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It started in the car. At least the hands-on aspect. They have their ways of teasing and prodding at one another during the course of the day that didn’t always need physical touch. With words, with looks, and when it comes down to it, they just like to watch each other work. Especially when things do get physical. But tonight, coming home after a late shift, Rude drove (as usual) so Reno had to keep himself awake and aware in other ways. In solidarity with his preoccupied partner, of course.
He busied himself with sliding across the bench seat and into Rude’s space, laying his face against his shoulder in a way that was almost innocent. Until his hand ended up under Rude’s suit jacket, palming his chest, dancing down over his stomach and then lower to grope between his thighs.
Rude grumbled at him wordlessly at first, then about how he was hungry, as if that’s ever stopped them before. Reno had agreed, his hot breath practically crawling under Rude’s collar, but kept going, ever obstinate. Only once Rude started to respond, letting his free hand find its way to Reno’s leg, did Reno back off and scoot back to his side of the car to get himself up to speed. He’d rocked leisurely against his hand and let his breath grow heavy.
If the apartment was any farther from HQ than it was, there wouldn’t be much of anything keeping Rude in his seat and the vehicle in motion. He’d pushed the engine, because even exhausted and hungry, Reno likes it when he goes fast. Rude’s own way of reciprocating in such a scenario.
They’d parked and didn’t linger. In the freight elevator they stood chest to chest, face to face, just breathing in each other’s space, gazes both soft and simmering. Reno with his hands shoved into his pockets and the smallest, knowing curl to his lips. Rude attempting stoic if it weren’t for the one cocked eyebrow and the notable tent in his trousers.
Halfway up, Rude reached up to thumb over the fresh scuff and bruise on Reno’s cheek and he nuzzled hard into his hand like a feline. It hurts, Rude knew, but Reno did it anyway.
“We can take care of that inside.” Just as much a question as a statement.
“Later. Tomorrow. I don’t fuckin’ care.”
The heavy machinery ground to a halt and Reno turned to leave a quick, playful bite to the butt of Rude’s hand before they turned to leave the confined, but public space for the privacy of their own.
Now inside, Reno stops just past the door and shucks his jacket. Rude follows suit, and then snatches Reno around the waist before he can get away. Their mouths finally meet feverishly, only pulling away to make way for cloth and scattered breaths, blindly making their way into the apartment.
They only really get as far as the couch. It’s a good thing. The last time they ended up on the floor, even a potion couldn’t cure the rug burn. With the ease of familiarity with one another’s uniforms, the couch is just far enough to get them naked enough at least, anyway. In Reno’s case, completely. In Rude’s, the last bit, his boxer briefs get pushed down past his ass and let his dick free just as they come to the faithful piece of furniture.
Rude seizes two handfuls of Reno’s asscheeks to lift and tip him back, tossing him flat on the cushions and draping himself on top of him in turn. Reno curses loudly and Rude releases a hiss as their hips crush together, trapping their almost painfully hard cocks between them.
“Fuck! Fuck, yes.”
“Is that what you had in mind, when you said you wanted me to toss you around like that fucker earlier?” ‘That fucker’ had been the one to get the hit to Reno’s face. And he’d had a much harder landing.
“God, anything.” Reno whines. “I just wanted you to fuck me up, and that... Ahh… Keep doing that.”
And he does, the pressure slow and maddening.
Dim light trickles in the window, the only source in here since they ignored everything that wasn’t each other on the way in. They don’t need the light to be able to find their way around their bodies, but to be able to see the other, even a bit, only adds to the feast. It’s just enough to make out expressions. The way their brows draw together in pleasure and their lips part. The glint of nipple rings as the light slips over the contours of their torsos and the metal shifts with their breaths. Their bruises. They can see the proof that, yet again, close calls be damned, they’re still alive.
Rude grabs for the small bottle of lube they keep hidden under a corner of the couch for such times and wraps his hand around both of their cocks, gets them slick, just enough to ease their movements and leave them with delicious friction. It catches the light too, accentuates the slide of their skin as they buck against each other.
After edging themselves on some level for a large portion of the day, the feeling is enough to take their breath at first. Electric and wet silk. Hard flesh under soft skin. Every nerve ending screaming for release and driving them together.
Reno surges up and catches Rude’s mouth again, pulling him down on him by his hip and lower back. Rude follows gladly, hips rolling down hard as they kiss, all tongues and teeth and impatience. Wrapped flush around each other and with legs intertwined, they find some desperate rhythm. The obscene, wet sound of their slick cocks pressed between the planes of their lower bellies join the others in the room while their movements pick up speed.
Reno writhes against the well-worn plushness of the sofa, pinned and pleased to be where he is but somewhat limited under Rude’s weight, trying to get more. Give more. He slips his hand lower and digs his fingernails into the meat of Rude’s ass to urge him on and make up for where he’s limited. Rude growls deep, hips pumping rough.
“Brat”. His voice strained with effort and still thick with fondness, despite the dig. “How do you make me so fucking crazy?”
“Guess you… like me or somethin’. Couldn’t tell ya.”
