Need Cape Nor Cowl

Part Seven: All That Matters

Wesker: Maybe if all else fails in life, you could always be a cook at the Hometown Buffet. Oh man, stomach full! Wesker hadn't felt this full since the entire Borgata had gotten together and they'd dined out seriously in celebration of a well done heist. Even the Batman had been clueless. 5.7 Million dollars in uncut diamonds. Sparklers had never been Scarface's thing, but to the right person.. Those days were over though. Yes over.

And he couldn't be happier. The meal he'd prepared for James had been simple by what one would have considered making a 'night' special. Steak, potatoes, even biscuits. An almost southern style to it. Even gravy. But when someone had spent so much time swallowing down pasta, oregano and Parmesan. It had been pretty damn good. Wesker rubbed his belly and sunk a little deeper against Gordon's side. It's all gonna go right here too, you know. You should start exercising.

They were on the couch. Wesker had snuggled himself down next to the Commissioner in a post-dinner lets- just-relax-or-it'll-not-agree-with-us-later kinda air. The small man was breathing softly, eyes half lidded under his thick reflective frames. He shrugged back into his Arkham pants, He'd washed them, though they were a little tattered and had a few burn holes in them, they still fit him better then anything in James closet. He was warm and full, but what was the most noticeable thing about the little guy tonight?

He was happy. And not just for a brief moment either. In fact, he'd been smiling all day. From the moment he'd gotten up, finished some chores, all through cooking the meal. Meeting James after the other man came home from work, through dinner. His face was almost starting to be sore for all of it. But god.. he was happy. He'd not even had a single thought about his other personality today either. By no-means, was he cured. But look at him!

Head rolled against Gordon's side and Wesker looked up past his own forehead at the other man. He grinned. " I don't think I should have had that last biscuit."

Gordon: The commissioner wasn't blind. He'd most definitely noticed that continuous smile on that happy face. Even as they lay there letting their food settle after watching what might possibly be the most boring show on earth. He'd be tempted to go to sleep, but he was too content to sleep. It was a really odd thing being so satisfied that he couldn't even drowse on it, more just lie there and soak it in.

He felt a gaze tickle under his jaw in the prodding way eyes do, and looked down. Then he smiled at the little man's observation. "Oh, I don't know." He reached down and patted Wesker's belly. "Can't tell a thing."

He could feel the food simmer warmly in his own stomach. Had he eaten this much takeout, he'd be sick at that moment. Home cooking, something he could really dig into, was something that he genuinely missed. It wasn't complicated, or fancy. It just tasted good and filled him up. "I think I'm too lazy to get up and go after the champagne," he mused thoughtfully and yawned, stretching his arms and then resting one over Wesker's shoulders and the other across the back of the couch.

Wesker: " Maybe later. " Or not at all. To tell the truth, Wesker wasn't all that found of alcohol. It had been that accursed drink that had landed him in the slammer in the first place. A drunken stupor and you could end up stabbing someone in a bar. A little Champagne wouldn't hurt, but Wesker would rather let everything in the world eat him up then EVER feel that drunken haze over his body again. But now.. not was not the time to think of things like that.

The pat to his tummy made he squeak slightly and he wiggled bare toes against the other arm of the couch. A full belly just had a way of sticking out even more and being so gosh darn pokeable. This is nice. This is really nice. When that arm rested over his shoulder he curled up one of his own hands and gave Gordon's a squeeze and finally lowered his face back down to his own chest. His grin settled down to a lazy smile and he let out one of the most relaxed sighs he'd probably ever huffed out in his life.

" I'll cook for you anytime you want James. " He said softly, breath washing over the hand he was holding onto. Wesker lazily rested his gaze on the Commissioners knuckles. He hadn't even bothered to glance at the TV. He just had no interest in the damn boob tube right now. No, lazy-cuddles with this man was so much better. A few more deep breaths and then Wesker was once more shifting his head against the other.

" Can.. Can I ask you a big favor, James? "

Gordon: Gordon looked down at him. "Yeah, of course... What do you want Arnold?"

He'd barely noticed, when did their relationship become one on a first name basis. It had slipped in there so easily it had escaped his attention, which was usually finely tuned. Maybe in his desire to help, not be lonely, and just to be with someone he opened himself up more than he conventionally expected.

"-You can ask me anything."

He was a little bit worried by what Arnold might ask of him. There was a serious tone to his voice. So many questions that it could possibly be. 'Never touch me that way again..' 'Please let me go...' 'I want Mr. Scarface again...' He shook his head before too many ideas could fill it. He didn't want to believe Arnold could be thinking these things. He just wanted to believe that he wanted to be with him, and in his deluded little world it would be okay for the commissioner of Gotham to harbor his little illicit love interest. Goddammit, Batman does it, why can't I? he briefly pondered.

