Play It Again, Charlie (22 page)

He had to have chosen those words to drive Charlie crazy, though it was tantalizingly easy to believe that he meant them. He had been out before, as they both knew, on a night colder than this one. Charlie wasn't likely to have forgotten Will in the dark, in moonlight. He could be that way again, if Charlie didn't mind the chance of the entire world seeing them.

“
Tease
,” he wanted to say, but his throat was dry.

He moved at least, tearing away and getting his keys without blinking. His hands were clumsy with the lock, his leg heavy when he finally stumbled inside and switched on the lights. He shoved his keys across the counter and stopped at the sink at the sound of Will's quiet amusement. When he turned, Will was shutting the door behind him and watching Charlie with glittering eyes.

He
was
funny, Charlie knew that, and scowled without looking away from Will, his body, his chest, his face. The line of his throat and his jaw, the way he swallowed. His eyes. The sushi bag was dangling from his arm, apparently forgotten. But then, it was just a pretext, like coffee, that Will didn't seem to need coaching on, despite how he acted. His experience was obvious, as were his plans for when this was over, and Charlie opened his mouth, refusing to think about that, not now, not if this was his one chance.

“Will.” He only had to stand here and Will would come to him again, but he moved, limping forward on shaky legs as Will's eyes stayed riveted on him. He made one rough, pleased sound, and then Charlie kissed him.

Will's mouth opened before Charlie put his hands against the door, his head going back as Charlie leaned forward. He made another sound at the first exchanged breath and careful flick of a tongue, and Charlie splayed his fingers to hold himself up, pressing until his knuckles had to be white. He could feel Will without touching anything but his mouth. He was heat on the inside of his arms, a shivering body just in front of him.

God. Will was inches away from him. Less. Charlie angled his head, following after the hint of wine and fruit, the catches in Will's breathing and the needy clutch of one hand at his shirt. Another sound slipped out of Will, a rumbling hum against Charlie's lips as that hand slid up to pull at Charlie's collar, pull him
in
, as though they weren't already so close.

Charlie shut his eyes and felt heat, his fingers slipping from painted wood to Will's hip, Will breaking away to gasp against his mouth. Charlie kissed him again, there, because each one seemed to weaken Will and leave him more and more breathless, and he was only a little ashamed to admit he liked that. Will wasn't being smart anymore; he was trembling and holding Charlie to stay up, and shocked, whining sounds slipped from him when Charlie dragged his mouth away.

Charlie panted hard against Will's jaw, then kissed that again before moving back to his lips, that mouth that had been tempting him for weeks. It was suddenly pliant, making noises that he wanted to hear, needed to hear, stifled, wet words, his name. Jesus, Charlie had missed kissing, and Will's mouth was better than anything he'd fantasized about.

He bent for more before Will would push him away, speaking something quiet and probably stupid into Will's mouth, feeling his breath come back warm against his stinging cheeks. He worked a knee between Will's legs, had to get closer, and Will's ass hit the door with a soft thump. Charlie paused at the sound, frowning without opening his eyes, but Will didn't protest. His hands slid to the back of Charlie's neck and curved into his hair, and he moaned as Charlie angled his head to kiss him deeper.

Will's fingers grasped at him. There were licks of sensation coming from Will's fingertips, slicing hot and cold down through him, and Charlie shuddered, as weak as Will falling against the door. Charlie liked him there, thought about pinning him there and keeping him there forever. He slid his hands down Will's sides and then under his clothes.

The feel of bare skin made him shake, press forward for one moment, his whole body throbbing.

“Charlie,” Will objected when Charlie had to pull away, only to arch up when Charlie's mouth trailed down his throat and Charlie's hand couldn't stop pulling at Will's shirt. “Charlie.” Will's voice was rough and dry, and he was shifting toward Charlie's mouth, his hand. “I thought you didn't... .” He didn't finish, but Charlie wasn't ready to open his eyes yet. “Like fucking gangbusters.” Will laughed incredulously and then made another indecent noise when Charlie pressed more kisses to his throat and collarbone. Paul had done that too, but unlike Paul, Charlie was listening breathlessly for whatever Will had to say.

