silenttrainbaby | More questions than answers (closed to Curtis 11/11)

There were nights when he wasn't at Curtis's. The nights where Grey stayed at Rat's, he curled himself around Rat's smaller frame the cat slept with them, too, the smallest of the spoons.

When Grey wasn't there, there were times when he kept to himself on the sofa. But it's so quiet and he still didn't like too-wide spaces in the dark, when he was alone.

He wandered, then, listening at Yona's door, quiet, then Curtis's. Curtis who tossed and turned.

He padded in, the cat following at his heels, wearing just a pair of sweatpants and he knelt in from of Curtis, reaching out a hand to rest it on his shoulder, to still him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

silenttrainbaby

A warning, yes, but this was about giving and receiving, about touch and being touched - something Grey craves like sunlight. He rocked his hips and felt Curtis against him, kissing away the word, kissing away his name sounding like that. There were, after all, other ways Curtis could sound.

From:

manwiththeknife

The kid had the name of another man tattooed over his heart-- literally, and had already attracted the attentions of someone new. Curtis felt like a thief. But that was really no different than any other day. And Gilliam was right, it would've been better with two arms. Two hands. He felt off balance and clumsy, but that couldn't be blamed entirely on his arm.

But whatever guilt he felt, whatever uncertainty, was quickly drowned out by greed. By the need to feel skin against his, their clothes becoming an increasing annoyance. If he tried hard enough, he could convince himself that he could take this, this one fucking thing for himself, just once.

Edited Date: 2014-12-05 05:05 pm (UTC)

From:

silenttrainbaby

But he could take this because Grey was offering it, giving it. It was what he knew, what he did, what he wanted to do.

Sensing the shift, the cat exited stage right and Grey kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him naked as he kissed Curtis's mouth, his neck, working to get his thin clothes away, too. This was good - touch was good - he still craved it.

From:

manwiththeknife

That should've been the point when he stopped it. Right then. But he didn't. He let Grey undress him, a bitter, humorless cough of laughter punching its way from his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been naked in front of another person. Everything on the train had been hasty fumbling in the dark.

Over the last months, Curtis had filled out, muscle building slowly under his sallow skin, his left arm the only point of real atrophy. He was still scarred, but broader, but in ways he'd never cared about. He was a lot of things, but he'd never been vain.

He didn't want to look, but he knew that Grey was built of elegant lines, sinewy muscle and olive skin, even in the train's darkness. And the thin, spidery lines of ink tracing patterns on every visible part of Grey's body.

The awkward fumbling between the men in the tail had always been about necessity. Their circumstances had changed, but maybe this was no different.

With a low growl of a sound, he used all of his strength to flip them over, boosting himself up over Grey with his one good arm and pressing him to the bed with his hips.

From:

silenttrainbaby

Breath caught with the movement, Grey watched him with dark eyes, even as he reached between them, moving just as quickly, a hand wrapping around them both, stroking them both hard.

Always rushed, always fumbling, always dark. All those things. Here, the bed is softer, the air cleaner. The need, though, yes. The need hasn't changed at all.

Take it, Grey's expression said. Take him. He canted his chin up, a leg hooking around Curtis's hip. Take it. He nudged Curtis's erection down.

From:

manwiththeknife

"Jesus," he whispered helplessly, his hips jerking mindlessly, his cock nudging beneath Grey's balls.

Condoms had long since been extinct on the train, and regardless of his education, they'd been far from his mind at seventeen. In the city, it had never occurred to him that they might be a necessity. He wasn't thinking about the consequences as he shifted onto his haunches, took his weight off his arm and spit into his palm.

Preparation would have to be quick. Like it had always been on the train. Because otherwise, his brain would catch up. Otherwise, he'd do the fucking smart thing and stop this.

Before any of that could happen, he was stretching Grey open with scarred fingers, hitching Grey's leg higher around his hip and then pressing into him, panting into the curve of Grey's neck as he thrust in to the hilt.

From:

silenttrainbaby

There was the softest groan, the pant of breath as Grey was filled. Then his ankles were hooked behind Curtis's hips. He slid his hands down that broad back, fingers digging into the meat of the muscle of his ass, and he used his heels to push, to get Curtis deeper.

From:

manwiththeknife

It was an odd thing, to realize that he was nearly thirty five and had never fucked in a bed. Their bunks in the tail hardly counted, and his fumbling, teenage encounters had happened in cars and once, in a storage shed, hurried and giddily nervous, while they'd listened for nearby parents.

It was a struggle, keeping balance like this with his one arm. Frustrating, because he wanted that other hand to touch, to map out the skin beneath him.

Forehead resting against Grey's, Curtis rocked his hips, letting his brain shut down and his body take over.

