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numb3rsflashficTitle: The Ice Cream of Life
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: R/Slash
Word Count: 1655 words
Spoilers: Through 1.12 Noisy Edge.
Summary: Ice cream makes everything better.
Notes/Warning: Tag to 1.12 Noisy Edge.
Written: July 7, 2006
How about fun, Charlie? What do you ever do for fun?
Glad to see you’re taking my advice and having some fun.
~Don to Charlie, 1.12 Noisy Edge
“Do you really think I don’t know how to have fun?”
Charlie sat cross-legged on Don’s couch, sitting sideways so that he faced Don, who was slouched down, legs sprawled, beer bottle sitting on his belly as he picked at one corner with a chipped nail. His elbows rested on the pad of paper laying across his knees. He’d been scribbling equations across it before the question had pushed its way forward and refused to leave him alone until he’d blurted it out.
Don looked up from the bottle he’d been concentrating so hard on peeling the label off of. “What?”
“Fun,” Charlie repeated. “Twice this week you’ve told me I should do something fun, implying that you think I don’t already have any fun.”
“No, Charlie.” Don sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I know you know how to have fun, I just.... I thought you might want to, you know, hang out with someone besides me all the time, that’s all.”
“I don’t hang out with you all the time. I do stuff with Larry and Amita.” Charlie thought he saw something dark pass through Don’s eyes, but he was too intent on getting this out to pay it much notice. “And when I do hang out with you, it’s because I want to.” He stared at Don, willing him to understand.
“Unless....” His chest tightened painfully at the thought, and his eyes burned. “Unless you don’t want to....”
Don reached out and grabbed his hand. The little shake and the damp coolness of the touch drew him out of the dismal place his thoughts had taken him.
“Charlie, no. That’s not, that’s not what I meant, buddy.”
“Then what?”
“I just....” Don paused, and Charlie could see the internal struggle as he gathered his thoughts, as he searched for just the right words, or maybe just struggled to get them out. “Are you sure that this...,” he paused again, and his grip tightened on Charlie’s hand, “...is what you want?”
He shot a quick glance at Charlie’s face before looking back down to where his thumb was now caressing the back of Charlie’s hand.
“Don, of course this is what I want.” Charlie grasped his wrist, felt the rapid pulse under his fingers. “Why would you even think it’s not? H-have I done something, or, or said someth—?”
“No, Charlie, no, please don’t, don’t get all worked up. You didn’t do, or say, anything, I just....” Don twined his fingers with Charlie’s. “Charlie, I know that this is difficult, having to hide what we, what we feel, and I just don’t want you doing this only because you think it’s what I want.”
Charlie couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him, partly in relief, and partly because, well, really!
Don looked up at him in surprise. “What’s so funny? Charlie, I’m being serious here.”
Don’s annoyed tone only served to make him laugh even harder. “I know, I know you are, Don, th-that’s what’s so funny.”
Don gave an angry jerk of his hand, tried to pull it out of Charlie’s, but he refused to let go.
“I’m glad you find this amusing, Charlie, but I don’t.”
“I know, I know that, Don, I’m sorry,” Charlie said, trying not to chuckle. He snatched the bottle out of Don’s hand before it reached his mouth and set it on the coffee table.
“Hey!”
Ignoring him, Charlie rolled up onto his knees, disregarded the pad of paper that slid off and tumbled onto the floor. He cupped Don’s face and kissed him. At first just a gentle press of lips, then more as Charlie urged Don’s lips apart with his tongue. Breathless, he pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead against Don’s.
“When have I ever done anything just because you wanted it, huh?” he asked, his tone light, but earnest.
Charlie could actually see Don try to pull himself back together again from the kiss.
“What about, uh, that time when you were three, and I made you carry my bat all the way to the park?”
“Are you kidding me?” Charlie sat back so he could see Don’s face. “You were Don Eppes, the coolest kid I knew, and I would have begged to carry your bat if you hadn’t handed it to me. Man, I was in heaven. You think I didn’t make sure all the other kids knew that I was carrying your bat?”
Don blushed. “Charlie.”
“No, seriously, Don. You’ll have to think of something else.” He waited while Don just stared at him. “Well?”
“Okay. What about that time we went to Disney World when I know you wanted to go to the petting zoo?”
Charlie barely kept from rolling his eyes. “It was your birthday.” He made a continue gesture with his hand.
“You went to all my baseball games instead of meeting with that one tutor mom and dad got you.”
