cold, and it woke me up a little more. I stared at the painting hanging on the wall over the toilet, which I could swear was an original... something. My art history was a little fuzzy. But, points for putting something entertaining on that surface. My kind of guy.
Hell, who was I kidding? Very much my kind of guy. Or perhaps my guy, period. I'd wait a bit more before making that assessment, but it was looking good. Meanwhile, I was alone naked in a nicely decorated bathroom, with only one of my two itches satisfied.
I made my way back out and picked up my boxers from where they'd landed earlier. I slipped them on, taking in the room around me again. How many books did the man OWN?
I wandered out of the bedroom silently, and I had to smile when I saw Will. He was sitting at the dining table in the same outfit he had greeted me in this morning and his hair fell into his eyes, over his glasses, as he leaned forward over a sea of papers that covered the entire surface of the table. His forehead rested on his fist, and he was reading with a pen in his hand, so engrossed he didn't notice me. I leaned in the doorway and watched him for a few seconds, a wide smile spreading across my face.
The song on the radio ended and the host started speaking again, stirring Will out of his trance. I came closer and he looked up at me, his sudden smile reaching his eyes instantly. He got up as I came closer, taking off his glasses and leaving them on top of the paper he was reading. Our bodies brushing against each other.
"Hey," I whispered, running my hand up his arm.
"Hey. Slept well?"
"On that cloud on a box spring? Yes."
He grinned and leaned in, running his nose along my cheek to my ear. I felt his hands on my hips, holding me closer, flush against him. I backed up a little and ended up leaning against the table, Will firmly nestled between my thighs.
Nuzzle. Lick. Men did not giggle.
'Good morning' brush of lips, 'I still want you here' fingertips against the throat. A quiet appreciation for the shared intimacy of a good 'after'. I didn't want to go anywhere, not with the fingers walking up my spine like this, feather-light. I kind of felt like he was trying to adapt his caresses to fit a man, but he seemed distracted, something that might've had to do with my tongue in his ear and my sudden need to get my fingers between cotton and skin.
His own fingers dug gently into the material of my boxers over my right butt cheek. "Hungry?" He was a little breathless, despite his best effort to sound conversational.
I let blond curls tickle at my eyelids, my nose. "Famished."
"Lunch, then?" His thumb hooked under the waistband.
I pulled back slightly just to look at him, still awfully close. I was grinning like an idiot. "Sounds good." I leaned in for the kiss he was practically dangling in front of me.
"DADDY!!"
And because history tends to repeat itself, Will was pulled away from me by a small person wedging himself between us. His eyes didn't leave mine and he bent to pick up his child, leaning in to give me a quick kiss on the lips before unleashing an obscene amount of attention to his son. I grinned, feeling silly and happy, and reclined back against the table to watch.
Just when Julian had his little arms around Will's neck (everybody seemed to be wanting to do that), the front door opened wider and let in Liz, a vision in white and tan, a vision currently gesturing like a mad woman. She tossed her shoulder bag on the chair next to the door and took off her coat, ranting on.
"Hey Will. Ugh, you wouldn't believe what happened to me today, already. Those two Dallaire I bought from the family of the artist? I'm supposed to have them shipped to Nina Senack. I said, London, Ontario. I was quite clear. Ontario. In Canada. Not London, England. My paintings are in fucking Europe. Morons. My assistants are all morons."
With that she disappeared into the kitchen. Will threw me an amused glance. Julian squirmed out of his arms and ran to his bedroom, shouting something just as his mother started again, re-emerging with a bottle of Perrier.
"So I tell Sharon Pell to talk to someone, anyone, just get me my shipment back ASAP, because if I have to get my own ass on a plane and get it myself, someone's gonna get hurt on the other end. So she says fine, and then ten minutes later her assistant calls me back and says she has to fly to Albuquerque for an urgent meeting she probably just made up, which means I have to deal with Linda Lyall again, and I want to quit and go live in an igloo somewhere very cold."
She took a swig of her Perrier, finally noticing me. She swallowed and grinned.
"Xander!"
I crossed my arms over my bare chest, with a little wave. "Hey Liz."
She sauntered over, looking quite pleased with herself. She looked really good, right out of a Calvin Klein ad for the hip business woman, and I could easily see why Will wasn't completely over her yet.
"Well. I'm so glad I'm here! Please, don't mind me. Pretend I'm not even here. I'll just watch from over there."
Will took the Perrier bottle from her hand and took a sip. "A very cold place, eh? As opposed to those igloos they have in Ecuador."
