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[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.]

[He smiles, his grin matching Charlie's, looking completely silly, he's sure.]

Happy birthday. Was that an okay present?

I thinks sos, yeah.

[C'mere for a second, he needs a kiss. He pulls Meyer in closer, not caring about the mess just yet.]

Your coffee's gonna get cold.

[The coffee he'd brought in has probably been cold for awhile, but he can't resist saying it, always falling back into the comfortable pattern of teasing Charlie. Still, he's happy to scoot closer, and even happier to kiss back.]

I can waits on coffee.

[He mumbles against Meyer's mouth, pausing to grin in between.]

Could use a smoke.

You could always use a smoke.

[Not that he's one to talk. But hey, look, cigarettes are a thing he can provide. He just has to pull away for a second, but he'll be back with two cigarettes soon enough, and he was even nice enough to light Charlie's for him. What a courteous ~~boyfriend~~ partner.]

[You're the best, Meyer.

The cigarettes here taste funny, and Charlie has to pause for a moment to make a face at it. But nicotine is nicotine, and he can feel it calming his nerves right away.]

What else someone supposed to do after fucking, huh?

[Rolling his eyes at Charlie's face. C'mon, it's a cigarette, there's nothing to complain about. And then a shrug.]

I dunno. Smoke and then fuck again?

Now there's an ideas.

[He brings his hand over to rest affectionately on Meyer's thigh as he laughs.]

You gots the rest of the day planned out or some shit?

Yeah, something like that. In that I don't have any plans.

[Which means he can totally stay in bed all day, right? Right.]

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