“I love baseball, and I loved watching you play. I still do.” He watched Don’s face as he absorbed that information. “Don, I wanted to spend time with you more than anything, and I still want that.”
“Even more than numbers?”
Instead of answering immediately, Charlie stopped a moment and considered that, remembered how numbers had been so easy for him, and how he’d proudly shared everything he’d discovered with Don, wanting him to enjoy it, as well. “Yes, Donny, more than numbers. I love numbers, but if I had to choose between numbers and you, I’d choose you. I’ll always choose you.”
Charlie waited for Don to say something, then lightly punched his arm. “And you? If forced to do so by dire circumstances, you’d choose me over the FBI, right?”
“Well,” Don said, with a raise of both eyebrows, “I don’t know. I mean, we’re talking the FBI here, Charlie. We get to wear cool sunglasses and carry guns, and stuff.”
Charlie punched him again, this time not as light.
“Ouch!” Don laughed.
“You’re not even funny.”
“I’m a little funny,” Don said as he rubbed his arm, still grinning at Charlie.
“Not even a little bit.”
Don reached an arm out and got it around Charlie’s neck, pulled him in close despite Charlie’s flailing hands that clipped Don’s jaw as he got tipped over onto his lap.
“Ow,” “Sorry,” they said at the same time.
Charlie leaned up to kiss the line of Don’s jaw, near where he figured he’d hit him. “I love you, Donny. I’d have spent every moment with you, if I could. I still would. I have more fun with you than with anyone else.”
“Even Larry?”
“Even Larry.”
“Even, ah, Amita?”
Charlie saw that same dark look he’d thought he’d seen pass through Don’s eyes before, and something clicked. “Is that what this is all about? Amita?”
Don looked uncomfortable at Charlie’s probing question. “No, I just....”
“What, you think I might suddenly decide I want a white picket fence and 2.5 children?”
“You have a lot to offer children.”
“So do you,” Charlie said, but he didn’t want to think about what Don might be giving up to be with him, because that way lay madness, as this entire conversation just went to prove. “Besides, I’d probably lose them.”
Don gave him a be serious look.
“Okay, no, seriously, I probably wouldn’t lose them, if I had one of those leash things, but that’s beside the point, which is that I don’t want children, unless, of course, they’re yours.”
Don raised his eyebrow at that, and Charlie realized how ridiculous it sounded. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d do barefoot and pregnant well, Charlie,” Don said, fighting off a grin.
Charlie gave his hair a sharp tug, then dug his fingers in and pulled him down until Don’s face was close to his. He kissed him again, a quick peck on the lips. “You know what I meant,” he said, then waited for Don to smile, feeling that familiar tug low in his belly when his eyes crinkled up. “Although, I bet you’d look great barefoot and pregnant.”
Don growled and rolled them on the couch so that Charlie was lying under him.
Charlie laughed when Don nuzzled his neck, tickled him with his tongue as he sucked the sensitive skin. He could do things without Don, and frequently did—dinner with Larry and Amita, math conferences, lunches with Megan. But the fact was, things were just more fun with Don there. They always had been, and Charlie knew they always would be.
Don was like...ice cream. Cake was delicious all by itself, but it was even better with ice cream. So was pie, for that matter. Don was Charlie’s ice cream. His life was good—he had friends, a great job, his health, his father... Yeah, his life was good, it was just better with Don in it.
Charlie lifted Don’s head away from his neck and saw the worry when Don caught sight of his face.
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Charlie...?
“I love you, Don.”
“I love you, too, Charlie. Wha—?”
Charlie pulled him into a kiss, then released him long enough to say, “Make love to me.”
“Charlie....”
“Please, Donny. I want to feel you inside me. I want to still be able to feel you tomorrow.”
Don groaned and dropped his head, his lips moving on Charlie’s skin, nibbling on his ear.
Charlie lifted his hips in encouragement and tugged Don’s shirt out of his pants.
“And then we can go out for ice cream.”
Don lifted his head and gave him a quizzical look, which Charlie kissed away.
“Ice cream makes everything better.”
“Even sex?” Don asked, confused by Charlie’s talk of ice cream.
Charlie grinned, then laughed low and dirty. He watched Don’s face go a little lax as he hardened against him. “Especially sex,” he said, and then proceeded to prove it.
The End
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: R/Slash
Word Count: 1655 words
Spoilers: Through 1.12 Noisy Edge.
Summary: Ice cream makes everything better.
Notes/Warning: Tag to 1.12 Noisy Edge.
Written: July 7, 2006
Glad to see you’re taking my advice and having some fun.
