makinglies | Til the siren come calling

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Til the siren come calling

"We appreciate your hard work. We have one last mission for you."

The words rang through his mind and made him burn with anger and betrayal. He tried to make his body move, to force it to get up and fight back, to stop the Lazarus from doing whatever it was about to do as it approached, but he couldn't move except to squirm and flinch.

The zombie cyborg knelt down beside him and put a hand on his head, tilting it back to expose his neck as something bit into the human skin there. He watched as Void left the room, unconcerned with what was going on behind him and Jet's thoughts slowly slipped away. Then there was something else in his head. A voice was whispering to him, a familiar voice..someone he could trust; there was nothing but that voice and it's reminder how there was someone who betrayed him...no, multiple someones, people he'd trusted and thought wanted him around but were just using him, he needed to get back at them.

Istanbul. That was where they were.

'Go! Go! Traitors don't deserve to live anyway.' It whispered and he listened. His jets burned hot as they propelled him into the sky, indiscriminate of the building around him, it didn't matter, there was no time to waste.

He flew as fast as he could for the Gilmore Foundation.

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"Only five minutes? Well, if you're in the mood for quick and dirty..."

The kiss he takes from Jet is so heated it's as if he's literally trying to steal the younger man's breath away. He keeps Jet there bodily, his arms on either side of his partner with forearms braced against the mattress, sheets and blanket filtering the bright morning light into soft shadows.

Albert moves down a little, kissing at Jet's jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Kisses turn to nibbles and finally a sharp and hard suck at the curve where neck meets shoulder, something that will definitely leave a mark. He presses his thumb over the angry red welt that greets his eyes when he moves his head away enough to admire his handiwork. "Now the world will know you're mine."

He shifts up again to press another kiss to Jet's lips, encompassing like before but somehow with a softer quality, the gentle affection he'd been afraid to show the night before. Words whisper as he breaks the kiss but nothing else, staying in close contact and reveling at the warmth of Jet's skin. "I missed you."

Albert doesn't even need two minutes to have Jet panting lightly and getting that feeling of electricity running along his skin. The kiss pulls his breath from him and a gasp as Albert marks him. It's the verbal claim that has the color sticking to his cheeks and shiver shooting down his spine as a current spreads from the German's finger through the blond.

But then Albert demonstrates one of Jet's favorite things about him: how he can be stable and reliable while also having just enough spontaneity to keep Jet on his toes. At least for him. He was generally pretty good at guessing the older cyborg's thought process but there were times when he didn't follow and it made the things Albert said seem out of left field.

But it made him smile.

His hands came up to cup Albert's cheeks, all the love and care he had for the older man there in his face. "I missed you too. But...now I have you...and you have me. For as long as you'll keep me." He leaned up for another kiss, this time only breaking away to move his lips, though not far enough to stop them from still brushing Albert's. "I guess you've earned more than five minutes."

"I'll always keep you." He'd never said that before, such a concrete expression of intent. 'Always' was such a definite thing and when they'd been running from Black Ghost, when Jet had died the first time, it was an unspoken line between them that 'always' might not really be always and it would just hurt too much if they tried at it and failed. But it had hurt anyway, and here they are again with a second chance, a third chance, and there's no way in hell Albert's going to waste it.

He kisses back, then turns his head to kiss Jet's palm, then nibbles gently at his fingers. "Perhaps I should mark you for each year I intend to keep you." He sucks at the tip of Jet's index finger, raising an eyebrow as he draws it slowly across his tongue before speaking again.

"I'm not sure there's enough of you for me to cover with that much." But that doesn't mean he won't try.

Albert saying he'd always keep Jet so plainly took his words for a moment and Albert sucking on his fingers didn't help. He'd meant what he said but he hadn't expected so concrete a word like 'always.' He was hardly complaining.

He managed a playful smirk. "I don't think there is. Besides, I have a better idea for where your lips should be."

Jet leaned up to capture his partner's lips with his own, his tongue diving into the other's mouth as one hand found the nape of Albert's neck and the other planted itself on the older man's hip. He took advantage of the distraction to let his thigh slip between Albert's legs and gently begin to rub up against him.

