Intoxicated (Davis/Parker)
059. Intoxicated
To say that it had been a long night would be the understatement of the century. It had started with a few beers (as these nights usually do) to celebrate the return of Lyle & co from God knows where after a month and then gradually turned into something quite… out of this world. Yet, Davis miraculously manages to keep his dignified stance despite the dangerous sway in his steps. Parker is not so lucky and makes close acquaintance with his friend’s carpet as soon as he stumbles into the apartment.
“Make yourself at home,” Davis chuckles, voice slightly slurred but still surprisingly coherent given his rapid progression from beer to scotch earlier that night.
Parker just grunts, lazily following the intricate patterns of the carpet with his fingers, reluctant to get up again now that he’s finally legitimately in horizontal. Davis nods to himself, cautiously making a few steps. A tiny little voice in his mind tells him there’s something he should be aware of but he can’t seem to piece the puzzle together and the thought makes him chuckle silently. He bumps against the couch, barely managing to stay on his feet.
“Coffee.” Davis mutters to himself after a moment’s consideration but then stumbles into his bedroom rather than the kitchen and falls asleep immediately.
Dawn’s already knocking on the window when he wakes to a pleasurable moan being born in the back of his throat. His sleepy brain records this as rather strange but it’s not before a thumb skilfully flicks over the head of his cock that his eyes fly open.
“Bloody hell.”
“If you tell me to go, I will.” Parker immediately says, expression entirely too innocent and curious considering he’s stroking another man’s cock to hardness. Davis blinks a few times, trying to free his mind of sleep and pleasure.
“I have no intention of being the next conquest on your list,” he says simply in a matter-of-fact voice. Parker’s hand stops mid-stroke.
“I don’t do lists.”
Maybe not, but we all keep count, and you know it, Davis thinks but doesn’t say the words. There’s a moment of drawn-out silence between them before Parker leans in, painfully slowly, giving his friend the chance to pull away. But Davis doesn’t stop him, just let’s the kiss happen, opening his lips ever so slightly, tongue hesitantly caressing tongue.
After that everything happens in a strange lazy frenzy. Clothes from the night before are lost quickly, naked skin shivers under exploring fingers and tongues. The condom comes from the bedside drawer, the lube is Parker’s but Davis knows better than to comment on that little detail. It doesn’t really matter Parker has planned this, it doesn’t even matter that he was probably not Parker’s first choice to begin with. All that’s truly important is that right now he’s the one siding into Parker’s body as he’s grinding against the bed, desperate for more, he’s the one keeping the rhythm torturously slow despite pleading moans for hard, punishing thrusts, he’s the one who leaves soft kisses on a heartbreakingly scarred back as they both fall into sudden overwhelming bliss.
Afterwards, Parker presses his sweaty, sated body against him and Davis find himself putting an arm around his friend, who with his peaceful expression hidden against a dark chest looks more like a little boy than ever before. He’s already slipping back to sleep as Davis presses a firm kiss against his temple but as gentle fingers brush against scars (some fresh from this latest op, but most seem several years old) Parker flinches, sleep suddenly forgotten. He tries to move away but Davis holds him firmly.
“Sorry.”
Parker relaxes again and shrugs.
“I didn’t expect it to be so easy,” he says with a small, boyish smile, obviously tying to change the topic. “I figured you’d be straight as an arrow.”
Davis chuckles softly.
“I am… mostly. My last girlfriend said I was bicurious, it’s why we broke up.”
“Really?”
“No,” Davis laughs. “Actually it was the only thing that kept us together after a while.”
They both start laughing, but stop abruptly when for the first time this morning they notice the uncomfortable after-effects of the night before.
“Coffee,” Davis says and quickly putting on his pyjama bottoms walks out into the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Parker comes after him, hair sticking out in impossible angles, blinking grudgingly at the morning sun flooding the room. He’s only wearing his boxers, not bothering to hide his scarred back, which Davis recognizes as bait: Parker wants him to ask, so he does.
“You didn’t get those on an op, did you?”
“I got them in the army.” It’s not a lie, Davis can tell. He wants to ask if it was a fellow cadet at Sandhurst but he doesn’t want to push his luck so just nods and interprets the words the way Parker wants him to.
“You go through all sorts of shit on ops, don’t you?”
“You should see some of Captain Ryan’s scars. They’re… rather impressive.”
Davis’ raises his eyebrows in surprise, which drives a small smile on Parker’s face.
“Showers,” he explains with a shrug. “I haven’t slept with him.”
“Yet,” Davis adds and they both chuckle. “So… is this the part where you tell me that even though I was quite fantastic last night…”
“For a straight guy.”
“For a supposedly straight-ish guy,” Davis grins.
“Who can do rather amazing things with his tongue, indeed.”
“Yes, despite all that… you think we should keep this secret and expect me to say that it’s fine because it was only a shag anyway?”
Parker smiles, and watches in silence for a moment as Davis sips his morning coffee, dark and strong just like he himself.
“It was just a shag,” he says finally. “But… I’d like to do it again.”
“Even though I’m straight?” Davis grins.
“Wasn’t that supposedly straight-ish?” Parker’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “As for keeping it a secret… better not leave any week spots for Sam and Lyle to exploit.”
“True,” Davis nods. “They’d never let us live it down. We’d probably be better off sending everyone a detailed description. Or photos.”
“Or both.”
They laugh, enjoying the easiness of it all, the lack of complicated emotions that always ruin the freedom of sex.
“Now,” Davis puts down his cup, ready for another day with not even the slightest hint of discomfort after a night of drinking. He takes two steps but then turns back, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. “I don’t suppose you happen to know where I left my car, do you?”