Wesker: In a perfect little world perhaps, there might have not been a damn thing wrong with what they had going on here. Yet, even if it was wrong, amoral or otherwise, it WAS helping. It felt right. But this was Gotham after all, and things had a way of falling though the roof, crashing even. But it wasn't something near as horrible that Wesker wanted to get out to the other man, it was just...

" I'm sorry if I kept you up at all last night with all my tossing, I couldn't sleep right away. " Wesker tightened his grip momentary and flinted his brows. " I was thinking about everything that happened, And I think.. I think. " Mgh. It was hard to get it out. Wesker had rehearsed it in his head, but his mouth had never been good at spilling out what he wanted to say. The little guy finally shook his head and rolled on the couch. Moving so he could spin his butt and face the other man, still holding onto the hand.

" James, when they catch the Black Mask and there's a safe place at Arkham or somewhere for me.. I'd.. I'd like if you turned me back in. You could say you caught me, or I turned my self in. I don't want to hide from the world, I think.. " He paused to look down, loosing his smile for the first time today. He'd hate if this sounded wrong to Gordon. Of if the man was going to be displeased with him. Or even worse, thought he wanted to be away from him. " With a few more months of treatment, I could be better, for good. Mr. .. Mr. Scarface already seems so far away from me.. and I .. I don't miss him. " He bite down on his lip for a moment, brows flinching down.

" and then when I get out, I could come see you again, and maybe .. it would be okay ... and I wouldn't have to hide, myself, the way I feel.. please.. "

Eyes squeezed shut and he shook lightly. Not even sure how the other man would take that.

Gordon: He could feel his chest start to ache. That's what you wanted to do from the beginning, wasn't it Gordon? Why does it hurt you so much to hear now? You don't want to lose him after you've had this time with him. His bushy eyebrows furrowed together and his lids drooped. He couldn't mask the sadness in his expression, not like this.

"I just want you to be safe. But if that's what you want to do-" he said, putting his other hand to the back of Wesker's head. "-then when you get out, I'll be waiting at the gates." He scotched up from his lounging position and pulled the other's forehead against his.

He felt a lump in his throat catch a swallow of saliva built in his mouth. "You make me happy, Arnold. And if this would make you happy, then I'd gladly do it." He closed his eyes and nuzzled the tip of his nose. "I'll do as you say, just please don't hurt me."

Wesker: Wesker felt his own chest tightening as he saw the expression on Gordon's face go from happy and relaxed to a near pained sadness. At first he wanted to panic, but then the other man was pulling him closer, and he heard the words.

How can words be so damn good and hurt so much at the same time? Wesker sucked in a deep breath and nodded his head slowly against the commissioners forehead. " Yes.. I want t-to, I n-need to, for you.. "

Both arms reached up and he wrapped them around James's neck. Faces came so close their glasses clinked together. He'll miss you. And he'll be waiting for you. Waiting for you, Wesker. He could feel tears threatening, and he couldn't tell if they were because he was sad for them both, or overly joyous. Both feelings so mixed up and crazy in his head. He just knew one thing, really. One thing. He did, seriously love this man. So much, even after just a little time with him.

So much he'd go back to the place he hated the most, just so he could show the rest of Gotham just what he was willing to do for Gordon. Get better. Get Sane.

" I'll r-run to you. " Arnold whispered and swallowed down a sob. Instead of crying, he just pulled his face closer, pressing his mouth into the other's for a kiss. A deep kiss.

Gordon: He moaned softly and let his own sorrow seep out with the taste of Wesker's lips. He buried all those doubts he'd been having. He hadn't said any of the horrible things that he'd been expecting, and maybe, just maybe, he'd not only saved him from the Black Mask but himself.

Hell, maybe. Had Wesker ever gone this long out of Arkham without falling back on Scarface or socko or some other derivative of his needy psyche. Or had Wesker ever smiled this much in anyone's presence? By the time he got him back to Arkham this might only take a couple of months, if that.

Fingers twined in the thin strands of hair below his exposed cranium and Gordon indulged in tasting Arnold's tongue. He buried his heart-ache in the feeling that contact with Arnold brought bubbling up from his stomach.

His other arm wrapped around Wesker's back and pressed him against his chest. He could feel the cushier belly press against his firmer one and it made him smile into the kiss.

Wesker: Was it sad to think that it was probably himself that he needed the most saving from? The Black mask, any other enemy, those would all go away with time. He could be kept hidden and safe from these foes. But himself, that was a near different darkness. But look what Gordon had done already. A month, hell even two weeks ago, would Wesker have imagined he'd be sitting on the commissioners couch, kissing passionately, wanting to cure himself completely for anyone?

For a cop? No. But he was. Fingers found folds in the commissioners clothing and they wound into them. The little man pressed tighter, half pulling himself into the bigger man's lap. He moaned into the kissing, but for a few moments would not even in indulge the need to breath. It was just too good. Being held by someone that cared this much. He'd never had anyone like James. How could he possible want to let him go? How could he possible want to go on living like this if he couldn't safely be with him?

