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numb3rsflashficTitle: Undercurrents
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 3550 words
Spoilers: Through end of second season, to be safe.
Summary: There are undercurrents in Don and Charlie’s relationship.
Notes/Warning: Incest.
Written: July 22, 2006
Charlie had always known that he felt too deeply for Don, felt too much for it to be mere brotherly love. When they were younger, he could have flown without wings when Don paid attention to him, and had been jealous and morose when Don ignored him in favor of his friends. Always there had been something...more, something that hid just beneath the surface. He’d been sixteen when he’d realized exactly what it was.
He’d graduated from Princeton in two and a half years—a semester longer than he’d thought it would take, to his disgust—and had begun studying for his Masters at CalSci. It was a good school, and besides, he’d missed California—and Don—his mother’s presence the only thing that kept him from succumbing to homesickness on those occasions when he lifted his head out of his books.
That spring, as soon as he’d seen a copy of Don’s baseball schedule stuck up on the refrigerator with one of his mother’s colorful rooster magnets, Charlie had mentally run through his class schedule to determine how he could fit in as many games as possible. At the first game he’d gone to, a couple of college girls who had also come to watch the game had struck up a conversation with him, much to his parent’s delight if the laughter behind him was any indication. Despite his preoccupation with keeping Don’s stats, or perhaps because of it, they were still talking to him when his parents climbed down off the bleachers to find Don.
When he’d finally extricated himself from the girls—only after promising that he’d be at the next home game—Charlie had come upon his parents and brother just as Don was saying, “I thought Charlie was coming today.”
“Hey,” he’d said.
Don had turned to him, startled, then smiled. “Hey, Chuck, glad you could make it.”
Even then Don had gotten those sexy crinkles at the corners of his eyes that had made Charlie’s stomach feel like it was full of butterflies, and made his voice come out a little breathless when he said, “Don’t call me that.”
Charlie had always felt a little thrill of excitement when Don had turned the full force of that smile on him. Or when he’d made Charlie the focus of his attention, even when he’d put him in a headlock and given him a noogie, or wrestled him to the floor and tickled him out of the remote. It was only now, after a few years at Princeton had given him a newfound self-confidence to go along with his air of distraction—which, it turned out, had made him more attractive to the opposite sex, and a few of the same—that he understood what that tickle low in his belly meant.
*~*~*
He’d been nineteen when he’d realized that Don felt it, too.
Don had been with the Stockton Rangers for two years and Charlie had gotten his Masters and had currently been working on his PhD. He’d gone to as many of Don’s games as he could, and often spent the night on the couch in Don’s small apartment.
After one particular game, one of Don’s teammates, Matt, who was the same age as Charlie, had been asking him if he would be staying in town and if he wanted to do something that evening. Don, his hair wet from the shower, had appeared out of nowhere and draped his arm over Charlie’s shoulder. “We’ve got plans,” he’d told Matt, then dragged Charlie off to the used Mustang he’d bought to replace the VW when it had finally died.
“What are our plans?” Charlie had asked, a little distracted because Don hadn’t removed his arm.
Don had shrugged. “I figured we could order takeout and rent a movie.”
Flush with pleasure that Don had wanted to spend time with him, Charlie had felt the urge to laugh out loud and share his happiness with the world, but he hadn’t wanted Don to think he was laughing at him, so he’d just smiled, poked his elbow into Don’s side, and agreed that takeout and a movie sounded good. He hadn’t felt it necessary to remind Don that was the same thing they did every time Charlie stayed over, because he’d rather spend time with Don than anyone else, and it just didn’t matter to him what they did, but he hadn’t wanted Don getting complacent, so he’d called dibs on picking the movie. Don had retaliated with a noogie and the announcement that he’d get to pick the takeout.
Three beers later—one for Charlie over Don’s perfunctory protest, and two for Don—Charlie had leaned into Don like he used to do when they were kids, and, just as then, Don raised his arm and put it around Charlie’s shoulders. He’d snuggled in close, pressed his hand against Don’s chest. He’d found it difficult not to turn his hand over and twine his fingers with Don’s when Don had covered Charlie’s hand with his own, stroked his thumb over it.
When he’d finally built up the courage, he’d tilted his head back, looked up at Don who was looking back at him. Charlie saw it then, that recognition in Don’s eyes, before he’d blinked and shuttered it away. He hadn’t been sure what Don saw in his own eyes, but suspected that it was the same need.
“We can’t do this, Charlie,” Don had said.
“Why not?”
