So, I was texting
oz_the_bobble about Robert Webb taking David Mitchell's virginity, as you do, and she said 'I think this should be a meme. Mitchell and Webb's first time (and more especially first for Mitchell). LET'S WRITE THESE SUCKERS.' So, here we are.
THAT MITCHELL/WEBB FIRST TIME MEME
It can be AU, or Cambridge fic, or even just a drunken mistake, as
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Robert shrugs and pushes the paper away. "Wanted to make sure you got in all right."
David squints at him, then sheds his coat with a shrug and drops it onto the coat hook -- above all of Robert's coats, which lie in a heap at its base. "Thanks? You didn't have to."
"I know. Want a beer?" Robert pushes one over to him without waiting for an answer.
"Thanks." David cracks it open, and takes a long drink. He looks back at Robert, who seems to be waiting for something. "Rob Brydon thinks we're sleeping together," he says.
"I'm trying to imagine how that came up in conversation," Robert says.
David plants his elbows on the counter and stares at him. "You seem remarkably unsurprised."
"Should I be? Hang on." Robert presses the hand holding his beer bottle to his forehead, and the other against his chest: a fainting damsel in distress. "Oh, heavens! Martha, fetch my smelling salts, we've become the subject of pornographic rumours!"
"Shut up." David slaps Robert's arm gently, and he lets it fall to his side. "I didn't say they were pornographic."
"Rumours about who's sleeping with who --"
"Who's sleeping with whom," David says automatically, and Robert makes a face at him over the rim of his bottle.
"Who's sleeping with who -- ha, yes, shut up -- are always pornographic." Robert sits back in his chair and shrugs. "It's all about who they'd like to imagine naked together."
"No one wants to imagine me naked," David says, resting his chin on his hand. He feels pleasantly numb, and pleasantly buzzed, and pleasantly uncomfortable. If there is such a thing. It's a frequent feeling around Robert, like he's being kept on edge for just long enough. What edge, he's not sure. But he likes it. "I don't want to meet the person who does."
Robert glances at his bare wrist, miming checking his watch. Oh, the time, David thinks, and takes out his mobile to look at it. "I'd best leave, then. Too bad it's my own fucking kitchen."
David looks around. "Yeah, it is. Wait -- what?"
"David." Robert sets his bottle down and leans over the counter, hands clasped together like a schoolmaster about to explain a lesson that really isn't difficult but his student is having a massively difficult time understanding. "I don't have a problem with the rumours that you and I are fucking. I'd like to see you naked, so I don't have to imagine it, and so that the rumours will actually be about something. Is that all right?"
"Yes," David breathes. "Hang on, bollocks, my hands are full --" He drops his mobile and the bottle on the counter, and turns to walk around it only to find Robert standing in his way.
"Can't believe Brydon got to do this first," Robert mutters, and pulls David to him, hard and fast and solid, and kisses him.
"Hang on," David says into Robert's mouth, when he remembers how his brain works. "Hang on," he says again, holding Robert back by his shoulders even though Robert is being a complete arse and making begging eyes at him and David's knees feel kind of weak, like they just want to collapse and give him license to press his face against Robert's crotch. Stupid knees. "I didn't tell you Brydon kissed me," David says. "I just told you he thought we were sleeping together."
"Did you?" Robert looks up at the ceiling and scratches the back of his head. "I could've sworn you mentioned a good, solid snogging --"
"I didn't," David says flatly, but leans into Robert anyway, curling his hand into Robert's hair in an echo of what Brydon had done to him earlier. "I don't want to know, do I?"
"Just so I can be smug about it only costing twenty quid," Robert says, and kisses David's smile again.
(And then Robert gives David a blowjob on the floor of his kitchen, so someone else can write that if they want!)
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I mean, um. ♥___♥
(Also, your Rob Brydon voice was spot on. Woah, he was good.)
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And aw, yay, I'm glad you liked my Brydon!!
(Personally, my favorite part is Tara Parker-Tompkinson and her two stupid, stupid lines. She is like a Greek chorus of dumb and I love her.)
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"You wouldn't sleep with Webb?" Lee frowns at him. "Christ, I would."
I love Lee. That is all.
"David," Rob says again, slowly, "when a man and a man love each other very much, sometimes they start a sketch comedy show together."
This is like the motto of our entire fandom, isn't it? Brydon is such a fangirl.
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Seriously, normal people who love each other, like, move in together. Our fandom? Forms EPIC LIFELONG COMEDY PARTNERSHIPS.
I tooootally approve.
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This fic was delightful.
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I love that David, even drunk, is both a grammar dork and is also perceptive enough to pick up on Robert's little slip. And oh, Brydon. Love it!
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BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAHAHAHHAAHHAAHA *gasps for breath*
That was AMAZING!
*fans self*
very yummy
Thank you
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