'cause we're lovers, and that is a fact Who: Gabe & Rafe. What: One thing leads to another. Where: Rafe's apartment. When: Backdated to Oct. 14. Warning: NC-17 for M/M.
Empty food cartons were piled in the garbage can, freshly scrubbed plates on the drying rack next to the sink all spoke to the evening that had come before. Gabe had surprised Rafe with dinner—pad thai with shrimp, noodle soup, and gai med ma moung—allowing the two of them a quiet evening in. He'd finished a rough draft early, having intentionally pushed himself into doing so following the strange events of the key hall. And now with the hallways twisting into what seemed like some cruel mockery of stereotypical October, Gabe felt even more worried that Rafe would be pushed to limits he would not be able to follow.
An hour later and a full belly had him feeling more relieved as they laid back on Rafe's couch watching The OA on Netflix. Gabe was spooning Rafe, one arm thrown over his middle as his head was pillowed by his bent arm. On TV, a young woman who was previously blind and suddenly—miraculously, inexplicably—cured began to tell her story to a group of high school teenagers.
"This is where it really gets going, everything up until now was just window dressing," he muttered into the back of Rafe's head, doing so less to have a chance to speak and more to press his lips along the curved ridge of Rafe's tender ear. On screen, the image shifted, changing suddenly to a snowy Russian landscape.
Rafael snuggled back into his partner's warm embrace. His eyes, already heavy lidded, drifted entirely closed; his had tipped, his ear pressing once more to Gabe's lips. He mumbled something he intended as encouragement. The show was interesting, to be sure, and it held his attention even as he fought off sleep. But the feeling of a full stomach, a clear mind, and his beloved at his back were simply too new, too welcome, for him to be distracted by any show. He reached one hand back, bringing it to rest on Gabe's hip.
"I like this," he said. "The show, too, but… this."
Gabe smiled, his lips and breath still close to Rafe's ear. "Me too, anjo. Feels like..." how it always should have been, he started before thinking better of it. He didn't want Rafe thinking he was bitter in any way; just glad that they were back where it felt like they both belonged. His hand around Rafe's waist tightened, fingers balling gently in the cloth of Rafe's shirt, dragging Rafe's backside a little more into his front. Content and tired, Gabe slowly pulled Rafe's ear into his mouth, teeth outlining the ridge as his hand sank a little lower—until he remembered Rafe's insistence on taking things slow. He pulled back as casually as he could.
On screen, a little blind girl was sent away from her father. The show switched back to the present day, showing two teenage lovers in bed, a girl on top of a boy. It did not help Gabe's particular line of thought. Rafael's, it seemed, ran in much the same vein.
"Don't stop," he whispered. His head canted back once more; careless, his hips rolled, pushing him back into Gabriel's groin. Rafe's hand tightened on his hip, his thumb pressing into the ridge of bone. "I like that." His eyes were on the screen, but his hands remained on Gabe. How easily those memories came back, and how vivid: skinny bodies tangled on a narrow, creaking mattress, learning one another and their own budding desires. A welcome flush crept up Rafe's neck, and he smiled as he pushed back against Gabe once again. Gabe half-swallowed a moan.
"Are...are you sure?" Even as the question came tumbling out of his mouth, he could feel blood rushing to his smaller brain, further encouraged by Rafe's small, soft sound of agreement. The hand on Rafe's chest curled cloth around it, then pushed up, seeking skin; he forced himself to keep it above Rafe's waistband. His mouth, however, went right back to Rafe's ear, lips moving in a careful line down its back. He followed that along Rafe's neck, finding a soft and tender spot at the junction of neck and shoulder, and began to carefully worry it with teeth and tongue. After a beat, his hips pressed back against Rafe's, small, gentle motions that were only hinting at what Gabe would have very much liked to do in that moment.
Rafael made no effort at all to curb his answering groan. His hand slipped beneath Gabe's shirt, fitting to his warm, bare hip. He felt his partner's stirring length fitted to the curve of his backside, and could not resist a slow, teasing grind against him that pulled a longer, more insistent groan from Gabe's mouth. Rafe shivered with the next press of Gabriel's teeth. A small smile curved his lips.
