Title: Momentum
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Josef walks in on a work out session intent on turning it into something else. More than either of them ever expected ends up happening. Feelings are confessed and new beginnings undertaken.
98, 99, 100…
Mick counts each push up as he completes another set of a hundred, muscles straining, his back glistening in the dim light of the room, slick with sweat. He grabs a towel from the stairs when he's finished and wipes himself down before moving onto the iron railings, using them as leverage to pull his own body weight up, and then down again, repeating the motion to a 1-2 count.
He senses Josef's approach, before Josef has even stepped out of the elevator. Sixty years as a vampire you become accustomed to the sound of footfalls, the rhythm in someone's step, the pressure on the balls of their feet as they pad along the corridor to your apartment. Still he doesn't break stride, even when he hears Josef's keys jiggling in the lock.
And he has to admit he's showing off just a little bit then. Josef loves awkward, except when it's directed at him. Mick knows this and takes advantage, scenting Josef's arousal, noting his increasing discomfort as Mick slows his movements enough to show off every rippling muscle in his taut frame.
Suddenly a face is bobbing up in front of him as Josef forces his way under Mick's hanging body and waves an annoyed hand in front of his face.
"Hey, macho man, hello, visitor?"
Mick drops to the ground with a grin at the ready. "Yeah, I heard you come in, I was exercising."
"I can see that, have you finished now?" Josef responds with a politeness that's just a little too measured.
"Yeah, for now." Mick crosses the apartment floor to the refrigerator and fetches a bottle of blood. "What are you doing here anyway, Josef?"
Josef runs a nonchalant finger along the edge of Mick's fire place, and then clears his throat as he straightens the sleeves on his suit coat.
"It's Friday night. You know our long standing tradition of me listening to you cursing your ex and blubbering over Beth until one or both of us decides it might be a good idea to end up in bed."
"Oh that, guess I forgot to mark it in my calendar." Mick is still grinning that off centred grin of his as he pours a glass of blood and then offers some to Josef.
"I'm probably tempting fate considering the quality of produce you drink," Josef remarks with his usual aplomb as he fetches a bottle of fine malt from Mick's liquor cabinet and adds a little Whiskey to the mix. "So how about we skip the feeble banter portion of the evening and just cut right to the chase. What's up, apart from your dick?"
Mick hasn't been able to disguise the bulge in his loose fitting cotton pants; even so he seems on edge, parading one minute, distant the next.
"I don't know what you mean, I thought the feeble banter portion was part of tonight's attractions, before the cursing and blubbering," Mick's remarks are carefully controlled as he fills a tumbler with Whiskey chased blood and downs the mix in two quick draws.
"So what, are we playing guessing games now?" Josef toys with his own glass in his hand. "You used to be able to tell me anything, has that suddenly changed and nobody's bothered to notify me?" Josef's outer demeanour is couched in sarcastic breeze, but inside he feels his wounded pride like a stake through his chest, paralysing him into an armoury of cynicism.
Mick sees it too, sees the inner turmoil Josef tries so desperately to hide. This was supposed to be their night, the one night of week to set the stars on fire, and let light gather momentum.
Or love and love wasn't supposed to have happened.
Mick tries to distract himself from the situation by pulling a thin mat out from under the sofa, and working on a few yoga poses. Too late he realises he's only making the situation worse. This wasn't supposed to be about sex, but try telling that to Josef Kostan when your arse is halfway in the air.
Josef raises his hands in defeat as Mick quickly scrambles into a less inviting position. "Hey, look if you're not up for it tonight I've got half a dozen freshies on speed dial. I just thought, Friday night, you're always looking to blow off a little steam heading into the weekend-
"-It's not that," Mick interjects.
"Yes, because all that working out you've been doing is clearly just for your physique."
And there's nowhere left to go then other than the truth.
"Look, this thing we've got going on between us…" Mick clamours onto the lounge, and pours a double measure of scotch into his half empty glass of blood as he searches for the right words. "You come over here, we hang, I unload, we fuck, and it's all great, but do you ever get the feeling we're missing something?"
"Well I could blow you for an encore," Josef deadpans without skipping a beat and Mick laughs almost in spite of himself.
"That isn't what I meant."
"I know." Josef shifts into Mick's space, one arm snaking behind Mick's head as he presses his lips against Mick's own. And there have been a thousand other kisses before this, but somehow this one is different, a distillation of feelings that have built for decades, all honed into a single warm, wet sensation.
Mick's breath is coming heavy as he breaks away and suddenly he's making an expression like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth in tiny O shaped gulps. "Jesus, when did you learn to kiss like that?"
"About thirty seconds ago." Josef stifles a laugh as he watches Mick's response, and Mick counters with a well-aimed,
"Bullshit."
Josef drops his guard as he straddles Mick's lap, his fingers running through the curls of hair on Mick's chest. "You really want to know?"
For a moment Mick wants to say he doesn't, wants to pretend that kiss was just for him, as if Josef could feel the same way. All these years, all these moments, he wasn't supposed to have fallen this hard, but Josef is Josef and Josef doesn't do words starting with L.
"Yeah, I do."
Josef bends his lips to Mick's ear then, "I haven't kissed anyone like that since Sarah."
Mick doesn't respond he doesn't want to ruin the fantasy. He reaches for Josef instead, draws him down to his waiting lips, hoping for at least a pale comparison of the kiss they'd just shared.
Josef pulls away and looks at Mick, questioning. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"I heard." Mick tries to ignore the sound of his own heart hammering in his ears.
"And?"
"And what? You kissed me like your old flame, is that supposed to mean something?"
Josef buries his face in the palms of his hands, before gritting his teeth and raising his eyes skyward. "For the love of, do you need me to draw you a diagram? I have been in love exactly twice in over four hundred years. One of them was Sarah, you do the math."
