DEATHWATCH FIC: THIRD PART OF MAN 2/2
May. 29th, 2011 06:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poziomeczkaPART 2 OF THIS MONSTROSITY. I WON'T BE MAD IF YOU DEFRIEND ME.
He swallows MacNess again, moaning encouragingly at his shallow thrusts.
"Do you know, MacNess" Doc says, breaking the heated silence of their panting breaths. It's far from being a question, the tone almost conversational, but even Charlie can tell there's a tremor in his voice, and moments later, Fairweather withdraws his fingers only to replace them with the blunt head of his wet ---slicked with Charlie's come-- cock and he can feel his hole, eager, wanting, pulsing in response.
"Do you know MacNess--", Fairweather repeats, rasping this time as he pushes in, making Charlie shake like a newborn colt. "Do you know he whines for you when the others fuck him?"
And Charlie wishes he had it in him to protest, but all he can do is moan, in some perverse combination of humiliation and pride, and suck MacNess with renewed enthusiasm. In confirmation.
"He whines for you every—ah--time", Doc gasps, as his hips surge deep inside Charlie's greedy little hole and the boy keens, low and long in his throat. Yes, yes, yes more, he needs more of this "He whines for you like a little bitch."
Fairweather starts rocking his hips in earnest now, stretching Charlie open on his dick, sending him flying forward, straight into MacNess. It's too much, too much sensation with MacNess's musky scent overwhelming him and Doc pounding into him, his normally caring hands pressing marks into his sides. It's good, so good with MacNess's rasping, harsh breaths above him and Doc murmuring nonsense into his skin as he ruts with sharp stabbing thrusts, not even pulling out anymore, his left hand drifting from its tight grip on Charlie's hipbone, to the boy's shoulder to clasp onto, pushing him back onto his cock, and Charlie can feel his consciousness slipping from him.
MacNess tugs at his hair urgently and tears himself away, and Charlie sobs out his disapproval, not even aware he's doing it.
It's not until then that it hits him what he's been lacking. He inhales suddenly, gulps down deep, frantic breaths through his mouth, and the icy spikes of oxygen scratch his lungs, the world sharpening up around him again.
MacNess kneels down in the dirt, right in front of him and, no no no, it's all wrong now Charlie thinks feverishly. He wants it he needs it, he wants MacNess where he was and he's going to be good, he promises, he really will be---
The man laughs, sinks both of his large calloused hands back into the boy's hair.
"Breathe, you idiot" he says, kissing up Charlie's temple and brow, a peck on the side of his freckled nose.
With a furious jolt of his hips, Fairweather sends him crashing into the solid plane of the Scotsman's chest. Charlie's shaking arms, finely muscled for someone so young, give out and he nearly falls face-first into the dirt, but MacNess catches him, like he always does, and Charlie wraps his arms around him tightly, anchoring himself, cheek pressed against MacNess's neck, nested between the juncture between his neck and shoulder. And Charlie clings to him, doing his best to push back into Doc, proud of the harsh hisses he gets in return and he pants, an open-mouthed puff of air against McNess's sweaty shoulder as Fairweather leans in, covers him back to chest, mouthing blindly at the moles on the flushed skin of Charlie's back and rams repeatedly into his prostate, relentless. Sharp, white sparks of pleasure down his spine. He writhes and keens with it.
"Yes. Fuck it, yes please fuck it. Yesyesyesyeys. Fuck it. Please, fuck. Please please more", it spills out of him in a litany of pleas and curses. "Please, I can take it. Icantakeit. Harderharder nnghhh please p-please".
MacNess holds him tight, nibbles at his ear, strokes his hair, murmurs little encouragements, keeps him awake, conscious whenever he starts to slip out of it. Doc's pace falters and he comes with a groan, shoots deep inside the tight heat and his hands slip on Charlie's sweat-slicked skin, Charlie gropes behind him, squeezing Doc's arse, pushing him deeper, riding it out with him. Fairweather slumps against the boy, worn out with the extent of his pleasure. He leaves small biting kissed down Charlie's back as he withdraws with an obscene wet pop and Charlie misses him already.
"Such a good boy, Charlie" Doc says and he can hear the wide, sated smile in his voice.
MacNess grabs him by the buttocks, come oozing out of him, pulling him onto his lap, and Charlie doesn't hesitate, climbs all over him like a litter of kittens, wrapping his limbs around him and rising his hips eagerly to take MacNess's dick in. To sink down in one smooth stride. But MacNess has other plans apparently, as he grabs his narrow hips, keeps him in place, settling them both comfortably and wraps a hand around them both, stroking them in a practiced, steady rhythm.
