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Joe forces himself to open his eyes, resting his forehead against Nicky's shoulder and watching the way his chest moves as he arches his back, cursing as he slides all the way down. He tilts his head up when Nicky leans in for a kiss, one hand slipping through his hair, holding on tight, while the other stays on Nicky's hip.

"Yeah?" Joe challenges, grinning into the kiss. "I'd like that." He rocks his hips, carefully despite his need. He doesn't have much leverage like this but the movement does make his cock press in just a little deeper, drawing a ragged groan.

Nicky doesn't move for a moment, mostly because he doesn't trust himself. If he moves, he might come. He knows that's what they're building to, but he also wants to have some dignity and some restraint, and right now, he thinks if he moves just a little even, he's in a lot of trouble.

He makes a whimpering little sound when Joe says he'd like that, because, "That's not fair," he protests, his accent thicker than before.

Nicky closes his eyes, groaning loudly as he drags his nails down Joe's shoulder, gripping him tight. "Tell me," he pleads, "when you're close." Nicky doesn't think he can hold on that long, but he can damn well try.

"How is that unfair, tesoro?" Joe teases in return, noting how Nicky's Italian accent is coming back in full force. He loves it.

He can't quite stop himself from grinding up into Nicky, his hips flexing restlessly, seeking friction even if he doesn't want to overwhelm Nicky.

"I'm..." Joe says, closing his eyes and swallowing dryly. "Probably not going to last very long," he admits, nipping on Nicky's shoulder. "Move with me?" he requests, putting both hands on Nicky's waist to help him lift up a little, and then sink back down.

Nicky twists his lips up in displeasure, because it is very unfair that Joe used that beautiful mouth of his to push him to the edge, and now he's saying that it's fine to make a mess of him. Before tonight, Nicky hadn't thought the perfect man could exist.

Here's Joe, proving him wrong.

True, he bickers and is stubborn and yes, a little narcissistic, but Nicky is blinded at the moment with very good sex. "Cazzo," he hisses, groaning as he starts to move, reaching down to get a hand on his cock, shifting to squeeze gently, trying to help himself hold off.

The twist of Nicky's lips makes Joe smile and he leans in to kiss it better, slow but deep. He keeps shivering, the heat of Nicky's body around him making him itch to move, to push up and up and up and get impossibly closer to him.

He moans when Nicky finally starts to move, pleasure sparking immediately at the friction between them, Joe's hips jerking up in return. It will take Joe a few seconds to learn Nicky's rhythm, distracted as he is by the cursing and the way Nicky is gripping his own cock to keep from coming too soon, but he will.

From there they can just fall into it, Joe holding Nicky at the hips to help him rock, his own hips rolling up each time he comes down, gasping at the feeling. "Nicky," he whispers, sounding ragged. "Nicky, you feel so good."

Nicky doesn't feel like he is moving. He feels almost as if he's stuck in place, completely trapped in a forcefield that Joe's managed to get him in. Every movement, everything he does, it's small and deliberate, a pointed choice with every squeeze and shift around Joe.

His hand isn't working that quickly either, but that's for his own survival. If he touches himself too much, he will come, and it will be over. He doesn't want that, not yet. "You feel better," is his stubborn argument, even now.

"I don't know if that's possible, hayati," Joe whispers against Nicky's lip, nipping on it gently. He's grinning, amused that they found something to argue about even now. He wants to tell Nicky to go harder if he likes, to go faster, but he feels close already and he wants to draw this out, to take his time to enjoy this moment.

He can't resist putting his hand over Nicky's on his cock still, his fingers brushing against the tip. "How close are you?" he asks, jerking his hips up harder, shivering at the sensation.

Nicky makes a displeased little grunt of a noise, which is his counter to Joe's argument, because it is possible. It's very possible. He can't prove it, but Joe is going to have to trust him, because it's just true.

Still, the words don't come, because he's very fucking close when Joe asks him that, his moan this time more desperation and a whine, breathing out shakily at Joe's hand on his cock. "Joe," he gets out, guttural. "Barely holding on," he confesses, and it's to everything. To his thoughts, his words, his orgasm, he's barely in control.

Joe answers that displeased grunt with a non-committal hum: he doesn't really want to argue with Nicky right now, but he doesn't want to concede, either.

He groans along, feeling the way Nicky is clenching around him as his fingers squeeze his cock gently. "Go on, then," he coaxes, gripping Nicky's hip with his free hand to encourage him to move, up into Joe's stroking hand and down onto his cock. "Let me see you let go."

