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David misses a Lot during these weird times. He misses being in control of his hairstyle (not because he particularly dislikes the way it is right now, but on principle because he'd just like to have a choice, you know?). He misses going out for dinner more or less once a week with Georgia, just one evening to themselves without the kids (not because he doesn't love all of them dearly but come on, they do need a break every now and again). He misses work. It's not like he's not working, he does basically everything he's asked to do that can be safely achieved from home, and that proves to be quite a lot, actually. But it's not the same, it's not quite what he wants to be doing, he doesn't want to be acting or presenting or be funny all by himself, he wants interaction, improvisation, physical communication, hugs after a show well done. He misses people. He misses Michael. Most of all, he misses Michael. His husband. That he can't tell anyone about. But that's not what matters. What matters is that he misses.
The virus had hit the country right when they had started looking for houses. They hadn't even gotten to the fun part of it yet. Looking through ads on the internet was alright and David didn't mind it, but what he had been really looking forward to (apart from the whole living together thing, of course) had been the moment when you first enter a new house and you feel - if everything goes well - a certain sense of belonging. And then you walk from room to room, imagining how it could look and how it could feel to live here and where would you put that chair? and oh, you know what would look absolutely perfect on this windowsill?
He calls Michael, deciding to make it a video call in the last second. His face lights up with his screen when Michael answers.
'David!' Michael exclaims with a mouth half full of what appears to be cheesecake, judging from the half slice that's still visible on the plate next to Michael's elbow where it rests on the table.
Now he wants cheesecake. And Michael. Always Michael. He tells him.
Michael swallows and dabs at his lips with a tissue he pulls from somewhere out of frame.
'Oh?'
'Yeah. I miss you so. Didn't even get to have a real honeymoon, did we?' David sighs.
'We'll get there, I promise. Honey.'
He's terrible and he knows it but doesn't care and that's something that David loves about him a whole lot. David laughs.
'Hmhh, how about a little lockdown honeymoon, though?' he asks and puts on his best seductive face even though it annoys him that he can see himself in that little window as well.
'Oh? Well, I certainly wouldn't mind some...distraction. What are you thinking, love?'
Michael has put the cake plate away and is now leaning in slightly. It gives David a very nice view of the open v of Michael's shirt and the hint of chest hair peeking out from under it. He licks his lips and sees Michael following the movement with his eyes.
He does it again, more intentional this time, and then wipes his thumb over his lower lip, dragging a bit like Michael does usually, before letting his hand wander down his neck to his chest and catches the zipper between two fingers.
Michael's gaze is fixed on his fingers as they drag down the zipper and then roam up his belly and chest again. He tilts the phone slightly to give Michael a better look when he rubs and plucks at one nipple until it's stiff and reddened. It aches but he doesn't stop until Michael speaks again
'Christ. That is. Wow! I had no idea, Mr. Tennant, you'd missed me quite so much.'
'Even more, Mr. Tennant. Do you, um, do you want to see how much I miss you?'
It's a private thrill to call him that, even though it's not technically correct. But then again, technically they're not really married but practically, they are.
'God, do I ever, David? But I think, maybe you better just tell me? Really wouldn't wanna risk getting video of your lovely cock out there, do we?'
David sighs. No, they definitely don't want that. He cups himself through his pants and moans, positioning the phone on the table so it shows only his upper body, but not his face.
'Is this alright?' he asks, watching Michael blush and blink slowly.
'More than. Let me just-'
The picture gets shaky while Michael rearranges his setup to match the angle David is showing. He seems hesitant for a moment, but then takes off his shirt.
David hums approvingly and licks his lips.
'Oh look at you! I can't wait to get my hands on you again,' he says and means it.
'And then what?' Michael asks. He probably tried for an unaffected tone but he can't fool David.
'And then … I'd touch you. Everywhere. Can you do this for me now?'
Michael does. David watches him run a hand down his chest, scrubbing through his chest hair the way David likes to do, only he'd follow it up with-
'And then I'd kiss you. Suck your tits until your nipples are nice and puffy.'
Michael does that, too, or the closest approximation possible, which is licking his fingers (and David curses the camera angle for missing that) and pinching his own nipples, groaning. David mirrors his movements and very selfishly he wishes for someone else to touch him, just so he could completely concentrate on Michael and the irresistible sound of his moaning.
'Oh love, yes! Fuck, Michael darling, I'm… would it be bad if I'm already almost there?'
Michael chuckles and David watches him slide a hand down, out of frame, presumably exactly where David really would like his own mouth to be right now.
'Not bad … at all …' Michael gasps. 'Go on then, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me see you, your face, I need … '
'Yeah?' David is almost breathless and gasping for air but he needs to ask, needs to know, wants to hear Michael say it.
'I want to see you come. Want to see how I make you feel!'
Mortified, David thinks at the idea of turning up the camera to show his blushing, sweaty, face, to let Michael see him lose control over his facial expression, biting his lip, and clenching his eyes shut. But then he imagines seeing Michael like this again, after so long apart and he almost comes right there and then.
'Why are you so good at this?' David complains while following the instruction he's been given. Letting Michael see. David tries not to pretend, not to make a show out of it, but he can't help arching his back just a little bit, letting his head fall back, because he knows Michael loves to grab his hair in that position and it is a absolute perfect grabbing length right now. He moans at the thought of Michael's hands in his hair, tugging ever so gently until David begs for more and - that's all he needed apparently. He bites his lip, hard, to keep from shouting as he fucks his own fist one, two, more times, imagining it's Michael's, and only opens his eyes again when he hears Michael emphatically mutter 'Fuck yes!' under his breath.
'Sorry darling, I'm gonna need to -' David whispers, blowing Michael a kiss before turning off his camera. 'Too exhausted to worry about camera angles now and I really need to clean up a bit.'
'That's fine,' Michael says and it sounds like he means that, so David is satisfied. In more than one way, that is.
'I swear that's not why I called.'
'Wouldn't mind if it was, honey. I miss you.'
'I miss you, too. We're gonna get there, right? It's not all just been a dream, has it?' David has made himself halfway presentable again (or what counts as presentable these days) and turns the camera back on to find Michael pensievely looking to the side.
'It hasn't. We will. I promise.'
'Can't promise that though, can you?'
'Yes I can. I, Michael Christopher Tennant-Sheen, hereby solemnly swear that you and I will get to live together and have everything we wanted. I truly believe it. Do you?'
David doesn't want to look away when Michael fixes him with that intense a gaze and that solemn an expression, but he's also pretty sure he couldn't if he did want to. He runs a hand over his face and through his hair and gets a gentle smile for his efforts.
'Do you?'
'Yeah. Yes. If you promise, then yes.'
'I do.'
'I love you, Michael.'
'I know. And I love you.'