FIC: Variables
Title: Variables
Author: rebecca
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Stephen/Joshua
Summary: What Drake did--it's not done.
Notes: Part of the Geometry series, this is either a missing scene or a piece that didn't fit in the original story. Takes place between Line of Sight and Right Angle.
This is my (slightly late) birthday present to you, all you amazing people who read my fic and like it and let me know. Thank you, so much, for making me feel welcome and wanted and appreciated.
"It's over." Stephen hung up the phone and turned to his lover. "They--it's over. No more cameras, no more evidence, I'll get my stuff back eventually--it's done." He ran a hand through his hair, looking over at where Joshua stood by his easel.
Joshua put down his paintbrush, turning to look at him. "It's not done, Stephen," he said quietly. "It's--what Drake did to us--to you--it's not done." Not by a long shot.
"I know." Stephen's hand clenched at his side. "You think I don't know that?"
"I think you're a bit too calm for a man who just discovered six months of his life was on video and then had his lover accused of murder." Joshua walked over to where Stephen stood by the phone. "It's not over, Stephen." He stroked a hand down Stephen's cheek, tracing a finger down the soft gray fabric of Stephen's T-shirt.
"It's done," Stephen repeated, meeting Joshua's eyes. "The case is over."
"And what's going to happen to those recordings? Are you telling me you're comfortable with them being entered into evidence?" Joshua pushed. "Because I'm sure as hell not."
"No, of course I'm not," Stephen retorted. "But what do you want me to do about it? Call Agent Gibbs or Agent DiNozzo and tell them that hi, I'd like my privacy back?" He glared at Joshua, a faint flush staining his cheekbones. "It's too late for that, in case you didn't notice."
"I noticed," Joshua said calmly. "Believe me. I noticed."
"Then what do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" Stephen swallowed, fighting for control. "Why are you pushing me, Joshua?"
"Do you really need me to answer that?" Joshua countered. "Come on, Stephen. Face the facts. The guy stalked you for six months. He took your things. He took videos of you all over the place. Can you honestly stand there and tell me that bam, it's over?"
"Don't," Stephen said tightly. "Don't, Joshua, don't push it, don't push me--"
"Are you that unconcerned with having federal agents watch our sex life? Watch me hurt you?" Joshua pressed. "Do you honestly not care? Should I call Nicolas and reserve a performance stage for us, next time we go to the club?" He folded his arms over his chest, waiting.
"Don't," Stephen repeated, his body tense as a drawn bow. "Joshua--"
"Come on, Stephen. Tell me it's over. Make me believe it." Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Make me believe it's really over, because right now? You're lying."
In one smooth move, Stephen whirled, grabbing his coffee mug and sending it flying across the apartment. It shattered against the wall, coffee and pottery shards staining the wall. "Do I look like an idiot?" he demanded, shoving Joshua back a step. "Do I look like I actually think this is over?" He grabbed a plate Joshua had left out and sent it after the mug. "Drake raped me, Joshua, in all but the physical act. He stole my privacy, he invaded my life--do you honestly, for one second, think that I can just snap my fingers and pretend it never happened?"
Joshua watched him coolly. "You were trying to do that a minute ago," he pointed out.
"Oh, fuck you," Stephen snapped. "No, it's not over, and it's not done with, but if you'd leave it alone I might be able to forget for a few minutes here and there. But no--you have to push, don't you? Push and push and push until something snaps, because heaven forbid I deal with things my own way. It's always your way, isn't it, Joshua? You're always the one in charge, aren't you?"
"And what would have happened if I'd left it alone, Stephen?" Joshua asked evenly. "You'd have pulled in, pulled away from me, you wouldn't have let me touch you, hold you, until you either melted down or I forced it out of you. Is that what you want?"
"Leave it alone!" Stephen shoved him again, but this time Joshua caught his arms, fighting to hold him still. "Leave me alone!" Stephen all-but-pleaded, breathless, fighting Joshua with every bit of his strength.
"No."
Stephen yanked himself away and Joshua fought to pull him back, wrestling him into submission. It wasn't easy; Stephen was shorter, but he was in damned good shape. Joshua grunted as an elbow caught him in the ribs, his grip loosened and Stephen almost got out of it.
"Fuck this," he muttered, hooking a foot behind Stephen's legs and sweeping his feet out from under him. Stephen fell back, hitting the floor, and Joshua landed on top of him.
