hand in unlovable hand
Title: hand in unlovable hand
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Liebott/Webster
Summary: Sometimes David thinks he has Joe figured out, but most of the time he's wrong.
Wordcount: ~2,000
Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers and I mean no disrespect.
Notes or Warnings: This is a cocktail of super fluff and pwp so i hope you enjoy! (:
There is a certain degree of trust that David has resting on his shoulders now, something that if he fucks up, Joe’ll probably leave him for some sexual connoisseur because he lacks in almost every intimate area. It’s definitely a fact that he’s ashamed to admit, but Joe wants the next step and by some miracle David might be able to give him the best “next step” he’s ever had in his life. And that’s exactly why he’s here in the corner drugstore with a refilled prescription of Joe’s inhaler and some type of ridiculously enhanced condoms-he thinks they’re flavored, which is absolutely the stupidest thing, but then again he’s never been quite sure of what Joe prefers.
He’s avoiding all eye contact by looking at the mismatched carpet quilt on the floor, and he’s shuffling his feet and at first glance he probably looks like someone in his family died. He’s usually about maintaining this sort of calm at all times, reflecting nothing but serenity-and perhaps a bit of arrogance-which is what he thinks attracted Joe to him in the first place, so it has mostly remained, but during this embarrassing endeavor he’s been reduced to childish immaturity and Joe would never let him live it down.
David’s at the front of the line, and heaven help him it’s some crusty old lady cashier who can’t seem to ring up the enhanced condoms (that’s what it says on the screen for everyone to see), and by the time she does she’s suppressing some pseudo-girly laugh, probably because the condoms are fucking chocolate raspberry flavored and he wants to die right in the middle of this 100 square feet drugstore with this crusty cashier and the shark gods as his witnesses.
“In for a rough night, huh, sir?” She says as she scans the barcode on the inhaler’s paper bag, and David grabs the bag and runs out, cheeks and the tips of his ears heating up. He thinks he can hear titters of laughter behind him.
The calm San Francisco air encompasses him as soon as he’s outside, though, and his mood improves slightly in the realization that Joe is fucking finally giving it up tonight. You wouldn’t even think Joe Liebgott would be so, traditional, per say. Sure, they’ve made out plenty of times but the second that David tries to unbutton his pants it’s a big red light and no more kissing for the rest of the day. And David is cool as a cucumber, but he can only take so much.
David thinks tonight will be an awesome night of firsts, because even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves Joe. He ponders over happiness sometimes and there is no happy without Joe. He remembers the first time he recognized what the feeling was; David had picked them both up some burgers and he didn’t get Joe the right one, so Joe threw it out the window. David recalls thinking, “I must love him if I don’t want to push him out of the car just like the burger.”
True story.
He walks along the dusty cobblestones until he reaches the front steps to their two floor townhouse, a pitiful fixer upper that Joe loves and so David deals with it. The door’s already open to let air in, and when he crosses the threshold he can see Joe, mussed hair and loose tee with boxers bent over paint cans and assorted rollers and brushes.
David hates the pale blue paint that is being spread onto the living room walls, but he’s never seen anyone more beautiful than Joe in his entire life- even including the “attempt at being straight” stint.
“Close the door, will ya?” Joe doesn’t turn around. Either he’s turned into an alien or he’s nervous. David closes the entry and hopes it’s the latter. He crosses the wood floor, its panels creaking, and puts the bag down on a table before approaching Joe and running his hands down the other’s sides.
“Are you alright?” David asks, actual concern lacing his tone.
“Yeah, Christ, Web, I’m fine. What di’ya buy?” Joe finally looks at him, same face as always, except for there’s a hint of something David can’t describe beneath the smirk. He ducks out from under David’s arms and investigates the contents. David watches as he smiles at the inhaler and nods a curt thank you, but then Joe’s found the condoms and-
“Web, what the fuck are these?”
David can’t always guess what Joe likes, and he seems like the only person that can make David practically speechless. “I, uh, they, um...”
“Do you not fucking trust me?”
“Trust you what, Joe?”
“Don’t you think that if I waited this long, you could pretty much assume that I’m clean?”
“Lieb, it’s just a precau-“
Joe cuts him off, his voice raised drastically in volume. “I have been careful with you for almost six fucking months, David, Jesus, do you know how long that is?”
The condoms clatter to the floor and Joe looks so much taller than he actually is. David finds himself getting upset now, muscles tensing. “Joe you’re the one that fucking put us through this okay, I would have been fine after two weeks, alright?”
“I wasn’t ready then!”
“And you are now?”
“Yes.”