Don had just kissed the top of Charlie’s head and then locked himself inside his bedroom. Charlie still wasn’t sure if he’d been trying to keep Charlie out, or make sure he stayed in.
Charlie had gone back to LA the next morning and, while he still went to Don’s games, he never again spent the night. Before the end of the season, Don had been accepted to the FBI Academy. Two months after Don left LA, Charlie met Susan.
*~*~*
It was nearly two years after Don had returned to LA for their mother’s illness when Charlie realized that the undercurrents were still there.
They were playing basketball at one of the courts in the park with some of the guys from Don’s office. Don and Charlie were put on the same team until after the first game, when the others realized that being a genius didn’t preclude you from kicking ass on the basketball court, and insisted that Team Eppes, as they called them, be split up.
Charlie threw a smirk at Don and said, “Watch your back, bro.”
Don tossed one back, pointed a finger at him. “You’re mine, Chuck.”
And then the game was on.
Charlie couldn’t believe, after the first electric shock he’d received when he and Don had collided going for the ball, that he was able to continue to play up to his usual ability. Each press of hand, each block, each slide of sweat-slicked skin only made him more sensitive to the next. He saw that same look in Don’s eyes that he’d seen once before, all those years ago, and it scalded him.
Later, when Don dropped him off at home with an excuse for dad about why he couldn’t stay for supper, Charlie figured that they were going to have to pretend, once more, that those feelings didn’t exist, keep hiding this...whatever it was between them. He wondered if Don really believed that pushing his feelings down would actually make them go away. It had been over ten years, and while they both had tried to move on with their lives, the feelings were still there.
For a week Charlie didn’t hear from Don. He couldn’t have been more surprised when Don showed up the following Saturday just as he and his father were sitting down to eat breakfast. Don was dressed in a pair of cutoff sweat pants and a tank top. His sunglasses hung over the neck of his tank and he wore a backwards baseball cap on his head. He carried a basketball under his arm.
Charlie was rendered speechless by Don’s unexpected appearance, until Don stole a piece of toast off his plate. “Hey!” He reached for the slice in an attempt to snatch it back, but Don moved out of his reach, grinning, though his eyes held a hint of something deeper.
“Hey, Donny, what brings you over here so early on a Saturday morning?”
“My breakfast, apparently,” Charlie said, curling a protective arm round his plate and glaring at Don.
Don held the basketball out in the palm of one hand, the other busy with Charlie’s toast. “Charlie needs practice.”
Charlie fell for it, hook line and sinker, just like he always did with Don. “Me? I rock. I am a basketball god. I am, I am the king of basketball. If anyone needs practice around here, it’s you.” Charlie managed to shoot the words back at Don, keep the tone light, but inside he was tied in knots. He pushed himself to his feet. “You think you can take me?”
Don’s eyes darkened as he looked Charlie over, but he held his ground. “Easily.”
All Charlie’s blood rushed south. He wasn’t sure if he was reading Don right, and if he was, wasn’t certain what had changed Don’s mind. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He shoved his chair out of the way and headed for the stairs. “That’s blasphemy. I just need to put on a pair of shorts, and then I’ll show you who’s going down.”
Don choked, turned it into a cough. “Bring a change of clothes, you can shower at my place.”
Charlie stumbled up the stairs at the implication.
*~*~*
Don, the bastard, actually drove them to the park where they met up with the same bunch of guys they’d played basketball with last week. As if the last ten years wasn’t enough, for the next hour they pushed each other closer to the edge. Don’s hand pressing into Charlie’s lower back when he went up for a shot, the feel of Don’s shoulder sliding across his arm, leaving a trail of sweat behind, their chests crashing together as Charlie went up to block Don’s shot.
Charlie vibrated with need the entire drive back to Don’s apartment. He was so ready that, when Don pushed him back against the closed door, he immediately tilted his head up, lips parted for their first kiss.
Don’s lips touched his and his tongue swept into Charlie’s mouth.
Charlie could tell that Don wanted to be gentle, but had pushed himself past the point where he could control the need he’d denied for so long. Charlie thought that was only fair, since he’d also been forced to try to ignore the aching want he had for Don. He slid his hands around Don, one around his waist, the other curled over his shoulder, and tugged him closer. He opened his mouth wider and teased Don’s tongue with his own, urging him to deepen the kiss.
Charlie could feel the tremors as, even now, Don struggled with his restraint. He slid his hand down over Don’s ass and pulled him in until their groins met, and he felt it shatter as Don groaned into his mouth.
Don lifted his head and Charlie said, “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Don.” He wanted that so much. His whole body ached for Don.