"Let me go," Stephen demanded, breathless and hoarse. "Joshua, so help me--"
"No." Joshua held him down by the simple method of lying on him. "Damnit, Stephen--listen to me!"
He planted his hands on the floor, on either side of Stephen's head. "It's not over," he said quietly. "And until we deal with it, it won't be."
"How do you expect us to deal with it?" Stephen shot back. "What do you want me to do?" He shoved at Joshua's shoulders, but he wasn't really trying and Joshua didn't move. "Tell me that, Joshua. What do you want me to do?"
"Let me touch you." The words were immediate, almost instinctive. "Stephen--you've barely let me touch you since Drake was killed. You haven't let me make love to you since then. Let me touch you." Joshua sighed, sitting back on his heels. "I don't need the toys. I don't need to--I just need to know you're mine again."
"I can't," Stephen whispered. He pushed himself back, sliding out from under Joshua and sitting up. "Joshua--I keep thinking about him watching us, about what he saw. About what Agent Gibbs and his team saw. That--I don't know what to do, Joshua. I can't--I feel dirty, like no matter what I do I can't get rid of him. Like--no matter what I do, he's watching."
"Oh, babe..." Joshua shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor. "C'mere." He held out a hand.
It took a moment, but Stephen took it, crawling into his lap. He tucked his head against Joshua's shoulder, and Joshua just breathed in the scent of his shampoo and held him close. "We could move," Joshua offered.
"No." Stephen shook his head. "We've put too much time and money into this place, and I'm not going to let him drive us out of it."
"Okay." Joshua kissed Stephen's hair. "So what do we do?"
"You're the one who pushed it, you tell me." Stephen's voice was tired, though, and the words didn't have much bite.
"You know what I think, Stephen." Joshua tipped Stephen's chin up. "You know what I want."
Stephen's eyes were impossibly dark. He licked his lips absently, looking at Joshua. "I--" He exhaled, looking away. "And if I can't?"
"Let's not think that, okay?" Joshua stroked his cheek, his throat. "Make love with me, Stephen."
He waited, not saying a word, until Stephen looked at him again, leaning up for a kiss.
Joshua cupped Stephen's face in his hand, holding him close as he deepened the kiss, coaxing Stephen's lips apart, slipping his tongue inside to tease. Stephen made a soft, low sound in the back of his throat, and the easy way he yielded was achingly familiar and no less powerful for it.
He pulled Stephen against him, kissing him again, harder, taking what he'd asked for a moment ago. Stephen moaned softly and his hand gripped Joshua's shoulder, his fingers warm and strong through the worn fabric of Joshua's T-shirt; Joshua let go of Stephen's face and took his wrist instead, circling it with his fingers and squeezing tight.
Stephen gasped, breaking the kiss. "Joshua," he said breathlessly, the word half a moan. "Please..."
"Fall for me," Joshua whispered. "Fall for me, Stephen."
He felt it--the shift in Stephen's breathing, the way he just...relaxed, going limp and pliant against Joshua. The soft, nearly breathless moan he made.
Joshua kissed him again, gently. "What are you?" he asked softly, licking Stephen's lip.
Stephen murmured in pleasure and pressed against him. "Yours," he breathed.
Joshua fought back the shout of triumph and managed to smile, instead, kissing Stephen's mouth, his eyelids, his temple. "Stand up," he said quietly. "And take off your clothes."
He watched as Stephen pulled himself to his feet gracefully, beginning to undress almost immediately. Stephen--always the neat one--folded his clothes and set them down next to him, one piece at a time. Gray T-shirt, black jeans, underwear, socks. When he was nude, he stood in front of Joshua, hands clasped neatly behind his back, hair spilling over his shoulders.
"Good," Joshua praised him. He got to his feet and pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it haphazardly next to Stephen's clothes. "Good." He stroked Stephen's face and shoulders, pleased at the way Stephen sighed a little and turned into it.
It had to be in their bed. It couldn't be anywhere else. So Joshua smacked Stephen lightly on the ass and nodded at the iron frame. "On your back," he instructed. Stephen nodded and moved to lie down on the bed, stretching out against the green comforter.