Will pushed up into Charlie's hand when Charlie got thin layers of cotton completely out of his way and spread his fingers out over Will's skin at last. One of Will's hands closed over his for a moment, making Charlie finally open his eyes. Will was flushed and wide-eyed, watching him with an expression Charlie couldn't read.

“You always kiss like that?” he wanted to know. He could have been joking, though then he pushed Charlie's hand up, so Charlie could feel as he touched his nipple and watch him as he licked his mouth. Then he put his hand back to Charlie's neck.

He wet his mouth again when Charlie splayed his hands out over all that hot, smooth skin. Will was always so hot. His body was firm, no matter how helpless he liked to act. Charlie traced down to the top of his jeans without looking away, watching Will swallow, watching him
wait
.

It made him aware, distantly, of what he had and had not asked for permission for here. He wasn't moving to let Will shift, but then Will wasn't trying to. Will's hand only curled around the back of Charlie's neck, then fell down to his shirt. He undid the top two buttons, his lips parting when Charlie didn't stop him, and then he worked his hand under the fabric to cover Charlie's shoulder.

His grin for that tasted soft and sweet, amazing. Charlie dipped his fingers under the loose waist of his jeans, over his underwear, and then pushed that elastic line out of his way.

“I've been wanting to do that.” Charlie moved his mouth to Will's ear and spoke in a hoarse whisper. It was an easy thing to admit after he had done it, though he was breathing in short bursts. Will's mouth fell open a little more, a heavy sound escaping. Charlie realized his fingers were pressing hard into Will's skin and relaxed them, spreading them out over Will's stomach. He couldn't see it from where he was, but he knew it would be tanned. There was fine, soft hair on his lower belly too. He followed that with his fingertips, lightly, making Will turn toward him.

Charlie brought his head back up, frowning for a moment when he saw Will's eyes shut. The hand on his shoulder opened and closed, a gesture that was somehow anxious, and Charlie bent without thinking, hesitating over Will's mouth. Will's eyes opened. His pupils were dilated, round and dark above his pink cheeks.

“I ought to... I was going to... Marilyn... but.
Don't stop. Don't ever stop
,” he mumbled, the words alluring but unsteady, creating another flare of heat through Charlie, a wave of dizziness that had him fighting to stay up. He sucked in air and shifted his lower body so he could press his erection into something. Will's flat, warm stomach. Bare skin. Charlie's jeans were too constricting. Will seemed to think so too. He dropped a hand, tried to get it between them, and for a second Charlie could only feel tight, tight heat.

He shook his head and grabbed Will's hand before he could think, pulling it away and putting it back at his shoulder so he wouldn't embarrass himself. He had another wave of weakness, swirling hot thoughts about why Will would let him do that, about how Will's cock twitched against him at the forceful move, and then shoved it away to focus on popping the button on Will's jeans. He should have asked, but when he put his hand where he wanted it, Will's tongue slid from between his lips to lick at the corner of Charlie's mouth.

Charlie slid his other hand between Will's head and the door, his palm to feather-soft, shining hair, and let Will lick his mouth back open. He had to stop with each swipe of his tongue, gasp encouragement when Charlie's other hand moved over sweat-slick skin, found his dick.

Charlie's body was tense, shaking. He fought a shudder, and Will smiled, and God, he could feel that against his mouth too.

“I... .” Charlie closed his eyes, didn't want to embarrass himself. Not that there was a chance in hell of thinking about anything other than Will at this moment. Will's mouth, Will's body making small, shallow thrusts into his hand. He squeezed, and Will let out an eager groan.

“Charlie,” Will whimpered into his mouth, bringing Charlie's eyes up. His hips came away from the door, and Charlie immediately pinned him back with his body. There was another thump as Will's back slammed into the wood. Charlie didn't get a chance to apologize. Will was instantly pleading against his cheek, leaking pre-come on his fingers. “Please.” He hitched up again, though unless Charlie stepped back he couldn't go anywhere, and then let out a shaky breath when Charlie didn't move. Charlie wasn't sure he
could
move, not with Will so close.

“Was that from something?” he tried asking, though he'd forgotten what he was talking about, if Will was trying to quote a movie or just being
Will
. He made up for his stupid question by sliding down Will's zipper. The sound seemed loud, echoed by Will's grateful little sigh, and then Will's small, hungry moan when Charlie shoved his jeans down past his thighs and then took his cock back in his hand.

