Meanwhile, in 1942...
GZ is kicking my ass, and school is doing the same, which is completely BALLS. Drastic measures are called for, but in the meantime I wrote some WWII AU, which I have been telling myself to go to sleep. For being indirectly about war it's awfully soothing.
Yeah, I'm weird. You all knew that. Also, I am too lazy to find my header template.
B/N. WWII AU. NC-17. 832. References this, in case you need it.
Nate opens his mouth to gasp, pulling his head up from the pillow so he’ll breathe in more than the smell of stale feathers and the sun washes over his face, warm and gold. If he didn’t already have his eyes closed he wouldn’t be able to stand the light. Even still, behind his eyelids is bright, too bright for the blood Nate’s been seeing every time he blinks. This morning there’s nothing but the sun there.
Colbert nips his side again and presses his fingers deeper, twisting them to make Nate’s thighs shake. When he slips a third one in Nate’s hips go rigid and he chokes on his groan.
“You’re okay,” Colbert tells him quietly, his thumb stroking the place where his fingers meet Nate’s ass. “Just wait.”
Nate drops his face down to the pillow again, breathing through the hot-cold shivers and initial urge to move away. It always feels like this, but the feeling always fades. He gets a hand under himself and starts stroking his cock to speed up the process.
“There you go,” Colbert says in a sun-warm sex-rough voice. He presses his mouth to the back of Nate’s thighs and starts to fuck Nate’s ass with his fingers.
Pleasure dawns in Nate’s body in slow increments, thick and hot in his ass and balls and belly with every stroke of his hand and Colbert’s until he’s whimpering into the pillow, embarrassed about the noise but unable to stop.
“‘M ready,” he manages to get out, pulling his hips up high so Colbert’s fingers slide halfway free.
“Thank God,” Colbert rasps.
He pulls the rest of the way out, slick fingers rubbing over Nate’s hole for a moment before they disappear. Nate takes a deep breath, feeling empty and suddenly strange. It’s quiet in the room aside from the heavy thump of Nate’s heart inside his head and it seems like it takes no time before blood starts to drip on the cobblestones.
He shakes his head to dislodge the image, face still pressed down to hide the tremble in his jaw. He stretches his leg back until his ankle scrapes over Colbert’s knee.
“Almost ready.” Colbert rubs his hand over Nate’s calf, fingers lingering in the sweat-damp ditch behind Nate’s knee.
Nate sends a hand back past his own body, reaching blindly. Colbert catches his hand and guides it down to his cock, letting Nate feel the slickness of the blunt tip and the shaft. He squeezes his hand over Nate’s and grunts before he returns Nate’s hand to the sheets, shifting so his cock rubs over Nate’s hole, pressing in slowly.
This isn’t new either, and Nate should be used to it, but there’s still that split-second of too much before his body eases into the feeling. He adjusts quickly now though, listening to Colbert’s quiet panting.
“Jesus Christ,” Colbert grunts into Nate neck, blanketing Nate’s back, pulling out and fucking back in, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Yeah,” Nate agrees, turning his face so Colbert can hear him. He still has his eyes closed. Colbert mouths his jaw, the shell of his ear, whispering, “Touch yourself,” against the corner of his mouth.
He does, trying to match his hand to Colbert’s hips, his toes curling when he gets it right. His mouth drops open and just for a second he freezes, lit up with good feelings. Then Colbert’s hand is under his chest, hauling him up from the pillow, leaving his head hanging down. He almost falls back down since he’s only got one hand to support himself, but Colbert’s got him.
Colbert bites his cheek, his mouth, his tongue sliding deep for Nate to suck on. He’s thrusting deep and hard, filling Nate with every stroke and making the metal feet of the bed frame thump into the wall.
Nate groans into Colbert’s mouth, jerking his cock faster, centering his weight and pressing back into Colbert. He’s not ready to come yet but his belly is starting to go liquid and he has to hold in his babbling, mouthing at Colbert uselessly instead.
Colbert sinks back onto his knees, pulling them completely upright so he can guide Nate’s hips and thrust at the same time. His face is close to Nate’s, breath rushing by Nate’s mouth.
“Open your eyes,” he says, fingers digging into Nate’s thighs.
The first thing Nate sees when he blinks open his eyes is the sun rising outside the window, rusty-pink. It’s so bright that for a moment Nate’s vision washes out. He blinks hard, turning his face so instead he sees tip of Colbert’s nose and the slope down to his mouth. His lips are shiny with spit and blurring with light, parting around the shape of Nate’s name.
