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Title: Not Begging
Pairing/Characters: Don/Howard
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 900 words
Spoilers: Through mid-season three.
Summary: Don refuses to beg. Until he does.
Notes/Warning: PWP; shower smut. Takes place between Want Not and Left Wanting.
Written: April 12, 2007
The first time Don spent the night at Howard’s apartment, Howard was already showered and dressed by the time Don rolled out of bed. Don pulled on his boxers and padded out to the kitchen, following the scent of coffee. Howard looked up from his paper, but to his credit didn’t so much as smirk at Don’s bed head, or the way he whimpered at the first sip of coffee.
The second time he spent the night, the ringing phone woke them both before the alarm went off. While Howard was talking, voice low in deference to Don, and rough from lack of sleep, Don sat up and kissed his shoulder - which garnered him a smile as Howard searched through the empty tubes of lube and ripped condom wrappers covering the bedside table for a pen - then got up and went into the bathroom. Five minutes later, Howard joined him in the shower.
They’d never done this before, so Don wasn’t sure if Howard had joined him because he was in hurry to get into the office, or because he wasn’t. “You need to get in?”
“It can wait,” Howard said. He took the washcloth out of Don’s hand. “Let me get your back.”
Howard got his back. And his ass. Carefully stroking the cloth along his crack, between his legs, until Don spread them to give Howard better access to his balls. Howard turned him, thoroughly cleaned his cock as he ran his other hand over Don’s back, chasing away soapsuds. He slid the cloth up Don’s chest, over his nipples, rubbing them until they were hard and so sensitive that just the thought of being touched sent little jolts of pleasure-pain down to his groin.
Howard dropped the cloth, turned Don back around, pushed him towards the tiled wall. Don braced himself on his hands, spread his legs to balance himself, and waited, anticipation rising the longer Howard just stood there, watching him.
“You’re amazing,” Howard said, and Don jumped when Howard finally touched him, gently spread Don’s cheeks with his thumbs so that the spray landing on his shoulders and flowing down his back ran into the crack of his ass and over his eager entrance.
“Howard.” It wasn’t begging, no matter what Howard said later, but Don ignored Howard’s knowing, “Need something, Eppes?” in favor of breathing when Howard knelt behind him and touched him with his tongue. It was all Don could do to keep himself from falling to the floor of the tub as Howard licked and sucked on him, then fucked him with his tongue.
Don reached back, ran his hand over Howard’s head as Howard ate him out. Howard pulled away from Don and turned his face into Don’s hand, kissed his palm as he pushed one finger into Don’s ass.
“Oh, god,” he said, still not begging, when Howard added a second finger.
His hand fell off Howard’s head when Howard stood, both fingers still fucking Don, finding his happy spot and pressing it again and again as he kissed Don’s shoulder, until Don had to close his eyes and run baseball stats to keep from coming.
Don reached for himself, but Howard’s hand was there first, intercepting Don’s, placing it back against the tile, holding it there. Howard’s fingers touched that spot again, but all Don could feel were Howard’s fingers wrapped in a hard band around his wrist, his teeth set against Don’s shoulder, leaving a mark Don would feel for days.
“Howard . . . please . . . .”
Howard pulled his fingers out and Don felt the blunt head of Howard’s cock pressing against his ass, preparing to take their place. He bent his knees and pushed back, felt Howard’s fingers close hard enough on his hip to leave bruises as he slid all the way in, heard the gasped, “Jesus, Don.”
Howard pulled out and pushed back in slowly, kept his hand on Don’s hip to prevent him from speeding things up. Don tensed, prepared to move his free hand away from the wall, but Howard actually growled. “Keep both hands on the wall, Eppes.”
Another thing Don would never admit was how much that turned him on. Instead, he said, “Then get moving, Meeks!” and tried to wiggle his ass.
“Beg me,” Howard said.
“No fucking way.” But Howard was evil and had the stamina of . . . something with a lot of stamina. He fucked Don slow and easy, as if he had all the time in the world, the slow glide of his cock over Don’s sweet spot torture. Don finally broke, as he’d known he would. “God! Howard, would you just . . . please!”
Another slow glide with an added twist. “Please what?”
“Fuck me!”
Howard pulled back and drove into him. “All you had to do was ask.” And again, breath hot against Don’s neck, skin sticking together as he pounded into him.
Don would have swore at him, but it was all he could do to hang on and keep himself on his feet as Howard finally gave him what he wanted, what he needed. “Yes, yes, please, just like that.” Once the dam of words was broken, Don couldn’t shut up. Each thrust brought forth another rush of words, and the last thing Don remembered thinking just before he shot his brains out his dick was, thank goodness Howard hadn’t been in a hurry to get to the office.
The End
Pairing/Characters: Don/Howard
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 900 words
Spoilers: Through mid-season three.
Summary: Don refuses to beg. Until he does.
Notes/Warning: PWP; shower smut. Takes place between Want Not and Left Wanting.
Written: April 12, 2007
The first time Don spent the night at Howard’s apartment, Howard was already showered and dressed by the time Don rolled out of bed. Don pulled on his boxers and padded out to the kitchen, following the scent of coffee. Howard looked up from his paper, but to his credit didn’t so much as smirk at Don’s bed head, or the way he whimpered at the first sip of coffee.
