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[That is just too damn cocky not to respond to, really. He's got his hands firm enough on Meyer ass that rolling them is only too easy. He just loves the way Meyer looks like this - laid out underneath him and flushed and breathing heavily.

Except one thing could make it better...

He reaches up, bring his hands around Meyer's wrists to pin them ore his head. Ah yes. Perfect.]

Fucking brat.

[And he's not above arching his back just a little, really showing himself off to full advantage, because if Charlie's going to have his hands trapped like that -- he'll pretend to struggle against his grip, but not really for the sake of breaking free -- he might as well look good while he's pinned here.]

Yeah, yeah, you've been calling me that for years.

Cause it's still fucking true.

[Although the jump and the strain of Meyer's muscles when he flexes like that looks too good not to lean down and bite at gently. When he leans back up to speak finally his voice is low, husky.]

Keep you arms up there.

[Will wonders never cease? He's doing as he's told and not complaining about it, keeping his arms above his head, eyes intent on Charlie.]

I guess 'cause it's your birthday, I can do that.

[Well, mostly not complaining. And gasping a little at those bites.]

[With his hands free, he can let them trail down to Meyer's thighs, spreading them open and settling between them. Meyer is being so well behaved, and he can't help but want to reward him for it, leaning in to kiss and bite at the skin between his thighs.]

That's what I call a fucking birthday present.

[At last he loses patience for teasing, and fingers trail down to circle gentle at his entrance.]

Glad you like it.

[Not that coming up with this kind of birthday present took much forethought, on his part. He hadn't planned for Charlie to be here, after all, but even if it hadn't been Charlie's birthday, he's pretty sure he would have wanted to keep him in bed just about the whole weekend.

The bites make him catch his breath a little in anticipation, but not nearly as much as Charlie's fingers do. It's been far too long since he's had anything like this, and he's pretty sure he's about five seconds away from begging for it, which would be pretty damned embarrassing.]

[Oh, Meyer begging for anything would be the best birthday present imaginable.

He has to pause to lick his fingers into his mouth, and then he's back, teasing and rubbing and eventually slipping one finger inside.]

You had anyone else fuck you in this place?

Yeah, but it hasn't been...

[Well, it hasn't been that frequent, and it hasn't been as good as it is with Charlie, but really, does Charlie need to feel more cocky about his particular abilities? But then Charlie has a finger inside of him and all of a sudden he wants to senselessly praise him, because it feels too damn good to keep his mouth shut.]

... it hasn't been the same.

[There. That's pretty close to a compliment. Charlie'll understand.]

[He wasn't prepared for the way that sends his heart suddenly and violently springing up his throat. Maybe he hasn't been thinking about it, maybe he's been trying to keep it from his mind. But it hits him, now, of all the times. Meyer's been here. Without him. For nine months.

Suddenly the sex doesn't seem like enough. He wants to pull up close to him and hold on as tight as he can because they're not supposed to be separated, that's not the way the world WORKS and it's cruel and unusual to make it so. And maybe if he hangs out tight enough...

But instead he just crooks his finger, wanting to remind Meyer just how good they really are together.]

Yeah. S'never the same, is it?

No, it never is.

[There're so many other things he'd like to say in response to that: that he'd given up ever trying to have it be the same, and had settled for good enough; that he knew he wasn't getting out of here anytime soon, and that Charlie wouldn't remember any of this once he went back home anyway; that he selfishly wishes Charlie could stay for longer. But saying any of that kind of defeats the purpose of being here now, and of trying to enjoy each other like this, so he just settles for saying what he did, voice a little breathless.

And then Charlie crooks his finger and he's not really thinking about any of that anymore, or at least, he's pushing it all to the back of his brain to concentrate on just how perfect this feels, and how he's lifting his hips towards Charlie wordlessly and greedily, wanting more.]

Fuck you're fucking beautiful.

[The amount Charlie is swearing is probably indicative of how turned on he is right now. He can't help but reach down and touch himself, stroking himself quickly and firmly as he works in a second finger.]

You got oil or something?

[Meyer may have kept busy here, but it's clearly been long enough and the last thing he wants to do it hurt him.]

Bedside table drawer...

[About five seconds after he says it, he realizes that there's a whole lot of other stuff in that bedside table drawer, too, but hey, he's had to entertain himself somehow, and one of the things the future's apparently pretty great at is coming up with accessories for every sexual thing imaginable.

And it's probably a combination of that and of watching Charlie touching himself that has him blushing so red all of a sudden.]

[God you're cute, Meyer.

