002 | Jet Link (
fallenstar) wrote in
makinglies2013-11-03 05:27 pm
Entry tags:
Like a cat rubbing his head against your book--
There was no one else home. He'd spent five minutes making sure, even though he already knew there were only two people left in the house for the night. Chang and GB were at Chang's resturaunt, Joe, Frannie, Ivan and the Doctor were all off to Kouzomi's for the weekend and Pyunma and Geronimo were out of the country and not due back for a few days. Which just left Jet and a certain silver-haired German cyborg to hold down the fort.
Which was why this was perfect.
Sure, there was a chance Frannie or Joe or really even any of the others could walk through the front door unexpectedly for one reason or another, but that just made his idea seem a little more fun; the risk of being caught was exciting. Hell, even if they were just in one of their rooms, it wouldn't be nearly as risky, but he was headed for the den where he knew the older cyborg was sitting in comfortable silence, reading one of his stuffy and boring books.
Jet had every intention of making things a little less quiet and boring for his partner.
He didn't bother sneaking into the room or anything, there wasn't anything suspicious about him going in there. In fact, it was likely nothing would seem amiss until the lanky teen stepped up to Abert's chair, stuck his book mark between whatever pages he had open, and plucked the book from the cyborg's grip. The book found itself on the side table next to the chair Albert was in (as opposed to the floor, which Jet had considered, but thought better of) as the American wedged a knee in on either side of Albert's thighs, reached up to pull down that black turtleneck a bit and attached his lips to Albert's neck.
He had plans, and they didn't include being shy about what he wanted.
Which was why this was perfect.
Sure, there was a chance Frannie or Joe or really even any of the others could walk through the front door unexpectedly for one reason or another, but that just made his idea seem a little more fun; the risk of being caught was exciting. Hell, even if they were just in one of their rooms, it wouldn't be nearly as risky, but he was headed for the den where he knew the older cyborg was sitting in comfortable silence, reading one of his stuffy and boring books.
Jet had every intention of making things a little less quiet and boring for his partner.
He didn't bother sneaking into the room or anything, there wasn't anything suspicious about him going in there. In fact, it was likely nothing would seem amiss until the lanky teen stepped up to Abert's chair, stuck his book mark between whatever pages he had open, and plucked the book from the cyborg's grip. The book found itself on the side table next to the chair Albert was in (as opposed to the floor, which Jet had considered, but thought better of) as the American wedged a knee in on either side of Albert's thighs, reached up to pull down that black turtleneck a bit and attached his lips to Albert's neck.
He had plans, and they didn't include being shy about what he wanted.

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With his hands, the teen also moved down, slipping off the chair to kneel between the German's legs in front of it instead. Jet's fingers played a bit with what he knew to be honest flesh along Albert's waist before moving on with their mission. He made quick work of the fastening for the older man's pants and slipped his hand beneath the fabric to touch and stroke and feel before freeing him from the cloth that was now just in the way. With an uncharacteristic slowness, Jet ran his tongue up along the sensitive skin.
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And god does he touch it. He tastes it, and it sends Albert's face into heretofore undiscovered shades of red as he can't stop the pleasured, needy moan that rips itself from his throat, fingers digging into the arms of the chair he's trapped in under the weight of Jet's lust.
Or possibly his own.
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His free hand braced himself against Albert's thigh while the other hand held the German as Jet took him fully into his mouth.
He contemplated slowing down at this point, letting it linger and the idea is mirrored in his actions as his tongue makes gentle sweeping motions around Albert's cock. But that wasn't quite what he was going for with this. Yeah, there was a thrill of 'what if we get caught out here in the open?' but that didn't mean he actually wanted it to happen. He was going to make this fast and passionate and make it difficult for them both to leave the chair when it was all over.
He sucked hard and the motions his tongue were making were far from gentle as he picked up the pace a bit, his hand petting at the skin under it.
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The other hand goes seeking, shakily brushing back the bangs from Jet's face, though perhaps more roughly than he intends. Or not, as he grabs a handful of that thick red hair and simply holds it taut. He doesn't pull, perfectly careful not to hurt in the slightest, but there's a pressure in the way he holds the other cyborg's locks from his forehead that seems barely contained, Albert watching with his face and neck flushed but white eyes still trained directly on exactly what Jet is doing with his tongue.
