He tries so hard to be quiet, but his body betrays him, and he cannot prevent the sharp hiss of breath that slips out between his teeth. He knows his lover has caught it when Joe instantly goes still. But although Joe stops, he doesn’t pull out. They both know that won’t help at this point. Nicky’s immortality would simply undo all the time spent getting them here and they would be back to square one. So, Joe just breathes slowly and waits for a signal from his lover to proceed.
However, after the space of several heartbeats, Joe does offer a gentle, “Habibi?”
Nicky has no trouble detecting the faint thread of worry in his lover’s voice, and it both warms and irritates him. After all, they have been here many, many times before.
“Un momento.” His voice is low and distorted, spoken as it is through gritted teeth. He wills himself to relax, to let Joe in. He wants this, he reminds himself. Oh, how he wants it.
But his body stubbornly refuses to acknowledge that it has ever done this act. For all that he and Joe have been lovers for so long, that experience is worthless here, when his immortality hurls him back through the centuries, to a time when he was untouched by any hand other than his own.
Nicky feels as though he could weep. He can do this. He knows that. Only Joe is… just so much. It doesn’t seem to matter how long they take to ready him; his body still rebels each and every time. Nicky has been kissed, licked, stroked and touched until he is almost mindless with need, hips rutting uselessly into the bed.
His hands bunch the sheets tangled beneath him, knuckles whitening as he spreads his legs further, trying to ease the dull ache. “Please,” he murmurs. “Please, please.” It’s both a plea for his lover to proceed and for his body to submit to his will.
Joe moves again. A steady, inexorable slide, until finally Nicky feels the heat of him against his back and buttocks. Nicky groans and drops down onto his elbows, forehead pressed against the bed. He lets out a growl of frustration and releases the sheet to fiercely slap the mattress with his free hand.
Joe’s fingers close over his own.
Nicky can feel the tension in his lover’s frame. Joe is holding himself still again now he is fully seated, but at a cost. Even so, Nicky knows Joe will wait. He turns his head and ghosts his lips over scarred knuckles. Joe’s moves his thumb slightly to brush Nicky's mouth before he turns his head away again.
Nicky pushes his hips back slightly. Joe makes a sound that is barely human, and then gently rocks forward. They start like this. Slowly they build a tentative rhythm. Nicky still feels like he is being cored open, but with each cautious stroke of Joe’s cock the tension falls away and a new feeling takes its place.
Until now Nicky’s own cock has almost been an afterthought, a distraction. They both know it’s too much for him at the start, but right now in this instant he wants Joe’s hand on it.
He yanks his fingers out from under Joe’s and grabs onto Joe’s hand instead, almost over balancing as he clumsily tugs it down between his legs.
Joe gives a huff of gentle laughter. “All right my love, yes, yes. I have you.”
Nicky whines. Over stimulated, but gloriously so, as Joe’s sure, clever fingers stroke him.
It doesn’t take long after that. Nicky comes with a gasp, hips bucking as he spills into Joe’s hand. Joe continues to milk him through it as his rhythm stutters and he floods Nicky with his own release.
Nicky shivers when Joe withdraws but stifles a moan by biting bluntly into his wrist. Joe collapses onto the bed beside him, already reaching out for him. Nicky rolls into his embrace, any lingering discomfort already fading to memory. They press up against each over. Fingers entwined as they share soft kisses that spell out love in the language they know best.