cape_kore | video; Day 101

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video; Day 101

[Hello, sweet cape dwellers. Did you miss this particularly obnoxious curly Italian gangster? No? Too bad, because here he is far too close to your screen, clutching his head like he has the hangover of a century. The footage is spotty, the audio coming in and out and the video often out of focus, but what's abundantly clear is that Charlie's back, and not entirely pleased about it.]

Fuckin-

Jesus, what the fucking hell is this-

will someone get me-

[At last the video clears enough to show Charlie, looking angry but unharmed, somewhere on the waterfront.]

Someone tell me what the -

going on?

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[The kiss is just inches away from the nasty scar on his collarbone, but somehow, concerns about his own physical well being in this place aren't what bothers him, though of course he's reminded of his injuries simply by having Charlie's lips so close to one of them.]

I'm not content not knowing. I don't even know where you were. You don't know where you were. Doesn't that bother you?

[Jesus, Meyer. Charlie makes a very perturbed noise right into his sternum. In fact he'll just stay with his face pressed here for a few moments.]

You think it don't? I let myself think about its too long I'm gonna fucking punch something.

[He sighs, running his fingers through Charlie's hair. He doesn't want his mind to keep going over and over this, if only because it obviously bothers Charlie.]

Okay. We won't think about it.

We'll thinks about it in the morning, yeah?

[Look, he's compromising. He's also tugging up Meyer's shirt so he can kiss him just under his navel.]

Okay.

[Scheduled worrying time. He can get behind that. He can also laugh quietly when Charlie kisses his stomach -- it's always been one of his more sensitive spots, and he's generally not fond of having it exposed, but this is Charlie, and Charlie gets away with just about anything.]

[He loves the sound of Meyer laughing, especially since it's not a sound anyone else gets to hear much, if at all. He kisses him there again, followed by a light nip.]

Any food showed up while I were gone?

[If he wants laughter, he's getting it. Meyer isn't exactly the loudest laugher -- even his genuinely amused laughs are barely audible, but Charlie seems to be able to coax them from him anyway.]

Just the bread Ned and I made. Oh, and there's about half a bottle of liquor.

[Oooh, liquor! Charlie lifts his head up to give Meyer a grin.]

Someone's been holding out booze on us?

Someone brought it by when I was...

[Freaking out.]

When you vanished.

[Oh. Well. That reminder warrants about five more kisses along his stomach.]

Surprised you kept half of it.

Well...

[He's a little distracted by trying not to laugh in a very undignified way.]

Half of that bottle, at least. There were a couple more from other sources, and those're definitely empty now.

[Empty and on the bedroom floor, as a matter of fact. He probably should have cleaned that up.]

Why you gotta be so irresponsible all the time, huh? Gonna have to start locking the liquor cabinet.

[He's pushed his shirt up high enough now to mouth along the outline of muscles on his chest, nipping a little with his teeth again.]

We'd have to have a liquor cabinet first.

[His tone is only lightly teasing, mostly because he's too distracted by those teeth to really put any effort into anything else. This is slowly starting to take his mind off of things. This is what they do -- the banter, the mockery, the jokes. This feels normal.]

[Banter, mockery, jokes, tracing the outside of Meyer's nipple with his tongue, all normal things.

In fact you can go back to touching his hair now if you please.]

[He's perfectly happy to return his hands to Charlie's hair; it's not like his fascination with those curls has gone unnoticed, and it's not like he's going to stop anytime soon. There's not the same desperation in his movements as there was before, because he's starting to settle in again, starting to feel like Charlie's here, at least for the moment.

Living in the moment has never come easy to him. He's always focusing on what's going to happen in the future, making contingency plans, worrying about things he can't control, or micromanaging the things he can. Charlie isn't like that, and he wishes he could absorb that ability, somehow. If there were a way to borrow Charlie's brain for a moment, he's absolutely certain he would -- he understands Charlie so well, but he's never been able to think like him.]

[He nudges at Meyer's arms, coaxing them up so he call pull his shirt off at last. He's fairly sure it's one of his favourite sights in the world, Meyer without his shirt on. Maybe only beat by Meyer completely naked.]

[He's content to lift his arms and let his shirt be removed; in these ridiculous clothes they're wearing, he'd felt almost undressed anyway. Besides, around Charlie, he feels more at ease, more comfortable in his own skin. Sure, they give each other hell most of the time -- it wouldn't be the same partnership if they didn't, it's basically tradition at this point -- but there's something about Charlie that makes him feel safe. It's not a feeling he takes for granted. Maybe that explains the little smile he's got, even as he tosses that ugly t-shirt aside.]

[He maps Meyer's skin with his hands, curling his long fingers around Meyer's ribs before running up to card through his chest hair.]

Can I fuck you right now?

[Meyer always gives him crap for asking, but maybe he just loves the way he blushes bright red every time he does.]

[If he rolls his eyes slightly, it's not necessarily in response to Charlie's question -- it's more in response to his own blush. He'd've thought that after knowing Charlie for twelve years, and knowing how he always tries to make him flustered, it would have stopped working by now. That's not the case. It's just another talent of Charlie's, and a pretty damn impressive one, at that. It still makes him tug on Charlie's hair a little, just because he can.]

Yeah, you can.

[He props himself up on one elbow to readjust his positions, trying to take some pressure off of his ribs. He hasn't been able to find a comfortable position sitting, standing, or lying down in weeks, but he's not going to let that get in the way of this.]

You alright?

[Don't think he doesn't know what that face means. Although it's still not going to stop him from starting to undo Meyer's fly for him.]

Sure, just sick of being injured.

[He knows from experience how long broken ribs can take to feel normal again. It feels like it's been months since he's been injured, but in actuality, not much time has passed at all. He's impatient, though, and he tugs Charlie up for another kiss.]

[Charlie's only too happy to oblige, pressing their chests flush together to kiss him back, maybe a little more frantic and dirty than before.]

[Frantic is fine by him. It reflects the way his thoughts have been racing for days. Charlie finally being here is at once calming to his overwhelming anxiety and also extremely exciting. He bites at Charlie's lip, trying not to bite too hard, still convinced, somehow, that Charlie's hurt in some invisible way that he doesn't want to exacerbate. There's still a certain care and precision in his movements, like he's concerned Charlie is breakable, even if he can see for himself that he's unhurt.]

[Charlie bites back, harder than Meyer had. Because hey, he made be treating him like fucking glass but he'd rather he didn't and nothing better than leading by example.

His hand finds his way inside his trousers and places a firm hard on top of his underwear.]

[Honestly, that's a pretty damn good way to spur him into being a little more aggressive in his movements. He's always been competitive, and he can't resist nipping back at Charlie, just a bit harder, grinning as he does so. Of course Charlie doesn't want to be treated like he's breakable -- who the hell would?]

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