Vernal Equinox
Title: Vernal Equinox
Author: Tas (tasyfa)
Fandom: Green Day RPS - Billie Joe Armstrong/Mike Dirnt
Characters: Billie/Mike, implied Billie/Adie
Prompt: 43: Outdoor sex, for the 50kinkyways challenge ( My kink prompt table.)
Word Count: 531
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own only the words; the people own themselves and the events are fictitious.
Summary: Sometimes Mike needs to be reminded that he matters, too.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The last vestiges of winter cling to the lake, the clouded glass of thin ice coating its centre. At the shoreline, the water is free already, waves chopped up by wind and the erratic border between them and the land. It shines a deep, deep blue: the same colour that it would paint human lips and skin if you were to submerge this time of year.
It is here, among the broken rock in the half-light of scudding clouds and feeble sun, that I find him.
"Mike?"
He says nothing, gaze unmoving from the whitened, shining surface, but there's a subtle shift of welcome in the lines of his body and I take it, folding onto another rock beside him.
I don't ask. I don't need to. Not because I know everything - as long and as well as I've known him, I will never know everything - but I know enough, and I've already said all there is to say.
Mike is the one to break the silence. "This is part of you now."
"What, ice floes?"
A tiny nod. "This place where lakes freeze hard enough for people to skate on 'em and snowfall is normal." His eyes flicker in my direction without quite making contact. "Minnesota comes with your Minnesota girl, Bill."
"I guess, yeah." It's sure as hell not anything like California. But there's a stark beauty in it - in the blues and greys of a late March morning in a place where the turning of the seasons really means something.
A seagull hovers nearby, wing muscles straining to stay aloft in the burst of cold air, and the sight fascinates me. I don't notice Mike shifting closer until chilled lips brush my cheek, warm breath following. "I want you."
I laugh a little. "If you think I'm taking my pants off in this weather, you're nuts."
"You don't have to; just unzip," he murmurs, fitting action to suggestion even as it's spoken. I gasp when icy fingers curl around soft flesh but friction soon warms us both and I arch into his touch, lips finding his at last.
We kiss with a slow greediness, licking at each other's mouths, and then Mike breaks away, rolling onto his knees and fumbling with his jeans until they slip down, leaving him exposed from waist to knees, pale skin pebbling in the northern air.
"Mikey." I breathe out the old nickname in longing and in awe. I know now what it is he needs from me. Affirmation. Confirmation. Reassurance.
Unbroken love.
I thrust inside him smooth and slow, careful to take my time, to make him slick and ready, pushing back against my fingers and then my cock in purest need. The heat of him sears me as I lose myself in rhythm. Soft grunts and moans form our only music - the soundtrack to the waiting potential of spring; to the overt expression of a partnership rarely spoken but still unchanged.
When release comes for us, it's with profound gratitude for that truth.
I kiss him, after; before he leaves for the hotel; before I go back to the Nessers'. It tastes as sweet as it ever did, and he smiles.
Author: Tas (tasyfa)
Fandom: Green Day RPS - Billie Joe Armstrong/Mike Dirnt
Characters: Billie/Mike, implied Billie/Adie
Prompt: 43: Outdoor sex, for the 50kinkyways challenge ( My kink prompt table.)
Word Count: 531
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own only the words; the people own themselves and the events are fictitious.
Summary: Sometimes Mike needs to be reminded that he matters, too.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The last vestiges of winter cling to the lake, the clouded glass of thin ice coating its centre. At the shoreline, the water is free already, waves chopped up by wind and the erratic border between them and the land. It shines a deep, deep blue: the same colour that it would paint human lips and skin if you were to submerge this time of year.
It is here, among the broken rock in the half-light of scudding clouds and feeble sun, that I find him.
"Mike?"
He says nothing, gaze unmoving from the whitened, shining surface, but there's a subtle shift of welcome in the lines of his body and I take it, folding onto another rock beside him.
I don't ask. I don't need to. Not because I know everything - as long and as well as I've known him, I will never know everything - but I know enough, and I've already said all there is to say.
Mike is the one to break the silence. "This is part of you now."
"What, ice floes?"
A tiny nod. "This place where lakes freeze hard enough for people to skate on 'em and snowfall is normal." His eyes flicker in my direction without quite making contact. "Minnesota comes with your Minnesota girl, Bill."
"I guess, yeah." It's sure as hell not anything like California. But there's a stark beauty in it - in the blues and greys of a late March morning in a place where the turning of the seasons really means something.
A seagull hovers nearby, wing muscles straining to stay aloft in the burst of cold air, and the sight fascinates me. I don't notice Mike shifting closer until chilled lips brush my cheek, warm breath following. "I want you."
I laugh a little. "If you think I'm taking my pants off in this weather, you're nuts."
"You don't have to; just unzip," he murmurs, fitting action to suggestion even as it's spoken. I gasp when icy fingers curl around soft flesh but friction soon warms us both and I arch into his touch, lips finding his at last.
We kiss with a slow greediness, licking at each other's mouths, and then Mike breaks away, rolling onto his knees and fumbling with his jeans until they slip down, leaving him exposed from waist to knees, pale skin pebbling in the northern air.
"Mikey." I breathe out the old nickname in longing and in awe. I know now what it is he needs from me. Affirmation. Confirmation. Reassurance.
Unbroken love.
I thrust inside him smooth and slow, careful to take my time, to make him slick and ready, pushing back against my fingers and then my cock in purest need. The heat of him sears me as I lose myself in rhythm. Soft grunts and moans form our only music - the soundtrack to the waiting potential of spring; to the overt expression of a partnership rarely spoken but still unchanged.
When release comes for us, it's with profound gratitude for that truth.
I kiss him, after; before he leaves for the hotel; before I go back to the Nessers'. It tastes as sweet as it ever did, and he smiles.