Disclaimer:  If they were ours, they wouldn't have had to run away
from home to get together.

Spoilers:  X-Force-ish stuff...

Summary:  Safety first.  When riding a bike, wear a helmet.  When
engaging in sex, wear a condom.  When watching TV, wear both.

Pairing: Rictor/Shatterstar

Ratings note: NC-17

Authors' notes: Damn that couch has seen a lot of action.  Jane
wonders whether Cable sometimes just stands around looking at
it funny.

Acknowledgements: To Sheila and Otsoko, who helped us when
Shatty insisted on getting bilingual on our asses, and provided
ever more things for us to whisper in the dark.

Feedback:  Is glorious.  teland793@sbcglobal.net and
janestclair15@hotmail.com

*

Just one late night on the couch, popcorn down to the kernels and TV
blaring an infomercial that's just obnoxious enough to actually *hold*
Rictor's attention. The guy doing all the talking reminds him of some
of the female-to-male transsexuals they'd stumbled across walking past
that one club in the city.

Small, pale, and almost *intensely* muscled. Not huge, but sort of
ropy with it, with big green eyes and a beard around a soft pink
mouth. Beard hair like something drawn on like a child, thick and
straight and. Bushy. Flash of anonymous girl part, section 3 in his
head -- just these hips, and the triangle between. Soft brown bush-
beard hair and the thought makes him shy a little.

Women are pretty, but there's something fundamentally *strange*
about them.  Something about the way they're shaped, and how
they can be naked and hairless except for that shocking triangle
that's exactly where Rictor is supposed to be going. Memory of
turning 13 and being tossed in a weird-smelling room with a woman
in her 30s, all hips and stretch marks and huge, soft breasts.

It had been terrifying in a way he still jerks off about sometimes, in
that what-am-I-doing? way.

The man on the screen is scrubbing tile that might have been on that
same whore's floor now. Staring directly into the camera and blinking
maybe once a minute. Ric settles back against the couch and brings his
hand to his mouth, or tries to.

Looks up to find Shatty holding his hand in both of his and studying
it hard. He's pretty sure he hasn't punched anything hard enough to
injure himself, though. "What's up, 'mano? Did I get a splinter?"

Shatty says, "No," almost absently, not looking up.  So Ric just
waits, sure that some explanation's going to come, and keeps waiting
until Shatty extends a finger and rubs it over one of the dozens of
small scars on his knuckles.  The callus that scrapes over the thin
skin is startling, a small shock that expands when it touches a nerve
interlaid with bone.  Enough to make him gasp, and then reach out as
lightning-fast as Cable's taught him to be and close his other hand
around Shatty's wrist.

Moment like that, in which Shatty looks at him as if Ric's done
something bemusing.  He doesn't let go, or even end the little caress,
even trapped as he is by Ric's grasp.

Ric notices the sharp, almost invisibly fair hairs that are part of
the texture of Shatty's arm, making the line of him just that much
blurred, extra paleness now rubbing at his palm.

Startling, his own darkness against that freckled white-pink.  Shatty
turns towards him, finally, and releases Ric's hand from his clasp.
Then just picks up the other hand, the gripping one, peeling each
finger back to get it loose.  And holds it up to the light.  Which
catches the small, startling lines of scars and the almost-bloody
lines of hangnails he's bitten off in the last couple of days.  Not
even thinking, particularly, while he's been chewing on his fingers,
though he's learned not to do it in battle, at least.  But he's
shocked by how close to meat they look under Shatty's eyes.

More shocked by that, maybe, than the bow of Shatty's head when he
raises Ric's hand to his mouth and kisses each finger individually,
ending with his mouth rough-soft against the line-scar that curves
barely-there along his knuckles to hook around his middle finger.

Ric has the insanely stupid urge to ask if that is, perhaps, one of
the Mojoworld rituals they just haven't come across yet. Kissing
battle scars.  Something intensely male in that, despite everything
else. Though it could get tricky with where some of his own scars are
located and Shatty *heals* and what he really wants is to buy some
time.

