for plaguedrat - continued [possibly nsfw]

[silenttrainbaby]

[from here]

They are both whole, they are both young, and alive. And a tear may fall-just one- for Gilliam who isn't here, Grey can run his hands down Rat's front, the body much like his own.

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[silenttrainbaby]

Grey watches him and under the water, he traces his fingers along Rat's ribs, down to the concave of his belly.

[plaguedrat]

Rat leans his head to the side, enjoying the sensation while his own hands travel over Grey's back, skimming over tattoos he can't see in the growing darkness.

[silenttrainbaby]

Over Rat's back, then too, and Grey can feel the scarring; his eyes narrow in thought as he tries to figure what that is. Then he watches Rat's face. There is no encouragement for shame; they both have scars, but acknowledgement.

[plaguedrat]

Subtly, he rolls his shoulders and presses close in a way that slides Grey's hands toward his shoulders, away from the scars. From Grey's story, Rat doesn't imagine this is anything new for him. For himself, though, they represent a time of weakness. Failure.

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey had failed in that he had died; the ultimate failure. But he didn't pry, didn't force Rat to move in a certain way. Scars are scars, after all. Instead, he kisses Rat again, those hands wandering lower down the other boy's back.

[plaguedrat]

Rat leans back a little. Between the moonlight and his own eyes adjusting, he can see Grey's face well enough. Wordlessly, he raises his eyebrows, relieved that there are no questions.

Grey could ask, but he doesn't. For that, he's grateful, kissing back and letting himself forget for a moment.

[silenttrainbaby]

Here in this place where the dead live, where everything seems to smell sweet, perhaps Grey tells himself there will be time to ask, to share stories later: lovers lost, scars, all of that.

Here, though, in the moonlight, in the cool water, he feels alive and he runs his fingers over the curve of Rat's behind and back up, smiling a little into the kiss.

[plaguedrat]

Rat exhales and lets himself forget, just for now. In this moment, he can relax. His guard isn't quite down--instinctively he still listens in the distance for trouble--but he's let Grey see him as he is.

That smile, he thinks, could undo him. So Rat covers it with a kiss.

[silenttrainbaby]

Enough of those sweet kisses and the appetite that can be satiated rears its head. Grey wants and here, if they are both able and willing, they can have pleasure. They don't need to abstain. He nips at Rat's mouth, letting his knuckles brush what he hasn't yet touched, the hardness between his new friend's legs.

[plaguedrat]

Rat nods, pushes his hips up against Grey, kissing the invitation over his mouth, jaw, and down his throat. There are a few advantages at the moment to being several centimeters shorter; he fits against Grey, kissing a mark on his throat.

[silenttrainbaby]

Letting out a sound that is just barely a groan, Grey puts one arm around Rat, the other hand wraps around his erection, feeling the curve and texture of it in his hand; his hands are rough, but he knows from his own experience that that's not entirely bad. He strokes, then, root to tip, under the water. Soon, they will go to shore, lie in the grass.

[plaguedrat]

Rat's not unfamiliar with sex, but the intimacy of the moment is more than he's had in a long time. He can't help responding, chasing after Grey's touch, his own hands searching him out.

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey is hard, his cock jerking in Rat's hand and he stares at the other boy, mouth slack with the pleasure of it. He matches his rhythm to the other boy's so that their hands are moving in time. It won't take long, not after so long without the touch of another.

[plaguedrat]

Rat encourages him closer, so that he can wrap his hand around both of them, sharing in the friction. He's been alone for too long as well, but it's the look on Grey's face that stirs deeply in him. He'd forgotten how good it looked to see that pure want on someone.

[silenttrainbaby]

It's not unlike the expression just before death. Grey knows this; there is no way or reason to share that. But he wraps his hand with Rat's and they stroke and he moans again, just the hint of a sound with the exhalation. He presses his forehead to Rat's, silently keening.

[plaguedrat]

Rat can feel it, a little, in Grey's throat as if the sound wants to come out. It almost makes him hold his breath, moving faster into their joined hands.

[silenttrainbaby]

When he spills between their joined hands, into the water, there is a moment of boneless bliss that passes across Grey's face. A brief moment when all that matters is this.

[plaguedrat]

The look on his face is like a painting that Rat could memorize. He watches him, eyes hungry for every detail as he jerks against him, giving in to his own pleasure and kissing Grey as he comes.

He hangs tightly to him, as if they can shield each other.

[silenttrainbaby]

Thin, strong arms around thin, strong bodies. It is only now that the water feels almost cold. Grey's eyelids are heavy, though and he doesn't want to move just yet. Kisses are ghosted over Rat's face.

[plaguedrat]

Rat shifts a little forward, nudging them into the shallowest part, but doesn't hurry out of the water. Getting out means having to, at least briefly, separate from Grey's touch. It's not a compromise he's ready to make.

All he wants, for the moment, is to keep kissing him.

[silenttrainbaby]

That is most welcome on Grey's part, too, as he returns kisses both light and deep. And when he does finally urge Rat to shore it is to lie on soft grass and he rolls to face the other boy. No water to hide them now; he has, now, nothing to hide: his dusky skin, the scars and words, the temporary limpness between his legs. He reaches for Rat again, not willing to give up touch.

[plaguedrat]

Fumbling, Rat grabs his superfiber cloth, offering it as a blanket to cover them both. He's still careful to keep his front to Grey, where a similarly lean shape highlights several light whorls of scar tissue in his shoulder, torso, and leg where bullets have met flesh.

There are other scars too, from knives and fights and falls, all if then earned and taken as lessons. All of them there for Grey to see.

[silenttrainbaby]

Perhaps it was the way Gilliam raised Grey, perhaps it was the nature of the tail of the train, but it doesn't occur to Grey to judge anything he sees. People are what they are, in his experience. Rat is a sum of his parts and much more than that.

Under the cover of the cloth, he lies on his belly, resting his cheek on his arms. He smiles just a little.

[plaguedrat]

It's not the first time he's slept outside, but it's a lot pleasanter doing it with company. Without thinking, he sneaks out a hand and cups Grey's cheek, thumb sweeping over the curve of his lips.

[silenttrainbaby]

Still by habit, Grey, though, kisses that thumb, suckles it just a bit. How he learned to do that, to do other things he hasn't yet shown Rat is another story for another time.