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[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.

[If he wanted more noises, that's what he's going to get, completely unrestrained and unabashed. Yeah, he's going to be embarrassed about this later, if he remembers it at all, but for this moment, the only thing in the world might as well be Charlie's hand, and the way he's kissing him and biting at him, and the way he seems to want to touch every little bit of Charlie's skin, so he's got one hand under Charlie's shirt and one hand tangled in his hair, holding him close.]

[He was already pretty damn worked up from the lap dance, and it doesn't take him long. He thrusts a few more times against him, coming with a choked off sob. He keeps mumbling against Meyer's skin, whispering his name over and over again as his nerve endings explode around him.]

[After that, it's not like it can possibly take him long either, not when Charlie's still touching him and still whispering his name like that, and he doesn't try to hold back at all, nor does he try to silence the near-shout that escapes his mouth when he comes. It hits him harder than he'd been expecting it to, and he can't even be bothered by the fact that it sounds like someone's trying to open the bathroom door, because who cares, anyway? Nothing matters as much as feeling like this does.]

God I love it when you scream, man.

[Charlie mumbles against Meyer's mouth, kissing him slowly and lazily as they both come down.]

I dunno if that qualified as a scream...

[Contradictory to the last, although who really cares what it qualified as, because he's still the one who's sitting on the counter practically naked, and where the hell are his pants, anyway?]

[In the main room with the rest of your clothes, obviously. Charlie is just going to grab some paper towel and wipe them both off. Meyer not wearing a shirt certainly makes clean-up easier.]

This was a pretty damn good birthday present.

Yeah, well, you're welcome. I have other presents for you, too, but they're back home.

[Yes, he actually bought you a present that wasn't sex. He's so thoughtful.]

Yeah? What'd you get me?

I'm not gonna tell you what I got you. You have to unwrap it and stuff. But it's a good gift. A really good gift.

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