Numb3rs, David/Colby. NC-17. Post-"Rampage" PWP.
"So, how many beers have I had, again?" Colby muttered into David's neck as his hand slid into David's pants.
"So, how many beers have I had, again?" Colby muttered into David's neck as his hand slid into David's pants. David had insisted on taking Colby back to his place for the serious drinking, and they'd left the lights off and sat on the floor by the couch with their beers. Colby had lost count somewhere between the second disc on the stereo and David's mouth on his, tentative and then not.
"Oh," David said, and his breath caught as Colby's hand found his dick, thick and hard in his hand, and God but it had been too long. "Definitely enough." Colby couldn't move his hand much, trapped in David's pants, but he squeezed and then David's hand moved quick and clever, unbuttoning and unzipping. His partner's fingers brushed his wrist, curled against the nape of his neck, and Colby mouthed up David's throat to his jaw, stubble prickling Colby's lips as he started jerking David off for real.
David's fingers on his neck tightened as David turned his head, catching Colby's mouth in a sloppy breathless kiss. Colby grinned into it, muscle memory setting in as his wrist and thumb remembered to twist here, flick there, earning a groan from David's lips and David's hand scrabbling--clumsy now--at the front of Colby's jeans. Colby lifted his head, arching into the touch as David's hand worked inside, and he felt dizzy and drunk all of a sudden, not just lazy and laid back. David leaned up and kissed him, wet and slow and deep, and Colby's hand stuttered and stopped. David laughed, low and raspy and hot, and Colby's hips jerked against his hand. "Hang on," Colby muttered, and David tightened his grip until Colby gasped. Colby leaned in and bit David's lower lip, then licked it and muttered, "Not like that, man."
"Whatever you say," David murmured back, licking his own lip, his tongue sliding against Colby's along the way, but his hand relaxed and Colby remembered where he'd been headed after a few more quick kisses. He scooted backward awkwardly, leaning down over David's cock, and whacked his head solidly against David's chest in the process. David gave a slightly wheezing laugh and got one hand in Colby's hair and another on his shoulder, and said, "Maybe more than e--" and then Colby's mouth was sliding onto the head of his cock, and David didn't get any more actual words out.
Colby sucked him slow, easing his way down, licking in little flicks of tongue when he had to catch his breath. David's fingers tightened and released in his hair, making Colby smile, and David's other hand slid down his arm to the skin just under his t-shirt sleeve. David's blunt fingernail trailing over that spot made Colby shiver as he slid his mouth lower over David's cock. It was all good, all familiar even while it was new, the taste and the heat and the half-controlled jerks bruising his throat as he rode them out. It had been like this with other guys, before: no words, just half-stifled breathy sounds, clothes still on, shoes still on, in the dark like this, music playing to cover the sounds. Drunk like this, so the thrust of a dick in his mouth was as much a part of being hammered as the lazy heaviness in his legs, the slow burn in his belly.
But this was different: no fear, and David's hand on his arm--his partner's hand, his partner's broken words above him, David's cock in his mouth as he licked and sucked, wet and slow. He was different, too, his hips grinding against the floor, his dick throbbing, getting off on getting David off. Colby shifted his weight, freeing one hand to slide up David's thigh, over his jeans, up to where the waistband sagged away and his fingers could touch skin. David's hip, David's side, and David twitched under him, his hips jerking hard as he gasped, almost a laugh, "Oh, man, that ti--"
Colby grinned as much as he could right then, fluttered his fingers against David's skin and his tongue against the underside of David's cock, and David thrust up hard, just once, and then he was coming. Colby swallowed--less mess, less to explain--but David was laughing up above him, and he couldn't keep from laughing when David laughed. He half-choked, pulled off and stroked David through the last of it as David pulled him upright, coughing and laughing and leaning heavy against David's shoulder. David turned his head, brushing a clumsy kiss across Colby's mouth and chin, and for half a second he could taste beer in David's mouth, and then everything tasted like sex. David's hand was down Colby's pants again, strong and quick. Colby was ready, so ready for this touch, this hand, and he had to turn his face away, hiding his eyes against David's shoulder as he came, his whole body shaking with it. He collapsed almost in David's lap, trying to catch his breath, and David mumbled, "Up, up," and somehow levered them both off the floor, scrambling and falling onto the couch in a sweaty, breathless tangle.
Colby was half under David, squashed flat into the cushions by his weight, but at least this way he wouldn't fall off the couch. David's forehead rested heavy against his shoulder, his breath hot through Colby's t-shirt, and Colby ran his hand idly over David's head, like he'd been wanting to at stupid moments forever, coming to rest on the back of his neck. "Hey," Colby mumbled as his eyes slid shut. "Did you have enough?"
David snorted, and Colby felt it against his chest as much as heard it. "I'm gonna remember this tomorrow morning, unlike some people."
Colby squeezed a little, all the strength gone out of his hands, all the strength gone out of everything. "Tell me about it, then," he said in the dark, hoping David would understand him through the slur of sleep and sex and enough of everything, hoping David was wrong and he wouldn't forget this. "Tell me it was good."