Getting back to his quarters, Kavanagh rearranges a few things, taking down the few pictures of Nick and adding them to the pile from Lorne's quarters, functioning automatically
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He wraps himself in Calvin's quiet warmth for an endless span of minutes, willing his skin to warm, willing coherency back to his speech and thought. He was past this, over this, refused to be as broken and scared now--but he was used to being this David--used to being weaker, and so he lets himself be that for a while again, in Calvin's arms.
Soon, though, he tires of even himself and lets Calvin straighten them, lead him to the bed, wrap him in warmth of another kind. The look of horror on the chemist's downturned face suprises him, and he looks down to find the new wound on his hand, just below where the cannula was pulled out earlier.
Calvin is angry, and he revels in that--this is a far better feeling that crying and whimpering and wondering why. It doesn't matter--Marc has made his choice, no matter how bad he feels about it.
"no, I hit him, Calvin--I hit him hard. He was bleeding when I left...I tried."
he scoots forward to the edge of the bed and pulls Calvin between his knees, his head tipped back so he can look up into dark, angry eyes.
"....I tried to make him give me an answer for you-that's why I left..I had to bring something back for you...but he didn't have any excuses to give. I told him to stay away from us, that we didn't need him."
His eyes are ice-blue and hold only a pale spark of anger, no longer any fear or real sadness.
"...and we don't. We don't need him. I just need you..."
His hand slips up Calvin's back, worrying it's way under his shirt so he can warm freezing fingers against his lover's smooth skin. Some strange lust rises in him, a need to take Calvin apart, make him moan his name alone, with no hint of Marc's on his lips--a need to start this over again, without the military man they've both lost. He can be that for Calvin, David thinks--the strength Marc brought--sweet David was worthless, sweet David lost them Marc, drove him away--this David won't lose anyone.
Despite himself, Kavanagh feels a pang of pain at hearing about Nick bleeding and alone. He deserves it, he totally deserves it, he reminds himself but can't quite believe it. Instead he chooses to focus on David. "You didn't have to do that, David. I wouldn't care about his excuses even if he had them."
It's an odd feeling when David tells him he needs him. Affection and pride mixed with disbelief. He can't shake the thought that this isn't meant, is said only because he's still upset with Nick.
As David runs his hand over his skin, there's a perceptible shift in the atmosphere of the room. From betrayal and hurt to pure, animalistic lust. David's hunger is palpable. He can't quite match it. Until a moment ago, sex was the last thing on his mind. But David needs him, like Nick doesn't and he can't deny that. Pushing himself on to the bed so his knees are straddling David's thigh, he leans in and kisses him with passion.
For a moment he's not sure Calvin will want this--isn't sure he's ready or willing--and David wonders if it will matter, really. The point becomes moot as Calvin straddles his lap, leaning in to kiss him hard and deep. David doesn't know why he feels this sudden need for Calvin--and why Calvin returns it so easily, but it's no problem to push those thoughts aside, concentrate on the hard press of Calvin's lips against his.
He wraps his lover's trip hips in his long-fingered hands, guiding him to rub slowly against the growing hardness in his lap. The moan that passes from Calvin's lips to his is enough to make him want to tear his clothes off this instant--but he waits, letting Calvin feel how badly he's wanted, how David can't breathe without him.
After a moment he pulls back, hand at Calvin's nape to support him, pale eyes lidded and wide-pupilled. He tips Calvin back just a bit, just enough so that he can reach between them, and holds his dark eyes while he palms the front of his trousers.
"you want me, Calvin?...tell me...tell me you want me...tell me you need me too"
He whimpers as David pulls away and leans forward to follow him, the distance between them too great, not able to bear being apart. David's hand on his neck keeps him in place though and he's shocked to see the depth of emotion in those usually mild eyes.
"Oh David!" He groans, low and deep as David fondles him with just the right amount of pressure. "God, how I want you....need you....right now....please...David...please."
He babbles helplessly whilst clawing at David's shirt. Deciding that's to much trouble he just lifts it up and attaches him mouth to one of the nipples, sucking hard. His hand goes to David's groin, mirroring the gesture. All the while he's continuing to push and grind into David's hand.
Calvin is everything he once was at this very moment--pleading, wanting, needy--and David revels in it. He lets Calvin see that yes, he will take care of him, yes--he can do this for him, love him, make him forget. Calvin's voice is rough and low, the soft sounds seemingly pulled from somewhere deep and dark and desperate within him. His lover reaches out with clawed fingers, tearing, pulling the fabric away, fighting to get at skin with mouth and teeth. David lets him, relaxes beneath him, letting them fall back against the bed.