That's why you have to get better. That's why you must go away. Wesker finally pulled from the kiss, face flushed over and moved his head to the side of Gordon's face, panting into his ear for a moment. " I-I'll never hurt you.. never.. never.. "

His whole body was starting to feel hot. He had a full tummy, he was content, he was in these strong arms. This is how it should be. You'd work to keep this.

One could imagine, somewhere in the back of Wesker's head, Scarface would have been rattling around, cursing, screaming as he was being shoved even deeper. For the first time in many years, Arnold Wesker was almost just himself, and he wanted to be just one man. Just one. Not two.

Gordon: Those words were like a trigger. The last shreds of seeing Wesker like a criminal were pushed out of his mind. He'll never hurt you. You have to protect him now, Gordon. He rubbed the side of his face against Wesker's, slight stubble rubbing against smoother skin, closing his eyes contently. "Then I'll be here for you. And I'll protect you."

His tone was soft and comforting. He lowered his hands and patted Wesker's back. "And yes, your cooking definitely tastes good, and I wouldn't mind you doing it more."

He could feel Wesker's heart thumping against his chest and his body temperature sky-rocket. He does love you. After all he's been through and he's still willing to lay with you like this. "I want this to work so I can have something to come home to again, and not just the job."

Wesker: His heart couldn't have possibly been any louder then it was at this moment. Even all the times he'd been so scared. It was just so.. full. Thud. Thud. Thud. He could feel it throughout his body, echoing back from the other's own rhythm. Oh God, Wesker felt himself smile so big right there. Hearing those words coming from the others mouth. He gasped in a breath and gave a little laugh. Nuzzle into the other's cheek.

" I'm so.. so glad, James. I'll work so hard. I-I want to be there for you! " Wesker pulled his face away from the other's so he could look at him for a moment. Still grinning. " I'm glad you like my cooking.. "

For a moment Wesker just gazed at the other man. He'd settled with one leg slid over the other's lap and the other curling up around Gordon's back. Belly to Belly. Nose to Nose. It was so good to be with someone he wanted to be with. Gordon wasn't going to bark orders at him. Wasn't going to hit him. Wasn't going to belittle him, tell him he was crazy.

Most of all. This man wasn't going to go away. Wesker believed that.

I'd share the rest of my life with him. No more crime. No more Scarface. He'd give him everything he had to offer. Everything. Wesker felt his stomach gurgle, and not because of the food. Seeping even hotter. His lip quirked and he blushed. " I ..I don't wanna watch anymore TV, James. " He whispered, and then nuzzled the bigger man's mustache with his nose, a wrinkle to the tickle, and then with a small chuckle, he licked it.

Arnold Wesker being..suggestive? Lord, Gordon, What have you done?

Gordon: I've seen women act less swoony than this little guy! Gordon briefly thought as Wesker laughed and nuzzled him. He dully lifted the remote to turn off the chattering show and wrinkled his nose. "I didn't want to watch it to begin with."

Whoooooa wait a minute! The tones and the words settled in, making James sit up a little more with the shorter man on his lap. He started to ask, thinking about it. His words caught. He was afraid of scaring him off. But after yesterday... could there be any mistake? "Do you want to go back to the room, Arnold?"

That was sort of a dumb thing to ask. Of course he wouldn't want to do it in here on the couch. It was the only way he could check though without blurting out "do you want me?" going on the feel of lingering moisture on his mustache alone. He reached around him again, hugging again. This time pressing another hardness besides his firm stomach muscles against him. A growing one beneath Wesker, intrigued by the slight insinuation it had been given.

Wesker: Had it really not been his first option when those words left Wesker's mouth? The smaller man blinked a moment as he was hugged tighter to the other man's chest. He felt Gordon stiffen and poke under him. That helped the rest of his teasing giddiness seep right down into his own groin and he was pretty quickly poking right back.

" Mmmhmm, p-please? " Wesker smiled against the other's mustache and pressed another little kiss to the man's lips. He felt almost a little light headed at the moment. His arms curled more secure around Gordon's back, then loosened, then tightened. You should get off his lap, you really don't expect him to carry you into the bedroom do you? Honestly Wesker didn't know. He wanted to go, now, but didn't want to let go.

So until Gordon either stood up he was gonna do the next best thing. Suck face. Silly little man, lips pressed again more passionately, wanton even. Panting between flickers of tongue. It only took a moment of this before he was so hard himself he was starting to throb.

He wanted him. And that was probably one of the best things he could do on his own. Wanting someone, not for personal gain, or for money, or because they wanted to use him for their own needs. Wanting Gordon just because the man was there for him. Because he loved him.