A soft groan escapes Albert into Jet's mouth, his hips rolling against Jet's leg in a wanton helpless motion. One strong arm slides around the blonde's waist and pulls their bodies together as if the German can't stand for there to be even air between them. He breathes sharply through his nose, another moan of drowning want rattles through Albert, rolling across both their tongues as he struggles to keep himself upright with the other arm.

His hand tightens on Albert's hip and his lips broke off the kiss to his partner's lips to latch them onto the sensitive skin under Albert's ear instead.

Even just the limited contact he was receiving from being pressed up against Albert's chest has Jet hard and wanting and it wasn't difficult to see the German was the same way.

His tongue traced from the patch of skin up to his partner's ear where he placed his lips so he could ghost his words past it. "I want you. Don't hold back."

Hearing such a bold and plain statement from Jet has always pushed Albert eagerly onward and this morning is no different. With a soft breath of acknowledgement, Albert pulls away just enough to hook Jet's legs around his waist then dive back in to recapture those lips, pressing against Jet hard and roughly though not pushing in just yet. He loves that moment of need he can have Jet experience, the second that he controls everything in the blond's world and can make him squirm and demand or plead as the mood takes him.

And then the moment's passed and he takes pity, pressing into Jet slowly both to allow his partner the time to adjust and so he can watch every rapturous expression that passes across that handsome face of his.

Gott has he missed this.

There's a pleased sigh mingled with heady anticipation that escapes the blond, turning into a grunt of need when Albert presses in against him. But then the older man is pressing into him and nothing else exists for a moment but the feeling of Albert filling him.

Jet's gasp turned into a loud moan and his legs curled in around his partner's hips to try and pull him closer while long arms reached up to touch and stroke and grab any part of Albert he could reach; he just needed the contact.

Just as he's buried in Jet to the hilt, Albert's enveloped overall by the taller man's arms and legs, pleased at how he scrabbles for purchase and digs fingers against metal to finally find flesh. The silver haired cyborg's lips find Jet's neck, brushing and kissing with needy pressure as Albert begins to move, slow at first as if he's reticent to leave even by centimeters, then darts back in to bury himself once more.

He loves the feel of it, of long fingers skating over his seams and the rise and fall of that lithe body moving against him, willing him to keep going, keep touching, and he provides, wrapping one arm tightly at the small of Jet's back and cradling his head with the other. It's deceptively gentle compared to the borderline predatory movements with which he'd initially captured Jet's attention this morning.

He likes it when Albert's more forceful and takes Jet hard, leaving him pleasantly sore and trembling, but he also likes it when Albert holds him close and goes slower as though to prolong it. The former makes him feel desired and provides him with one of his favorite things--Albert losing just a bit of that characteristic control. The Latter makes him feel like something so important to the other man that Albert feels the need to be gentle. It's impossible to determine which he enjoys more.

But this is definitely gentle and slow and just as he's wrapped himself around the older man, he can feel Albert curled in around him and it's the greatest sensation he can imagine.

With each small thrust into him, Jet lifts his hips a bit to try and meet it and pull Albert in as deeply as possible. One hand pressed firmly to his partner's back, Jet's other hand strayed up to tug lightly at silver hair as his face tilted back in ecstasy, lips lightly parted to allow for his heavier breaths.

Last night had been about offering himself anew to Jet, a show that he trusts the blond not to stray again, not to repeat the mistakes that had so often been their norm. Now, Albert shows Jet what he wants, that the only thing he's ever wanted is simply Jet himself, imperfect though he is but perfectly fit against Albert, manufactured as a set.

In a sense, he supposes they were, and there's a morbid sense of amusement at that fact but he's not about to ruin the mood to share it. Instead, Albert's lips latch onto Jet's throat, planting hungry kisses all up and down the slightly salty flesh as he move his hips in a slow and steady rhythm, wanting to prolong this feeling for as long as he can and hear Jet moan besides.

Albert's lips on his throat makes his breath catch there and Jet arched more into the older man, the hand in silver hair tightening a bit.

"Albert..." He was torn, he couldn't decide through his pleasure-addled mind which he wanted more: for Albert to keep doing what he was doing and prolong the sensation, or for his partner to take him harder, faster, anything to get that stronger sensation he knew would overwhelm them both. He couldn't decide, all he knew was that he needed this man like he needed air.

"D-don't stop--more-!"

