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“Finally out of that god damned cold,” Richard exclaims happily, closing the front door behind him with more force than absolutely necessary once Oliver has stepped through as well. The apartment isn’t heated yet, with Schneider being out for the majority of the month and Oliver having been out with Richard in the first place, but at least the icy cold wind no longer blows against his revealed skin. Despite Richard having been bundled up as much as he could and only having a strip around his eyes revealed against the wind the wind had cooled him through and through.
Oliver has already stepped further into the apartment by the time that Richard has set the groceries down and taken his gloves off. He’s standing over the heater, clearly hoping for it to heat up quickly. Richard turns on the tap for hot water, holding his hands underneath the slowly warming spray that comes out. The wind had been icy enough to seep straight through his gloves and to his hands.
“Oli. Water’s warming up faster than the heater,” Richard calls out, withdrawing his own hands once they’re sufficiently warmed. “I’ll turn on the shower.”
“Please shower quickly,” Oliver pleads even as he eagerly holds his own hands underneath the warm spray.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Get in the shower with me. There’s enough room for both of us and you’re going to be taken ill if you don’t warm up quickly. I don’t remember it ever being this cold,” Richard responds.
“It hasn’t. Not while we were alive at least. It was on the radio earlier today. It’s the coldest day they’ve measured since 1953.”
“You couldn’t have said before we went to do groceries?” Richard asks in disbelief once he’s turned the shower on so the water can warm up before they get in. Not that Richard believes it could possibly make them feel colder even if they stepped underneath the cold shower.
Oliver, rather than answering the question, opens up the fridge to show exactly why they’d gone out in this ridiculous cold. There’s a half-full carton of milk and some cheese. Not enough to throw together any meal, since they’d also needed to buy new bread. Knowing it’s the coldest temperature in 29 years wouldn’t have changed that they’d need to go to the store.
“Right. It wouldn’t have been any use if you’d said it,” Richard acknowledges. He then sighs, glancing at the bags of groceries still at the front door. “Let’s leave those for after the shower. It’s not as if it’ll spoil from the heat.” Oliver snorts a little about the comment before following Richard into the bathroom.
Richard unzips his coat with a pang of regret, despite the prospect of the hot shower. He’d kept it on after stepping inside for a reason. Still, he takes it off, followed by the scarf he pulls through the sleeve before hanging it on the doorknob. The rest of his clothes could be strewn into the corner, replaced by a different pair of clothes tomorrow if they remain a little moist after the shower. His spare jacket isn’t nearly as thick as this one, however. Richard bends down to unlace his shoes. His fingers are a little clumsy on the knot, due to not being warmed up thoroughly under the tap. Richard loses his balance before he finishes untying them.
“Careful,” Oliver urges, easily catching Richard despite being busy undressing himself. Oliver’s made quicker progress than Richard however. Where Richard really only has his jacket and scarf off, Oliver’s upper body is already undressed and Richard sees that he’d been in the process of taking off his jeans when Richard fell over.
“I’m always careful. I just wanted to be wrapped up in your arms,” Richard teases with a grin. Oliver rolls his eyes, though not without his lips forming a little grin, continuing the process of getting undressed.
“Richard Kruspe. Always wanting a pair of hands to catch him when he’s being clumsy again.”
“Again?” Richard asks, huffing a little as he takes offense. “I’ll have you know I’m not the clumsiest person in this apartment.”
“Clumsiest who lives in this apartment? Probably not. Clumsiest present here? Definitely,” Oliver counters. He’s already fully undressed as he says it, stepping into the warm shower with a content sigh.
“Oh come on, that’s not fair. You’re just about the most well-balanced dude I know. I’ve heard people compare you to a cat with how graceful you move.”
“Graceful as a cat?” Oliver sounds amused. “Let me guess, it was your poet friend who said that? I think people generally don’t describe men as graceful.”
“Why not?” Richard asks, finally winning the battle with his shoelaces and stepping out of the now loosened shoes, his fingers quickly moving to the button of his jeans.
“What do you mean, why not? When’s the last time you’ve ever called a man graceful?”
“You should rinse the water out of your ears, Oli. I just did,” Richard points out, glad his cold fingers don’t struggle with his button and zipper. He steps out of his jeans blindly while grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head.
“Last time before that then, smartass.”
“Why would I have said it before? Normal men don’t move that gracefully,” Richard asks, finally stepping out of his own boxers and joining Oliver in the shower. The taller man makes way for him easily and Richard closes his eyes in contentment as the warm water streams across his cold body.