Liz kicked his leg and took the bottle back. "I'm not kidding. Whose idea was this?"
"What? You doing what you do? Yours."
"Yeah, shut up." He grinned back at her and she turned to me, appraising me openly. "You're both so pretty."
Will leaned closer to me. "You'll have to excuse my ex-wife, she fancies herself a bit of a fag hag."
"Hell yes. But that's for another time. So - Jules ate. He's really behind with his project for class so you might want to make him start on that tonight. If he says I said it was alright for him to call my mother about the cake thing, you're allowed to laugh at him. He'll know what it means." She picked a little fuzz from his t-shirt while she spoke. I smiled. "So I should be a little late on Tuesday, not a whole lot, I'll call to let you know. Meanwhile, try not to, you know, have too much sex in front of my kid. It'll make me look bad."
"Yes, it will."
She leaned in to kiss him lightly, and started toward the door. "I'm late, or I'd stay to take a few pictures, honest. Catch you tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"'Kay. I'm off to deal with Lyall and her merry men. BYE JULES!"
"BYE MOM!"
She grabbed her coat and her bag, and then she was gone, and the apartment was quiet again. I looked at Will.
"She always like that?"
He smiled, a little wistful. "Liz? Yeah."
He stepped closer to me and the back of my thighs hit the edge of the table again. He leaned in for a long kiss, quiet; I could hear the wheels grinding in his head as his tongue met mine. I cupped the back of his head and brought him closer. After a few moments he broke the kiss but stayed close, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips. He flicked a black curl out of my eyes. "You really ARE pretty."
"You're not too shabby yourself," I whispered back and I could tell he wasn't thinking about Liz anymore, which made me feel really, really good. I couldn't compete with the mother of his child, I knew it, but I'd be happy with just the little part of his heart he was giving me now. Beyond happy.
"You can go check on your kid. I'll go make myself decent."
His hand crept up the leg of my boxer, on the back of my thigh. "Must you really?"
I grinned and extricated myself from his embrace, reluctantly. "I want to make a good impression. Wouldn't do to let your kid know just how much of a skank I really am."
When I came back out wearing the same clothes I'd had on for the past twenty-four hours, Will was on the phone with someone from the University. I poked around the living room a bit, then wandered to Julian's room. I wasn't sure why. I knocked on the half-closed door.
"Come in, Dad!"
I pushed the door open a bit and poked my head in. Julian was sitting on the floor amidst an impressive spread of little train tracks, the plastic pieces not yet put together. His backpack and coat were on his bed, and his bag was open, its content half spilled out on the bedspread.
"Hey, Julian. It's Xander."
He looked up. "Hi."
"Can I come in?"
"Yes. Be careful, don't step on my tracks."
"Got it." I tiptoed my way to the desk opposite the bed and pulled out the chair. "Quite the collection you've got there."
He beamed. "I just got it. For my birthday. I'm not too sure how it works yet, but my mom said I just had to read the instructions that came with the box."
I took the time to watch him, his little fingers busy putting together the plastic caboose. "Your mom is wise."
"She says she knows everything." He looked up at me, big eyes wide and... absurdly blue. My breath caught in my throat, and I smiled off his grin. "But I think she's lying."
I tried to act normal, like I wasn't having a life-changing moment, right here sitting on his little desk chair. "Well, most mothers like to pretend they do. And let me tell you something - you can work that to your benefit."
"That's what my dad said."
"He's a smart guy."
He fiddled with the caboose a little, studying me silently. Then, "Are you my dad's boyfriend?"
Oh, kid. Julian. God, I hoped so. I rested my elbows on my knees, examining my hands, like they would tell me what to say. "I..."
The door creaked on its hinges and I looked up, seeing Will standing in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. He was looking at me too, waiting for my answer. His expression was unreadable, and for a moment I was scared.
"Am I?" I said quietly, suddenly scared of losing this little family I had become fond of in mere hours.
But Will nodded, wordlessly, barely visibly, and smiled softly.
I exhaled shakily, and gave Julian his answer, longing to hear it aloud myself. "Yeah, I guess I am." A grin threatened to split my face in two.
Part Twelve
"Y-ello!"
"It's done."
"It's done?"
"Done. Packing up as we speak."
"Great!"
"I'll have the whole thing shipped to you overnight. Matt needs to tweak it."
"He knows this?"
"He does. But remind him."
"Yeah."
"He can't mess this one up."