From:

silenttrainbaby

That was how it was to be, wasn't it? Losing themselves in this, in the give and the take.

They share something more in Darrow too now, the newness of the intimacy this place allows. Grey matched Curtis's thrusts with his own. His breathing came harder, harsher.

From:

manwiththeknife

Grey so rarely made any sound at all, that even those harsh breaths, the soft, aborted moans, seemed precious, somehow. Finding Grey's mouth with his own, Curtis kept up a pace that ensured he didn't have to think. Because it meant that he was free of them, for a little while. Their faces, people counting on him. People he'd gotten killed.

There was just Grey, this kid who'd been fucking handed to him. You go with Curtis, now...

His hips stuttered, thrusting harder, but his arm had begun to shake. "Fuck," he hissed, frustrated, and abruptly, he rolled them again, taking Grey with him as he sprawled on his back.

From:

silenttrainbaby

His own face flushed even under the olive complexion, Grey guided Curtis's hand - his one good hand - to his straining erection even as he moved, even as he rocked to take Curtis as deep as he could. Yes, please. Yes. Take. Give. Please.

Good.

From:

manwiththeknife

Knees bent to give himself more leverage, he thrust up into Grey's willing body, eyes open and watching as Grey moved over him. He let Grey guide his hand, jerking him off in time with their bodies, wanting Grey to actually get something out of this, instead of just taking...

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he panted, and neither of them going to last much longer. Maybe that was for the best.

From:

silenttrainbaby

Grey whined, just a little, the heels of his hands digging into the muscle of Curtis's chest as he moved. The rhythm was going to hell; his movements jerky as he was close to coming. It was - he would -

His cock jerked in Curtis's hand, painting over his chest.

From:

manwiththeknife

Curtis pulled him through it, his eyes dark as he watched Grey tense above him. Then, clutching at Grey's hip, he bucked into him once, twice, a third time, and then he came with a hoarse cry, his head thrown back and his face twisted as if in pain.

From:

silenttrainbaby

Even as his breathing slowed, as his heart stopped hammering in his chest, Grey stayed there, perched on Curtis's hips, still feeling him inside.

He leaned forward, chest to chest, running his fingers along the lines on Curtis's face, working to smooth them away.

From:

manwiththeknife

Panting weakly, Curtis lifted his hand and pushed it through Grey's hair, allowing himself a few moments of afterglow. Of affection. He held Grey close, enjoying the weight of him, his lips finding Grey's in a sleepy, slightly off-center kiss.

From:

silenttrainbaby

It was nice. It was ... so nice. A kind of peace that Grey wasn't expecting with Curtis. Even though they were sticky when the kiss broke, he laid his cheek on Curtis's shoulder, content.

From:

manwiththeknife

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His hand slid down the length of Grey's spine, taking another moment of comfort, and giving a bit in return. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pinched at the bridge of his nose, as the implications of what they'd done began to weigh on him.

You go with Curtis, now...

From:

silenttrainbaby

There was a necessary shift: Grey needed to let Curtis slide free; he shivered at the loss, then just slid a little, angled so that his cheek was on Curtis's shoulder still, a leg thrown over a leg. They were sticky, then, messy. Maybe, though, they could take a shower, together.

He rested his hand over Curtis's heart.

From:

manwiththeknife

"Grey..." he murmured, scrubbing his hand across his eyes, wishing he didn't enjoy the warmth of some else in his bed as much as he did. "I shouldn't have... Fuck. That shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have let that fucking happen."

From:

silenttrainbaby

... what?

Lifting his head, Grey peered down at him in the dark, brow furrowed. It happened. Shouldn't have? Why?

From:

manwiththeknife

"Don't. Don't look at me like that."

He shouldn't look at me the way he does...

"You know why." Heaving a sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut, but when they opened, he touched the side of Grey's face, fingertips grazing the younger man's cheek.

From:

silenttrainbaby

No. Grey didn't. Curtis understood the train, understood Grey's life. Now, they had this and Curtis was saying they shouldn't have?

But they did. He reached out, too, fingers on Curtis's jaw. Why? Tell him why.

From:

manwiththeknife

"I got you fucking killed, Grey. We got you killed. You and Edgar and Tanya... It was all bullshit. I was bullshit," he said, his voice rough in the dark.

"Not to mention, don't you have a fucking boyfriend?"

From:

silenttrainbaby

The words were light slaps, sharp and stinging. Grey sat up, naked and sticky, to peer down at Curtis as he tried to take that in.

What was bullshit? The Rebellion?

Yes, he nodded, he had Rat, but when did that mean that this couldn't happen? In the train, most people slept with whoever. Curtis knew that.