~Don to Charlie, 1.12 Noisy Edge
“Do you really think I don’t know how to have fun?”
Charlie sat cross-legged on Don’s couch, sitting sideways so that he faced Don, who was slouched down, legs sprawled, beer bottle sitting on his belly as he picked at one corner with a chipped nail. His elbows rested on the pad of paper laying across his knees. He’d been scribbling equations across it before the question had pushed its way forward and refused to leave him alone until he’d blurted it out.
Don looked up from the bottle he’d been concentrating so hard on peeling the label off of. “What?”
“Fun,” Charlie repeated. “Twice this week you’ve told me I should do something fun, implying that you think I don’t already have any fun.”
“No, Charlie.” Don sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I know you know how to have fun, I just.... I thought you might want to, you know, hang out with someone besides me all the time, that’s all.”
“I don’t hang out with you all the time. I do stuff with Larry and Amita.” Charlie thought he saw something dark pass through Don’s eyes, but he was too intent on getting this out to pay it much notice. “And when I do hang out with you, it’s because I want to.” He stared at Don, willing him to understand.
“Unless....” His chest tightened painfully at the thought, and his eyes burned. “Unless you don’t want to....”
Don reached out and grabbed his hand. The little shake and the damp coolness of the touch drew him out of the dismal place his thoughts had taken him.
“Charlie, no. That’s not, that’s not what I meant, buddy.”
“Then what?”
“I just....” Don paused, and Charlie could see the internal struggle as he gathered his thoughts, as he searched for just the right words, or maybe just struggled to get them out. “Are you sure that this...,” he paused again, and his grip tightened on Charlie’s hand, “...is what you want?”
He shot a quick glance at Charlie’s face before looking back down to where his thumb was now caressing the back of Charlie’s hand.
“Don, of course this is what I want.” Charlie grasped his wrist, felt the rapid pulse under his fingers. “Why would you even think it’s not? H-have I done something, or, or said someth—?”
“No, Charlie, no, please don’t, don’t get all worked up. You didn’t do, or say, anything, I just....” Don twined his fingers with Charlie’s. “Charlie, I know that this is difficult, having to hide what we, what we feel, and I just don’t want you doing this only because you think it’s what I want.”
Charlie couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him, partly in relief, and partly because, well, really!
Don looked up at him in surprise. “What’s so funny? Charlie, I’m being serious here.”
Don’s annoyed tone only served to make him laugh even harder. “I know, I know you are, Don, th-that’s what’s so funny.”
Don gave an angry jerk of his hand, tried to pull it out of Charlie’s, but he refused to let go.
“I’m glad you find this amusing, Charlie, but I don’t.”
“I know, I know that, Don, I’m sorry,” Charlie said, trying not to chuckle. He snatched the bottle out of Don’s hand before it reached his mouth and set it on the coffee table.
“Hey!”
Ignoring him, Charlie rolled up onto his knees, disregarded the pad of paper that slid off and tumbled onto the floor. He cupped Don’s face and kissed him. At first just a gentle press of lips, then more as Charlie urged Don’s lips apart with his tongue. Breathless, he pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead against Don’s.
“When have I ever done anything just because you wanted it, huh?” he asked, his tone light, but earnest.
Charlie could actually see Don try to pull himself back together again from the kiss.
“What about, uh, that time when you were three, and I made you carry my bat all the way to the park?”
“Are you kidding me?” Charlie sat back so he could see Don’s face. “You were Don Eppes, the coolest kid I knew, and I would have begged to carry your bat if you hadn’t handed it to me. Man, I was in heaven. You think I didn’t make sure all the other kids knew that I was carrying your bat?”
Don blushed. “Charlie.”
“No, seriously, Don. You’ll have to think of something else.” He waited while Don just stared at him. “Well?”
“Okay. What about that time we went to Disney World when I know you wanted to go to the petting zoo?”
Charlie barely kept from rolling his eyes. “It was your birthday.” He made a continue gesture with his hand.
“You went to all my baseball games instead of meeting with that one tutor mom and dad got you.”
“I love baseball, and I loved watching you play. I still do.” He watched Don’s face as he absorbed that information. “Don, I wanted to spend time with you more than anything, and I still want that.”
“Even more than numbers?”
Instead of answering immediately, Charlie stopped a moment and considered that, remembered how numbers had been so easy for him, and how he’d proudly shared everything he’d discovered with Don, wanting him to enjoy it, as well. “Yes, Donny, more than numbers. I love numbers, but if I had to choose between numbers and you, I’d choose you. I’ll always choose you.”
