37: fan fic { numb3rs } : "crashing cars" [marshall, don/charlie]
title. crashing cars
author. nv
fandom. numb3rs
characters. marshall penfield, don eppes/charlie eppes, (marshall/charlie)
rating. nc-17
genre. angst, romance
warnings. sexual situations, incest
spoilers. "convergence"
word count. 632
challenge. "convergence" for eppescest summer porn challenge
feedback. is the reason i do this.
disclaimer. the characters and canon contained herein are the property of cheryl heuton and nicolas falacci, as well as any associated writers, producers, networks, and parent companies. the following was written by neur0 vanity. no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Years ago, we were lovers. The competitive edge in the classroom translated strikingly well into the bedroom, our minds focused on our bodies focused on overruling the other's, not at all unlike our intellectual battles. We vied for positions academically and sexually.
We told ourselves that it was just fun, nothing serious. It couldn't be anything serious. The issue of homosexuality or bisexuality - whatever the case may be - wasn't the deterrent; what held us back was our mutual bloodthirstiness for success. The saying should go "all's fair in love or war" because when your enemy is also your lover, something's got to give. Charlie chose us.
I told myself he doesn't know how much I love him. The adoration I have for him can be so overwhelming at times that it comes out as rage and destruction, a violent need to tear him down. That - the end product - Charlie knows well. I obsessed over the Eppes Convergence because it was beautiful work - because it was him - and in finding a flaw there, in disproving him, I thought I could render his work irrelevant. I thought I could render him irrelevant. I had to do this because as long as he's relevant - as long as he means something - I'm never going to get over him. I had to ruin him to save myself.
I should have known he'd be able to fix it. And I should have known that in watching him work, in seeing how elegantly and seemingly effortlessly he could correct the problem, I would become enamored all over again. I thought he would rub it in my face. He didn't. He just smiled.
What I could have never expected was to find Charlie Eppes with his brother. With his brother. I went over to his house to propose a collaboration. It had taken me hours to work up the nerve, to choke down my pride and go to ask my nemesis and ex-lover for his assistance. I knew I would find him in the garage; Amita had said that was where he was now working. And it was there that I saw them.
Don had Charlie pressed up against one of the chalkboards, his beautiful equations smudged. Their jeans were at their feet, T-shirts riding up, as Don fucked him. I've rarely had a problem with words, but I found myself unable to speak. What a horrific thing to witness, yet I was unable to look away, like the wreckage of a car crash. Standing there and peering through the garage's windows, I was turned on. My cock ached for my own release as I watched theirs - passionate and primal. The scene awakened in me memories of past liaisons with the younger Eppes, memories of our shared euphoria. Emotions of unrequited love, jealousy, disgust, and fascination overwhelmed me as I made my way back to my car. I didn't make it far before I had to pull off to the side of the road and jerk off to visions of what Charlie and I had shared and what I had just seen between him and his brother.
I was tempted the next night - my last night in California - to return to the house in hopes of catching them again, but I remained in my hotel room and relied on the bit I'd observed to fuel my fantasy. I'm a man of great intelligence, but it doesn't take a genius like me to know that Charlie will never be able to fully have what he really wants. He'll never be able to be with Don in the open, never be able to have a real relationship with him, just as I will never be able to be with Charlie. And I, beholder of the green eye, take comfort in that.
end.
like it? watch whereismytalent.
author. nv
fandom. numb3rs
characters. marshall penfield, don eppes/charlie eppes, (marshall/charlie)
rating. nc-17
genre. angst, romance
warnings. sexual situations, incest
spoilers. "convergence"
word count. 632
challenge. "convergence" for eppescest summer porn challenge
feedback. is the reason i do this.
disclaimer. the characters and canon contained herein are the property of cheryl heuton and nicolas falacci, as well as any associated writers, producers, networks, and parent companies. the following was written by neur0 vanity. no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Years ago, we were lovers. The competitive edge in the classroom translated strikingly well into the bedroom, our minds focused on our bodies focused on overruling the other's, not at all unlike our intellectual battles. We vied for positions academically and sexually.
We told ourselves that it was just fun, nothing serious. It couldn't be anything serious. The issue of homosexuality or bisexuality - whatever the case may be - wasn't the deterrent; what held us back was our mutual bloodthirstiness for success. The saying should go "all's fair in love or war" because when your enemy is also your lover, something's got to give. Charlie chose us.
I told myself he doesn't know how much I love him. The adoration I have for him can be so overwhelming at times that it comes out as rage and destruction, a violent need to tear him down. That - the end product - Charlie knows well. I obsessed over the Eppes Convergence because it was beautiful work - because it was him - and in finding a flaw there, in disproving him, I thought I could render his work irrelevant. I thought I could render him irrelevant. I had to do this because as long as he's relevant - as long as he means something - I'm never going to get over him. I had to ruin him to save myself.
I should have known he'd be able to fix it. And I should have known that in watching him work, in seeing how elegantly and seemingly effortlessly he could correct the problem, I would become enamored all over again. I thought he would rub it in my face. He didn't. He just smiled.
What I could have never expected was to find Charlie Eppes with his brother. With his brother. I went over to his house to propose a collaboration. It had taken me hours to work up the nerve, to choke down my pride and go to ask my nemesis and ex-lover for his assistance. I knew I would find him in the garage; Amita had said that was where he was now working. And it was there that I saw them.
Don had Charlie pressed up against one of the chalkboards, his beautiful equations smudged. Their jeans were at their feet, T-shirts riding up, as Don fucked him. I've rarely had a problem with words, but I found myself unable to speak. What a horrific thing to witness, yet I was unable to look away, like the wreckage of a car crash. Standing there and peering through the garage's windows, I was turned on. My cock ached for my own release as I watched theirs - passionate and primal. The scene awakened in me memories of past liaisons with the younger Eppes, memories of our shared euphoria. Emotions of unrequited love, jealousy, disgust, and fascination overwhelmed me as I made my way back to my car. I didn't make it far before I had to pull off to the side of the road and jerk off to visions of what Charlie and I had shared and what I had just seen between him and his brother.
I was tempted the next night - my last night in California - to return to the house in hopes of catching them again, but I remained in my hotel room and relied on the bit I'd observed to fuel my fantasy. I'm a man of great intelligence, but it doesn't take a genius like me to know that Charlie will never be able to fully have what he really wants. He'll never be able to be with Don in the open, never be able to have a real relationship with him, just as I will never be able to be with Charlie. And I, beholder of the green eye, take comfort in that.
end.
like it? watch whereismytalent.