“I’m not entirely sure whether to take that as a compliment or as an insult.” Richard curiously opens his eyes to look at the man doubting his statement.
“What do you mean you don’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult? How would it be an insult?”
“Normal men don’t move gracefully? What eliminates me from the ‘normal’ category?” Oliver asks. Richard feels the corners of his lips tilt upwards a little. Oliver can be adorably confused sometimes.
“Oh, shush, Oli. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“So it’s a compliment?”
“Fishing for compliments, are you?” Richard laughs, glancing at Oliver’s face. “Fine. You are a wonderfully elegant man.” Richard steps a little to the side so that Oliver can take a step closer to enjoy the hot water as well.
“You’re one to speak about ‘fishing for compliments’,” Oliver counters, turning around so his other side can enjoy the warm water too. “Fisherman would be a perfect occupation for you.” Richard grins a little at the moment before he slaps Oliver across his arm. Oliver laughs even as he draws his arm back, an adorably goofy sound that easily spreads through the room. “Oh don’t hit me. It’s true. When’s the last time you stepped out of the bathroom without asking ‘Does my hair look alright?’”
“Well, I do have to know if my hair looks alright. Unlike yours, mine actually can look like a mess,” Richard protests.
“I can help you shave. Then yours can’t look like a mess anymore either.”
“Well- let’s not, please,” Richard responds, shaking his head. “I rather like having hair, even if it sometimes has a mind of its own.”
“Well, at least you have one functional mind then. That’s good to know.”
“You’re a cheeky bastard today, aren’t you?” Richard can’t help but laugh.
“Very cheeky,” Oliver confirms, turning around again and wiggling his ass cheeks. Richard spanks his hand across one of those cheeks, making Oliver turn around again quickly.
“That’s for making that terrible pun.”
“Oh. So what if I make another one?” Oliver challenges. Richard arches an eyebrow inquisitively.
“Make another one? My, my, Oliver. Do you like getting spanked? By me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Oliver huffs. “I haven’t gotten any action in weeks. Anyone will do at this point.” Richard remains silent in the face of that comment, although he does pat Oliver’s shoulder in silent support.
He can relate anyway. It’s been a while for him too. These past weeks he’s mostly been holed up inside the apartment, trying to write new music. He’d been dragged out of the house a handful of times, but each time he’d been dragged into a bar or a club, inspiration had struck him and he’d rushed home to get it noted down before it’d undoubtedly slip from him.
He’s just about to open his mouth and ask Oliver if they wouldn’t go out together sometime this week, other than today given the insane cold that would likely only increase by the time the sun has set, when he feels Oliver’s hands in his hair.
“Oli, that’s the wrong head,” Richard informs him.
“I thought it’d be a bit forward to go for your other head straight away,” Oliver murmurs, his mouth surprisingly close to Richard’s ear. He’d turned around again while Richard was in his thoughts, clearly. Richard can’t help but turn around and face Oliver incredulously now and Oliver merely gives Richard a coy shrug. “What? It can’t be anything other than a while for you too. You’ve barely set foot inside for a several weeks.”
“Yeah,” Richards nods his agreement. “That’s why I was going to ask if you wanted to go out sometime this week.”
“And go back into that cold? I’ll acknowledge it probably won’t be this cold all week, but it’ll still be freezing cold. We could just- help each other instead and stay inside all warm and comfortable.” Realizing Oliver appears to be serious, Richard can’t help but take a quick step back to think, even if the spray of warm water misses his body more now. They are roommates, after all. Oliver isn’t a quick pick-up at the bar. It’s someone he has to live with. Then again, Oliver has never displayed a genuine interest in him before, so it’s unlikely he would develop that interest after a quick night of helping each other. Not to mention- it really is ridiculously cold and it’s unlikely to be much warmer by the end of the week. And Richard really could use the release.
“Fine,” Richard eventually nods.
“You make it sound like a true festivity,” Oliver drawls. Richard rolls his eyes and slaps Oliver again before stepping closer. “Now let me finish your hair.” Richard stands still as Oliver’s hands thread through his hair again, spreading the shampoo before pulling slightly on Richard’s head to make him lean back so he can rinse it out again.
Richard carefully opens one eye, alert for any indication soap is about to slide his face instead of off the back of his head, to be able to grab the sponge and the soap. He spreads the soap on the sponge while Oliver releases his hand, but before he can begin washing himself, Oliver takes it from him. And begins to scrub Richard clean.