And then there’s lips capturing his own, rough and chapped and deliciously Joe. David’s hands reclaim their real estate on Joe’s jutting hipbones, while his mouth is being kissed like a drowning man’s finally found some air in his lungs. Joe’s fingers are clasped at the nape of his neck, twirling wisps of David’s hair between the pads of them. They separate after what seems like hours, Joe’s forehead resting on David’s shoulder.
“I can’t even believe you. It’s like you think I’m some kind of male prostitute with the penis plague or some shit.”
“Fuck you Liebgott.”
“I thought that’s what you’re gonna do anyways.”
“Do you want me to do it right up on the wall here? With you facing the wall so you can be like the whore I think you are?”
That earns a choked noise from the back of Joe’s throat and another hungry kiss.
Joe’s less composed when he replies, “Only if the paint’s dry.”
David shoves him into the wall, discovering that the wall is in fact dry enough for him to fuck Joe onto it. He lifts up Joe’s shirt, exposing the slightly muscled planes of his torso, bending slightly to kiss his way across Joe’s collarbones, nipping and licking to set the skin alight with blooms of red irritation. All the while, Joe’s moans are begging him to continue his expedition down, mouthing at pale alabaster, almost as if Joseph is carved from the most precious marble.
Hands are at David shoulders, pushing him toward the obvious tent of Joe’s boxers. David laughs breathlessly and shakes his head, curling his fingers around the waistband and tugging it off. He presses his mouth against the insides of Joe’s shaking thighs, stray coarse hairs tickling his cheek.
“Jesus, David.”
He looks up at Joe from his position on his knees, before tearing off his own shirt and pulling his jeans from his legs. Joe is blinking at him with wide eyes, glazed over with unadulterated lust, and then he gathers up enough of himself to quip “No wonder I waited this long, you’re so fucking hairy.”
“Shut up.” David attempts to silence him by taking in just the tip of his dick in his mouth. He flattens his tongue against it just once, and then he’s standing up again, kissing along Joe’s jawbone. “Turn around, Joe.”
Joe’s only reply is his rapid breaths, but he still turns towards the wall, hips desperately thrusting to provide friction.
“Stay there.”
“Don’t you dare get those fucking dumbass condoms, Web.”
“Not when I have some fucking dumbass lube.”
He walks to his bedside table in the bedroom and grabs the tiny bottle, grinning and ridding himself of his briefs on the way back. Joe’s looking at him and biting his lip.
“You’re the only person I have ever met that looks good in pretentious Armani whitey tighties.”
“You sure have so much to say for the one getting fucked.” David still laughs at the comment, though.
“My ass isn’t hairy.”
David just pushes his hips against Joe, causing him to writhe and search for purchase on the flat wall. He readies his fingers and traces them down Joe’s spine. His own breath comes short upon feeling Joe shiver beneath his touch.
Eventually his fingers have found their goal and they curl and spread inside Joe, who cheek is pressed on the wall with air heaving past his lips. David’s kissing everywhere, his neck, his shoulder blades, because it’s all worthy of his attention. Every part of Joe is deserving, and beautiful. Joe’s making these sounds that are heard like music, only serving to make David find that special spot, and when he does the crescendo of moans is akin to his favorite song, perhaps even better.
Arcade Fire has no chance against Joseph Liebgott’s sex noises.
“Web, Web, Jesus, I’m ready.”
Joe’s hands are splayed on the pale blue hue and David reaches up to tangle their fingers together before slowly pushing in.
David thinks he’s gone blind, because his eyes momentarily only see white. He returns to the moment with Joe telling him to keep going, and just to move goddamnit. David obeys, rolling his hips with slow thrusts, Joe’s hand grips his tighter on the wall above them and he takes it as permission to go faster and deeper.
“Fuck, Joe. Fuck I love you.” His toes are curling on the wooden floors. He’s so close, and he’s waited so long and this is beyond any of his expectations because he fucking loves Joe and that is all there is that matters.
“I love ya too, Web, jus’ grab my dick, though, will ya?”
And David Webster fucking laughs.
His fingers clasp around Joe, twisting his wrist in time with his movements, and Joe’s clenching around him with warmth spreading across his hand.
He continues to thrust up and soon he grips Joe’s shoulder crushingly while spilling inside of him. He thinks he should probably consider his and Joe’s state absolutely disgusting, but he pulls out and Joe turns to smirk at him and it’s strangely perfect.
They kiss and there’s a faint taste of salty sweat when Joe smiles into it.
“I can’t believe you took me from behind the first time we had sex.” Joe says, no real heat to it, because his face is the most pleased David has seen it since they started this relationship.
“We would have fucked like gentlemen if you would have given up faster.”
Joe chuckles.
“I really do love ya, Web.”
“I loved you the minute you threw that bacon cheeseburger out the window.”