"Um."

And in that second Shatty releases his hand, and Ric catches himself
just leaving it hanging there while the other man practices Decorative
Lounge #3 -- half-twisted, one arm along the back of the couch, warm
hand just behind and between Ric's shoulderblades, the other across
his own thigh, bent up and resting on the cushions between them.

Knee just brushing Ric's thigh.

Shatterstar is giving him that look, the one he always associates with
the way the man had learned Spanish, and the way it had seemed
perfectly natural for him to learn Cadre. In other words, part of that
unspoken thing that lays large and strange between them, always.

"You should not harm yourself in this way, Julio."

Shrugs it off, trying and failing to look away. "It's just a bad
habit."

"You seem to do it when you are upset about something. Are you
upset?"

"No, I'm not." Low and serious and *such* a lie, even if Ric can't
put a name to why.

But Shatty just nods and turns back to the screen, where the
man-thing is polishing silver now, blackening greenish tubs of
water and still not blinking enough. Ric's eyes hurt in sympathy,
so he watches Shatty instead.  Watching him focus and study in
that unnerving way that means he's learning something ridiculous
and strangely true about politics, life, cleaning products, and
society all at once.

Feeling strangely unfinished, and his fingertips tingle.

He brings them up to his face almost absently, and catches himself
*sniffing* them.  Looking for something sweet and warm that'll tell
him what Shatty's mouth is like, and that's entirely *too* intimate a
thought.  Only about one step away from a kiss, and he has to remind
himself that's what it was.  Only, just *normal* somehow.  Easy.

Just quiet for a while, watching TV and watching Shatty and worrying
gently at the cuticle of his forefinger.  Thinking anxious Cable-
focused thoughts and clinging to the vague, happier *silver*, abstract
presence of Shatty that grounds him.

And somehow in spite of that, he's startled with Shatty reaches out
with one big hand and pulls Ric's fingertip out of his mouth.  Firmly,
reminding him that he promised, if not exactly in words, that he
wouldn't do that.  Startled by the spit-slick darkness of his finger
in that too-fair grip.  By how easily it slides in the shell of
Shatty's hands, by the undeniable eroticism of the feeling, *pushing*
gently against the heel of Shatty's hand, now, to keep the sensation
up.

To keep the *feeling*. The heat spreading all over his body, unable to
look up at the other man or speak. Just this, finger against palm, and
Ric knows he should've done something, *said* something. Anything
to bring this *thing* out into the light and crush it to dust.

Knows the dust would somehow shine, though, and swallows. Closes
his eyes and pushes his drying finger to the center of Shatty's palm
and rubs in slow circles. Just.

Feeling.

Hard and smooth between the lines of his palm. Warm. Ric
desperately tries to ignore the fact that he's getting hard, and only
stumbles on to wondering what *Shatty*'s feeling. If he likes it.
Moment of instant heat, then cold when the other man grabs *his*
wrist.

Has to force himself to stop and still can't look up, though his eyes
are wide now, and the next thing he knows is that his finger's being
kissed again, several times. Open kisses, wet ones, slick tongue
tracing his scars and making him shiver.

Shatty's name comes out a moan, swallowed off when Shatty pulls his
finger into his mouth to the second knuckle and. Sucks.

"*'Star*"

Watches his jeans begin to bulge and then has to look up into
Shatty's clear eyes. Watching Ric hungrily, lips pursed around his
finger and *moving*. Ric knows he's saying something but he can't
understand it, isn't sure what language it's in. Just knows it's
guttural
and betrayingly sincere and, apparently, exactly what Shatty wanted
to hear.

Finger released with a small, wet pop.

"I want to taste you, Julio."

He should say no.  He should pretend he doesn't understand what
Shatty means, though considering the tone his meaning's hard to
miss.  He should slide away and go jerk off in the shower or in his
room or outside or do *anything* except whisper, "Oh fuck yes."