“I’m not a child, Oli. I can clean myself.”
“Stop complaining,” Oliver hushes him. “I’m trying to set the mood here. I feel sorry for any partners you’ve had or are still going to have.” There’s a definite trickle of amusement in Oliver’s voice but Richard decides to refrain from arguing. Oliver does have a point, after all.
Richard relaxes instead, allowing Oliver’s hand to guide the sponge over his arm. Richard easily lifts his other arm when Oliver urges him to, making Oliver repeat the motions on that side. The sponge then follows Richard’s shoulder to wash across his back. The texture of the sponge is nicely soft and Richard can easily relax as Oliver rubs the sponge in circles along his back. Oliver dips the sponge slightly further when he reaches below Richard’s armpits to wash his side as well, making Richard twitch a little when it tickles.
Richard can hear Oliver chuckle behind him even as he gives a little extra attention to Richard’s other side, making him even more ticklish. Richard squirms underneath the touch, happy when Oliver retracts the sponge back to his back. It’s sensitized his nerves, however, and his body is now anxiously following Oliver’s movements, half-afraid he’s going to go back to tickling.
Fortunately, Oliver deems his sides sufficiently soaped up for the time being and rubs circles along Richard’s lower back instead. Then trailing lower and across Richard’s own ass cheeks only briefly before lowering down further to brush over the outside of Richard’s leg. From his hips to his foot, Oliver cleans first the outside of one leg, then the outside of the other leg. Oliver then lays the sponge against the inside of Richard’s ankle and moves it up. Those little circles inching higher and higher until Oliver reaches the sensitive inside of Richard’s thigh. And Richard swears those circles are getting smaller there, to drag it out. The sensation is suddenly gone however, when Oliver begins again on the inside of his other leg.
“Tease,” Richard accuses him.
“What? We’re not in the shower without a reason,” Oliver innocently proclaims, even as he begins inching the sponge up again. Inching higher and higher until again reaching his sensitive inner thigh. Richard closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling. The soft texture of the sponge being dictated by Oliver’s movements on his thigh. It feels nice and Richard can’t help but spread his legs a little further to give Oliver more access.
He doesn’t care for more access, however, removing the sponge from between his thighs and now rubbing cheeks across Richard’s ass instead. Richard can’t help but feel a little pang at the loss of the feeling between his legs, but at least he enjoys Oliver’s movements and the texture on his cheek. Oliver’s free hand is soon against Richard’s other cheek when he apparently thinks that Richard is leaning too far back. It only increases Richard’s effort to lean further back, Oliver soon having a handful of ass cheek in his hand. Oliver changes hands, the sponge now in the hand previously holding the handful of ass and the other hand getting its turn at holding Richard’s butt. Richard closes his eyes as the sensation of Oliver’s hands gliding the sponge across his butt continues.
“Turn around,” Oliver commands. Richard obeys, doing exactly as asked. Oliver brings the sponge up to his shoulders to begin washing down from there. He glides the sponge across Richard’s pectoral muscles smoothly and in the same rhythm of the circles he’d been making all along. He pinches Richard’s nipples through the sponge when running across them, startling Richard the first time. It just increases the anticipation as he moves to the other side, however. Oliver then glides lower, washing across his stomach. Richard’s nerves eagerly follow the path down Oliver is taking, anxious for the other man to arrive at his crotch.
“I’m happy to see I’ve awoken your interest,” Oliver tells Richard as he withdraws the sponge completely. “Now rinse off.” Richard opens his mouth to protest but Oliver lays his finger across Richard’s mouth before he can do so. “Let’s continue this in a bed. Where lube won’t rinse away from the water.”
Seeing the sense in that, Richard steps fully under the streaming water. By the time he opens up his eyes and checking he’s free of any soapsuds, he glances to Oliver to see him already covered in them. Richard can’t help an amused smirk.
“In a hurry, Oli?” Richard drawls. Then again- despite not being touched himself yet, Oliver’s cock has definitely risen to attention. Deciding not to let either of their erections suffer longer than required, Richard reaches for a towel to dry himself off. The sensation of the cotton of the towel is harsher against his skin than the sponge had been but it still feels good against the sensitized parts of his body.
