Chuck || Motorcity

[dieharder]

Comments

goddamnit.

[dieharder]

[The position is a little strange now, Chuck realizes, and with his legs to the side and the closeness between them he can tell he's practically sitting on top of Mike. But saying that being this close feels nice would be putting it very lightly, and if the alternative is not being close at all, even if they're still in the living area of the garage and should probably take care of what they do in a place where any of the guys could just walk right in, then Chuck's not really going to do anything else other than scoot closer with a contented sigh, hands moving down, one to Mike's neck and the other down his back.]

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEH

[livefaster]

[He pulls back, but just enough to lock the bridge of his nose against Chuck's, breathing calmly but with a certain tension that he can only connect to his brain turned to the fuzz of white noise in a bad transmission.

He leans up just enough to steal a kiss from him. Two. Just another half of one, barely any pressure against his lips.

He's finding it very difficult to let go of him.] We should-- [Eat our breakfast? Continue this somewhere else? Stop for now? Neither of them seem options that Mike likes, so he steals another kiss.]

GO TO YOUR ROOM

[dieharder]

[Chuck nods at Mike's words, at nothing apparently, or at whatever Mike meant to say, but doesn't really show any intention of stopping, or pulling away. He hums something in halfhearted agreement into the kiss, both his hands sliding across Mike's back by now.

He should probably be the voice of reason here. He should tell Mike to stop, and sit back, pry his hands away from Mike's back, stop himself from clawing at the fabric of his shirt, force himself away before he bites at Mike's lower lip one more time. But he doesn't want to - and if he doesn't want to, then nobody can make him.]

NNNNO

[livefaster]

[And that's the thing about them: whenever they should do something, they end up doing something else altogether. They've been going at it for a while and there's no way they both would feel like stopping soon. He turns his head a little, pretends to bite Chuck's cheek playfully.] You don't even know what I'm saying. [He's not complaining. Only teasing.]

BAD PUPPY

[dieharder]

[Chuck tilts his head, and glances sideways with a quiet snort.] No... I guess I don't.

[With a small smile and a will so reluctant it feels like it takes him forever to do it, he pulls away from Mike so he can look at him properly.] So what were you saying?

WROOF

[livefaster]

[Mike grins and shakes his head, trying to look innocent but ending up looking like a rascal.] I don't really remember, either.

[dieharder]

[Chuck giggles, finding it (not easy, but still) easier to pull away from Mike now. He rests a hand over Mike's face playfully and gets up, moving his chair away with his foot so he can do that.]

We still should eat these anyway... [Now he thought about it, he wasn't so hungry anymore, which probably didn't help much in wanting to eat the now cold pancakes.]

[livefaster]

[Mike turns to bite lightly at Chuck's fingers, grinning. He dislikes the whisper of fresh air that immediately slips between them when a bit of their bodies disconnect, but he figures that he can reach for that warmth soon enough, so he slides his hand lower to rest it on Chuck's side, where he could move a bit more, but still not let go of him.

There's a bit of playful wryness on his lips as he talks in a low tone.] Would be a waste.

[dieharder]

Yeah. [He has his side turned to Mike, and doesn't really show any signs of moving away from Mike's grasp, even if he's not sitting down anymore. He pokes one of the pancakes in the pile, and offers with a shrug.] We can always try to heat them up again?

[livefaster]

I guess we could. [He's turning to the pancakes and considering it, but while eating them freshly done is something to be earnest about, to eat them cold or warm would be the same.

In the meantime he's still more entertained by the thin waist around his arm, which is why he makes a quick motion: nosing Chuck's shirt up and blowing a raspberry on his hip.]

[dieharder]

[Chuck wiggles and tries to move away on instinct, hand moving to pull his shirt down even as he giggles and laughs. He's trying to shoo Mike away, though it might not be as convincing when he's got a blush that goes down his neck and disappears into the collar of his shirt.] H-hey, stop that!

[livefaster]

[Mike laughs and has no intention of stopping. He just changes methods. Instead he uses his chin to dig at the slope by the jut of his hipbone, arm tightening around him.]

[dieharder]

[That only causes Chuck to squirm even more, muscles tensing where Mike's touching and shoulders slumping so that he's curling up slightly over him. He moves his hands to Mike's shoulders and clings, all the while going through an unusually quiet giggling fit.]

