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I wanna hear the sounds you're gonna make when you fuck me.

[He latches onto Meyer's ear with his teeth, tugging gently.]

You're gonna try to keep your fucking cool but it ain't gonna be worth shit, you're gonna be fucking losing it.

Don't be so sure.

[Charlie's probably right, though. He's been uncharacteristically unable to control himself in the last 24 hours. Still, of course he's going to have a ready retort like that, even as he slides his hand between them to unbuckle Charlie's belt.]

[He's completely wanton in the way he tilts his hips, pressing himself into Meyer's hand.]

Course I can be sure. I know every fucking thing about yous.

[Hearing those words from anyone else would scare the hell out of him, but hearing them from Charlie just feels right somehow. With Charlie's belt unbuckled, he's free to undo Charlie's pants, too, sliding a hand inside almost immediately.]

If you know me so well, what am I thinking right now?

[Admittedly, that shouldn't be hard to guess, from the way his fingers tangle in Charlie's hair and tug him down roughly for another kiss.]

[The way he's kissing him makes it very hard for Charlie to reply, because the last thing he wants to do is stop kissing long enough to talk.

Hands grip hard on Meyer's arms, pushing him back with all his power until Meyer knocks into the back of the sofa. He may like it against the wall, but it's not any fun without a little back and forth.]

[Being pushed back against the couch takes his breath away, not because Charlie's pushed him too hard, but because he's always enjoyed this kind of tussle. There's something inexplicably arousing about a power struggle, he's found. Maybe that's why, instead of trying to get the upper hand again, he's content for the time being to press his hips up towards Charlie's, pressing against him, grinding them together. And sure, maybe his nails are digging into Charlie's shoulder just a little, but that's half the fun, right?]

[He doesn't hold back the torrent of swear words he mumbles straight into Meyer's mouth, then. His lips wander down, nipping along his jawline and sucking hard on his neck.]

What'dya want, Meyer? You want me on my knees for yous right now?

[Now that's a question he could hear a million times and never get sick of. From the way his breath quickens a little at feeling Charlie's teeth on his jawline, and the way he pushes at Charlie's shoulder, practically guiding him to his knees, it's pretty obvious what the answer is. Still, for good measure, he nods.]

Yeah, that's what I want.

[The grin he sends Meyer's way as he sinks to his knees is positively wicked.

As much as he gives Meyer shit for it, he can be a tease sometimes too when he needs to be. Hands firm on Meyer's hips, he mouth along the outline of his cock through the fly of his trousers, not making any move to start undoing them yet.]

[Of course Charlie's going to choose this moment to be a tease; normally, Meyer's got practically endless patience, but after being so wound up and feeling so much aggression -- aggression which had immediately turned into pure lust the second he got into the house -- this is pretty well guaranteed to drive him crazy. That explains the way his hand practically flies to Charlie's hair, his grip tight and needy.]

[Meyer's grip is just a little too hard, a little too needy. His head tilts back from the force of it, his eyes locking with Meyer's.]

What'ya gonna do now, huh?

[He tilts his hips towards Charlie again, watching him intently.]

It's not about what I'm gonna do. It's about what you're gonna do, which is use that mouth for something other than talking.

[Although, admittedly, he's pretty fond of hearing Charlie talk, taunting and teasing and all. That doesn't mean he's above being demanding, and he's definitely not letting go of Charlie's hair.]

[A shiver goes down his spine, and he hates himself that his hands are shaking as he undoes Meyer's fly.

But still. Damn this is hot.]

[He notes the shaky hands, but doesn't comment on them. There's a time for him to be teasing, and this isn't it. Right now, he just feels like being downright demanding. Since Charlie's doing what he'd wanted, his loosens his grip on his hair a little, almost as a reward -- but not too loose. He's still determined to be in control here.]

[He unbuttons his fly enough to pull Meyer free from his underwear. He's half-hard already in his own trousers, but he's not going to do anything about that yet. They've done this enough times that Charlie knows the rules.

