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dakin

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Or, perhaps, somewhere, they did go for that drink.

There was a lot that Irwin was still trying to adjust to. The weather, for a start. The lack of palpable history is disconcerting. He's refusing to address the dinosaurs.
And then there's Dakin. Of course, there's Dakin. Inevitably. Irwin might have been the only one who was actually surprised.

They skirted around it for a few weeks but, in the end, it just felt inevitable. That he'd find himself waiting for Dakin with a drink in front of him.
It was just a drink. And everything would be fine.

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"Put it down to experience," said Irwin. He kept pushing until his finger was pressed knuckle deep and then he started to pull it out, everything slippery enough that it was easy to find a quick, smooth rhythm.

"How does it feel, knowing nobody's done this to you before?" he asked. "Have you ever even done this to yourself?"

Dakin shook his head, still trying to get completely comfortable with the feeling. If this was all that the fuss was about he really didn't see the allure. He also really did not like being reminded that he was the one with less experience. "I had girlfriends. Do you really think I was ever that bored?"

Edited 2012-10-14 02:26 (UTC)

"It's got nothing to do with being bored," said Irwin, one hand still on Dakin's back to hold him as he eased another finger in alongside the first, angling his hand he was sure to graze along Dakin's prostate with the thrust of his fingers.

Waiting for the moment when he did.

When the moment did come Dakin was completely unprepared for it. "Fuck!" He gasped, fingers twisting in the blanket. "What did you fucking do?"

For a moment, Irwin doesn't say anything at all, just keeping his hand at the same angle and grazing his fingers against the exactly same spot over and over again.

As long as he did so Dakin continued to keep up a steady stream of swearing which, if repetitive, made up for it in sheer abundance. His hand had slid down between his body and the mattress, trying to stroke himself at the same rhythm Irwin was using. He dimly noticed that he was pushing back against the fingers at the same time, trying to get more and probably looking like a complete fool, but he really did not care at the moment.

The last thing that Dakin looked like was a fool; Irwin found himself completely captivated by the ride of his hips. He started to press a thing finger inside, conscious of making the going easier, later on.

"You're going to come too soon if you don't keep your hand off your cock," he said, making sure he kept hitting Dakin's prostate, not wanting the squirming to end.

Dakin drew his hand away reluctantly, rubbing himself against the bed in its absence. He wanted to get off, wanted it so badly, but not if Irwin would think it was too soon. This time he would show him that his technique did not need work. That he could do this perfectly.

"How... God." He moaned, clenching his fists to stop them from touching himself again. "What are you bloody doing?"

It was undeniably beautiful, watching Dakin squirm and rock like that. Watching him come a little bit undone.

"It's your prostate," he explains, still working it, fucking Dakin deeply with his fingers. "Now you see why I wanted to know if you'd ever done this to yourself."

"Not exactly the sort of thing the sort of thing they mention in the usual literature, now is it?" Dakin said, his speech interspersed with frequent interruptions as he vocally showed just how much he was enjoying it. He rocked back harder, wanting everything he could get and more.

"You're clearly reading the wrong sort of literature," said Irwin, a comment which he might live to regret but, for now, everything was perfect. "Get up on you knees," he said, punctuating with a particularly firm thrust of his fingers.

"Fuck.." Dakin made a sound suspiciously like a whimper at that, rising up until he was on his hands and knees. Already he felt more unsteady and out of control than he'd ever been during sex and it was new and different and good. He had never expected this from Irwin, but he didn't have one bit of regret over the turn things had taken.

God, those sounds. Irwin leaned in, added more oil to his fingers and made sure that he was fucking Dakin good and deep. It might have been childish of him, but he had a really strong need to hear Dakin beg.

"You look fucking beautiful like that," he said, figuring that he could at least give Dakin that much.

Dakin gasped, barely registering the compliment in the midst of the sensations Irwin was providing. It was so good, so new, and he wanted more. He wanted to touch himself, to have Irwin touch him, something. Anything.

"More," he gasped, pushing back, trying to speed up the other man's pace. "Come on."

"More what?" prompted Irwin, well on his way to being hard again and all of it based on the way that Dakin looks right then. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Dakin's smooth skin, sucking up a mark.

"Don't know." His back arched up as Irwin sucked a t his skin, tilting his head back with a groan. Desperate and giving on control, he reached down to touch himself once again, balancing with one hand. "Fuck. I just want more. More everything."

And there it was - that uncertainty that he'd be looking for, tinged with need. Dakin utterly unselfconscious, just for a moment.

He dragged his fingers out of Dakin's body and slicked his cock, breath catching when he touches himself.

"On your back," he says, tapping Dakin's arse again. "I want to look at you."

It was a bit of an undignified scramble to get there, but there he was. Naked on Irwin's bed, cock in hand, almost trembling with need, and well and truly on his way to be debauched. It was a situation he'd never seriously entertained, but now that he was there he was going to take full advantage of it while he could.

"Oh, God."

It came out strangled, the sight of Dakin spread out like that sending an electric shiver from his stomach to his balls. His cock throbbed in his hand. He nudged Dakin's knees wider apart, leaning in between them, pressing his cock against Dakin without pushing inside.

"Now tell me what you want."

Dakin swallowed, not a pause of hesitation so much as a moment to try to collect himself so that he didn't sound completely stupid. "You." He held Irwin's gaze, not looking away for even a second, beginning to stroke himself slowly. "I want you. All of you."

"Jesus Christ. Where the fuck did you come from?" said Irwin, and then he couldn't hold back any longer. He rocked his hips forward, starting to ease into Dakin's body, giving him plenty of time to adjust, his weight caught on one hand, eyes on his face.

There quite a few clever answers that Dakin could have given in response to that question, but he didn't say any of them. After all, he had rather more pressing things on his mind not long after. Irwin's cock was most definitely not the same as Irwin's fingers, but he went slowly and all of the preparation that Dakin had complained about earlier was suddenly very appreciated.

He bit his lip briefly, closing his eyes and taking a slow breath before opening them. It wasn't bad, just very, very different.

He went as slow as he could manage, as slow as he could bear, pressing until he was all the way into Dakin's body and then stopping to give him a moment to get used to it. He bent, pressing a kiss against Dakin's shoulder.

"Okay?"

Dakin nodded. It was still a bit uncomfortable, still strange, even as he adjusted his mind and body to this very unexpected turn that his sex life had taken, but he wasn't going to tell Irwin that. If he was asking he must have had some idea.

"I'm fine."

"It'll get better," he promised, tugging Dakin's thigh higher against his hip, changing the angle slightly as he rocked his hips, thrusting shallowly.

His breath caught in a moan against Dakin's skin.