Skwisgaar stands at Toki's door, bruised, and bloody, makeup off, in his usual clothes. He's here for more than sex, so he figures he'll start out looking like his usual self, albeit a somewhat beaten version of his usual self.
He steels himself, getting ready to tell Toki how he feels, he hasn't told anyone how he feels about anything since he can remember. Finally, he takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door.
"Comings in," calls Toki's voice, and he enters, at the sight of him the young Norwegian gasps.
"Whats happens tos yous, Skwisgaar?" asks Toki brows knitting, reaching up to touch the blonde's face.
The Swede flinches, a blush starting on his cheeks.
"Uh, it ams long stories," he says, nervously touching his bloody lip, "cans Is comes in?"
"Yous acting real funnys," Toki responds, giving him an odd look, "buts okay."
"Wells," says Skwisgaar, glancing nervously at the brunette, "I's kinds ofs havings a somethings to ams tellings you?"
"Is you reallys okay, yous nots actings likes usual."
"Ja... wells I's likings yous, Toki."
"Is knows dat, Is nots stupids, yous cans pretends whatevers yous likes, but easys to tells," says the Norwegian with a smile.
"Nos, I means... I's likings you ins uh, mores den friends ways?"
The Norwegian's eyes widen.
"Sos yous wantings tos have de sex wits me?"
"Yes, nos, maybes? Dildos... Is, ja, I wants tos havings de sex times withs you, buts Is wantings more den dat, Is loves you, Toki," Skwisgaar says, looking up at the other miserably.
Toki sits beside him, a big tanned hand settling on the taller man's knee cap. The rhythm guitarist's brow knits, and he looks earnestly at the other.
"Does you means dat, Skwisgaar, cause if dis is somes kinda jokes Is goings to bes reallies havings angries feelings," he said, looking at the other as firmly as he could manage.
The blonde blinked, and shook his head, gazing at his boots.
"Nej, littles Toki," he says softly, "I's meanings it."
"Sos yous wantings to be mys goilfriends ladys?" Toki says, bouncing up and down excitedly on the bed.
The Swede cracks a smile, "Boysfriends man, Toki, Is nots a lady," he says, trying to hide his pleasure and amusement and sound annoyed.
"Ja, whatsevers," says Toki, waving his hand dissuasively.
'Sos... I guess yous likings me toos?"
"Ja," says Toki simply, scooting close enough he was practically in the blonde's lap, "I's lovings you toos," he adds, leaning in to kiss him softly on the mouth. The gesture is so sudden and unexpected that the Swede stiffens in surprise for a moment before he returns the gesture, fingers threading through soft chestnut hair as he kisses back.
The kiss is a little clumsy, both shy at this first touch with its million implications. The blonde flicks his tongue over Toki's lower lip. Toki kisses back, catching Skwisgaar's lower lip between his teeth, tugging ever so lightly, and the ache from the bruise feels perfect.
It's not long before their gentle explorations become purposeful, heat and need flickering through them,. Skwisgaar pulls Toki closer, pulling him into his lap facing him. He swears to god he's going to melt, the soft warmth of those lips against his. He's tugging helplessly at the brunette's shirt, trying to get it off without having to break the kiss, as denim clad hips rock together. Toki whimpers, and Skwisgaar swears to god, one more noise out of him and he won't be able to take it a moment longer, and he'll slam him back on the bed and fuck him like he's wanted to fuck him for god knows how long. Still, even drugged with lust he's strangely patient, exploring the planes of muscle on the younger man's body, memorizing the scent of his skin cinnamon, wood shavings, glue, soap. His hair smells wonderfully clean as he nuzzles his neck, trailing butterfly kisses down onto muscular shoulder. Toki strokes a high cheekbone, almost shocked at the warmth of the Swede's skin, he's always expected him to be chilly as the white marble his skin resembled, but it isn't, soft and warm, and alive with a faint flush of pink.
"Yous beautifuls," Toki murmurs, gently running his fingers through the other man's hair. . The Swede looks up at him, surprised, processing for a moment before kissing him again, a long fingered hand undoing the other man's jeans.
"Nos, yous beautifuls," he responds, a hand tracing the contours of the guitarist's lean form. He was like an angel, he swore to god, those light blue eyes, puipils dialated with desire, and his lips parted. He brings out so many instincts in the Swede he barely knows what to do, he wants to protect him, and he wants to devour him, he wants to make love to him and he wants to fuck him senseless. He wants to do everything with him, but most of all he wants to make it incredible for his newly acquired lover.
The Norwegian's pants are off in a few moments, and the Swede's follow. They're naked together, hips grinding desperately together, as they clutch one another in exquisite need. This is passion, this is love, no matter how fucked up the beginning, this is love. Hands on silken flesh, lips seem designed to fit together. It's like finding the missing piece of his heart, like the end of a pain he'd forgotten he was in, like catching a glimpse of the divine. They need each other so badly now, both whimpering, bucking closer trying to get more, both desperate for more contact.
"I's wants yous, Skwisgaar," moans Toki, gripping wavy blonde silk, "fuckings its, I's needings you."
Skwisgaar moans, startled to hear just the words he'd been aching for, jumping for the lube in the pocket of his abandon jeans.