“I can’t eat fucking bacon, I’m a Jew.”
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Liebott/Webster
Summary: Sometimes David thinks he has Joe figured out, but most of the time he's wrong.
Wordcount: ~2,000
Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers and I mean no disrespect.
Notes or Warnings: This is a cocktail of super fluff and pwp so i hope you enjoy! (:
There is a certain degree of trust that David has resting on his shoulders now, something that if he fucks up, Joe’ll probably leave him for some sexual connoisseur because he lacks in almost every intimate area. It’s definitely a fact that he’s ashamed to admit, but Joe wants the next step and by some miracle David might be able to give him the best “next step” he’s ever had in his life. And that’s exactly why he’s here in the corner drugstore with a refilled prescription of Joe’s inhaler and some type of ridiculously enhanced condoms-he thinks they’re flavored, which is absolutely the stupidest thing, but then again he’s never been quite sure of what Joe prefers.
He’s avoiding all eye contact by looking at the mismatched carpet quilt on the floor, and he’s shuffling his feet and at first glance he probably looks like someone in his family died. He’s usually about maintaining this sort of calm at all times, reflecting nothing but serenity-and perhaps a bit of arrogance-which is what he thinks attracted Joe to him in the first place, so it has mostly remained, but during this embarrassing endeavor he’s been reduced to childish immaturity and Joe would never let him live it down.
David’s at the front of the line, and heaven help him it’s some crusty old lady cashier who can’t seem to ring up the enhanced condoms (that’s what it says on the screen for everyone to see), and by the time she does she’s suppressing some pseudo-girly laugh, probably because the condoms are fucking chocolate raspberry flavored and he wants to die right in the middle of this 100 square feet drugstore with this crusty cashier and the shark gods as his witnesses.
“In for a rough night, huh, sir?” She says as she scans the barcode on the inhaler’s paper bag, and David grabs the bag and runs out, cheeks and the tips of his ears heating up. He thinks he can hear titters of laughter behind him.
The calm San Francisco air encompasses him as soon as he’s outside, though, and his mood improves slightly in the realization that Joe is fucking finally giving it up tonight. You wouldn’t even think Joe Liebgott would be so, traditional, per say. Sure, they’ve made out plenty of times but the second that David tries to unbutton his pants it’s a big red light and no more kissing for the rest of the day. And David is cool as a cucumber, but he can only take so much.
David thinks tonight will be an awesome night of firsts, because even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves Joe. He ponders over happiness sometimes and there is no happy without Joe. He remembers the first time he recognized what the feeling was; David had picked them both up some burgers and he didn’t get Joe the right one, so Joe threw it out the window. David recalls thinking, “I must love him if I don’t want to push him out of the car just like the burger.”
True story.
He walks along the dusty cobblestones until he reaches the front steps to their two floor townhouse, a pitiful fixer upper that Joe loves and so David deals with it. The door’s already open to let air in, and when he crosses the threshold he can see Joe, mussed hair and loose tee with boxers bent over paint cans and assorted rollers and brushes.
David hates the pale blue paint that is being spread onto the living room walls, but he’s never seen anyone more beautiful than Joe in his entire life- even including the “attempt at being straight” stint.
“Close the door, will ya?” Joe doesn’t turn around. Either he’s turned into an alien or he’s nervous. David closes the entry and hopes it’s the latter. He crosses the wood floor, its panels creaking, and puts the bag down on a table before approaching Joe and running his hands down the other’s sides.
“Are you alright?” David asks, actual concern lacing his tone.
“Yeah, Christ, Web, I’m fine. What di’ya buy?” Joe finally looks at him, same face as always, except for there’s a hint of something David can’t describe beneath the smirk. He ducks out from under David’s arms and investigates the contents. David watches as he smiles at the inhaler and nods a curt thank you, but then Joe’s found the condoms and-
“Web, what the fuck are these?”
David can’t always guess what Joe likes, and he seems like the only person that can make David practically speechless. “I, uh, they, um...”
“Do you not fucking trust me?”
“Trust you what, Joe?”
“Don’t you think that if I waited this long, you could pretty much assume that I’m clean?”
“Lieb, it’s just a precau-“
Joe cuts him off, his voice raised drastically in volume. “I have been careful with you for almost six fucking months, David, Jesus, do you know how long that is?”
The condoms clatter to the floor and Joe looks so much taller than he actually is. David finds himself getting upset now, muscles tensing. “Joe you’re the one that fucking put us through this okay, I would have been fine after two weeks, alright?”
“I wasn’t ready then!”
“And you are now?”
“Yes.”
