(no subject)

[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

[thesubjunctive]

"I want all those things you've thought about." He squirmed a little, trying to press closer, wanting something more than what he was getting. "Christ, I don't even know what most of them are and I really don't care. I fucking want it all."

[extendedmetaphor]

He thought about it for a moment, sucking lightly on Dakin's skin before he took his hand away from him altogether.

"You've got a filthy mouth, you know that?" he said, mildly. "Roll over."

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin grinned, only rolling onto his side for now, an arm resting comfortably on his hip, looking as if he wouldn't be out of place on a couch at a very particular sort of Roman dinner party. "I know you like it, don't you?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"I do," he admitted, glancing down before he looks up again, grinning. "I like hearing you talk like that." His hand slid over Dakin's hip and he swatted at his backside, lightly.

"All the way over. Come on, Dakin. Do as you're asked."

[thesubjunctive]

"I've never been very good at that," he said, even though his actions somewhat disagreed with that statement, rolling over just as directed. All the while he kept that damn smile, trying to make sure that his new position still showed him off to his best advantage.

[extendedmetaphor]

Irwin did notice the contradiction. He slid his hand over the curve of Dakin's arse, a relatively chaste, reverent sort of touch.

"Spread your legs," he said. There was a part of him that was fascinated by just how pliant Dakin could be.

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin did, suddenly feeling rather overexposed, but pressing on regardless. It was a position he'd definitely never been in before and there it came again, that little anticipatory thrill of the unknown.

[extendedmetaphor]

Even without his glasses, he was close enough to make Dakin out. For a moment, he stared, just taking him in - the curve of his back and his spread legs. The lines of him. His hand ran over Dakin's arse again, fingers straying into the cleft of his backside, touching him from his tailbone and all the way down.

[thesubjunctive]

A shiver crept down his back at the touch and he only just resisted the urge to squirm slightly. Dakin hadn't fully realized it before, he hadn't let himself realize it, but he really was far, far out of his depth here.

[extendedmetaphor]

The shiver was delicious and Irwin repeated the touch, just to see if Dakin does it again. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Dakin's shoulder, another to his mouth, just teasing with the tips of his fingers.

"You want that?" he asked, quietly. "Me inside you? You want to feel what that's like?"

[thesubjunctive]

It did not happen that often, but Dakin was uncertain. This was a situation where he didn't know exactly what was coming next, a situation where he wasn't sure how to take control, a reversal of everything he was used to.

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. Forward was the only way to go. "Yes. I do."

[extendedmetaphor]

That admission, the entire shift in Dakin's demeanor is dizzying. Irwin leaned across him again, rummaging in the drawer until he came up with what he was looking for: one small glass bottle. He uncorked it and poured a little into the palm of his hand, slicking his fingers before he dribbled a little more against Dakin's skin.

[thesubjunctive]

That was the thing. Nothing they had done hadfelt wrong or unpleasant yet, just strange. He strained his neck, twisting his head as far as he could over his shoulder in an effort to see everything that was going on. For once he was actually silent, waiting to see what came next.

[extendedmetaphor]

He followed the oil with his fingers, spreading it down the cleft of Dakin's arse, teasing with the tips of his fingers, pressing lightly with one.

"Even in my fantasies, I could never get you to be this quiet," he said, smiling, still rubbing, still teasing.

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked someone else being so smug while he was unsure. "Don't get too used to it." The anticipation bit was driving him crazy. "Are you always this slow about it?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"You'll thank me for going slow later," promised Irwin, refusing to be hurried about it and still taking his time. He pressed a little harder, enough to work the tip of one finger inside. "And you're the one who wanted to know what I was thinking about."

[thesubjunctive]

The finger was when things moved towards very strange. Dakin shifted a little, trying to get himself to adjust to the feeling. "I did," he admitted after a long pause. It was still strange, not bad, just extremely odd. "Do you always take this long to get anything started?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"Relax," he admonished, gently, his other hand in the small of Dakin's back to hold him steady as he continued to press his finger deeper.

"You wouldn't thank me if I hurried. Believe me."

[thesubjunctive]

"You don't know that," Dakin grumbled, but he stopped squirming, trying to lie still and relax. It was hard though, he wasn't used to being the one who wasn't in control and he almost didn't know what to do in the opposite role.

[extendedmetaphor]

"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?"

[thesubjunctive]

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?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"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.

[thesubjunctive]

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

[extendedmetaphor]

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.

[thesubjunctive]

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.