bloodyrockgod | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Charlie is composing--not down in the bar, for once, just sitting on the floor in his room with guitar and open notebook.

He's still sneezing periodically.

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He grins.

"Claire's never had my cooking."

"Then she's in for a treat, isn't she? And maybe you should tell her to bring somebody . . ."

He pouts and shakes his head.

"She'd bring Eberts and just... ugh."

"Who's Eberts?" he asks, picturing a portly film reviewer.

He rolls his eyes.

"Trust me, he's not someone I feel like cooking for any time soon. He works for the 'Fish."

"Is he not a nice bloke?"

He winces.

"He's not...not nice. He's...he's Eberts.."

"Which explains it entirely," Charlie says dryly. "Dreadful, horrid--the condition of being Eberts."

He raises an eyebrow.

"You've met then?"

"I'm extrapolating from your tone."

He grins and pulls Charlie down for a kiss.

"Good extrapolating."

"I read you like a book," Charlie murmurs against his lips.

"You know, oddly enough?" he says with a smile as he stands, Charlie in his arms, "that's a turn on."

Bed. Beds are good.

Charlie kisses him, arms around his neck. Beds are very good. "Knowledge is sexy," he whispers.

He nods and presses Charlie into the bed with a long kiss.

"You're sexy," he counters.

"No, you are," Charlie breathes, grinning, and he slides his hands up under Darien's shirt.

He ducks down with a laugh and blows a rasberry on Charlie's stomach.

"Nuuh. You are." he says in between laughs.

Charlie yelps and laughs, and pulls Darien back up to kiss him. "Nuh-uh--you're the one with legs a mile long and the poofy hair. Ladies love the poofy hair."

He kisses Charlie, again and again.

"They can like it all they want. I am for an audience of one, baby."

Charlie's laughter settles down as he wraps his arms around Darien's neck and kisses him. He squeezes Darien's hips between his thighs.

And he pulls back and starts peeling clothing away.

Charlie watches with obvious pleasure, touching Darien's stomach as soon as it's bare. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" he asks quietly.

He stops for a moment and looks to Charlie.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be all right. I'm handling it."

Charlie sits up and holds Darien's hips, and lightly kisses his chest. "'Cause I don't like the red-eyed pain thing."

Or the Darien not talking to his brother thing, but he doesn't know what more to say about that yet.

He shakes his head.

"Don't like it either, babe."

A kiss.

"I'm good for it. I'll make sure to hightail it tomorrow morning to make sure, but I can make it the night."