Joshua took a deep breath before unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down, stepping out of the denim. He hadn't bothered with underwear and so walked naked across the floor to the bed, crawling onto it to kneel over Stephen. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
Stephen nodded and reached up for him. Joshua smiled, letting Stephen pull him down on top of him, kissing him hungrily. "Joshua," Stephen whispered against his mouth, biting his lower lip. "Make me feel it."
"Always." Joshua kissed him hard, rocking his hips against Stephen's and making him groan. "Mine, Stephen. Always mine."
"Yours." Stephen wrapped his legs around Joshua's hips, pulling Joshua down tighter against his body. "Yours, Joshua."
With a groan, Joshua pulled away from Stephen's mouth, burying his face in Stephen's neck, biting him hard enough to bruise. Stephen cried out, arching under him. His head fell back and his fingers dug into Joshua's shoulders. Joshua licked the bite, feeling the mark he'd made. His mark.
His Stephen. He swallowed, the realization of what he'd almost lost hitting him. Hard.
"Stephen," he whispered unsteadily. "God, Stephen..."
"I know." Stephen pulled his head down for a kiss. "I know--Joshua, tell me it's over, tell me it's just us, tell me he's not watching--"
His voice was getting more agitated, rising a bit in panic; Joshua did the only thing he could and pushed Stephen's wrists over his head, gripping them tight. Stephen moaned, the instinctive trigger working like it always did, sending him spinning into headspace. "It's just us," Joshua whispered, tightening his hold. "Just us, Stephen."
"Us," Stephen whispered back, calming. "Just us..."
Joshua kissed him again and again, grinding his pelvis into Stephen's, drinking in Stephen's moans and whimpers, the way Stephen's wrists flexed under his hands. He had to pull back to breathe and realized if he didn't get the lube soon it was going to be too late.
"One sec," Joshua said raggedly, moving away to grab it. Stephen grumbled in complaint, trying to pull him down. "Stephen--" Joshua looked down at him. "I need to get the lube, babe. Lie back."
Stephen grumbled again, but lay back against the pillows.
Joshua nearly fumbled the bottle trying to get it open, and it took him two tries to be able to slick his cock. Stephen was going to kill him if he wasted time stretching him open and frankly, Joshua wasn't sure he'd be able to manage it anyway.
"C'mon," Stephen demanded, reaching for him. "Joshua, fuck me, come on..."
Joshua positioned himself at Stephen's hole and lifted Stephen's legs, hooking them over his shoulders. Stephen reached back for the headboard, grasping it tight; Joshua bit his lip and pushed into him with one hard thrust.
Under him, Stephen moaned, his skin flushed and damp with sweat, strands of hair clinging to his face. Joshua leaned down for one hard, fast kiss before he began to move.
It wasn't gentle and it wasn't slow and neither of them cared. Stephen's hands clenched on the headboard so tightly his knuckles were white; Joshua kissed him, hard and sloppy, tongue thrusting into his mouth the same rhythm as his cock driving into Stephen's body.
Stephen wrenched one hand free of the headboard and reached down between their bodies for his cock, but Joshua growled at him. "Not yet," he snapped, harder than he intended. It didn't seem to matter--Stephen whined and reached back over his head, whimpering with each thrust into him. Joshua kissed him in reward, biting his lips.
It was ages--it was seconds--when he felt his body tightening. Joshua groaned, burying his head in Stephen's shoulder. "Do it," he ground out. "Come."
He didn't even reach for his cock; he just cried out, low and long, arching under Joshua as he came. His body clenched tight and Joshua groaned into Stephen's skin, orgasm slamming into him with the force of a freight train.
Some immeasurable time later, he eased off Stephen, lowering Stephen's legs to the bed. From the soft groan he made, Stephen was both out of it and going to feel this for a few days. Joshua smiled tiredly and grabbed a few tissues to clean them both off.
"Hey, babe," he said quietly, moving to lie next to Stephen. "C'mon. Let's get some sleep."
"Kay." Stephen yawned and closed his eyes, not letting go of the headboard rails. Joshua snorted and reached up, prying his fingers free.
"C'mon," he said again, pulling back the covers. Stephen muttered an incoherent complaint, but crawled under them, settling against Joshua with a contented sigh. Joshua stroked his hair back, kissing his forehead. "Just us," he said softly.
Stephen dropped a sleepy kiss on Joshua's collarbone. "Just us."