He turned in Gabe's arms; both hands moved beneath his shirt, fingertips skimming light over dusky flesh. With his index finger he traced from Gabe's chest downward, following the narrow trail of dark hair there. He paused at the waistband of his pants, tracing the line of cloth as he leaned in and pressed a questioning kiss to Gabe's lips.
His partner could not hold himself back; between desire and sleep, any boundaries that his mind might have originally drawn were erased wholly in favor of simple want. Arms went tighter around Rafe's waist, his own hands drawing the other man's shirt up to press flat-palmed to his back; Gabe's mouth pressed to Rafe's, his tongue drawing a line across the seam seeking permission to enter.
"God, I don't know how you do it," he muttered against the other man's lips, his own curved in amusement as half-lidded eyes studied Rafe's, "all this time and I just... you make me feel crazy." His hips pushed up toward Rafe's questing touch, encouraging more of the same. He kept his own hands politely pressed against Rafe's back, half above the waistband of his pants.
"Then we're even," Rafe answered. He opened his mouth to Gabriel's, his tongue sliding against his lower lip, inviting him in. His hands moved to Gabe's fly, unbuttoning and unzipping with a slow deliberation, as though he meant to convince Gabriel of the sincerity of his want. He broke their kiss only to draw a much-needed breath. Seeking fingers slid lower, pushing pants and underwear down. Then his mouth was on Gabe's again, drinking him in with naked hunger. Gabe easily equaled him in fervor, pulling Rafe as close as he dared. The feeling of the other man's hand in his pants made his mind spin, more sounds echoing against and into Rafe's mouth.
Slowly, waiting for the moment Rafe might say no, he slid his own hands beneath Rafe's waistband; fingerpads traced the swell of his partner's backside, his hips, gently taking handfuls as the show played forgotten on the television across from them. Gabe unconsciously slid a leg between Rafe's, a knee parting his lover's legs, his hips moving forward again as his hands took what they wanted.
Rafe moaned into his mouth. His right leg slid easily over Gabriel's hip; he rocked forward, grinding himself against Gabe's thigh. His tongue pushed over Gabe's, then slid beneath. His hands roved over his partner's body: splaying over his ribs, passing soft over one nipple, then coming to rest, nails dug in, at his shoulders. He resented the cloth bunched up between them, but not enough to break their kiss and put such things to words. Instead he took all he was given and silently asked for more. His hips rolled forward again, sliding his shorts lower, exposing more of himself to Gabriel's touch.
Gabriel's hands parted Rafael's cheeks, then swept lower to grope at the man again. His fingers brushed dangerously close to more private areas, but he held himself back, though not without some regret.
"Tell me if I'm going too far, anjo," he said, muttering against Rafe's mouth. His whole body felt electrified from the way the other man was touching him; he pulled Rafe against him again, and then pulled back enough to reach for his anjo's front, the back of his hand sliding along fine hair and dark, warm, sensitive skin until fingers found and wrapped around his length. Rafe sighed, a shiver racing down his spine. "Tell me what you want, Rafael," he muttered, his words half formed against the other man's lips.
"You." His teeth found Gabriel's bottom lip, drawing it into a sharp kiss. His eyes opened, met Gabe's, and in that moment Rafael felt no fear at all. His hands softened against Gabriel's back, the pads of his fingers smoothing away what small marks he had made. He kissed him gently, deeply, and smiled against his mouth. "Let's go to my room."
His leg slipped down from Gabe's hip. Slowly he untangled himself from Gabriel's embrace, and took his hand in his own; Gabe hiked up his pants as they rose from the couch, and eagerly followed Rafe's direction. The television droned on, its noise receding into nothing as he led his partner down the hall. At the foot of the bed, Rafe turned to face him once more, pulling his hand close and bringing it to rest on his hip. He said nothing, only brought one hand to curve at Gabriel's nape, pulling him into another hungry kiss.
