Fic: Strachey Mysteries, Tim/Don
Day 7 - cross-posted to mmom
Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (the movies)
Pairing: Don Strachey/Tim Callahan
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Wanking, a handjob
Spoilers: None
Words: 640
Summary: This time it's Tim who's away on the job.
Off Axis
Tim's out of town. Out of town, Don thinks as he tugs back the covers of their bed that Tim made so neatly two days ago. Hell, with hospital corners like that on the sheets, you'd think it was Tim who was ex-Army.
Don's been on a stake-out since Wednesday, he's barely seen Tim since last Friday, and all he wants is his bed and his husband.
There's no Timothy there to rubs his sore muscles, no Timothy to coddle him and check him over for injuries Don won't outright tell him about. There's no Timothy to put hot, cheesy lasagna and the crunchiest, freshest salad on a plate for this worn-out gumshoe.
In short, he's missing his godsend.
Instead, Don has just downed a sandwich, dropped the towel from his shower on the floor and slid into cool, smooth sheets. He's doing his damnedest to ignore the smell of the Ben-Gay he hastily slathered over his muscles and he's really not thinking about what else Tim could have been doing right this second instead of participating in some team-building retreat up at one of the nearest ski lodges.
He's really not thinking about Tim's soft lips and clever tongue or the way his touch can be so gentle and so damned greedy at the same time. Don groans and shifts onto his back, arm shoving back the covers so he can get a good grip on his cock. He misses Tim's suits and ties that he gets to peel him out of and the way Tim arches into Don's barest touch.
There's a louder groan and Don's shifts his legs wider, not bothering to draw things out as he reaches for the lube and slicks himself up, hand moving swiftly on his shaft. God, he misses Tim. Those familiar warm eyes, that snark, that voice-
"Well, isn't this a fantastic greeting. You didn't even hear me call out, did you?"
Don blinks and stills his hand, not actually sure this isn't his fantasy still playing out. But Tim drops his bags and starts unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and Don isn't minding if this is real or a fantasy.
"What- happened? T-thought you were gone until Monday?" Don shifts and attempts to sit up so he can at least- but he's stopped short by his protesting muscles and Tim's there in an instant, gently pushing Don back down to the bed and kissing his forehead.
"They were going to close the pass, freak blizzard was coming up. There was no way I was going to stay stranded up there for God knows how long. Away from you. Not even for the Senator." You could have been lying dead in an alley for all I knew, is left unsaid, but Don hears it in Tim's voice. It's true, he hadn't made his usual check-in call that day, but he figured he'd do it when he got home since Tim'd be stuck in activities all day.
"Fuck, I missed you," Don murmurs, pulling Tim in for a slow, slow kiss.
"Mmm, I can see that. Unless something else inspired this?" Tim quirks a brow, but Don can already feel his warm hand curling around Don's erection.
"That's all you, honey... Please," Don mumbles shamelessly, exhaustion threatening to take over now that Tim's here and he doesn't have to worry about a damn thing.
Tim's hand is sure and swift seeing the need and bone-deep weariness in Don's eyes. Tim's long fingers twist a little and Don's gone, his naked body limp and sprawling. Tim smiles before stealing a kiss. Don smiles back at him, eyes closing. Tim always knows. He always knows exactly what Don needs.
It's not long before Don feels the bed sink and Tim's long length wrapped around him. All is right with Don's world then.
Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (the movies)
Pairing: Don Strachey/Tim Callahan
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Wanking, a handjob
Spoilers: None
Words: 640
Summary: This time it's Tim who's away on the job.
Off Axis
Tim's out of town. Out of town, Don thinks as he tugs back the covers of their bed that Tim made so neatly two days ago. Hell, with hospital corners like that on the sheets, you'd think it was Tim who was ex-Army.
Don's been on a stake-out since Wednesday, he's barely seen Tim since last Friday, and all he wants is his bed and his husband.
There's no Timothy there to rubs his sore muscles, no Timothy to coddle him and check him over for injuries Don won't outright tell him about. There's no Timothy to put hot, cheesy lasagna and the crunchiest, freshest salad on a plate for this worn-out gumshoe.
In short, he's missing his godsend.
Instead, Don has just downed a sandwich, dropped the towel from his shower on the floor and slid into cool, smooth sheets. He's doing his damnedest to ignore the smell of the Ben-Gay he hastily slathered over his muscles and he's really not thinking about what else Tim could have been doing right this second instead of participating in some team-building retreat up at one of the nearest ski lodges.
He's really not thinking about Tim's soft lips and clever tongue or the way his touch can be so gentle and so damned greedy at the same time. Don groans and shifts onto his back, arm shoving back the covers so he can get a good grip on his cock. He misses Tim's suits and ties that he gets to peel him out of and the way Tim arches into Don's barest touch.
There's a louder groan and Don's shifts his legs wider, not bothering to draw things out as he reaches for the lube and slicks himself up, hand moving swiftly on his shaft. God, he misses Tim. Those familiar warm eyes, that snark, that voice-
"Well, isn't this a fantastic greeting. You didn't even hear me call out, did you?"
Don blinks and stills his hand, not actually sure this isn't his fantasy still playing out. But Tim drops his bags and starts unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and Don isn't minding if this is real or a fantasy.
"What- happened? T-thought you were gone until Monday?" Don shifts and attempts to sit up so he can at least- but he's stopped short by his protesting muscles and Tim's there in an instant, gently pushing Don back down to the bed and kissing his forehead.
"They were going to close the pass, freak blizzard was coming up. There was no way I was going to stay stranded up there for God knows how long. Away from you. Not even for the Senator." You could have been lying dead in an alley for all I knew, is left unsaid, but Don hears it in Tim's voice. It's true, he hadn't made his usual check-in call that day, but he figured he'd do it when he got home since Tim'd be stuck in activities all day.
"Fuck, I missed you," Don murmurs, pulling Tim in for a slow, slow kiss.
"Mmm, I can see that. Unless something else inspired this?" Tim quirks a brow, but Don can already feel his warm hand curling around Don's erection.
"That's all you, honey... Please," Don mumbles shamelessly, exhaustion threatening to take over now that Tim's here and he doesn't have to worry about a damn thing.
Tim's hand is sure and swift seeing the need and bone-deep weariness in Don's eyes. Tim's long fingers twist a little and Don's gone, his naked body limp and sprawling. Tim smiles before stealing a kiss. Don smiles back at him, eyes closing. Tim always knows. He always knows exactly what Don needs.
It's not long before Don feels the bed sink and Tim's long length wrapped around him. All is right with Don's world then.