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out_thereJust in case I want to access this from work,
"Oh yeah." If Dan's voice was satisfied before, now it was downright smug, and possibly planning world domination. It was also incredibly sexy, as Dan whispered in his ear and pressed up again. "This is much better."
In comparison, Casey's voice wasn't sexy, just breathless. "Good." Dan captured his mouth in another kiss, messily tracing Casey's lips with his tongue as his hands pulled and pushed at Casey's hips, pressing them apart and then grinding them together. Giving Casey friction exactly where he needed it.
It took a bit of shifting, getting his balance, and then Casey *got* it. It was the same as always, Casey and Dan, following their own rhythm. Like jokes flying back and forth, like glances noticed and understood, like bodies grinding against each other and Casey understood what Dana meant when she said they were both offbeat, but it was okay because they were in time with each other. It was the same rhythm, the same give and take, the same beat.
It was Dan grinding up as he pressed down, and it was them meeting in the middle. It was Dan's hands running through his hair and holding him gently; it was Dan waiting for him to finally understand what was going on between them. It was the same rhythm they'd been living for years. Casey had to smile.
Dan gave him a questioning look, asking without words. Casey grinned, relaxed, and let himself talk. "I'm resisting all rodeo jokes."
And it was still the same rhythm of moving and pressing, Dan smiling and talking. "Ride 'em, cowboy?" Laughing and kissing, pressing and grinding.
Then the rhythm changed, a little faster, a little harder. The kisses became deeper and messier, and Dan groaned, pulling at Casey's t-shirt. Dan tugged at it, shoving it up Casey's chest. Casey raised his arms, pulled it off and threw it, trusting Dan's hands, firm on his sides, to keep him balanced and stable as they moved.
Dan parted his legs more, pushed up higher from the couch, and pulled Casey closer. Casey bit back a curse that these denim jeans were so damn thick. Instead, he focused on Dan's shirt, struggling to get the slick buttons undone. Then Dan ran his short, blunt nails down Casey's back, and Casey's fingers skidded and he just yanked the shirt open.
Casey shifted, pressing forward and down, loving the slide of bare skin and the loose material trapped between them. Dan groaned against his jaw, "God, Case..." and dragged him down into a rough kiss, tongue invading Casey's mouth, teeth clacking harshly. It was still echoing their rhythm, tongues pressing and hips grinding and hands grabbing, until they had to pull back to breathe.
Dan was panting, digging his fingers into Casey's back, his sides, his hips. Then Dan kissed his neck, bit lightly, and Casey had to remind him, "Make-up."
Dan groaned, but nodded against Casey's skin, moving his mouth lower, outlining Casey's collarbone with bites and sucking kisses. Moving across, Dan ran those harsh kisses over Casey's shoulder, and Casey could swear that he heard Dan muttering against his skin. "So hot... Gorgeous, Case..."
Casey moaned as Dan's fingers became more insistant on his hips, making the shallow thrust harder, faster. Wrapping an arm over the back of the couch, he grabbed onto the rough material for purchase, and followed the urging of Dan's hands. Gasping for breath, Dan let his head fall back against couch, arching off the seat. Casey stared down at Dan, at Dan watching Casey as his thrusts became wilder and more desperate.
He leaned down, kissing Dan hungrily, and swallowed his grunt as Dan thrust up, shuddering, and then fell bonelessly back against the couch.
Casey knelt there, watching Dan's closed eyes, listening to Dan's breathing slow down. He tried to copy Dan's breathing, to calm himself, but he was still shaking from the need screaming through his veins. He tried to distract himself, to remember the last time he'd made out like this, and found himself thinking of Sally. Remembered his embarrassment when they'd done something similar, and she'd laughed, saying that she thought only teenagers came in their pants.
He felt a tap against his hip, and looked up to see Dan giving him a lazy smile. "Off."
He blinked at Dan. "What?"
"Get off, Case," Dan said, and grinned. Casey rolled over, collapsing sideways against the couch, and lay sprawled there as Dan stood up. In the monochrome light from the television, Dan shucked off his pants and pulled off a pair of dark briefs with a disgusted grimace.
