The last three kaiju are an obvious, new addition, too crisp and clean next to the other ten that are worn through by the years. It's four rows of three with the last sitting in the middle of a fifth, and there's a sort of finality to it that Raleigh appreciates. It reminds him every time he sees it, of what they sacrificed, what they accomplished, what they nearly lost.
Chuck stands on the step above him, working the door to his room open, and Raleigh follows him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. The thirteen kaiju are still facing him when he draws up close behind Chuck, hands travelling up over the worn buttery leather of the sleeves, his chin coming to rest on the top of Chuck's shoulder. The fur lining the collar is soft against his cheek, and all he can smell is Chuck—warmth and musk and leather.
Raleigh lifts his chin and rests his hands on Chuck's shoulders, squeezing into the tense muscle there as he leans up and flicks his tongue at Chuck's earlobe. Chuck's breath catches at the same time that Raleigh nips at his earlobe with subtle pressure, just a glance of pain before drawing it between his lips and sucking lightly. He feels a current course through Chuck, a rolling tension that feeds down the thick column of his neck into his shoulders and down further, through his broad back and tapered waist until it ends with a shiver.
Raleigh moves his lips to the hollow behind Chuck's ear, blowing out a small breath before kissing down to the back of his neck, chin brushing against the jacket's collar, nose brushing against the fine, ginger hair there. He pulls back the collar a little, revealing more of Chuck's already-flushed skin, freckles set off and begging to be traced by the tip of Raleigh's tongue.
Raleigh's gentle—the barest contact, salty skin ghosting against his taste buds—until Chuck isn't, huffing out a grunt and turning on Raleigh. The exposed mechanisms of the industrial-style door dig into Raleigh's back as Chuck pins him against it, but it's grounding, bracing—welcome.
Chuck's close, mouth flirting with the shell of Raleigh's ear when he rasps, "what exactly are you playing at, Becket?" and it's Raleigh's turn to shiver, then.
He brings his hands up, latching onto the collar of Chuck's jacket, fingers instinctively working the soft material, such a perfect contrast to the rigid metal pressing into his back.
"I had one, kinda like this," Raleigh murmurs, and they both know he means 'before,' but the word's too loaded to say out loud so it ends there.
Chuck nods and kisses the side of Raleigh's neck, plush lips working down to sit between his collarbones. "Yeah, I remember," he says after a moment, low thrum of his voice combining with the beats of Raleigh's heart.
Chuck's hands are hot against Raleigh's skin, up under his sweater, blunted fingertips doing their damned best to leave their mark. Chuck presses the flat of his tongue over Raleigh's pulse, and Raleigh can feel Chuck smile against his skin as the pace of it quickens in that one moment.
Raleigh's hands are inside the warmth of the jacket, one at his side, fisted in the fabric of Chuck's t-shirt, the other at his back, delved low past the top of his waistband.
He pulls Chuck's hips toward him at the same time that Chuck rocks forward, and it doesn't matter whose idea it was, because the connection is perfect. Chuck groans and squeezes Raleigh's waist before pulling his hands out and cradling his face, lips slanting against his mouth. He grips a hand into the hair at the back of Raleigh's head while their tongues twist together and the slide of it is hot and intoxicating. Then Chuck grinds forward, and Raleigh's gone. He moans into Chuck and Chuck inhales sharply, before rutting his hips forward again, as if somehow fuelled by whatever Raleigh gives him.
Chuck disconnects after a moment, bowing his head, and leaving Raleigh gasping, the short hot bursts of air ruffling Chuck's hair. Chuck's fingers are on the button of Raleigh's pants next, deft and quick as he works them open. Raleigh leans forward a little and buries his mouth in the soft hair at the top of Chuck's head and presses a kiss against it. His lets his head fall back into a gap in the door as Chuck's grip closes tight and firm around the base of his cock. It's a sharp sort of friction Chuck's giving him and Raleigh can feel the edge of the jacket sleeve, almost too harsh against the sensitive skin of his groin but it works—fuck, does it work.
"Oh, shit," Raleigh exhales, tightening his grip on Chuck's t-shirt.
Chuck's still looking down, watching the leaking tip of Raleigh's cock in his fist and he's so attentive, so dedicated, treating this like everything else he's ever done.
Measures don't come in halves with Chuck; it's all or nothing, and hell if Raleigh doesn't want it all.
