harshboldcharm | (no subject)

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who: warren peace

(no subject)

"Hey," he says, leaning against the wall just outside the bar. It's late, so people aren't really filtering into the place anymore. Instead they've either made themselves comfortable inside or they've left for another place. Wylie, on the other hand, has nowhere to fucking go tonight, so he has no problem with hanging around and kind of looking over the sexy bouncer standing around and watching his post. Isn't that adorable.

"Long night or not bad?" he asks, just making conversation to start. Wylie wants a feel for the guy. He wants to <I>feel</I> the guy. Hah.

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"Getting cleaned up?" Warren deadpans, his own brand of teasing. The joke is revealed, though, by how he slides his hands down to settle low in Wylie's back, keeping them close together.

Wylie grins at him, pressing in against him as that hold tightens. Apparently, there's no rush, here. He's happy about that. He wants to take his time here.

And then, his hands move lower, both hands palming his ass and pulling Warren closer. He curls his fingers in against the muscled flesh in his hands and smiles.

"Or you could just be here to grab my ass." Not that he's complaining.

Letting go but not stepping away he reaches for a bar of soap. Lathering up his hands he slides them over Wylie's back. He can get a scrubbing too, Warren is not stingy about that.

"It's such a wonderful ass," he says with a grin. Wylie hasn't let go of him even when Warren is reaching for the soap, moving his hands along Wylie's back. He figures he could probably return the favor.

He grabs the soap for himself and lathers up his hands before running his palms over Warren's body, up and down his back, over his sides and up again to the back of his shoulders.

One thing Warren doesn't really like about his brain is that he just can't stop thinking most of the time. What he thinks as he slides soap-slick hands over Wylie's skin, holding him pressed close and again kissing him, is that he could get used to this. That isn't a good line of thought to have at a time like this. He can have tonight and he can have tomorrow morning, and after that he can't count on anything else.

Maybe he ought to give the dating scene a chance for once. he's obviously missed being with someone more than he'd thought.

Wylie can be a thinker, but usually he blocks anything serious so he doesn't get caught up in the worries of the world. This is exactly how he ended up with a son in the first place, so clearly that way of dealing is not the way to do it.

His hands continue to scrub over his skin, leaving the soap off his neck so that Wylie could lean in and suck gently at his skin. He hums happily, shifting so he could push Warren's back against the wall, leveraging that.

The cold tiles against his back gets a sharp intake of breath from Warren, but he pays it no mind. he can't help but to grin at the feeling of Wylie's lips on his neck, and he tilts his head to the side a bit to give the man some more room to play.

Edited 2014-09-05 18:49 (UTC)

Oh lovely, he wants to play along. He smiles against his neck, nipping at his jaw and then again down to his neck and then again lower to his collarbone. His hands slide down to his hips, holding him there and groaning softly as he presses tightly against him.

So, this guy is one of the insatiable ones, is he? Well, that could definitely provide for a fun night.

Te soap has already been washed away, but the water still makes things a bit slick as Warren slides his hands up Wylie's back, up to tangle in his hair, gripping there to pull his head back and bare his throat to Warren's lips.

He is definitely the insatiable type once things are definitely a go and so far, things are going very well between them, he thinks. Wylie wants to know more about him, of course. This isn't just a physical thing. This isn't just something that will make him feel good for right now. This is a connection with someone. They have a lot in common. They have a lot of things they could really talk about outside of wanting to fuck each other's brains out.

It seems for now, this is physical exploration and now Warren wants to do some exploring. He tilts his head back and smiles, eyes shut and giving him all the space he could possibly want, though he keeps his hips pressed to his.

Exploration is definitely happening, Warren curious to learn what is familiar and what is new to him. He has to conclude, sometime later when he's sitting on the floor with his back against the wall with an arm slung around a sprawling Wylie who was leaning against him, that there are far more familiar things than not. A quote from a book he recently read pops into his head. Mere plumbing, when all is said and done.

"I've got to admit, this is turning into one hell of a pleasant night."

Wylie has his eyes closed, leaning against him happily and loosely. He's finding that being this relaxed in someone's arms is a rare thing. It's appreciated and he hopes to make sure Warren knows that.

"Hmm," he agrees, humming softly to himself even as he does shift just a little to look at him, "glad you think so. Be sad if you didn't."

Warren has to smile. Wylie is looking just as relaxed and sated as he himself feels.

"I'm completely waterlogged, though," he comments, nudging Wylie gently to get him to let him up. "Lets get out of here."

"Alright, alright," he laughs, shifting and trying to move. He steps out of the shower and drips on the shower mat before grabbing for a towel and rubbing it all over his wet and messing hair. He smiles and sighs as he drapes it around his waist.

There's no way Warren can help a amused snort at the sight. Wylie's somewhat unkempt mohawk had been messy enough before. Now it really looks beyond messy. After having wrapped his own towel around his hips, he steps over to run his fingers through that messy mass of hair. He really can't help himself.

He's always a mess. It' slike his trademark. So far, he really likes this trademark because it means that someone, particularly Warren at the moment. He smiles, tilting his head back a little and then wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Got any eggs? I should make you an omelet," he says, wanting to pamper this man who clearly hadn't known he'd be interested in a man. Let alone Wylie.

"You're going to cook for me?" When had that last happened? He couldn't even remember.

"There should be. Feel free to dig around." His kitchen is pretty basic, with what you could expect to find in the home of a single guy in his late twenties, living alone. Only there is a surprising amount of Asian-inspired stuff. Not only does he like to eat Chinese food, he can cook a fair bit of it.

"Yeah. I'm hungry and it would be dumb to not make you something," he says with a grin.

Digging is something he can do. Digging is what he does. Wylie goes through Warrens stuff finding a frying pan and eggs and cheese and peppers and seasonings and all kinds of stuff to put in the omelet's he's about to make. It doesn't take long before he is whisking up some eggs in a bowl and pouring them into a pan.

Warren has a brief thought of finding some sort of pants to put on, but quickly decides against it. A towel will be find. Besides, he has hunch that it's not going to stay on for all that long anyway.

While Wylie is slaving away at the stove, Warren does some digging into the fridge as well and comes up with a couple of beers to have with the omelet. This is all very domestic, and he's a bit amazed at how quickly Wylie seemed to have made himself at home in his kitchen.

Wylie has a tendency of making himself at home with anyone who will let him. He wiggles his way into someone's life and finds a place he's comfortable and stays there. Warren, he's finding, is very comfortable.

Wylie flops the omelette onto plates and carries then over. He hands one to Warren and grins at him, "dig in."

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