impala_chick: (BoB || Web)
[personal profile] impala_chick
Title: fingertips puttin' on a show
Pairing: Webster/Liebgott
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 2,682
Summary: David has a thing for Joe's hands. Joe has a thing for David's strength. It's supposed to be easy for them in Austria, on the back end of the war, except Joe can't get it up.
A/N: For the Haguenau is for Lovers prompts hands + muscle + flush; and the Bad Sex Bingo square can't get it up.

Fic on AO3.


David is standing idly by while Joe explores the huge kitchen of some Nazi fuck’s house in Austria. It's ridiculously opulent, with fancy black and white tile backsplash and deep green cabinets with gold accents. He and Joe have the whole place to themselves, and David is sure they will be alone for at least a couple of hours. It’s the middle of a warm, sticky day, and most of the guys have taken off for the lake.

Joe said he didn’t want to go swimming, though, so the pair of them started wandering around the neighborhood instead. The water called to David like a siren’s song, but Joe’s long fingers and clever mouth called to him more. The lake would still be there when Joe was done.

“Surprised Speirs hasn’t been here yet. You want any of this before he pilfers it?” Joe says as he pulls open drawers to scoff at the silver.

David shakes his head in the negative. He’s too busy spinning in a slow circle, taking in the way golden light is streaming in through the big bay windows on the west side of the kitchen. It seems so fucking unfair that this used to belong to someone who absolutely didn’t deserve it. At least Easy is here now, to keep the fascists from retaking any of their possessions. He kind of wants to blow it all up, just to make sure no one can come back.

But. Maybe it would be better to get some use out of it first. He should get to do what he likes after all they’ve been through. After all they’ve seen.

The thing is, David has this secret, stupid fantasy where he and Joe get to live together after the war. He imagines somehow buying them a house with a big, fancy kitchen like this one. He can see them sitting at their kitchen table every morning, arguing about whatever’s in the paper over their cups of coffee. He likes to picture himself lifting Joe onto the counter, while Joe puts his hands all over him.

They’ve always fucked hard and fast, partly because they don’t want to get caught and partly because they’re usually so desperate for it by the time they have a chance to be alone that it doesn’t take long. And David enjoys it like that.

But in this big, fancy kitchen he wants to pretend they have all the time in the world. He longs for Joe’s touch, for Joe’s hands.

“C’mere,” he says softly, and reaches for him.

Joe looks up with an eyebrow raised.

“Why?” Joe seems skeptical, but he takes David’s hand anyway. “This stupid ass kitchen doing it for ya?”

“You do it for me,” David says.

He’s not joking, but Joe starts laughing anyway. “Shit, don’t get all mushy on me.”

David pulls him forward until their bodies are flush against each other.

“Can I try something?” David says, his tone serious.

Joe’s smile is still firmly in place when he shrugs, as if saying sure, why not.

David wraps his arms around Joe’s ass and lifts him up, using his arms to wrap Joe’s legs around his hips. Joe makes a surprised sound and grabs onto his shoulders. He walks a few steps forward until he can set Joe gently on top of the marble counter. Joe is eye level with him now, his grin even wider than before.

“You’re pretty strong, you know that?” Joe teases.

“Shut up.”

David rolls his eyes before he grabs Joe’s wrist. He gently brings Joe’ fingers to his lips and kisses Joe’s knuckles. He watches the smile slip from Joe’s face as he stares at David’s mouth.

“Tell me what it is about this place that you like. This fancy stuff remind you of your childhood home? Is it all the marble?” Joe says, his voice much quieter than before.

“Joe, just let me…” David trails off, not sure what exactly he’s trying to say. His mouth can be put to better use anyway.

He kisses Joe then, his hands gripping Joe’s hips. At first Joe doesn’t really respond, his mouth slightly open but still against David’s. David doesn’t want to stop, but he will if Joe wants him to.

He pauses, a hair’s breadth away. He can feel how hesitant Joe is, but he doesn’t know why.

Joe moves his hand to David’s cheek, and uses his thumb to press down on David’s bottom lip. Then Joe presses in close again, his lips still wet from David’s mouth. His kiss is devastatingly gentle, his mouth moving slowly so that he can tilt his head. He licks David’s bottom lip, and then David surges forward, his tongue seeking Joe’s. Joe moves one hand to the back of David’s neck. His fingers are warm and commanding against David’s skin, holding him steady. His other hand pushes into David’s curls, and David moans.

David’s fantasy is colliding with reality, and he feels his dick pushing against his zipper in triumph. He desperately hopes Joe will keep on indulging him. Maybe for just a few more moments they can pretend they’re home, safe and secure in their post-war life.