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He alternated between sucking and bobbing his head, his tongue swirling and lapping at Albert randomly in an attempt to get him as worked up as possible. He removed the hand that had been holding the man and took him as far into his mouth as he could, sucking hard but only once this time, before pulling back completely.
His hands were off the his partner's body as where the American's lips and he was standing, almost as if he was about ready to just leave what he'd started behind.
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And then... nothing. Jet's hair isn't even in his hand anymore (when had he let go?) and he's standing and turning and-
"Jet..." It was meant to be a command, or even just a frustrated note but it comes out plaintive and trembling, pleading, and he even leans forward with his hand outstretched, trying to snag Jet's wrist in quivering desperation.
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As he broke away from the kiss, he pulled his wrist away so he could work on removing his clothes. "I'm not goin' anywhere, don't worry. I'm not that mean. Although, if your hands move from those armrests, I am gonna leave you here."
No he wouldn't. But that didn't mean he wouldn't threaten it.
True to his word, he was back on the older man's lap as soon as he had stripped down. He pressed in as closely as possible , folding himself over Albert and pressed a needy tounge-filled kiss on the German as he lowered himself and took the man into him.
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He kisses back again as Jet invades his mouth with tongue and need, inhaling sharply through his nose as he's slowly taken into that wet heat, fingers clawing into the arm rests and trembling as every nerve stands at complete attention, ready to take orders from the lanky naked American that's so generously bestowed himself on the German. It's difficult without his hands, but Albert's lips attempt to travel, ravishing kisses from chin and jaw to neck and shoulders, breathing in short gasps all the while.
"Nngg.. Jet..." A kiss, another, Albert's breath soft in the crook of Jet's shoulder. "Let me touch you."
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His hands ran down to Albert's shoulders and with a shaky breath, he slowly began to move, raising himself up and off Albert almost completely before sliding back down. He continued the long, slow, movements a few more times, waiting for the discomfort to pass. It does quickly enough and then he nods, breathing already becoming erratic against the side of Albert's face. "Now you can."
Even as he's saying it, he's picking up the pace and making the movements shorter but harder and faster than before.
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The permission prompts a relieved sigh as Albert immediately pulls Jet in a tight embrace, arms still moving with the younger man's body as he wants but pulling him close to cradle his head and allow himself to indulge in kiss after kiss everywhere he can reach as well as clutch and paw and generally lavish affection and attention that grows more frenzied by the minute. His breath comes in desperate ragged gasps, so close. So close.
"Jet, I-I'm going to-..." He cuts himself off with a moan muffled right into Jet's shoulder, yet another shudder coursing through his frame.
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He presses a kiss to Albert's neck as his arms wrap around broad shoulders and he continues to ride the other man hard. "Good. D-don't hold back."
He'd worked Albert up too much to make it last long enough for them both to reach that peak, but he continued taking Albert in as deeply as possible while one of his hands came down between them to wrap around himself and begin pumping.
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He's so very close to that peak but he starts to control the rhythm to stave off that last hurdle, wanting to wait for Jet. He's just not certain how long he can manage with the man riding him so hard that it drives Albert to distraction. Every twist and shiver from Jet is one step closer to the edge.]
Jet-!
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His free hand slipped up the German's back and took Albert's chin, tilting his chin up so Jet could attack the older man's lips with his own. He took Albert's bottom lip between his teeth a moment, nipped at it lightly before sucking on it a moment and breaking away to make a breathy moan in the form of Albert's name against his lips. It almost became a chant as he said it twice more and then cut himself off by delving his tongue into his partner's mouth.
Almost, almost. His hand curled tightly into soft hair as he felt himself tightening, getting closer.
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He leans in, bending Jet back just a bit to pursue those soft lips, gorge himself on tender kisses. Hands trail from back to waist to butt and grab, sinking into what little fat Jet has on his body, holding him down in Albert's lap while the German thrusts upward once, twice, and again, friction building as Jet tenses. He breathes the prayer of Jet's name again against those perfect lips, desperate and wanting, trembling with the blessed agony of holding himself back just so they can reach fruition in tandem.