There's only one thing left. If he wants to do this properly, then he needs his lips on Joe's, grabbing at his neck and straining to kiss him as he lifts himself up so sink down on his cock, giving himself one last stroke with Joe's assisting hand, and then...

Well, he did say he'd make a mess of Joe, didn't he? He never mentioned the part where he'd make a mess of himself too, but that means there's a very good shower in it for him soon.

"Joe," he moans into the kiss, now that he's come, and he'll argue again that this is bliss, right here, in this moment.

Joe kisses him back, rocking his hips up faster and harder now, chasing his own pleasure. He forces himself to lean back a little when he feels Nicky come, meaning to watch him. He's lovely, his face flushing and his lips parting over soft moans. Joe strokes him through it, groaning at the mess Nicky makes of both their chests. Nicky is going tighter and tighter around him, and Joe can't help but snap his hips up roughly, pleasure shooting down his spine.

By the time Nicky is done Joe is so close he can taste it, his whole body going tense with the pent-up need to come. "Can I..." he pants against Nicky's lips, holding him tight. "Can I keep going, I'm so close, Nicky," he whispers, his eyes squeezed shut.

Nicky grapples with his balance, smearing a hand on his sheets (he'll clean them later) so he can cup Joe's face with both hands, a possessive grasp to hold onto him, and to keep moving on him, despite the fact that he's already come.

It doesn't matter unless Joe has, too, and that's why he still rides him, slower than before given how sensitive he is, but no less enthusiastic. "I want you to come," Nicky murmurs the words. "I want you to come in me," he clarifies, nipping Joe's earlobe gently.

That's all it takes, Joe hissing as he snaps his hips up a few more times into the welcoming heat of Nicky's body, pressing his face against Nicky's neck. He comes with a choked groan, his hands tight on Nicky's hips, and pushes himself as far as he can inside Nicky, pleasure hitting him like a punch.

It takes Joe several seconds to recover from it, heat coming from him in waves, his breathing ragged. Then he carefully lets go of Nicky's hips to wrap his arms around his back instead, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to his jaw, smiling.

Nicky doesn't want to move now that he's found paradise. He breathes out shakily and lets Joe hold him, soaking up the kisses like the beautiful things they are. He's still in awe that this happened, that he and Joe met, that they had such an electric first date and now ... well, this.

"Your ego is already a ballooning thing," Nicky mumbles, "but I can't let this moment pass without admitting that was the best sex I've ever had."

Luckily for Nicky, Joe is really in the mood to give him soft kisses right now, and stroke his hands across his back gently. He lifts his head from the crook of Nicky's shoulder when he speaks up, slowly grinning at the words. It's... very flattering to hear that from Nicky, and Joe feels himself flush with pleasure again. He agrees that what just happened was incredibly intense, both physically and emotionally, and he will need some time to think about it.

Meanwhile, he just gives Nicky a mischievous grin. "Yeah, it was okay," he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners in sheer amusement.

If the positions were reversed, Joe would be on the floor after a comment like that. The cross and petulant glare is a familiar expression for Joe, because it's very much one of the ones he wore the first night of the exhibition, in the middle of one or two sneering argument points.

"Okay," he echoes Joe's words and tone, scoffing. He knows it's a joke, yet he climbs off Joe and bears in until his lips are hovering oh-so-close to Joe's, but, "I wouldn't want to give you just an okay kiss," he laments, "after such okay sex."

Yes, he is being a dramatic asshole. Yes, Joe should get used to it.

"I will go and fetch some okay towels to clean you up, in an okay fashion."

Joe has to laugh at the look Nicky gives him, a mix of fond annoyance and disgust at the joke he just made. It is very reminiscent of the way Nicky looked at his art the first time they met, and Joe finds himself oddly endeared by it.

Nicky's response is so dramatic Joe can't help but grin in return, thoroughly enjoying Nicky's mock-outrage. "I was joking, habibi," he hastens to say, pretending he is buying into Nicky's play at disappointment. "Tesoro," he adds, clearly sweet-talking now, making a show of taking Nicky's hands in his and kissing his fingers. "Ya Amar. Forgive me."

He pulls Nicky in again, gentle but insistent. "Please," he says, more softly, putting his arms around Nicky's shoulders to keep him close. "It was incredible. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Perhaps ever." His eyes are dark and bright, and his tone is earnest.

Nicky really is trying to keep up his outrage, but with every additional treasure of a sweet endearment, he folds a little more, until Joe has him absolutely melting towards him, leaning in for the kiss he so completely deserves for those kind words.

"Forgiven," he assures, between kisses, but he is trying to squirm away, not for okay cleaning, but because he does want to towel Joe off before bed. "Wait here," he murmurs, kissing Joe's neck, before murmuring, "Il mio principe," in a rough, low voice.