To say that it had been a long night would be the understatement of the century. It had started with a few beers (as these nights usually do) to celebrate the return of Lyle & co from God knows where after a month and then gradually turned into something quite… out of this world. Yet, Davis miraculously manages to keep his dignified stance despite the dangerous sway in his steps. Parker is not so lucky and makes close acquaintance with his friend’s carpet as soon as he stumbles into the apartment.
“Make yourself at home,” Davis chuckles, voice slightly slurred but still surprisingly coherent given his rapid progression from beer to scotch earlier that night.
Parker just grunts, lazily following the intricate patterns of the carpet with his fingers, reluctant to get up again now that he’s finally legitimately in horizontal. Davis nods to himself, cautiously making a few steps. A tiny little voice in his mind tells him there’s something he should be aware of but he can’t seem to piece the puzzle together and the thought makes him chuckle silently. He bumps against the couch, barely managing to stay on his feet.
“Coffee.” Davis mutters to himself after a moment’s consideration but then stumbles into his bedroom rather than the kitchen and falls asleep immediately.
Dawn’s already knocking on the window when he wakes to a pleasurable moan being born in the back of his throat. His sleepy brain records this as rather strange but it’s not before a thumb skilfully flicks over the head of his cock that his eyes fly open.
“Bloody hell.”
“If you tell me to go, I will.” Parker immediately says, expression entirely too innocent and curious considering he’s stroking another man’s cock to hardness. Davis blinks a few times, trying to free his mind of sleep and pleasure.
“I have no intention of being the next conquest on your list,” he says simply in a matter-of-fact voice. Parker’s hand stops mid-stroke.
“I don’t do lists.”
Maybe not, but we all keep count, and you know it, Davis thinks but doesn’t say the words. There’s a moment of drawn-out silence between them before Parker leans in, painfully slowly, giving his friend the chance to pull away. But Davis doesn’t stop him, just let’s the kiss happen, opening his lips ever so slightly, tongue hesitantly caressing tongue.
After that everything happens in a strange lazy frenzy. Clothes from the night before are lost quickly, naked skin shivers under exploring fingers and tongues. The condom comes from the bedside drawer, the lube is Parker’s but Davis knows better than to comment on that little detail. It doesn’t really matter Parker has planned this, it doesn’t even matter that he was probably not Parker’s first choice to begin with. All that’s truly important is that right now he’s the one siding into Parker’s body as he’s grinding against the bed, desperate for more, he’s the one keeping the rhythm torturously slow despite pleading moans for hard, punishing thrusts, he’s the one who leaves soft kisses on a heartbreakingly scarred back as they both fall into sudden overwhelming bliss.
Afterwards, Parker presses his sweaty, sated body against him and Davis find himself putting an arm around his friend, who with his peaceful expression hidden against a dark chest looks more like a little boy than ever before. He’s already slipping back to sleep as Davis presses a firm kiss against his temple but as gentle fingers brush against scars (some fresh from this latest op, but most seem several years old) Parker flinches, sleep suddenly forgotten. He tries to move away but Davis holds him firmly.
“Sorry.”
Parker relaxes again and shrugs.
“I didn’t expect it to be so easy,” he says with a small, boyish smile, obviously tying to change the topic. “I figured you’d be straight as an arrow.”
Davis chuckles softly.
“I am… mostly. My last girlfriend said I was bicurious, it’s why we broke up.”
“Really?”
“No,” Davis laughs. “Actually it was the only thing that kept us together after a while.”
They both start laughing, but stop abruptly when for the first time this morning they notice the uncomfortable after-effects of the night before.
“Coffee,” Davis says and quickly putting on his pyjama bottoms walks out into the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Parker comes after him, hair sticking out in impossible angles, blinking grudgingly at the morning sun flooding the room. He’s only wearing his boxers, not bothering to hide his scarred back, which Davis recognizes as bait: Parker wants him to ask, so he does.
“You didn’t get those on an op, did you?”
“I got them in the army.” It’s not a lie, Davis can tell. He wants to ask if it was a fellow cadet at Sandhurst but he doesn’t want to push his luck so just nods and interprets the words the way Parker wants him to.
“You go through all sorts of shit on ops, don’t you?”
“You should see some of Captain Ryan’s scars. They’re… rather impressive.”
Davis’ raises his eyebrows in surprise, which drives a small smile on Parker’s face.
“Showers,” he explains with a shrug. “I haven’t slept with him.”
“Yet,” Davis adds and they both chuckle. “So… is this the part where you tell me that even though I was quite fantastic last night…”
“For a straight guy.”
“For a supposedly straight-ish guy,” Davis grins.
“Who can do rather amazing things with his tongue, indeed.”
“Yes, despite all that… you think we should keep this secret and expect me to say that it’s fine because it was only a shag anyway?”
Parker smiles, and watches in silence for a moment as Davis sips his morning coffee, dark and strong just like he himself.
“It was just a shag,” he says finally. “But… I’d like to do it again.”
“Even though I’m straight?” Davis grins.
“Wasn’t that supposedly straight-ish?” Parker’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “As for keeping it a secret… better not leave any week spots for Sam and Lyle to exploit.”
“True,” Davis nods. “They’d never let us live it down. We’d probably be better off sending everyone a detailed description. Or photos.”
“Or both.”
They laugh, enjoying the easiness of it all, the lack of complicated emotions that always ruin the freedom of sex.
“Now,” Davis puts down his cup, ready for another day with not even the slightest hint of discomfort after a night of drinking. He takes two steps but then turns back, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. “I don’t suppose you happen to know where I left my car, do you?”