Chuck looks up and meets Raleigh's eye as he presses the edge of his thumb into the slit of Raleigh's cockhead, and it's so good that Raleigh moans, incoherent. Chuck smiles, giving Raleigh the slightest hint of a dimple before kissing him and working his tongue into Raleigh's mouth in time with his hand. It's obscene, almost, how totally he's consuming Raleigh.
Raleigh fucks his hips up into Chuck's hand, using his hold on Chuck's back for leverage. "Fuck, that's so good, Chuck," he whispers, pulling back just enough to speak, lips still pressed to Chuck's.
Chuck smirks and his lips pull Raleigh's along with them. "I haven't even gotten started yet."
Raleigh hums. He knows.
Chuck pulls back and Raleigh follows, not ready to give up the plush heat of Chuck's mouth. And then Chuck lets go of Raleigh's dick, and fuck if it's a little embarrassing, but Raleigh whimpers. Chuck steps back as if to survey his handiwork, leaving Raleigh slumped back against the door, cock hard and lips swollen.
Wordlessly, Chuck taps the side of one of Raleigh's boots with the silver-tipped toe of his own, and then stands back, hands on his hips waiting for Raleigh to react.
Raleigh toes his boots off and considers taking his time with the rest, drawing it out until Chuck feels compelled to take what he wants, but Chuck's standing there, hair mussed and t-shirt skewed under his jacket, and—
Raleigh's done for. He knows that too.
But before he can pull his pants down, Chuck's on him again, crowding him into the door and kissing him hard. His hands are on Raleigh's hips, fingers gripping into the waistband of his undone pants, and Raleigh's being pulled away from the door. He stumbles over his own feet, clumsy in the headiness of his arousal, and he nearly trips onto the bed at the same time that Chuck's pushing him back onto it.
Normally the bed's uncomfortable and hard, but now it's a welcome change from the mechanisms of the door. Chuck pushes Raleigh's thighs apart and settles between them, slotting in perfectly, like this is the natural order of things. He lowers himself down, pressing against Raleigh, everything close and flush except for their chests and Chuck's such a satisfying weight on top of Raleigh, pinning him down where he belongs.
Chuck rocks his hips in hard circles, hip bones and pant seams digging into Raleigh's skin, hard cock along the join of Raleigh's thigh and his groin.
Raleigh surges up and kisses Chuck just as hard, or at least that's what he's going for when he slips his hand under the fur collar and clasps a hand at the back of Chuck's neck, pulling him down.
When he's got Chuck where he wants him, Raleigh slides a hand between them, trapped between the warmth of their stomachs, and works at the button of Chuck's pants. Before he starts on the zipper, he trails his hand to the side, dragging a fingertip up the length of Chuck's dick over his pants. Chuck gasps, grunts, grinds into Raleigh's hand, body rigid perched above him. And then Chuck moves to sit up, the perfect warmth of his body ghosting over Raleigh for a moment before dissipating. He starts shirking out of the jacket but Raleigh clamps his free hand on Chuck's shoulder, gripping the strap.
"Wait," Raleigh whispers, and Chuck's eyes flutter shut as if anticipating what Raleigh wants. "Keep it on."
Raleigh pulls him back down, leaning up to meet his lips halfway. Chuck groans when they connect, and Raleigh smirks as he breathes the ragged sound in.
Chuck hums and smirks back, before grinding down and making Raleigh gasp."Who do you think you are, making a request like that—some Jaeger fly?"
Raleigh laughs at the tease in Chuck's voice and sweeps his tongue slowly through his mouth. "You love it—don't pretend you don't."
"Mmm... You do have me there..." Chuck drawls, punctuating it with a roll of his hips.
Raleigh answers by canting his hips, and suddenly there's too much fabric in the way. Chuck's a step ahead, shimmying his pants down as far as he can manage with his boots still on, his eyes transfixed on Raleigh's stomach. Raleigh bucks again, contracting his muscles, giving him a show, and Chuck moans.
He leans down and begins tugging Raleigh's pants down, kissing along the vee of his abs as the fabric comes away. He gets one leg free and is halfway done with the second when his attention shifts focus and suddenly he's hovering over Raleigh.
He thrusts forward, his cock rutting up along Raleigh's and it's such a sudden rush of insistent heat that Raleigh gasps.
"Jesus fuck..." Chuck mutters, head tilted back as he drives his hips against Raleigh's again.