"Oh." And they're back to impersonations of Nemo without a fish bowl. Mick's making a fool of himself; he can sense it - the stupid facial expressions, the pointed lack of understanding. Josef is in love with him, it's a fact his brain is rushing to process and any moment now he expects Josef to laugh it all off in a fit of cynicism, return them to the real world where conversations like this get stopped in their tracks.
"Well, are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit there doing that with your mouth all night." Josef places his hands on his hips and looks miffed at Mick's response. There's something else though, something buried deep inside, a fear that matches Mick's own. What if love means losing him? Like he'd lost Sarah, like Mick had lost Coraline and Beth. "Hey, I'm putting my heart on the line here you know."
"Okay, then let's look at this logically," Mick begins.
"Well at least I can rely on you not to do anything like let silly emotions get in the way." Josef counters. And that's the trouble; Mick has let his emotions get in the way, with Coraline, with Beth, dashing off into the fray, the knight in shining armour. Josef doesn't want logic and discussion, everything laid out in a neat little package. He wants fire and flames and that terror that clenches your gut and leaves you plastered with sweat as the voice in your head keeps screaming 'please don't let this end'.
"You don't think I'm emotionally invested in this? Mick leans forward, draws his arms around Josef's neck, and pulls Josef towards him. He rests his forehead against Josef's own. "It's all I can do to hang on right now; my head is spinning so fast. I never expected-"
"-And you think I did?"
Mick caresses the back of a hand along the side of Josef's face, feels the familiarity of his skin, the scent of blood on his breath this close. He stops to touch a small patch of stubble, a shaving spot Josef has missed; it feels rough under his fingers.
"Did what?"
The question is disarming in its simplicity. Mick wants things laid out; he needs to hear Josef say it. Josef who keeps his own heart just as tightly wrapped.
"To fall in love with you."
The dam breaks and their devouring one another with lips and tongues. Josef lowers Mick's track pants to his knees, and unzips his own. He has one hand on his own erection, the other gripping the shaft of Mick's cock and he's working them in unison as they ride up against one another , their bodies pressed tight together, wanting to crawl inside each other's skin, wanting to feel each other from the inside out. And it's good, better than good, they're on even ground now, the familiar touches of physicality, like it's always been, but more. There had always been more.
Josef suddenly leans back, draws one perfectly manicured finger nail across his chest, opening a wound that he quickly presses Mick's lips to before it has a chance to fully heal. He feels Mick bite then as the blood washes over his tongue and he comes in a frenzy of heat, and want, and need.
Mick's abdomen is slick with semen, his cock slowly losing its tumescence as his heart regains some semblance of normal rhythm. The faint scent of coppery blood still permeates his nostrils. He feels sated, complete. It's only then he realises Josef is still hard as a rock against his thigh.
"Shit, sorry."
Josef stops him before he can launch into one of his patented guilt trips. "You know I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," he says with his usual dry wit.
"Go on then," Mick smiles as he throws Josef a challenge, only to realise too late that Josef's idea of self-ministration is to drag him off the couch, and manoeuvre him onto his hands and knees.
The advantages of vampirism, Mick thinks as he feels his cock harden again almost instantaneously - zero refractory periods and the ability to fuck all night. It's one of the rare times he'll acknowledge that being a vampire has its moments. He wonders how much of that has to do with Josef, and what being with Josef will mean in the future. Years from now will he accept the core of his being as easily as Josef accepts his? I am vampire hear me roar. Will Josef even want that from him, to have such a fundamental part of himself shift in the opposite direction?
He's thinking too much. He begs Josef to hurry up, but Josef is rummaging in drawers for lubricant, and cursing under his breath.
"Just make do," Mick calls out and Josef is apt to agree, because he returns sans lubricant and spits into the palm of his hand instead. Mick braces himself against the couch as he concentrates on relaxing and bearing down slightly, the way Josef has taught him.
And there's a brief moment of pain, before a familiar sensation of pressure takes over, pressure that quickly changes to lightning bolts of electricity shooting down to the tips of his fingers and nerve endings that feel like they've been set ablaze with pleasure. He feels Josef begin to lose control just as he slips over the edge for a second time. Josef's teeth are embedded in his shoulder, his torso laid against Mick's back; shuddering with the sensations being drawn from his cock, and Mick grasps for Josef's wrist and bites down hard.
Josef withdraws, and Mick realises he'll have to clean up the floor and couch, but for now they're content to fall in a heap, and curl up in each other's arms. Legs draped across one another's, bodies sticky and replete with sweat.
"I could get used to this," Josef says as he traces the contours of Mick's jaw.
"This what?" Mick asks.
"This falling in love thing."
"Is that we're doing?" Mick is teasing then, but only partly. He's back to needing clarifications and reassurances.
Josef props himself up on one shoulder. "I thought we already established that?"
"Yeah, we did," Mick smiles and nods, it's you and me now buddy, forever and a day. But what did forever mean?
"I can hear your brain working from here you know." Josef smooths a hand over the top of Mick's head, "You make the most adorable little frowny face when you've got your thinking cap pulled on this tight."
"Oh shut up," Mick chides good naturedly, before admitting to his thoughts. "I was just wondering what forever means."
"How about we start with a feast of the good stuff tomorrow night, and work our way up to eternity from there." Josef parries and feels an elbow digging into his ribs.
"Smart ass," Mick retorts, before he breathes a sigh of relief, and reaches for Josef, drawing him back into an embrace. Things between them would progress in their own time, and in their own way.
On the wall the second hand of a clock ticks by, marking new beginnings.
Set the stars on fire, and let love gather momentum.