His partner needed little encouragement; he swept Rafe into his arms, hands sliding around the small of his back. He pushed Rafe's shirt up, hiking it over his chest, to his shoulders. Gabe pulled back enough to peel the cloth over Rafe's head, dropping it to the floor in favor of reclaiming his lover's mouth. Fingers tumbled over the ridges of Rafe's ribcage, dancing over his abs. Gabe maneuvered, slowly, trying not to trip over his own feet in his eagerness, his partner to standing just before the bed, gently pushing him down on it. His mouth went over Rafe's jaw, the long line of his neck, the jagged outline of his clavicle as he made his way down to trace the soft hills of his abs. It wasn't long before his fingers were making quick work of Rafe's pants button as he went to his knees before him.
Rafael raised himself up on his elbows, the better to watch Gabriel move over him. He raised his hips to help Gabe slide his shorts down, letting his clothes pool at his bare feet. His breath caught in his throat; anticipation moved, electric, down his spine. He reached down, one hand sliding soft against Gabe's cheek. Dark eyes passed over his every feature, as if committing every detail of this moment to memory.
"I love you, gatinho."
Gabe's eyes locked with Rafe's. "I love you, meu amorzinho," he murmured in reply; he kept that eyelock as he moved down, mouth sliding over the tender flesh of Rafe's groin, hands on Rafe's knees to gently part them. Teeth slid along the interior of one thigh as his hand went to cup Rafe's already half-swollen member; he lifted it up enough to let his mouth find the soft sac beneath, pulling it carefully between his lips, coaxing a quiet moan from his lover. He could feel himself growing harder, had been growing harder with the loss of each piece of clothing, but the feeling of being exactly where he wanted to be permeated a calm throughout his form that was unlike any other.
Keeping the same pace as he had throughout the whole encounter, Gabe moved to bring the tip of Rafe's member to his mouth, and pulled him in completely down his throat; hands locked on Rafe's hips, giving him a stable platform from which to work.
Rafe tangled one hand in Gabriel's hair; the other came to rest on his own hip, tightly covering Gabe's warm hand. His head fell back, a moan falling past his parted lips. He did not move, did not pull Gabe's mouth down on him; he held himself almost still, basking in the feel of his lover around him; Gabe slowly began to work himself back, and down again, evolving a slow but steady rhythm. Some small motions could not be helped on Rafe's part: the twitch of his cock on Gabe's tongue, the lift of his hips as Gabe took him fully in over and over. His eyes were heavy lidded, but they remained on Gabe's face, watching every motion of his perfect, dearly-missed mouth on his body.
He caught himself tugging too sharply at Gabriel's hair. He released him, smiling sheepishly, feeling warm color already rising to his cheeks. He brought his free hand to rest on Gabe's grip, pinning his hands against the hard lines of his hips.
"God, you feel good," he sighed, his eyes heavy lidded with lust. Gabe pulled back enough to run the flat of his tongue along Rafe's length.
"Well you taste even better than I remember," he murmured, hot breath playing over Rafe's cock. His hand moved down to cup his lover's sac as he studied Rafe's long, lean form leaned back against the bed.
"You look good, too," he said, stroking Rafe again. Gabriel shifted on his knees, letting his pants slide a little further down to give his burgeoning arousal some room. "Gives a body ideas."
The flush on Rafe's cheeks only deepened. He hesitated, but only briefly. Then he reached down and took Gabe's hand, tugging him upward. The moment he was on his feet, Rafael pulled at him again, guiding him onto the bed above him. His hands moved to Gabe's waist, pushing his pants farther down.
"Tell me about these ideas," Rafe said. They were so close now, every word was written on Gabe's slick lips. He leaned up, and punctuated his demand with a soft, lingering kiss. One hand curled at Gabriel's nape; the other drifted lower, nimble fingers circling his length. There was a subtle tension in his body that spoke to his unwanted anxiety, but it did not stop his hands from their work, did not keep his leg from rising against Gabriel's own.
Gabe hovered over Rafe for a moment, paused to gauge the situation; he moved one hand down, shifting each leg to shove his pants off and onto the floor. Staying on his hands and knees, he dipped his mouth low enough to tenderly kiss Rafe again, the liplock slow and drawn out. He kissed down along his lover's jaw, writing as much as speaking his next words.