Richard holds onto the towel when Oliver steps out of the shower, wrapping it around Oliver’s torso and moving it side to side to towel the other man dry. Oliver lets him without protest, spreading his arms to allow the movement and turning around when his back is sufficiently dry. Richard then steps closer to wrap the towel first along his arms, rubbing them up and down, then his legs to do the same. He snakes an arm along Oliver’s hip before he puts the towel away, however, to wrap his hand around Oliver’s erection.
Oliver lets out a little surprise gasp, his fingers on Richard’s wrist. Although he doesn’t appear to know if he’s supporting it or withdrawing him just yet, his fingers just there. A slight pressure on Richard’s wrist while Oliver’s erection keeps Richard’s fingers warm.
“Bed. Quick,” Oliver determines, tugging a little on Richard’s wrist. Richard nods and releases Oliver’s cock, following him to the bassist’s bedroom. Oliver, rather than immediately joining Richard in the bed, walks towards his nightstand, opening the drawer to take out a bottle of lube and a condom.
“You can top,” Richard answers the question before it’s asked, seeing Oliver’s inquiring look. Oliver nods before joining Richard on the bed, pushing the other man on his back. Richard obliges easily, laying his head on the pillows. He hears the sound of the bottle of lube being opened and glances over to see Oliver squeezing out a good dollop onto his finger.
“Up with your legs,” Oliver commands. Richard obeys, letting Oliver climb between his legs while the hand Oliver hadn’t squeezed lube on guided Richard’s legs onto Oliver’s shoulders before cupping Richard’s ass cheek and pulling, allowing Oliver’s index finger to spread the lube along Richard’s hole.
Richard’s hands grip the sheets while preparing for Oliver’s index finger to enter him. The sight of Oliver’s face focused on what he’s doing to Richard makes his insides twist in anticipation almost as much as the feeling of Oliver’s index finger circling along the tight ring of his hole. Richard digs the heels of his feet into Oliver’s back to spur him on which in turn makes Oliver grin smugly as his eyes dart up to look into Richard’s.
“I thought I was impatient?” Oliver teases. “But alright. I’ll oblige.” The statement comes at the same time as Oliver’s finger finally pressing through the ring of muscle and inside. Richard’s breath hitches and he spurs his heels even further into Oliver’s back.
“Impatient bastard,” Oliver chuckles, even as he wiggles his index finger inside of Richard. Richard grips the sheets more tightly, enjoying their coolness against his skin. For all that they’d gotten in the shower together for being cold, he’s feeling pretty hot now.
Oliver pushes his index finger further into Richard, who welcomes it with another hitched breath. The movement back and forth that follows makes the heat in Richard’s gut increase. He gasps when he feels Oliver’s middle finger against his rim and his muscles contract when Oliver pushes them along inside on the next in-out movement.
Oliver’s fingers stay as far inside Richard as the current state of preparedness allows and Oliver’s free hand suddenly finds its way back to Richard’s inner thigh, where he draws figures into the sensitive muscles there to distract Richard while he begins to scissor his fingers inside of Richard. Richard’s eyes follow the pattern of Oliver’s fingers intently.
There appears to be a randomness to the pattern that only Oliver can follow. Making Richard’s nerves follow it, excited to see where Oliver’s finger brings them next. Although, Richard has to acknowledge, it doesn’t appear to be a full randomness. The back of his inner thighs is receiving more attention, which is undoubtedly due to Richard’s thigh quivering more in response to the movements. Richard is a little surprised when Oliver pushes a third finger inside. In his mind, the second finger had come later. Oliver gives Richard a little smile.
“Your thighs are sensitive. You were distracted enough,” Oliver explains. He continues drawing the random patterns on Richard’s thigh and Richard leans his head back rather than following them this time. The feeling of Oliver’s three fingers inside of him, spreading apart to prepare him for Oliver’s erection, and the feeling of Oliver’s index finger trailing along his thigh is making it hard for him to keep his head up as heat spreads from his gut and through the rest of his body.
“Oli, please,” Richard pleads, digging his heels merely to try and urge the other man on. Oliver doesn’t immediately comply, spreading his fingers inside Richard twice more. Finally, though, he withdraws them. The drawing on Richard’s thigh stops as well as he hears Oliver rip the packaging of the condom open.
Richard head feels heavy, but he manages to lift it regardless. He’s just in time to watch Oliver roll the condom on his cock. There’s a hitched breath coming from the tall man at even the slight touch of his own fingers against his cock, proving that Richard at least isn’t the only one in a high state of need. Oliver reaches for the bottle of lubricant, opening it and squeezing the dollop of lube directly onto his erection.
