"When One Word Says It All"

Title: When One Word Says It All

Pairing: Stuart/Vince

Rating: NC-17

Genre: PWP

Summary: One word, one name and a gesture asked for that leads to so much more - a PWP.

Author Notes: This story was a requested respite to Margo’s having to write a really difficult story. It’s an answer to her plea for something to smile about…. Thank you to Alexis for looking it over and Jade for the final beta - DESPITE her comment, “As long as you’re the crazy one and not me.” hehe….

Spoilers: None

When One Word Says It All

By xof

(January 13, 2004)

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“Vince.”

Quiet, a verbal nudge in the dark.

“Vinceeee.”

Tone still soft, but a bit of a mix - demand and plea.

What he wanted was clear - had become a shared gestured, an intimacy. Possessive and comforting in one.

One that Vince desired to provide, to take - to give.

The room now on full dark, not a light to break the embrace of night - the two of them rested side by side. Two together in one bed, their bed. Air cold enough to have them curled under the duvet, but not biting enough to cause either of them to be wearing a stitch.

“Vince….” Voice dropping-off in half sleep, a touch of disappointment intermeshed in the murmur.

Vince smiled for a brief moment, a beat in time - a realization of true happiness and contentment overwhelming his consciousness at being needed, wanted - and by this man. Knowing the power his touch could hold over Stuart, even in the middle of the night when the former King of Canal was his and his alone, was a heady thing.

Turning onto his side, Vince pulled Stuart’s body closer to his own - rolling him until his lover’s body was spooned with his…. Stuart’s back to Vince’s chest. At the first touch, both men sighed - the sounds a perfect chorus of their satisfaction at having the other near.

And again, it came. “Vince.” Stronger, more wakeful - holding more assurance that Vince was going to give him what they both wanted. The touch they’d happened upon innately, that now held them connected with more than fingers on skin.

Vince threaded his left arm under Stuart’s head, pillowing it as he pressed his face into Stuart’s curls. Inhaling deeply, he hummed out a slight pleased sound. He’d also adored Stuart’s hair, even before he had the freedom to touch and feel as he pleased. Again, he smiled as he felt Stuart shifting back against him - impatient for Vince to do the thing that Stuart desired.

Plaintive, the name came again. “Vinc…” Only to be cut off as Stuart breathed out a shuddering breath, Vince’s hand doing as it should….

Cover-warmed fingers traced the length of Stuart’s spine, a prelude to the song his blood would sing in but a moment. A moment that dawned in the dark between their bodies, as Vince’s fingers and hand covered him and teased between. Palm firm, molded to the curve of Stuart’s right cheek - becoming the source of heat that had the Irishman curling his toes. Vince’s hand cupping, fitted to Stuart’s bum - and fingers….

“Vincccceee.” Breathless and pleased, Stuart spoke in appreciation as Vince’s fingers finished the pattern of their bond. Each gently curled around, dipping into and inside the crease until the tips teased over his opening and down to his balls. Their presence was the usual end when both were too tired to do more.

The both of them, Vince and Stuart, matched along each other - chest to back, legs to legs and hand to arse.

Exactly how Stuart loved to fall asleep. Exactly how they both loved to wake…

And then, at times - exactly how they loved to start.

Like tonight, it was more than the comfort and connection. It was a promise of what could, what would be theirs. The threshold crossed with the feel of Vince’s hardening nipples against Stuart’s spine, the flesh of his cock pressing up and into the small of Stuart’s back…. The ever-so-slight, but glaringly pleasurable, curling of Vince’s finger as it circled over then dipped inside the opening to Stuart’s body.

A gasp, a moan, a yes - “Vince.”

Nipping at the back of Stuart’s neck, Vince felt the vibration of Stuart’s exclamation as it shook them both - firing their blood as quick as dry paper to an open flame. It gave him the impetus, the demand to take what he had in hand. With a panting low moan, Vince pushed Stuart forward - rolling him quickly beneath his own body until Stuart was being blanketed by Vince - pressed below and into the bed.

It was going to be quick, this. This that was riding them - this passion, this want. It seared and singed through their veins. Vince gasped to breathe even as Stuart moaned his name again, the “Vince” an invitation - one that echoed the motion of Stuart’s legs falling open as he spread himself for Vince. Thighs apart, wide - Stuart’s behind trusting back as he circled and thrust his hard cock into the bedding.

