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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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From:

extendedmetaphor

It took longer than it probably ought to have done before he could move. He gasped as he pulled out of Dakin's body and then he sprawled along side him, one arm thrown somewhat possessively across him.

"Jesus," he said, finally, with feeling.

From:

thesubjunctive

Dakin turned his head to watch Irwin, liking the way his arm felt draped over him, liking the way he was still out of breath, liking the way that nearly everything felt. This was what the word debauched was meant to feel like and it was wonderful, ten times better than merely reading or fantasizing about it.

"Is that what it's always like?" The unspoken question was still apparent no matter how he might try not to let it show. What was I like? I was good enough, wasn't I?

From:

extendedmetaphor

"When you do it right, yes," said Irwin, nodding as he glances over at him, fingers stroking against Dakin's bare side. "If you're lucky."

From:

thesubjunctive

Dakin smiled a bit at that, lazy and smug. He was was lucky in this as in so many other things. It was always nice to hear it said aloud though.

"It was worth it, then, going for that drink?"

From:

extendedmetaphor

"Apparently." When he'd first shown up, he'd been in two minds whether to tell Dakin about that conversation at all; being moral and above it had seemed attractive. Still, with his palm pressed against Dakin's ribs, feeling his heartbeat, he was glad that he couldn't quite stand strong in the face of it.