Jose's eyes are softer now a days.

It's strange around here. At times it feels like nothing has changed at all, yet when I wake up to warm sunlight and his pale, toned body pressed so tightly against mine as if he's afraid I'd disappear, those are the times were I know nothing will ever be like it used to.

I'm not complaining, though sometimes the nostalgia does hit. In fact, I quite like where we are, even if the road here wasn't ideal. We got through it.

"Guys!"

His voice draws my attention from the needle and thread in my hands.

"Oi! What do you want now you moron? Can't spend a few minutes a day by your self anymore?" I smirk into my words as he approaches. Usually, I wouldn't be the one starting the banter, but today just feels like one of those days. One of those days where I really need him to make me feel something keen to normal.

Jose glares at me for a moment, and I'm kind of curious as to what he wanted now, but I don't ask, opting to stare blankly at him. Waiting.

It doesn't take long for him to crack. He's not a big fan of silence, especially when its in the same room with me. Usually we have music playing in the background, or we'd have the TV on, but since he just got home, neither electronic item was currently powered up. So the silence sang between us for a long moment's pause before he finally sighed and started talking.

"Why did I fall for someone like you again?"

He speaks the words like a question and I want to laugh, but I can't. The sound won't come out despite my genuine amusement.

I set my needle and thread aside (A little habit that I found comforting, despite promising myself I'd never touch anything remotely associated with making shoes again) and pushed myself from the chair I'd been occupying, walking slowly towards him with a smug smile.

"Well I don't know, how about you tell me?"

Once I was close enough to reach, I brought my left hand up to run it over his face. He'd gotten taller since we'd both left prison. Is that normal? He already towered over me before, but now he's even bigger. I'm just in luck that I've seemed to grow right along with him, keeping our bodies perfectly matched (Though it wasn't on purpose, I could appreciate genetics). I'm not sure why but the fact that I had to look up to see his face didn't bother me half as much as it used to. Even when we're angry at each other, or arguing. He's never once laid anything but a gentle hand on me.

Jose's face turned up in a mock-thoughtful look as he moved his head so that his check rubbed against the palm of my hand. He looked like an over-sized cat trying to grab attention, but he was actually just that. I couldn't keep from smiling at him though.

We'd changed somewhere along the way. Not drastically or anything, we weren't perfect and certainly not with each other, but we'd turned softer I'd noticed.

His hands are raking and soft when they land on my hips, rubbing slight circles before sliding back and around my waist. Jose picks me up with ease and I don't hesitate to wrap my legs around him, both holding him close, and myself up.

"Maybe it was the fact that you never feared me? Or the fact that you took the time to see me? Or even the fact that somewhere along the way I respected you and actual had to work to get you to respect me back." muttered Jose. His head was moving back and forth, as if tempted to cling to my open neck but not really wanting to give in so easily.

I make a show of moving my head to the side, letting more of my already marked skin to show for him.

"Respect? How is what you showed me 'respect'?" I ask teasingly. He knows I'm just tugging on his short chain, and doesn't rise to the bait, but he does grin at me, his silver white hair falling into his eyes as they go all doe-eyed like they usually do when he thinks about me.

"Guys, I didn't treat you like I treated Io."

His words only give me pause for a second before I nod. I didn't really like him for those times where he humiliated the poor boy, but in the end that place had marked us all. Even now years later, I can't blame another prisoner for his actions.

My nod must have pleased him, or cracked him, because he lunges forward suddenly and I gasp when his teeth bite into my already bruised neck.

"Nyyaahh. Jose!" I'm trying to keep from out right moaning and instead try to scold him, but the tingle of the pain and the work of his tongue make it hard. Jose licks at the spot he'd bitten, working the skin like a massage therapist. He had the most wicked tongue I'd ever felt.

My attempts to remain quiet where thrown into the water when his hands found their way from my hips to my ass, holding me up and pressuring the areas he'd bitten just this morning. He knew just where to hit to have me feeling everything from anxiety to pleasure. I was basically squirming against him now, trying to keep myself up by wrapping my arms around his neck but also not able to resist running my fingers through his soft hair.

"Jose!" I call sharply when he makes one foul lick from the base of my neck, over my adam's apple, all the way to my chin making me throw my head back and present the full stretch of my neck to him. Jose took full advantage as he nipped at my jaw line with his lips, kissing up to my ears before his lips took mine almost violently.

I loved him like this. In the edge between being gentle and being aggressive. I know fairly well that he never showed this kind of care for anyone else, not even before he'd been put in prison where we met.

The gentle side wasn't a conscious though like I had thought the first time he'd fucked me in my cell three years ago. I'd learned that it was an instinct, an unavoidable reaction to caring about what I've been through and what he'll soon put me through.

The aggressive side was when he'd noticed that he'd been doing something sweet and wanted to counter himself for doing so. This was used more to establish his place as my 'master' a sort of side affect to living in a prison for a few years.

I was more than satisfied with both sides of my lover.

"Oh!" I gasp when the hands that had been gripping my ass are now sliding down my thighs and reaching the back of my knees as he encourages me to let my grip on his hips go. I do so, trusting he'd know what he was doing.

He did.

With my arms still around him, I didn't fall, but our lower bodies lined up in a delicious way. The loud moan that left my mouth was spoken directly into his ear, something I knew drove him wild when he was pleasing me.

He kept his hold on the back of my knees, spreading my legs a little farther while I was suspended in the air by my arms around him. Our groins pressed together and I could feel him, hard and practically throbbing against my own. Jose pulled at my legs when it suited him, pressing us together tighter. It was almost painful how close we were, but what was really painful was being unable to stop my voice.

I knew what I sounded like in moments like these. Jose had actually went so far as to tape us one night, tying me to the bed, and making me listen to the sound of us fucking. Listening to myself was mortifying, yet my voice and his had aroused me without Jose even needing to get anywhere near me.

He seemed to want more though.

"Guys, bed." Jose grunted. He eased my legs around him again, and I got the hint and hung on, laughing a little breathlessly when he started rushing us towards our room. As soon as he'd pushed the door open, I was brutally thrown to the bed. I gasped as I bounced a little, still sort of chuckling at him.

For someone so scary, he was so cute. Though I'd never say that out loud again. The only time I'd ever said so had actually led to his taping our vocals of that night. I still kept the tape and listened to it when he was in a particular long case, but he didn't need to know that.

I'd already chucked my shirt away by the time he was on me again, his jeans unbuttoned and the zipper pulled down, but not quite off his hips. I could see his cock from here, realizing that he'd gone to work with no underwear again, but the thought was short lived. I had better things to occupy my mind with when Jose kissed me again.

I'm addicted to his kisses. I'd noticed a long while ago, and I often ask for them at random times, and I'm grateful that when I ask, all he does is smirk like he knows everything and proceed to making the simple kiss I asked for into a passionate, flame-inducing lock of lips. I loved what he did to me.

"I love you."

It came from me tonight. A loud, hurried whisper as if I was trying to get it out before it ran away, but he didn't stop nor even acknowledge that I'd said anything at all.

The only sign I had that told me he'd heard, was the hand resting over my heart.