(no subject)
Title: Hot coffee and hot kisses
Fandom: Neighbours
Pairing: Dylan/Paul. I don’t know where Izzy is. Oops.
Rating: PG-13, I guess. References to sex and some mild naughty words
Word count: 820
AN: I’m sorry for the bad writing. I haven’t been to bed tonight because I discovered this community and read ALL the entries in it. This is your fault. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Stefan Dennis’ coffee addiction is real. The characters are fictional. I own neither.
Dedicated to aphephobia. The first ever Dylan/Paul slasher I read and then I found this community through her. In the same night! Yawn.
Hot Coffee and Hot Kisses
Dylan loves watching Paul like this: he’s so peaceful, so blissed out and so vulnerable. It makes him feel powerful because he knows he’s the cause of it, he’s the reason Paul’s sleeping so solidly, exhausted from all the hot monkey sex, looking deliciously rumpled and sexy, pretty much like he always does. Dylan is so happy. But the coffee in his hands makes him feel even happier. He’s got the advantage. He puts the mug on the bedside table and takes his place next to Paul in the bed, cuddling up to him. He feels his heart almost burst with pride as an unconscious Paul automatically snuggles up closer to him too.
“Time to wake up, baby.” There’s no way Dylan would be able to get away with that if Paul was awake. Dylan relishes this time of day. “We’ve got work to do.” He places a kiss on Paul’s bare shoulder, hurt a little when Paul flinches away. He’s obviously started to wake up a little.
“m’wanna sleep.” Paul moans. Dylan smiles. Paul really isn’t good in the mornings. Very few people know that. Dylan feels so smug with himself. And moves even closer to Paul. “leave me ‘lone. Need to sleep. Your fault, ‘nyway.” Dylan smirks at that, only to frown and pout a little when Paul pulls away from him. Paul rolls over so his back is turned to Dylan, scoots over so he’s almost falling out of the bed, trying to get some distance between him and the insatiable and annoying Dylan. Dylan feels cold.
“Oh come on Paul. You need to get up sooner or later. Don’t take it out on me.” Dylan pleads, only to receive an unintelligible grunt in response. “I got you coffee.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Suddenly Paul’s awake. “Where the hell is it?” he asks gruffly before managing to crack open an eyelid just enough to spy the mug on the bedside table next to him. He pounces on the coffee as though it’s a lifeline. He takes several gulps, despite it’s scolding temperature and only then is he able to open both his eyes and begin to act like something resembling a human being. Dylan’s jealous of the coffee, it’s got Paul making orgasmic noises. Not fair.
“I don’t get why you like that stuff so much. It tastes foul. Needs more sugar, I think.”
“You’re right, this does taste foul.” Paul bitches, the coffee cup never too far from his lips though. “Remind me to teach you how to make some decent coffee, sometime. And you only brought one mug? What’s that supposed to do?”
“There’s a flask in the kitchen.” Dylan reassures him. “I thought maybe that would motivate you to get your butt out of bed.” He can’t help but cop a feel of said butt. “You’re addicted to that stuff, you do know that?”
“mmmhhh.” Paul’s too busy murmuring into the coffee mug and Dylan doesn’t even know if he heard a word he said. He should know better. “And I suppose you’ve never had any addictions. This is the least of my vices.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Dylan sits up to hug Paul from behind, pressing together as much bare skin as he can and resting his head on Paul’s shoulder. The coffee smell is strong but Dylan doesn’t like it. There’s a scent Dylan likes much more: Paul.
“This really is lousy coffee.” He places the empty mug on the table. Lies down on the bed. Dylan rests on top of him. “I don’t wanna get up for that. You won’t get it for me, will you?” Paul is asking him, not ordering him. “I don’t want to leave this bed. S’comfy. But I need coffee.”
“No you don’t. I bet you could give it up if you want to. Then you’d have no weaknesses. Then you’d be perfect.” Dylan sighs against Paul’s skin, even though he thinks Paul is perfect just as he is.
“That’s easy for you to say. I’ve been drinking this stuff for…for…” with Dylan nibbling at his chest and neck like that it’s very distracting. It’s becoming hard to remember. “for 25 years. What makes you think you can make me quit?”
“Maybe I don’t want you to quit.” Dylan states firmly. It’s makes him human. It makes him Paul. And that’s why he loves it. “’Cos although I don’t like coffee, there is one way I enjoy it though.” Paul begins to open his mouth to ask ‘what?’ but Dylan captures that mouth with his own. He sucks on the tongue greedily. God, he’ll never get tired of this taste. He wants to wake up every morning this way. “Maybe you don’t have to get up quite so soon.” Dylan whispers huskily after they break the kiss to breathe. Paul smirks and wordlessly answers.
Coffee can wait.
FIN