Impractical Jokers: [Joker]x[Joker] Collection

All in the Hips. (Joe/Sal)

 "Ahhhh..." Sal exhales as he comes down from his high, body falling flush against the tousled bedsheets as a hand works through his messy hair. Eyes flicker as they get used to taking in his actual surroundings once more, adjusted to the stars Joe had made him see as he'd taken his length into his mouth and made quick work of his inhibitions.

It has been a day of sex, putting it lightly. They'd both woken up in a tangle of somewhat sweaty, heated limbs and been unable to resist the morning rhythm. Getting up, showering, brushing teeth, eating– it had all been done but to what avail? Because the second Joe put down his plate in the sink and Sal had taken to pressing a tender trail of kisses down the back of his neck the day had been signed off to intimacy from the get-go. Back to bed they'd stumbled, both victims of disarray as they'd kissed heatedly and Joe had kicked the door closed behind them. Since then, they'd been a storm: not always strong but always present. They'd exchanged favours; made love so tender it had brought tears to Vulcano's eyes before fucking so desperately it had had them both lost for breath. In between, they would nap; break away from one another's lips for long enough to whisper their desire in more plaintive terms before going again. Now, as Sal lays in the aftermath of his lover's talented lips, he feels so content he could sleep for years.

Joe's head rests just above his left pelvic bone, the plush flesh of his lover's belly providing his face with just enough cushion to be considered comfortable. "Ya feel good...?"

"Yeah..." Is all Sal says, still working on regulating his breathing as his high euphoria diminishes into a more tolerable pleasure; a low hum of contentment that has buried itself deep within his veins, made itself home in his very core. "So good, Joey... ya know how to treat me..."

Gatto isn't hard to please, but based on his soft chuckle Sal hazards a guess that he is particularly swept by the implication that he knows what he's doing. Lips suddenly begin to flit down the strained V leading to the centre of his groin, slow and deliberate, and it has the weakened Joker aflame with a brand new spark of need.

"God, Joe... don't you ever get bored of driving me crazy?" Sal mutters between his teeth, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as he lets himself feel that satisfying warmth course around his body like liquid fire. Joe's lips have diverted from the inside of his groin to the outside of his rear, kisses trailing down his hips. The one thing that doesn't falter? Those beautiful blue eyes as they stare up at him, regardless as to whether Vulcano is looking at him or not. He's trained on him, his face, that beautiful expression, body a slave to the desire that the other instils in it.

"God no," Gatto mutters in reply, lifting his head and repeating the motions down the curve of his other hip, hands splayed and running upwards along his stomach. Sal flushes at the intimacy, forces himself to look down and take in the intoxicating view. Joe down under always has him heating up, like water left to simmer in a kettle. "I love it when ya want me. When ya need me..."

"I'm always gonna need you," Sal breathes, gaining a grip in Joe's hair and gently guiding him up to kiss him square on the mouth. He tastes of fulfilment. Against his lips he continues, voice like gravel; his only communication today, save for a few choice words, has been in the form of needy grunts. "And I'm always gonna want you."

Joe feels his heart swell in his chest as he kisses Sal more deeply, more meaningfully, hands tangling uselessly in his thick hair and watching it curl as he grips it tightly enough to pull at it. Vulcano moans enticingly against his lips.

"Mmm, yeah... you know what that does to me, baby..." he whispers, hands raising and smoothing down his sides. Joe simply grins.

"Damn right. And I love doin' it to ya."