makinglies | Timeshift

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Timeshift

It doesn't take an alarm to wake Albert, which is good considering the thing would get tossed right across the room by his husband and never work again. Instead, Albert wakes with the soft bustling of the city below and the sound of the ocean against Venetian shores. It's a nice change to the honking cars and endless rush of Berlin or New York, he thinks to himself just as he thinks it every morning. Venice is still a big city, but the mornings are slow and peaceful, enough that even in his drowsy pre-coffee haze the German can appreciate it, especially when he has nowhere to be.

With a gentle kiss to Jet's shoulder and a light brush through soft copper hair, Albert slips from the bed and lumbers his way downstairs, idly scratching a superficial itch on his stomach as he descends. Mechanically he goes through all the motions of making coffee, idly wondering - again as he does every morning - why they haven't gotten one of those fancy coffee pots that turns itself on in the morning and has the brew ready by the time he's awake. And again he reminds himself that Jet would probably destroy it if he tried to use it. Oh, Jet... Albert loves his husband dearly, but the blond can't do anything in the kitchen without it becoming a certified disaster.

Wait.

Blond...

Albert's mug clatters back to the counter with a loud clatter.

"Was zum Henker?!"

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Years? That couldn't be right. Every second that passed was only making things more and more confusing for the teen and he defensively crossed his arms tighter, a response to his mounting frustration.

"I dunno, we were in Berlin when I went to sleep, you had all your hair and your left arm wasn't fully metal like that. What more do you want?" He really didn't mean to snap or sound quite this aggressively agitated, but it was the only reaction he could come up with that offered some sort of familiarity.

"You guys had a mission to check out GB's friend and that Aztec princess or whatever showed up. That was about a week ago.

Edited 2014-06-20 06:33 (UTC)

"That was fifty years ago." He tries to say it as gently as he can, but it still comes out confused and worried. This is Jet before Yomi, obviously, but before so many other things too. Jet young and angry and...

Gott all he wants to do is wrap his arms around the redhead and tell him everything really will be alright. That he knows it will because he's lived it. Or to tell him not to disappear on him for thirty years without so much as a word.

But there's no knowing how long this will last and he's not sure if it would change anything, if he should change anything, or if this is permanent. Is his Jet, Jet from now (because really they're both his Jet) back then with the Professor in his beach house? It's all very confusing.

Jet's quiet and still, his body language unchanged as he tried to consider this. His first instinct was to wonder if he should really believe something that sounded so ridiculous, but Albert wasn't in the habit of lying to him.

On the assumption he did believe him, then what had happened to him? He almost asked but it was clear Albert was just as confused as he was.

Fifty years...that was his lifetime all over again...it would certainly explain why Albert looked different and why they were somewhere else; all that time, things were bound to change.

"Wait...that makes you like a hundred or something." He looked away and slowly uncurled his arms from around his chest as he attempted to calm down and not bite the German's head off with every other word. "You look good for being so old."

'Good' was an understatement, but right now didn't really seem like a good time to oogle his partner. "If you're not lyin' to me, which I'm gonna go with cause you look like you've seen a ghost, then what now?"

Something about being complimented by Jet like this burns Albert's cheeks a little. Maybe it's the glint in the teen's eye, maybe it's that his own thoughts - the ones underneath he's trying not to acknowledge - are far less than chaste.

"I don't know. We could call the Professor, see what he thinks?" Yes, that's a much better idea than the one that popped up sanz clothing from the wellspring of his imagination. Clearing his throat, Albert busies himself with cleaning his spilled coffee instead of dwelling on it.

"Yeah..."

Honestly, he was a little nervous to call on anyone. ifty years and the doc was still kickin' and he and Albert were still together, who knew what differences there might be if he dug too deep; differences he wouldn't want to know about.

Of course, the part his brain kept going back to was the bit about how he and Albert were still going strong -if the fact they'd been sleeping in the same bed had been any indication. The thought made him happier than he could think to express.

Well...maybe there was one way.

"In a bit...I mean, could just be temporary or something. Besides..." His brain scrambled for something alluring, something that would get Albert riled up and interested in what Jet was interested in, but his mind went blank and it showed in the slightly-too-long pause.

He was decent at recovering quickly, though, so he went with the next best option: his lips firmly planted on the German's.

