Picture You

The linen sheets that Builderman was in charge of cleaning cradled the two; intertwined in a cuddle of knots, facing the other head-on. Builderman sighed as he heard the sound of his zipper unzipping. His jacket went slack around his shoulders as Shedletsky's fingers graced his collarbones— Builderman shimmied to help him, and one side of his jacket fell onto the bed behind him. As Shedletsky used the muscles he'd built from years of swordfighting just to move the mass of Builderman's body against his own, Builderman tried to ease his other sleeve off. Keyword: tried.

"Hey—" Shedletsky moved his hand up to stop Builderman. "Stop that—"

"Stop what? You want me with my clothes on or without?" Builderman bit as their legs intertwined. "Don't make a fuss now." His arms tried pulling Shedletsky closer by the waist, but Shedletsky shimmied out of it and shoved Builderman's clothed arm away from him. How rude.

"Let me take your clothes off—" Shedletsky whined as he pulled on the sleeve of Builderman's jacket.

"John—" he mumbled, feeling Shedletsky's lips kiss gently along his neck, his face slotting into the crook of his shoulder and throat. He swallowed as he felt Shedletsky's teeth nip in warning of his complaints, knowing that if he threw a fit over his behavior, Shedletsky would resort to biting him. "Heights, I know you were talkin' about 'takin' care 'a me,' or whatever, but—" As soon as he knew it, his other sleeve had come off, and his arms were exposed to the warm air of their room. Shedletsky kissed along the seams of the grease-stained tank-top that sat beneath his jacket. "Don't be ridiculous—" The bed creaked as Builderman inched closer to Shedletsky, unable to resist the temptation of warmth against the chill of the room.

"I'm not being ridiculous." Shedletsky complained. "You're being ridiculous."

"Me? No. I'm the only reasonable one here. Yer the one who's goin' around, insistin' I need someone to take off my damn jacket for me—"

"Oh, come on." Shedletsky pulled back, staring Builderman right in the eyes. His face was flushed all different shades of red, staring with those thick brows furrowed as he shot Builderman a smile. There were many things that Builderman adored about Shedletsky— one of them was his smile. In the corner of his mouth, there was a scar from where Builderman had nicked him in a duel. Builderman had a matching one on the opposite corner of his own lip. "You're acting like I've never done nice things for you."

Builderman had spent far too long looking at Shedletsky's lips for it to be normal. "Like what?" He looked back up at his eyes— those beautiful eyes of his, filled with so much light and warmth. Those eyes that were reserved for Builderman only. He prized those eyes of his, and Shedletsky knew he could get anything he wanted with them. “Name one nice thing you’ve done for me.” They could wring anything out of the other, knew each other's cheat codes like the back of their hands. It made Shedletsky's next sentence downright nefarious.

"Well, I held the door for you when we walked in here."

Shedletsky shot him a grin as Builderman's face deadpanned. Then, Builderman placed two hands on each of Shedletsky's shoulders and shoved him across the wide, unexplored expanse of bedsheets.

"Hey!—" Shedletsky shouted in protest.

"Nope. Not hearin' it." Builderman sighed, crossing his arms.

Shedletsky scrambled to get back to Builderman from across the bed— "Hey, Builder—" He snickered from between his desperate pleads for attention. Builderman found it much too cute how he couldn't keep a straight enough face to plead for his attention. "Builder, c'mon, honey, you know I was kidding—"

"Mhm." Builderman finally made eye contact with Shedletsky again as he tried to pry Builderman's arms open.

"God, you're strong—" Shedletsky snickered some more as he clawed at his forearms. "C'mon—" Then, he got a bright idea. Builderman could see it; he'd memorized the look by now, he'd spent a thousand years loving it. He'd spent a thousand years watching that look shape the universe. Builderman had spent a thousand years making sure that look never left Shedletsky's face. Now, he wished desperately to know what was behind those eyes— and what dastardly plan Shedletsky had in mind.

He got an idea when Shedletsky pressed the first kiss to his face.