He utters a grunt in return, pulling out a little further with each thrust to go a little harder, a little deeper. More friction to drive them both towards fulfillment.

The hand at the back of Jet's neck remains in gentle cradling but the other slides across Jet's back and hip, moving instead between them and to the blond's parted lips. It's his right hand, the gun hand, the one that Albert may hate but Jet seems to have always had some strange fascination with, one that Albert hasn't missed sometimes gets the taller man going. So he gives in this morning, feeding that strange predilection by brushing the hollow ends of his fingers over soft lips, urging Jet to wet them with his tongue.

The harder thrusts have him gasping harder and moaning louder and his hands fall away to grip the poor sheets so tight he'd be concerned he would rip them, were his mind not dedicated to the sensations Albert was causing.

He was so lost in their movements that he didn't notice where his partner's hand had gone until he felt cool metal on his lips. His tongue darted out on instinct and ran along the digits thoroughly, even tracing the edge of the barrels in his partner's fingertips. As extra, he shifted and took the fingers fully into his mouth with small hum of a moan, half for a thrust that hit at particularly pleasing angle and half just to get a response from the older man.

He knew Albert's tendency to keep his right hand's actions limited, so he didn't know why the German was making an exception, but Jet was pleased with it and he intended to show that.

That moan humming along his fingers and the sight of Jet eagerly running his tongue along the sides of each digit raise a deep flush to Albert's face at the physical evidence for what Jet's always said; he doesn't care that much of Albert can be used to kill, to him they're just parts of a whole he cares for. And apparently finds unfathomably attractive despite the cold metal and vague smell of explosive that Albert always feels is hanging around him, whether that's actually the case or not.

His thrusting eases just a bit, attention turned more to his fingers in Jet's mouth and being as careful as he can be. He presses his middle and index fingers against Jet's tongue lightly as he withdraws them, pulling it out just enough that he can recapture it with his own lips, bending over and sliding his slick hand between them to take hold of Jet's cock as he twines his tongue with the blond's. It's not unusual for Jet to get worked up enough to cum just from being penetrated but Albert wants this to be completely overwhelming for his partner.

Tongue, hand, and hips all work at different rhythms, trying to unravel Jet completely and leave him a panting, moaning mess in the older man's arms.

He was tempted to ask about Albert's intentions since, usually, the only time Jet sucked on his fingers was when the German was going to use them to prepare him. He got his answer soon enough when suddenly everything was a storm of sensations and he couldn't pick just one to concentrate on.

The thrusts into him working differently then the pace of that metal hand drives him wild and his hips buck involuntarily.

His hands move again, this time one fisting in silver hair tightly while the other scrambled along and clutched at the curve of his partner's ass. An overwhelmed and needy whimper escaped the blond, the kiss intensifying and becoming just as needy as the man delivering it.

The harried movements of Jet against him, grabbing at him to make sure he stays close, tugging at his hair, pull a grunt from the German into Jet's mouth and a shudder that crawls up his spine. If he'd been worried about going too hard or too fast or just having it all be too much he's not any longer.

He knows how Jet acts when he wants something desperately and completely. That much, at least, hadn't changed.

And he's happy to provide, driving into Jet with such powerful thrusts that the bed creaks under them and he's forced to draw back gasping from the kiss lest he knock their teeth together until they rattle. He'd rather hear Jet make all those wonderful noises instead.

The hand not occupied with sliding hungrily up and down Jet's entire length, wet and warming from the friction and Jet's own body heat despite the metallic surface, locks fingers on the blond's hip to hold him still while Albert pushes as hard as he dares into his partner and stays there for just a moment, catching his breath long enough to let his tremors recede so he can keep Jet here for longer. He's close himself, so very close for the pace they'd set, but he refuses to finish alone despite that being a monumental task. Albert's never been all that good at holding back once they reach a certain point.

Even before his mouth is freed, there's moans and groans that escape Jet and once Albert breaks the kiss, there's nothing stopping them from pouring out into the room. It's too much and perfect all at once and the blond feels like he just might lose his mind from it and he can't find it in him to care.

Albert shoves himself hard and deep into Jet and a sharp cry escapes the younger man. It was a little on the rougher side but he found he liked it and wouldn't actually mind if Albert did it again. In fact, he really wanted Albert to do it again.

"Al...I need...do that again. I need you..."