Coffee sponged up, good, though some got in the grout of the tiles and he'll have to think about that another time apparently because suddenly familiar lips are against his and long arms twine around his neck and his mind goes white in the panic as to whether he should kiss back (which he does) or pull away (which he also does. Belatedly.)

"J-Jet, are you- I mean, is this a good idea? You're-" possibly the victim of some kind of anti-cyborg plot, not necessarily thinking straight, so much narrower than I remember "...half my age this way..."

God damn me for honesty.

Jet pulled back when Albert did, though didn't pull away if he could help it. Albert running his mouth like this was both endearing and frustrating at the same time with what was going through Jet's head.

"If that. But you've always been significantly older than me, since when have I cared about that?"

He leaned in a little closer, pressing himself to Albert's body and trying to catch him against the counter. Although he was hoping the German would just bend him over the counter. He didn't know what it was about this older version, but he'd only gotten hotter with age and it made the hormonal teen antsy.

"Come on, Al...it's not like you're cheating on me."

"No... I suppose you're right, I just..." He makes an impatient noise, the same sort he'd always made when frustrated with his own ability to make up his mind. There is a part of him, a not so small part, that wants to show this version of his lover how well they've come to know each other, how many of his secret desires Albert's discovered and fulfilled. Absurdly, he wants this younger Jet's approval.

And it's not cheating, as Jet said; this and the blond are the same person, just as he's the same as he was, if tempered by time and experience. Though he may not have been so easy to convince had Jet not decided to rub himself into Albert's body, pressing him back against the kitchen counter with lust in those bourbon eyes.

In one sudden movement, Albert catches Jet's chin and pulls him into another kiss, this one forceful and claiming. Maybe he can show Jet now what he'll lose if he leaves for those many years and he'll change history; maybe he just wants the chance to relive what they had before when he'd been too reserved to show Jet the exact length and breadth of his feelings; maybe he's just hot for he redhead, but any or all three of these explain why his metal hand slides up the back of Jet's shirt, tracing just under shoulder blades the way he's discovered his partner likes.

The kiss is the reaction Jet had been hoping to receive and he eagerly kissed back and pressed their hips together. One of his hands pressed in against the small of the German's back to get as much contact as he could.

When his partner's hand found the place under his shoulder blades, he moaned into the kiss and nearly melted where he stood. His Albert hadn't done that before, hell, Jet didn't know he liked that...but he definitely liked that.

His other hand found and clung to Albert's shoulder as he rolled his hips up to rub their crotches together. /He needed the older man and Jet needed him to know it.

As forceful and overbearing as Jet can be sometimes, Albert knows he prefers to be taken despite the urgent movements of his lover's hips. It's why all the talk before the action and why Albert slips his tongue down the younger man's throat and leans him back enough that he can take his free hand and shove things off the counter. The cutting board among other things clatter to the tile without Albert paying it any heed. Instead, as soon as the space is clear, he gives one last suck on Jet's tongue, one more nibble on that bottom lip then turns the redhead around and slides him into bending forward over the now-empty counter by running one cold, metallic hand slowly down his spine.

Jet may be the louder one, but Albert knows what he really wants, even if this Jet doesn't quite know it yet. Once his fingers finish tracing every vertebrae, Albert's hands dip teasingly just below Jet's waistband, hoping to elicit some sort of noise.

Albert suddenly taking control wasn't unheard of, it just usually took more prodding from Jet and wasn't nearly so instant and possessive. This was rough and needy and Jet found he liked it a lot more than he would have guessed.

He was turned on by Albert's actions and mood even beyond him touching the teen--so much so that by the time those fingers found their way to his spine, he was panting and gasping while hands dipping into his pants pulls a light cry from the red-head.

Even as overwhelmed as he was, he could feel the light hesitation that was Albert teasing him and it drove him crazy. He didn't know what his older self had done over the years to get Albert to be like this, but Jet appreciated it. He didn't have the patience to be teased right now.

Gathering what wits he still had about him, Jet pressed back with his hips to grind up against the German.

"Stop messin' with me, Al, get on with it!"

"Don't make me rush." He nuzzles the words into the back of Jet's neck, sliding the first two fingers of his right hand into the redhead's mouth to keep him quiet. After so many long years he barely remembers how hesitant he used to be to use that hand for anything, especially anything intimate. Now it's a normal part of life and so he barely gives it a thought beyond being careful not to knock against Jet's teeth.