“Hold still for me,” Joe commands. He tugs a little harder, tilting David’s head back enough to make him break the kiss.

“Goddamn,” David curses under his breath. He watches a teasing smile spread across Joe’s face. He’s all teeth, like a shark.

He lets go of the back of David’s neck so that he can put his knuckles to David’s lips.

“Kiss me,” he says, still holding David’s hair with his other hand.

David tips forward as much as Joe will allow and kisses the knuckle of Joe’s middle finger. He lets his bottom lip snag against Joe’s skin and drags his open mouth over the back of Joe’s hand, tasting the salty tang of his skin.

David knows this hand has pulled the trigger of Joe’s M1 countless times. He remembers that this hand has jerked him off roughly in extraordinary places like Haguenau and Nuenen. Joe’s hands even held him in the dark once or twice, and put a cigarette to his lips more times than he cares to admit. These hands are capable of both great violence and devastating tenderness.

David loves Joe’s hands. He wants them in his mouth.

He widens his lips and sticks out his tongue, waiting. Joe’s eyes turn dark, his lids hooded as he puts his pointer finger on David’s tongue.

“This what you want?”

David nods weakly. Joe presses down, and slips his index finger in alongside his first.

David swirls his tongue and sucks, pulling Joe’s fingers deeper into his mouth. Joe bites his lip, his attention completely focused on David. A thrill goes up David’s spine, and he sucks harder. He pushes his tongue in between Joe’s fingers, gliding between them until they’re spit-soaked.

That’s when he remembers he hasn’t touched Joe’s dick yet.

He reaches between them, palms the place where he expects Joe’s hard cock to be. He finds him eventually, but he’s definitely not hard. David feels his chest clench up as cold dread slithers through him and settles in his stomach like a stone. He must have done something wrong, something that Joe doesn’t like.

Joe mumbles something incomprehensible, and David lets Joe’s fingers fall from his mouth.

Before David can say anything, Joe narrows his eyes and says, “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Do you not like… we can stop.” David trips over his words. He can’t bring himself to ask Joe if he’s done with him. He removes his hands and makes to step backwards, but Joe clamps David between his thighs to stop him.

“This is so embarrassing,” Joe hisses. “Fuck.”

David grips onto the countertop on either side of Joe’s legs and blows out a steadying breath. He has no idea what Joe’s trying to say. Maybe all the violence has changed David’s face and made him into something unattractive, or even worse, Joe’s grown bored of him.

“Whatever it is, I swear to God I’ll fix it. Do I have bad breath?” David can’t keep the helpless high-pitched panic out of his voice.

“Stop. I’m trying to tell you. Look, this has never happened to me before.” Joe lets go of David’s hair, and both of his hands fall onto his own thighs. He scrubs his palms up and down a few times, and then meets David’s gaze.

“I can’t get it up, okay? It’s not you. It’s really not you.”

“How long has it been like this?” David asks quietly. Now he’s not panicking anymore, but he is concerned. Even if the problem isn’t because of him, he feels some responsibility to find a solution.

“Uh. I guess. Landsberg.”

“Oh my God,” David breathes without even meaning to. It dawns on him that they haven’t done anything physical together since Haguenau. Joe must not have been able to jerk off either, even though David definitely has. It's how he takes the edge off. But he should have had the decency to notice something was off with Joe instead of taking care of himself.

“I’m so sorry,” David says guiltily. “I should have realized before now. I should be helping you.”

“Fuck you. This is why I didn’t tell you. It’s not something you can fix, alright? I think I just need some time.”

David looks around at their comically lush surroundings with fresh eyes and grimaces. He might have been living his domestic fantasy, but the reality is that they’re both sitting in the middle of a house owned by people who are connected in some way to the Landsberg camp.

“Being in this Nazi house is probably not helping.”

“Yeah, maybe not. But you looked so… I don’t know.” Joe pauses, his face wistful. He glances at David and bites his lip. “It was like you were somewhere else. I want to be there, wherever you went.”

“I was thinking about us after the war. We had our own kitchen. Forget it. It was stupid anyway.”

Joe shakes his head, a soft smile on his face. “You like playing house, huh?”

David can’t take the teasing right now. His hands are still shaking from either fear or adrenaline, he’s not sure. At least he doesn’t feel overwhelming dread anymore.

“We don’t have to do this right now. Let’s just go back to looking around.”

Joe’s face turns serious and he puts a finger under David’s chin. “It’s okay, Web. Let me go there with you. I don’t have to get off, alright?”

David blows out a breath, skeptical. “Really?”

Joe nods. “Yeah. You’re still pretty as hell, even if my dick is broke.”

