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numb3rsflashficTitle: Star of David
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 1990 words
Spoilers: None.
Summary: And just like one of Pavlov’s dogs, Charlie reacted to the sight of the chain, anticipating.
Notes/Warning: Possible misuse of a religious symbol. *g*
Written: April 27, 2007
Don slipped the Star of David over his head, made sure it was resting outside his t-shirt, clearly visible. His family had never been particularly religious when he was growing up, but his mother had given it to him before he’d left for Washington and he’d carried it with him wherever he’d been assigned. Don had rarely worn it, left it in the box, resting on white cotton and covered with tissue paper, and only taken it out whenever he was feeling particularly homesick. Sometimes he’d just look at it, stroke the gold points of the star, and think about his family; other times he’d draw the chain over his head and fall asleep wearing it, holding his family close to his heart.
Don hadn’t thought much about the Star since he’d moved back to LA. At least, not until that night a couple months ago when he’d come face to face with his worst nightmare. Now he carried it with him always, just in case. From within the same duffel from which he’d retrieved the Star of David, Don withdrew two stakes, then zipped it shut and dropped it onto the floor behind the passenger seat. He still carried his gun because he’d grown accustomed to the feel of it, felt naked without it, but Don knew it would do no good against these monsters.
Don called up to Charlie to find out how long he’d be. Charlie said he’d be ready in twenty minutes, and Don told him he’d be waiting. Sometimes Charlie was in the middle of something and Don had an hour or two to kill; on those nights he widened his patrol area to fit in as much of the campus as he could. Tonight he only had time to patrol the area immediately around the math building -- the lawn where he and Charlie played frisbee on occasion, and the parking lots, the dark corners of which were prime target areas, he’d discovered.
Don tucked one stake into the back of his jeans, the other up the sleeve of his leather jacket, and began his patrol. He walked around the building, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, peering into the shadows, listening for sounds that didn’t belong. When he passed a light pole, Don made sure to keep his eyes turned away so as not to completely ruin his night vision.
By the time he’d made it around the building and checked out the farthest corners of both parking lots, Charlie was waiting for him by the SUV. Don tucked the Star of David beneath his t-shirt, then used the remote to unlock the doors. Despite the two tiny beeps that Don could hear across the parking lot, Charlie didn’t look away from Don’s approach.
“Hey.” Don broke the silence.
Charlie stepped away from the Suburban and met him, reached up and traced his finger along the gold chain that encircled Don’s neck. “Hey.” His voice was soft, a little bit breathless.
“Charlie.” Even when he hadn’t found anything that needed staking, Don’s adrenaline was high after a patrol. Just getting ready to go into a combat situation, what could turn into a life or death struggle for survival, got the juices pumping.
Charlie still didn’t know what Don did while he waited for Charlie to meet him, but he knew that it had something to do with the Star of David Don wore on those occasions. Charlie also knew that on those nights the sex was harder, faster. A little bit rougher. And just like one of Pavlov’s dogs, Charlie reacted to the sight of the chain, anticipating.
Charlie looked into Don’s eyes as he dragged his finger down the chain, over his t-shirt, until his fingers were tracing the star beneath the cotton, pressing it into Don’s chest. Don’s breath caught at the heat in Charlie’s eyes, and his nipples hardened, sensitive against the cotton. Charlie didn’t look away, yet somehow he knew. He slipped his hand beneath Don’s jacket and stroked his thumb over one hardened nipple.
Don grabbed Charlie’s hand. “Stop.” He brought Charlie’s wrist to his mouth, kissed the hammering pulse point, then licked it. “Unless you want to do this here.”
Charlie’s breath wheezed out of him and he moaned a little bit, and Don could tell from the look on his face that he’d let Don do anything to him, right here, no matter who could see. And if it weren’t for the fact that Don now knew what went bump in the night, he’d have been tempted to do it, take Charlie right there, fuck him until he was crying out Don’s name and clawing at the black paint on the SUV, leaving scratches that only Don would know were there, that he could rub his hand over and remember Charlie tight around him, pushing back, begging.
His jeans were uncomfortable and the ride home was going to be hell, but Don got Charlie bundled into the SUV, the stakes hidden away in the duffel while Charlie was still fumbling with the seatbelt.
The ride to Don’s apartment was silent, except for the rasp of skin against denim as Charlie rubbed his hands on his jeans, up and down his thighs, as much a nervous tic as a means of preventing Charlie from just reaching for Don. He pulled to a stop at a light and Don took one of Charlie’s hands in his, turned it so he could rub his thumb over the palm.