He has to take his fingers out to go rifle through his bedside drawer, and yes, Charlie would like to take a little more time to go through all that some time later. He finds a likely bottle and squeezes some fluid onto his hands. That'll certainly work. He anoints his own cock, grinning down at Meyer as he settled back in between his legs and lines himself up.]

Got yourself a hobby, huh?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

[It would probably be pretty easy to say that with a straight face if they were in a different situation than the one they're in right now, but he never can maintain a lie too well at a moment like this. The blush isn't going anywhere any time soon.]

It gets boring around here. I had to do something.

[Some people take up birdwatching or knitting. He explores the wonderful world of modern sex toys. It's all valid, as far as he's concerned. And right now his gaze is just fixated on Charlie, watching his every move, practically shaking with anticipation as Charlie gets himself ready.]

[A hand comes under Meyer's thigh, lifting his leg up to give him a better angle . With his free hand he lines himself up, and...

Nothing ever feels as good at this - sinking into Meyer's body, feeling him hot and tight and entirely around him, taking him down. Charlie can't help but moan loudly.

God, Meyer, you feel so fucking good.

[He's certain this feels good for Charlie -- it must, from the way Charlie's moaning and swearing -- but he can't help but think that it must feel even better for him, since he hasn't had anything from Charlie in months and months.]

Fuck, Charlie, feels so... that's so fucking...

[Nope, don't expect him to be making much sense for a couple minutes, here. He's way too busy grabbing at Charlie's shoulders and back and lifting his hips up against him, eyes sliding shut from the pleasure.]

[At this point, drawing this out would be torture. He can't bring himself when Meyer looks this beautiful, when he's talking and swearing like this.

He just hitches his leg up, and starts a a hard, steady rhythm. Meyer is holding him and bringing him in so close, he can't help but lean down and kiss him.]

[Now that he's started making noise, he can't seem to stop -- everything that comes out of his mouth is Charlie's name, or swearing, or both, interspersed together. His eyes are still squeezed shut, but he kisses Charlie back hungrily, moaning against his mouth, nails digging into his back. He just can't get enough of how good this feels, of how much he's missed it.]

[The fingernails on his back are matched with the marks Charlie's own hands are leaving on Meyer's thigh. Each thrust into him in coming harder, coupled with a tight squeeze on the sensitive flesh between his legs.]

Fucking hell, that's the fucking stuff, Meyer. Come on, show me how bad you wanted it.

[The only thing he'll get is a responding whimper, and him tugging Charlie a little closer so that he can bury his face in his shoulder, alternating between little bites and sloppy, opened mouthed kisses, but that's probably a good indication of how bad he wanted it. That and the way he's lifting his hips to meet every single one of Charlie's thrusts, and the way he knows that there's no chance he's going to be able to draw this out for much longer.

That's probably why he pulls his face away from Charlie's shoulder to lock eyes with him for a moment, breathless and more or less speechless, pretty sure he looks like a desperate mess.]

[He sure does. A desperate, fucking beautiful mess. Charlie keeps his eyes locked with meyer's as he reaches between them and takes his cock in hand, pumping him in time.]

Fuck you look so fucking good right now love fucking seeing you like this. C'mon, you better be fucking ready to come soon.

[All it really takes is the addition of that hand, the way Charlie's touching him and moving inside of him, and he's falling apart entirely, muscles tensing and straining as he lets the feelings wash over him, not trying to stop himself from coming, not trying to stay quiet in the least bit. His nails are biting into Charlie's shoulder, hard, and he's babbling something that he's pretty sure is entirely nonsensical, and the sensations just seem to keep hitting him.]

[It's all he can do to hold out himself, but he's so enraptured by how Meyer looks right now that he can barely even tell what his own body is doing. all the sensations are rolling into one big balls, and all that matters in the world is that Meyer is losing it and letting go because of him.

He holds Meyer tight until he stops shaking, kissing him and mumbling little words of nothing in Italian under his breath.

At last he feels he can ease out, his own cock still hard and hot between them. He takes himself in hand, jerking over Meyer's body with quick intent.]

[Everything seems a little foggy around the edges, everything feels so warm and pleasant, but his eyes are still intent on Charlie, even as he sinks back into the bed, muscles completely relaxed.]

C'mon...

[He's still a little breathless, but he urges Charlie on anyway, because he can't think of a sight he likes much better than seeing Charlie touch himself like that, than seeing the pleasure on his face and hearing his mumbled little words. His hand tangles into Charlie's hair as always, still greedy for any kind of touch.]

[He comes with a choked off moan, leaning his weight in on one hand and spilling himself onto Meyer's stomach.]

Jesus fucking Christ, Meyer.

[He collapses beside him at last, breathing heavily, a giant grin on his face.]

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