That makes David laugh, a shaky, breathy thing that’s more a release of tension than anything else. David gets his hands on Joe’s thighs, gripping him tight just to keep himself steady.

“Take my fingers again,” Joe says, wasting no time. “I know you’re still hard from that shit.”

To punctuate his point, Joe moves his knee until he brushes over David’s half-hard cock. Maybe this proves David is the greedy one, but he’d take anything Joe’s willing to give him. Even right now, when Joe doesn’t want anything from him.

David opens his mouth, his eyes locked on Joe’s. Two fingers slide over his tongue and down his throat. David sucks and licks around them, gagging when Joe pushes in deeper.

“Good boy.”

David tries to gasp from the shock of hearing Joe speak so casually, but he chokes on Joe’s fingers instead.

Joe slides his free hand around the back of David’s neck, down his clothed bicep, then down his back. He starts fucking David’s mouth with his fingers, fast enough to make drool drip down David’s chin.

“Unzip your pants,” Joe says.

“Yeah,” David pants around Joe’s fingers. He pops the button and unzips his fly, and then reaches for his own cock.

Joe pushes his hand away, and pulls his fingers from David’s mouth.

“What did ya think you were getting these fingers wet for?”

Then Joe reaches into David’s pants and palms his dick. David feels ashamed that he’s so hard already. He should be more sympathetic and stop making this moment all about him. But Joe’s hand feels so damn good and he’s so wound up already.

He groans and gives in, tilting his hips away from the counter so that Joe can more easily maneuver his wrist. David looks down and watches as Joe’s wet fingers make a fist around David’s length. He easily slides up and down, his grip nearly too tight and absolutely perfect.

“You gonna come like this?” Joe asks, sounding eager.

“Put your fingers back in my fuckin’ mouth and I might,” David manages through gritted teeth.

“Fuck yeah.”

Joe blessedly uses the hand that isn’t wrapped around David’s dick to shove three fingers into his mouth. He feels his lips stretching out around them to make room, his mouth soaking wet and begging to be filled.

Joe pushes down on his tongue and makes him gag. His whole body locks up when that happens, and his skin feels too tight as his brain goes quiet. When he finally can take a breath again, his whole body buzzes with pleasure. He feels his balls tightening up already.

“God, yeah,” David mumbles around Joe’s fingers as he squeezes his eyes shut. Joe keeps them pushed deep, but he doesn’t move them. He lets David swirl his tongue around them and between them, worshipping them with his tongue. Joe works his cock at the same time, the wet sound so obscene echoing around the empty kitchen. He twists around the head of David’s cock and keeps up an impeccable rhythm, and it feels almost as good as fucking Joe’s ass.

Joe groans then, the sound so guttural and sexual that David opens his eyes to look at him. He looks mesmerized, his mouth hanging open and his eyes dark. Even if David knows he’s not hard, it’s enough to have his attention completely on him like this. Like David is still something worth looking at.

David shouts around a mouthful of Joe’s fingers when he comes.

“Thatta boy,” Joe says softly as he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on his pants. David looks down, and realizes he shot his load onto the no-longer-pristine cabinet near Joe’s knee.

David laughs, his body shaking from the strength of his orgasm.

“What?” Joe asks.

“I was thinking earlier that I wanted to fuck up their kitchen. And we did, sort of.”

Then Joe bursts out laughing too. “Ah, so your fantasy wasn’t totally boring after all.”

“Very funny.” David shoves Joe playfully and tucks his dick back into his pants. His whole body is tingling pleasantly, the afterglow keeping his guilt at bay.

Joe makes to jump off the counter, but David stops him with one hand on his thigh.

“I’ll wait, you know,” David says earnestly.

“For what?”

David looks down at Joe’s lap. “Until you’re ready.”

Joe rolls his eyes, but that does nothing to hide the fact that he looks impossibly fond. He bites his lip and ducks his head.

“Whatever,” he says simply, and shoves at David’s shoulder. David doesn’t give an inch. He puts his two fingers to David’s lips as if he’s trying to shut him up, and David kisses them.

“I’m serious,” David adds.

“Okay, Web. Jesus.” Joe grins. His cheeks are flushed and his lips still look kiss-swollen from earlier. If David didn’t know better, he’d have guessed that Joe just came. Guilt is starting to creep in, but he shoves that feeling down in favor of memorizing Joe’s face.

David reluctantly lets him off the counter after that. As they start walking leisurely through the house together, Joe takes his hand and squeezes it. They’ve never held hands before, so it feels like Joe is trying to say something monumental.

It’s David’s job to puzzle it out. And he will, eventually.
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