makinglies | Like a cat rubbing his head against your book--

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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.

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Their embrace is undulating movement and tongue and teeth and touch. He sucks on Jet's tongue when its offered, breathes in those base moans of his name, drinks the tug of those fingers curled in his hair. That lithe body, his back curving in a subtle S for Albert's hands to trace, metal on quivering skin.

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.

He meets him kiss for kiss, shivering and gasping under those cool hands and as they grab him and hold him down as Albert continues to move. He was wrong, there was no way he was going to last.

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.

"Good."

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.

His hand moves from shoulder to hair once more, this time long fingers running through the strands instead of gripping them tightly. He presses a light kiss to Albert's head as a light pink shaded his cheeks from the attention.

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.

He doesn't often indulge, but with Jet so close and warm and the glow of the act still strong he forgets to track the time. Cool fingers and palms smooth where they'd clutched before, skating lightly over naked skin as Albert pulls back just a little so he can see Jet, really appreciate the man in his lap and all the qualities that make him up. A smile breaks across his face, flush still on his cheeks and hair hanging a little damp from light sweat in his eyes.

"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.

Jet kisses back, smiling into it. But then he hears the tell-tale sign of their friends coming home and his eyes go wide as he freezes for just a second; they hadn't moved, their position was beyond compromising.

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."

They're just in time, as all the other two cyborgs hear is the brief whine of the accelerator as Jet pulls Albert up the stairs in a flash. The German stands there in his disheveled state, belt still unbuckled and pants dangerously close to falling off his hips.

"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.

Jet slipped his clothes back on his lower half but threw his shirt into some corner of the room as Albert fretted. There wasn't anything they could do about it now, either they'd notice or they wouldn't, they'd just have to hope they were distracted enough not to.

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.

"I hope not," though he has his doubts. Chang may be more pragmatic, but GB does like his gossip and drama.

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."

He gave a look that said 'well of course I'm right' and pulled away a little bit. He refused to think about the possibility if them being found out, choosing instead to focus on what he'd been thinking about before.

"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.

He can't help but be surprised, letting Jet take his hand and tug him closer. "After that, you're still wanting more?"

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.

Jet decides on the bed since the shower sounds like it's too much work and the chance of them being discovered would be higher anyway, so he pulls them there and sits on the edge, his hands trailing down to the backs of Albert's upper thighs and resting there even as he hid his eyes in his hair in an attempt to cover up the blush tinging his cheeks.

"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.

The message isn't terribly well hidden. Albert reaches with his left hand and brushes Jet's bangs from his face, looking fondly into those brandy eyes. True, he's still fairly mortified, but Jet being so cute makes up for it and he'd rather stick around, truth be told. It's times like these he wonders if it would really be so bad if the others found out. They're all family, after all. They wouldn't condemn them... right?

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."

"Good." The teen smiled and scooted back to pull Albert down to the bed with him. There was very little warning before Jet had his hands on Albert's shoulders and pushed him back onto the bedspread, the teen situating himself over the older man so he could press their lips together.

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.

He nearly squawks at being pushed again when really all he'd wanted was to cuddle and perhaps take a nap, but the kiss he can't complain about. It's different than before; while what they'd done in the den had contained heat akin to fire, passion and want, this is warm and inviting instead of consuming.

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.

Edited 2013-11-13 23:27 (UTC)

Jet threaded his fingers together over Albert's chest, already comfortable enough to fall asleep on the other cyborg. He pressed lazy kisses from Albert's lips to his cheeks and jaw before tucking his head under the German's chin, one hand leaving it's place of rest to run lightly over Albert's left shoulder and arm.

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.

"What, uncomfortable?" Albert gives a small chuckle of his own. He can't imagine laying on him like that being at all pleasant. He may have a shirt on, but the body underneath is still hard, cold, and blocky metal. Luckily Albert seems to be in a mood to take that in stride today. "I can't imagine laying like that is pleasant. Aren't you cold?"

He pulls the blanket around them, up to Jet's shoulders, just in case.

His hand stops it's movements, suddenly a bit more self- conscious of his actions. Instead, it laced under and around Albert's shoulder like the older cyborg questioning Jet's comfort suddenly meant he was going to move.

"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.

Jet may not have a name for it, but Albert certainly does. It's love, pure and simple, and the German returns it just as slowly and with as much care. He smiles gently, the sort of smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes but still makes him look younger somehow. "Not with you here, I'm not."

That smile of Albert's makes Jet stare at him absently for a moment, just appreciating how one shift in expression can make the other man seem more like the age he should be or ten years younger just depending; no one else's face he'd ever seen did that.

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.

Jet's belated and slightly spaztic reply pulls a laugh from Albert which he tries to stifle at the same time as he attempts to shush Jet. "Calm down, they'll hear you."

He leans up a bit to plant a soft kiss on Jet's nose, all he can reach from this angle.

He 'humphed' his indignation but quieted down. In retaliation for the deep blush that was only now starting to fade, he assaulted Albert's lips with his own in a more passionate kiss than before, still affectionate, but mixed with a bit of bite and fire.

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.

"Hmm, I don't know," Albert worries at his bottom lip, almost as if he can still taste Jet's kiss there and he's savoring it. "Maybe I should keep hiding for now, to be safe."

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.

Jet smirked and laid his head down again, just resting comfortably on the other man with his arms wrapping around the broader frame as best he could. "Yeah, maybe you should. Although...I might fall asleep on you, you know."

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.

He chuckles again, bringing his left hand up to run through Jet's hair. He's always amazed at how soft it is, despite the style. Like feathers. "I don't see how, but I won't stop you."

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.

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Like a cat rubbing his head against your book--

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