Pant. " I really want you too. "

Gordon: The breath that Gordon drew in threw his nose was sharp and noisy to his ears. His response to that was muffled into the kiss, a string of desperate noises punctuated by nibbling Wesker's lower lip and tickling it with his mustache. His hands were on his bottom again, squirmed between his own muscular thighs and meaty handfuls of flesh, this time resting instead of patting.

He tensed his fingers and strained his legs to lift up Wesker. He was small, and even with the belly he didn't weigh all that much, so Gordon could carry him fairly easily. Just because he didn't fight crime in Spandex didn’t mean that he was in bad shape, nor did his age contribute much to his physical condition but the occasional backache and indigestion.

Once he was standing, he struggled to keep kissing him as he carried him toward the other room. He could still feel the return of his physical reaction in Wesker bearing in on him, pleading to be serviced, not that Gordon would have a problem with doing that. He had to lean back against the hallway wall at one point, but other than that kept his course true all the way to his bed, only breaking the kiss to drop Wesker onto the bed with an easy bounce.


Wesker: Honestly, for a moment, with the staggering display of kissing and touching all the way to the bedroom, one might have forgotten these were middle-aged men and not fluttery young lovers. Ha. But if it proved anything, everyone was still capable of passion. Even an old hard-worked cop and a criminally insane schizophrenic!

Arnold gasped and moaned and even chuckled a bit on the fancy fleeting toward the room. Arms wrapped tightly around the other's neck and shoulders. Indulging in kisses anytime there was a moment too. Glasses clinging together, getting smudged and steamed up from hot escapes of breaths from their noses. The aftertaste of dinner mixed with Gordon's own spit only fueled the desire that was bubbling up in him. Hands on his backside, well that just set the whole thing explosive, didn't it. Bed!

The bounce made him grin a moment, and he paused to take in a few deep breaths, hands slowly reaching up to take hold of Gordon's tie, set of ten, half with calluses, half without unraveled the item and pulled it from James' neck.

The bed creaked slightly as he shifted himself to sit up higher to reach the other's mouth.

You're in his room, in his bed. You're about to willing go through with something that has tormented you for years. Why aren't you scared? Lip was nibbled and Wesker reached up to Gordon's face to pull off his glasses.

Because. I trust him. I want him. I don't need anymore reasons.

Gordon: His hands fell to either side of Wesker as he leaned in, fingers splayed rigidly on the covers as he began to press his weight on the bed. Blood rushed to his head, turning his face crimson not from embarrassment but sheer anticipation. He leaned forward, bringing up a knee to rest on the inside of Arnold's knee.

He's going to let me. Maybe. He'll probably let me. God I want him to let me, please let me, Arnold. The thoughts rung in Gordon's ears almost as loudly as if he were shouting them. He had no need to shout though. They came out loud enough through his busy lips and tongue, that just couldn't get enough of the other's taste.

He brought up his other knee, resting the full weight of his body on the bed with a pronounced creak of the springs. His legs were between Wesker's, but his body was propped over him still, not applying any pressure to the smaller form beneath him.

Never in his life would he have guessed he would find himself in a position like this with an out of shape bonified menace to the general public, but yet here he was, trying to breathe in every breath of him and tented like Barnum and Bailey's had come to his pants.

His hands went down to the hem of Arnold's shirt and hiked it up just enough to feel the skin above the hem of his asylum wear pants. His calloused, rough fingers found the skin warmer than when he woke up touching it in his sleep, and he placed his own heated palms flat against his upper hips.

Wesker: As far as it seemed, Arnold had ever intention of 'letting' Gordon do as he wanted. He wasn't pulled away, or cringing. The touches to his hot skin, the idle pull of clothing, it was all very good to him right now. As the other man pressed onto the bed, Wesker scooted back to give him room. Legs splayed on either side of the taller man's hips. Leaning back, not fully back, just enough to keep enough space between them so he could continue to pull at the Commissioners clothes.

Fingers tugged at the collar, then began to work at each button. He'd expose that still hard chest if his life depended on it. The other's glasses had already been set off to the side, though Wesker still wore his own. He was far too intrigued by the other man to worry about himself. Actually enjoying undressing this man? He wanted to see him? All of him. Yes.. yess yess.

The smaller man panted into Gordon's mouth as he finally got the last button undone, and then hands slipped to the other's belt and fly. He's good with his hands. Hell he could work Scarface's intricate controls with one hand and fumble with any other item with his other. One had to be impressed by that. Belt was popped and zipper dragged down, giving the other some much needed release on the tension in his pants.

The feel of fingers on his fleshy hips made Wesker groan a bit. Touching. He's touching me, and I like it. Now the little guy certainly wasn't even remotely as in shape as the other, but he wasn't fat or dumpy. He just had a bit of a pot belly, and it wasn't even big enough to hang over his cock or anything. He just ate too much pasta! The rest of him was pale, thin and soft, with the occasional scar from bad run-ins with the batman, and one the commissioner certainly wouldn't miss right on his hip, where a bullet had grazed him, Thank you. Mr. Scarface. Thank god the puppet had missed.