"Oh, Builderman—" Shedletsky snickered as he pecked Builderman again, right at the corner of his lips. "How many kisses will make a lifetime of misdeeds up to you?"

Builderman rolled his eyes, but a small smile was beginning to crawl upon his face. Shedletsky's eyes shone with victory and triumph— now, Builderman was being positively peppered with kisses by those scarred, soft lips. He wasn't sure how those two conditions could coexist, but Shedletsky managed to make it work, and Builderman had an infinite amount of faith in him.

"There we go. There's that smile I love." Shedletsky mumbled against his cheek, feeling Builderman's cheek curve with a grin. "There's the man I love..." He peppered more kisses against Builderman's cheek— leaving no scar or tear neglected.

"Oh, stop it..." Builderman grumbled, but Shedletsky knew it wasn't a serious warning.

One thing he adored about Shedletsky was his comical sense of relentless, ruthlessness, and ambition he seemed to wear like a charm: here, now, Shedletsky seemed to have acquired a drive to kiss each little mark on Builderman's face. His lips moved from his cheek to his eyebrows, kissing that spot between them that'd wrinkle up whenever he was working on a particularly difficult project or trying to figure something out. Shedletsky pressed his lips against Builderman's temple as well, leaving a soft, pillowy kiss where the sharpness of Builderman's mind concentrated itself in multiple headaches. Soon enough, Shedletsky's kisses had eroded Builderman's hold on his arms, and the two were back to cuddling against each other for warmth. Shedletsky was making him soft, but it wasn't something he wanted to stop— no. He basked in the feeling of Shedletsky's undivided attention like a cat would to a sunbeam; lazy, with no particular direction or sense of purpose. Usually, Builderman would chastise himself for lounging about, but Shedletsky seemed to breathe purpose into him, and that purpose was to be loved. Builderman was perfectly okay with that.

When Shedletsky pulled away to talk again, Builderman snuck a hand up to his shoulder and pulled him downwards for a good, long kiss. One that clearly caught Shedletsky off guard, as he yelped once their teeth clacked together. Finally, they were complete. No more bickering. Builderman breathed a sigh of relief out from his nose as Shedletsky finally shut up. Their legs found each other once more, and they became intertwined once more. That was how it should've been from the start, but he could never really be angry at Shedletsky for disturbing them. He couldn't muster up a single bone in his body to hate him or treat him with any ounce of disrespect: as long as moments like these existed, where their bodies became entangled in each other, where the curves and puzzle pieces of each of their limbs slotted perfectly into one another... he couldn't muster up any ounce of hatred for him.

Builderman's hand crept downwards from Shedletsky's shoulder, down to his waist, pulling him closer as he smiled into their kiss. Builderman's arms wrapped around his waist, and Shedletsky raised his hands in response to hold Builderman's face in his hands. Builderman could make out each of the callouses that wedged themselves between each of Shedletsky's joints as a result of his long years of swordfighting— each year that tacked itself onto his fingers oozed with love for Builderman only as he cradled his jawbones. His left thumb whispered praises and odes of devotion to the apple of Builderman's cheek— his right index mumbled soft compliments into the hard, supple meat of Builderman's jaw. No spot of his face went unloved by Shedletsky, not even by his breath.

"Aren't you beautiful—" Builderman mumbled into Shedletsky's mouth. "Just the prettiest thing I've ever seen..." He opened his eyes, looking up to Shedletsky. It was true; Shedletsky was downright beautiful. Each curve of the bones, muscles, and fat that made up his face shaped themselves into extraordinary beauty; each freckle that dotted his skin echoed the constellations above the roof of the manor, signaling Shedletsky's beauty as a divine gift. Though divinity was something they both hid, it didn't mean Builderman didn't see it any less in Shedletsky.

"Says you." Shedletsky chuckled against his lips.

