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“You’ve never—?”
“No, Dakota.”
“Not even once?”
“ No , Dakota.”
“What about like, just a regular kiss?”
“I thought we were referring to regular kisses.” Cavendish isn’t looking at him, fiddling with the time machine’s controls as Vinnie lowers his hamburger with shock.
“Not even a little peck or anything? Relatives don’t count,” Vinnie says, holding up a clarifying finger when Cavendish opens his mouth. Cavendish makes a disgruntled noise and sighs as the time machine finally, grudgingly, moves out of time-space and into the time stream.
“I exchanged a few kisses while I was in school,” Cavendish says after a minute, looking a little musing. “Nothing…terribly intimate.”
“Well I was gonna ask if you were giving out blowies before you’d had a proper kiss, but you beat me to the punch there,” Vinnie says, shoving a bite of burger into his mouth as Cavendish makes a sound like he’s having an apoplexy in the seat beside him. A quick glance confirms that he is not, he’s just scandalized, and Vinnie’s attention turns back to his food and the conversation.
“So by nothing intimate, you mean like, what, on the forehead?” Vinnie asks, brushing crumbs from his front to the floor as Cavendish sighs, guiding the time machine to their tiny office in the 21st century.
“On the cheek,” Cavendish mumbles reluctantly, and hunches his shoulders like he expects Vinnie to laugh at him. And Vinnie wants to, but he quickly swallows the urge and instead claps Cavendish on the back in what he hopes is a reassuring way.
“Ah, don’t worry about it man, I’m sure you’re not the first person to make it to, uh…how old are you again?” Vinnie asks, and Cavendish gives him a nearly poisonous glare as the time machine pops back into existence. He doesn’t answer and Vinnie doesn’t really blame him. Time travel messes with your concept of time pretty hard, so age and birthdays tend to get a bit blurry after a while.
“Thank you for being so delicate with this shortcoming in my personal development,” Cavendish says snippily as he climbs out of the car, and Vinnie scrambles to follow him.
“Hey, hey, no, don’t be mad!” Vinnie pleads, following Cavendish up the stairs to the second floor. Cavendish’s legs are longer by what feels like ten miles, and he’s already at the door to unlock it by the time Vinnie crests the stairs.
“I’m not mad,” Cavendish says, and he’s definitely mad, and Vinnie groans. He manages to get to the door before it shuts behind Cavendish and he’s breathing a little heavy when he steps into their office.
Cavendish sits at his desk and pointedly buries himself in paperwork as Vinnie gets his breath back from scaling the stairs and half-running along the balcony to their office.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Vinnie says with a sigh of lungs catching up with the sudden exertion.
“I’m not upset,” Cavendish says without looking at him, pretending to read the papers in his hands. His eyes aren’t moving, just glaring at the paper so hard Vinnie fears it’ll burst into flames.
“Can I ask…” Vinnie pauses, not wanting to pry further and make Cavendish angrier.
“What?” Cavendish asks, sighing in defeat. “ Why haven’t I kissed anyone yet? It’s not like I haven’t tried , Dakota, I’ve had…feelings for people before. Wanted to be closer. It just…never worked out.” His mustache bristles a little as his lower lip firms into a pout, and Vinnie wonders how anyone’s ever been offered the chance to kiss that mouth and not taken it.
“You could, uh. I mean, it’s not too late? You could just…share a kiss with someone, and, and that could be it,” Dakota suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. Cavendish snorts in disbelief.
“Yes, Dakota, I’ll just ask the nearest person,” he says, and Vinnie’s heart ticks up into another gear.
“You could,” he says, mouth dry. “Wouldn’t say no.” Cavendish blinks and turns to frown at him, mouth falling open but not saying anything for a second, like he’s trying to understand. His eyebrows shoot up after a second with shock, cheeks flooding with color.
“I am not paying that woman outside to kiss me, Dakota,” he says, looking affronted, and when Dakota just gives him a blank look his expression folds once more into timid confusion. “You know. On the corner. The, er, what was the word for it? The crass one. Hooker?”