Charlie waited for Don to say something, then lightly punched his arm. “And you? If forced to do so by dire circumstances, you’d choose me over the FBI, right?”
“Well,” Don said, with a raise of both eyebrows, “I don’t know. I mean, we’re talking the FBI here, Charlie. We get to wear cool sunglasses and carry guns, and stuff.”
Charlie punched him again, this time not as light.
“Ouch!” Don laughed.
“You’re not even funny.”
“I’m a little funny,” Don said as he rubbed his arm, still grinning at Charlie.
“Not even a little bit.”
Don reached an arm out and got it around Charlie’s neck, pulled him in close despite Charlie’s flailing hands that clipped Don’s jaw as he got tipped over onto his lap.
“Ow,” “Sorry,” they said at the same time.
Charlie leaned up to kiss the line of Don’s jaw, near where he figured he’d hit him. “I love you, Donny. I’d have spent every moment with you, if I could. I still would. I have more fun with you than with anyone else.”
“Even Larry?”
“Even Larry.”
“Even, ah, Amita?”
Charlie saw that same dark look he’d thought he’d seen pass through Don’s eyes before, and something clicked. “Is that what this is all about? Amita?”
Don looked uncomfortable at Charlie’s probing question. “No, I just....”
“What, you think I might suddenly decide I want a white picket fence and 2.5 children?”
“You have a lot to offer children.”
“So do you,” Charlie said, but he didn’t want to think about what Don might be giving up to be with him, because that way lay madness, as this entire conversation just went to prove. “Besides, I’d probably lose them.”
Don gave him a be serious look.
“Okay, no, seriously, I probably wouldn’t lose them, if I had one of those leash things, but that’s beside the point, which is that I don’t want children, unless, of course, they’re yours.”
Don raised his eyebrow at that, and Charlie realized how ridiculous it sounded. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d do barefoot and pregnant well, Charlie,” Don said, fighting off a grin.
Charlie gave his hair a sharp tug, then dug his fingers in and pulled him down until Don’s face was close to his. He kissed him again, a quick peck on the lips. “You know what I meant,” he said, then waited for Don to smile, feeling that familiar tug low in his belly when his eyes crinkled up. “Although, I bet you’d look great barefoot and pregnant.”
Don growled and rolled them on the couch so that Charlie was lying under him.
Charlie laughed when Don nuzzled his neck, tickled him with his tongue as he sucked the sensitive skin. He could do things without Don, and frequently did—dinner with Larry and Amita, math conferences, lunches with Megan. But the fact was, things were just more fun with Don there. They always had been, and Charlie knew they always would be.
Don was like...ice cream. Cake was delicious all by itself, but it was even better with ice cream. So was pie, for that matter. Don was Charlie’s ice cream. His life was good—he had friends, a great job, his health, his father... Yeah, his life was good, it was just better with Don in it.
Charlie lifted Don’s head away from his neck and saw the worry when Don caught sight of his face.
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Charlie...?
“I love you, Don.”
“I love you, too, Charlie. Wha—?”
Charlie pulled him into a kiss, then released him long enough to say, “Make love to me.”
“Charlie....”
“Please, Donny. I want to feel you inside me. I want to still be able to feel you tomorrow.”
Don groaned and dropped his head, his lips moving on Charlie’s skin, nibbling on his ear.
Charlie lifted his hips in encouragement and tugged Don’s shirt out of his pants.
“And then we can go out for ice cream.”
Don lifted his head and gave him a quizzical look, which Charlie kissed away.
“Ice cream makes everything better.”
“Even sex?” Don asked, confused by Charlie’s talk of ice cream.
Charlie grinned, then laughed low and dirty. He watched Don’s face go a little lax as he hardened against him. “Especially sex,” he said, and then proceeded to prove it.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 09:54 pm (UTC)You killed me with this. I just loved it!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 09:55 pm (UTC)“Please, Donny. I want to feel you inside me. I want to still be able to feel you tomorrow.”
Oh, *guh*! I love when Charlie is all needy. You know it makes Don extra hard.
/wonders if Don will have another Charlie Sundae/
no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 11:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 03:50 am (UTC)b-b-but you can't stop there! Charlie laughing like that? Proving things? And you fade to black like-- like TBS network or something? (because CBS won't even admit it's happening, of course.)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 01:28 pm (UTC)That's exactly what I would do. *snort* Great story. I love these guys!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-08 02:45 pm (UTC)Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and that you like these guys. What's not to like?! *g*