COTW 51: Reuions
Sep. 11th, 2005 06:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Okay, y'all are spoiled. Part 51 before part 50 is even out of beta. I hope you love me.
Mark gaped, unable to close his mouth to utter a single word.
Whitney dropped his hand from his hair and readjusted his grip on the crutch under his left arm. The movement drew Mark's eyes to the hand wrapped around handhold. Whitney's middle and index fingers, and his thumb were wrapped around it; the rest was wrapped in gauze, but the fingers were clearly missing.
He raised his eyes again to Whitney's face. Right now, Whitney was wearing a black eye patch over his injured eyes; the eye had been saved, although he was mostly blind in it now. The patch made him look grown up and more than a little dangerous.
Whitney cleared his throat and shrugged. "Um. Sorry I didn't call first. I wanted to surprise you."
"Yeah," was all Mark could think to say. Then, because he realized he was being rude and stupid, he stepped closer and said, "I tried calling you. On the phone. No one would tell me where you were."
"I got worried about everything going on here." Whitney limped towards Mark on one crutch, leaving the other propped on the couch. "I wanted to get home quickly, and I managed to talk them into discharging and flying me home. It happened so quickly, I didn't tell anyone." He swallowed and limped closer. "Sorry if you were worried."
"No." Mark felt as if he were being magnetically drawn to Whitney, like his feet weren't his own. "I mean, yes, I was worried. But I was mostly selfish."
"Selfish?"
They were almost touching now, they were so close. Mark just didn't quite know how to close the gap, or if Whitney wanted him too. Writing and talking on the phone... it'd been so different. Now Whitney was real and solid and--God--alive and warm and he smelled like aftershave and fabric softener.
"I've had a bad couple days. I wanted to... I wanted you."
Relief and desire and something that made Mark's heart wrench washed over Whitney's face and then Whitney was stepping into him saying, "I have to..."
And then Whitney's lips were on him and this was *real* and *God* he was so confident and strong. His hand gripped Mark by the nape of his neck and he just held on like he wasn't going to let go while Whitney's tongue eased inside Mark's mouth, not tentative, but not too boldly. He was like an explorer first venturing into new territory and while he was sure he'd be welcome, he didn't want to impose.
Mark moaned softly and melted into the kiss. His head was spinning from the intensity and he pressed his body into Whitney's, clutching him desperately at the waist. When Whitney finally released his mouth, Mark could only gasp breathlessly and raise one hand to stroke Whitney's cheek before going in for another kiss.
"God, you're perfect," Whitney whispered. He nipped Mark's lower lip lightly, hands lowering to his hips, clutching and urging Mark towards the couch. "I've dreamed of doing this for so long." His mouth latched onto Mark's earlobe, and he sucked it, tongue and lips working the soft flesh wetly. "It was all that got me through those nights, you know? I was out there, alone and afraid, but then I'd think of you." He tugged Mark onto him, both falling onto the couch.
Mark caught himself on the back of the couch so he didn't hit Whitney with his full weight. As he lowered himself into Whitney's lap--one leg on either side of Whitney's good one--he kissed the reddened lips with less passion but infinitely more tenderness than before. "Me too," Mark confessed. His thigh came in contact with the bulge underneath Whitney's pants; he rocked into it.
Whitney groaned, head falling back on the couch cushions. His hips rolled into Mark's thigh, fingers threaded through the loops on Mark's jeans as Whitney pressed his own thigh into Mark's crotch.
Bright-hot flares burst behind Mark's eyes. His head fell to Whitney's shoulder and he began to rock steadily into the other man. Sweat beaded at his temples and his breathing was ragged, Mark's own cock riding into Whitney's thigh. Whitney was moving underneath him, each breath a soft moan in Mark's ear. His hands grasped, his teeth captured, released, and recaptured Mark's ear continually as they rubbed against one another. There was no finesses, especially as the pressure grew underneath Mark's skin; all that he could think and feel was the blood pounding through his veins and the sharp tang of sweat that filled the air and his breath burning in his lungs and the gut twisting, carnal heat that flared out from his groin, making him conversely tense and melted at the same time.