The snap of the bottle closing shut again hardly even makes Richard blink as he hungrily watches Oliver spread the lube across his cock. Oliver’s own eyes are closed and it appears he’s holding his breath as he does so. With the lubricant sufficiently covering his erection, Oliver repositions himself further up along Richard’s body, dragging Richard’s legs up with them. Oliver uses one hand to guide his cock into Richard. He pushes in and Richard’s breath hitches before he stops breathing entirely. Oliver’s cock inside of him feels full.
“Breathe, Reesh,” Oliver urges him. Richard knows he has to breathe for this to feel comfortable. It’s hardly the first time he’s been with a man. It always overwhelms him however. Fortunately Oliver is there with him, his hand tracing figures along Richard’s pectoral muscles. It does relax him enough that he can release the breath he’d been holding and Oliver squeezes Richard’s nipple gently. “Good. Now back in,” Oliver instructs, continuing the path of his finger.
Oliver keeps in place for several moments while tracing fingers along Richard’s chests. Richard can feel them increasing their pressure when he breathes in and feeling lighter when he breathes out. Finally, however, he begins to relax enough for Oliver to inch his way further in.
“Good,” Oliver praises him. “So good,” he repeats, once more pinching Richard’s nipple. Harder this time, making Richard startle and Oliver slide in the remainder of the way. He holds still when there, allowing Richard to breathe through it and try to relax.
“I’m good,” Richard nods.
“Are you sure?” Oliver asks to confirm. Richard nods again. “Good.” Oliver then moves his hips, pulling out of Richard before pushing back in. Richard’s fingers tangles themselves in the sheets, beginning to come loose just the slightest bit. It’s good, it gives Richard more sheets to grip. He feels them offering a bit of coolness between his fingers, contrasting the heat coming from Oliver. Contrasting the heat coming from himself.
“Harder,” Richard pleads. Oliver’s thrusts are too gentle. Oliver’s eyes find Richard in a silent affirmation this time before Oliver picks up the pace. Richard’s head falls back, further, the heat in his gut beginning to become overwhelming. He digs his heels into Oliver’s ass, where they’ve found themselves by now, and it spurs Oliver on further.
Oliver’s breaths are clearly coming in hitched now. His hand moves from Richard’s chest to his arm, gripping it tightly to be able to further increase the pace. Richard moans when slightly adjusted angle makes it better for him. His heels spur Oliver on even more, his breath now coming in moans as the heat in his belly builds and builds.
Richards’ muscles tighten as the heat continues to build, the feeling in his gut becoming close to overwhelming. His knuckles are white as they grip the sheets, his neck in a slight arch as he tries to maintain the current angle. He’s so close. He’s so very close. His legs are beginning to quiver, his moans are getting louder. Just a little bit more. A little bit.
The overwhelming feeling in his gut spreads throughout the rest of Richard’s body. His vision disappears while his nerves are taking over his brain. He twitches and quivers as his orgasm spreads through his body, his cock feeling blissfully on fire as it shoots his sperm up against Oliver’s belly. The waves of his orgasm wash over him, repeating the twitching and quivering of his body. Richard’s eyes close on their own accord to rely on the feeling of his nerves singing for a moment longer when the last of the waves ebbs away. His nerves sing for a moment longer before the final remnants of his orgasm disappear.
Oliver, on his part, is still deep inside of Richard. Judging by his position and face, he’d held still during Richard’s orgasm. Richard weekly digs his heels into Oliver’s ass again to indicate he should begin moving again. Oliver obeys easily, resuming his thrusting. It allows Richard to watch him and follow his movements more closely than he had chasing his own orgasm. He adjusts the angle of his hips until Oliver’s hitches turn into moans.
Oliver’s pace increases while his thrusts become more shallow, pulling out less and less every time. He’s moaning practically continuously now, his eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open to produce the sounds as his back arches further, seeking to increase the blissful friction. Richard arches his own back a little further to try and help. Oliver thrusts in a handful more times before his face twists in pleasure, his movement hitches until it stills entirely and Richard can feel Oliver’s cock twitching inside of him. Richard holds still while Oliver begins to gently move after a moment, riding his orgasm out.
Oliver’s eyes open again, lazily and it appears it takes a bit of effort on his part not to collapse right on top of Richard. Instead he manages to push one hand off so he falls on his back on one side of Richard. He’s silent for a few moments, his breaths coming in fast after the exertion.
“See. We don't have to go back into the cold,” Oliver determines happily.