Don buried his face in Charlie’s neck, and he heard the unspoken, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” on Don’s lips.
“Quit thinking,” he said, ignoring Don’s snort as he rubbed himself against Don’s leg. “We’ve already wasted too much time, Donny, please. Please, fuck me.”
Don lifted his head and looked into Charlie’s eyes. “Charlie....”
“Don’t say it, Don. Don’t say it, because I-I don’t care. I don’t care. I want this. I want, uh, want you.”
Don’s hands framed his face, pushed his hair back. “Charlie, you don’t know....”
“I’m not a child anymore, Don. I wasn’t then, either, just, uh, just for the record. I knew what I wanted. And I-I still want it. Even after all these years. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you’re just as screwed up as I am,” Don said, and kissed him again.
“As long as we’re screwed up together,” Charlie said when Don let him up for air, his voice a little rough.
He shivered when Don pushed his t-shirt up, splayed his fingers over Charlie’s stomach, the touch burning, even against his overheated skin. He moaned when Don licked at his neck as he slid his hand up Charlie’s torso, gasped when Don’s fingers teased his nipple.
“Like that?” Don asked, his breath tickling over Charlie’s ear.
Charlie tried to answer, but he knew he’d failed to say anything coherent when Don just laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said as he stroked his thumb over the nub until it was a hard peak and Charlie was panting for air, his fingers digging into Don’s back as he tried to keep from flying away.
Don lifted his shirt and Charlie obediently raised his arms so he could pull it over his head. Don licked and sucked at the same nipple he’d teased to a hard nub.
Charlie slid his hands up the back of Don’s neck, through the sweat dampened hair that curled there, and dislodged the baseball cap so he could bury his fingers in it.
Don raised his head and Charlie gasped, “Don’t stop,” then groaned when Don latched onto his other nipple. Don brought his head back up and kissed him.
Charlie kissed back, trying to pour all of his feelings into the kiss. He nearly bit Don’s tongue when Don closed his hand around him through his shorts, squeezed a little.
“You still want me to fuck you?”
Charlie’s entire body tightened in anticipation. “Yes. Please, yes.”
Don led him to the bedroom, steadying him when he stumbled over the bag he’d dropped before his back had even touched the door. Before they made it through the bedroom door, Don was already pushing Charlie’s shorts down while Charlie tried to get Don’s tank top off.
Don eventually persevered and pushed Charlie down onto the bed so he could pull shorts, socks and sneakers off and dump them onto the floor. For a moment, he just stood there staring at Charlie, then reached out and ran his hand up the inside of Charlie’s thigh.
Charlie’s muscles quivered at the touch. “Don, please.”
Don lifted the tank over his head and Charlie couldn’t resist raising himself up onto his elbow and reaching out with one hand to touch his chest. He combed his fingers through the soft hair, then dragged them down the trail that began at his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.
Don pushed his shorts down. Freed from the confines of his shorts, Don’s cock bounced up and slapped against Charlie’s wrist, leaving a streak of pre-come.
Charlie brought his wrist to his mouth and licked it, savored this first taste of Don.
Don, in the process of kicking his sneaker off, groaned and climbed onto the bed between Charlie’s legs, shorts still trapped around his ankles. He leaned down and kissed him, eagerly lapped at his mouth as if he was trying to get up every last trace of himself so he could get to Charlie.
Don reached beneath Charlie and cupped his ass as he lowered himself until his cock pressed into Charlie’s groin. Don pushed against him, and Charlie’s cock slid through the coarse hair at the base of Don’s cock.
“Oh, god, Don.”
“Sorry, Charlie, sorry, can’t.... Too close.”
Charlie wrapped his arms around Don, braced his feet on the bed, and thrust up as Don ground down.
Don was braced on his elbows, but even so, Charlie could feel his arms shake with the effort. He slid his hand down Don’s back, slipping easily through the sheen of sweat, pressed his fingers against Don’s lower back.
“Come on, Don,” Charlie urged, pushing up against him as Don drove into him.
Don’s breath was hot and moist against the side of his face, his breathing loud and ragged. His own pulse pounded in his ear as he drew closer and closer to release, until the pressure built in his balls and his rhythm faltered.
“Don.”
His cock pulsed and warmth spread between them, Don’s breath hitched in his ear. He sped up his thrusts, then grunted into Charlie’s neck and slammed hard against him before more warmth seeped between them.
Don slumped against him, then rolled off with a groan to lay on his back beside Charlie. He toed his remaining sneaker off, then pulled his feet out of his shorts and briefs, let them fall to the floor. They rested in silence, the only sound their harsh breaths as they slowed. When the silence went on too long, grew too deep, Charlie rolled to his side and glared at Don.