"I think there's tissues on the desk," Casey offered, and wished Dan would talk instead of just nodding his thanks. Dan walked over the desk, and stood facing it, so Casey let his eyes wander over firm thighs and well-defined calves. It seemed so easy to forget just how often Dan went to the gym, and just how much dress slacks and loose jeans hid from the world. Casey meant to go to the gym, but he tended to... forget. Between Charlie, and Sports Night, hanging out with Dan and occasional dates, he never seemed to find the time. He had the sudden realisation that he hadn't been for at least three weeks, maybe more, and looked around for his top.
He saw it snagged over one of the arms of the couch and leaned over, and grabbed it. When he looked over to Danny, Danny was almost dressed. The dark slacks were back on and Dan was buttoning up the burgundy shirt. As Dan walked towards the door, Casey noticed that the only thing he was missing was his shoes. He momentarily wondered if Dan had even worn his shoes down here.
Dan moved over to the door and hesitated, and Casey swallowed his disappointment and hid, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. He pulled it down, and hastily reached forward for his shirt. He had one arm in and was shrugging into the other, before he felt Dan's hand on his shoulder.
"Case?" He looked up to see Dan squating in front of him, looking wary. "What are you doing?"
Casey sighed and shot a look over to the closed door. He looked down and realised that Dan still didn't have his shoes on.
"Case?" Dan prompted.
He looked up and watched Dan's eyes, wishing the lighting was better. "I thought we, well, this was finished." Casey looked over at the door again, and this time Dan glanced over his shoulder, following his eyes.
"You didn't lock the door," Dan said and smiled.
Casey had to return the smile, but it took him another moment to understand the meaning of Dan's comment. "So two prominent sports anchors just made out, in their office, with the door unlocked?" Dan nodded seriously, but looked mischievious. "And now we're...?"
"Not finished," Dan stated definitely.
Casey raised his brows and couldn't resist teasing. Squinting in confused concentration, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Dan replied, trying to keep a straight face. "To be clear," Dan said, leaning over Casey, and tracing a finger over the taunt fly of his jeans, "You're not finished."
"Oh yeah." If Dan's voice was satisfied before, now it was downright smug, and possibly planning world domination. It was also incredibly sexy, as Dan whispered in his ear and pressed up again. "This is much better."
In comparison, Casey's voice wasn't sexy, just breathless. "Good." Dan captured his mouth in another kiss, messily tracing Casey's lips with his tongue as his hands pulled and pushed at Casey's hips, pressing them apart and then grinding them together. Giving Casey friction exactly where he needed it.
It took a bit of shifting, getting his balance, and then Casey *got* it. It was the same as always, Casey and Dan, following their own rhythm. Like jokes flying back and forth, like glances noticed and understood, like bodies grinding against each other and Casey understood what Dana meant when she said they were both offbeat, but it was okay because they were in time with each other. It was the same rhythm, the same give and take, the same beat.
It was Dan grinding up as he pressed down, and it was them meeting in the middle. It was Dan's hands running through his hair and holding him gently; it was Dan waiting for him to finally understand what was going on between them. It was the same rhythm they'd been living for years. Casey had to smile.
Dan gave him a questioning look, asking without words. Casey grinned, relaxed, and let himself talk. "I'm resisting all rodeo jokes."
And it was still the same rhythm of moving and pressing, Dan smiling and talking. "Ride 'em, cowboy?" Laughing and kissing, pressing and grinding.
Then the rhythm changed, a little faster, a little harder. The kisses became deeper and messier, and Dan groaned, pulling at Casey's t-shirt. Dan tugged at it, shoving it up Casey's chest. Casey raised his arms, pulled it off and threw it, trusting Dan's hands, firm on his sides, to keep him balanced and stable as they moved.
Dan parted his legs more, pushed up higher from the couch, and pulled Casey closer. Casey bit back a curse that these denim jeans were so damn thick. Instead, he focused on Dan's shirt, struggling to get the slick buttons undone. Then Dan ran his short, blunt nails down Casey's back, and Casey's fingers skidded and he just yanked the shirt open.
Casey shifted, pressing forward and down, loving the slide of bare skin and the loose material trapped between them. Dan groaned against his jaw, "God, Case..." and dragged him down into a rough kiss, tongue invading Casey's mouth, teeth clacking harshly. It was still echoing their rhythm, tongues pressing and hips grinding and hands grabbing, until they had to pull back to breathe.
