#weggbor

[gayhabit]

happy birthday to a very special wegg! finished up this piece from a bit ago for the occasion 🍰🏳️‍⚧️

[zombified-queer]

bonfire + weggbor

The invitation is really more for Mister Neighbor. But Wegg brings Jack along to the bonfire party out by the lake. Harvest moon.

By the time they emerge out of the woods, the fire is already going. Shoulder-height to Wegg himself. There’s a collection of recently-felled logs and folding chairs set around the bonfire, out of range of the embers. People sit and watch the fire or stand in clusters of two and three, talking amongst themselves.

Mister Neighbor refuses to get closer to the fire than the furthest chair. He stands behind I, watching the flames. He’s nervous. Wegg can tell by the tight smile and look in his eyes.

“Here’s fine,” Wegg assures him. “Warm.”

“Warm.” Mister Neighbor breaks into a smile. “Right.”

Someone hands them both a beer, chilled and dripping melted ice. Wegg shrugs, cracks the can, and shotguns it. Mister Neighbor opens his can of beer and sips it slowly. Wegg never took him for a lightweight, but that probably comes with the territory.

A healthy fear of fire and no real stomach or liver to soak up the booze.

“You should play something,” Mister Neighbor says. “You have a good voice.”

“And my whistle’s wet,” Wegg agrees, shrugging the case off his back. “I suppose I could play something.”

People gather as Wegg strums. But when Wegg plays, there’s only one person he looks for. One person standing outside the circle of chairs, only half-illuminated by the bonfire. Mister Neighbor.

And when Wegg sings, it’s only love songs for the man made of fabric.

[zombified-queer]

intimate moments #18 with neighbor and wegg please!

#18 – moving closer in bed

🪡 💤🎵 🪡 💤🎵 🪡 💤🎵🪡 💤🎵🪡 💤🎵🪡 💤🎵

Mister Neighbor returns to the bedroom and finds Wegg turned on his side, facing the wall. As quietly as he can, Mister Neighbor pulls back the covers, sinking down on his side of the bed.

Wegg makes a soft, sleepy sound and turns his head. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Mister Neighbor hesitates, not wanting to wake Wegg further. “Sorry, just got back. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Wegg turns over and reaches out, grabbing Neighbor’s wrist. “C’mere.”

“I’m damp. Had to clean myself up.”

“Don’t care.” Wegg scoots closer, pressing himself against Neighbor’s fleece body. “Missed you.”

“I was only gone for--” Neighbor glances at the alarm clock. “—an hour.”

“An hour you weren’t here.” And Wegg’s already wrapping himself around Neighbor, not minding the damp spots of fleece and burlap. “You smell good.”

Mister Neighbor laughs softly. “Glad you think so.”

He rests a hand on Wegg’s back. In mere seconds, Wegg’s already asleep, snoring against Mister Neighbor’s chest.

Staring at the ceiling, Mister Neighbor knows he could do this forever. For the rest of his life. He scoots a little closer, careful not to jostle Wegg as Mister Neighbor lays next to him.

Forever. Maybe a little longer.

He nods off smiling at the thought.