That gets Nate shaking, filling with that light instead of blood, falling apart even though he’s right here, his temple touching Colbert’s, the backs of his knees damp with sweat and his mouth open in a soft oh.
Yeah, I'm weird. You all knew that. Also, I am too lazy to find my header template.
B/N. WWII AU. NC-17. 832. References this, in case you need it.
Nate opens his mouth to gasp, pulling his head up from the pillow so he’ll breathe in more than the smell of stale feathers and the sun washes over his face, warm and gold. If he didn’t already have his eyes closed he wouldn’t be able to stand the light. Even still, behind his eyelids is bright, too bright for the blood Nate’s been seeing every time he blinks. This morning there’s nothing but the sun there.
Colbert nips his side again and presses his fingers deeper, twisting them to make Nate’s thighs shake. When he slips a third one in Nate’s hips go rigid and he chokes on his groan.
“You’re okay,” Colbert tells him quietly, his thumb stroking the place where his fingers meet Nate’s ass. “Just wait.”
Nate drops his face down to the pillow again, breathing through the hot-cold shivers and initial urge to move away. It always feels like this, but the feeling always fades. He gets a hand under himself and starts stroking his cock to speed up the process.
“There you go,” Colbert says in a sun-warm sex-rough voice. He presses his mouth to the back of Nate’s thighs and starts to fuck Nate’s ass with his fingers.
Pleasure dawns in Nate’s body in slow increments, thick and hot in his ass and balls and belly with every stroke of his hand and Colbert’s until he’s whimpering into the pillow, embarrassed about the noise but unable to stop.
“‘M ready,” he manages to get out, pulling his hips up high so Colbert’s fingers slide halfway free.
“Thank God,” Colbert rasps.
He pulls the rest of the way out, slick fingers rubbing over Nate’s hole for a moment before they disappear. Nate takes a deep breath, feeling empty and suddenly strange. It’s quiet in the room aside from the heavy thump of Nate’s heart inside his head and it seems like it takes no time before blood starts to drip on the cobblestones.
He shakes his head to dislodge the image, face still pressed down to hide the tremble in his jaw. He stretches his leg back until his ankle scrapes over Colbert’s knee.
“Almost ready.” Colbert rubs his hand over Nate’s calf, fingers lingering in the sweat-damp ditch behind Nate’s knee.
Nate sends a hand back past his own body, reaching blindly. Colbert catches his hand and guides it down to his cock, letting Nate feel the slickness of the blunt tip and the shaft. He squeezes his hand over Nate’s and grunts before he returns Nate’s hand to the sheets, shifting so his cock rubs over Nate’s hole, pressing in slowly.
This isn’t new either, and Nate should be used to it, but there’s still that split-second of too much before his body eases into the feeling. He adjusts quickly now though, listening to Colbert’s quiet panting.
“Jesus Christ,” Colbert grunts into Nate neck, blanketing Nate’s back, pulling out and fucking back in, “you feel so fucking good.”
“Yeah,” Nate agrees, turning his face so Colbert can hear him. He still has his eyes closed. Colbert mouths his jaw, the shell of his ear, whispering, “Touch yourself,” against the corner of his mouth.
He does, trying to match his hand to Colbert’s hips, his toes curling when he gets it right. His mouth drops open and just for a second he freezes, lit up with good feelings. Then Colbert’s hand is under his chest, hauling him up from the pillow, leaving his head hanging down. He almost falls back down since he’s only got one hand to support himself, but Colbert’s got him.
Colbert bites his cheek, his mouth, his tongue sliding deep for Nate to suck on. He’s thrusting deep and hard, filling Nate with every stroke and making the metal feet of the bed frame thump into the wall.
Nate groans into Colbert’s mouth, jerking his cock faster, centering his weight and pressing back into Colbert. He’s not ready to come yet but his belly is starting to go liquid and he has to hold in his babbling, mouthing at Colbert uselessly instead.
Colbert sinks back onto his knees, pulling them completely upright so he can guide Nate’s hips and thrust at the same time. His face is close to Nate’s, breath rushing by Nate’s mouth.
“Open your eyes,” he says, fingers digging into Nate’s thighs.
The first thing Nate sees when he blinks open his eyes is the sun rising outside the window, rusty-pink. It’s so bright that for a moment Nate’s vision washes out. He blinks hard, turning his face so instead he sees tip of Colbert’s nose and the slope down to his mouth. His lips are shiny with spit and blurring with light, parting around the shape of Nate’s name.
That gets Nate shaking, filling with that light instead of blood, falling apart even though he’s right here, his temple touching Colbert’s, the backs of his knees damp with sweat and his mouth open in a soft oh.