“Stop it.”
Don shot him a guilty look.
“You have to trust me.”
Don’s eyes narrowed with frustration, and not a little annoyance. “I do trust you, Charlie. I trust you everyday....”
“Not with numbers, with us.” Charlie ran his fingers through the come spattered across Don’s chest. “You can trust me, you should trust me, to know what I’m doing. To know what I need, what I want.”
Don stared at him for a long time, into his eyes, then finally the guilt began to fade from his own. “So what do you want?”
Charlie inspected the symbols he’d drawn on Don’s skin, then lifted his hand to his mouth, stuck one finger between his lips and sucked it clean. He grinned at the heat that flared in Don’s eyes. “Besides you, you mean?”
At Don’s distracted nod, he said, “Well, I could use a shower.” He slid over Don until they lay chest to chest, their come slippery between them. “As could you.” He gave a little shimmy to emphasize his point. “And you should eat something.” He kissed the tip of Don’s nose. “Keep up your strength.” He nibbled on Don’s lips. “I think you’ll find that I’m a very...,” he paused to suck on Don’s tongue. “...voracious....” He sucked Don’s lip, letting it go with a pop. “...lover.”
Laughing at Don’s glazed expression and the semi-hard cock pressing against his belly, Charlie started to roll off of Don, and the bed, intent on that shower. Don had other plans, however. He rolled with Charlie until he was on top of him and had him pinned to the mattress, his erection digging into Charlie’s hip. He kissed Charlie until they were both breathless.
“I can’t believe I’m getting hard again.”
“All part of my evil plan,” Charlie said.
“You must be desperate to be fucked,” Don teased against Charlie’s neck as he sucked and nibbled the skin there.
“Actually,” Charlie said, feigning a calm he didn’t feel, “I was thinking about getting on my knees and sucking you off in the shower.”
Don’s hips moved against him. “Christ, Charlie. Does that mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”
With Don distracted, Charlie was able to free his arms, and he wrapped them around Don, holding him close. “Of course I want you to fuck me, but I thought you could use some work on your stamina.” He grinned at Don’s huff of annoyance, stroked his hands up and down Don’s back. “I don’t want you going off like a bottle rocket the second you slide inside my hot, tight ass.”
Don groaned and laughed against Charlie’s neck. “Got a pretty high opinion of yourself, don’t you, buddy?”
“Maybe,” Charlie said. “You can tell me later, after I suck your brains out your dick, and after you feed me a dinner high in carbs, whether it’s unearned, okay?”
Don cupped Charlie’s face. “Okay,” he said, and kissed him until Charlie thrust his hips, desperate for friction. Don rolled off, leaving Charlie to stare at the flexing muscles in his bare ass as he walked across the bedroom. “Let’s get that shower now,” he said, pausing to pose against the doorframe, one hand sliding along his length.
The sight made Charlie’s mouth water. He pushed himself off the bed and staggered to the doorway Don had disappeared through. He heard the water come on before he reached the door, stood staring at Don as he leaned over the tub to check the temperature, then turned the shower on.
When Don turned back to him, he was still hard, but his expression was serious again. Charlie went to him, placed his fingers over Don’s lips when he opened them to speak.
“Shower first, then we’ll talk. Then you’re taking Dad and me out to eat, and then you’re bringing me back here so you can fuck me. Promise.”
Charlie could see Don’s throat work as he swallowed.
“Promise.”
“I promise,” Don said, and Charlie wrapped him in a hug.
“You can’t stop now,” he whispered. “You’ve already taken the hardest step.”
“What’s that?”
“Admitting that these feelings are real,” Charlie said, and pulled Don into the shower, where he intended to give him every reason to stay on the path they’d started down.
The End
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 3550 words
Spoilers: Through end of second season, to be safe.
Summary: There are undercurrents in Don and Charlie’s relationship.
Notes/Warning: Incest.
Written: July 22, 2006
Charlie had always known that he felt too deeply for Don, felt too much for it to be mere brotherly love. When they were younger, he could have flown without wings when Don paid attention to him, and had been jealous and morose when Don ignored him in favor of his friends. Always there had been something...more, something that hid just beneath the surface. He’d been sixteen when he’d realized exactly what it was.
He’d graduated from Princeton in two and a half years—a semester longer than he’d thought it would take, to his disgust—and had begun studying for his Masters at CalSci. It was a good school, and besides, he’d missed California—and Don—his mother’s presence the only thing that kept him from succumbing to homesickness on those occasions when he lifted his head out of his books.