"have you, Calvin...I have you....yes, just let me...let me give you what you need"
Calvin continues to grind down against him, against his palm, against his hardness, and David flips them, spreads his lover's legs wide, pushing insistently, dry-fucking against him as he offers empassioned, hot kisses against lips and jaw and throat. He pulls the restraining band free of his hair, and the confining shirt free of his trousers, and balls one fist in silken strands, holding Calvin immobile while he fights to open his trousers, David's hips still grinding insistently against the chemist's.
soft words gasp out between wet kisses "so, God you feel so good, Calvin...perfect, perfect mouth, perfect ass, perfect hair, want to...want you so badly. Want to fuck you 'til you scream my name, Calvin...my name..."
He tries to think of the words to tell Calvin how much he wants him--and how amazing he is, but his body takes over, one hand pinning Calvin's momentarily to the bed while he tears open his trousers.
((Hey! I finished 20 icons *whee* check my journal when you get time! *goes to bed* ))
Calvin isn't quite sure when he's gone from grinding into David's lap to flat on his back with David on top. He thinks David may have caused him to lose time. David is lighter than Nick, but closer to his own height. It makes them a better fit. Like two pieces of a puzzle. Like they belong.
David's desperately sincere words, added to skin and hardness and lips, almost throws him over the edge there and then. He forces himself back under control. He will last long enough to make it good for David too. He has just enough coherency to wrap one long leg around David's waist, trembling a little at the thought of David fucking him dry, hard and fast. Pure animalistic desire.
He's never heard Calvin come even moderately close to begging--and he takes a moment to wonder why---he does it beautifully. No one has ever been this desperate for him--needed him this badly--and David is drunk with it, bending to bite at the delicately fluttering pulse in Calvin's neck as they continue to move together. He gets the trousers open and slips his hand inside the warm fabric just as he's biting a burning path along Calvin's neck, searching for a good spot to hickey his lover, mark him, brand him as his own.
Just as his hand slips down Calvin's considerable length, the soft skin scorching-hot against his palm, David finds the perfect spot and bites down hard, soothing the teethmarks with gentle licks and sucks that bring the blood to the skin. He repeats the process on Calvin's nipples, along his ribs, hickeying each hipbone and the soft crease between thigh and body. The trousers give him little trouble as he slips them down and away, pushing Calvin's shoes along with them.
The chemist is letting out breathy little sighing moans that David's never heard him make before, and as he blows cool air across the wet tip of his lover's leaking cock, the sounds deepen, making his own hardness twitch in respose. He licks Calvin once, a long stroke from root to tip, collecting the pearly bead of precum and licking his lips before darting down, spreading Calvin's legs wide, and flicking his tongue against his lover's tight opening.
He recognises and reflects David's need to mark him all over. He'd felt something similar the last time they were together. It was different now though that is was just them - deeper - a powerful desire to erase all trace of Nick from his mind and body and life. To replace it with David's mouth and David's scent.
He's impressed at the ease with which David strips him, like they've been doing this forever. More awkwardly, he manages to pull off David's trousers too. He wants to return some of the pleasure David is so freely giving him.
But then David's tongue is on his cock and in his ass and all he can to is hold on to David's hair and whimper. Vaguely recalling his earlier request, he thinks the least he can do for David is tell him how he's feeling. "Oh David...so good...you're so good...need you so fucking much..."
The long, desperate fingers in his hair and the ....god, the way Calvin speaks--babbling string of words spilling from his usually-restrained mouth, a mouth more accustomed to painful barbs than desperate pleas.
David's never been here, head down, nosed pressed against the musky-sweet crook of his lover's thigh, his tongue darting forward, entering, tasting, opening Calvin's body to him. This should be strange, maybe even distasteful, and he'd always thought it might be--but Calvin is bucking beneath him, and nothing is better than the rolling flex of the chemist's hips beneath his palms where he pins him to the bed.
He speaks between flicking darts of his tongue
"yes..yes, Calvin...tell me, don't stop....love to hear you..."
His hand slips up to grasp Calvin's rigid length, his fingers feather-light at first, then grasping tighter as he moves up and down the shaft. A soft lick to the space between Calvin's balls and ass has him arching up, so David does it again, grinning manically, savoring the chance to explore and see what makes Calvin come apart.
He tries to do as David asks. Wants to tell him how much it means to have him here. Wants to let him know that this isn't just because of Nick. Wants to tell him everything. But David's doing something wicked and so right with him and he barely manages to gasp out his name, a broken plea.
His cock is achingly hard and leaking. His balls are becoming tighter and tighter. He can feel him on the razor's edge, he just needs a small nudge and he'd be gone. He tries to arch and thrust, so desperately wanting at final release. David expertly keeps him there though, his touch light, his tongue teasing.
