It's blazingly hot outside and Wallace is grateful for the fact that their flat- his flat all alone, if you ask him, since he can't remember the last time Scott paid their rent and almost everything in it is owned by him- is cool, at least. Maybe he's a little drunk, but it doesn't matter; coming home feels like it always does.
Scott is already in bed when Wallace shrugs out of his shoes and drops onto the futon, but he is still- or again?- awake and blinks blearily at him. It's too hot to move much and so Wallace just doesn't, he just doesn't move and he doesn't need to because this is his damn bed and his flat.
"Guess who's drunk," He sings a little off-key into the cushion and Scott sighs.
"You are," He says with a voice heavy and rough from sleep- definitely awake again and not still, then- and even though he must know, it sounds a little quizzical. Scott is a little dorky sometimes- sometimes? There is a little voice in the back of Wallace's head that laughs hysterically at that-, but Wallace forgives him because he is generally awesome and very generous and Scott is also pretty hot. "Is that a crown, Wallace?"
"I'm the king of sexiness," Wallace explains and sits up to get himself out of his sticky, sweaty shirt that clings uncomfortably onto him. He can feel Scott watching him, even though Scott tries not to, and Wallace really doesn't mind. "I was chosen by the folk of Canada and shall hereby rule with utmost coolness."
"Dude, that's a shitty, golden plastic princess crown you probably stole," Scott says and Wallace rolls his eyes, unbuckling his belt and throwing it off the futon.
"You're just jealous because I'm the king of sexiness," He replies and wonders whether he has a change tonight or not, then he decides to fuck it, he is the king of sexiness, so he crawls over Scott, leans forward and kisses him. And yeah, there's a response right there, a little hesitant at first, but still totally there. Then Scott tugs the crown off his head and puts it on the floor beside the futon.
"See, not a king anymore," He says and Wallace can see his wide grin in the faint glow from the bathroom lights.
"You're still totally my bitch forever," He decides and leans forward again. This time, Scott's lips meet his readily and yeah, maybe he is the sloppiest kisser Wallace has ever met and this fact regularly lets him wonder exactly how he made his girls so infatuated with him- he honestly thinks it's some kind of fucked up maternal instinct on the side of the girls, really-, but he doesn't mind too much. It's still hot and Scott's naked, warm body- bless you, sleeping habits- should be a little uncomfortable, but it's not, it's just very familiar in a very nice way.
They kiss until Scott makes these little, quiet noises in the back of his throat Wallace likes so much, then Wallace draws away the blanket Scott is tucked in and suppresses a grin when he feels Scott hard underneath him.
"Hey," Scott says a little breathlessly and oh-so-quietly and hooks his thumb into one of the belt loops of Wallace's jeans. "Take that off, eh?"
"Please stop being so romantic, Scott, you're making me blush," Wallace tells him and feels himself getting hotter when he shrugs out of his jeans and underpants. Scott's touches are hesitant at first, they always are; when he wraps one hand around Wallace's cock, though, his grip is firm and determined. Wallace can't help but choke out a wanting moan, dropping his head a little and grabbing Scott's hips a little too roughly. Scott doesn't really complain besides a little groan and a subtle uplifting of his hips. His hair is a little too long already, sweaty bangs hanging in his eyes. Wallace brushes them aside and meets him in a kiss again, sliding his tongue into his mouth like he slides his cock in and out of his hand, slick and fast and demanding.
"Come on, Wallace," Scott gasps and bucks up against him when Wallace thumbs the head of his cock. "Come on, can we..?"
"Sure," Wallace says because hello, he is the king of sexiness and Scott is, well, he is everything and Wallace is actually pretty good in everything, but he is pretty bad in denying Scott anything, which is probably his worst habit. "Can you just-" God damn it, it's hard to concentrate when your dick is getting a really nice hand job and the owner of said hands stares at you with an expression that is probably meant to be sultry or something, but just makes him look like a retarded dog. It's adorable and distracting and the reason why Wallace needs that damn long to find the damn lube together with the damn condom. He briefly wonders why they can't ever have some cool, professional sex; sex with Scott is always so wonderfully, annoyingly messy, so it's probably Scott's fault.
Wallace slides the first finger into him and Scott's breath hitches. Wallace slides the second finger into him and Scott moans like a wounded soldier. Wallace hits his sweet spot and Scott shouts like he's paid for it; Wallace doesn't want to say he is quite damn pleased with himself, but he is.
"I'm quite damn pleased with myself right now," He tells Scott and adds another finger, causing Scott to shout again.
"Shut up, you're gay," Scott pants when he has the breath to do so and Wallace loves his witty, clever responses, he really does. Scott whimpers a little because Wallace is faster than Scott wants him to be, as always, so he tries to slow down, as always, because Scott is, well, he's really pretty damn everything, so there's that. He slows down and Scott rewards him by biting into his earlobe, nearly biting it off in his enthusiasm, his hands slick on Wallace's back, but it doesn't matter because everything is hot and messy and Wallace likes it, takes his time because he can.
He kisses the slope of Scott's nose, his neck, the shadows underneath his collarbones, and Scott squirms a little, his grip slightly slipping. Wallace watches him and waits for him to order the lights out because they usually fuck in total darkness, but this time, Scott stays quiet. It's nice, being able to hunt shadows and light on his skin, not just feeling, but seeing everything, the way Scott's eyes widen in anticipation when Wallace slides the condom on.
"Oh," Scott breathes when Wallace glides all the way into him in one, smooth move and wraps his arms around him because Scott needs god damn steadiness and kept promises, even though he isn't aware of that, and, well, Wallace happily provides him with that despite the heat because he is pretty damn awesome. "Oh, wow."
"I know, right?" He says and isn't really surprised when Scott smacks him in the head for that. There are, as almost always, a few, awkward moments where they flail around trying to find a rhythm, but then, suddenly, it just fits and Scott pinches him when he literally sings with pleasure. They kiss again and it's perfect, the way Scott's hand is tight in his hair, almost cradling the back of his skull while Wallace gently rocks into him, holding him as close as possible, and this, this is-it's what he's always wanted and he hopes it's a little of what Scott's always wanted too. He makes sure by wrapping a hand around Scott's cock and giving it a little special attention, causing Scott to cry out in pleasure and he loves it, he really does.
When Scott comes, it's messy and Wallace swallows his moan with a kiss. He doesn't need very long after that himself, not when Scott is pliant and pleased in his arms and returns his kisses with fervent eagerness. They both need a few moments to catch their breath and Wallace still thinks it's just too damn hot when he carefully slides out of Scott and tosses the condom away before snuggling up against Scott. He is plastered with sweat and so is Scott and they should probably shower.
"Don't even think about getting up for a shower," Scott murmurs into the crook of Wallace's neck and sighs.
"Sure," Wallace says because Scott is pretty damn everything and Wallace is especially bad at telling him to fuck off with his stupid ideas when he is sweaty and glowing from awesome, steamy gay sex in his arms. At the moment, he's totally okay with that.