"I'll leave a note. You done with your day then?"
"Yup. Heading back to the apartment. Might go see Will."
"Can I whine?"
I smiled, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear so I could use both hands to fold the tripod legs. "Whine away."
"WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME!"
"Never. I have sex here. Here is good."
"You don't love me. And your dog is convinced you've abandoned him. He's got this homicidal glint in his eye I worry about."
"Rub his belly."
"He wants YOU to rub his belly, Xander. We miss you over here."
I sighed. "I know. I miss you too. It's friggin' cold here. I like September better in California."
"I bet."
"But again, sex. Sex with a really hot guy I'm in love with. I'll handle the cold."
I heard her smile. "I like you this happy."
"You like me cranky, too. You're indiscriminate in your fondness of me."
"You're not making other friends, are you? Because we'd have to fly over and kill them."
"No no, I'm as anti-social as can be. Promise. A real bastard. Everybody hates me here."
"Cool."
"You're still scouting for me, right? I only have three things next week. Book me stuff."
"Yeah, okay. Not ideal, though, you know. The whole long distance thing. You'll have to figure something out."
"I will, I will."
"Alright. Go. Go have obnoxious afternoon sex with your boyfriend."
"I think I will. It's a lovely day to get laid."
Her laugh rang clear in my ear. I missed it. "I take it back. You're annoying when you're this happy."
"Bye, Sarah."
"Love ya!"
I flipped the cel closed and shoved it in my pocket, hoisting two folded tripods and three shoulder bags. I trudged out to the street where I hailed a cab and headed back to the place I'd started, in the last four months, calling home.
~*~*~*~*~
'You have three new messages.'
BEEEEEEEEEEEP
'Morning, boys. It's Sarah. Xander, you there? Pick up. Pick up! Alright, guess you left already. I'll try your cel.'
BEEP
'Hi Will, it's Janet. Mom asks if you and Jules can come over for dinner on Sunday. Lizzie has the details. See you then, hopefully!'
BEEP
'Hey luv. I'm having a late lunch - care to join me if you're done? I'll be outside the Commons around two. See you in a bit - love you!'
BEEEEEEEEEEEP
'End of messages.'
I strolled across the wide expanse of thick green grass by the NYU Commons, squinting behind my sunglasses at the bright afternoon sun. I spotted Will sitting under one of the neatly manicured trees, chatting with a few students. I stopped and just watched for a few minutes, smiling at the sight.
How pretty my boy was, again with the rolled-up shirt sleeves and the loosened tie. It had gotten warm around noon, and Will laid there, stretched out and propped up on his elbows, his legs crossed at the ankles, sans jacket. He had sunglasses on too, and he laughed at something the young woman next to him said. Their laughter drifted to me and I wandered over, hands in my pockets, their light mood contagious.
The students noticed me first. I had to walk all the way to him till the tips of my shoes touched his pants for him to notice me. He looked up and beamed at me, a hand up to block out the sun.
"Xander! You made it!"
"Yup. Shoot went well. I'm all yours."
"That's what I like to hear."
He got to his feet, retrieving his jacket from the ground, shaking blades of grass out of it. He excused himself and we walked away. Will threw his jacket over his shoulder, and his free hand brushed against mine, between us, the back of his fingers lingering against mine.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Dunno. How much time do you have?"
He looked at the inside of his wrist, where his watch always fell (it was too big for him, but I didn't say anything - I found it cute as hell). "An hour... and a half."
"Yeah? Wanna take a cab and go home? We can... eat there."
He smirked at me and we hit the street, where he finally took my hand in his, our fingers entwining easily. "Yes. Eating. Food. I said lunch, right?"
"Well we could also have sex. Sarah told me to have sex with you this afternoon. It would be rude not to, I would think."
Will peered at me suspiciously, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Sarah said this? Has she been talking to Liz?"
I hailed a passing cab and herded Will into it, my hand lingering on the small of his back. "You'd think. Sadly she is very capable of interfering in our sex life on her own."
"That's hardly interference," he pointed out.
I agreed. "Hurry up, time's a-wastin'. Sandwiches to make, head to give..."
True to my promise, once we got home I couldn't take my hands off him. He calmly perused the contents of the fridge, while I was more interested in the content of his pants, to put it bluntly. My hands were untucking the back of his shirt, feeling his back, his stomach, my arms around him, my face in his neck, in his hair, my mind in the dirty places he often took me just by suggesting we go there.
"Want some iced tea?"
"No. I want you."