His other hand moves in a quick motion to pull Jet's trousers and underwear out of the way, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor and free Jet to the room. Another moment and two probing fingers slip into the younger man, Albert's face still buried in gorgeous red hair and the rest of him pinning the teen to the counter bodily.

Albert sliding those metal fingers into his mouth was such a surprise he almost commented on it. Or he would have if he could have talked around them, instead he became far too distracted by what Albert's other hand was doing and a light moan escaped Jet. Between Albert pressing against him and his body becoming Albert's instrument under his partner's hands, Jet was turned on to more than he could ever remember being. Sounds escaped him at every small movement of any kind the German made.

He tried to be patient, but it just wasn't happening this time, and since he couldn't verbally get Albert to move faster, he settled for trying to move his hips as best he could to pull off of those fingers and shove himself back on them, a small whimper of need winding past that gun hand.

"Careful, careful, this hand his metal now too." He's forced to move his fingers along with Jet's hips in the same direction so the teen doesn't hurt himself, amused at how eager he is for the experience. In the future, Jet is still more than willing but they've grown accustomed to a certain rhythm, fallen into a pattern. Younger Jet apparently not so much.

"Did I really leave you this unsatisfied?" Albert withdraws his fingers from Jet's mouth, instead running his hand back to the younger man's shoulders to gently but firmly force him down against the counter. That should take care of any potentially dangerous movement. "I'll have to fix that."

A third finger joins the first two, purposely stretching with tender care to prepare Jet for what comes after.

He's disappointed he couldn't get the friction he desperately wanted, but some distant part of his mind acknowledged Albert was right; Jet wasn't accounting for the reason that hand was so cold in him, that it was metal as well and wouldn't give as easily as he remembered.

"No...It's not that--" His explanation was cut off by that third finger entering him and causing a gasp that he tried to bury in the surface of the counter.

"Albert...I need you." His response is supposed to be the continued explanation, but it comes out as breathy and desperate. It wasn't that 'his' Albert had left him unsatisfied, it was that he didn't know this was something that turned him on so much. The fact Albert was pinning him down and had three fingers in him, leaving Jet unable to move or retaliate or do much of anything beyond what Albert wanted to do with him.

Albert had generally been the one to be on top, but he'd never taken such control before and Jet didn't even know he was comfortable letting him have it all like this. But he also trusted Albert completely, he knew the older man (much older in this case) would take care of him and that just made the display of possessive power exceedingly hot for the teen.

"Please...I want you inside me already-!"

"Always so impatient." He stretches with his fingers again, carefully preparing Jet, then curls them once before withdrawing all three smoothly. There's little time before he puts pressure on Jet's entrance again, this time with what the younger man had been pleading for all along. And really, Albert had been waiting for this moment and he intends to savor it.

He pushes in by degrees, one hand braced on Jet's hip to keep him down against the countertop while the other hand latches around the redhead's wrist, not pulling or clutching, just holding him firmly as he slides inside, filling the smaller man up and feeling the press of just how tight and eager Jet is to have him there.

Albert filling him so thoroughly curls his fingers and bows his spine a bit. A loud, unrestrained moan slips from the red head and for a moment, he can't think beyond Albert being inside him and how he can't decide if he wants him to go fast or slow because both sounded wonderful and terrible right now.

One thought finally forms around the pleasured little sounds and the white that filled his head: touch, there wasn't nearly enough touch.

The hand not being held reaches back as much as he can to grope at the hand on his hip, not in an attempt to move it, just to touch it and have some part of his partner in his grasp.

Edited 2014-09-08 05:50 (UTC)

Once he's completely in, Albert lets his body do the work of pinning Jet, instead moving his hand to grasp the younger man's that clutches at his. He knows from their years together that Jet needs constant contact, that even if he's plowing into him with wild abandon, the American will still reach for him to clutch and hold. It's just how he is, and Albert loves him for it even as he marvels at the man's presence of mind to do so.

Fingers curled between his partner's, Albert starts moving slowly but hard, drawing himself out slowly and carefully and then plunging back into him until he's completely buried. It's a heavy pace, plodding and rough and designed to keep Albert going for long enough to make Jet a shuddering mess in his arms.