“Is that what she is?” Dakota blinks, distracted momentarily. “No, wait, no, Cav, I wasn’t. I wasn’t suggesting you—me, I meant. I meant you could kiss me .”
Cavendish floods with a blush so strong his ears turn red, a much more visceral reaction.
“Ha, ha ,” he says, and it’s stiff, so obviously a facade his voice cracks halfway through the second fake ha, and Vinnie tries not to wilt too visibly. “I wouldn’t force you through such a trial , Dakota.”
“It’d be no problem,” Vinnie says, hoping he doesn’t appear too desperate. If Cavendish doesn’t want to kiss him that’s all fine and good, but if he does…Vinnie’s not going to let the chance pass him by. Just thinking about Cavendish a little flustered, a little desperate, pink and ruffled…Vinnie swallows weakly.
Cavendish fidgets with his papers a bit, like he’s thinking it over, and Vinnie tries to get his heart to beat just a little quieter so he’ll be able to hear when Cavendish speaks again. “So, erm. You’d…really do that?”
“Kiss you? Fuck yeah,” Vinnie says, mouth quirking when Cavendish twitches at the swear. “S’long as you’re okay with it too.” Cavendish blushes and fidgets, ducking his head as Vinnie leans against his desk and tries not to break into celebration too early.
“But I’m…and you’re so,” Cavendish makes a vague gesture at each of them, and Vinnie shrugs.
“If you’re not into guys, I get it—” he begins, but Cavendish shakes his head to quickly cut him off.
“No, no, men are…fine,” he coughs delicately and Vinnie is trying to memorize all the different shades of delicate pink Cavendish keeps turning across those high cheekbones. “I just meant you’re so…” He waves vaguely at Vinnie again.
“Look if you haven’t caught on yet that I like dudes we need to get you new glasses—”
“No! You’re just—you’re out of my league!” Cavendish finally spits, throwing up his hands and then crossing his arms over his chest in frustration. “I can’t imagine you’d be doing it out of more than pity.” Vinnie blinked, wondering what universe Cavendish was living in where the man wearing the tracksuit was more attractive than the one wearing a three-piece, tailored suit.
“Cav, if I pitied you, I’d have just hired the hooker and let you get rid of all your firsts with a professional,” Vinnie says, and Cavendish puts his head in his hands.
“That’s a rude assumption,” he mutters.
“If you haven’t kissed, there’s no way you’ve done anything else,” Vinnie says confidently, flicking a pen so it rolls and bounces across the desk to land in Cavendish’s lap. “You’re you.”
Cavendish huffs, and glances nervously up at him from between his fingers. “So are you going to, er, just?” He lowers his hands and they’re trembling a little, and Vinnie can see the tension and nervousness in every line of Cavendish’s body language.
“Yeah, if you want,” Vinnie says, adjusting where he was leaning against the desk a little so he’s facing Cavendish with his whole body. Cavendish nods weakly, a little jerking motion. Vinnie wonders if Cavendish is really okay with this, and watches him tense up when Vinnie reaches out to relieve him of his top hat.
“Nervous?” Vinnie asks as he sets Cavendish’s hat aside, smirking.
“No,” Cavendish snaps, leaning back in his chair and adjusting his glasses.
“Oh, well, maybe you better lead, then,” Vinnie says, holding his hands up as Cavendish freezes. He turns nearly purple before Vinnie lets him off the hook. “It’s okay to be nervous.” Cavendish starts to breathe again and the purple fades to just a warm blush.
“I’m not nervous,” Cavendish says primly, shifting around in his chair a little as Vinnie steps closer, slides around the corner to park his butt on the front edge of Cavendish’s desk. He slides one leg past Cavendish’s lap so he’s blocking Cavendish from accessing anything on his desk and is instead sitting between Vinnie’s spread knees. Cavendish blushes and fidgets and folds his hands together in his lap, glaring down at them like they’ve offended him in their inability to settle.
“Relax,” Vinnie says, reaching out to brush his fingers against Cavendish’s cheek, drawing his attention before Vinnie places his fingers behind the hook of Cav’s jaw to make him look up.