"I want to make love to you," he whispered; a hand came to Rafe's waist. Rafe trembled, smiling all the while. "I want to be inside you. I want to make you come, I want to come inside you, I want to hold you. I want to make you feel good, anjo. I want you." By the time he'd finished, he was halfway down Rafe's throat. The feeling of Rafael unfurled warm beneath him was making him crazy, and making it more than difficult to remain just above him.
The sharp arch of Rafael's spine made plain his own desires. He pressed himself up to Gabe's every kiss, every touch; his breath came increasingly shallow and quick. His arms wrapped around Gabriel's back, pulling him closer. His arousal pressed between them, almost painfully hard, his body humming with his lover's touch. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes. Eu te quero, eu preciso de você, touch me, please…"
It took no more encouragement to break the tenuous willpower that had been keeping Gabe just one step above polite in terms of what he'd thought were Rafe's desires. He pressed down, his body aligned with Rafael's, hips grinding into his lover's. He shuddered, groaning as his swollen member brushed Rafe's, the feeling electric through his abdomen. His lips moved back to Rafe's, his tongue urgent and possessive inside the other man's mouth. After a moment, he slipped a hand around Rafe's back, scooting them both up the bed in small increments. He slipped once, laughing a little as he made their way toward the pillows at the head of the bed. Rafael grabbed him, holding him up as they moved, and smiled against Gabe's mouth.
Once he was within reach, and without having to move further away from Rafe than necessary, he strained for the drawer on the side table where he knew Rafael kept a bottle of lube. It came to hand quickly, and his movements showed his eagerness as fingers moved between Rafe's backside, pads rubbing over his entrance. Rafe exhaled a shaky sigh. Gabe leaned into Rafe, tilting the other man's body up as he pressed themselves against one another again.
Rafe drew his legs around Gabe's waist, pulling him close as he moved where Gabriel bid. He was more relaxed than he had expected; Gabe's every touch seemed to calm him anew, to heighten only pleasant anticipation, to reassure him of the rightness of their joining. His hands moved over Gabe's sides, feeling every inch of him. He canted his hips upward, opening himself up to the press of his partner's length.
"I love you," he said again, catching Gabriel's mouth with his own. He traced the seam of Gabe's mouth with his tongue, an open invitation. Then his hands moved to Gabe's shoulders, short nails digging in, and he pulled him closer still. Gabe fell into that embrace, pressed down to Rafe's warm, familiar form. Even though the hard planes of his body had shifted slightly over the years, he could still trace out the same pathways that his fingers had trod all those years ago.
Rather than verbally reply, his mouth overtook Rafe's, mouth demanding as his tongue explored teeth and things deeper still. His hips pushed Rafe's apart, his member pressed between the slick cheeks of his lover; one hand pressed in the right place, and he was at Rafael's entrance. He pressed slow, so slow, to enjoy the sensation of Rafe engulfing him whole. He faintly remembered the experience when he'd been 18; he did not think he'd get a chance to relive that experience, feeling Rafe from the inside for the first time all over again.
Rafe sucked in a sharp breath, cold against Gabriel's mouth. But with Gabe above him, kissing him deeply, taking his time, he found his limbs relaxing, his body opening to welcome his partner. The hissing breath became a moan, muffled as he held Gabe's tongue against his. He trembled, his legs parting wider; his hips canted upward, and his legs wrapped tight around Gabe's waist.
Words failed him, so he wrote all he wanted to express on Gabe's skin, marked there with short nails, kiss-swollen lips, the press of his heel into Gabriel's ass. With a roll of his hips he drew Gabe deeper, groaning rough and ragged as he felt himself stretched and spread.
Gabe stayed close to Rafe, holding him not just with his arms but with his body; his profile was pressed to the other man's, his cock sinking deeper until he was flush against Rafael's body. He paused, feeling their breathing align, chests rising and falling synchronously. Eyes opened, studying Rafael's face, hands moving, sliding carefully up and down Rafe's back. "Are you all right?" He asked, his voice quiet, respectful of the dark and the silence around them.
Rafe nodded. A shaky smile curved his lips, barely visible in the moonlight spilling through half-closed blinds. "Mmhm." He raised his shoulders to Gabe's hands, offering himself up; tipped his head, and tenderly kissed his partner once more. "Just… slow."
But for all that it was Rafe who moved again, who writhed beneath him to begin a slow, deep rhythm. His back arched against the bed, bowing his body upward to Gabe's. His hands slid down Gabe's back, tracing the taut muscles there, barely restrained hunger in his every touch. His partner attempted to smother the strangled cry that broke free at the sensation of Rafael moving around him, but Gabe was unsuccessful; instead, he pressed his face to Rafe's profile again, and followed the man's simple instructions.
He withdrew, hips moving the barest of inches, then pressed home again, sliding in and out. Between being squeezed, the warmth of Rafe's form, and the familiar beachside smell enveloping him, Gabe was two steps away from believing he'd died and gone to heaven.
"How do you feel even better than I remember?" he muttered, the thought mostly being spoken aloud rather than seeking an answer. His hands slid down Rafe's back, tilting the man up again into his strokes, his mouth on Rafe's. "Eu te amo, mi anjo," he followed, a little louder, hands grasping at skin as he sank once more into his lover.
Rafe shuddered in Gabriel's arms, clutching all the harder at the tight plane of his back. Those familiar, well-worn words in that familiar voice—the language Gabriel had learned for him, once upon a time—set a fire in him he had no desire to control. His moan was a long, low vibration against Gabe's mouth, a forceful slide of his tongue over Gabe's. He pressed up, up, his chest crushed to Gabe's, his shoulders rolling to that firm grip. A tremor passed through his thighs, clenched hard as they were around Gabriel's hips. He tipped himself up into each welcome thrust. Torn between desperately wanting to draw this out and the unspeakably pleasant sensations coursing through him, Rafael could not help a small, frustrated cry, punctuating another twist of his hips on his lover's.
Gabe repeated the words, letting them sink into a chant that followed each thrust that drove him deeper into the man beneath him; it seemed they were one mass of limbs, teeth, tongues, moving over one another until he wasn't sure where Rafe ended and he began. It was a beautiful dissolution, to be so wound up in another; all too quickly he was feeling an overwhelming heat between his legs, a need that he staved off for as long as he could. Feeling Rafael trembling beneath him, his breath shuddered a question against Rafe's skin. "Are you close?"
He gasped a kind of answer, his head turning to catch Gabriel's mouth again. "Yes," he breathed, his hips twitching once more. He held himself there, wrapped tight around his lover, his nails digging shallow crescents into sweat-slick skin. His hard length ground between them, stroked with every perfect thrust. "Right there, gatinho, right there, don't stop…" He drew a shuddering breath. The smile that had crept onto his lips was unfeigned, unforced, and so bright he felt it to his very core. He reached for Gabe, grasping at every bit of flesh close enough to hold, and pulled his face to where he could watch him as they came.
Gabriel grinned in return, his forehead pressed tight to Rafael's as he thrust again, and again, pushing them both toward that edge; then it grabbed him up, and he could feel Rafe's orgasm beneath him in a riot of muscles, there and gone too quickly. But the pleasant, overwhelming feeling left behind was more than enough, especially when wound so close to his anjo.
He pumped into Rafe again, his mouth covering the other man's for a handful more kisses as they sank back into the bedding. One hand moved to grasp the side of Rafe's face, his eyes studying him with frantic, careful glances. "Are you OK, anjo? That was OK for you?" He slowly withdrew, but stayed as close as he could to Rafe's skin, his chest heaving.
Rafael nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. He was grinning still, happier and more at ease than he had been since time out of mind. Every part of him felt perfectly relaxed, perfectly calm. He swept a gentle hand over Gabriel's cheek. "Thank you, gato. That was…" He yawned, and hid that small sign of exhaustion by burying his face in Gabe's shoulder. Then he kissed him there, too, and fell back against the pillow. "Too good to me," he mumbled. Gabe grinned widely, shaking his head.
Rafe pushed at Gabriel, tired for the best of reasons now, and still wanting to keep his lover close. As they settled into the sheets he hugged him near, enjoying the feel of their bodies still wrapped so tight together. Gabe had no complaints about remaining near his anjo; adjusting one pillow under his head, he let his eyes close and darkness took him.