And then Whitney is off the couch, grabbing Mark with both hands and yanking him into a kiss, all the while making an, "Oh, oh, *oh*," sounds and there's a warm, wet spot on his pants and his leg is coming up harder into Mark and Mark begins to spiral out of control and all he can do is cling to Whitney and kiss him and hope he didn't fly off the face of the earth.
"Oh God," he gasped, shuddering hard.
Whitney was shaking underneath him and holding him tightly. Heavy and overwhelmed, Mark slumped against him, resting his head on Whitney's shoulder.
Whitney turned his head, meeting Mark's eyes. "Sorry." A deep rose touched his cheeks, darker than the sweaty sex-flush of the rest of his face. "I imagined our first... everything a lot more dignified."
Mark pulled Whitney down for a kiss. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"Yeah, but, there are all these things I'd planned to say. Like, thank you for keeping me alive and you're the most amazing man I've ever known and, oh yeah, I love you." He kissed Mark again. "But when I saw you, I couldn't remember anything. All I wanted was to touch you." His calloused thumb scraped deliciously over Mark's cheek in the most tender touch he'd ever felt.
He pushed himself into a more comfortable position on the couch, still entwined with Whitney as much as he could be. "All we've had until now are words," he said, taking Whitney's hand and lacing their fingers. "I think we both needed something more." He brushed his lips lightly over Whitney's, then moved in again, his tongue massaging Whitney's lower lip. "I love you, too."
Whitney's relief was palpable in his kiss and his hands which were both fierce and possessive as he pulled Mark on top of him.
Mark broke the kiss and said, "Um. Why don't we go into the bedroom? And try all of this again?"
"Yeah." Whitney grinned, his smile crooked and hungry. "Um. Can you maybe get some water or something?"
"And snacks. I'm not letting you out for awhile. We'll need supplies."
"That sounds good to me."
* * *
Now, most of you will probably just love me enough to give me feedback. I appreciate that, I really do. I just hope that, one day, someone loves me enough to buy me porn. Specifically, this porn.
Well. I love myself enough to do it, but I have to wait at least one or two paychecks. I just hope I get it before the limited time offer expires. Otherwise, I'll just get this.
I really wish they were selling Mardi Gras Cowboy, but they aren't. :(
Um. Hope you enjoyed part1
Mark gaped, unable to close his mouth to utter a single word.
Whitney dropped his hand from his hair and readjusted his grip on the crutch under his left arm. The movement drew Mark's eyes to the hand wrapped around handhold. Whitney's middle and index fingers, and his thumb were wrapped around it; the rest was wrapped in gauze, but the fingers were clearly missing.
He raised his eyes again to Whitney's face. Right now, Whitney was wearing a black eye patch over his injured eyes; the eye had been saved, although he was mostly blind in it now. The patch made him look grown up and more than a little dangerous.
Whitney cleared his throat and shrugged. "Um. Sorry I didn't call first. I wanted to surprise you."
"Yeah," was all Mark could think to say. Then, because he realized he was being rude and stupid, he stepped closer and said, "I tried calling you. On the phone. No one would tell me where you were."
"I got worried about everything going on here." Whitney limped towards Mark on one crutch, leaving the other propped on the couch. "I wanted to get home quickly, and I managed to talk them into discharging and flying me home. It happened so quickly, I didn't tell anyone." He swallowed and limped closer. "Sorry if you were worried."
"No." Mark felt as if he were being magnetically drawn to Whitney, like his feet weren't his own. "I mean, yes, I was worried. But I was mostly selfish."
"Selfish?"
They were almost touching now, they were so close. Mark just didn't quite know how to close the gap, or if Whitney wanted him too. Writing and talking on the phone... it'd been so different. Now Whitney was real and solid and--God--alive and warm and he smelled like aftershave and fabric softener.
"I've had a bad couple days. I wanted to... I wanted you."
Relief and desire and something that made Mark's heart wrench washed over Whitney's face and then Whitney was stepping into him saying, "I have to..."
And then Whitney's lips were on him and this was *real* and *God* he was so confident and strong. His hand gripped Mark by the nape of his neck and he just held on like he wasn't going to let go while Whitney's tongue eased inside Mark's mouth, not tentative, but not too boldly. He was like an explorer first venturing into new territory and while he was sure he'd be welcome, he didn't want to impose.