The pace pulls gasps and cries and every other deep thrust sends Albert in at an angle that sends noticeable shudders down Jet's spine. It was slow, but it was rough and god did it feel good.

His grip grew tight around Albert's hand while his other hand gripped the lip of the counter opposite the one he was bent over. He moved with each thrust, revealing in the tight pull as the German moved his hips back and the sharp, friction-filled, push as he moved them back in to slap against Jet's ass. As an attempt to gain more sounds from his partner, Jet's body tightened around the older man, increasing the friction for every movement he made.

It was a symphony of sounds, grunts, cries, pants between them both and the sound of skin against skin and skin against granite. As Albert plowed into him, Jet's hips would hit the counter's edge and he thought the bruises that would bloom there well worth it; or he would once his thoughts were coherent again.

Right now they were caught in the gravity of the man behind him.

Maybe it isn't presence of mind that makes Jet grasp so, maybe it's simply how he is with Albert, utterly insatiable and drunk for more contact, clutching for every scrap he can manage and still it's not enough because it will never be enough while they both still draw breath.

Maybe it's the same for Jet as it is for Albert, always wanting more of them together. Shared touch, shared breath, shared pleasure, shared life.

The very idea has Albert changing his pace just a little, has him leaning over Jet entirely so he can lay kisses and puffs of breath on the younger man's neck and shoulders even if it means he can't pull out quite as far. They both want the contact, need it, ache for it, and so long as it's within Albert's power to provide he will.

Only even this isn't enough.

He takes a breath, almost like a low growl in his possessive movements, and pulls away just long enough to turn Jet around, sliding him backwards onto the counter and bearing down on him again almost immediately so Jet isn't left empty for long. This is better, this way so he can feel Jet's arms tightly around him and his own can hold the redhead close. Face to face so he can kiss his lover's face, his lips, his neck with a scrape of teeth. Anything to make Jet lose control completely, to dig his fingers into Albert's back and leave marks the German will wear proudly because they're just as meaningful as if Jet had written his name on Albert's back in permanent ink, tattooed forever.

Property of Jet.

The sudden position change pulls a gasp from him, but as soon as he's filled once more, the gasp turns to a loud moan he'd be embarrassed of if he noticed it. But Albert was driving into him as hard as before and now Jet could wrap around him and keep him close.

Every fiber of Jet needed Albert just to keep existing. The kisses and graze of teeth send static pulsing through his mind. His arms wrapped tightly around that broad body and his fingers dug into the cloth, biting the skin underneath with how tightly he clung to the older man. But they couldn't stay still, one dug into the shirt and tore along Albert's back, the only thing sparing the fabric being the fact Jet's nails just weren't sharp enough. But they gave it their best shot. The other hand found new purchase on the back of Albert's head as long fingers tangled tightly into short silver strands. If he had more presence of mind, he might loosen his grip for fear of hurting Albert, but his mind was a million miles away; everything was sensation and how damn good it all felt.

He was losing control, not just of himself and his actions, but of the restraint keeping him from finishing sooner than he'd like. But he wasn't giving in just yet, he needed to feel Albert digging into his body and clutching him close like he was the most important thing Albert had ever touched, it was a combination of feelings he'd never get tired of.

He is, oh if Jet only knew just how important he was to Albert, how inexorably he'd entwined himself into the older man's life and Albert never means to cut him loose. He holds Jet crushingly close, as if he could pour the knowledge into the younger man and fill him completely with the sense of love and power that Jet holds over him, will always hold over him even when absent.

One arm remains around Jet's waist, holding him flush to Albert so he can continue driving into the redhead, but the other hand gets hopelessly lost in fiery copper, cradling Jet's head so Albert can press loving kisses against those slightly pouted lips, can slip his tongue between Jet's teeth and claim the American's mouth with just as much fervor as he's claimed the rest of him. He wants to fill his Jet up with the knowledge that he's wanted, needed so desperately that he'll never stray, that the years apart will somehow cease to be, replaced with precious memories together.

It's a fleeting hope, but one he can't help but cling to.

His fingers found their way under the hem of Albert's shirt, he didn't need it gone, he just needed access to that soft skin so his nails could dig in and likely leave deep red marks by the time he freed the skin beneath them.

