stands_for_hope | Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling

Entry tags:

house of am

Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling

[continued from here]

It took a few weeks, but soon enough, the apartment had become an entirely settled little commune between the five of them. Steve's things had arrived as Clint had promised, they'd been installed in the new apartment, and the group had made the changes they'd discussed for everyone's comfort with one addition: with Steve bunking with Jim, the room he'd initially intended to take had become a general office/library/art room for everyone to use when they felt like a bit of time alone. For as silly as the concept sounded, all of them had ended up using the room a time or two and it had definitely kept things peaceful despite the addition of two new people.

Considering that the apartment was home to four superheroes and a world-famous journalist, it was amazing how easily they all fell into a routine. Jim, Lois, and Clark would usually leave for work around the same time and Steve, always an early riser, had taken to making them something to munch for breakfast on the way after he returned from his morning run. Having also gotten a position at the community center (teaching kids art and art history), Steve would leave with Diana an hour or so after that. Everyone filtered back into the apartment at different times and whoever was feeling up to cooking would usually start dinner when they got in. If no one was feeling up cooking, one of the two 'old' men would treat takeout.

Today, however, Jim's site was currently closed for due to an issue with the plumbing contractors and some unfortunate flooding that had occurred overnight. That was why Clark texted Jim and invited him to come visit he and Lois at the Daily Planet offices and go out for lunch together.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If it did, I'd be marked up every day. Irish skin of mine. Shows everything."

He smiled up at him.

"I swear you like making me blush to my ears."

Shameless, Jim nodded, looking into his eyes without hesitation. "Damn straight I do. I've always liked it when you blush."

And under the weight of that look, he turned pink to the ear tips before he started laughing.

"Well, you're damned good at it, ya jerk."

He grinned slowly, leaning down to nip one of those ear tips, lips closing over it for just a second. "I learn fast. Sometimes."

And the sound he made at that was entirely inappropriate to any other place than exactly where they were, his stomach flexing at the sensation.

"Damn, Jim..."

"I noticed how you reacted to that in the car." He spoke low and soft, lips never moving far from where he'd kissed. "I wanted to see you do it again."

His breathing was ragged and his pupils were dilated, his eyes opened wide for a moment as he looked over at Jim.

"It feels really good," he informed him, his voice far away and soft.

"I can tell." He drew a little line along the small of Steve's back with his fingertips before leaning down to do it again - to kiss, to trace the curve of Steve's ear with his tongue. A light, wet touch. He knew just what he was doing.

Utterly unraveling the stuff of one Steve Rogers, that's what he was doing. His eyes rolled back, his muscles fought to simultaneously melt and tighten, and his hand pulled in to make a fist of the blanket as the other one waved awkwardly in the air.

"Jim..."

He already sounded wrecked.

He smiled against Steve's ear and breathed, "I love you. And I love how you sound right now."

"That's good," he said, sounding almost dazed, "because--"

And there was some kind of reasoning there, but then Jim had breathed out and the breath hit his skin and he was too busy making a noise and keeping himself from entirely flying apart to continue thinking it.

He watched with pure wonder. Was that... what he thought it was? He felt himself starting to smile as he asked, "Did I just almost make you come, Stevie?"

He made his eyes open again, look up at Jim.

"I'm-- my senses are all--"

He closed them again before letting his head drop back.

"Pretty close, yeah. I told you. You do things to me. Especially when you're..." his lips curved in a smile, "especially when your voice and I love your mouth--"

He pulled up a hand and nudged Jim's leg.

"Dammit."

Which hopefully encapsulated things.

He laughed softly and pressed a kiss just in front of the ear he'd been teasing. "Wanna take your pants off and see if I can turn almost into definitely?"

This, he enjoyed. There was something wonderful about it, about knowing that he could make Steve feel this good. If he could do that, he could do anything.

He turned his head a little, meeting Jim's eyes before slowly shifting his hands down to start undoing his trousers. If he was slightly more cognizant, he'd be pleased that this was helping Jim to be more comfortable with things. As it was, he was just doing what Jim suggested because it sounded amazing.