Fingers wrap around him, and his tongue dart out to lick from base to tip.]

You gonna talk whiles I do this?

[He likes it when Meyer talks, but he can't ask for it, not when he's on his knees. That isn't how this works.

But he does take him into his mouth, sucking him down without a trace of hesitance like he knows makes Meyer crazy.]

I know you want me to talk.

[Whether or not that means he's inclined to talk is anyone's guess. Sometimes he feels like giving Charlie what he wants. Sometimes he doesn't. It's all down to the kind of mood he's in, and this mood could go either way.

That doesn't mean he even bothers trying to stifle the moan as soon as Charlie's mouth is on him -- Charlie knows exactly how to make him crazy, and truth be told, he's not in the mood for holding back at the moment. That's probably why instead of just letting Charlie dive him crazy with his mouth and call all the shots, he begins to move his hips, pressing as deeply into his mouth as he can, running his fingers through Charlie's curls.]

Fuck.

[More expressive than normal, too, but then, he's been expressive from the moment he walked in the door, in one way or another.]

[Meyer starts setting the pace and god if it doesn't feel like Charlie's being dragged head first along for the ride. He moans around him as Meyer thrusts fully into his mouth. One hand reaches up, scrabbling for purchase and gripping hard into the fabric of Meyer's vest. He can only keep his mouth slack, breathing hard through his nose as Meyer fucks his face.]

Charlie...

[It's practically a whimper. Normally, he'd be trying to maintain some kind of dignity, because it's almost always more fun when Charlie has to try to drag those noises out of him. There's not any of that self-control here, though. Charlie had been pretty much right in his prediction -- he's not able to hold back, nor is he able to resist making his pace just a bit faster, tightening his hand in Charlie's hair as he does.]

[He's not moaning now, only bitten off little grunts as he focuses hard on taking Meyer down as far as he can. His hand is still scrambling at Meyer's chest, fingernails sinking deep enough for Meyer to feel them, and hard, he's sure.

He can't help the feeling the pride that swells through him, too. They haven't even got to the fucking yet and Meyer's begging for it. Damn he's good.]

[He'd never argue with Charlie's assessment of being good, not when he's able to use his mouth like that and not when Charlie's nails bite into his skin like that, even through his clothes. It's almost too good, putting him far too close to losing control entirely, and so it's with reluctance that he tugs Charlie away and looks down at him, eyes dark and intent as ever.]

C'mon. I wanna fuck you.

[There's very little precision in his words -- he's almost slurring his speech -- but he thinks his point is well made.]

[He looks completely lewd as he runs the back of his hand along his mouth. And based on the way he's locking eyes with Meyer as he does means he probably knows it, too.]

Yeah. Fuck yeah.

[He's using Meyer's jacket to pull himself up, chests flush together. Your move, Meyer.]

[He has to take a deep breath to steady himself, and then he's practically shoving Charlie away, but only for the sake of directing him where he wants him to go.]

Get on the couch.

[It's definitely a demand, and he finally shrugs off his jacket. He doesn't seem inclined to remove anything else, though. The jacket's enough, for now.]

[Charlie's hand goes to the fly of his own trousers, palming himself as Meyer manhandles him towards the couch.]

Front or back?

[He's breathing hard enough now that talking's becoming difficult, but fuck it he would really like Meyer to keep using that voice on him.]

[It's hard for him to conjure up anything other than that voice, at the moment, so it's probably for the best that Charlie wants him to keep using it. He practically shoves Charlie back onto the couch cushions, a far too devilish smile on his face.]

Lie down on your back. I wanna see your face.

[He lets himself get shoved down, landing on the couch with a small 'oof'. A hand tangles hard into Meyer's necktie, jerking him in for a searing kiss. Hey, just cause he's the one getting bossed around doesn't mean he can't be a little rough back.]

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