"Nonnononono", Charlie protests, his voice breaking. "Nono. MacNess. I want you. I want you deep. Please."
"Charlie, Charlie--" he starts, more than a little shaken.
And Charlie topples them over, earning a gasp of surprise, pushing MacNess's back into the dirt, and he slides down, in one smooth motion, his body content and open for MacNess. He sighs happily as it fills him perfectly, setting each and every nerve alight. MacNess chokes on a breath, arching underneath him, overwhelmed, and Charlie looks down at him with wide, adoring eyes, and MacNess meets them and there's so much frustration about this boy, this wonderful boy that just crawled into his life, giving and demanding and giving a shit about him for a change, and there is so much love, so much much love in those gray eyes that Charlie can't help but screw his own shut in defence. Feeling like he's bound to burst into flames under that heated gaze.
He starts to move, rocking his hips steadily in sweet low-burning torture, relishing in the feeling. How full, how good it feels. That's where MacNess should be, that's where he should always be---
"How would we walk?", MacNess breathes out a weak laugh, and Charlie realizes he must have said that aloud.
"We'd find a way", Charlie retorts, his face pinched in concentration as he lifts himself up and falls back down, finding a pace. His own neglected cock throbs painfully as it leaves trails over MacNess's belly, and Charlie rides him, sucking in his plump lower lip, eyes thinning out, exquisite in his ecstasy. MacNess meets him, thrust for thrust, clutching at the boy's sides as Charlie claws down his chest, wilder with each forceful push that sets him aflame, growling low and feral in his throat, beyond language.
"God, Charlie", MacNess whispers, in awe, and his large hands travel up, leaving the boy's hips, pinching a nipple, squeezing his thin shoulder as this goddamn kid, that will clearly be the death of him, goes into a frenzy. "So fucking beautiful, god I-- you drive me fucking nuts---"
He reaches for Charlie's blushing cock, boyishly plump, a decent size for someone who's had maybe two proper growth spurts to his name, and tugs, but the boy bats his hand away.
"No", Charlie says, hoarse, like speaking goes through him, his voice eerie to both MacNess and his own ears. "I can---I want---"
Just this., he wants to say. Wants to tell MacNess that this is the happiest he's ever been. That this is enough to erase all the others. Erase Starinsky, Quinn, Tate, Hawkstone. Erase Jennings's clumsy fumblings and Doc's caring, gentle hands. Make it all invalid. Like, like a do over. Make it good. Make it just them. So he can kiss MacNess under an apple tree like he's dreamt of doing, and squeeze his large hand when they go visit his wife's grave.
And if he can come. Just on this. Maybe somehow all of this can happen. They can be enough.
He does, nuts off like a rocket, howling his release as MacNess grabs him by the hips again, his thumbs settling in the little groves just above his arse, and flips them over. Kissing Charlie deep, taking everything there is to take, everything Charlie offers. They shudder together, fucking out their aftershocks, surging through them like darts. They gasp in each other's mouths with MacNess rubbing gentle circles into the boy's bruised hips, fascinating patterns of purple already starting to blossom. He places a single sweet kiss to the middle of his sweaty, rapidly cooling chest, and Charlie's eyes flutter shut despite his best efforts.
When he wakes, not long after, he can tell from the heaviness of his eyelids, he's warm and more comfortable that he's been in what feels like a lifetime. He's wrapped in a blanket and clumsily dressed in his too-big clothes, his head lolled back on MacNess's shoulder. He swallows, his throat dry and sore from all the screaming. MacNess smiles above him, his prickly beard tickling his forehead, and he smiles back shimmering with happiness and reaches to pet it affectionately.
"Thank you", he says, hearfelt, and knows that he would never be able to muster the words to convey what he means, but he thinks that MacNess understands him, comprehends what this is as Charlie hears him swallow silently.
He checks his surroundings through his lashes, and realizes that the other warmth comes from the doctor, that he's tucked safely between them and he raises his head sleepily, his hand stroking Doc's cheek, and he moves to kiss him chastely on the lips.
"You're welcome", Doc says, winking and answering Charlie's cheeky grin with his own. "Least I could do".
And Charlie reclines, his back melting in the heat of MacNess's wide tartan-clad chest, his legs across Fairweather's knees, and he drifts into his dreams of dwarfish apple trees and wide Scottish fields as Doc and MacNess whisper together well into the night.