That spring, as soon as he’d seen a copy of Don’s baseball schedule stuck up on the refrigerator with one of his mother’s colorful rooster magnets, Charlie had mentally run through his class schedule to determine how he could fit in as many games as possible. At the first game he’d gone to, a couple of college girls who had also come to watch the game had struck up a conversation with him, much to his parent’s delight if the laughter behind him was any indication. Despite his preoccupation with keeping Don’s stats, or perhaps because of it, they were still talking to him when his parents climbed down off the bleachers to find Don.
When he’d finally extricated himself from the girls—only after promising that he’d be at the next home game—Charlie had come upon his parents and brother just as Don was saying, “I thought Charlie was coming today.”
“Hey,” he’d said.
Don had turned to him, startled, then smiled. “Hey, Chuck, glad you could make it.”
Even then Don had gotten those sexy crinkles at the corners of his eyes that had made Charlie’s stomach feel like it was full of butterflies, and made his voice come out a little breathless when he said, “Don’t call me that.”
Charlie had always felt a little thrill of excitement when Don had turned the full force of that smile on him. Or when he’d made Charlie the focus of his attention, even when he’d put him in a headlock and given him a noogie, or wrestled him to the floor and tickled him out of the remote. It was only now, after a few years at Princeton had given him a newfound self-confidence to go along with his air of distraction—which, it turned out, had made him more attractive to the opposite sex, and a few of the same—that he understood what that tickle low in his belly meant.
He’d been nineteen when he’d realized that Don felt it, too.
Don had been with the Stockton Rangers for two years and Charlie had gotten his Masters and had currently been working on his PhD. He’d gone to as many of Don’s games as he could, and often spent the night on the couch in Don’s small apartment.
After one particular game, one of Don’s teammates, Matt, who was the same age as Charlie, had been asking him if he would be staying in town and if he wanted to do something that evening. Don, his hair wet from the shower, had appeared out of nowhere and draped his arm over Charlie’s shoulder. “We’ve got plans,” he’d told Matt, then dragged Charlie off to the used Mustang he’d bought to replace the VW when it had finally died.
“What are our plans?” Charlie had asked, a little distracted because Don hadn’t removed his arm.
Don had shrugged. “I figured we could order takeout and rent a movie.”
Flush with pleasure that Don had wanted to spend time with him, Charlie had felt the urge to laugh out loud and share his happiness with the world, but he hadn’t wanted Don to think he was laughing at him, so he’d just smiled, poked his elbow into Don’s side, and agreed that takeout and a movie sounded good. He hadn’t felt it necessary to remind Don that was the same thing they did every time Charlie stayed over, because he’d rather spend time with Don than anyone else, and it just didn’t matter to him what they did, but he hadn’t wanted Don getting complacent, so he’d called dibs on picking the movie. Don had retaliated with a noogie and the announcement that he’d get to pick the takeout.
Three beers later—one for Charlie over Don’s perfunctory protest, and two for Don—Charlie had leaned into Don like he used to do when they were kids, and, just as then, Don raised his arm and put it around Charlie’s shoulders. He’d snuggled in close, pressed his hand against Don’s chest. He’d found it difficult not to turn his hand over and twine his fingers with Don’s when Don had covered Charlie’s hand with his own, stroked his thumb over it.
When he’d finally built up the courage, he’d tilted his head back, looked up at Don who was looking back at him. Charlie saw it then, that recognition in Don’s eyes, before he’d blinked and shuttered it away. He hadn’t been sure what Don saw in his own eyes, but suspected that it was the same need.
“We can’t do this, Charlie,” Don had said.
“Why not?”
Don had just kissed the top of Charlie’s head and then locked himself inside his bedroom. Charlie still wasn’t sure if he’d been trying to keep Charlie out, or make sure he stayed in.
Charlie had gone back to LA the next morning and, while he still went to Don’s games, he never again spent the night. Before the end of the season, Don had been accepted to the FBI Academy. Two months after Don left LA, Charlie met Susan.
It was nearly two years after Don had returned to LA for their mother’s illness when Charlie realized that the undercurrents were still there.
They were playing basketball at one of the courts in the park with some of the guys from Don’s office. Don and Charlie were put on the same team until after the first game, when the others realized that being a genius didn’t preclude you from kicking ass on the basketball court, and insisted that Team Eppes, as they called them, be split up.
Charlie threw a smirk at Don and said, “Watch your back, bro.”
Don tossed one back, pointed a finger at him. “You’re mine, Chuck.”