Vince grabbed Stuart’s left hand with his own, their fingers curled together over their heads as Vince used his right to help anchor his own driving hips. It was only moments but still they moved as if they’d been on the edge for hours. Frantic with the repetition of Stuart’s call, with hearing his name groaned, moaned and pleaded for - Vince reached out blindly, closing his eyes with relief as he felt the tube buried between the pillows that were now strewn about the bed.

The first push inside, one finger breaching the outer ring - and Stuart moaned. He arched up, fighting against the weight of Vince’s body even as he enjoyed the confining pressure of his lover’s frame. Slick, he encouraged Vince to do more - to add more, and quickly.

It didn’t need saying - his plea. They both knew what Stuart meant as another, “Vince,” passed his lips and mingled with the moist heat of his panting breath.

Vince hissed as his sensitive and sensitized hard-on reminded him with each pass against Stuart’s bottom, that it wanted inside. He pushed harder, more thoroughly into Stuart’s body - two fingers twisting even as they drove further into the slick, hot, tight vice surrounding. Blimey, would he ever not find Stuart’s constricting walls an awe inspiring surprise - that he was allowed, desired to come inside. As Stuart purposefully squeezed from the inside to catch and play around Vince’s fingers, the man knew he never would. A newness that was always fresh and never grew old by the passing days. Ever and for him….

“Vince!” Stuart cried aloud, fierce and desperate - his body arching as he shuddered with the harsh pleasure of Vince’s fingers pressing over his prostate until he saw stars. Now, it had to be now….

And then it was…. Vince, bare and warm - slick and hard. Inside, thrusting up and into Stuart as both men groaned and gasped together. Oh my god…. The thought blared through Vince’s tangled consciousness. He couldn’t stop, had to move. In and out, over and against. Time and again - even as Stuart growled and shivered with each pass inside, each nudge against that special place.

Bodies wet, sweat easing their friction - aiding the slap and pound of flesh to flesh, the room a sounding booth for their pleasure. The bed their sounding board, their shrine to the purity of the heat - the sex - the everything that was Vince over and in Stuart.

Buried beneath, pressed against - being pushed into - Stuart yelled out, biting at the sheets as he clutched at Vince’s hand. His cock leaking, thrusting over and over into the damp fabric under his groin. He wasn’t going to last. Not with Vince driving him like a master, a madman bent on taking him to oblivion.

He moaned his need; each, “VINCE,” a true plea - Stuart begging for the push over the edge.

Vince buried his face against Stuart’s shoulder, mouth opened in a cry - a yell as his body jerked, shuddered as a whiplash stream of cum burst forth from his balls to coat the inner walls of Stuart’s body. Stuart groaned, the bite - the sting of Vince’s teeth sinking into him - the last desperately needed conductor for his climax, the force of which had him whimpering and falling flat beneath the full press of Vince’s exhausted form.

A time span of minutes, consciousness floating on eternity’s plane, and then Vince was brought back to the aftermath as Stuart murmured a satisfied, “Vince,” so reverently as to almost have been a prayer. He answered back with a small squeeze, a hug chorused by gentle licks of his tongue over the indentions of his teeth that marked Stuart’s skin.

With a small sigh of brief regret, Vince pulled free even as he kept Stuart close. He retained his hold on Stuart’s left hand, circling the man’s stomach with his right as he pulled them both back to where they had begun - on their sides, spooned together - bodies aligned. Soft sounds, no full words being made - they settled against each other - sated and satiated. Still for rest….

Until on the brink of sleep, Vince heard Stuart’s voice ask him what his lover was too tired to articulate.

“Vince….” Beautiful, sure and known.

Vince nodded his head, face tickled by dark damp curls as he lazily traveled a touch once more down Stuart’s back - coming to a stop in the perfect position. Palmer’s kiss as his hand fit to the curve of Stuart’s bum, fingers gently curled round and inside the crease. The contact showing all, saying all - a gesture earned through years of unrequited love. And given with the greatest affirmation that it was more than good enough to be forever.

Finis….