His palm was damp, slick, but not wet enough. Will wasn't complaining.

“Fuck,” Will pushed out, short and dirty, definitely not from a movie, and Charlie felt his mouth turn up despite his burning skin, the pounding pulse in his lower body. Will was hard, hot, cut. He stroked him and leaned forward to catch more of Will's weight when Will hit the door again. Will's hand came out of his shirt, holding tight to his collar when Charlie squeezed. He could always make Will come first; that would be less embarrassing as well as unbelievably sexy.

He wanted,
needed
that suddenly. He breathed out and squeezed Will's cock again. Will's eyelids fluttered, like he was dreaming.

“Fuck,” he said again, and he rocked up into Charlie's hand, against Charlie's leg. Charlie grabbed at the door and fell forward. “This is only you kissing!” Will exclaimed suddenly, out of breath and rasping.

“What are you talking about?” Charlie did his best to sound dry, calm, anything but aroused and dizzy. But he was too close now, didn't have to move his hand, just his body, a small shift and they were pressed together. His breath caught. Will was still panting. It went straight to Charlie's cock.

“What else have you been hiding, you big strong man you?” It would have been flirtatious except for the way Will couldn't stop pushing forward, how weakly he was clinging to Charlie to keep them together. Charlie ran his thumb under the head of Will's cock, drawing fevered gasps and slick liquid from him, then shifted his grip. He moved slow, but with each squeeze, each slide up and down, Will would grab more of Charlie's collar and wrinkle it into a tight ball.

Charlie wasn't hiding anything, couldn't have if he'd tried. But he straightened, pulling his hand from Will's dick and placing it back on the door.

Underneath him, Will opened his eyes wide.

“I'm not hiding anything,” Charlie told him seriously. “I just want this,” he admitted, hot with shame and need. Will
had
to feel him shaking. But maybe Will misunderstood, maybe he thought Charlie meant something else, just wanting to kiss again, or hold him like this, like some kind of damn fairy tale, when Charlie knew that wasn't possible. He focused his attention on the door, the strands of Will's freshly washed hair. He didn't think he could take it if Will made a joke now.

He shifted, bringing his body flush with Will's so Will could feel how hard he was, if he hadn't already, so hard it ached, and it only got worse when Will's hand crept to his face.

“Charlie,” Will told him, sounding just as serious, though Charlie couldn't look in his eyes, “you're killing me.” He jerked, trying to bring up his other hand, and then blinked at the crinkling of the plastic bag. Charlie suddenly
had
to step back at Will's sudden, frantic motions to shake himself free of the bag, and then moved back in to grab Will's arm and hold him still while he pulled the stretching plastic off him.

“... thing off me!” Will finished the moment he was free and tossed the entire bag to the side. It landed on the counter, and then Charlie forgot about it. “
Never
waited like this.” Will glared at him for half a second before Charlie pressed him back to the door and put his hands to Will's face to hold him still as he kissed him.

Will's mouth. Will's tongue. Charlie wanted to feel them on his cock, his skin, but he couldn't stop kissing him. Will met him and then fell back, both of his hands coming up to Charlie's chest, then falling down to his hips.

He pulled, and Charlie flushed, too hot, too everything, at the feel of Will's cock against him.

“Just this,” Will murmured, and Charlie frowned, still not sure Will understood. But it had been too long, and it didn't matter if Will understood or not, he reminded himself, shaking his head in a way that made Will frown dreamily and try to focus. Charlie shook his head again and reached down. Will made a choked sound when Charlie then slid his hands around Will's hipbones, the warm skin damp with sweat, when Charlie hesitated and then brought his hands down to Will's ass.

He squeezed, not gently, felt strong, whole, when Will whimpered. He straddled Charlie's leg, pressing, close, too close, not close enough. He grabbed Charlie hard, to stay on his feet or to urge Charlie on, nodding as he unhooked Charlie's belt and sent it flying.

“Hope I didn't hit your cat,” he remarked breathlessly, then he used both hands to work on Charlie's zipper for long moments of frantic breathing, his gaze on the side of Charlie's face. He didn't pull at Charlie's jeans, just untucked Charlie's shirt and tugged on enough buttons to get it out of his way. His hands were as greedy and demanding as his mouth.