Charlie went boneless, sighed, “Don.”
The SUV started forward again, and Don asked, “Is this okay, Charlie?” Sometimes he worried that he might hurt Charlie, despite the fact that every time Charlie had been right there with him. “You want this?”
“Don, yes.” Charlie slumped in the seat even more, and his breath sped up. He’d stopped rubbing his hand against his thigh and was now squeezing his leg, as if it was the only thing holding him back.
“Let me see, Charlie, let me see.” Don placed Charlie’s hand on his own thigh and reached out. He cupped Charlie’s hardness through the denim and Charlie’s legs fell apart, his head lolled against the window. Then Charlie shifted so his body was turned toward Don. He slid down in the seat a little bit more, spread his legs farther, pushed up into Don’s hand.
Don kept his hand there the rest of the ride home, just holding Charlie. Once in a while he’d press harder with the heel of his hand, give Charlie a little squeeze. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing over at Charlie every few seconds. He looked so wanton, sprawled out like that. Curls falling in his face, eyes nearly closed, teeth biting into his bottom lip. Charlie moaned when Don’s thumb found the head of his cock and rubbed, then he opened his eyes and stared at Don as he flicked his tongue over parted lips.
The only thing that kept Don from pulling over and taking Charlie right there, despite the well-lit streets and frequent patrols, was the fact that they were less than two minutes from Don’s apartment. That two minutes seemed like an eternity.
Don tried to calm himself during the walk up to his apartment, but Charlie refused to give him enough space to. He bumped Don’s shoulder as they crossed the parking lot, stood close in the elevator, pressed up against his back while he was unlocking the door, his breath tickling Don’s neck, his hand hot against Don’s hip.
Before the door was closed Don had Charlie pushed up against it, their bodies flush, lips pressed together in a bruising kiss. Charlie wriggled and squirmed against him. Don felt the brush of cool air as his pants were undone and shoved aside, and then the heat of Charlie’s fingers wrapped around him.
“Now, Don, now,” Charlie whispered.
No matter how desperate they both were, Don wasn’t going to take Charlie without preparation, and he didn’t have any lube in the hallway. The idea of keeping a tube above the doorframe, like most people kept an extra key, made him chuckle.
“What?”
Charlie’s eyes were wide and unfocused, and Don just shook his head and dragged Charlie through the apartment, their bodies still pressed together. Somehow they both lost their jackets and shirts in the living room, kicked off their shoes just inside the door to bedroom. It took longer because Don didn’t want to let go of Charlie.
Don pushed Charlie onto the bed, stripped him of jeans and boxers and socks, and then took a moment to just look at him. Charlie, naked and spread out on his bed, was a sight that Don would never get tired of. He just stood there, soaking him in, until Charlie whined and reached out for him.
Don removed the rest of his clothes in record time, but when he started to lift the Star of David over his head, Charlie said, “No, leave it.”
He almost pulled the drawer out too far and dumped it on the floor in his hurry to get lube and condom. Charlie was still wiggling his fingers in a ‘come on, hurry up’ gesture. Charlie spread his legs as Don climbed onto the bed, and he crawled between them. Don fumbled with the cap, then squeezed so much slick onto his fingers that it dripped off onto Charlie’s skin, already covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
Don closed his eyes against the intense need building inside him. “Charlie.”
“Do it.” Charlie’s voice was fierce, his need just as great. “Please, Don.”
Don pressed two fingers inside Charlie, who closed his eyes, made a little keening sound, and pushed down, started fucking himself on Don’s fingers. As if Don wasn’t already close enough, the sight of Charlie so desperate with arousal was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He reached for the condom with shaking fingers, tore the wrapper with his teeth, never taking his eyes off Charlie. He wanted to see Charlie’s face as Don twisted his fingers, thrust them in and out, wanted to feel him writhe and hear him moan as Don nudged Charlie’s sweet spot again and again.
One-handed, Don rolled the condom on, then gently withdrew his fingers from Charlie’s body. He ignored the groan of protest and squeezed a liberal amount of lube onto his cock. Don smoothed it out, then guided himself to the entrance to Charlie’s body. Charlie lifted his legs, rested one against Don’s arm, curled the other around his back.