Mark moaned softly and melted into the kiss. His head was spinning from the intensity and he pressed his body into Whitney's, clutching him desperately at the waist. When Whitney finally released his mouth, Mark could only gasp breathlessly and raise one hand to stroke Whitney's cheek before going in for another kiss.
"God, you're perfect," Whitney whispered. He nipped Mark's lower lip lightly, hands lowering to his hips, clutching and urging Mark towards the couch. "I've dreamed of doing this for so long." His mouth latched onto Mark's earlobe, and he sucked it, tongue and lips working the soft flesh wetly. "It was all that got me through those nights, you know? I was out there, alone and afraid, but then I'd think of you." He tugged Mark onto him, both falling onto the couch.
Mark caught himself on the back of the couch so he didn't hit Whitney with his full weight. As he lowered himself into Whitney's lap--one leg on either side of Whitney's good one--he kissed the reddened lips with less passion but infinitely more tenderness than before. "Me too," Mark confessed. His thigh came in contact with the bulge underneath Whitney's pants; he rocked into it.
Whitney groaned, head falling back on the couch cushions. His hips rolled into Mark's thigh, fingers threaded through the loops on Mark's jeans as Whitney pressed his own thigh into Mark's crotch.
Bright-hot flares burst behind Mark's eyes. His head fell to Whitney's shoulder and he began to rock steadily into the other man. Sweat beaded at his temples and his breathing was ragged, Mark's own cock riding into Whitney's thigh. Whitney was moving underneath him, each breath a soft moan in Mark's ear. His hands grasped, his teeth captured, released, and recaptured Mark's ear continually as they rubbed against one another. There was no finesses, especially as the pressure grew underneath Mark's skin; all that he could think and feel was the blood pounding through his veins and the sharp tang of sweat that filled the air and his breath burning in his lungs and the gut twisting, carnal heat that flared out from his groin, making him conversely tense and melted at the same time.
And then Whitney is off the couch, grabbing Mark with both hands and yanking him into a kiss, all the while making an, "Oh, oh, *oh*," sounds and there's a warm, wet spot on his pants and his leg is coming up harder into Mark and Mark begins to spiral out of control and all he can do is cling to Whitney and kiss him and hope he didn't fly off the face of the earth.
"Oh God," he gasped, shuddering hard.
Whitney was shaking underneath him and holding him tightly. Heavy and overwhelmed, Mark slumped against him, resting his head on Whitney's shoulder.
Whitney turned his head, meeting Mark's eyes. "Sorry." A deep rose touched his cheeks, darker than the sweaty sex-flush of the rest of his face. "I imagined our first... everything a lot more dignified."
Mark pulled Whitney down for a kiss. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"Yeah, but, there are all these things I'd planned to say. Like, thank you for keeping me alive and you're the most amazing man I've ever known and, oh yeah, I love you." He kissed Mark again. "But when I saw you, I couldn't remember anything. All I wanted was to touch you." His calloused thumb scraped deliciously over Mark's cheek in the most tender touch he'd ever felt.
He pushed himself into a more comfortable position on the couch, still entwined with Whitney as much as he could be. "All we've had until now are words," he said, taking Whitney's hand and lacing their fingers. "I think we both needed something more." He brushed his lips lightly over Whitney's, then moved in again, his tongue massaging Whitney's lower lip. "I love you, too."
Whitney's relief was palpable in his kiss and his hands which were both fierce and possessive as he pulled Mark on top of him.
Mark broke the kiss and said, "Um. Why don't we go into the bedroom? And try all of this again?"
"Yeah." Whitney grinned, his smile crooked and hungry. "Um. Can you maybe get some water or something?"
"And snacks. I'm not letting you out for awhile. We'll need supplies."
"That sounds good to me."
* * *
Now, most of you will probably just love me enough to give me feedback. I appreciate that, I really do. I just hope that, one day, someone loves me enough to buy me porn. Specifically, this porn.
Well. I love myself enough to do it, but I have to wait at least one or two paychecks. I just hope I get it before the limited time offer expires. Otherwise, I'll just get this.
I really wish they were selling Mardi Gras Cowboy, but they aren't. :(
Um. Hope you enjoyed part1
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 11:20 am (UTC)I was waiting for this scene since they begann to write each other. It was perfect.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-17 04:33 pm (UTC)