They're the right words to close the space between them, so that
Shatty's knees are against his, pressing in and sliding to fit.  And
there are big, pale hands working his jeans loose, getting them open
and his underwear out of the way and lifting him out into the
startlingly cool air that was comfortable until just a second ago.
Moment of that, warm touch and cold air, and then Shatty bends
down, too flexible for a man of his size, and wraps his mouth around
Ric's erection and *sucks* him.

More than that, if he's honest.  Shatty massages him with the length
of his tongue, runs the aching-tight head of Ric's cock across the
rough-slick surface of his hard palate.  Mouths him tight and then
pulls back and holds just the tip of Ric's cock in his mouth and the
*tasting* of him is so obvious that it should be too much.  Entirely
too pleasurable, so that he's surprised when somebody moans and it
isn't him at all but Shatty.  Who's sucking him now, efficiently and
carefully, stroking his balls in a way that's almost as good as the
mouth on him.  Fingers tracing the shape of each testicle inside the
skin.  Never remotely like a threat, and the warmth on them feels
incredible.

Better than good when Shatty takes them in his mouth and strokes the
underside with his tongue.  A soft, barely-stubbled cheek rubs up
against his slick, aching, cooling cock, and this time the moan is
definitely his.  Spreads his legs wider and welcomes every touch and
just goes with it.

Red hair tangles around his fingers when he grips because he can't
help holding that head, not now that it's back on his cock and sweet
and perfect and *pulling* him towards orgasm.  Sucking hard with
one hand around the base of Ric's cock, demanding and somehow,
in spite of the randomness of their ending up like this, the most
intimate thing Ric can ever remember anyone doing for him.

*Different* on some essential level from a female touch.  He's sure he
wants this.  The red hair in his grip is so utterly *Shatty* that he
can't resist.  Bucks when he can't hold still anymore and eventually
gasps in a rough mix of Spanish and Cadre that he's going to come.
Going to ease Shatty back and catch it himself, but the mouth hangs.
Intimate and slick, still licking him while he groans and spurts into
that hot, wet place.

Shatty raises his head slowly, and Ric can't tell whether he's
blushing or just flushed.  Doesn't quite meet Ric's eyes.  He's turned
inward, rolling his tongue in his mouth in a way that's so obviously
reading the taste that Ric can't mistake it.  Just an extra drop of it
at the corner of his lips.  Enough for Ric to lean in and lick off,
then kiss him deep and thoroughly, getting the taste of himself and
the taste of Shatty underneath and expressing all the sudden
happiness that's crept up on him.  Still with that head in both hands
and he's startled that it takes a minute for Shatty to start kissing him

back.

It's better when he does, though.  Shatterstar kisses deliberately,
concentrating a lot on the fine details of it.  Undeniably *male* body
leaning in against Ric, and he's vividly aware of how *hard* Star is.
Very still in spite of that, but this very fine shudder runs through
him when Ric ghosts his hand across the bulge.

Ric thinks, honestly, that he might be willing to just do this right
here, but it's unreasonable that they've been left alone even this
long.  And he wants to do this right.

He says, "Upstairs."

Watches himself being understood in those silvery eyes and has to
swallow, really *register* the taste of himself in his mouth mingled
with 'Star, sugary salt and the man is on him again, one hand cupping
the back of Ric's head while the other *grips* him by the arm.

*Desperate* kiss now, or perhaps just chaotic. He can feel Shatty
trying to check himself, control himself for this and he thinks the
rush he feels is... almost cruel.

To take such pleasure when Shatty moans and sucks hard at Ric's lips,
when Ric presses his palm against that hard, perfect chest and pushes
instead of caressing. Broken kiss leaving them both dazed, Ric with
colors on the edge of his vision. *Gotta remember to *breathe*,
'mano*

Finally stands up and pulls Shatty of the couch only to find himself
caught again.

