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[extendedmetaphor]

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.

Comments

[extendedmetaphor]

"Have you suck me off, for a start," he said, a hand on either side of Dakin's thighs to catch his weight. He felt almost drunk and he could still taste Dakin and that? Was enough to make him bold. "Or strip you and slick you, use my fingers and my mouth. Even fuck you, maybe. Any way you'll let me."

[thesubjunctive]

That coming from Irwin's mouth, was one of the sexiest things Dakin had heard in a long time, even as it sent a jolt of nerves through him. He'd never done anything like that with a man, had always been the one making the decisions in bed. What Irwin was saying was new and unexpected, but there was a sizable thrill to that, to seeing how far he could go.

"You would?" He leaned back a bit further on the bed, catching his weight on his elbows. "Where would you start, then?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"Well," said Irwin, backing off a little to pull off Dakin's sneakers, peel his jeans down his legs and strip them off altogether. He was intensely, completely aware that Dakin was almost completely naked, while he hadn't managed to take anything off at all. "Best to start slow, I think."

He leans in and presses a kiss to Dakin's chest, just to one side of his nipple.

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin stayed there, making a pleased little noise in the back of his throat as Irwin kissed him, still smiling as though yes, this was his due. It was only right that he should be adored, wanted.

[extendedmetaphor]

He let his mouth wander, tongue trailing across Dakin's nipple itself before he worried it with the edge of his teeth, nipping lightly. He lifted his head and then sat back on his heels, looking at the way Dakin's sprawled there, all of that tanned skin. He started to unbutton his own shirt.

"You've never done this before," he said. Not a question. "But have you thought about it, ever? Did you think about this with me?"

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin gave a small shrug, watching Irwin's progress with interest. Each undone button was like an additional tiny victory. "Never in detail. Sucking off is the same no matter who's doing the sucking. After that there are... differences."

[extendedmetaphor]

"Oh, not all the same, I hope," he said, easing his shirt back off his shoulders, shrugging out of it altogether.

"I've thought about it," he said, standing up so that he could start on his belt. "About...fucking you. I probably should feel terrible about that, but I don't. I just don't."

[thesubjunctive]

"Good."

Dakin was just happy that Irwin had apparently completely gotten past his earlier reluctance. It was wonderful to see him finally let himself go. Though he'd have to admit that it was also nice to finally see him shirtless. "I've never felt terrible about it."

[extendedmetaphor]

"I doubt you feel terrible about much," said Irwin, pushing down trousers but opting to stay in underwear, for now at least. His knee hit the bed and he leaned down over Dakin, not kissing him, but his mouth close.

"I want to hear what you want again," he said.

[thesubjunctive]

"What I want?" Dakin asked, looking up at Irwin with that same knowing, confident expression in his eyes. It wasn't going to change just because less clothing was involved. "I already got what I came for, didn't I? At this point anything else is just a perk."

[extendedmetaphor]

"You're bloody infuriating," he said, and then he leaned down, his chest against Dakin's to kiss him, rocking his hips down. God, he was hard. He still couldn't quite believe that this was happening.

"If you got what you came for, you might as well go home."

[thesubjunctive]

"I could." Dakin leaned up, kissing him again, slow and a bit sloppy, but thorough. "But maybe I want to see what comes next," he said, pulling away, his voice low.

[extendedmetaphor]

There weren't really any words for that, not then. He got lost in kissing Dakin, not grinding down against him, not exactly, but rocking his hips, only that one thing layer of cotton separating them.

"Would you let me?" he asked, breathless, pressing kisses against Dakin/s mouth and jaw and the side of his neck. "Would you let me do that?"

[thesubjunctive]

"Would I let you do what?" Irwin had come a long way from the man who would barely admit to anything aloud back at the pub, but Dakin still liked hearing it. He also wanted to hear just what he had precisely in mind so that he could execute a calculated withdrawal if needed. "It all rather depends on what that is."

[extendedmetaphor]

"Jesus, Dakin," murmured Irwin, who'd taught Dakin, after all, and knew that his comprehension was much sharper than this when it suited him, "would you let me fuck you? All of that that I said before." He paused, sucking up a mark on Dakin's collarbone, answering to a sudden, sharp need to show where he'd been. "Because you might have spent lessons day-dreaming about sucking off but that was what I was thinking about."

[thesubjunctive]

Well, it didn't get much more specific than that. Before this had started, when it was still in the preparation stage, he'd been fairly certain of what he was willing to do in return. A handjob definitely, probably even sucking him off, but that... that was enough to cause a noticeable flicker of uncertainty.

However, it was one that he quickly attempted to cover up with his usual bravado, smiling confidently. "Is that really what you were sitting there thinking about? Or when you were talking about Henry VIII and Hitler? You've got a filthier mind than I thought."

[extendedmetaphor]

There was a faint feeling of triumph at seeing the uncertainty flicker across Dakin's face. Irwin would, of course, settle for less, but it was worth seeing Dakin look a little less sure, if only for a second.

"What can I say?" he murmured, grazing his lips against Dakin's. "You bring out the worst in me."

[thesubjunctive]

"It's a talent," he quipped, pressing himself up against Irwin for a proper kiss now. It was easiest to do that while he figured out what his next move would be. The battlefield was shifting rapidly and he found himself having to readjust his plans accordingly, though as time went on he couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that Irwin had the upper hand in this situation.

[extendedmetaphor]

It certainly was. The press of Dakin's body against his was distracting and the kiss was easy to lose himself in. He'd stopped thinking about the right and wrong of his a while ago.

Honestly, he was pretty sure that he'd take what he can get.

[thesubjunctive]

Adjusting his plans accordingly, Dakin reached down between them, pressing his palm against Irwin through thin cotton, not breaking the kiss. "Is this what you want?" he asked, pulling away just enough to murmur the words against the older man's skin. "My hand on your dick? Or maybe something more?" He smiled, stroking once. Honestly, the whole thing wasn't half as strange as he had thought it would be once he stopped thinking and started doing.

[extendedmetaphor]

His breath shivered out against Dakin's skin and he nodded, hips lifting against Dakin's touch. He nodded, swallowing hard.

"God, I've told you what I want."

[thesubjunctive]

"Well, I want to be sure I'm doing this properly, don't I?" He stroked again, slowly. "You're the teacher. You're meant to be expanding my horizons. So to speak." He shifted underneath him, teasing.

"Can you blame me for wanting to be thorough?" Another slow stroke of his hand. "For wanting to make sure it's exactly what you wanted?" Dakin continued, accenting those last few words with a series of firmer strokes and as earnest an expression as he could manage.

[extendedmetaphor]

Of course, it stood to reason that, even here, even now, Dakin would shine. That he would, in some way, be a natural. Irwin didn't even have it in him to be irritated, rocking into the touch which, even through cotton, was maddening.

"You want to know exactly what I want?"

[thesubjunctive]

"Every last detail," he said, arching up to press a kiss against Irwin's jaw, noting how different that hint of stubble felt and liking it. "Every single filthy thought. Every inappropriate fantasy. I want to know everything."

[extendedmetaphor]

For a moment, he didn't have a coherent thought in his head; he was too distracted by the rise and fall of Dakin's body beneath him, the warm brush of his lips.

"There's so many" he said, past even blushing. "It'd take forever to tell you them all. There isn't time." God, he wished there was. "I did give a lot of thought to...what it might be like to be inside you, though. I returned to that one."