TOG - Joe/Nicky
Joe’s shaking hands loosen the straps on Nicky’s body armour, at his waist, then his shoulders. Nicky does the same, fumbling to remove the vest and then the clothes beneath. They don’t stop until they’re both naked, turning each other around, hands running everywhere in a practised inventory. Apart from their faces, the blood has mostly come off with the clothes.
It’s always been like this. Joe’s fingers haven’t forgotten how to unlace Nicky’s favoured zerer bagtar. His ears remember the sound of that chain mail shirt landing on the floor at the exact moment his lips landed on Nicky’s.
But the need for this reassurance feels all the more acute since Andy stopped healing. He inspects Nicky again and again until Nicky, laughing, catches both his hands, holding them away from their bodies, pushing their chests together.
Joe’s hands have mostly stopped trembling now. “Touch me another way, Joe,” Nicky tells him, “from love, not fear.”
Joe nods, blinking, pulling himself back together, finding a smile for his lover. “You had better give me my hands back then,” he points out.
“Oh, had I?”
Joe pulls free, and Nicky allows himself to be sent off balance. All armour gone.