Notes: Written for strangecobwebs.
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The first time they tried to have sex on a bed they ended up on the floor, tangled up in the sheets and laughing, blaming each other.
If you hadn't leaned so far over�
If you would just quit moving for one goddamn second�
If your nose wasn't so big�
What the hell does that have to do with�
Ray quieted him with a kiss, and didn't take his lips away as he negotiated his way through the maze of blankets, finding an awkward path through them until he was pressed up all along Vecchio's body. They pushed and kicked until the covers were half under the bed and the two of them were sprawled out on top of them, Ray stretched out on his back, Vecchio leaning over him, kissing his way down Ray's body. He paused in each of the spots that made Ray gasp, whimper, moan, and by the time he took Ray's cock in his mouth, Ray was writhing beneath him, desperate for it.
He wrapped one hand around the back of Vecchio's neck, feeling the prickle of his hair against his palm as Vecchio's lips moved on him, hot suction driving all thought from his mind. Then Vecchio was pulling back, his hands insistent on Ray's hips. Up, he was saying, and Ray, still in a haze of interrupted pleasure, mumbled in protest, but let Vecchio roll him over, pull him up to his knees.
Oh, he said, his voice loud in the silence of the room, and that was all he could say before Vecchio's fingers were sliding into him, slick and cool, warming with each thrust. He reached up to wrap his fingers around the wooden slat of the bedframe, and heard Vecchio make a small sound behind him. He let his head fall forward between his arms, stretching his neck, curving his back to allow Vecchio better access.
That was all the invitation Vecchio needed, and he was kneeling up behind Ray, his cock hot and slick as he leaned in, bracing his hands on either side of Ray, moving slowly, so fucking slowly, driving Ray a little more out of his mind with each tiny movement. Ray tightened his fingers on the bedframe and pushed back hard, hearing Vecchio gasp out something unintelligible as he sank deep into Ray.
Then it was easy, natural, just like every other time but better, the bedframe etching lines into Ray's palms, the carpet beneath his knees scraping slowly, leaving rug burns he'd feel for days, but none of that mattered because Vecchio was fucking him, so deep, so good, his hands tight on Ray's hips, his legs trembling against Ray's with each thrust.
Then they shifted a little, changed the angle, and Ray's cock was brushing up against the pile of blankets each time Vecchio moved. Soft, barely there, but enough, and Ray was coming, hard, his head tipping back as he cried out, fingers slipping on the bedframe. Vecchio moaned behind him and his hips moved in a stuttering rhythm against Ray as he came, fingers leaving marks on Ray's hips.
Ray's hands slipped from the bed and he collapsed down onto the blankets, Vecchio half on top of him. He wasn't sure how long they lay like that, but the bed was way too far up, and the blankets were almost as good.
Finally Vecchio moved, though, saying something about his back, and he dragged the blankets out from under Ray and pulled them onto the bed with him in a pile. That left Ray alone on the floor, which just wouldn't do, so he coaxed some energy back into his rubbery legs and made his way up to join Vecchio on the bed, squirming under the tangle of blankets.
There was only enough at the end of the bed to cover one pair of feet, since neither of them was in any shape to get up and fix the blankets, and Ray was determined that it would be his. He kicked Vecchio's legs out of the way and wrapped the covers around his own feet, and was almost asleep when Vecchio stole them back.
It went on for a few more minutes, both of them kicking halfheartedly at each other under a pile of blankets until Ray drifted off to sleep and dreamed about walking barefoot in the snow. Vecchio, it seemed, had won the battle.