Wesker ran fingers into the other man's pants and teased along his shaft. It sent a trickle up his own spine.

Gordon: Cool air rushed against Gordon's torso as the buttons were popped, heat flowing out from where it had been entrapped in his clothes. His tongue lapped into the other's panting mouth, dabbing into the other's moist texture through his own parted lips. Exhales mingled and his still-chiseled chest heaved with each longing breath, marked by age mainly by graying hair.

He wasn't lacking in scars of his own, but none were terribly disfiguring. Most serious injuries had been nicely patched by the experienced physicians of the hospital, giving Wesker an excellent landscape to train those skilled finger's over. And when those skilled fingers freed him from his confines, exposing most of his torso, Gordon let out a deep, appreciative sigh and began to slide Wesker's shirt up over his little pot of a belly, placing his weight on his knees.

He shivered as the shirt made it to the chest, then reluctantly dislodged Wesker's hand from stroking him. He pulled it off over his head, pulling back to issue a very vocal breath and then tossed the inside out piece of clothing off to the side. One of his hands slid around the back of Wesker's head and pulled him into another needy kiss.

The other ran down over his chest, careful to slow over each tiny scar as he memorized with his hands what his blurry vision and closed eyes couldn't make out. They went lower, to his stomach, thumb pressing playfully into his naval as it went down. It was true, it was hard to believe their age with the anxiousness they treated one another with, especially as he fingers undid the Arkham pants and slid into the front to make direct contact with what he knew was bulging underneath.

Wesker: Whoops, there went those glasses nearly. Wesker had to shamble to save his frames as the shirt was pulled up over his head and tossed. It mussed up was left of his white hair and he wrinkled his nose slightly. He finally pulled the inch thick circles from his frame and nudged them toward where Gordon's were. Hopefully they wouldn't roll onto them later and break them in passion throes.

It would really be funny the next morning. Imagining Gordon having to make excuses for broken frames to Bullock or the female cop. I sat on them, 'cause it certainly couldn't be I was sleeping with the enemy. The low giggle that escaped Wesker was quickly turned into a moan as Gordon's hand slid into his pants. The small man jerked and panted. Mouth clamping up against the other's again. Hips jerked slightly, rubbing that heated flesh into the other's palm.

He felt high and giddy. The cool air was making his flesh goose, but he was also starting to sweat with exhilaration. The mixture of hot and cold just made his skin extra sensitive. He finally allowed his back to slip completely to the sheet behind him. Fingers entwined into the open shirt and tugged the other man to follow, and then began pushing the shirt off those broad shoulders.

Gordon was impressive, despite his age. Body still hard, still in wonderful shape. He was still even damn sexy with gray hair. For a moment Wesker almost wondered what the cop saw in him, but the stroking hand expelled those kind of thoughts. What really mattered other then the fact that they wanted each other?

Mh, yes. Wesker DID want him. All of him. And he couldn't even remember ever having these kinds of thoughts before about anyone. Not this badly. A harsh breath was dragged in and Wesker trilled into Gordon's mouth, tongue swiping deeper.

Gordon: Gordon lifted his hand off of Wesker to shrug off the shirt, and his feet swiveled a bit to kick off his shoes, sending them thunking to the floor. Before they returned to him, he gripped the waistband of Wesker's pants and began pulling them off, squirming them between cover and cushy posterior, then up over hips.

He leaned back out of the kiss and had to lift up Wesker slightly to slip the pants off of his legs. While he'd done everything up to then with anxiousness, he slowed as he exposed the last bit of him. He had to soak in the realization, the shock that it was happening. He really wants you, he's touching you like he wants you.

He brought his hands to prop himself over Wesker again. He couldn't see his face clearly, but he could feel the heat coming off of him. He closed his eyes and just felt it, lowering himself until the tips of their charged heads were touching, sending an electric shock through him.

"I want you," he said bluntly, feeling the words slip with ease from his lips. He lowered himself to his elbows, hands sliding behind Arnold's shoulder's and mouth finding the other's again. His back tensed as he rubbed himself against the other's cock, subsiding the urge to grind and soothe that lingering ache that came with being that hard.

Wesker: Back arched to help lift his hips to get those dinky old Arkham pants off him. Wesker let out a few more pants as the items were pulled completely free from his body. Toes curled for a moment before ankles rehit the sheets.

Wesker felt his throat catch when he heard those words fall from the other's lips. Even his chest tightened for a moment. He wants you. He wants you in that way. Are you ready for this? Can you handle it?