And then the game was on.
Charlie couldn’t believe, after the first electric shock he’d received when he and Don had collided going for the ball, that he was able to continue to play up to his usual ability. Each press of hand, each block, each slide of sweat-slicked skin only made him more sensitive to the next. He saw that same look in Don’s eyes that he’d seen once before, all those years ago, and it scalded him.
Later, when Don dropped him off at home with an excuse for dad about why he couldn’t stay for supper, Charlie figured that they were going to have to pretend, once more, that those feelings didn’t exist, keep hiding this...whatever it was between them. He wondered if Don really believed that pushing his feelings down would actually make them go away. It had been over ten years, and while they both had tried to move on with their lives, the feelings were still there.
For a week Charlie didn’t hear from Don. He couldn’t have been more surprised when Don showed up the following Saturday just as he and his father were sitting down to eat breakfast. Don was dressed in a pair of cutoff sweat pants and a tank top. His sunglasses hung over the neck of his tank and he wore a backwards baseball cap on his head. He carried a basketball under his arm.
Charlie was rendered speechless by Don’s unexpected appearance, until Don stole a piece of toast off his plate. “Hey!” He reached for the slice in an attempt to snatch it back, but Don moved out of his reach, grinning, though his eyes held a hint of something deeper.
“Hey, Donny, what brings you over here so early on a Saturday morning?”
“My breakfast, apparently,” Charlie said, curling a protective arm round his plate and glaring at Don.
Don held the basketball out in the palm of one hand, the other busy with Charlie’s toast. “Charlie needs practice.”
Charlie fell for it, hook line and sinker, just like he always did with Don. “Me? I rock. I am a basketball god. I am, I am the king of basketball. If anyone needs practice around here, it’s you.” Charlie managed to shoot the words back at Don, keep the tone light, but inside he was tied in knots. He pushed himself to his feet. “You think you can take me?”
Don’s eyes darkened as he looked Charlie over, but he held his ground. “Easily.”
All Charlie’s blood rushed south. He wasn’t sure if he was reading Don right, and if he was, wasn’t certain what had changed Don’s mind. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He shoved his chair out of the way and headed for the stairs. “That’s blasphemy. I just need to put on a pair of shorts, and then I’ll show you who’s going down.”
Don choked, turned it into a cough. “Bring a change of clothes, you can shower at my place.”
Charlie stumbled up the stairs at the implication.
Don, the bastard, actually drove them to the park where they met up with the same bunch of guys they’d played basketball with last week. As if the last ten years wasn’t enough, for the next hour they pushed each other closer to the edge. Don’s hand pressing into Charlie’s lower back when he went up for a shot, the feel of Don’s shoulder sliding across his arm, leaving a trail of sweat behind, their chests crashing together as Charlie went up to block Don’s shot.
Charlie vibrated with need the entire drive back to Don’s apartment. He was so ready that, when Don pushed him back against the closed door, he immediately tilted his head up, lips parted for their first kiss.
Don’s lips touched his and his tongue swept into Charlie’s mouth.
Charlie could tell that Don wanted to be gentle, but had pushed himself past the point where he could control the need he’d denied for so long. Charlie thought that was only fair, since he’d also been forced to try to ignore the aching want he had for Don. He slid his hands around Don, one around his waist, the other curled over his shoulder, and tugged him closer. He opened his mouth wider and teased Don’s tongue with his own, urging him to deepen the kiss.
Charlie could feel the tremors as, even now, Don struggled with his restraint. He slid his hand down over Don’s ass and pulled him in until their groins met, and he felt it shatter as Don groaned into his mouth.
Don lifted his head and Charlie said, “Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Don.” He wanted that so much. His whole body ached for Don.
Don buried his face in Charlie’s neck, and he heard the unspoken, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” on Don’s lips.
“Quit thinking,” he said, ignoring Don’s snort as he rubbed himself against Don’s leg. “We’ve already wasted too much time, Donny, please. Please, fuck me.”
Don lifted his head and looked into Charlie’s eyes. “Charlie....”
“Don’t say it, Don. Don’t say it, because I-I don’t care. I don’t care. I want this. I want, uh, want you.”
Don’s hands framed his face, pushed his hair back. “Charlie, you don’t know....”
“I’m not a child anymore, Don. I wasn’t then, either, just, uh, just for the record. I knew what I wanted. And I-I still want it. Even after all these years. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you’re just as screwed up as I am,” Don said, and kissed him again.
“As long as we’re screwed up together,” Charlie said when Don let him up for air, his voice a little rough.