David is desperate to see Calvin undone, to hear him cry his name, to watch him tremble and buck, and know it is he alone he comes for. He's painfully hard, and can't seem to summon the will to care, only concerned with making Calvin love him--need him--scream for him. He continues the teasing touches, circling Calvin's head with fingertips wet with precum, tongue invading, lapping, desperate to taste and experience everything he can.
Calvin bucks beneath him, and David tires of drawing this out--he lifts up and deepthroats his lover, closing his lips tight, working his tongue along the sensitive vein running along the underside of the solid length.
David's lips tremble around his length, the sensation transmits to his cock and sends a shudder up his spine. His eyes are screwed tight in concentration - focusing equally hard on not bucking into David's mouth and trying to hold his orgasm at bay as long as possible. He wants to be here, in this moment, with David, enjoy it, not let it end.
But with David sucking his cock with as much ease and familiarity as if he's been doing it for years, he doesn't last long, coming in quick, hot spurts. Gasping, he breathes out a stuttered David, before surrendering to the euphoria.
It's several long moments before he's recovered enough for coherent thought and he grabs David's hair, dragging him up for a long, slow kiss. His eyes still closed, he can almost imagine that's Nick's taste in David's mouth and he moans into the kiss.
David's erection is poking into his belly, pre-come smearing onto his skin. Reluctantly breaking off the kiss, he takes hold of both sides of his rib cage and pulls him further along. He looks up at him with lust-darkened eyes, speaking volumes. David seems to understand, getting up to straddle his upper body. Calvin opens his mouth and positions David so he can take him cock in.
Soon, though, he tires of even himself and lets Calvin straighten them, lead him to the bed, wrap him in warmth of another kind. The look of horror on the chemist's downturned face suprises him, and he looks down to find the new wound on his hand, just below where the cannula was pulled out earlier.
Calvin is angry, and he revels in that--this is a far better feeling that crying and whimpering and wondering why. It doesn't matter--Marc has made his choice, no matter how bad he feels about it.
"no, I hit him, Calvin--I hit him hard. He was bleeding when I left...I tried."
he scoots forward to the edge of the bed and pulls Calvin between his knees, his head tipped back so he can look up into dark, angry eyes.
"....I tried to make him give me an answer for you-that's why I left..I had to bring something back for you...but he didn't have any excuses to give. I told him to stay away from us, that we didn't need him."
His eyes are ice-blue and hold only a pale spark of anger, no longer any fear or real sadness.
"...and we don't. We don't need him. I just need you..."
His hand slips up Calvin's back, worrying it's way under his shirt so he can warm freezing fingers against his lover's smooth skin. Some strange lust rises in him, a need to take Calvin apart, make him moan his name alone, with no hint of Marc's on his lips--a need to start this over again, without the military man they've both lost. He can be that for Calvin, David thinks--the strength Marc brought--sweet David was worthless, sweet David lost them Marc, drove him away--this David won't lose anyone.
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It's an odd feeling when David tells him he needs him. Affection and pride mixed with disbelief. He can't shake the thought that this isn't meant, is said only because he's still upset with Nick.
As David runs his hand over his skin, there's a perceptible shift in the atmosphere of the room. From betrayal and hurt to pure, animalistic lust. David's hunger is palpable. He can't quite match it. Until a moment ago, sex was the last thing on his mind. But David needs him, like Nick doesn't and he can't deny that. Pushing himself on to the bed so his knees are straddling David's thigh, he leans in and kisses him with passion.
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He wraps his lover's trip hips in his long-fingered hands, guiding him to rub slowly against the growing hardness in his lap. The moan that passes from Calvin's lips to his is enough to make him want to tear his clothes off this instant--but he waits, letting Calvin feel how badly he's wanted, how David can't breathe without him.
After a moment he pulls back, hand at Calvin's nape to support him, pale eyes lidded and wide-pupilled. He tips Calvin back just a bit, just enough so that he can reach between them, and holds his dark eyes while he palms the front of his trousers.
"you want me, Calvin?...tell me...tell me you want me...tell me you need me too"
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"Oh David!" He groans, low and deep as David fondles him with just the right amount of pressure. "God, how I want you....need you....right now....please...David...please."
He babbles helplessly whilst clawing at David's shirt. Deciding that's to much trouble he just lifts it up and attaches him mouth to one of the nipples, sucking hard. His hand goes to David's groin, mirroring the gesture. All the while he's continuing to push and grind into David's hand.