It would be a lie to say for a few seconds, the past wasn't slapped Wesker in the face. A small whimper left him. But then Gordon was kissing him deeply again. He had soft hands against his skin. His mouth was hot and gentle and good. Their cocks were rubbing together making the smaller man suddenly groan out with a fresh throb of horiness. No, it was more then that. It circled right damn deep inside him and made him ache in want. So hard he couldn't deny it himself. You can't deny something like that.

Arms wrapped around the other's shoulders and Wesker clutched at Gordon's back and thighs shifted apart more, willingly, bare skin scrapping against the cloth that still housed the commissioners things. He let out a desperate pant between kisses and urged back. " I want you too. "

Every doubt was shoved right out of his mind, just as hard as he had stuff Scarface down into his psyche. " Please. " Of course they would need something, but at this very moment, Wesker would have probably let Gordon take him like that. He had truly learned to trust this man that much.

Gordon: He couldn't even think to restrain himself anymore. Not at this point, with their bodies so close and rubbing together. Had Wesker changed his mind at that point, it might have caused an emotional break in the commissioner. He felt so good, so close. Sweat was collecting between them just from the heat of their own bodies.

But that wasn't enough. He needed to be closer. He needed to feel him around him.

Don't hurt him. You've going to hurt him if you do.

At the same time, though, here Wesker was pleading. Was that what he was asking for? It had to be. There was no doubt. Another throb coursed through him that wanted to be satisfied and rubbing just wasn't going to work. He lifted his lips from Wesker's. "Tell me when to stop."

He pulled back from kissing him and rifled his hand through his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lotion that had been useless to him up to this point (came in one of the gift baskets the department handed out to it's workers at Christmas). Leaning back again he filled his hand with a thick amount, and lowered it onto his anxious cock. For a moment his lower lip disappeared under his mustache as he bit it. It was cool, almost cold against his steaming skin.

Once he was done he lowered himself back down, hands resting on each side of Wesker as he began to place his weight on him. He buried his face in his collarbone and slid his arms back around his torso again. "Only when you're ready..."

Wesker: The cool air that rushed to his skin as James pulled away to find the lotion was almost torture for the little guy. He felt his skin prickle, his sweat cool, his cock throb. Every muscle in his body wanted him to snap back up and pulled the other man too him again. But he didn't he laid patiently, sucking in breaths for a second, trying to calm down a little.

How did you go from cringing from every touch to it being almost painful to have this man pull away from you? Cause it was. By the time Gordon was curling his arms back around his body and he felt the slightly weight baring down on him, Wesker was almost whining in anticipation. He curled his own arms back around the other shoulders and rub back against him. Sticky lotion, warmed by the other's throbbing body heat smeared against the skin of his inner thigh and against the base of his own cock. It sent a white lick of demand even lower.

When he was ready. Gordon was willing to wait till Wesker told him it was okay. Arnold felt his eyes go wet, but not because he was scared or sad.

Legs lifted a bit and Wesker nudged his ankles against the back of Gordon's knees. He needed him. He wanted him inside, it didn't matter what had happened in the past. He needed to feel him.

He dragged his mouth against the other cheek and laid a few panty kisses on the other man's jawbone, dragging moist skin across the sweaty flesh and soft damp strands of hair between ear and face. " J-james I.. "

He swallowed hard and pressed his face as tight as he could into the other's throat. " Please.. y-yes. "

Gordon: Strong fingers held to his shoulders as Gordon positioned himself. The sticky feel of lotion and sweat collected the heat between them, making it feel like a million degrees. His head, already seeping at the prospect of being inside of Wesker, was placed prime to enter with just the slightest movement of back muscles and pelvis.

He gritted his teeth and pressed his lips against the nape of the other's neck, mustache prickling at flesh. His breath caught in his lungs as he tense up his back muscles and started to shove. Not blunt or quick, but slowly and gradually, creeping up into him. The more he felt Arnold around him, the more there was no past. Nothing but the present. The Black Mask, Arkham, the GCPD. They were all lost in an explosion of feeling that caused him to cry through his clenched teeth against the other's skin.

His forearms tensed and he held tightly as he arched his back. He pushed further up, deep, until he found his hilt, and held himself there. He wanted to savor it, to enjoy it.

But it was too much. The stay was brief as he pulled out mostly and shoved in again, the slow thrust making his thighs strain and quiver with control. God he feels good.

Wesker: Wesker's own panted breaths caught for a moment when he felt Gordon starting enter. For a second every muscle in his body attempted to tighten and contract, but he willed away the instinct and relaxed, shifting hips just slightly to make the transcend easier.

A heightened groan escaped the little man as he felt the other sliding into him. The gentleness of the act kept it from hurting anymore then an odd nudge of discomfort at being stretched after such a long time of no activity. Yet the more he felt the other deeper inside him, the more it developed right into that needy ache that made him want to roll his hips and cling tighter to the other man. It's good, it's really good. A throaty groan escaped Arnold as Gordon hilted and just held there for a moment.