But this patch of skin was his, the hair under his fingers was his, this man was his. Albert owned him body and soul and was definitely showing it with his clinging arms, rough pace and claiming kisses, but Jet owned him right back and he showed it in the way he clung back and the way his teeth and tongue scraped along Albert's tongue and lips and face, anything he could reach and kiss.

His breathing was ragged and he could feel that stirring and the pressure building, but he needed more time to claim and be claimed, he needed more of the man he adored. His fingers tightened in Albert's hair to get his attention and he tried to speak to him between kisses and scrapes of teeth.

"Al...Albert...I'm close...not yet, please, j-just a little longer."

His legs tightened, his arms tightened, his body tightened around Albert's length and Jet took the opportunity he had to turn his head and latch his mouth onto the soft skin just below Albert's jaw. His touches, his hold, his attention a hundred percent dedicated to Albert, it all held Jet's passion and how much he desperately needed his German.

Through enormous effort, Albert slows his pace. It's not frenzied any longer, and remains deep. He pulls out slowly, not far, and presses back in with the same speed, keeping Jet as filled as he can, and as close as he can too. His heart - it beats, now, instead of a motor - beats against Jet's chest, his fingers lost in copper strands but palm cradling the back of the younger man's neck gently.

It's a change from what they were doing before, all limbs and passion and roughness. This is soft and loving, though no less passionate. If anything, it's more. It's what Albert has always wanted to show Jet, what he's able to show him as he gets older in shades, but that this Jet had never experienced due to fear, doubt, or whatever other hangups they'd both had at the time.

He'll show him now.

"Let me cum inside you, Jet." Albert murmurs into his partner's ear, holding him ever closer and working in him with a deep and steady pace. "Let me fill you up as we cum together."

Jet shudders with the words and a low moan he tries to bury in Albert's shoulder slips out of his mouth. He'd never heard anything so wonderful in his life.

"Yes, do it...shit...Albert"

His partner's name comes out torn between a moan and a cry as spasms from pleasure that make his knees go weak rake through him. He wants that so badly, to feel Albert cum in him as he cums himself and makes a mess of them both.

Even with the change in pace, he's still approaching that edge faster than he'd like and there's just nothing he can do but hold on tighter and clench in on Albert's length to retaliate and drag the older man over the ledge with him.

Edited 2014-10-21 04:34 (UTC)

The younger man's fingers dig into his back and all that does is spur him on, taking his previously slow pace down even further until he's barely moving, just grinding deep inside the redhead and shuddering as he can feel the walls clench around him. Jet's so close and in turn he drives Albert to the edge.

The German bares down on Jet, slipping back to pound into his lover, wanting so desperately to hear those pleasured cries of helpless ecstasy as he pulls Jet down under the waves of pleasure with him. He can't hold back any longer; one more desperate thrust and he's through, stars sparking behind his eyelids and his legs shuddering until he locks his knees. He pulses inside Jet, driven just a bit out by the force of his orgasem but he doesn't let it push him away from the more lithe form captured in his arms. He won't let anything push them apart.

Albert's moving even slower and it grants them a few seconds more, Jet's breathing hopelessly ragged. It's those hard final thrusts that have Jet loudly crying out into the kitchen and clenching hard around his partner. Albert came hard inside him and Jet moaned low into the German's shoulder, his own orgasm hitting him hard and leaving them both a tangled mass of heavy breathing, sweat and pounding heart beats. That was a feeling he'd barely noticed before: Albert's beating heart.

Shakily, quietly, he clenched his hand and brought it to Albert's chest to rest over that heartbeat. With a content sigh, his head fell back to rest on the counter and his eyes slipped shut peacefully.

Catching his breath, Albert looks down at Jet and can't help but smile, bringing his larger hand to press lightly over Jet's narrower palm and long fingers on his chest. He supposes that natural thump is new for him coming from Albert. With a moment's thought, the German leans over to place a kiss on Jet's cheek and whisper gently in his ear. "It seems I tired you out, hm?"

And to think they say youth has more stamina.

Amused, Albert pulls away for only half a moment to straighten himself out, and then his raising Jet from the counter against his chest, lifting him to head upstairs where they can rest beside each other and he can hold Jet for as long as this lasts. He'd forgotten - he's not sure how, but he had - just how vulnerable Jet was at this age, how much he wanted to protect and shield him from the world that had already been so cruel.

He's indulged this much, he may as well indulge all the way and curl around his partner protectively.

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Timeshift

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