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His hand tightened further in Albert's hair, but then let go and moved to grip his shoulder just as tightly out of concern of hurting him.
"Al...I'm not-not gonna last."
His breathing was ragged as his moans got louder until a cry loud enough to make him glad no one was home was ripped from him and he finished, body tightening as his back arched in-ward, pushing him closer to the German's chest. That one shaky arm around the older man's shoulders clung on as though Albert were the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own ecstasy.
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Its a hungry growl against Jet's mouth. He swallows that cry in a crushing kiss as Jet shudders in the throes, nearly whimpering himself as he finally allows himself that same release, pulsing and twitching inside Jet as they tumble over that edge together. He holds Jet close, arms wrapped tightly around him in a desperately possessive coil. As they come down, shivering and breathless, he lowers his head to Jet's chest, planting a kiss on the light skin there, and another to join it, both over the younger man's heart.
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He could feel the few muscles left in his thighs were less than pleased at the prolonged tension and his abdomen was none too pleased either, but Jet was so he didn't really care.
He smiled "Hope you don't mind the interruption." More light kisses to silver hair, ears, anything he could reach. They should probably clean themselves up or something...or at least move this to one of their bedrooms before anyone came home...but he didn't really want to move just yet. They could at least wait till they caught their breath.
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"I suppose I can forgive you." He leans up again, stealing another kiss. This one is simple and appreciative
and sadly cut short by the sounds of the front door swinging open and the bickering of Chang and GB. Albert completely freezes, eyes wide in abject terror.
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Jet grabbed Albert's wrist and pressed the switch in his back molar, making everything else seem to slow around them. Hand still tightly clamped around the German's wrist, the teen winced as Albert slid out of him as he got up off his lap. Jet tugged, indicating they needed to get going before grabbing his pile of clothes from the floor.
He gave Albert all of two seconds to get up and get his pants up before he started pulling them towards the stairs to make their escape. He didn't stop or let go until well after they were both in Jet's room (the closer of the two) and the door was shut.
"Jesus."
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"I thought they were staying late at the restaurant!" he hisses, still paranoid that their teammates heard or saw something. He does up his pants and buckles his belt with fumbling fingers. What would they do if it got out? Would their comrades ever look at them the same? Would they be judged? Not just for the predilections, but for the age between them, for Jet being so young and brash and Albert being so... not?
Oh God it probably smells like us down there... Albert brings his hands to his face, utterly embarrassed and blushing not just on his face but his neck and across the tops of his ears too.
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The lanky teen closed the distance between himself and the shorter man and wound his arms around Albert, pressing a kiss to the fingers covering his partner's face. He liked it when Albert blushed, not that he'd ever admit it, especially when he knew his own face was far from devoid of color, but it made it easier to focus on Albert's embarrassment rather than his own.
"Hey...it'll be okay. Even if they figure anything out, they're not likely to go running their mouths." GB might like to tease, but he was pretty good about privacy.
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Still, they should trust that their companions wouldn't be so cruel as to alienate them to the rest of the group. Truthfully, they all wonder if Chang and GB may be in a relationship of that nature as well considering the time they spend together, but it's just not something you ask!
Albert lets a tense breath go and lowers his hand, accepting Jet's embrace and placing a kiss of his own on the teen's nose. "You're right."
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"Now that you're here, maybe you should hang around a little longer..."
He stepped away completely, his hand going for Albert's to encourage him further into the room as he looked back from under that fringe of hair of his. He still couldn't decide between shower or bed, he just knew he didn't want to be done with the German before him.
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It makes his face even pinker that even after the incredibly intense tryst in the den, Jet still wants to continue. Perhaps not in the same way, but somehow this is even more intimate. Jet's look can only be described as 'come hither'. Or maybe he's imagining it. Either way it's not unwelcome in the slightest.
He locks the door behind him and pads his way into the room proper to join his partner.
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"Well, maybe not the whole show again, I don't want one of us to get too loud or anything...I don't know, I just don't see why you can't stay here a little longer." 'With me. I don't want you to go just yet' was the hidden message behind his words, a sentiment he could only manage to infer and not outright say.
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It's that little shard of doubt that keeps him from following through on that, but he does at the least decide to stay, bending to plant a kiss on the seated cyborg's forehead. "I suppose I can stay."