Charlie’s fingers were hot against Don’s neck as he traced the chain. “Come on, Donny.” He tugged on the chain until it dug into Don’s skin, only easing up when Don lowered his head and kissed him. “Fuck me now,” Charlie whispered against Don’s lips.
Don pushed in all the way, felt the moan vibrate through Charlie’s body. He buried his face in Charlie’s neck, breathing hard as he tried to control himself. He lifted up just enough to give himself leverage and moved his hips, watched the Star of David dance against Charlie’s chest as Don thrust into him.
Charlie’s legs tightened around him, tried to pull him in deeper. His hands never stopped moving, fingers sliding through Don’s hair, over his shoulders, down his back, tangling in the chain. His broken whispers -- yeah, just . . . right there . . . harderharderharder -- burrowed beneath Don’s skin and into his skull until all he could think about was moremoremore.
Charlie arched beneath him and cried out, hot come splashing between them. Charlie twisted the chain around his fist and tugged until the burn of it matched the burning need building at the base of Don’s spine. One last thrust and Don hurtled over the edge in an uncontrolled fall that ended only when he landed in the safety of Charlie’s arms.
The End
Pairing/Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating/Category: NC17/Slash
Word Count: 1990 words
Spoilers: None.
Summary: And just like one of Pavlov’s dogs, Charlie reacted to the sight of the chain, anticipating.
Notes/Warning: Possible misuse of a religious symbol. *g*
Written: April 27, 2007
Don slipped the Star of David over his head, made sure it was resting outside his t-shirt, clearly visible. His family had never been particularly religious when he was growing up, but his mother had given it to him before he’d left for Washington and he’d carried it with him wherever he’d been assigned. Don had rarely worn it, left it in the box, resting on white cotton and covered with tissue paper, and only taken it out whenever he was feeling particularly homesick. Sometimes he’d just look at it, stroke the gold points of the star, and think about his family; other times he’d draw the chain over his head and fall asleep wearing it, holding his family close to his heart.
Don hadn’t thought much about the Star since he’d moved back to LA. At least, not until that night a couple months ago when he’d come face to face with his worst nightmare. Now he carried it with him always, just in case. From within the same duffel from which he’d retrieved the Star of David, Don withdrew two stakes, then zipped it shut and dropped it onto the floor behind the passenger seat. He still carried his gun because he’d grown accustomed to the feel of it, felt naked without it, but Don knew it would do no good against these monsters.
Don called up to Charlie to find out how long he’d be. Charlie said he’d be ready in twenty minutes, and Don told him he’d be waiting. Sometimes Charlie was in the middle of something and Don had an hour or two to kill; on those nights he widened his patrol area to fit in as much of the campus as he could. Tonight he only had time to patrol the area immediately around the math building -- the lawn where he and Charlie played frisbee on occasion, and the parking lots, the dark corners of which were prime target areas, he’d discovered.
Don tucked one stake into the back of his jeans, the other up the sleeve of his leather jacket, and began his patrol. He walked around the building, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, peering into the shadows, listening for sounds that didn’t belong. When he passed a light pole, Don made sure to keep his eyes turned away so as not to completely ruin his night vision.
By the time he’d made it around the building and checked out the farthest corners of both parking lots, Charlie was waiting for him by the SUV. Don tucked the Star of David beneath his t-shirt, then used the remote to unlock the doors. Despite the two tiny beeps that Don could hear across the parking lot, Charlie didn’t look away from Don’s approach.
“Hey.” Don broke the silence.
Charlie stepped away from the Suburban and met him, reached up and traced his finger along the gold chain that encircled Don’s neck. “Hey.” His voice was soft, a little bit breathless.
“Charlie.” Even when he hadn’t found anything that needed staking, Don’s adrenaline was high after a patrol. Just getting ready to go into a combat situation, what could turn into a life or death struggle for survival, got the juices pumping.
Charlie still didn’t know what Don did while he waited for Charlie to meet him, but he knew that it had something to do with the Star of David Don wore on those occasions. Charlie also knew that on those nights the sex was harder, faster. A little bit rougher. And just like one of Pavlov’s dogs, Charlie reacted to the sight of the chain, anticipating.
Charlie looked into Don’s eyes as he dragged his finger down the chain, over his t-shirt, until his fingers were tracing the star beneath the cotton, pressing it into Don’s chest. Don’s breath caught at the heat in Charlie’s eyes, and his nipples hardened, sensitive against the cotton. Charlie didn’t look away, yet somehow he knew. He slipped his hand beneath Don’s jacket and stroked his thumb over one hardened nipple.