And then there’s lips capturing his own, rough and chapped and deliciously Joe. David’s hands reclaim their real estate on Joe’s jutting hipbones, while his mouth is being kissed like a drowning man’s finally found some air in his lungs. Joe’s fingers are clasped at the nape of his neck, twirling wisps of David’s hair between the pads of them. They separate after what seems like hours, Joe’s forehead resting on David’s shoulder.
“I can’t even believe you. It’s like you think I’m some kind of male prostitute with the penis plague or some shit.”
“Fuck you Liebgott.”
“I thought that’s what you’re gonna do anyways.”
“Do you want me to do it right up on the wall here? With you facing the wall so you can be like the whore I think you are?”
That earns a choked noise from the back of Joe’s throat and another hungry kiss.
Joe’s less composed when he replies, “Only if the paint’s dry.”
David shoves him into the wall, discovering that the wall is in fact dry enough for him to fuck Joe onto it. He lifts up Joe’s shirt, exposing the slightly muscled planes of his torso, bending slightly to kiss his way across Joe’s collarbones, nipping and licking to set the skin alight with blooms of red irritation. All the while, Joe’s moans are begging him to continue his expedition down, mouthing at pale alabaster, almost as if Joseph is carved from the most precious marble.
Hands are at David shoulders, pushing him toward the obvious tent of Joe’s boxers. David laughs breathlessly and shakes his head, curling his fingers around the waistband and tugging it off. He presses his mouth against the insides of Joe’s shaking thighs, stray coarse hairs tickling his cheek.
“Jesus, David.”
He looks up at Joe from his position on his knees, before tearing off his own shirt and pulling his jeans from his legs. Joe is blinking at him with wide eyes, glazed over with unadulterated lust, and then he gathers up enough of himself to quip “No wonder I waited this long, you’re so fucking hairy.”
“Shut up.” David attempts to silence him by taking in just the tip of his dick in his mouth. He flattens his tongue against it just once, and then he’s standing up again, kissing along Joe’s jawbone. “Turn around, Joe.”
Joe’s only reply is his rapid breaths, but he still turns towards the wall, hips desperately thrusting to provide friction.
“Stay there.”
“Don’t you dare get those fucking dumbass condoms, Web.”
“Not when I have some fucking dumbass lube.”
He walks to his bedside table in the bedroom and grabs the tiny bottle, grinning and ridding himself of his briefs on the way back. Joe’s looking at him and biting his lip.
“You’re the only person I have ever met that looks good in pretentious Armani whitey tighties.”
“You sure have so much to say for the one getting fucked.” David still laughs at the comment, though.
“My ass isn’t hairy.”
David just pushes his hips against Joe, causing him to writhe and search for purchase on the flat wall. He readies his fingers and traces them down Joe’s spine. His own breath comes short upon feeling Joe shiver beneath his touch.
Eventually his fingers have found their goal and they curl and spread inside Joe, who cheek is pressed on the wall with air heaving past his lips. David’s kissing everywhere, his neck, his shoulder blades, because it’s all worthy of his attention. Every part of Joe is deserving, and beautiful. Joe’s making these sounds that are heard like music, only serving to make David find that special spot, and when he does the crescendo of moans is akin to his favorite song, perhaps even better.
Arcade Fire has no chance against Joseph Liebgott’s sex noises.
“Web, Web, Jesus, I’m ready.”
Joe’s hands are splayed on the pale blue hue and David reaches up to tangle their fingers together before slowly pushing in.
David thinks he’s gone blind, because his eyes momentarily only see white. He returns to the moment with Joe telling him to keep going, and just to move goddamnit. David obeys, rolling his hips with slow thrusts, Joe’s hand grips his tighter on the wall above them and he takes it as permission to go faster and deeper.
“Fuck, Joe. Fuck I love you.” His toes are curling on the wooden floors. He’s so close, and he’s waited so long and this is beyond any of his expectations because he fucking loves Joe and that is all there is that matters.
“I love ya too, Web, jus’ grab my dick, though, will ya?”
And David Webster fucking laughs.
His fingers clasp around Joe, twisting his wrist in time with his movements, and Joe’s clenching around him with warmth spreading across his hand.
He continues to thrust up and soon he grips Joe’s shoulder crushingly while spilling inside of him. He thinks he should probably consider his and Joe’s state absolutely disgusting, but he pulls out and Joe turns to smirk at him and it’s strangely perfect.
They kiss and there’s a faint taste of salty sweat when Joe smiles into it.
“I can’t believe you took me from behind the first time we had sex.” Joe says, no real heat to it, because his face is the most pleased David has seen it since they started this relationship.
“We would have fucked like gentlemen if you would have given up faster.”
Joe chuckles.
“I really do love ya, Web.”
“I loved you the minute you threw that bacon cheeseburger out the window.”
“I can’t eat fucking bacon, I’m a Jew.”