He was kind enough to wait until Steve's pants were off before he took hold of him around his waist and turned them over, putting Steve on his back and settling himself between Steve's legs. The curve of his neck was just as attractive as it had always been and he kissed there almost singlemindedly. Almost. Because his own hands were at his waist and he was pushing his own pants down, leaving the both of them in their underclothes. "Hope you don't mind," he whispered, "if I do, too."

"N-no, no. No. Uh. No."

He scrambled around inside of his head to explain why he was perfectly fine with Jim being without trousers, in bed with him, and between his legs, and the resulting answer was closer to an improper noise than it was any kind of words.

Especially with Jim's mouth at his throat. He couldn't help but arch up.

"Mm, thank you." There was a moment's mischievous grin before his hips settled against Steve's, a slight shift lining them up, side by side and Jim could barely believe it. Two layers of fabric between them, but he could still feel the warmth of Steve's body, the very obvious difference between doing this with him and doing this with a girl so long ago. It made him make a soft sound, his head dropping to Steve's shoulder as his body moved without his knowledge. This, he knew. He'd had practice. This was instinct and so many dreams and fantasies all coming together, and it left him trembling. "God, Steve..."

Steve's hands moved then, wrapping around Jim's waist and behind his head, tugging him down for a kiss as his hips rocked up against Jim's. Sparks flew behind his eyes and every nerve in his body was singing.

The kiss Jim gave him was the one he'd been holding back. Hot, deep, claiming. Conscious thought was gone. All he could do was act, and his actions said to kiss, to touch, to move with how Steve's hips moved and God it was so good. His pulse was thundering in his ears and that was just fine. Confirmation that this was real.

His hand slid from Steve's waist, up and over his chest and half-dragging the shirt with it, up to the side of his neck, into his hair, and down, following that same trail until he was kneading Steve's thigh, half-pulling until Steve's knee was hooked over his hip.

Steve did the rest of the work, wrapping his leg around Jim and using the other to brace himself. There was a half a second to hate the fact that his undershirt was still on, but a moment's scrambling with one hand had it tugged off (with perhaps a rip or two). The material was tossed away and then his focus was entirely on Jim, where it belonged. On kissing Jim, rocking in time to Jim's movements. To keeping his sanity while Jim's scent was deep in his nose, the taste of his mouth filling him up, prompting a moan he hadn't even realized he could make.

He was in love, he was in lust, he was in heaven.

It struck him then. Steve hadn't done this before. Steve hadn't had the chance to feel someone else's hands on him, someone else's skin--

He moaned of his own accord and hurriedly stripped off his own shirt, giving skin to skin, giving Steve one more sensation to add to the experience. "Just right, Steve," he encouraged. "C'mon..."

There was no chance he was going to stop moving, not when everything felt so perfect. But he did move his mouth from Steve's over to the ear he'd neglected, this time setting his teeth down just enough to give the feeling of hard, slick teeth against delicate skin.

The second Jim's teeth touched his ear, he knew he was done for. When the teeth came down, his hips rocked up and his vision blinked out at the force of the sensation. He made a noise, he knew he'd made a noise, and he'd meant to be shouting Jim's name, but there was no telling what'd come out of his mouth other than something strangled and desperate and rather guttural.

He was shivering but he stopped moving, knowing that after something like that, sensations could become painful. He wouldn't do that to Steve. Jim gathered him close instead, holding him and kissing him - his cheeks, his forehead, smiling with the satisfaction of knowing he'd done that. He'd made that magnificent sound come out of Steve's mouth. "That's my Stevie..."

He was shaking but that was okay, because there were arms around him and Jim was kissing him and grinning like a cat that'd gotten--

Oh, he had just enough of a mind to realize, that's awful. New direction.

He was, apparently, nodding because yes, he was Jim's Stevie, and yes, yes, he was all right. Shaking from the intensity of everything but all right and content and loved--

"Love you."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject