Norman Jayden (
leanonstuff) wrote2011-10-14 08:21 pm
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PSL post for daughterless
[The NCR had sent Norman to the Vault because the area was surrounded by Fiends, and he was damn good at blending among the various "criminal" groups around the Mojave. No way an ordinary NCR trooper would be able to get inside without being attacked. And according to their intelligence, exactly what was inside was of such great importance that they couldn't possibly wait to go after it just in case Caesar's Legion got wind of it and acted first. Norman was searching for a box of special bottles that appeared to be beer or vodka bottles, but were actually filled with a chemical that, when introduced into a water supply, could spread a deadly bacteria that would wipe out anyone who drank the contaminated water for at least a month.
Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.
10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]
Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.
10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]
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Don't worry about it.
[The shirt soon joins his jacket on the ground, leaving his own chest bared to Joel's view now. He has a few nasty scars of his own, evidence of missions gone wrong or encounters with creatures while raiding vaults for the NCR. Otherwise he's pale and rather thin, having a build more expected of a spy than an ordinary soldier. If he weren't so eager to place his hands back on his companion's chest, he might take some time to feel self-conscious. Instead, he lets his hands wander once again, and leans back in for another kiss.]
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He leans into Norman's touch, feeling lust coiling hot and fierce in his veins as Joel slides his hands over the other man's shoulders, more tentative now, less certain of what he's doing as he kneads at lean muscle over bone with callused hands. Tracing the curve of his spine and the raised skin of scars as he runs his hands down Norman's back, Joel hesitates when his fingers brush the waistband of his pants, not sure where to go from here.]
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For awhile, Norman is happy enough to kiss and touch, the feeling of Joel's calloused hands on his bare skin warming him up and causing his cock to begin to stiffen in his pants. He feels the other man hesitate at the waistband of said pants, and decides to make it easier on him by unbuttoning them himself. Norman then pulls away from the kiss, reluctantly, and decides he should probably say something at this point.]
I guess we could both... take off our pants now. If you're sure about this.
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Uh, I guess... might as well. [He isn't, well, he isn't totally ignorant about how this sort of thing works. Hell, he'd been a raider once. Plenty of his fellows had had their own preferences-- men, women, brahmin, who the hell knew, and they didn't give a damn who saw them doing their business. But knowing in theory isn't the same actually doing the deed, and Joel temporarily shunts embarrassment to one side because he wants to be clear on this.] How far do you wanna take this?
[It's obvious that Norman's the more experienced of the two of them. Having initiated it, Joel doesn't mind if he continues to take the lead.]
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We can stick to hands. Or if you wanted... I could use my mouth. [That isn't something he's done all that often, but now isn't like those other times. He wants Joel to feel good, and... maybe it's also about giving him incentive to stick around. He isn't really sure still. If nothing else, it's easier to just shrug it off as a base, physical attraction and leave it at that. Easier when he doesn't know if he'll be left on his own in just a few short days.]
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I-- Alright. [I'd like that, he almost says, but doesn't think he can quite get the words out without turning red again. It's stupid, ain't like he's some blushing virgin doing it for the first time. He can-- he does appreciate Norman taking it slow, making sure he's on board every step of the way, but Joel isn't one much for words, and this is probably more talking than he'd ever done before sex.
In the past it was usually just-- a touch here, sidelong glances across the room before they found some private place and the clothes came off, doing whatever felt good in the heat of the moment. And hell, maybe that'll work just fine here. Joel finds himself leaning forward, wanting to show Norman what he can't quite bring himself to say-- I want you.
Reaching out to tilt Norman's head forward, Joel doesn't go for another kiss, instead pressing his mouth to the curve of his jaw, tracing a long wet line down his companion's neck. At the same time, he tugs down on on Norman's pants with his other hand, finger's sliding under the waistband, thumb tracing down the line of his hip.]
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It has been a very long time since he's done this, and he can't remember a time when he's found his partner this attractive. It's doing a number on him, so Norman is more than happy to reach down and work on removing his pants, lifting his hips as he pulls them down and out of the way so he can free his stiffening length and give Joel better access to explore.
Once his own pants are out of the way, Norman's hands wander to the waistband of Joel's in return, fingers working open the button but going no further for the moment.]
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He wants to explore, to learn the lines and planes of the other man's body under his hands. Joel runs a hand down the pale skin of Norman's thigh, letting it rest on his knee as he presses a kiss against the join of neck and shoulder, feels his beard scrape against skin as he ducks his head lower to nip lightly at Norman's collarbone. Against all odds, they're still alive, both of them, and that seems to Joel to be something worth celebrating.]
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And then Norman is hit by the sly desire to give Joel the first taste of what it feels like to be truly intimate with another man. Kissing and touches here and there are one thing, what he has in mind is another.
While his companion is distracted offering him that pleasant attention, Norman reaches a hand down and curls his fingers around Joel's length, giving it a few firm strokes.]
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Shit-- [He leans into the other man's grip, breathing ragged. Damn, that had felt good, and it's been so fucking long...] Don't stop.
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I wasn't planning on it.
[But he does lighten his grip slightly so that he doesn't accidentally finish Joel off too quickly. It's been awhile for both of them, and he wants it to last as long as possible. For now, his fingers slide from the shaft to the head, his thumb occasionally rubbing teasingly over the tip. There really is something incredibly satisfying about hearing Joel's heavy breathing in response to his attentions.]
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Their position is a little awkward-- facing each other, knees touching, and with a sigh, Joel lets himself lean into Norman, relaxing the usual line of tight tension in his shoulders. He's not used to letting other people take charge, to put himself in their hands; his hands twitch slightly, fidgeting. He's tempted to-- to pull the other man into his lap, maybe, or press him down onto the mattress. Instead, he keeps himself occupied, letting his hands wander down Norman's sides, and then the sharp line of his hip (god, it's a wonder that the other man would even want him, scarred and weathered bastard that he is), tentatively moving over his groin and wrapping callused fingers around his erection-- wanting to return the favor, to touch and be touched in turn]