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[Charlie is just going for broke and shoves both hands down the back of Meyer's boxer shorts to get a good firm grip on his ass. Ah, there's the stuff.]

[As long as Charlie isn't trying to get the boxer shorts off entirely, he'll let that groping happen. He's not going to be entirely naked in front of everyone, though, so the underwear're staying on. Besides, he's returning the favor by grabbing Charlie's ass, too -- although there're a lot more clothes in the way there.]

[With the firm grip he's got on Meyer's butt, it's only too easy to pull him down with him onto the chair and keep kissing him.

Now that it's clear the strip show is over, their friends disperse. Which is even better for ridiculous make-outs.]

[Ridiculous make-outs indeed -- he's not even protested being pulled down onto the chair, nor does he seem to be breaking away from the kissing anytime soon. If anything, his kisses are particularly passionate, if a little bit sloppy.]

[Charlie's kissing back with an equal amount of gusto and bad coordination, hands roaming along the naked skin of Meyer's back before dipping back down inside his underwear.]

Remind me to get you a stripper pole for your birthday, huh?

There isn't even anywhere good in the apartment to put a stripper pole.

[Yes, that's his concern.]

And my birthday isn't for a really long time.

[Also a concern.]

And I'm not about to take up stripping as an actual habit.

[But maybe he'll give Charlie more private shows. Or something. Those hands on his butt are awfully distracting.]

Early birthday present. And it can go in the living room.

Yeah, that's a really classy addition to the decor.

[He wants more kisses. He also kind of wants to give Charlie a lap dance. What the hell is going on in his mind?]

[He would actively encourage the lap dance. In the fact, the way he's rocking Meyer down onto his lap with those hands on his ass is probably a good sign of how much he'd be into it.]

[Well, if Charlie's encouraging it, he's really powerless to resist the urge, isn't he? Besides, he's practically naked as it is; what else is he supposed to do with it? So your lap dance begins now, Charlie -- not that he exactly knows what he's doing, but he figures it involves a whole lot of moving his hips and ass, right?]

[Sure, it's not the most skilled or coordinated lap dance, but it's Meyer doing it which makes it infinitely better. Hands wander up and down his sides, coming up to tweak a nipple in between kisses.

And in case you were wonder, Meyer, that is not a roll of quarters in his pocket.]

I thought you weren't supposed to touch people when they were giving you a lap dance.

[That probably just goes for the professionals around here, though, and not him. And he's not really complaining, either -- Charlie can touch him as much as he wants (well, within reason, wherever the line of reason is at the moment.) Besides, right now he's far too busy rocking his hips into Charlie's lap, because getting him turned on is just too much fun.]

Could say the same to you.

[Meyer rocks down onto his erection and he has to lean in and bite Meyer's shoulder to temper the whimper he so desperately needs to let out.]

You're not complaining about it.

[And he's not complaining about having his shoulder bitten, either. He'd be crazy to complain about being bitten. On the other hand, he is getting a handful of Charlie's hair for the purpose of tilting his head back for another kiss. Yep, he could do this all day.]

[Meyer may want to do this all day, but Charlie is pretty sure he doesn't want to come in his pants in a seedy strip club, which is kinda where this is going now.

Although he's not going to do anything to stop the kiss, yet. He's not crazy.]

[What about the bathroom at a seedy strip club? How does he feel about that? Because until Charlie tells him to get up and go away, he's not going anywhere. He kind of wants another drink - or, hell, some more coke -- but that'd require getting up, and Charlie's lap is just too comfortable.]

[Bathroom is acceptable, but he'd like to take off his pants for that, or at least derobe the important areas.]

C'mon.

[He's mumbling against Meyer's mouth, because pulling away seems pretty unreasonable right now.]

Bathroom.

[But getting up off of Charlie's lap requires moving. He very reluctantly starts to squirm away, finally, but he'd be half tempted to tell Charlie he was just going to have to carry him, if he thought Charlie was at all capable of doing so.]

Okay.

[He's grabbing a drink off of the table and draining it in one gulp, realizing only afterwards that it probably belonged to someone else. Oh well. Time to unsteadily wobble towards the bathroom.]

[He may not be able to carry him, but he is manhandling him on top of the counter as soon as they're inside. The door doesn't lock, so he's shoving the garbage can in front of the door and going straight back to where he left off trying to explore every nook and cranny of Meyer's mouth with his tongue.]

[Normally, the door not locking would bother him, and he'd shove Charlie away, but not at the moment. Right now, he's just content to be shoved onto the counter so that he can kiss Charlie back, unable to keep his hands from roaming everywhere, not stopping in one place for too long. Charlie's still wearing so damn many clothes, but at least he can get his hands under his shirt.]

[Charlie will help with some of those clothes problems. His hands are going to his belt, undoing his fly and pulling his cock free, followed by the same thing for Meyer. He doesn't have much patience for anything too complicated right now, and as soon as he has both their cocks in his hand it feels like the greatest thing in the world.]

[Patience isn't exactly on his mind right now. He'd try to help Charlie with his belt, or at least something, but he can't seem to pull his hands out of Charlie's shirt for long enough to do so. Should he be worried about someone walking in? Probably, but that tiny thought is wiped aside as soon as Charlie takes ahold of both of them, because now the only thing he's concentrating on is how good Charlie's hand feels. That's probably why he's already moaning so demonstratively. That, or the drugs. Or both.]

[Charlie ruts into the circle of his hand, brushing together, mouth latched onto his neck. He's not interested in drawing this out, just in feeling all of Meyer he can in this short time.]

[He's making a whole lot more noise than he really should be, considering their location at the moment, but he really can't help it. It's hard to believe anything could feel better than this, right now, and he's practically thrusting into Charlie's hand.]

[Those noises are intoxicating. Charlie keeps kissing him and nipping at his skin in turn, trying to get him to make as many as he can.]

Yeah, come on, Meyer. God you fucking love it.

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