Raleigh reaches up over his head, blindly feeling for the drawer of the bedside table. It's a familiar motion but Chuck's rolling his hips in a particularly distracting way, and so it takes Raleigh a long moment to work the drawer open. He fishes around and finds the bottle of slick and hands it over to Chuck.
Chuck takes the bottle from Raleigh and looks at him expectantly for a beat. "Forgetting something?"
Raleigh grins and cants his hips up, relishing the slight flutter of Chuck's eyelids. "Thought maybe we'd go without this time?"
It takes Chuck a second but then the realisation washes over him, clear on his face, and he groans, bowing his head. "Fuck, Becket..." he mutters, his words barely more than breath.
It's the juxtaposition of it all that Raleigh wants, in Chuck fucking him with his bare cock while they're both half-dressed.
Chuck sets back on his haunches and works some of the lube through his hands, and when he looks up, he sees Raleigh watching him. Raleigh can't help himself, drawn in by how intense Chuck's expression is. When their eyes lock, Raleigh smiles at him—like an instinct, like it's his body's automatic reaction—and Chuck throws it back at him, but it ends up twisted and anything but sweet. It's knowing and a little filthy, and a spark hits on-point, straight to the base of Raleigh's cock.
He spreads his legs wide for Chuck and sighs when the tip of a slicked finger touches against his hole, still a little tender from when they'd fucked earlier. Chuck circles the ring with his finger a few times, and looks at Raleigh again.
"Fucked you well open this morning, didn't I?" He rasps. "Still so loose..."
Raleigh nods and reaches for Chuck but he's too far back and his fingers find nothing. Instead he settles for gripping into the bedsheets while Chuck's still playing at the edge Raleigh's hole. He's about to tell Chuck to cut the teasing, when Chuck slips two fingers inside at once.
"Fucking perfect," Chuck says, slowly thrusting his fingers inside Raleigh.
Chuck brings his free hand to rest at the top of Raleigh's inner thigh, and he slips his thumb behind Raleigh's balls, massaging gently the bundle of nerves there, just as the tips of his fingers press against his prostate from inside, and Raleigh groans, low and loud. He arches his back, tightening around Chuck's fingers, and when he finally relaxes, Chuck slips a third finger in.
Raleigh's so full and stretched and it's Chuck all over him and inside him and—
Chuck thrusts his fingers in hard and hits Raleigh's prostate again, along with another well timed press to his perineum.
"Holy shit, Chuck," Raleigh cries out, "I can't—" He pants, digging his fingers into the sheets more. "Fuck me, please."
Chuck grins and gives a few more thrusts with his fingers—for the torture of it, Raleigh's sure—and then finally he relents.
Chuck slicks his hands up again and takes hold of his cock. He strokes himself slowly and Raleigh watches, starting to feel desperate with how badly he wants Chuck's naked cock inside him. Chuck looks up and winks, before tilting his head back. He bites his lower lip and lets out a deep groan, pumping his cock lazily, indulgently. Raleigh knows he's teasing again, enjoying the power he has in that moment.
Raleigh knows exactly what he's holding out for, too, and maybe sometimes he'll push back, refuse to give in so easily, but now Chuck's here between his legs, flushed and sweating, putting his cock on show, and Raleigh's weak in the face of that.
"Chuck..." It comes out as little more than a gasp, but it catches Chuck's interest all the same, and he looks down at Raleigh, eyes bright. "Chuck, c'mon."
Chuck flashes Raleigh a dimple and leans down, bracing one hand on the bed by Raleigh's shoulder. Raleigh brings a hand up right away, clutching at the supple leather of the jacket, thankful for some tangible part of Chuck to touch. Chuck guides his cock to Raleigh's hole and presses the tip against him just barely.
"Please, Chuck, just—"
Chuck cuts Raleigh off with a quick thrust and suddenly he's half-sheathed and pushing further in slowly, steadily.
"Yeah... That's so good, Chuck. C'mon, give me everything, every inch..."
As Raleigh's babbling, Chuck bottoms out. He sets a hard pace from the go, fast and unrelenting. Raleigh can barely keep up, trying to meet Chuck's hips on each downthrust, until he hooks his ankles behind Chuck's back and holds himself as wide open as he can.