He was already so close, he had little doubt he'd come undone if only Albert plowed into him like that again.

Every noise from Jet is an intoxicant and Albert's ears drink them down greedily, especially the breathless demand for more. He isn't just wanted, he's needed. He's necessary or they'd be a diminished whole, and that thought makes his chest squeeze and flutter and he pulls out almost completely so as to fulfill said request.

Only he takes his hand and holds Jet's cock tightly as he shoves his weight into Jet again, his metal fingers forming a ring around the base to prevent him from finishing yet, to keep Jet pliant and wanting because there's still a vindictive streak in Albert yet and he means to satisfy it before letting this end.

He shivers as Albert pulls back and cries out loudly, back arching a bit, when the German shoves back in. Only then does he notice the tightness around him and how the pressure built up in him that should have been released in a mind-numbing orgasm remained.

small whimper of need he would never admit to uttering escaped him as he lay gasping. A frustrated glare was directed at the older man as soon as Jet was able and when he finally found his voice, it was a near growl tinted by an undercurrent of desperation. "Albert...please."

"You should hate me for how much I love to hear you beg." Albert's lips latch onto Jet's neck, his weight pushing forward and grinding into his lover so deeply he could swear he's reached the point where he can go no further. He bites gently, running the edges of his teeth against the marks he'd left the night before, leaving others to join them. Finally, when he can feel Jet squirming against him, clutching at him with the muscles inside, the German moves his hand away and resumes the heavy, driving pace of before, panting desperately and trembling sooner than he expected.

"Jet, jetzt, I can't.." He scrambles for breath, his hips seeming to take a mind of their own in their pounding and he digs bruises into the American's lighter flesh for how hard he's trying to hold himself back so they can come together.

"Ah-!! aah--Albert!" From the moment he could feel the German pressing in as deeply as Jet's body could even go, the bites along his neck and then the continued pounding of his partner's body into his, every inch of Jet is blinding pleasure and white and he's hardly aware of the sounds he makes or the way his hands find new purchase on the German and leave angry crescent marks in whatever real or fake skin they find under them.

He's going to come and the only thought he can vaguely string together is that he wants Albert to as well. "Al..Al, C-come for me...in me..God-"

His back arched again and his nails only dug in more as he tightened around his lover and let those waves of mindless pleasure carry him over the edge and into a thoughtless white haze.

The moment Jet's back arches and he claws into Albert's shoulders is the moment when the German reaches the end of his endurance. He lets go into Jet, gasping and shuddering in waves as he pulses inside, holding onto his partner for dear life in a grip he can't loosen until he finds himself collapsed on top of the blond, dizzy and gasping for air.

And a funny thing happens.

A sense of peacefulness washes over Albert, a piece of mind he'd been reaching for since he let Jet stay. In this moment everything is right, a peaceful, and perfect. Nothing else exists but himself and his partner, a tired and sated tangle of organic and in organic limbs. It prompts Albert to leave a small trail of miniature kisses on the part of Jet under his lips, light and gentle and happy.

He feels like he'll never catch his breath again and everything seems overly warm and they're a mess of sweat, tangled limbs and tangled sheets, but as a whole it's perfect. Everything is perfect because it's how it should be.

Arms that have a slight tremble to them lace around the broader man and clutch him as tightly as they can to the blond's chest in what could easily be called a possessive embrace. He doesn't feel like he has anything left to prove in 'reclaiming' the older man, but that feeling of needing to challenge the universe to take this away from him probably wouldn't subside for a while yet. Especially not with how soaked in happiness he was.

"I don't think I'll be able to move for a week thanks to you...hope you're gonna take responsibility for that."

Edited 2014-03-24 18:20 (UTC)

"You're on your own, I can't move either," Albert breathes in a low chuckle against Jet's chest, pink around his ears. "Not that it's a bad place to be."

Albert's content to lay here atop Jet for the foreseeable future, head tucked under Jet's chin and cheek smushed up against his clavicle. It probably doesn't look comfortable in the slightest but the German wouldn't trade it for the world's softest feather pillow. He can hear Jet's heart beat gradually slowing to a more natural rhythm and he feels as if his whole body is in concert with that beat. At the very least his own heart is, tapping out in tandem with his partner.

Til the siren come calling

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