Author: rebecca
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Stephen/Joshua
Summary: What Drake did--it's not done.
Notes: Part of the Geometry series, this is either a missing scene or a piece that didn't fit in the original story. Takes place between Line of Sight and Right Angle.
This is my (slightly late) birthday present to you, all you amazing people who read my fic and like it and let me know. Thank you, so much, for making me feel welcome and wanted and appreciated.
"It's over." Stephen hung up the phone and turned to his lover. "They--it's over. No more cameras, no more evidence, I'll get my stuff back eventually--it's done." He ran a hand through his hair, looking over at where Joshua stood by his easel.
Joshua put down his paintbrush, turning to look at him. "It's not done, Stephen," he said quietly. "It's--what Drake did to us--to you--it's not done." Not by a long shot.
"I know." Stephen's hand clenched at his side. "You think I don't know that?"
"I think you're a bit too calm for a man who just discovered six months of his life was on video and then had his lover accused of murder." Joshua walked over to where Stephen stood by the phone. "It's not over, Stephen." He stroked a hand down Stephen's cheek, tracing a finger down the soft gray fabric of Stephen's T-shirt.
"It's done," Stephen repeated, meeting Joshua's eyes. "The case is over."
"And what's going to happen to those recordings? Are you telling me you're comfortable with them being entered into evidence?" Joshua pushed. "Because I'm sure as hell not."
"No, of course I'm not," Stephen retorted. "But what do you want me to do about it? Call Agent Gibbs or Agent DiNozzo and tell them that hi, I'd like my privacy back?" He glared at Joshua, a faint flush staining his cheekbones. "It's too late for that, in case you didn't notice."
"I noticed," Joshua said calmly. "Believe me. I noticed."
"Then what do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" Stephen swallowed, fighting for control. "Why are you pushing me, Joshua?"
"Do you really need me to answer that?" Joshua countered. "Come on, Stephen. Face the facts. The guy stalked you for six months. He took your things. He took videos of you all over the place. Can you honestly stand there and tell me that bam, it's over?"
"Don't," Stephen said tightly. "Don't, Joshua, don't push it, don't push me--"
"Are you that unconcerned with having federal agents watch our sex life? Watch me hurt you?" Joshua pressed. "Do you honestly not care? Should I call Nicolas and reserve a performance stage for us, next time we go to the club?" He folded his arms over his chest, waiting.
"Don't," Stephen repeated, his body tense as a drawn bow. "Joshua--"
"Come on, Stephen. Tell me it's over. Make me believe it." Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Make me believe it's really over, because right now? You're lying."
In one smooth move, Stephen whirled, grabbing his coffee mug and sending it flying across the apartment. It shattered against the wall, coffee and pottery shards staining the wall. "Do I look like an idiot?" he demanded, shoving Joshua back a step. "Do I look like I actually think this is over?" He grabbed a plate Joshua had left out and sent it after the mug. "Drake raped me, Joshua, in all but the physical act. He stole my privacy, he invaded my life--do you honestly, for one second, think that I can just snap my fingers and pretend it never happened?"
Joshua watched him coolly. "You were trying to do that a minute ago," he pointed out.
"Oh, fuck you," Stephen snapped. "No, it's not over, and it's not done with, but if you'd leave it alone I might be able to forget for a few minutes here and there. But no--you have to push, don't you? Push and push and push until something snaps, because heaven forbid I deal with things my own way. It's always your way, isn't it, Joshua? You're always the one in charge, aren't you?"
"And what would have happened if I'd left it alone, Stephen?" Joshua asked evenly. "You'd have pulled in, pulled away from me, you wouldn't have let me touch you, hold you, until you either melted down or I forced it out of you. Is that what you want?"
"Leave it alone!" Stephen shoved him again, but this time Joshua caught his arms, fighting to hold him still. "Leave me alone!" Stephen all-but-pleaded, breathless, fighting Joshua with every bit of his strength.
"No."
Stephen yanked himself away and Joshua fought to pull him back, wrestling him into submission. It wasn't easy; Stephen was shorter, but he was in damned good shape. Joshua grunted as an elbow caught him in the ribs, his grip loosened and Stephen almost got out of it.
"Fuck this," he muttered, hooking a foot behind Stephen's legs and sweeping his feet out from under him. Stephen fell back, hitting the floor, and Joshua landed on top of him.