“I am relaxed,” Cavendish mutters, letting out a tense breath.
“You don’t look relaxed,” Vinnie points out, letting his touch linger, feeling along the column of Cavendish’s throat to his collar. A little shiver goes through Cavendish at the touch, and Vinnie tries not to look too pleased at garnering such a reaction with so little contact. Cavendish clears his throat nervously as Vinnie slides a finger into the knot of his tie to tug it looser.
“You’re really taking your time about this, Dakota,” Cavendish says, looking anywhere but at him.
“I could go faster,” Vinnie suggests, leaning forward to cup his hand around the back of Cavendish’s neck and bring him so close Cav’s eyes are getting a little crossed trying to look at him.
“Erm,” is all Cavendish has to say in response, so Vinnie just leans back and pulls Cavendish with him.
“What—?” Cavendish sputters as Vinnie pulls him until he has to stand up or fall face-first into Vinnie’s chest. He chooses to stand up, and Vinnie puts a hand on Cavendish’s ribs to draw him closer, until he’s leaning into Vinnie, who’s half-sitting on the desk.
“I, uhm, this is—” Cavendish sputters, but he trails off with a whimper when Vinnie uses the hand on the back of his neck to pull him down and impossibly closer.
Vinnie brushes his mouth up the length of Cavendish’s throat, turning his head back and forth to just barely brush his mouth and the tip of his nose along Cavendish’s skin, slow and soft. Cavendish slowly begins to relax, planting one hand on the desk by Vinnie’s hip to steady himself as he leans his head to the side, granting Vinnie more access. Cavendish groans softly when Vinnie cups his jaw to hold his head in place, holding Cavendish against his front with his other hand. Vinnie presses a kiss, an actual kiss, to the soft skin under Cavendish’s ear, humming. Cavendish tenses and then trembles a little, probably from surprise, and Vinnie uses the hand on Cavendish’s jaw to turn his head.
Cavendish whimpers when their lips meet, a trembling exhale against Vinnie’s mouth that he swallows and presses forward through. Vinnie wants to devour Cavendish, to pull him tighter and lean into him, bend him back and push his tongue into Cav’s mouth—
But it’s his first kiss, their only kiss, so instead Vinnie hedges his carnal desires and just presses a simple, soft kiss against Cavendish’s mouth. His mustache bristles and rubs against Vinnie’s upper lip and tickles his nose a little, but all it does is make him think of where else he’d like to feel the dry rasp and wet press of Cavendish’s mouth. Vinnie swallows a groan as they pull apart, blinking open his eyes to see Cavendish hasn’t opened his eyes yet. They’re actually squeezed shut, forehead wrinkled with frustration.
“Is that it?” Cavendish whispers without opening his eyes, and Vinnie can’t help but laugh.
“Disappointed?” he asks, and he knows he should be letting go, pushing Cav away, letting him forget the apparently mediocre experience. Instead Vinne just keeps holding onto him, fingers stroking hesitantly at Cavendish’s ribs and playing with the fine hairs on the back of his neck.
“No,” Cavendish whispers, but his features fall slack with clear disappointment.
“Well, what did you expect?” Vinnie asks, and Cavendish finally opens his eyes to peer at Vinnie, hazy eyes the color of clear lakewater blinking at him.
“More?” he breathes, and Vinnie feels a little stunned.
“What, you wanna make out?” he blurts before he can stop himself and Cavendish blusters and tries to push away in embarrassment. “No, wait, I’m not complaining!” Cavendish scowls at him, blushing with his hands on Vinnie’s shoulders like he’s still considering shoving him away. “Cav, I’ll kiss you all you want me to, you just gotta… say that.” Cavendish bites his lip and looks away, and Vinnie holds his breath.
“I just…want a thorough good first experience,” Cavendish mumbles, fingers fidgeting on Vinnie’s shoulders.
“I can do that,” Vinnie says, voice shaking a little with an effort to not go all to pieces at Cavendish offering himself up on a platter. “Just…say when you wanna stop, okay? I’ll stop, you just gotta tell me. Okay?”