The second time he spent the night, the ringing phone woke them both before the alarm went off. While Howard was talking, voice low in deference to Don, and rough from lack of sleep, Don sat up and kissed his shoulder - which garnered him a smile as Howard searched through the empty tubes of lube and ripped condom wrappers covering the bedside table for a pen - then got up and went into the bathroom. Five minutes later, Howard joined him in the shower.
They’d never done this before, so Don wasn’t sure if Howard had joined him because he was in hurry to get into the office, or because he wasn’t. “You need to get in?”
“It can wait,” Howard said. He took the washcloth out of Don’s hand. “Let me get your back.”
Howard got his back. And his ass. Carefully stroking the cloth along his crack, between his legs, until Don spread them to give Howard better access to his balls. Howard turned him, thoroughly cleaned his cock as he ran his other hand over Don’s back, chasing away soapsuds. He slid the cloth up Don’s chest, over his nipples, rubbing them until they were hard and so sensitive that just the thought of being touched sent little jolts of pleasure-pain down to his groin.
Howard dropped the cloth, turned Don back around, pushed him towards the tiled wall. Don braced himself on his hands, spread his legs to balance himself, and waited, anticipation rising the longer Howard just stood there, watching him.
“You’re amazing,” Howard said, and Don jumped when Howard finally touched him, gently spread Don’s cheeks with his thumbs so that the spray landing on his shoulders and flowing down his back ran into the crack of his ass and over his eager entrance.
“Howard.” It wasn’t begging, no matter what Howard said later, but Don ignored Howard’s knowing, “Need something, Eppes?” in favor of breathing when Howard knelt behind him and touched him with his tongue. It was all Don could do to keep himself from falling to the floor of the tub as Howard licked and sucked on him, then fucked him with his tongue.
Don reached back, ran his hand over Howard’s head as Howard ate him out. Howard pulled away from Don and turned his face into Don’s hand, kissed his palm as he pushed one finger into Don’s ass.
“Oh, god,” he said, still not begging, when Howard added a second finger.
His hand fell off Howard’s head when Howard stood, both fingers still fucking Don, finding his happy spot and pressing it again and again as he kissed Don’s shoulder, until Don had to close his eyes and run baseball stats to keep from coming.
Don reached for himself, but Howard’s hand was there first, intercepting Don’s, placing it back against the tile, holding it there. Howard’s fingers touched that spot again, but all Don could feel were Howard’s fingers wrapped in a hard band around his wrist, his teeth set against Don’s shoulder, leaving a mark Don would feel for days.
“Howard . . . please . . . .”
Howard pulled his fingers out and Don felt the blunt head of Howard’s cock pressing against his ass, preparing to take their place. He bent his knees and pushed back, felt Howard’s fingers close hard enough on his hip to leave bruises as he slid all the way in, heard the gasped, “Jesus, Don.”
Howard pulled out and pushed back in slowly, kept his hand on Don’s hip to prevent him from speeding things up. Don tensed, prepared to move his free hand away from the wall, but Howard actually growled. “Keep both hands on the wall, Eppes.”
Another thing Don would never admit was how much that turned him on. Instead, he said, “Then get moving, Meeks!” and tried to wiggle his ass.
“Beg me,” Howard said.
“No fucking way.” But Howard was evil and had the stamina of . . . something with a lot of stamina. He fucked Don slow and easy, as if he had all the time in the world, the slow glide of his cock over Don’s sweet spot torture. Don finally broke, as he’d known he would. “God! Howard, would you just . . . please!”
Another slow glide with an added twist. “Please what?”
“Fuck me!”
Howard pulled back and drove into him. “All you had to do was ask.” And again, breath hot against Don’s neck, skin sticking together as he pounded into him.
Don would have swore at him, but it was all he could do to hang on and keep himself on his feet as Howard finally gave him what he wanted, what he needed. “Yes, yes, please, just like that.” Once the dam of words was broken, Don couldn’t shut up. Each thrust brought forth another rush of words, and the last thing Don remembered thinking just before he shot his brains out his dick was, thank goodness Howard hadn’t been in a hurry to get to the office.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-12 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 05:04 am (UTC)I LOVE you with a fiery passion for giving me more Don/Howard with Dononthebottomomg!
This made my week ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 11:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-15 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-14 09:58 pm (UTC)This also makes me want to read more Howard in general. I would much rather see more of him on the show vs Millie who IMHO keeps ruining our nice end of show Eppes family moments by invading the men's sacred space. Ugh.
Keep up the good Howard!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-15 12:54 am (UTC)As for Howard, I figure that, being a tough prosecuting attorney, he can't just be a wimp, he's gotta have some backbone, but I must say I'm glad we haven't seen a whole lot of Howard, 'cause that gives me some room to explore him myself. *g*
Oh, yeah, I'd trade some Millie-time for some Howard-time!
Thank you, I will. One day. I have another idea, but it is often weeks, if not months, between formation of the idea, and actually getting it down on paper. *g*