"Let me go," Stephen demanded, breathless and hoarse. "Joshua, so help me--"
"No." Joshua held him down by the simple method of lying on him. "Damnit, Stephen--listen to me!"
He planted his hands on the floor, on either side of Stephen's head. "It's not over," he said quietly. "And until we deal with it, it won't be."
"How do you expect us to deal with it?" Stephen shot back. "What do you want me to do?" He shoved at Joshua's shoulders, but he wasn't really trying and Joshua didn't move. "Tell me that, Joshua. What do you want me to do?"
"Let me touch you." The words were immediate, almost instinctive. "Stephen--you've barely let me touch you since Drake was killed. You haven't let me make love to you since then. Let me touch you." Joshua sighed, sitting back on his heels. "I don't need the toys. I don't need to--I just need to know you're mine again."
"I can't," Stephen whispered. He pushed himself back, sliding out from under Joshua and sitting up. "Joshua--I keep thinking about him watching us, about what he saw. About what Agent Gibbs and his team saw. That--I don't know what to do, Joshua. I can't--I feel dirty, like no matter what I do I can't get rid of him. Like--no matter what I do, he's watching."
"Oh, babe..." Joshua shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor. "C'mere." He held out a hand.
It took a moment, but Stephen took it, crawling into his lap. He tucked his head against Joshua's shoulder, and Joshua just breathed in the scent of his shampoo and held him close. "We could move," Joshua offered.
"No." Stephen shook his head. "We've put too much time and money into this place, and I'm not going to let him drive us out of it."
"Okay." Joshua kissed Stephen's hair. "So what do we do?"
"You're the one who pushed it, you tell me." Stephen's voice was tired, though, and the words didn't have much bite.
"You know what I think, Stephen." Joshua tipped Stephen's chin up. "You know what I want."
Stephen's eyes were impossibly dark. He licked his lips absently, looking at Joshua. "I--" He exhaled, looking away. "And if I can't?"
"Let's not think that, okay?" Joshua stroked his cheek, his throat. "Make love with me, Stephen."
He waited, not saying a word, until Stephen looked at him again, leaning up for a kiss.
Joshua cupped Stephen's face in his hand, holding him close as he deepened the kiss, coaxing Stephen's lips apart, slipping his tongue inside to tease. Stephen made a soft, low sound in the back of his throat, and the easy way he yielded was achingly familiar and no less powerful for it.
He pulled Stephen against him, kissing him again, harder, taking what he'd asked for a moment ago. Stephen moaned softly and his hand gripped Joshua's shoulder, his fingers warm and strong through the worn fabric of Joshua's T-shirt; Joshua let go of Stephen's face and took his wrist instead, circling it with his fingers and squeezing tight.
Stephen gasped, breaking the kiss. "Joshua," he said breathlessly, the word half a moan. "Please..."
"Fall for me," Joshua whispered. "Fall for me, Stephen."
He felt it--the shift in Stephen's breathing, the way he just...relaxed, going limp and pliant against Joshua. The soft, nearly breathless moan he made.
Joshua kissed him again, gently. "What are you?" he asked softly, licking Stephen's lip.
Stephen murmured in pleasure and pressed against him. "Yours," he breathed.
Joshua fought back the shout of triumph and managed to smile, instead, kissing Stephen's mouth, his eyelids, his temple. "Stand up," he said quietly. "And take off your clothes."
He watched as Stephen pulled himself to his feet gracefully, beginning to undress almost immediately. Stephen--always the neat one--folded his clothes and set them down next to him, one piece at a time. Gray T-shirt, black jeans, underwear, socks. When he was nude, he stood in front of Joshua, hands clasped neatly behind his back, hair spilling over his shoulders.
"Good," Joshua praised him. He got to his feet and pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it haphazardly next to Stephen's clothes. "Good." He stroked Stephen's face and shoulders, pleased at the way Stephen sighed a little and turned into it.
It had to be in their bed. It couldn't be anywhere else. So Joshua smacked Stephen lightly on the ass and nodded at the iron frame. "On your back," he instructed. Stephen nodded and moved to lie down on the bed, stretching out against the green comforter.
