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[Billy has never thought of himself as one of those obsessive stalker boyfriends who needs to be attached at the hip to his significant other at all times. Really, he'd always figured they were pretty good about mutual space. A two-month separation with the potential of spending years in this place without seeing Teddy again is, however, apparently the trigger he'd needed to become one, so after one too many looks from Teddy - some patient, others not so much - he'd officially gotten himself banished from the apartment for the afternoon after too much worried lurking. Which is... not the greatest thing ever on a hot day like today, but ten minutes down the road he realizes that, yeah, he'd been a little ridiculous, either blowing off his responsibilities or dragging Teddy along for the ride. He's happy and eager to have Teddy here, but they'd lived separate lives at least half the time back home; no reason for that to not continue here as well.
It's just hard to let go after you've missed someone for that long.
Still, that's how he finds himself out and about for around five hours today, doing the following (in no particular order):
- a late lunch at Seventh Heaven
- searching around the library for comic books
- combat practice in the Battle Dome (with or without his trusty new teacher)
While at the library, a few sketches find their way into his journal, more or less like the following: this, this, and this. Some time afterwards, a scribbled message appears below.]
What are some good ways to deal with bad dreams?
[Once he's finished all his daily stuff, he'll be bringing groceries home around dinner time, in the hopes that he's allowed. Feel free to run into him at any time.]
It's just hard to let go after you've missed someone for that long.
Still, that's how he finds himself out and about for around five hours today, doing the following (in no particular order):
- a late lunch at Seventh Heaven
- searching around the library for comic books
- combat practice in the Battle Dome (with or without his trusty new teacher)
While at the library, a few sketches find their way into his journal, more or less like the following: this, this, and this. Some time afterwards, a scribbled message appears below.]
What are some good ways to deal with bad dreams?
[Once he's finished all his daily stuff, he'll be bringing groceries home around dinner time, in the hopes that he's allowed. Feel free to run into him at any time.]
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Though as Teddy's free hand rests on Billy's hip, he can't help thinking that maybe they ought to take this somewhere else. Like... not right by the sink. At the same time, he doesn't exactly want to break contact either.]
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[If it hadn't already been obvious what he was thinking, that would've certainly cleared things up. And speaking of psychic, he's starting to notice their location as well. This isn't a good place for this, but he doesn't want to get Teddy to stop so they can move, especially since-
-hrngh-
-yeah, no stopping. He likes that too much. Thankfully, he just happens to be a witch, so he tightens his grip on Teddy, mumbling under his breath as his hands and eyes begin to glow. To the bedroom...!]
[action]
Before Teddy can say anything, though, it's to the bedroom...!
So instead of saying anything, he just turns Billy around by the hips once they're settled, grins, then leans in to kiss him deeply. If Billy didn't find it obvious what Teddy was thinking earlier all pressed back against his hips, then maybe the way he's kissing him ought to clear things up a bit.
... Actually
where's the bed, Teddy didn't even look before deciding to mack on his boyfriend]
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Once the back of his knees hit the bed, he starts trying to turn them around so Teddy's the one leaning against it. He has plans for you, Altman.]
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The hands at Billy's hips tighten their grip and pull, pushing their hips together briefly. A small groan escapes into the kiss, and it's only then that Teddy loosens up and allows Billy to turn them around. Meanwhile his hands leave their spot to go to his hair and his shoulder, fingers gripping into the strands and tugging just slightly.
Just what sort of plans do you have for him, Kaplan? Fun ones, he hopes?]
[action]
Billy groans noisily into the kiss, clinging urgently to Teddy for a moment before his hands slide upwards from the belt, sneaking beneath the material of his shirt to brush over Teddy's stomach and then, moving upwards, his abs. He leans forward, trying to push Teddy slowly down to the bed, though he doesn't mind if they take their time with it. He's sure as hell enjoying this.]
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It's only then that he leans back to follow his silent instructions, his own hands moving to grip the front of Billy's shirt and pull him with him. Teddy sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back and bringing one hand back to keep his balance against the bed, still looking up at his boyfriend with that expression. Though Teddy loves to take charge, to make Billy squirm and see what his actions do, it's just as nice when Billy takes over, too.]
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God but Teddy looks amazing that way, gazing up at him with that face. Billy could look at him all damn day. Though if he did that, he couldn't get anything else done, which is why his hands are tugging on that shirt again, trying to lift it up to expose more skin. He can't pamper Teddy with all these clothes on.]