Builderman's left hand crept beneath Shedletsky's shirt, sprawling across the small of his back as he searched for warmth. He pulled Shedletsky infinitesimally closer, searching to make them whole— they breathed in union and in holy matrimony, and he swore that rings of gold couldn't bind them as much as the swapping of air could now. If Builderman had the choice, he could've spent years staring into Shedletsky's eyes. He could've spent years crawling on his hands and knees through glass for one chance at dropping to his feet and kissing the ground he walked on. He could imagine the painstaking labor and toil of building a temple in Shedletsky's good name, and he would've bore it just to earn a glance his way. But this moment between them made Builderman's heart leap, because he didn't have to do any of those things to be loved in return. He didn't have to crawl to him, nor pray or beg for his attention. He merely had to lay down against the sheets they slept on together (the ones that Builderman cleaned) and let Shedletsky kiss the living soul out of him.

"Like this—" Shedletsky pulled away, much to Builderman's visible dismay— "What's that face for?"

"What face?" Builderman had to think consciously about his facial muscles, only to realize he looked quite disappointed. "Oh— sorry, y'know— can't... uh..."

Shedletsky smiled— not a smile of pity, but a smile of forgiveness and mercy. Every wound Builderman had ever suffered melted beneath that warm gaze. He seemed to be washed clean, cell by cell, until nothing was left in his body but the purity of their love. Every inch of dirt was wiped away with one sweep of Shedletsky's eyes across his skin. "It's alright. I know." He raised one brow in a triumphant look. "You miss me, don't you?"

He was right. Shedletsky was close, but he couldn't have possibly been any further. Any studs between them were agonizing. "I do." Builderman smiled softly at him. "I love you."

"I love you too." Shedletsky rubbed the scruff on Builderman's jaw. "Didn't realize this was here."

"Yeah—" Builderman swallowed— "yeah, haven't, uh... finished that razor 'a mine. Sorry." Truthfully, other miscellaneous duties around the manor had been distracting him, so he was almost hoping Shedletsky wouldn't point it out. It's not like he needed to be his most perfect self in front of Shedletsky, but he still wanted to be seen in a somewhat positive light. Years worth of Shedletsky's mercy had taught him self-forgiveness, but he still felt it creep up in his stomach whenever Shedletsky looked at him in any particular way. He could feel himself shrinking away, looking bashful beneath Shedletsky's eyes.

"No, I—" Shedletsky grinned— "I think it's cute. It looks good on you. It's hot."

"Hot?" Builderman looked back to him with a red blush sprawling across his face. Though they'd been together for god knows how long, Shedletsky's words of affection still got to him like he was in his noob days. "Heights, John. We're gettin' old, I'm pretty sure I ain't qualifyin' as 'hot' anymore."

"I disagree. I think you're like a fine wine." Shedletsky pulled him in for another kiss. "You get better as you age. You definitely do." Shedletsky's knee shifted against his inner thigh as he bore himself onto Builderman, and Builderman controlled his desperate desire for Shedletsky's undivided, full attention. Already, his mind was racing with the words Shedletsky had said— he didn't need anything else getting him into trouble.

He did think Shedletsky was right, though. They'd grown together, clearly. He was one of the lucky ones who'd fallen in love with his best friend, and his best friend fell in love with him too. There was always some new joke or shindig to discuss, and they could always mull over old situations or joke about things they'd witnessed together. Shedletsky had wormed his way into Builderman's life, just like he'd wormed himself back into Builderman's arms— and he never wanted to be separated from him ever again.

"I love you, Builder." Shedletsky mumbled, placing a hand on the back of Builderman's head and gently rubbing circles into his scalp. Of course he'd know the cheats after being in love with him so long— Builderman became pliant... willing to his touch, soft beneath his fingertips. Shedletsky was the only one who could ever see him like this, and he knew that his own hands against Shedletsky's back eased him, too. He massaged some of the knots in Shedletsky's lower back with the meat of his middle knuckle.

It took him a while to be able to form the words, but once he did, they smiled into each other's faces, becoming one grin and one beating heart— "I love you too, John."