Muscles tenses, tightened. His ankles pushed lightly. Almost subconsciously urging the other to move. Wesker ran hands across Gordon's sweaty back and he moved the back of his head to the covers to kiss at the others mouth. He could taste tears, salt and had no idea they were coming from his own eyes. It was just that good to him.

And then he moved. Slow steady, A movement of hips and it nudged right up against that place deep inside that made the little guy grip tightly to his lover, Yes, lover, they'd made that transformation completely now, and cried out the others name into the kiss.

He was overly ready, and his hips nudge, urging for more. He'd never of thought he'd be here. On this man's bed, with this man inside him, but like Gordon, here...

.. nothing else in the world matter right now.

Gordon: He turned his head to find Wesker's lips. He could taste the salt there that wasn't there before, but he couldn't pinpoint whether it was from tears or being pressed against his heated skin. He drank in the taste with his bits of kisses, broken as control of his mouth was lost with every thrust in. He found himself desperately clinging.

He hadn't expected it to be like this. Not even that day in the bathroom could he have dreamed it. How hot or tight or desperately hungry he was to go faster and harder. Now that he knew he could easily get addicted. He didn't have time to worry about that now though, or any future separation of them for any course of time.

He was so encompassed by the blinding feeling he could barely breath. Whatever kisses were being given deteriorated into short breaths against Arnold's lips. He felt a trickle of sweat drip down his nose, distracting him only minutely from the white hot shock threatening to envelope him. He couldn't hold back anymore, he had to cross that threshold.

So he did speed up. He did thrust harder. Not enough to hurt the other, but enough for the springs to creak in protest and his fingers to cling with a white knuckled grip.

Wesker: The extra sped and vigor that was slowly being put into each thrust was not taken with pain or fear. Infact, Arnold seemed to relish in it. Any clenching doubts or holdouts his muscles had attempted were gone. His back arched lightly, the sheet clinging to his sweaty skin each time he lifted it, accepting the complete dive inward of Gordon's cock.

It didn't need to be furiously hard and bruising to be delicious. A steady pace and the clutching of fingers, and Wesker couldn't even muster the strength to kiss the other man, even though he truly wanted too. Every breath was wasted on a gasp or crying plea for more. For a man who was hushed into silence every moment by a spiteful Dummy, Wesker was a noisy little lover. Each thrust was met with a churn of hips, a tug of ankles, a exclaim past sweaty lips. All for this man.

It was so good, he wanted it to never end. But things like this can't go on. Wither by his age, or so long not having someone inside, Arnold didn't hold out very long. Amazing, that he didn't even need to reach between them and touch himself. Gordon got him off completely with just moving inside him alone. The little man's eyes squeezed shut tight and his spine quacked even harder as he felt himself reaching the breaking point. He tried to warn, but any coherent words were swallowed up by the gasping moan he gave.

Body tightened around the other man as he came, His shoulders, his hips, his cock. All squeezed. Hot white splurting against those strong tummy muscles, fingers dug, and he lost himself completely under the other man's desperate moving body.


Gordon: He hadn't been quite as loud as Wesker as he thrust, though he hadn't been quiet. Though when Arnold tightened around him it made him cry out. Had someone been in front of the house, they'd have heard it. It would have been Arnold's name, a decree of the sensation that was coursing through him just by this man being there with him, letting him be inside him and sharing his pleasure, had he been capable of making consonants. Instead, it was just a desperate plea to share the release.

One that didn't go unanswered. His entire back shook and he had to pull his arms out from beneath Wesker to keep from squeezing him too tightly and possibly hurting him. James propped himself up over him, peeling away and sending a shock of cool air between them as his hips jerked, filling Wesker so full he could feel dampness that wasn't the lotion trickle out around his cock.

He slid out, staying propped above his lover. His hair was wet with sweat and for the moment all he could do was pant. His vision was blurry, but he doubted even with the glasses he would have been able to see Wesker clearly the world was in such a haze around him. His lips started to form words, but there was nothing he could say, nothing that could describe the way that felt.

Wesker: Oh god. Ohgod. Ohgod god god. If ever the accused lord smiled down at least once on Arnold Wesker. It was at this moment, right now. He heard his name, felt James jerked and then that hot flood deep inside him. It was just .. everything. Everything and only that mattered right then.

And then for a moment, there was just the sounds of their dragging breaths. Wesker kept his eyes closed, feeling his heart pound so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to pop. Wet lips were licked and he panted out " j-jame.. james.. "

His whole body felt so wonderful. It was like, at least for a moment, anything anyone had ever done to him was gone. Replaced by that awesome delicious feeling that Gordon had left him with. He'd basked deeply in it, till the splattering of salty sweat began raining over his chest and face, he opened his eyes and looked up at his lover.

