extendedmetaphor | (no subject)

"Glad to hear it," Dakin said, finishing his own drink in quick succession and rising from his seat. That had seemed like as much of an invitation to move on to the main event as anything he'd heard. "Care to give me a demonstration?"

Well. There it was. No more prevarication, no more posturing. In or out. Do or die, so to speak. There must be poetry for this.

He nodded. He stood.

"Alright," he said.

"I would ask your place or mine, but the answer's a bit obvious under the circumstances." The circumstances being a certain highly religious housemate who likely would not appreciate such goings on in the next room. Dakin would wait until at least the third time before annoying him like that.

"You'd also probably find it glib and expected."

"Putting words in my mouth now, are you?" asked Irwin, grateful, for the first time, of the little hut near the stream, not far from the pub where they're drinking and intensely private.

He felt awkward, so he put his hands in his pockets.

By some miracle, Dakin managed to bite back on the first response that came to mind. While some of his mates may have found it funny, he doubted Irwin would.

"Why not?" He walked along next to Irwin, not a bit awkward, feeling intensely proud of himself just for getting to that point in the proceedings. "After all, you would think that, wouldn't you?"

Honestly, Irwin was surprised that the joke that he'd so obviously left himself open for didn't come. He glanced across at Dakin.

"You do have that way," he said. "You're...effortless. It's irritating."

He looked over and smiled, effortless, just like Irwin had said. But he could hardly help that, could he?

"It's not the first time I've heard that."

Edited 2012-10-11 19:30 (UTC)

"I bet it isn't," said Irwin, still walking hands in his pockets. "Hopefully, at least some of this will come as a surprise to you, at least."

Dakin's smile turned rather smirk-like once more and he picked up the pace a little, eager to get there. After all, he'd had plenty of experience with girls, plus he had kissed men twice on the island, even if he had been drunk both times and even if it had all been in fun. How different and surprising could it all be? Sex was sex.

It wasn't far to walk and, too soon, Irwin was shouldering open the door, leaving it open for Dakin to walk in behind him. He couldn't quite believe he'd got here. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Dakin was silent for a while, taking in the fairly unimpressive surroundings. "I love what you've done with the decor," he quipped, taking off his jacket and draping it over one arm for the time being.

"Fuck. Right. Off," said Irwin, rolling his eyes as he headed for the bottle of booze that he's got; Dutch courage is exactly what he needs, right now.

"You're not here to critique the soft furnishings."

"Not yet." He settled for flinging the jacket casually over some sort of bookcase (Irwin would already have a collection of books a few weeks into his stay on a tropical island) and sat down casually on the bed. He couldn't have looked more at home if it was his own. "I might if I get bored."

Irwin poured two drinks but drank one almost straight away. He worked on trying to feel brave and capable, like the one who was experienced here. That he was the one who knew what he was doing.

He walked closer to Dakin. He didn't stop when it was sensible. To close. He was too close, his heart still pounding. He reached out and cradled the side of Dakin's face.

"What're we even doing here?"

"You tell me," he replied, not quite leaning into the touch, but very definitely not pulling away. All the while his eyes never left Irwin. "I thought we had it decided."

"The generalities, perhaps," said Irwin and maybe it was the spirits or the closeness or the fucking want but something made him braver. He leaned in, just a little bit more, tracing his thumb against Dakin's bottom lip.

"The particulars, though."

That was more like it. Dakin's lips curved into a bit of a smile at the touch, face tilting towards it. It was actually happening now. "Really? I thought 'your sucking me off' was pretty specific, sir," he said, the last word slipping out before he could stop it, if he had even wanted to. After all, it was habit, though a little ill-timed.

God, it shouldn't have sounded good but it did. His thumb shifts again, tracing the seam between Dakin's lips.

"I distinctly remember an 'or something similar," he said. "And, honestly, that just sounds like a start to me."

"Why don't we find out, then?" He shifted slightly, his body already getting visibly bored of just talking and his mind following quickly. There couldn't be any harm in speeding things up a little. "Do something instead of standing and talking about it."

It happened in a rush, so quick that his head ended up light. He sank down onto one knee, putting them on a level and then he leaned in, kissed him, all in a rush. His hands were on Dakin's knees, pushing them wider apart, and he almost didn't realise that he was doing it.

And Dakin eagerly kissed back, his hands on the back of the other man's head and kneck, holding him to it. A muffled sound of triumph escaped into the kiss. Took bloody long enough. At least from here on out it didn't seem as if Irwin needed any coaxing.

He didn't need urging, wouldn't need it. He pushed the kiss deeper, harder, all but let the want run away with him. His hands slid up Dakin's thighs, thumbs against his in-seams. He had to all but make fists to stop them going higher.

Irwin may not have needed urging, but Dakin urged nonetheless, kissing back with equal intensity, his hands roaming now down Irwin's back and shoulders. Part of him almost couldn't believe it was finally happening, but that was very small compared to the part that had acknowledged that it was and was now determined to make the most of it.

There was so much that was wrong with it, so much that ought to give him pause, but none of it made a blind bit of difference. It felt like it had been forever since the last time that he was even close to this. Dakin's hands wandered and Irwin drew in a shuddering breath against Dakin's mouth.

His hands were still fists.

"Say you want it."

"Yes."

Dakin's breathing was a bit ragged, his cheeks a bit flushed, but that determined glint in his eyes had not wavered one bit. "Fuck," he groaned, inching himself closer to Irwin. "I want it."