Chuck's eyes are screwed shut, his teeth grit, and his skin's glowing. His thrusts are sharp, quick, and a few beads of sweat trickle down from his temple. Raleigh reaches up and thumbs them away, before sliding his hand around to the back of Chuck's neck, and it feels like smouldering embers where the collar of the jacket sits against his skin. Chuck gasps when Raleigh touches him, and Raleigh figures it's the shock of his cool hand against his heated skin. Raleigh relishes seeing him like this, sweaty and straining.
His dog tags rest in the centre of Raleigh's chest, moving back and forth in a pendulum swing with each thrust, the soft jingle they make mixing with their panting breaths and low groans.
Chuck slips his hand under Raleigh's sweater and holds his waist again, his broad hand searing Raleigh's skin. He rubs his thumb in small circles, and it's such a tender gesture against the harsh ruts of his hips that Raleigh can't help but laugh a little.
Chuck scoffs and then speaks from the corner of a half-smile. "You ticklish, Becket?"
"Nah, you're just—" and the thought's lost when Chuck's cock rubs his prostate, and he can think of nothing else except more.
Raleigh squeezes his legs around Chuck's middle and digs his heels in against his ass, trying to spur him on, to drive him in deeper. "C'mon, Chuck, more, more, harder."
Chuck grunts and shakes his head but he goes along with it, pulling his hips back so far Raleigh's afraid for a moment that he's going to lose Chuck's thickness completely.
"Whatever you say," Chuck grinds out before snapping his hips forward and thrusting into Raleigh hard. And he does it over and over again, with a muted slap of skin against skin.
Raleigh can feel every inch of Chuck as he fucks him deep, so solid and hot and commanding; Chuck's taking exactly what he wants, and all Raleigh can do is let him.
Chuck angles his next thrust, hitting Raleigh's prostate again. "Get your hand on that gorgeous cock."
Raleigh moans at Chuck's order, arching his back a little and digging his fingers into the sleeve of Chuck's jacket as if it were a lifeline, the last thing keeping Raleigh in place on the bed. He draws his hand away from the warmth under Chuck's collar and grips his cock. He strokes himself quickly, trying to mimic Chuck's rhythm.
Chuck squeezes Raleigh's waist and groans. "Fucking magnificent," he says, eyes staring hard at Raleigh's hand fisting his cock. "Christ, Raleigh..."
"Yeah," Raleigh gasps, squeezing Chuck's arm again. There's more he could say, that he wants to say, to encourage him and to praise him, but he's lost in the feel of everything. Instead it all comes out as a moan, needy and loud, and Chuck answers with a bitten-off curse.
Chuck shifts forward, angling Raleigh's hips up as he does, and then every thrust hits home for Raleigh. He clenches tightly around Chuck, needing to feel his length even more. Chuck's taking ragged breaths above him, each exhale punctuated by a harsh grunt.
"Oh, fuck," Raleigh mutters, "Chuck, you're so perfect, this is perfect, shit, uh, I'm—"
Chuck bows his head for a moment. He takes his hand away from Raleigh's waist and quickly rucks up his sweater, pushing it as high as he can without breaking rhythm.
"C'mon Raleigh—oh, shit—c'mon, I wanna see it all over your—"
Raleigh cuts Chuck off with a groan and he arches his back high off the bed again, bearing down on Chuck's cock as much as he can. He strokes himself a few more times, quick and tight, and all it takes is one more press of Chuck's cock against his prostate and Raleigh's mind blanks as he comes, white hot across his stomach. He squeezes Chuck's arm again, as if trying to feed the force of his orgasm through to Chuck.
"Shit, Raleigh." Chuck licks his lips at the sight of Raleigh's stomach and leans forward, bracing on his elbows, and he kisses Raleigh hard.
He's insistent, eager, and desperate as he pants into Raleigh's mouth, his hips faltering as he chases his orgasm. Raleigh cards his fingers into Chuck's hair, kissing along his jaw.
It's the heat radiating from Chuck's body, the weight of him, the sounds he makes as he comes, the smell of leather—Chuck's ruined him, in more ways than one, but this is such a visceral thing that Raleigh knows the memory of it is going to be on a constant loop through his mind for a while.
Chuck sighs as he withdraws and he slinks up, collapsing next to Raleigh on the narrow bed. Chuck looks up at him and tilts his head, nipping at the edge of Raleigh's jaw.
"You reckon that counts as PT, Becket?"