Dangerous and terrifying and so *right* that Ric can't hear a thing
but the wet sounds and the pound of his own heart, that his world has
narrowed to just his friend. His friend who's starving for him, biting
and licking and sucking and so *hard*, but he's gotta do this *right*.

Stops himself from reaching down to cup and squeeze Shatty through
his jeans and pulls back again. Deliberately turns away and walks for
the stairs, Shatty's look crawling all over his back like spiders, like
fingers, like *heat* and he has no idea what he's going to do.

Suddenly aware of his ass in a way that's never even crossed his mind
before, not like this, not like something he'd *want* to do. First
landing and Shatty pressed to his back, to his whole body, arms
wrapped around him and he's nuzzling. That sort of rough caress just
before a bite, hands starting to roam his body, skating gently over
his groin and Shatty's *hips*. Pressed to him. Hard, hard cock pushing
against his ass.

Not grinding or thrusting so much as just existing there. Somewhere
between a promise and a plea. Jesus, not ready not ready not even
*close* to ready and this is the time but it is *not* the place.
Breaks free again and jogs up the stairs to his room, yanks the
tangled sheets back and begins to strip, clumsily.

Watching Shatty do the same, with that weirdly natural performance
style of his, like the only way he knows to get naked is to show off
every muscle to its best advantage, to hold Ric pinned with his gaze.
Not slow, but showy, distracting. Ric's too-sensitive cock getting
hard again. Feels a little like a kid who's never had sugar locked up
in a candy store -- amazed and just that slightest bit terrified.

"Get. ah. Get on the bed."

Shatty slides past smoothly, brushing their shoulders together as he
goes.  *Crawls* on the bed, hands and knees and everything's so hard
and lean and textbook formed, obscene and beautiful and Ric's on him
before he can settle, bracing himself above the other man and just
touching him everywhere he can reach.

Neck and shoulderblade and flatted bowl of hip, brushing smooth, soft
skin.  Healing factor skin, or maybe Shatty has as much skin stuff as
he does for his hair. Brings his mouth down and understands something
he doesn't have a name for, the way he *has* to drag his teeth here,
lick and suck there. Turn Shatty over and tongue his navel, get the
hang of feeling another man's naked cock against him, wet and so
*hot*.

Shatty arching into his touches, hands trembling on Ric's shoulders,
trying hard not to push and just failing. Ric resists for another
moment to bite down hard on the flat belly. Suck and bite and hum
tunelessly between his teeth. Make the mark last until he's done, and
then make a new one, and another, and another --

"*Julio* --"

"Fuck, *"Star*..." Hard again but he has to and Shatty needs him and
he can do this, he can. Taste his friend.

He flinches from it the first time.  Sharp and startling in his mouth
and he can't keep from jerking back.  But even that quick stroke of
his tongue draws a long, begging groan out of Shatty's body, and Ric
has a moment to think about exactly how *good* this felt when Shatty
did it for him.  Brings his mouth back and kisses the shaft, strokes
it softly with lips and tongue and just barely touches his teeth along
it.  Feels Shatty's hand tighten on his shoulder and a half-audible
stream of begging in Cadre.  So he sucks in a couple of deep breaths,
pulls his lips in over his teeth, and takes Shatty's cock in his
mouth.

Heavy and warm and not so awful on his tongue once he's past the
initial shock of the taste.  Drooling a bit, but he doesn't think
Shatty minds, and the wetness sliding down onto his hand at the base
makes his touch slick when he brings that hand up along the shaft to
rest his lips against.  Moves slowly along the length he's given
himself.  He hums, just softly, in the back of his throat, because it
helps him breathe and because the small vibrations of it raise moans
out of Shatty like nothing he's imagined.

So he isn't surprised, really, the first time Shatty bucks under him.
Up-down slam of the hips that gets his attention but doesn't choke him
as long as he keeps his hand in place.  Better than *anything*,
almost, that he can make his friend do that.

