makinglies | 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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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.

Timeshift

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