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Thought you said yous was gonna fuck me.

[He's squirming hard under him, but biting back any whimpers, still.]

I seem to recall telling you to ask nicely.

[Maybe what Charlie needs is another finger added to the mix, then, while his other hand holds Charlie's hip tightly, fingers dug in. The hand might be gripping hard, but it's also serving the purpose of pinning Charlie slightly -- not much, but enough so that he can feel like he's in control here.]

[His hand grips around Meyer's neck again as he holds back the urge to groan hard.]

I don't gotta ask. I know how bads you fucking want it.

Yeah, maybe. But I could do this all day.

[That's true, partially. But it's also true that the hand around his neck pretty much has him groaning, too. He's not sure he should enjoy that quite as much as he does, but he's not questioning it, because he's too damn busy trying to get that groan out of Charlie that he knows he's suppressing.]

[The best he can do is turn it into a sharp gasp in when Meyer moves his fingers.]

Fuck.

[Goddammit, he wasn't meant to let that one slip. He retaliates by digging his fingers in further and rocking into Meyer's cock again.]

Come on, Meyer. Fuck me.

[Now that's what he was waiting to hear. He pulls his fingers away almost suddenly, repositioning himself, propping one of Charlie's legs up on his shoulder. It doesn't take much for him to drag Charlie a little closer to him, line himself up, and then press into him, slowly. It'd be hard to call it exactly gentle, though, what with the hard grip he has on Charlie's hip.]

This what you wanted?

[Given the stream of expletives Charlie rattles off as he's sunk into, the answer is probably yes.

One hand grips hard onto Meyer's ass, digging in hard as he presses into him.]

Yeah. That's what I fucking wanted.

Good, because I'm gonna make you scream.

[He doesn't usually say things like that, but then again, he's not always so aggressive, either. Today, it's apparent that he's not particularly interested in holding anything back. That's probably down to how the trip to Atlantic City had gone. He leans forward a little, putting one hand on Charlie's chest, putting a significant amount of weight on him. He doesn't know why, but he feels the need to hold Charlie down somehow.]

[He uses the hand on Meyer's ass to push him forward, encouraging him.]

Fucking hot when you talks like that, Meyer.

[He laughs almost breathlessly, picking up the pace a little, spurred on by that encouraging hand. It had initially been his intention to take this slower, to draw it out, but he finds that he's incapable of that, making his movements fast and rough. Somehow, he doubts Charlie's complaining.]

[Oh, he really really isn't. There is nothing to complain about when Meyer is pinning him down and fucking him hard enough that he knows he's not going to be able to walk straight for days.

He closes his eyes, fingernails still digging into Meyer's skin, and lets himself get lost in it.]

[At any other time, he'd probably be trying to hold back the torrent of quiet but intense swearing that makes its way out of his mouth now, but now all he can do is let every single one of those words out, vaguely wondering if he's gripping Charlie's shoulder too hard, if he's leaving marks. There's a moment where he's inclined to close his eyes, too, but he keeps them open, watching Charlie intently, every little noise and movement, trying to gauge just the right way to make him go absolutely crazy.]

[He opens his eyes again, locking with them with Meyer's and fuck... the intensity there, he feels like he could come right here and now from that looks alone.

He runs his thumb along Meyer's lower lip, silent permission to put his fingers inside Meyer's mouth.]

[As soon as Charlie opens his eyes and looks at him, he has to let out a little gasp, because no matter how much they do this, he's never going to get used to how goddamned perfect Charlie looks, and how goddamned good he feels.

He parts his lips slightly, granting permission, although at the moment, he's pretty sure he'd be willing to grant permission to just about anything Charlie wanted to do -- no sense in telling him that, though, since he's still trying to pretend like he's the one in control here.]

[He plunges two fingers into Meyer's mouth, not caring much about subtly any more.]

Fuck I love seeing you get wound up when you fuck me like this, Meyer.

[It's too much, he can feel little shocks going up and down his spine every time Meyer pounds into him and we wants to come so badly it's driving him crazy.]

Touch me.

[As soon as Charlie thrusts his fingers into his mouth, he's sucking on them, using his tongue on them like it was Charlie's cock instead of his fingers. He'd probably respond to Charlie's comment were his mouth not otherwise occupied, but all he can manage is a groan around Charlie's fingers, an acknowledgement that he is, indeed, extremely worked up.

When he reaches down to wrap his hand around Charlie's cock and touch him as requested, he doesn't waste any time -- no starting slow, no teasing, just a quick, steady pace to match the movements of his hips.]

[That's the fucking stuff. He's arching his back off the couch again, and there's no way he can keep his eyes open now, not like this.]

Meyer. I'm gonna come.

[Anyone else might now be able to make the words out, given how hard Charlie's breathing, but he knows Meyer knows him well enough.]

[If he didn't have Charlie's fingers in his mouth, he might be whispering encouragements, but for now, he can only moan in response -- although he's pretty sure that that counts as encouragement, too, when combined with the way his pace in stroking Charlie doesn't slow at all.

The pleasure's threatening to overcome him, too, but there's no way he's going to let it until he gets Charlie to break apart entirely.]

[Charlie's had many slow, luxurious orgasms, that wash through him like a warm wave leaving him tingly and content.

This isn't one of them.

It hits him hard, nerve ending exploding and feeling so much pleasure it borders on the edge of painful. Meyer gets his wish after all - he does let out a low scream, the hand still in his back digging in hard and the fingers in his mouth curling against the roof of his mouth in pleasure.]

[For a moment, it's all he can do just to stare at Charlie, almost unable to comprehend just how Charlie can look so perfect, but it's not like he can hold out for long, not when he hears that scream.

When he comes, it's just as hard, nails digging into Charlie's hip and teeth biting down on his fingers, trying with all his might not to bite too hard, but unable to avoid it entirely. It's not a scream that comes out of him so much as drawn out whimper.]

[He waits until he can feel the last little shocks of Meyer's orgasm passing through him, then pulls him down to bite at his shoulder. Followed by a kiss of course. And then a few more playful nips at his neck.]

Fuck haven't come that hard in fucking ages.

[So maybe he looks just a bit smug. He's still in a good mood, after all. Although the fact that he hasn't slept for 36 hours is starting to hit him, so he nearly collapses on top of Charlie. He's suddenly aware of the fact that he's still wearing most of his clothes and that the room now feels extremely warm.]

Yeah, me too.

[Meyer may be a solid little fucker, but he wouldn't try to dislodge him for the world right now. He loves this feeling - sated and tingly and a little bit crushed under someone's weight.]

You didn't sleep none last night, did yous?

Is it that obvious?

[The answer is probably yes. The jitteriness, the aggression, those are always dead giveaways for him.]

I did something better than sleeping.

Sure.

How abouts we sleep now, huh?

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