He shivered when Don pushed his t-shirt up, splayed his fingers over Charlie’s stomach, the touch burning, even against his overheated skin. He moaned when Don licked at his neck as he slid his hand up Charlie’s torso, gasped when Don’s fingers teased his nipple.
“Like that?” Don asked, his breath tickling over Charlie’s ear.
Charlie tried to answer, but he knew he’d failed to say anything coherent when Don just laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said as he stroked his thumb over the nub until it was a hard peak and Charlie was panting for air, his fingers digging into Don’s back as he tried to keep from flying away.
Don lifted his shirt and Charlie obediently raised his arms so he could pull it over his head. Don licked and sucked at the same nipple he’d teased to a hard nub.
Charlie slid his hands up the back of Don’s neck, through the sweat dampened hair that curled there, and dislodged the baseball cap so he could bury his fingers in it.
Don raised his head and Charlie gasped, “Don’t stop,” then groaned when Don latched onto his other nipple. Don brought his head back up and kissed him.
Charlie kissed back, trying to pour all of his feelings into the kiss. He nearly bit Don’s tongue when Don closed his hand around him through his shorts, squeezed a little.
“You still want me to fuck you?”
Charlie’s entire body tightened in anticipation. “Yes. Please, yes.”
Don led him to the bedroom, steadying him when he stumbled over the bag he’d dropped before his back had even touched the door. Before they made it through the bedroom door, Don was already pushing Charlie’s shorts down while Charlie tried to get Don’s tank top off.
Don eventually persevered and pushed Charlie down onto the bed so he could pull shorts, socks and sneakers off and dump them onto the floor. For a moment, he just stood there staring at Charlie, then reached out and ran his hand up the inside of Charlie’s thigh.
Charlie’s muscles quivered at the touch. “Don, please.”
Don lifted the tank over his head and Charlie couldn’t resist raising himself up onto his elbow and reaching out with one hand to touch his chest. He combed his fingers through the soft hair, then dragged them down the trail that began at his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.
Don pushed his shorts down. Freed from the confines of his shorts, Don’s cock bounced up and slapped against Charlie’s wrist, leaving a streak of pre-come.
Charlie brought his wrist to his mouth and licked it, savored this first taste of Don.
Don, in the process of kicking his sneaker off, groaned and climbed onto the bed between Charlie’s legs, shorts still trapped around his ankles. He leaned down and kissed him, eagerly lapped at his mouth as if he was trying to get up every last trace of himself so he could get to Charlie.
Don reached beneath Charlie and cupped his ass as he lowered himself until his cock pressed into Charlie’s groin. Don pushed against him, and Charlie’s cock slid through the coarse hair at the base of Don’s cock.
“Oh, god, Don.”
“Sorry, Charlie, sorry, can’t.... Too close.”
Charlie wrapped his arms around Don, braced his feet on the bed, and thrust up as Don ground down.
Don was braced on his elbows, but even so, Charlie could feel his arms shake with the effort. He slid his hand down Don’s back, slipping easily through the sheen of sweat, pressed his fingers against Don’s lower back.
“Come on, Don,” Charlie urged, pushing up against him as Don drove into him.
Don’s breath was hot and moist against the side of his face, his breathing loud and ragged. His own pulse pounded in his ear as he drew closer and closer to release, until the pressure built in his balls and his rhythm faltered.
“Don.”
His cock pulsed and warmth spread between them, Don’s breath hitched in his ear. He sped up his thrusts, then grunted into Charlie’s neck and slammed hard against him before more warmth seeped between them.
Don slumped against him, then rolled off with a groan to lay on his back beside Charlie. He toed his remaining sneaker off, then pulled his feet out of his shorts and briefs, let them fall to the floor. They rested in silence, the only sound their harsh breaths as they slowed. When the silence went on too long, grew too deep, Charlie rolled to his side and glared at Don.
“Stop it.”
Don shot him a guilty look.
“You have to trust me.”
Don’s eyes narrowed with frustration, and not a little annoyance. “I do trust you, Charlie. I trust you everyday....”
“Not with numbers, with us.” Charlie ran his fingers through the come spattered across Don’s chest. “You can trust me, you should trust me, to know what I’m doing. To know what I need, what I want.”
Don stared at him for a long time, into his eyes, then finally the guilt began to fade from his own. “So what do you want?”
Charlie inspected the symbols he’d drawn on Don’s skin, then lifted his hand to his mouth, stuck one finger between his lips and sucked it clean. He grinned at the heat that flared in Don’s eyes. “Besides you, you mean?”
