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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[He starts snapping his hips up with the rhythm Meyer's set, pushing into him just that little bit deeper.]

God, I wanna feel all of you.

Pretty sure... you've got... just about all of me.

[His words come out in amused little huffs of breath, interspersed with a couple moans when Charlie thrusts particularly deeply. He's trying hard not to pull too hard on Charlie's hair, to reign in his desperation, to not be as rough as he knows he's capable of being at the moment, but it's damn difficult. Self-restraint is one of his talents, but lately, he seems to be less restrained than normal. It must be being stuck in this place. He gives a particularly bruising bite to the swell of Charlie's shoulder.]

Maybe. Just abouts.

[He surges up on the bed, still buried as deep inside Meyer as he can get, wrapping his arms around him so they're both sitting. He loves feeling their chests pressed together, the way their breaths mingle in a barely-kiss. One hand comes down to grip on Meyer's ass, giving him a little push of encouragement to keep moving.]

[He's glad Charlie doesn't grab at his back, because those wounds from getting mauled are still very much there, and they're painful as hell. They know each other's bodies well enough, though, that he knows that even without consciously thinking about it, Charlie can intuit what will and won't be comfortable for him. It makes him feel safe, which isn't a feeling he regards lightly. That's why the little push of encouragement makes him move a bit quicker, and that's also why he chooses not to respond to Charlie's comment at all, instead just pressing his face into Charlie's shoulder, holding him as tightly as he can, like he's trying to absorb him entirely. His breathing is harsh and ragged, and his eyes are closed tightly.]

[He closes his eyes too, both hands firm on Meyer's hips as they rock together. It's all down to this - the feeling of Meyer's skin, the smell of him, the weight of him on his lap and the feeling of him wrapped around his cock - they're the only sensations is the world right now. He bites back a groan of disappointment when he feels the tell-time sign of heat pooling in his belly because as much as he knows it can't, he wants this to go on forever.

Not that he's gonna slow down. Not when it feels as damn fucking good as this.]

[He doesn't expect this to go on forever, but he'd sure as hell like it to. This is so much easier than anything else, and that's saying something, for someone who turns pink in the cheeks at the mere mention of sex. His cheeks might be a little flushed now, but that probably comes down to the exertion more than anything else, the way it feels to be moving in Charlie's lap. His teeth are sunk into Charlie's shoulder, trying desperately hard to stop himself from being pushed over that edge because he wants to draw as much out of this as he can. The only noises he's making are quiet, almost whimpers.]

Meyer-

[He can feel that tense of muscles, feel it in the way Meyer is biting at him like he's holding something back. hand comes between them to wrap around Meyer's cock because dear god, if he's going down he's taking Meyer with him.]

Come on.

[There's one thing he's never been able to resist, and that's Charlie talking to him, coaxing him; any time Charlie wants to get anything out of him, he pretty much can, no matter what that something is. Right now that something is very obvious, and all it really takes is the combination of Charlie's hand and his voice to give him that tiny shove over the edge that he needs.]

Fuck.

[It's a quiet whisper into Charlie's shoulder, punctuated with a bite that's surely going to leave a bruise, but even though he's barely making any noise at all, it should be obvious from his face and the way that he moves and tenses that the orgasm is hitting him hard, almost taking him by surprise.]

[Oh christ. He's so close to the edge himself, but he has to hold out, has to hear every little noise Meyer makes and every twitch of his muscles as he comes.]

God you're fucking beautiful.

[He barely gets to murmur it into Meyer's skin before he's coming to, stilling inside Meyer's body and breathing hard into his hair as it washes through him and into his toes.]

Fuck.

[It takes some effort to pull his face away from Charlie's shoulder, to pull back enough to look into his face -- and there's no way he's getting off of his lap yet, because that would require a type of energy he doesn't seem to possess at the moment -- but he manages, somehow. Being called beautiful always does strange things to him. He doesn't think he is. Most people don't. But Charlie does. It's odd, that that matters so much.

He strokes Charlie's hair almost affectionately, some of the tension gone from his face.]

I missed you.

[It's not exactly what he wants to say, and it sure as hell comes out sounding sappier than he meant it to, but it'll have to do.]

[He wishes he could say he missed him too, wish it didn't bring forward that spike on anxiety, impaling him right in the front of his mind where he'd been trying to keep away. He couldn't miss Meyer, because he has no fucking idea what happened to him. So instead he just closes his eyes, leaning into the comfortable familiarity of Meyer's hands in his hair.]

Yeah. I knows you did.

[It's kind of useless to tell Charlie not to disappear again, because he wouldn't be able to control it. It's not like it was back home, and even there, Charlie could've disappeared and been gone forever at any time. He tries not to think about that. That's enough to drive a guy crazy with worry. And he's great at worrying -- does every damn time Charlie leaves the house, not that he'd express it.]

You only know I did because of all the empty bottles around here.

[Ah, jokes at his own expense. So much better than emotional discussions.]

Yeah, I always knew you'd be a fucking wreck withouts me.

[He has to smile, because smiling is so much easier than actually thinking about any of this shit, a press a few quick kisses under Meyer's jaw.]

It was definitely quieter without you.

[A way of acknowledging without really saying it that, yes, he'd been a mess. He doesn't need to say it for Charlie to get it. Their communication has always been easy like that, which can be good or bad, depending on whether he's trying to hide something.]

You saying I talk to much?

[He's glad neither one of them is making a move to go anywhere yet. He likes staying like this, wrapped around Meyer and sliding his lips over his skin.]

I'm saying you talk a lot.

[That's different than "too much," though, and it's obvious from the way that he presses his stubbly cheek against Charlie's shoulder that the quiet while he'd been gone hadn't been enjoyable.]

You need a shave. That fucking prickles.

[As much as he's loathe to do it, it's time to move. He gives Meyer's hips a little insistent shove with both hands.]

Come on, my legs is falling asleep.

Too heavy for you, huh? And too prickly. Can't do anything right around here.

[He says it with a mocking grumble, but he gives Charlie a tiny smile as he carefully climbs off of his lap and lies down on the bed -- it would be more of a flipping motion, except he's still moving too gingerly to do something as rambunctious as flop.]

[Charlie feels instantly empty without Meyer's pressed into him like before, so he right away follows him down onto the bed, spooning in behind him.]

Yeah, dunno why I fucking bother.

Neither do I. I'm more trouble than I'm worth.

[A joking tone, but nonetheless true, in his opinion.]

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video; Day 101

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