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"have you, Calvin...I have you....yes, just let me...let me give you what you need"
Calvin continues to grind down against him, against his palm, against his hardness, and David flips them, spreads his lover's legs wide, pushing insistently, dry-fucking against him as he offers empassioned, hot kisses against lips and jaw and throat. He pulls the restraining band free of his hair, and the confining shirt free of his trousers, and balls one fist in silken strands, holding Calvin immobile while he fights to open his trousers, David's hips still grinding insistently against the chemist's.
soft words gasp out between wet kisses
"so, God you feel so good, Calvin...perfect, perfect mouth, perfect ass, perfect hair, want to...want you so badly. Want to fuck you 'til you scream my name, Calvin...my name..."
He tries to think of the words to tell Calvin how much he wants him--and how amazing he is, but his body takes over, one hand pinning Calvin's momentarily to the bed while he tears open his trousers.
((Hey! I finished 20 icons *whee* check my journal when you get time! *goes to bed* ))
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David's desperately sincere words, added to skin and hardness and lips, almost throws him over the edge there and then. He forces himself back under control. He will last long enough to make it good for David too. He has just enough coherency to wrap one long leg around David's waist, trembling a little at the thought of David fucking him dry, hard and fast. Pure animalistic desire.
"Yeah...make me scream, David...make me yours."
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He's never heard Calvin come even moderately close to begging--and he takes a moment to wonder why---he does it beautifully. No one has ever been this desperate for him--needed him this badly--and David is drunk with it, bending to bite at the delicately fluttering pulse in Calvin's neck as they continue to move together. He gets the trousers open and slips his hand inside the warm fabric just as he's biting a burning path along Calvin's neck, searching for a good spot to hickey his lover, mark him, brand him as his own.
Just as his hand slips down Calvin's considerable length, the soft skin scorching-hot against his palm, David finds the perfect spot and bites down hard, soothing the teethmarks with gentle licks and sucks that bring the blood to the skin. He repeats the process on Calvin's nipples, along his ribs, hickeying each hipbone and the soft crease between thigh and body. The trousers give him little trouble as he slips them down and away, pushing Calvin's shoes along with them.
The chemist is letting out breathy little sighing moans that David's never heard him make before, and as he blows cool air across the wet tip of his lover's leaking cock, the sounds deepen, making his own hardness twitch in respose. He licks Calvin once, a long stroke from root to tip, collecting the pearly bead of precum and licking his lips before darting down, spreading Calvin's legs wide, and flicking his tongue against his lover's tight opening.
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He's impressed at the ease with which David strips him, like they've been doing this forever. More awkwardly, he manages to pull off David's trousers too. He wants to return some of the pleasure David is so freely giving him.
But then David's tongue is on his cock and in his ass and all he can to is hold on to David's hair and whimper. Vaguely recalling his earlier request, he thinks the least he can do for David is tell him how he's feeling. "Oh David...so good...you're so good...need you so fucking much..."
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David's never been here, head down, nosed pressed against the musky-sweet crook of his lover's thigh, his tongue darting forward, entering, tasting, opening Calvin's body to him. This should be strange, maybe even distasteful, and he'd always thought it might be--but Calvin is bucking beneath him, and nothing is better than the rolling flex of the chemist's hips beneath his palms where he pins him to the bed.
He speaks between flicking darts of his tongue
"yes..yes, Calvin...tell me, don't stop....love to hear you..."
His hand slips up to grasp Calvin's rigid length, his fingers feather-light at first, then grasping tighter as he moves up and down the shaft. A soft lick to the space between Calvin's balls and ass has him arching up, so David does it again, grinning manically, savoring the chance to explore and see what makes Calvin come apart.
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His cock is achingly hard and leaking. His balls are becoming tighter and tighter. He can feel him on the razor's edge, he just needs a small nudge and he'd be gone. He tries to arch and thrust, so desperately wanting at final release. David expertly keeps him there though, his touch light, his tongue teasing.
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Calvin bucks beneath him, and David tires of drawing this out--he lifts up and deepthroats his lover, closing his lips tight, working his tongue along the sensitive vein running along the underside of the solid length.
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But with David sucking his cock with as much ease and familiarity as if he's been doing it for years, he doesn't last long, coming in quick, hot spurts. Gasping, he breathes out a stuttered David, before surrendering to the euphoria.
It's several long moments before he's recovered enough for coherent thought and he grabs David's hair, dragging him up for a long, slow kiss. His eyes still closed, he can almost imagine that's Nick's taste in David's mouth and he moans into the kiss.
David's erection is poking into his belly, pre-come smearing onto his skin. Reluctantly breaking off the kiss, he takes hold of both sides of his rib cage and pulls him further along. He looks up at him with lust-darkened eyes, speaking volumes. David seems to understand, getting up to straddle his upper body. Calvin opens his mouth and positions David so he can take him cock in.
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