At Don’s distracted nod, he said, “Well, I could use a shower.” He slid over Don until they lay chest to chest, their come slippery between them. “As could you.” He gave a little shimmy to emphasize his point. “And you should eat something.” He kissed the tip of Don’s nose. “Keep up your strength.” He nibbled on Don’s lips. “I think you’ll find that I’m a very...,” he paused to suck on Don’s tongue. “...voracious....” He sucked Don’s lip, letting it go with a pop. “...lover.”
Laughing at Don’s glazed expression and the semi-hard cock pressing against his belly, Charlie started to roll off of Don, and the bed, intent on that shower. Don had other plans, however. He rolled with Charlie until he was on top of him and had him pinned to the mattress, his erection digging into Charlie’s hip. He kissed Charlie until they were both breathless.
“I can’t believe I’m getting hard again.”
“All part of my evil plan,” Charlie said.
“You must be desperate to be fucked,” Don teased against Charlie’s neck as he sucked and nibbled the skin there.
“Actually,” Charlie said, feigning a calm he didn’t feel, “I was thinking about getting on my knees and sucking you off in the shower.”
Don’s hips moved against him. “Christ, Charlie. Does that mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”
With Don distracted, Charlie was able to free his arms, and he wrapped them around Don, holding him close. “Of course I want you to fuck me, but I thought you could use some work on your stamina.” He grinned at Don’s huff of annoyance, stroked his hands up and down Don’s back. “I don’t want you going off like a bottle rocket the second you slide inside my hot, tight ass.”
Don groaned and laughed against Charlie’s neck. “Got a pretty high opinion of yourself, don’t you, buddy?”
“Maybe,” Charlie said. “You can tell me later, after I suck your brains out your dick, and after you feed me a dinner high in carbs, whether it’s unearned, okay?”
Don cupped Charlie’s face. “Okay,” he said, and kissed him until Charlie thrust his hips, desperate for friction. Don rolled off, leaving Charlie to stare at the flexing muscles in his bare ass as he walked across the bedroom. “Let’s get that shower now,” he said, pausing to pose against the doorframe, one hand sliding along his length.
The sight made Charlie’s mouth water. He pushed himself off the bed and staggered to the doorway Don had disappeared through. He heard the water come on before he reached the door, stood staring at Don as he leaned over the tub to check the temperature, then turned the shower on.
When Don turned back to him, he was still hard, but his expression was serious again. Charlie went to him, placed his fingers over Don’s lips when he opened them to speak.
“Shower first, then we’ll talk. Then you’re taking Dad and me out to eat, and then you’re bringing me back here so you can fuck me. Promise.”
Charlie could see Don’s throat work as he swallowed.
“Promise.”
“I promise,” Don said, and Charlie wrapped him in a hug.
“You can’t stop now,” he whispered. “You’ve already taken the hardest step.”
“What’s that?”
“Admitting that these feelings are real,” Charlie said, and pulled Don into the shower, where he intended to give him every reason to stay on the path they’d started down.
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Date: 2006-07-23 03:07 am (UTC)Don’s eyes narrowed with frustration, and not a little annoyance. “I do trust you, Charlie. I trust you everyday....”
“Not with numbers, with us.” Charlie ran his fingers through the come spattered across Don’s chest. “You can trust me, you should trust me, to know what I’m doing. To know what I need, what I want.”
Charlie,asking Don for a visceral reaction? Refreshing. I like this a lot. It has the angst that starts early and carrys throughout their early adult years.
It always, always rings so true to me that Don would be the one who had the hardest time taking the step into the incestuous relationship.
Charlie, for all of his "book smarts" doesn't seem to have the same hang-ups.
JMO
Thanks for a great story with hot sexx!
T
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Date: 2006-07-23 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 05:13 am (UTC)I... just... *wibble*
Oh, Spikey, you killed me ded. This is going in the Memories.
...
*wibble*
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Date: 2006-07-23 12:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 08:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 12:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-11 11:06 pm (UTC)This is incredibly hot. Way to go spikedluv!
*adds to memories*
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Date: 2006-08-12 01:27 pm (UTC)Thank you! I'm pleased you thought it was hot, and that you enjoyed it enough to add to memories. *bg*
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Date: 2007-05-06 04:36 am (UTC)Eating popcorn and reading slash...two things that should not be done together. This is a lesson I have learned...I just about choked when I read that line ;) This was fantastic...slash, shower sex, don/charlie...*is dead*
Loved this, love you for writing this! Also adding to memories...this is one of those fics I'm going to want to go back and read again!
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Date: 2007-05-06 01:10 pm (UTC)