Chapter 18 of 'Lies We Tell Ourselves' by ely_jan and sweptawaybayou
David Boreanaz/Christian Kane
Continued from here.
“Why are...what are you doing here, David?”
David stood still. He leaned against the wall. He simply watched Chris. His lips still tingled with the taste of kisses, his head still hurt from the crack of that cowboy's hard skull. His fingers still felt the warmth of Chris' skin under them and for a minute, David couldn't think of anything to say.
Until he felt the smile crawl up on his lips. The curve at the corner of his mouth and the indrawn breath as he tried to hold back the laughter. Chris stood in front of him, naked as the day he was born. Probably as angry right now as he was then, at being forcibly pushed from the warm, comfortable womb of his mother and shoved into this cold, hard world. Slapped on the ass, poked and prodded and expected to eat all on his own. To not have everything delivered to him, handed to him, brought to him.
David pulled at the corner of his unbuttoned 501's and took the few steps that separated them. The air smelled of smoky, charred bacon. His ears rang with the incessant, electronic blare of the alarm even after it was stopped and the bewilderment and rage in Chris' eyes was a physical pain.
"I was making breakfast."
David whispered. His voice low and soft. Talking to a growling dog, speaking to a horse with it's ears laid back, trying to calm a feral cat. His fingers reached out, just the tips of them ran down the smooth expanse of Chris' chest. Over the curves and into the dips of the defined muscles he found there. He grabbed a dish towel from the counter and held it up.
"Would this help?"
David held the small towel to Chris' groin and shook his head. Little tsk tsk sounds as he tossed it back to the counter top.
David ignored the look he was getting from Chris. The incredulous, are you fucking kidding me glare. He was too damn used to that. He pushed Chris back, still only his fingertips touching that heated skin, until Chris was against the counter and David leaned over him. Looked down and smiled. Fucking proud of himself for holding all the laughter in ... that would come later. When Chris was more amicable and David was sure that would happen, well, sometime in the next decade, maybe.
"You asked me to come home with you, Kane. So I did. You wanted me to sleep in your bed and I did."
He reached for a coffee cup in the cabinet just up and behind Chris and set it on the counter. His hips rubbed against Chris and his long arms moved behind Chris' back. Poured coffee out of the carafe and into the cup and he never stopped the pressure or the heat or the touch. David's fingers trailed down Chris' chest to curl around the soft hair that grew from his groin.
"Found you on the couch and all I could do was kiss you. All I could do was bend over you and taste your lips. All I could do was show you how I feel, Chris. What I want. What I need."
Those blue eyes followed his as David took a drink from the cup. He swirled the hot, bitter, perfect taste of the fresh coffee in his mouth and set the cup back on the counter. His knees bent, his fingers pressing into the hard muscles of Chris' thighs as David slid down the front of him. Big palms cupped Chris' smooth, rounded ass, his mouth left a trail of heated kisses along the shivering skin of Chris' abdomen to his find his cock bumping against the stubble on David's chin.
On his knees and David looked up. His lungs filled with the smell of Chris' body. The spicy musk that rolled off of him in waves, the salt that made David's mouth water. He didn't see the bruises, the cut on a cheekbone that was sealed with dried blood. All David saw were the clear, beautiful, blue eyes that belonged to the man that had never once let him down. Never once left him alone. Never failed to pick up the phone when he called and never turned away from him when he was drunk and angry and stupid. Chris was his right hand, sometimes his better, sometimes worse.
David pushed Chris' thighs apart, he sucked two fingers into his mouth and slid them behind Chris' balls. He teased over Chris' opening and slowly, softly, licked over the head of Chris' cock. His thumbs pushed up, massaging in small circles into Chris' groin. David had to close his eyes to stop looking at Chris and he took the head of Chris' dick into his mouth. Sucked softly, swirled his tongue on the sensitive underside and moved back and forth, taking more each time he came closer. The tip of one finger slipped just inside Chris and curled back. David pushed against that tight ring of muscle, then added his other finger. His own hips jerked forward when Chris' did, his cock held down, strained up in the denim that hung open, loose and low.
He hummed, held his breath when his nose was crushed up to the tight skin and soft curls. Scraped his teeth with gentle touches as he sucked, his fingers pushed up and up. Scissored apart and twisted together, up to knuckles and out again.
David could feel Chris' thighs shake, hear the breath hiss between lips above him and he was almost afraid to open his eyes again. Afraid to stop what he was doing, to pull off and away. To stand up and kiss the cowboy. To find his fingers and walk with him to the bedroom and take him on that big bed. To l ie over him and drown in his mouth, pull his hair until his chin pointed up to the ceiling and spread his legs open. Feel the slick heat of sweat as their chests moved together, the tight pull of his thighs, the sharp dig of his heels in the small of his back. To hear that low, gruff moan when David put his cock inside the tight, clenching, burning heat where his fingers played right now.
Afraid because it might be too late, it might not be enough. That everything that happened yesterday afternoon had broken the tenuous thread that bound them together. The invisible silk that could be stronger than steel chains or more delicate than a spider's web. Friendship. Lust. Laughter. Love. Fighting and spitting and sharing and touching.
They could be so far apart. Grown up on different sides of the country, with families that couldn't be more opposite if they'd come from other worlds. Found each other by chance. Friends by choice. Lovers because they couldn't not be.
The cloying, familiar taste of sticky sweet precome filled David's mouth as he sucked and teased and finally he had to ... had to take that chance. See what was left for him. See what was in Chris' eyes and he stopped. One final lick, his tongue poked through the slit as he gathered up the taste of Chris and held it, rolled it in his mouth. His fingers slipped free, they dug into the backs of Chris' thighs as he stood up and licked his lips.
Slowly looked through thick, dark lashes in the sunlight splashed kitchen at the man that leaned against the counter in front of him. David couldn't stop the smile, as he felt the heat that bounced back and forth between them even when they didn't touch.
"That's what I'm doing here, Chris."