He swallows MacNess again, moaning encouragingly at his shallow thrusts.
"Do you know, MacNess" Doc says, breaking the heated silence of their panting breaths. It's far from being a question, the tone almost conversational, but even Charlie can tell there's a tremor in his voice, and moments later, Fairweather withdraws his fingers only to replace them with the blunt head of his wet ---slicked with Charlie's come-- cock and he can feel his hole, eager, wanting, pulsing in response.
"Do you know MacNess--", Fairweather repeats, rasping this time as he pushes in, making Charlie shake like a newborn colt. "Do you know he whines for you when the others fuck him?"
And Charlie wishes he had it in him to protest, but all he can do is moan, in some perverse combination of humiliation and pride, and suck MacNess with renewed enthusiasm. In confirmation.
"He whines for you every—ah--time", Doc gasps, as his hips surge deep inside Charlie's greedy little hole and the boy keens, low and long in his throat. Yes, yes, yes more, he needs more of this "He whines for you like a little bitch."
Fairweather starts rocking his hips in earnest now, stretching Charlie open on his dick, sending him flying forward, straight into MacNess. It's too much, too much sensation with MacNess's musky scent overwhelming him and Doc pounding into him, his normally caring hands pressing marks into his sides. It's good, so good with MacNess's rasping, harsh breaths above him and Doc murmuring nonsense into his skin as he ruts with sharp stabbing thrusts, not even pulling out anymore, his left hand drifting from its tight grip on Charlie's hipbone, to the boy's shoulder to clasp onto, pushing him back onto his cock, and Charlie can feel his consciousness slipping from him.
MacNess tugs at his hair urgently and tears himself away, and Charlie sobs out his disapproval, not even aware he's doing it.
It's not until then that it hits him what he's been lacking. He inhales suddenly, gulps down deep, frantic breaths through his mouth, and the icy spikes of oxygen scratch his lungs, the world sharpening up around him again.
MacNess kneels down in the dirt, right in front of him and, no no no, it's all wrong now Charlie thinks feverishly. He wants it he needs it, he wants MacNess where he was and he's going to be good, he promises, he really will be---
The man laughs, sinks both of his large calloused hands back into the boy's hair.
"Breathe, you idiot" he says, kissing up Charlie's temple and brow, a peck on the side of his freckled nose.
With a furious jolt of his hips, Fairweather sends him crashing into the solid plane of the Scotsman's chest. Charlie's shaking arms, finely muscled for someone so young, give out and he nearly falls face-first into the dirt, but MacNess catches him, like he always does, and Charlie wraps his arms around him tightly, anchoring himself, cheek pressed against MacNess's neck, nested between the juncture between his neck and shoulder. And Charlie clings to him, doing his best to push back into Doc, proud of the harsh hisses he gets in return and he pants, an open-mouthed puff of air against McNess's sweaty shoulder as Fairweather leans in, covers him back to chest, mouthing blindly at the moles on the flushed skin of Charlie's back and rams repeatedly into his prostate, relentless. Sharp, white sparks of pleasure down his spine. He writhes and keens with it.
"Yes. Fuck it, yes please fuck it. Yesyesyesyeys. Fuck it. Please, fuck. Please please more", it spills out of him in a litany of pleas and curses. "Please, I can take it. Icantakeit. Harderharder nnghhh please p-please".
MacNess holds him tight, nibbles at his ear, strokes his hair, murmurs little encouragements, keeps him awake, conscious whenever he starts to slip out of it. Doc's pace falters and he comes with a groan, shoots deep inside the tight heat and his hands slip on Charlie's sweat-slicked skin, Charlie gropes behind him, squeezing Doc's arse, pushing him deeper, riding it out with him. Fairweather slumps against the boy, worn out with the extent of his pleasure. He leaves small biting kissed down Charlie's back as he withdraws with an obscene wet pop and Charlie misses him already.
"Such a good boy, Charlie" Doc says and he can hear the wide, sated smile in his voice.
MacNess grabs him by the buttocks, come oozing out of him, pulling him onto his lap, and Charlie doesn't hesitate, climbs all over him like a litter of kittens, wrapping his limbs around him and rising his hips eagerly to take MacNess's dick in. To sink down in one smooth stride. But MacNess has other plans apparently, as he grabs his narrow hips, keeps him in place, settling them both comfortably and wraps a hand around them both, stroking them in a practiced, steady rhythm.