His eyes were blurry too. But he could make out James, and Arnold let out a happy sob, lips curved into a smile and he reached up and tugged the larger man back down on him. Panty mouth was almost viciously slanted over the other and Wesker hugged Gordon tightly. Uncaring of his weight, uncaring if he squished him, just as long as he could hold him. He was here, it was what mattered.

" T-thank you.. Thank you.. Thank you. "

Gordon: Gordon was more than happy to let his arms relax and rest his weight back down on Wesker. He found himself worn out after their exhausting stint. "You-" kiss "-are-" kiss "-welcome," he said to Arnold. He held his face in his hands to nuzzles his lips with his own.

It'll be hard to give him up when you catch the Black Mask, he thought to himself. No, don't think about that now. You've got him now and that's what matters.

Of all the inmates in Arkham Asylum, it was a surprise that Arnold Wesker would be the one to turn James Gordon criminal. It was a huge sacrifice for him but at the moment, lying with him on the bed just feeling the air from the overhead fan, it was all worth it.

Wesker: Indeed. Of all the inmates.. but here, it was perfect, and it was for good of them both. What could be criminal about it? Wesker indulge into the kisses, crying so happily. He swallowed down anything else he had to say, because.. there wasn't anything that could be said, except more thank yous. He just kissed the other man back and knew.. that nothing.. nothing.. could ruin this. Nothing. How could the world be that cruel?

--

The sheets had been kicked off hours later. Having been far to sweaty and sticky to sleep comfortably. They'd washed, cuddled more and then finally fallen asleep curled against each other. Wesker's breath dragged so sweetly against Gordon's chest. For the first time in years, the little guy hadn't been shivering to himself, clinging to his arms while he slept. He'd looked.. so relaxed.

The room was so silent save for their breaths luring against each other. The clock on the night stand read 1:42 AM and loudly clicked the two into a three. With that, Wesker suddenly sat up
in the bed. He didn't gasp, or even really look like he'd woken from a dream. The small man turned for a moment and glanced down at Gordon, sleeping so sweetly with a smile on his face, and his brows knotted down into a Vee. His lip twitched. A small noise escaped him and he slowly slid from the bed. He took a moment to snatch up his glasses and shrug into his pants before heading into the hallway.

Wesker stepped quietly through the living room and entered the kitchen. He pulled out a kitchen chair and plopped down into it. Fingers tapped on the table as he looked around for a moment. Aha, He leaned in and grabbed the cordless phone and dialed. A shake of his head and he pulled it to his ear. A calloused finger played idly with a crack in the table while it rang.

It was answered. Wesker grinned. " Dis the Iceberg? Yah it is.. Patch me through tah Roman Sionis, I know he's hangin' with that durty burd right now. " He kept his voice low, but the thing was, that gruff slanged groan that was pushing past his lips WASN'T his voice. That voice belong too...

" Duh ask me hows I gots this number, if I's gots it, obviously yah shouldn't be questioning me about it, Got it? Ahaha.. good, now patch me through. " Wesker reached across the kitchen table and picked up a pen and shifted a piece of paper out of Gordon's case files, and began to scrawl something on the white surface. " Hey dere.. Black Mask? Yah it's me.. look I's gots some beef with yah.. lets have a chat.. "

-

Twenty minutes later, Wesker shuffled back into the bedroom, smirking and shifted into the darkness. He glanced at the bed at Gordon's sleeping form, Again his brows went down. " Son of a bitch. " He muttered and stepped around to Gordon's side of the bed. He slowly began reaching for the side lamp, glasses sheening what little light was in the room, maybe just a quick bash in the head, but his hand suddenly paused. And Wesker let out a soft squeak.

Gordon: Gordon's side chilled a little. The warm spot on the bed had had too long to cool, and the squeak was the last thing he needed to pluck him into wakingness. And there they were. Like a wild forest animal, gleaming at him. Those mocking lenses. It made him jerk, knocking his earlier retrieved glasses from the end-table, then feel to turn on the light. He blinked at the man standing there.

"What's wrong Arnold? Why are you up?" he asked with concern.

Wesker: " Huh? " Wesker actually jumped back a little and whimpered. He suddenly shook his head and blinked a few times under his lenses. What the?

Why the heck was he standing here? He reached up and rubbed at his forehead and looked down at Gordon's concerned face. He bit his lip and then just shook his head. " I.. I dunno.. I think I was sleepwalking. "

A low nervous giggle left him and he reached up to take off his glasses. He set them onto the nightstand and the moved to climb into the bed with Gordon. Moving back into that cooling spot and snuggled up to the other man, Resting his head on Gordon's chest. " I use to do it a lot.. when big changes were happening.. I guess that would explain.. " He sighed and snuggled. " I'm gonna go back to sleep. " He laid a kiss on Gordon's mouth. " G'night James. "

He closed his eyes. Having NO Idea how fucked up this little paradise was about to become. For now, Wesker would go back to sleep, unbeknownst to the evil that will still clawing desperately back to the surface.