Joshua took a deep breath before unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down, stepping out of the denim. He hadn't bothered with underwear and so walked naked across the floor to the bed, crawling onto it to kneel over Stephen. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
Stephen nodded and reached up for him. Joshua smiled, letting Stephen pull him down on top of him, kissing him hungrily. "Joshua," Stephen whispered against his mouth, biting his lower lip. "Make me feel it."
"Always." Joshua kissed him hard, rocking his hips against Stephen's and making him groan. "Mine, Stephen. Always mine."
"Yours." Stephen wrapped his legs around Joshua's hips, pulling Joshua down tighter against his body. "Yours, Joshua."
With a groan, Joshua pulled away from Stephen's mouth, burying his face in Stephen's neck, biting him hard enough to bruise. Stephen cried out, arching under him. His head fell back and his fingers dug into Joshua's shoulders. Joshua licked the bite, feeling the mark he'd made. His mark.
His Stephen. He swallowed, the realization of what he'd almost lost hitting him. Hard.
"Stephen," he whispered unsteadily. "God, Stephen..."
"I know." Stephen pulled his head down for a kiss. "I know--Joshua, tell me it's over, tell me it's just us, tell me he's not watching--"
His voice was getting more agitated, rising a bit in panic; Joshua did the only thing he could and pushed Stephen's wrists over his head, gripping them tight. Stephen moaned, the instinctive trigger working like it always did, sending him spinning into headspace. "It's just us," Joshua whispered, tightening his hold. "Just us, Stephen."
"Us," Stephen whispered back, calming. "Just us..."
Joshua kissed him again and again, grinding his pelvis into Stephen's, drinking in Stephen's moans and whimpers, the way Stephen's wrists flexed under his hands. He had to pull back to breathe and realized if he didn't get the lube soon it was going to be too late.
"One sec," Joshua said raggedly, moving away to grab it. Stephen grumbled in complaint, trying to pull him down. "Stephen--" Joshua looked down at him. "I need to get the lube, babe. Lie back."
Stephen grumbled again, but lay back against the pillows.
Joshua nearly fumbled the bottle trying to get it open, and it took him two tries to be able to slick his cock. Stephen was going to kill him if he wasted time stretching him open and frankly, Joshua wasn't sure he'd be able to manage it anyway.
"C'mon," Stephen demanded, reaching for him. "Joshua, fuck me, come on..."
Joshua positioned himself at Stephen's hole and lifted Stephen's legs, hooking them over his shoulders. Stephen reached back for the headboard, grasping it tight; Joshua bit his lip and pushed into him with one hard thrust.
Under him, Stephen moaned, his skin flushed and damp with sweat, strands of hair clinging to his face. Joshua leaned down for one hard, fast kiss before he began to move.
It wasn't gentle and it wasn't slow and neither of them cared. Stephen's hands clenched on the headboard so tightly his knuckles were white; Joshua kissed him, hard and sloppy, tongue thrusting into his mouth the same rhythm as his cock driving into Stephen's body.
Stephen wrenched one hand free of the headboard and reached down between their bodies for his cock, but Joshua growled at him. "Not yet," he snapped, harder than he intended. It didn't seem to matter--Stephen whined and reached back over his head, whimpering with each thrust into him. Joshua kissed him in reward, biting his lips.
It was ages--it was seconds--when he felt his body tightening. Joshua groaned, burying his head in Stephen's shoulder. "Do it," he ground out. "Come."
He didn't even reach for his cock; he just cried out, low and long, arching under Joshua as he came. His body clenched tight and Joshua groaned into Stephen's skin, orgasm slamming into him with the force of a freight train.
Some immeasurable time later, he eased off Stephen, lowering Stephen's legs to the bed. From the soft groan he made, Stephen was both out of it and going to feel this for a few days. Joshua smiled tiredly and grabbed a few tissues to clean them both off.
"Hey, babe," he said quietly, moving to lie next to Stephen. "C'mon. Let's get some sleep."
"Kay." Stephen yawned and closed his eyes, not letting go of the headboard rails. Joshua snorted and reached up, prying his fingers free.
"C'mon," he said again, pulling back the covers. Stephen muttered an incoherent complaint, but crawled under them, settling against Joshua with a contented sigh. Joshua stroked his hair back, kissing his forehead. "Just us," he said softly.
Stephen dropped a sleepy kiss on Joshua's collarbone. "Just us."