“’Or something’ he says…”
Almost reverently cradling Reno’s head in one hand, Rude shifts his kisses sideways, across to the bruise, lingering as though it’ll cure it. The pain is still there, fresh as it is, but it mixes with everything else, magnifying, heightening it. Reno shivers, makes a… truly embarrassing, gurgling moan as Rude moves further down to suck at the sensitive spots to the side of his neck, just under his jaw.
He’s definitely not gonna last. Rude isn’t either. Both so wound up. As badly as Reno wants to cum, he doesn’t want to leave Rude too far behind either. He gets a hand between them and starts playing with one of Rude’s nipples, rolling it under his thumb and then tugging on its barbell.
Reno tweaks it too hard and his plan backfires and catches Rude by surprise, causing him to moan directly into Reno’s ear. He usually tries to be so restrained. The unabashed sound and his breath tickles in just the right way and his fist clenches hard into Reno’s hair, prickling his scalp.
It’s all too much. Rude surrounding him. Overwhelming him. Fuck, if that wasn’t exactly what he needed on a night like this. Reno arches as the sensations roll down his spine and into his groin, and that’s it. His orgasm takes him over, babbling Rude’s name combined with any other syllable that sneaks into his mouth.
Him finishing faster than he had maybe intended has its own benefit. Namely that he has some of his wits back when Rude perches over Reno on one hand, takes his big cock in the other and starts stroking himself off. At first, his body still shuddering but limp, Reno can’t decide if he’d rather watch Rude’s hand or his model handsome face twist in pleasure, going between the two rapidly while Rude starts to hit his peak with a groan. This time, he settles on the former, bewitched as Rude’s load spurts up to Reno’s chest before slowing to an ooze over his belly.
Reno likes the way it looks on him, his skin painted by the other man in such a way. God knows, if there was a socially acceptable way to wear cum as decolletage adornment, Rude’s would be part of his daily fucking routine.
Rude stays like that, breathing hard and admiring his own handywork. Reno continues to as well, though perhaps a bit ruefully. He cranes his neck and sticks out his tongue before flopping back again against the cushions.
“Fuck, I wish I was that flexible.”
“That’s all that’s stopping you? I don’t remember you quitting so easy.”
With a small smile, Rude drags his pointer finger through a puddle of his cum, followed by his middle. Catching some of Reno’s own is unavoidable. Still, Rude moves them up to Reno’s mouth and he parts his lips to accept both fingers eagerly, sucking them clean and swallowing it down as if it were sugar icing.
“Mmm, that’s my boy.” Rude tells him, just above a whisper as his fingers slip free from Reno’s warm, silken mouth. Rude’s tender praise sets a warmth in Reno’s chest that spreads both down to his lower belly and into his cheeks. Taking in Reno’s rapt expression, Rude wonders what the both of them must taste like together. He shifts down to just above Reno’s navel and drags his tongue over another puddle, some combination of both of their seed, separate and together, identifiable and still something new.
Something tacit passes between them when Rude looks back up into Reno’s face. Only the two of them know this taste. Somehow it feels like more intense of a thing than it is on its face, like a blood pact, except with cum. What a ridiculous concept, and yet, here they are. Already formed a blood pact a long time ago.
Reno stays frozen in dreamy, contented stillness as Rude moves to kneeling above him. All wide shoulders, thick muscles, little hips, just the right size for Reno to comfortably wrap his legs around.
“We should get cleaned up before we hit the kitchen. Unless you wanted to keep the rest.” Rude muses, gesturing up Reno's torso.
Reno considers, and then gives his reply in a quiet voice reserved for requests like this.
“Will you wash my hair for me?”
Rude smiles. It’s a small activity they both enjoy immensely, but Reno only asks for it when he’s in certain moods.
“Of course.”
Reno bounces back easily enough, switching his tone to feign sounding put upon.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll let you wash your jizz off me then.” He sits up straight, coming face-to-face with Rude’s stomach which growls loudly at them. Reno cackles. “Tub food it is, then?”
“Ugh, I hate-”
“I know! I won’t drop any crumbs in this time though.” Reno reaches up to hook his pinky finger around Rude’s softening cock. “Pinky promise.”
Rude looks down into Reno’s pretty, oddly earnest face and laughs too, giggling as he shakes his head. “You’re a fucking mess and I wouldn’t wish it any other way. You go start the bath and I’ll find… something… for us to eat.”
“Can I get a beer too, chef?”
“If you can not dripple cum down the hallway, yes.”
--
They set up facing each other in the tub, Reno with a plate of assorted bits of bread and fruit and a few cookies balancing atop his bent knees to catch his crumbs, and Rude occasionally holding his cold beer bottle to Reno’s swelling cheekbone. The warm water helps ease their bumps and bruises, but they find themselves steadily losing steam as Rude massages shampoo into Reno’s scalp.
On nights like these, they used to have a lot more trouble sleeping. Awake with stress or fear or guilt. Some toxic combination of all that and more. Now, those things still taint their thoughts, but as long as they both come home in more-or-less one piece, they’re more able to distract each other and keep them quiet.
They fall asleep just as soon as their tangle of limbs hits the mattress.