Don grabbed Charlie’s hand. “Stop.” He brought Charlie’s wrist to his mouth, kissed the hammering pulse point, then licked it. “Unless you want to do this here.”
Charlie’s breath wheezed out of him and he moaned a little bit, and Don could tell from the look on his face that he’d let Don do anything to him, right here, no matter who could see. And if it weren’t for the fact that Don now knew what went bump in the night, he’d have been tempted to do it, take Charlie right there, fuck him until he was crying out Don’s name and clawing at the black paint on the SUV, leaving scratches that only Don would know were there, that he could rub his hand over and remember Charlie tight around him, pushing back, begging.
His jeans were uncomfortable and the ride home was going to be hell, but Don got Charlie bundled into the SUV, the stakes hidden away in the duffel while Charlie was still fumbling with the seatbelt.
The ride to Don’s apartment was silent, except for the rasp of skin against denim as Charlie rubbed his hands on his jeans, up and down his thighs, as much a nervous tic as a means of preventing Charlie from just reaching for Don. He pulled to a stop at a light and Don took one of Charlie’s hands in his, turned it so he could rub his thumb over the palm.
Charlie went boneless, sighed, “Don.”
The SUV started forward again, and Don asked, “Is this okay, Charlie?” Sometimes he worried that he might hurt Charlie, despite the fact that every time Charlie had been right there with him. “You want this?”
“Don, yes.” Charlie slumped in the seat even more, and his breath sped up. He’d stopped rubbing his hand against his thigh and was now squeezing his leg, as if it was the only thing holding him back.
“Let me see, Charlie, let me see.” Don placed Charlie’s hand on his own thigh and reached out. He cupped Charlie’s hardness through the denim and Charlie’s legs fell apart, his head lolled against the window. Then Charlie shifted so his body was turned toward Don. He slid down in the seat a little bit more, spread his legs farther, pushed up into Don’s hand.
Don kept his hand there the rest of the ride home, just holding Charlie. Once in a while he’d press harder with the heel of his hand, give Charlie a little squeeze. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing over at Charlie every few seconds. He looked so wanton, sprawled out like that. Curls falling in his face, eyes nearly closed, teeth biting into his bottom lip. Charlie moaned when Don’s thumb found the head of his cock and rubbed, then he opened his eyes and stared at Don as he flicked his tongue over parted lips.
The only thing that kept Don from pulling over and taking Charlie right there, despite the well-lit streets and frequent patrols, was the fact that they were less than two minutes from Don’s apartment. That two minutes seemed like an eternity.
Don tried to calm himself during the walk up to his apartment, but Charlie refused to give him enough space to. He bumped Don’s shoulder as they crossed the parking lot, stood close in the elevator, pressed up against his back while he was unlocking the door, his breath tickling Don’s neck, his hand hot against Don’s hip.
Before the door was closed Don had Charlie pushed up against it, their bodies flush, lips pressed together in a bruising kiss. Charlie wriggled and squirmed against him. Don felt the brush of cool air as his pants were undone and shoved aside, and then the heat of Charlie’s fingers wrapped around him.
“Now, Don, now,” Charlie whispered.
No matter how desperate they both were, Don wasn’t going to take Charlie without preparation, and he didn’t have any lube in the hallway. The idea of keeping a tube above the doorframe, like most people kept an extra key, made him chuckle.
“What?”
Charlie’s eyes were wide and unfocused, and Don just shook his head and dragged Charlie through the apartment, their bodies still pressed together. Somehow they both lost their jackets and shirts in the living room, kicked off their shoes just inside the door to bedroom. It took longer because Don didn’t want to let go of Charlie.
Don pushed Charlie onto the bed, stripped him of jeans and boxers and socks, and then took a moment to just look at him. Charlie, naked and spread out on his bed, was a sight that Don would never get tired of. He just stood there, soaking him in, until Charlie whined and reached out for him.
Don removed the rest of his clothes in record time, but when he started to lift the Star of David over his head, Charlie said, “No, leave it.”
He almost pulled the drawer out too far and dumped it on the floor in his hurry to get lube and condom. Charlie was still wiggling his fingers in a ‘come on, hurry up’ gesture. Charlie spread his legs as Don climbed onto the bed, and he crawled between them. Don fumbled with the cap, then squeezed so much slick onto his fingers that it dripped off onto Charlie’s skin, already covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
Don closed his eyes against the intense need building inside him. “Charlie.”