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The kiss was lingering and affectionate but ultimately chaste for the moment. He didn't know how Albert seemed to be able to read him so well, but while there were times that he found it aggravating, there were times like now when he appreciated it more than he knew he could say.
There were times when he wished he could say the things he knew normal people said to people they liked a lot, any of them, just something that would indicate how much Albert's company, his attention and affection, meant to the American. But all he could do was hope it came through in the way he kissed and touched the other man.
If he knew how much of it was clearly written on his face, he probably wouldn't worry as much.
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Albert finds himself gently tracing fingertips over anything he can reach, a little disappointed those pants are now hiding the legs he enjoys so much, but the picture of the other cyborg above him is still more than pleasant. Jet as the body of a dancer, lithe and smooth with a natural grace in the way he moves when he's not thinking of it. It's easy for Albert to tell when the red-head is self conscious; that grace goes into hiding and he seems to forget how to handle his limbs, becoming endearingly clumsy.
He loves that, just as he loves when Jet's not aware of how smooth his movements are when he bends to get something from a low cabinet or how fluidly he stretches to reach for something high up, balancing on one foot with the other out slightly to balance. It's almost like Francoise when she dances, the same awareness of form.
He loves too the way that Jet looks at him in moments like these, when it's clear that he appreciates Albert's mere presence, let alone the fact that they share touches and kisses and more. That undercurrent of awe to each impulsive motion when it comes to Albert, that split second after each act of disbelief that the silver-haired cyborg would allow him this level of closeness when he's so standoffish most of the time.
But it's because Jet had the care to work through it that Albert let him in. It's because, for all Jet can be pushy, Albert never felt judged for anything Jet discovered.
He can't say those words either, but he feels them. He feels them from Jet's light touches and soft kisses and every inch of his face. He feels them in his own finger's travels, in how he's memorized each curve and dip, and in every kiss returned, Albert tells him so.
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If he thought about it too much, it would occur to him how strange it was to be like this, this relaxed and at-ease. To feel this safe with someone else. He'd never thought something like this could happen to someone like him, that he'd find someone he trusted had his back enough to fall asleep on him.
Jet Link: leader of one of the toughest gangs in the bronx, a trash-talking street thug with a punch to back it up: completely head over heels for an older German geeky guy and drawing patterns on said guy's shirt like some starry-eyed chick. It was enough to make him chuckle into that very same shirt material.
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He pulls the blanket around them, up to Jet's shoulders, just in case.
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"Nah, I'm fine. Pretty comfortable, as a matter of fact. You're not that cold, you know."
He was quiet a moment, thinking and just listening to the whirring that was Albert's heart. A thought ran through his head that made him blush and shift so he could reach the German's lips with his own. This kiss was different than the others he 'd been giving, this one was deep but slow, uncharacteristically careful but definitely full if That unnamed emotion that always flared up around the older man.
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But then the words caught up with him and his face burned brightly as he looked down to the German's chin. "Man you can't just lay something that sappy on someone out of the blue...jeeze." He just couldn't fathom how easily sweet and affectionate things like that came from the older man's mouth like they were remarks on the weather.
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He leans up a bit to plant a soft kiss on Jet's nose, all he can reach from this angle.
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He didn't break the kiss until his breathing was a little more strained and then he only pulled away so that he could talk, his lips still brushing Albert's kiss-bruised ones. "The coast'll probably be clear in a little bit, those two always sleep like rocks." Although, if he were honest, he'd rather it if Albert just stayed in Jet's bed till morning.
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Jet's not the only one who'd rather he stay. Frankly, he's comfortable with Jet's weight atop him, their hushed voices so as not to be overheard, the heat of Jet's kisses visited upon him with wild abandon. He likes this mood of his partner's, he's loathe to leave.
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It was actually highly likely, he wasn't exceptionally tired right this moment except for their strenuous recent activities, but if he got comfortable enough it wasn't that hard for him to doze off.
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He adjusts the blanket around them, still threading his fingers through that coppery hair, lost in watching the tiny ways that Jet moves, the way his body rises and falls by degrees with his breathing, the perfectly rhythmic beating of his heart, controlled by the regulator, and how it plays a soft overtone to the cycled whirring of his own.
He could get used to this.