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when you're gone

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“Let me show you how much I missed you,” Win whispers, pressing Team’s hands down into the mattress beside his head before delving in and reclaiming his mouth once more.

When Win touches him, it feels like every nerve ending in Team is exposed. He jerks with every brush of hands on his skin, gasps into every kiss. They’ve done this so many times, but with several weeks of nothing but his own fingers and a toy that barely compares to the real thing, it’s like their first all over again.

He’ll never get tired of it, the tenderness in which Win handles him, even when he wants it a little rougher, a little dirtier. Win is always careful, always checking in and ensuring he’s comfortable.

Team doesn’t know what to do with all that affection sometimes. Thinks he’s undeserving of it on the worst of days, but Win is there to remind him just how precious he is.

It shows when he helps remove Team’s shirt, the reverence in which he brushes his lips over the bared skin, nipping here and there in some of his more sensitive places. Because how could he forget all the things that drove Team wild?

Their clothes come off quickly, leaving Team naked, hot, and hard with Win pressing down on him with just his underwear remaining.

“Hia,” Team whines, pushing his fingers down the waistband of Win’s boxers, needing to get them off, to feel his boyfriend against him. All of him.

Win obeys the silent demand, coming back as quickly as he’d left once he gets the fabric off and retrieves the bottle of lube Team keeps stashed in the side drawer. “How do you want it, baby?” he pants, fingers gripping Team’s high and guiding it up around his waist. “Like this?”

Team can only nod, tightening his grip on Win’s shoulders in anticipation when his boyfriend pours a generous amount of lube over his fingers. It’s not his favourite position, but he wants to see Win’s face. It’s been far too long.

He tenses only slightly at the first press inside, and relaxes just as Win gets down to the first knuckle, soothing his other hand up the side of his ribs. “Good?” Win asks as Team takes his hand and holds it over his heart.

“Good,” Team assures him, wiggling his hips impatiently. “Another one. Please.” He bites down on his lip when Win slips the second finger inside, pushing in and up. Team’s back arches on impulse, clenches down on his fingers when he expertly finds his prostate.

“There you go,” Win whispers, leaning in close to his ear so Team can feel his breath on his neck. He shivers, burying a hand in the back of Win’s head to keep him there. It’s better to hear it like this, without the buffer of a phone speaker between them. It’s almost unfair, how easily Win can undo him with words alone. It’s a give and take though, in a way. Team isn’t especially verbal in bed, so Win makes up for it, and gets Team’s reactions in return.

Fuck, hia,” Team groans and Win takes that opportunity to kiss the sounds from his mouth, getting a third finger inside of him at the same time. Team nearly comes like that, overwhelmed with sensation that he hasn’t felt in months.

He refuses, tries to hold himself back from toppling over that edge even as Win continues to thrust his fingers in and out, like he’s trying to get him to break.

So Team plays a little dirty, sinks his teeth gently into the bottom of Win’s lip and tugs, earning him a low, guttural moan as he snakes a hand between their slick bodies and grips Win’s dick. He gives him a few, long strokes. Win chokes on nothing, just breathes into Team’s open mouth.

And just because Team doesn’t often say much, doesn’t mean there aren’t a few tricks up his sleeve. He thinks they have more impact that way. “Are you gonna fuck me?” he taunts, running his thumb over the slit, satisfied when Win’s head drops onto his shoulder with a muttered curse.

Win slips his fingers out of Team in response, raising himself on both arms so he can slick himself up with the excess lube on his hands. They forewent condoms a while ago, after getting tested together for really no reason other than they wanted to.

The anticipation is both the best and the worst part, because he knows it’s coming but he’s usually already so impatient for it that it borders on painful.

Team wraps both legs around Win’s waist, urging him on until Win finally gives him what he wants.

He missed this. Almost forgot how intimate it could be, to be this close. Team reflexively throws his head back and moans around the press of his boyfriend fully seating himself inside of him. Win couples the movement with biting kisses to his exposed neck, telling him he’s beautiful, that he’s so, so good. It causes a shudder to wrack Team’s body.

Unable to help the whimpers, Team tries to hide his flushed face in Win’s shoulder, panting with every thrust, digging his fingertips into skin and no doubt leaving indents. Win doesn’t seem to mind, just pushes Team’s thighs further apart and propels his hips forward.

It’s a lot. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Team faintly registers a hand locking itself into the hair at the base of his neck, firmly tugging his mouth away from its spot in the junction of Win’s neck. The light sting goes straight to his dick. “Come on, baby,” Win breathes, “let me hear you.” Team chokes on another moan, scrambles to find purchase in the sheets under him.

He wanted to last longer, savour this, but he’s weak to the warm pressure stirring low in him. The heat only builds, especially when Win adjusts the angle and hits him right where he needs to to make him see stars. “Hia, hia, hia—” he repeats, over and over. Partly because he’s going to come, and partly just because he can.

Team gets a hand down on himself, stroking to help it along. He’s sure he’s spewing nothing but nonsense now, litanies of harder please please please that are drowned out by all the other obscene noises they’re making.

It only takes another couple seconds before he’s coming, making a mess of his hand and stomach as Win helps him ride it out. It’s easy to tip into oversensitivity like that, but he’s loath to let his boyfriend stop, even when Win attempts to slow down in order to avoid overstimulating him.

His legs remain like a vice around his hips, keeping him right where he is. “No,” he pants, surprised by how steady he sounds. “Inside me,” he says with all the resolve he can muster. “Hia,” Team says when Win sucks on his own lip in uncertainty, “come inside me.” He needs it. He doesn’t know why, he just needs it.

That’s all it takes apparently, because Win is giving him another dozen thrusts or so before he exhales shakily and Team feels the warmth of his release. It’ll be a bitch to clean later, but there is nothing in him that says that’s something he has to worry about right now.

Win's arms give out and he lets his body weight rest on top of Team. Not all of it, but enough that Team struggles to take in a solid breath for a moment. Win takes pity by lifting off a little on one elbow to trade lazy kisses as their heart rates go down and the sweat dries on their skin.

“I swear you’re trying to kill me,” Win mumbles, pecking the highest point of Team’s cheek. Team hums, content as he stretches out underneath him, feeling that pleasant ache in every muscle. He'd probably start purring if he could.

He dozes lightly, distantly aware of Win getting up and wiping them both down until he’s forced to get up and actually shower, which he isn’t happy about in the moment but he knows Morning Team will appreciate it.

Team’s never said it out loud, but this is actually his favourite bit. When Win coaxes him under the spray of water and fusses over him to get him clean because they both know he’ll regret it later since post-sex Team likes to make everything difficult.

It makes him feel cared for, and known. Although it had taken some getting used to, opening up and letting another person in, sharing his life and space with them. He likes that it's Win, who will do his best to take care of him, no matter the circumstances.

He’s learning how to do the same for him. And he hopes he gets many, many more years to try.

Notes:

Win gave the keychain to Dean because he's the only one who wouldn't ask questions or give anything away if Win very sincerely asked him not to.

also there is no punchline to that confession joke. If anybody thinks of one, let me know! Lol

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