“Do it.” Charlie’s voice was fierce, his need just as great. “Please, Don.”
Don pressed two fingers inside Charlie, who closed his eyes, made a little keening sound, and pushed down, started fucking himself on Don’s fingers. As if Don wasn’t already close enough, the sight of Charlie so desperate with arousal was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He reached for the condom with shaking fingers, tore the wrapper with his teeth, never taking his eyes off Charlie. He wanted to see Charlie’s face as Don twisted his fingers, thrust them in and out, wanted to feel him writhe and hear him moan as Don nudged Charlie’s sweet spot again and again.
One-handed, Don rolled the condom on, then gently withdrew his fingers from Charlie’s body. He ignored the groan of protest and squeezed a liberal amount of lube onto his cock. Don smoothed it out, then guided himself to the entrance to Charlie’s body. Charlie lifted his legs, rested one against Don’s arm, curled the other around his back.
Charlie’s fingers were hot against Don’s neck as he traced the chain. “Come on, Donny.” He tugged on the chain until it dug into Don’s skin, only easing up when Don lowered his head and kissed him. “Fuck me now,” Charlie whispered against Don’s lips.
Don pushed in all the way, felt the moan vibrate through Charlie’s body. He buried his face in Charlie’s neck, breathing hard as he tried to control himself. He lifted up just enough to give himself leverage and moved his hips, watched the Star of David dance against Charlie’s chest as Don thrust into him.
Charlie’s legs tightened around him, tried to pull him in deeper. His hands never stopped moving, fingers sliding through Don’s hair, over his shoulders, down his back, tangling in the chain. His broken whispers -- yeah, just . . . right there . . . harderharderharder -- burrowed beneath Don’s skin and into his skull until all he could think about was moremoremore.
Charlie arched beneath him and cried out, hot come splashing between them. Charlie twisted the chain around his fist and tugged until the burn of it matched the burning need building at the base of Don’s spine. One last thrust and Don hurtled over the edge in an uncontrolled fall that ended only when he landed in the safety of Charlie’s arms.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 03:42 pm (UTC)Wait, let me pick myself up off the floor and repeat myself.
Guh.
Two of my favorite things; it started off with a yum because of the vampires. Hello, yum.
I almost half expected Charlie to turn to Don with fangs and I didn't know if that would have been a good thing or a bad thing. I'm glad he didn't.
But if you ever decided he should, I'd still read it. ;)
PS: GUH.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 05:05 pm (UTC)Me too! But I'm glad he didn't.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 05:18 pm (UTC)That's not to say I wouldn't have gotten a whole 'nother sort of excitement from that, though. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 05:42 pm (UTC)Oh yeah. And I can just see Charlie, "I didn't know how to tell you."
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 06:25 pm (UTC)Those big eyes turned toward Don! "It doesn't change how I feel about you though."
The question is, would Don trust him anymore or not? Would he stake him or let him live? Put him on an Angel diet of pig's blood?
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:03 pm (UTC)Me either. And Don definitely would have noticed that before now.
The question is, would Don trust him anymore or not? Would he stake him or let him live? Put him on an Angel diet of pig's blood?
Love him, yes. Trust him....not so much. Or at least, not completely. I definitely don't think he'd stake him right away. Worse comes to worse I can see him locking him up somewhere until he figures out a way to at least mitigate the damage.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:08 pm (UTC)I think that would depend too, on how long Charlie had been vamped. If he'd been one for two weeks and they'd spent time together, Don knows that Charlie wouldn't hurt him. For the most part, I think. I agree, he'll never trust him completely, but I think he could gain trust more and more.
Oh you have no idea how much I really want to see this story now! The angst! The drama! Charlie with fangs!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:46 pm (UTC)Charlie would make a great evil vampire, though I wouldn't want to write him that way, I don't think, those big eyes and curls would seduce anyone to the dark side. Even Don. *weg*
no subject
Date: 2007-04-30 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:43 pm (UTC)Charlie as a vampire is an interesting idea. Gives this icon a whole new meaning. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:48 pm (UTC)See, I think it would be a great thing for you to write. ;) And yes it does!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:47 pm (UTC)And that you loved the challenge. Yes, that line was too irresistable to pass up. *g*
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Date: 2007-04-27 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-28 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-30 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-03 06:12 pm (UTC)