He slides down on his chest, holding himself up on the elbow that
connects him to the hand around Shatty's cock, and frees up the other
hand to go exploring.  Down to Shatty's balls and behind them to that
thin, too-delicate path of skin.  Just lightly over it at first, but
the next thrust his sucking draws out of Shatty brings the free hand
up against a small hardness under the skin, and the pressure he gives
there tears out something between a moan and a scream.

He wants to make his friend come.  Strange thought, because when he
started this was mostly about giving back the pleasure Shatty gave
him.  But he does want it. Because he wants Shatty to fuck him, and
they aren't going to be able to try that until they've calmed down
some.  So.  Wet mouth soaking his hand and Shatty's body, really
sucking now, like he could pull everything about his friend that he
loves down his throat.  Starts a hard, steady massage against that
little, hard place.

Hand in his hair and a more-than-urgent *Julio* hissed at him, but he
isn't sure he'd pull back even if he was in a position to be able to.
Instead, he jacks Shatty as hard as he can with his grip hand and
pulls back a bit, luckily because he doesn't catch it in the face next
time Shatty bucks, his whole gorgeous body rising off the bed and
half-screaming and coming into Ric's mouth.

Flash of glittering pride that he brought that out, but he can't quite
ride it and ends up gasping with the semen still in his mouth and his
face pressed against Shatty's belly.  Still jacking him a little and
in spite of his own startlement loving the ragged sobs he gets with
every stroke.

He just stays there for a minute while Shatterstar's body stills.
Pulls his knees in close and smells the sweet-sharpness of that
translucent skin.  Shatty's hand comes down to massage between his
shoulders.  Ric's aware, vaguely, that Shatty's talking to him,
sliding between Cadre and Spanish in a way that's meant more to
make him easy than to convey any particular meaning.  He doesn't
really have to pay attention until Shatty pulls him up to lie with his
head on the pillow and straddles him.  Whole mass of his body on
Ric's when he leans in and kisses.

The tongue in his mouth is entirely welcome.  He sucks on it for a
minute before he offers the semen in his mouth back.

Long minutes while they pass it back and forth between them, during
which Ric gets to understand that making out isn't just a tease but
its own kind of lovemaking.  Shatty's body on top of him is warm and
intimate and tangled around his legs, and the kisses they give each
other are wet and sloppy and lazy.  Not going anywhere yet, though
he's hard again and Shatty's halfway there and in all of this Ric's
aware that he's got his legs spread and that Shatty's between them, so
that his new hard-on brushes underneath Ric's, sliding towards his ass
with a slippery inevitability that makes his stomach turn over.

Like what if he pulls his knees up. If he begs for it. If Shatty just
pushes it *in* and everything's too big for the world all of a sudden,
especially the fact that it can happen, that it's gonna happen *soon*.
Right here in this bed with Shatty half-wrapped around him and making
love to him, feverish and slow and unstoppable.

Stubble scrape along his cheek and Ric bends to mouth his neck, Shatty
whispering only in Spanish now. Love words, *fuck* words, hard against
him and straining.

*te quiero ay te quiero*

Words or thought of just the translation of the slap and drag of skin
on skin, naked together and rolling and *yes*. One leg bent up around
Shatty's hip and pulling him closer still. Wants to be close. Wants to
be inside and never have to have this end, sweat trickling down his
spine and Shatty's hand on *his* hip, fingers splayed against his ass,
squeezing and testing.

Every part fucking every other, everything sex and bright and hot, Ric
arching his head back and listening to Shatty call him Julio, mouth
buried and mobile against his throat, soft, sweaty hair tickling his
chin. Shatty's knees between his own, spreading him, thigh against
thigh and Shatty's fingers gathering the sweat from the base of his
spine and slicking his cleft with salt and wet.

Arching and thrusting now, one of his own hands back to help Shatty
spread him wide. *Give* him this, never ever wants him to doubt that
Ric is his to touch and bite and fuck until he sees stars. Something
about men, here, about the only way to get close, about some fleeting
memory of the idea of Platonic soulmates that makes Ric nudge their
faces back together for another kiss.