He returns swiftly with a warm wash cloth, taking the time to clean Joe off, and himself, even if there's nothing to do about his sheets right now. It's good enough, and he settles back into Joe's arms within minutes. "No ex-boyfriends giving you sex that okay?" And it's not let go, not fully.

It's very nice to see Nicky melt in his hands and Joe tilts his chin up for the kiss, closing his eyes a little at how good it is, even now that they are both spent. "I'll wait," he agrees, cupping Nicky's face with both his hands tenderly. The Italian pet name makes him smile, and he likes the way it sounds in Nicky's low voice, his accent curling around the soft syllables.

"Grazie" he whispers, letting Nicky wipe his chest down and settling into bed. The sheets are damp on one side but they can curl together on the other, Joe happy to pull Nicky close and wrap his arms around him.

He grins at the question, kissing along Nicky's jaw. "Nicolo, I can say with absolute certainty that this was the okayest sex I've ever had," he teases in return, snorting.

Nicky wraps his arms around Joe, but that doesn't feel right. He shifts a little, lets Joe pull him close, and then wriggles back into his arms to get comfortable, sighing with delight when he feels the steady security of Joe's arms around him.

He's delighted to hear such okay praise, smugly grinning as he pulls a pillow towards his head. "You already know that you're better than my ex-boyfriends," he praises, such as they were. Nicky hasn't had many of them.

Strangely, not many people get past the prickly exterior. Odd, isn't it?

"Well, if it was okay, then you won't be upset if I use it as inspiration for my book?"

Humming, Joe lets Nicky shift and wriggle until he's comfortable, wrapping both arms around him securely. He likes to hold his lovers as he sleeps, and he's happy to see that Nicky seems to enjoy being held. Not everyone does.

"Too late for them," Joe teases, kissing Nicky's shoulder. "They had their shot, they missed." And now Joe is the one in Nicky's arms, and he doesn't intend on letting go anytime soon.

Joe chuckles at the idea, nuzzling against Nicky's warm skin. "As long as your green-eyed heroine has a great time, be my guest," he allows, amused. "I look forward to reading it." He means that, too. Nicky is good at writing sex scenes, even if heterosexual romance doesn't do much for Joe. He grins. "I'm happy to play out any wild fantasies you want to include in the book, for the record. For research purposes, of course."

It's strange for Nicky to feel so comfortable with someone, but when Joe wraps him up, there's no fear or stress or doubt. This is the only place he's meant to be. His eyes fall shut, but his lips curve upwards with delight to think about anyone who missed their shot.

"What I don't understand," he admits, "is how you were still single," he confesses. "I can be a bit much, but you, Joe. You already practically are a hero in a romance novel. You are smart and handsome and funny and your body is made for impure thoughts." He groans as he settles back into his arms. "And speaking of those fantasies and sins, you can deliver a list to me of all the things you think my protagonist should do with his green-eyed heroine. I will take it under advisement."

"Nicky, you can't just ask a guy what's wrong with him on a second date," Joe complains, though he is very flattered by the way Nicky chose to ask. He stays silent for a few seconds, sounding thoughtful when he replies. "I can be a bit much too, you know. I get very intense about things. I can spend hours painting, and forget about everything else."

He hums, grinning as he considers the request. "Do you want me to write you a list of what I think your heroine could do with her dashing artist?" he prods, amused. "Or do you want a list of everything I'd like to do with you?" He nudges Nicky playfully. "I can do both, but they are different lists, I think."

Nicky shouldn't, but he thinks it's a necessary question because Joe really does seem too good to be true, so how could it be that he's single? Even when he gives Nicky a reason, it doesn't sound accurate, because what's so bad about being intense and having a hobby?

People are idiots, or Joe isn't telling him something, he thinks.

"I would like a list of what you think the heroine should do with her dashing artist," he says calmly. "And then I will enjoy getting to think about ways to adapt it so I can do that with my dashing one," he teases, eyes sparkling as he looks back at Joe, a sleepy smile on his lips.

Joe isn't hiding anything: he has flaws, and Nicky has already seen most of them. Perhaps it is simply that he wasn't meant to meet to right person until now.

He shifts when Nicky turns around to look at him, leaning up so he can give him one last soft kiss. "I see. This way my imagination benefits both your art and your personal life," Joe teases, sounding amused. He's nodding, still. Nicky wants a list of the many ways Joe is willing to romance him, he can have it. "Are you as good at making breakfast as you are at making dinner?" he inquires, nuzzling back against the nape of Nicky's neck, closing his eyes.