“That sounds…acceptable,” Cavendish says hesitantly and Vinnie quickly pulls him down into another kiss.
It’s soft and slow and thorough , starting as just a gentle press and pull of Vinnie’s mouth against Cavendish’s lower lip. He pulls on Cavendish’s lip with a soft suck and then catches it in his teeth, and Vinnie is almost dizzy with how this is quickly passing his wildest expectations.
His stomach leaps when Cavendish’s fingers tighten on his shoulders, not to push him away, but just to feel him, and Vinnie groans as he pushes another kiss up against Cavendish’s mouth. Cavendish shudders and presses tighter against him as Vinnie opens his mouth mid-kiss to trace his tongue over Cavendish’s lower lip. The hand Vinnie has on the small of Cavendish’s back sneaks under his jacket to slide up and then back down Cav’s spine, fingers tracing the gentle knobs of his vertebrae. Cavendish arches from the touch, chest and belly pressing into Vinnie’s softer ones, and Vinnie hums into Cavendish’s open mouth, sliding his tongue forward and his hand down below Cavendish’s belt to cup the curve of his ass.
Cavendish yelps and breaks the kiss, and Vinnie quickly pulls his hand away.
“Too much?” he asks, breathing hard. Vinnie can taste tea, and he swallows weakly.
“Y-yes,” Cavendish stutters, so pink and flustered Vinnie can’t help but push forward into the space Cavendish had put between them and reach up with both hands to pull Cavendish back into another kiss.
It’s utterly, hideously selfish; he’s enjoying this far too much to just be in it to give his friend a good experience, but Vinnie can’t stop . Kissing Cavendish is more intoxicating than he’d anticipated it being, and every time he nudges his way under that disheveled mustache to press more kisses to Cav’s thin lips, Vinnie craves more .
At least Cavendish doesn’t seem to be objecting; his hands came to hold Vinnie’s sides after Vinnie had grabbed his face to pull him down into a kiss, and he’s kissing Vinnie back as eagerly as a total newbie at kissing could be. Which means he’s mostly standing there with his hands knotted in Vinnie’s jacket and his mouth is doing its best to move in tandem with Vinnie’s.
Vinnie’s head is spinning, probably from lack of oxygen, when they break apart again, and Vinnie doesn’t want to stop even if they need to breathe, so he starts pressing kisses to Cavendish’s throat, nipping a little at the skin under the hook of Cavendish’s jaw.
“You’re stunning, you know?” Vinnie mumbles against Cavendish’s adam’s apple without much thought. “Can’t believe you’ve never done this. Someone that looks like you.”
“I don’t…” Cavendish says hoarsely, shaking as Vinnie’s tongue traces a circle over his skin before latching on to suck lightly. He almost wants to leave a mark on Cavendish, but that would probably start to edge into Too Much again, so instead Vinnie lets go to slide his hands into Cavendish’s neat hair, messing it all up and knotting his fingers in it to bring Cav down into another kiss. Cavendish moans weakly against Vinnie’s mouth and he can’t help but flash a grin.
“You like that?” Vinnie huffs, pressing their foreheads together. Cavendish nods a little before grimacing.
“I’m afraid my back is killing me,” he sighs after a moment, pulling away to straighten up. He’s only about six inches taller, but he has to hunch down to kiss Vinnie, and he imagines it would be a bit rough on the upper back.
“Do you want to…stop?” Vinnie asks weakly, and Cavendish appears to think about it for a minute, biting his lip in thought.
“Do you?” he finally settles on, and Vinnie almost laughs.
“No,” he says, and it’s the truth, has been since before they’d even started kissing. He always wants more.
“Then I guess we won’t,” Cavendish says, sitting down in his chair again. Vinnie’s on him before he can think, planting one knee in the gap between Cavendish’s thighs and bracing his hands on the back of the chair so they’re nearly nose to nose.
“Yeah?” he breathes, hardly able to believe it. Cavendish blushes, reaching up to slide his arms hesitantly around Vinnie’s neck.
“Yes,” Cavendish finally says, pulling Vinnie down into another kiss.