"Yous sure abouts it?" he says, voice soft, reverent almost. He looks nervous, almost as if he's afraid the brunette will have doubts. He couldn't bear it if he had doubts.
"Is sures, Skwisgaar, nevers beens more sures," he insists, pulling him down for another kiss. The Swede swears to god he's going to fucking cry he's so happy, he lubes up his fingers, sliding one ever so gently into Toki. He's sweet, tender, dropping kisses over the younger man's jaw, working the digit gently, giving him plenty of time to adjust before slipping in another, hunting for his spot.
It doesn't take him long, and when he finds it... god, when he finds it, the other man bucks, and moans, and cries out, "Skwisgaar,"
Hearing his name, his name, from Toki. He thanks whoever might be listening for this moment, for Toki, for it all. He adds another finger, and he thinks he finally gets it, gets why people fall in love. Love can hurt you, love can make you really goddamn stupid, love can fuck you up in a million fucking ways, hell it's killed more than a few people, but right now, with Toki in his arms, nothing else matters. Here, for maybe just a moment, everything is right, everything is just... perfect. He takes out his fingers, and slick up his cock, spreading his legs and looking at Toki with a question in those big blue eyes, and Toki nods, and he pushes in, and he swears to Gibson this is the best thing he's ever felt. Pleasure burns through him, and he's moaning. Toki wraps his arms around the blonde's neck, silky hair pooling on the pillow, mouth open as he gasps in pleasure.
"Don'ts stops," moans the rhythm guitarist, "please, Skwisgaar, Is needs you."
"Is ams needings yous too, Toki," says the Swede, brushing hair from the Norwegian's face, taking a deep breath before he starts to move, slow and deliberate. "Tells me ifs I's hurts yous, okays?"
"Pfft, nots likes Is a virgin," says Toki smiling playfully and pulling him into another kiss. The Swede gives it a moment before starting to move in earnest. Toki groans, the hot velvety perfection of the Swede's cock in him is almost too much pleasure to handle. Toki puts a hand on his cheek, heart beating in his chest, as the Swede's hips move, rhythm perfect like something he's wanted all along.
They only have eyes for each other, tangled in the quilt, tangled together, bodies moving in perfect synchrony, speaking without speaking, bodies joined. Backs arch, and cries ring out. The Swede wraps a long fingered hand around the other man's cock. They're moving faster, out of control, but who the fuck needs control anyway?
The blonde's moving faster, fucking Toki the way he knows they both need it now, gasping, moaning. They're losing themselves in each other, drunk on each other's lips. The brunette can't tear his eyes from the blonde, those sharp beautifully aquiline features twisted with utter perfect ecstasy. They're both, gasping, needy, skin gleaming and flushed. This is beauty, this is love, this is what they've always needed.
Toki wraps his legs around Skwisgaar's waist, and the Swede takes it as an invitation, fucking him harder, wanting to push him over the edge, screaming, wanting to give Toki the best he's ever had, because this is the best Skwisgaar's ever had, and because he's just that fucking in love with the other man. He didn't think he was even capable of being in love, let alone being as much in love as he is now.
He shifts the angle of his hips, slamming into the other man's spot with every single thrust, hand matching the mad rhythm of his body. The brunette screams, arching his back.
"Ohs fucks, Skwisgaars rights dere," he cries before falling into Norwegian, pleading in his native tongue. It's too hot, too perfect. Skwisgaar knows he can't last with that gorgeous body under him, writhing, and the other man practically sobbing his name between bursts of Norwegian, so he redoubles his efforts desperate to get Toki off.
They rock against each other, wrapped up in each other, bodies moving to the primal rhythm of lust, earthy and ethereal in each other's arms. Heat's rising, and the room's spinning. It's like the best guitar solo you can imagine, it's metal and it's love, and it's god too perfect.
It's like brutal angels singing, it's like the world falling entirely into place, everything's going to explode. It's like the moment before a glorious cataclysm. Nails dig into white flesh, and Toki bites his lower lip, whimpering piteously as he tries to hold back his orgasm, wanting it to last. Skwisgaar cries out like an animal,
"Skwisgaar, Is gonna... ohs fucks Skwisgaar, Is goings tos..." whimpers Toki, clutching tat the other man as if afraid he'll disappear if he doesn't hold on tight.
"Ja, mes too," whines the blonde, every muscle in his magnificently lean body tensed, everything but Toki falling out of his consciousness, and the guitar solo's peaking, and it's they're almost there, white hot, ready to explode. They're quivering with pleasure, moving without conscious thought, just going, harder, faster, more, and more until then it comes, everything explodes, bliss consumes the world and they're the only one's left wrapped around each other, trembling with the after shock. They'd forgotten to breathe and they fight to catch their breath, bodies still entwined, sweat slicked skin against swear slicked skin.
Skwisgaar kisses him softly, murmuring "Tokis, yous ams justs... ja... fucks dats was likes words for goods, buts likes ways betters... likes somes words fors de goods deys nots comings ups withs yets."
"Ja, dats was... wowee," says Toki, looking utterly dazedly content.
"Is loves yous, Toki."
"Is loves yous too, Skwisgaar."