Dan was panting, digging his fingers into Casey's back, his sides, his hips. Then Dan kissed his neck, bit lightly, and Casey had to remind him, "Make-up."
Dan groaned, but nodded against Casey's skin, moving his mouth lower, outlining Casey's collarbone with bites and sucking kisses. Moving across, Dan ran those harsh kisses over Casey's shoulder, and Casey could swear that he heard Dan muttering against his skin. "So hot... Gorgeous, Case..."
Casey moaned as Dan's fingers became more insistant on his hips, making the shallow thrust harder, faster. Wrapping an arm over the back of the couch, he grabbed onto the rough material for purchase, and followed the urging of Dan's hands. Gasping for breath, Dan let his head fall back against couch, arching off the seat. Casey stared down at Dan, at Dan watching Casey as his thrusts became wilder and more desperate.
He leaned down, kissing Dan hungrily, and swallowed his grunt as Dan thrust up, shuddering, and then fell bonelessly back against the couch.
Casey knelt there, watching Dan's closed eyes, listening to Dan's breathing slow down. He tried to copy Dan's breathing, to calm himself, but he was still shaking from the need screaming through his veins. He tried to distract himself, to remember the last time he'd made out like this, and found himself thinking of Sally. Remembered his embarrassment when they'd done something similar, and she'd laughed, saying that she thought only teenagers came in their pants.
He felt a tap against his hip, and looked up to see Dan giving him a lazy smile. "Off."
He blinked at Dan. "What?"
"Get off, Case," Dan said, and grinned. Casey rolled over, collapsing sideways against the couch, and lay sprawled there as Dan stood up. In the monochrome light from the television, Dan shucked off his pants and pulled off a pair of dark briefs with a disgusted grimace.
"I think there's tissues on the desk," Casey offered, and wished Dan would talk instead of just nodding his thanks. Dan walked over the desk, and stood facing it, so Casey let his eyes wander over firm thighs and well-defined calves. It seemed so easy to forget just how often Dan went to the gym, and just how much dress slacks and loose jeans hid from the world. Casey meant to go to the gym, but he tended to... forget. Between Charlie, and Sports Night, hanging out with Dan and occasional dates, he never seemed to find the time. He had the sudden realisation that he hadn't been for at least three weeks, maybe more, and looked around for his top.
He saw it snagged over one of the arms of the couch and leaned over, and grabbed it. When he looked over to Danny, Danny was almost dressed. The dark slacks were back on and Dan was buttoning up the burgundy shirt. As Dan walked towards the door, Casey noticed that the only thing he was missing was his shoes. He momentarily wondered if Dan had even worn his shoes down here.
Dan moved over to the door and hesitated, and Casey swallowed his disappointment and hid, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. He pulled it down, and hastily reached forward for his shirt. He had one arm in and was shrugging into the other, before he felt Dan's hand on his shoulder.
"Case?" He looked up to see Dan squating in front of him, looking wary. "What are you doing?"
Casey sighed and shot a look over to the closed door. He looked down and realised that Dan still didn't have his shoes on.
"Case?" Dan prompted.
He looked up and watched Dan's eyes, wishing the lighting was better. "I thought we, well, this was finished." Casey looked over at the door again, and this time Dan glanced over his shoulder, following his eyes.
"You didn't lock the door," Dan said and smiled.
Casey had to return the smile, but it took him another moment to understand the meaning of Dan's comment. "So two prominent sports anchors just made out, in their office, with the door unlocked?" Dan nodded seriously, but looked mischievious. "And now we're...?"
"Not finished," Dan stated definitely.
Casey raised his brows and couldn't resist teasing. Squinting in confused concentration, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Dan replied, trying to keep a straight face. "To be clear," Dan said, leaning over Casey, and tracing a finger over the taunt fly of his jeans, "You're not finished."
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-07 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-07 03:01 pm (UTC)There will be more written.
Eventually.
I just find that if I post to LJ, I realise how long it takes me to
stop procrastinatingwrite the next section. I don't let stories go to rot, as I otherwise would.