[livefaster]

[Distraction acquired, Mike rests his head against Chuck's side, and takes a big breath. He feels genuinely happy, so he allows himself this little break from all the responsibilities he set himself to do. Right then, he had Chuck right next to him, smiling and laughing because of him, fingers tight on his shoulders.

He asks his own mind to at least imprint this moment in his memory.

He peeks up, grinning at Chuck.] I'll behave for now.

[dieharder]

[Chuck's giggles calm down into a sigh, and he moves a hand to play at the tips of Mike's hair.]

For now? [He shoots back an amused, lopsided grin at Mike, an arched eyebrow that might barely be visible from Mike's point of view.] That kinda sounds like a threat, bro. Should I worry?

[livefaster]

[The grin doesn't widen, doesn't close, doesn't vanish. But there's something there that gets an edge, while his eyebrows arch in an unsure manner. It's a dichotomy in itself but that really shows how it's based on the novelty of all of this.] I'd like to think of it more as a promise.

[dieharder]

[It's when Mike stills like this that, to Chuck, it seems that time slows down, a second stretches into eternity, and then compresses itself into a heartbeat when he opens his mouth to speak. And Chuck can't really offer much more than a bashful sort of smile, and a nod as he slowly looks away, moving to grab their plates so he can focus on something other than the thrum against his ribs, or the heat like fire underneath his skin.]

[livefaster]

[Mike smiles, and leaves Chuck to go and warm the pancakes back. As much as he liked to have him this close, he knows that in a matter of no time, he'll have him back there again. So he watches him quietly, resting his chin on the arms folded on the table, a little smile tugging at his lips. He feels a little silly, that he's itching at the next time his fingers reach to him, but he figures, in a sense, that it's a natural way to be - or so he hopes. It's so new and exciting and like everything that shows itself that way in Mike's eyes he can't have it quick enough.

Yet, with Chuck, he's willing to wait. Because there was no rush. They were always together, after all, and there were absolutely no plans to - and absolutely no plans that could - stray apart. Even if his foot keeps swinging under the table.]

[dieharder]

[Chuck scoots both their half-eaten pancakes onto the same plate and shoves it into the microwave. He takes a glance back at Mike while he waits, obviously not expecting him to be looking back, and he ends up giggling and shuffling awkwardly like an idiot. Good thing the pancakes don't take too long to heat up, and soon he goes back to the table, setting the plate down between them.

(It's cute, he thinks, and maybe there's something else to it too, the way their two halves of a pancake sit together in the plate, one covered in honey and the other in chocolate syrup, almost fitting together.)] Ta-dah!

[livefaster]

[His chin digs deeper into the fold of his forearm and arm when Chuck glances back, and his hint of a smile slid uncontrollably towards a wide one, hidden from view with the shield of his arm. It's... so weird, to be acting like this towards his best friend, but he can't help but find it the most natural thing of all, could really not pinpoint any fault from acting that way.

He raises his head when Chuck sets the plate on the table again, back straight, like an eager dog waiting for a meal. Because he was waiting for it - he was still hungry - and Chuck was back into his close vicinity again.] Thanks, Chuckles.

[dieharder]

No problem. [Chuck beams at Mike and picks up his fork, cutting a piece before the pancakes get cold again. In his experience, heating stuff up twice doesn't really do wonders as far as taste goes. (Not that his stomach makes any distinction anyway.)]

[livefaster]

[Mike does the same, wrinkling his nose as he chews thoughtfully, evaluating the pancake's taste after the second time it's heated. The honey syrup had melted into honey goo, stickier than before, and Mike takes a while taking it off his teeth with his tongue with his mouth closed, making a face.

Still, it's good - not the best, as before, but still pretty decent.] 'ood?

[dieharder]

Mmhm-- [Through a mouthful of pancake, Chuck can only nod at the question, though it kind of breaks into a giggle when he looks at Mike. He coughs a little, but manages to swallow down the piece in his mouth before he points at Mike's face, still grinning.] Your face...!

[livefaster]

PFfff-[Mike does a struggle to swallow before he starts laughing. He shows his hands, turned upwards with a shrug, as if it excused him.] Hey! The honey is sticky!

[dieharder]

[He's still laughing while cutting up the rest of his own pancake, his teeth coated in chocolate again.] Still funny!

[And of course, he's not forgetting the whipped cream. Which he shows no intentions of sharing, by the way he's covering his pancake with an alarming amount of it.]