*te amo* he thinks and pushes into every swipe of his tongue,
every long suckle on Shatty's swollen mouth. Finger teasing circles
around and around his hole, making him clench and jerk and break the
kiss to

"ah --"

Shatty whispering again, fervid and low.

"Te quiero ... quiero estar dentro de ti ...  te quiero estar dentro --"

both of them suddenly scrabbling for the hand lotion on the night
table, knocking it to the floor and Ric laughs and Shatty bites *down*
on the join of neck and shoulder.

Cutting off the laughter for a moan, a deep need to lie there and take
it that his roving hands put the lie to.

Shatty feels so *good*, sweat-slick under his palms and always moving.
Too close to slide his hands between them, so he thrusts faster,
harder until Shatty pushes one finger inside him and *crooks*.

Like nothing else, so fucking *raw* and sweat stings Ric's eyes and he
kisses all over Shatty's face, moves his hand back down to hold
himself open for it, *beg* for it, other arm pinned under Shatty's
head and helpless, fingers twitching and stretching, palm open to the
ceiling and *grasping* --

"*Lindo*, Julio, si..."

Flips them over again, Ric on his back, feet flat and thighs spread.
Shatty braced over him, kissing and rocking and thrusting until he
slips between Ric's cheeks and it feels so good he has to arch, shake,
twisting them out of that wonderful groove and listening to Shatty
growl and curse.

Biting at each other now, stubble rough against Ric's tongue,
Shatty's hair a dark curtain gleaming in the moonlight and

"Te lo ruego, Shatty, *please* --"

"No puedo creer lo bueno que eres para mi... Que bueno eres!"

Laughs at that until Shatty dives between his legs and *licks* him --

"Ay, Dios!"

Flat and wet, again and again, teasing at his hole before thrusting
in, devouring and hot. No time for shame, or maybe it's just the thing
making this even *better*. Shatty's thumbs pulling him apart, Ric
holding his knees to his chest and trying to breathe, trying to
scream, trying to *survive* this. Shatty so *hungry* for him and
desperate, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, stubble making
him writhe for more.

Cock dark, nearly flat against his abdomen, drooling freely and this
isn't enough, this is *killing* Ric, hair sticking to his face as
shakes his head and pushes against Shatty's face. Whole world
crumbling to ash under all this incredible honesty. The last sign, the
last assurance that *anything* is OK between them, that he can have
anything, everything and still have *this*.

Tongue suddenly replaced with two fingers, just rough enough,
almost filling him, almost taking care of him as Shatty stretches,
hangs half off the bed to snag the lotion with his other hand.

Flips it open and pours it all over Ric's groin, cool and shocking,
messy as hell and Shatty steadies himself on his knees. Watching Ric's
face as he strokes himself with one hand and *opens* Ric with the
other.

"Si, si..."

Has to close his eyes again it's so good, Shatty's fingers inside him,
twisting and working him into shape, the *right* shape for him,
something new and vital, wide open and desperate. Sheets damp
with his sweat and cock *aching* for this, for the fuck. Shatty's hard
cock *por el amor de Dios, chingame! *Fuck* me...*

Maybe said it aloud because Shatty groans, fucks him fast for another
few moments before pulling out. Lining them up.

Slipping in, long and slow and Ric has to throw an arm up, hide his
face and bite into the flesh of his own arm.

*This* is full, this is Shatty *inside* him, thick and perfect.

"Deseo verte..."

And somehow this is better than good, because this is his *own*
bed.  Nothing alien or unfamiliar or scary except the ache and
pressure and pleasure inside him.  When he's dreamed about sex he
doesn't dream about doing it here, in the warm, body-smelling
sheets and rucked-up blankets he slept under last night, and when
he's had sex, it's been in the smell of others, stomach-turning and
sickening and *nothing* like this.

