Live Like You Were Dying, Hiro/Charlie, we love movies
Charlie held his hand tightly these days, like she was afraid he'd disappear again, and so Hiro was concerned when she let go. But when he looked over, she seemed perfectly fine, intent on the fight scene, so he turned his attention back to it as well.
The next moment, that attention was shattered when the hand that had been in his reached his lap. "Charlie?" he squeaked, and was promptly shushed by the man sitting behind him.
"It's okay, Hiro," Charlie whispered, as she began to rub him gently. "Just tell me if you don't like it."
He should say so. You didn't do this kind of thing in the movie theater! But, as he felt himself harden under the rhythmic motion of her fingers, he knew that it would be lying.
Heroes just didn't do that.
Besides, when he looked over at Charlie again, her face had as sweet a smile as he'd ever seen, and her other hand was starting to inch under the waistband of her skirt, and he suddenly had to bite his lip so that the man would not shush him again. He really didn't want to be shushed right now. He wanted Charlie to keep on caressing him through his pants, and when she took her hand away he couldn't hold back his whimper of loss. Fortunately, it was drowned out by the sound of the swords onscreen; even more fortunately, she was only moving it up to undo the button on his pants and ease down the zipper, one tooth at a time, keeping it quiet. Rude man behind him or not, Hiro wanted less quiet and more touching, and as his hips bucked up for more contact Charlie deftly lifted her hand away, her faint chuckle somehow louder in his ears than the ongoing battle.
She didn't make him wait long, though, before her hand slid under the waistband of his underwear, and her fingertips grazed the base of his erection, and he gasped. Her touch remained light, never harsh on the unlubricated skin, ghosting and teasing along Hiro's length until he thought he would lose his mind and found he didn't mind the idea. Then, finally, her questing fingers found the very tip, rubbing those first few little drops over the head with a pressure that was echoed by the pressure that was building inside him until, very suddenly, she stopped.
Hiro was just about to ask her why when he noticed the black-clad waiter standing over them, not unobtrusively as they were when bringing the waffles and so on, but very disapprovingly. "Excuse me," he hissed, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Go- yes, yes, sorry, sorry." Hiro's cheeks burned. They really should not have done this.
But he couldn't regret it once they were outside, with Charlie kissing his cheek and saying "I still want to see the ending. Want to rent it and watch at home?"
The next moment, that attention was shattered when the hand that had been in his reached his lap. "Charlie?" he squeaked, and was promptly shushed by the man sitting behind him.
"It's okay, Hiro," Charlie whispered, as she began to rub him gently. "Just tell me if you don't like it."
He should say so. You didn't do this kind of thing in the movie theater! But, as he felt himself harden under the rhythmic motion of her fingers, he knew that it would be lying.
Heroes just didn't do that.
Besides, when he looked over at Charlie again, her face had as sweet a smile as he'd ever seen, and her other hand was starting to inch under the waistband of her skirt, and he suddenly had to bite his lip so that the man would not shush him again. He really didn't want to be shushed right now. He wanted Charlie to keep on caressing him through his pants, and when she took her hand away he couldn't hold back his whimper of loss. Fortunately, it was drowned out by the sound of the swords onscreen; even more fortunately, she was only moving it up to undo the button on his pants and ease down the zipper, one tooth at a time, keeping it quiet. Rude man behind him or not, Hiro wanted less quiet and more touching, and as his hips bucked up for more contact Charlie deftly lifted her hand away, her faint chuckle somehow louder in his ears than the ongoing battle.
She didn't make him wait long, though, before her hand slid under the waistband of his underwear, and her fingertips grazed the base of his erection, and he gasped. Her touch remained light, never harsh on the unlubricated skin, ghosting and teasing along Hiro's length until he thought he would lose his mind and found he didn't mind the idea. Then, finally, her questing fingers found the very tip, rubbing those first few little drops over the head with a pressure that was echoed by the pressure that was building inside him until, very suddenly, she stopped.
Hiro was just about to ask her why when he noticed the black-clad waiter standing over them, not unobtrusively as they were when bringing the waffles and so on, but very disapprovingly. "Excuse me," he hissed, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Go- yes, yes, sorry, sorry." Hiro's cheeks burned. They really should not have done this.
But he couldn't regret it once they were outside, with Charlie kissing his cheek and saying "I still want to see the ending. Want to rent it and watch at home?"