A kiss on the neck, always a sure-fire way to redirect his train of thought my way. The cold from the refrigerator touched our skin, wintery, bracing. My hand traveled down while his own reached out blindly to hold on to the edge of a shelf. I pressed my body into his and both of us further into the cold. Bottles rattled in the door, some on the top shelf.
I turned him around and sunk to my knee, my hands working his belt. I didn't need to look; instead I watched him, his closed eyes, his hair mussed by my attentions, the serious but aroused part of his lips, the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the cold plastic. He shuddered and licked his lips. He was warm in my mouth, achingly responsive.
My hands slid up the back of his thighs and I brought him closer to me. The tiles under my knees were cold and hard, but familiar. So was his hand in my hair, not gripping or pulling but caressing, fingers raking soothingly against my scalp, making me moan helplessly against his flesh. If I thought I knew him, how to work his body, what made him sigh and gasp - I had nothing on him, on how he played me, on his knowledge of the littlest things that made my knees go weak, that made my heart melt, that drove me absolutely out of my mind. His fingers traced lazy patterns in my hair and barely paused when my teeth grazed his skin. His breath hitched on my name, whispered like a thank-you. The last syllable was swallowed into a moan as I cradled his balls in my hand, kneading softly, loving the warmth and feel of my lover.
A gentle pull of his fingers. "Xander…"
"Yeah."
I stood up on shaky legs and he turned back against me, looking at me move from over his shoulder. I kissed his neck, licked his throat, his ear, and he closed his eyes again, moaning happily. My fingers fumbled for my belt and moments later we were flesh on flesh and I pressed him to me eagerly, just wanting to feel him for a moment before I lost myself in him. He coughed in the cold air; a thin cloud of steam formed before his mouth to disappear immediately, leaving his lips dry. He licked them and coughed again.
I ran my hand along his arm. "Cold?"
"Mm-hm..."
"Come here."
I pulled him to me and closed the refrigerator door. He clutched at my hands around him and moments later I had him bent over the counter, on the cutting board, my slicked up fingers inside him, knowing just where to touch to make his hips rise involuntarily into mine. I cupped his body with mine and slid into him, hearing the sudden sharp intake of breath. His fingers clutched at the thick wood of the board; mine at his waist, his wrinkled shirt, and I rested my forehead on his back, between the shuddering muscles of his shoulders, keeping us together as much as I could, before starting to move.
Will was typically a quiet one during love-making, most eloquent with his hands or lips or eyes - when he opened them to look at me, which usually made me into a blubbering idiot - but today, in the midst of an afternoon tryst in his brightly lit kitchen, I heard soft moans fall from his lips, my name, supplications, my name again. All manners of deities were invoked - improperly, but not without heart - then dismissed in favour of me, it always came back to me. Only it was never said for my benefit, or even, I suspected, for his. The whispered words brushed onto the wood and died there, unchecked, while his hands gripped my arm laced around his waist.
I came with a shiver, the kind that starts at the base of your spine and just shoots up to your brain and straight into each of your limbs. My arm clenched around him and my mouth gaped wordlessly against the warm - warm! - cotton of his shirt. My eyes squeezed shut and everything went black, with the pounding in my ears and the throbbing in my gut, and next thing I knew it was minutes later and I hadn't notice Will coming. He had, I could feel it in the way his back heaved softly under me.
I smiled lazily and turned to rest my cheek against his back. "I love you..."
If Will was usually quiet during sex, he was even more so afterwards, and he did stay true to that now. My words were met with a sweet silence, one I treasured more than anything. His hand squeezed mine where they were still clutched together.
I sauntered over to the ringing living room phone, feeling too giddy for my own good, I'm sure.
"Sawyers residence!"
"Xander?"
"Hey little man! What's up?"
"Nothing. I was bored. Mommy's napping."
"Yeah, you probably suck the life right out of her, don't you," I accused mockingly.
"I do NOT!" He laughed.
"You're a beast-child."
"I AM NOT!" Giggles. I'm good.
"You're not? I'm disappointed, Jules. Beast-children are cool."
"Beast-children are hairy."
"Hey, I resent that. I was a very well-adjusted non-hairy beast-child myself. With hair only on top of my head and all."
"You're lying!"
"I am. I'm sorry. I was hairy all over the place, clogging drain holes everywhere. Speaking of which, did you want to talk to your dad? He's in the shower. I could have him give you a call when he gets out?"
"No, it's okay. You'll do."
I'll do.
I love this child.
tbc
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