He's *safe* here.  If he wants to pulls his knees up and link his
ankles together in the small of Shatty's back and just *push*
his whole body into it, it's OK, because it's just the two of them.
If he needs to whimper while the ache builds and crests and eases,
he can.

Shatty kisses him through it.  Tongue in his mouth, mouth on his
throat, all over his face.  He's frantic at first, kissing back hard
so he won't scream.  Which Shatty must understand, because he's
very still, just holding there, deep, *deep* inside Ric's body.

"Dios, Star -- me duele tanto, hurts so much, es increible, eres
increible, ay *Dios* --"

"Yo lo se, Julio hush, te amo, te amo tanto.."

So.  In his own bed, familiar smell and new, bright, intense Shatty-
smell in his lungs, and Shatty pulls out, just a little way, and
pushes back in.  Sliding over something inside him that *throbs* in
answer, and pulls Ric's cock back from where it was hiding to the
land of very interested.  Pleasure that starts at the centre of him, in
his belly and his ass, and leaves his hands and feet so light that he
can do *anything* with them.  Touch in ways he hadn't imagined
before, push Shatty down against him, massage into the long,
defined muscles of Shatterstar's back.

Little strokes like that, careful at first as he gets more and more
used to it, grateful in the reasonable part of his mind that they gave
it this long and the rest of him just wanting *more*.  Immediate and
bright.  So bright that he's afraid to look.  Buries his face in the
crook of Shatty's neck makes begging whispers and screws his eyes
tight and by some effort of will jerks his hips up to meet the next
thrust.

It goes deeper than any of the other ones have, pushing up far
enough that his stomach leaps with it, but oh *good*.  "Si...  oh
yes Star just like that, oh tomeme, Star fuck me fuck me fuck
me..."

Hard thrust that makes his eyes fly open.  Makes him wail.  *mas!
si mas!*

*In* him, deep in, thick and hard, and this, *this* is what men do
together he wishes he'd known and knows he wouldn't have given
himself up to anyone else.

Mouth on his mouth in a continuous kiss that he can scream and cry
into and not be heard.  Hard fuck into his ass, all the stretching
just a prelude to this.  Hard and deep, fast.  His cock between them's
too tightly sandwiched between their bodies for either of them to get
a hand around it, but there's sweat and lotion to give it some kind of
slickness, and the washboard-rippedness of Shatty's belly's never felt
as wonderful before as it does right now.

He feels it building, low down, and pushing up through his belly and
chest towards his brain and in that moment there's a bright, direct
line between them that his orgasm *blasts* down, shorting him out and
blurring his vision and making him *scream*, all the air in his lungs
pouring into Shatty's and his semen spilling between them and sliding
over both their skins.  And while he's still up Shatty slams into him
hard hard *hard* and moans, and comes.  Warm-wet flare of it in him
that's its own kind of pleasure.  This knowledge that Shatty's
*inside*.

Shatterstar collapses that last bit of his weight on top of him, cock
shifting inside making Ric moan and hug tighter, only reluctantly
letting his legs drop.

Breathing through the feel of Shatty softening within him, his come
trickling out and down Ric's thighs. Somewhere within he's laughing
and crying and *demanding* Shatty know how much he loves him in
every language he can think of, and some he can make up. Too much
to actually speak, though, and so he lets his hands roam, gasps when
Shatty finally slips out and they can roll onto their sides.

Kissing and touching, eyes open to each other and smiling and it's
something huge and growing *inside* Ric, a whole universe expanding
and with that and the throb of his ass he *can't* catch his breath.
Doesn't want to if it means Shatty will stop touching his chest that
way, like he's trying to steady Ric's breathing through sheer force of
will. Like he needs as much as Ric does to stay connected as long as
possible.

Language of it still running through his mind. Yes, Shatty, yes,
*personal* discussions and a moment to wonder if this was there
even then. In airports and masses of rubble and shared hotel
rooms... if this was something he always could have had.

"I love you," Shatty says, in English, and Ric knows what that means,
too.
 

End

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