[action]
Sure, Billy can always magic clothes away. But there's something about peeling off the clothes themselves, showing skin at a slower pace, that's erotic all on its own. When Billy lifts up Teddy's shirt, there is one thing that he hadn't been able to shift away or heal just yet; very faded dark scars that stretch across his stomach. Had he not had his healing capability, those marks would've been much more prominent, likely never to heal. But at this rate, they'll be gone in the next month or two.
Still, they're a reminder of what they'd been through. What they survived, together.
Teddy doesn't pay them any heed, and instead just focuses on pushing Billy's shirt up. It wouldn't be fun if he was the only one who wasn't wearing any clothes.]
[action]
Teddy's voice, screaming, choking on blood, passing out.
"IwanthimtostopIwanthimtostopIwanthimtostop--"
Silently he clings to those words- not for Teddy, but for the memories themselves. He doesn't want this to ruin what he's trying to do here. This is supposed to be a good thing, a treat, a chance for them to have some fun. This isn't so he can angst and cry about the past.
He's okay. We're okay.
And so, stubbornly, he slides his leg off of the bed and backs off just enough to drop down to the floor, crouched between Teddy's knees. The downward motion offers a bit of help with the removal of his own shirt, and as he leans in, pressing his lips to Teddy's chest, one hand stretching out over his stomach - over those scars - the other sneaks around to his back, sliding two fingers down from the slits of his wings. The material of Teddy's shirt dissolves magically as they move, falling harmlessly away from the wings. He's not risking hurting his boyfriend by being hasty, and he can just fix it later.]
[action]
Billy... [There's a hint of breathlessness to his tone, and laughter as well. Might as well return the favor, even though he can't magically rip up a shirt like his boyfriend did.
So, he'll just work carefully instead. Pull the shirt up, then away from the wings until they're through the holes in the fabric, then over his head, slowly, always observing to see if he needs to stop.
Once that's done with and the shirt falls on top of his own on the floor, Teddy finally does what he'd been wanting to do. He leans down, cups his hands gently around Billy's ears, then presses his forehead against his.]
Hey. We're okay.
[He slides his hands back, fingertips brushing the back of his ears, then settling against the nape of his neck.]
Always have been. Always will be.
[action]
I know. I know that.
[He could say more to that, go into detail about how that experience has affected him, affected their relationship, made him more protective, more needy, more frightened of that inability to protect- of losing Teddy.
But he doesn't need to. Teddy knows. Teddy knows everything because he was there, he'd lived it, he'd been there afterwards. Because he'd been okay.
They'd been okay.
Always have been. Always will be.
So rather than saying any of that, he pushes those thoughts aside and tilts his head enough to press their lips together instead, the kiss desperate, deep, and needy. He'll say whatever he feels needs to be said like that.]
[action]
They're okay.
The kiss, plus the sight of Billy without his shirt, certainly makes the pants he's wearing even more uncomfortable. That desperation is matched by his own, his hands moving to cup his cheeks and keep him there, his body subtly leaning forward more as if wondering if he should stay on the bed or slide off and effectively straddle his boyfriend's hips. Both options seem nice, though they're hazy enough that he doesn't quite follow through with either. He's too wrapped up in the kiss, all too happy to follow Billy's lead in it.]
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Hopefully Teddy isn't opposed, because he's moving a little quicker now, leaning in to keep his boyfriend's lips busy while he works.]
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AND LO, IT WAS AWESOME.]
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...I think I'll do the dishes tomorrow.
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Mm, don't you do enough dishes already?
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There is kind of a difference between a job and household chores. Besides, you made the food.
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That's true. Maybe I should dirty up some more dishes, you're probably a master at cleaning them now.
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Right. Because dishes require so much skill.
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Well, you're good enough to make Tony want you to keep working for him. You've gotta be doing something special.
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I think they key point here is the fact that I'm doing it. Tony Stark is the laziest man I've ever met.
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[After a pause, he lifts his head a bit to look down at him, one hand moving to idly stroke the nape of his neck.]
If you need a hand, I can always come over with you. [Although they'd probably make out more than get work done.]
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[There's a long pause as Teddy leans his head back against the bed again, as if to look at the ceiling in thought. Then he smiles again, chest fluttering with muffled laughter.]
Not even a little?
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