"Nonnononono", Charlie protests, his voice breaking. "Nono. MacNess. I want you. I want you deep. Please."
"Charlie, Charlie--" he starts, more than a little shaken.
And Charlie topples them over, earning a gasp of surprise, pushing MacNess's back into the dirt, and he slides down, in one smooth motion, his body content and open for MacNess. He sighs happily as it fills him perfectly, setting each and every nerve alight. MacNess chokes on a breath, arching underneath him, overwhelmed, and Charlie looks down at him with wide, adoring eyes, and MacNess meets them and there's so much frustration about this boy, this wonderful boy that just crawled into his life, giving and demanding and giving a shit about him for a change, and there is so much love, so much much love in those gray eyes that Charlie can't help but screw his own shut in defence. Feeling like he's bound to burst into flames under that heated gaze.
He starts to move, rocking his hips steadily in sweet low-burning torture, relishing in the feeling. How full, how good it feels. That's where MacNess should be, that's where he should always be---
"How would we walk?", MacNess breathes out a weak laugh, and Charlie realizes he must have said that aloud.
"We'd find a way", Charlie retorts, his face pinched in concentration as he lifts himself up and falls back down, finding a pace. His own neglected cock throbs painfully as it leaves trails over MacNess's belly, and Charlie rides him, sucking in his plump lower lip, eyes thinning out, exquisite in his ecstasy. MacNess meets him, thrust for thrust, clutching at the boy's sides as Charlie claws down his chest, wilder with each forceful push that sets him aflame, growling low and feral in his throat, beyond language.
"God, Charlie", MacNess whispers, in awe, and his large hands travel up, leaving the boy's hips, pinching a nipple, squeezing his thin shoulder as this goddamn kid, that will clearly be the death of him, goes into a frenzy. "So fucking beautiful, god I-- you drive me fucking nuts---"
He reaches for Charlie's blushing cock, boyishly plump, a decent size for someone who's had maybe two proper growth spurts to his name, and tugs, but the boy bats his hand away.
"No", Charlie says, hoarse, like speaking goes through him, his voice eerie to both MacNess and his own ears. "I can---I want---"
Just this., he wants to say. Wants to tell MacNess that this is the happiest he's ever been. That this is enough to erase all the others. Erase Starinsky, Quinn, Tate, Hawkstone. Erase Jennings's clumsy fumblings and Doc's caring, gentle hands. Make it all invalid. Like, like a do over. Make it good. Make it just them. So he can kiss MacNess under an apple tree like he's dreamt of doing, and squeeze his large hand when they go visit his wife's grave.
And if he can come. Just on this. Maybe somehow all of this can happen. They can be enough.
He does, nuts off like a rocket, howling his release as MacNess grabs him by the hips again, his thumbs settling in the little groves just above his arse, and flips them over. Kissing Charlie deep, taking everything there is to take, everything Charlie offers. They shudder together, fucking out their aftershocks, surging through them like darts. They gasp in each other's mouths with MacNess rubbing gentle circles into the boy's bruised hips, fascinating patterns of purple already starting to blossom. He places a single sweet kiss to the middle of his sweaty, rapidly cooling chest, and Charlie's eyes flutter shut despite his best efforts.
When he wakes, not long after, he can tell from the heaviness of his eyelids, he's warm and more comfortable that he's been in what feels like a lifetime. He's wrapped in a blanket and clumsily dressed in his too-big clothes, his head lolled back on MacNess's shoulder. He swallows, his throat dry and sore from all the screaming. MacNess smiles above him, his prickly beard tickling his forehead, and he smiles back shimmering with happiness and reaches to pet it affectionately.
"Thank you", he says, hearfelt, and knows that he would never be able to muster the words to convey what he means, but he thinks that MacNess understands him, comprehends what this is as Charlie hears him swallow silently.
He checks his surroundings through his lashes, and realizes that the other warmth comes from the doctor, that he's tucked safely between them and he raises his head sleepily, his hand stroking Doc's cheek, and he moves to kiss him chastely on the lips.
"You're welcome", Doc says, winking and answering Charlie's cheeky grin with his own. "Least I could do".
And Charlie reclines, his back melting in the heat of MacNess's wide tartan-clad chest, his legs across Fairweather's knees, and he drifts into his dreams of dwarfish apple trees and wide Scottish fields as Doc and MacNess whisper together well into the night.
