drunk
Title: drunk
Pairing: Dom/Harold
Fandom: Lost
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: "cause you’re feeling drunk, so I’ll do for tonight"
Author's notes: A big thanks to canciona for the beta.
The doorbell rings and Dominic turns his head, side-glancing at the door, wondering who would be visiting at eleven o’clock at night. Turning back to the television, he grabs the remote, pausing the DVD before setting his beer on the table and making his way to the door. He trips over shoes he left in the middle of the room and picks up a jacket he tossed to the floor, probably after a night of too much drinking-something that didn’t happen too often anymore with the short leash from ABC-and throws it to a chair in the corner.
“Yeah?” he asks as he opens the door and freezes.
“Hey.”
“Hey...” He doesn’t mean to stare but Harold is the last person he expected to find on his doorstep at this hour.
“Can I come in?” Harold asks, voice a bit unsure and a weak smile to match.
Dom comes back to himself and shakes his head to clear it. “Of course! Of course, sorry.” Stepping out of the way, he allows the older man to enter, scratching his head and running his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about that. I forgot myself for a minute. Ignore the mess... please.”
He watches as Harold inspects his part-time home, eyes moving from cluttered pile to the lizard sitting on the back of his couch to another pile and back to the lizard.
“They seemed to have made themselves at home,” Harold chuckles before making his way to the couch. “What are we watching?”
Dominic does a double-take. We? “Um... one of my mate’s short films,” he replies, sitting down next to Harold. “Billy... played Pippin... he starred in a short film with his girlfriend, Ali.”
“Title?”
“‘Instant Credit’.”
“Hm...” Harold hums and looks at Dom. “Any good?”
“Pretty hilarious, actually... not surprised, though. Bill was always good at comedy. Kept me in stitches for hours at a time.”
“Miss him?”
“Yeah, we still phone each other every now and then. He’s busy with work and...”
“So are you,” Harold replies with a grin.
Dominic nods and glances awkwardly at the television set. “So... what brings you out here?” When he looks back at Harold, he notices the other man is staring at his hands. “Harold? What’s up, mate?”
Harold laughs, presumably when Dom called him “mate,” and looks up. “Family problems,” he replies as if it explains everything, which, of course, it doesn’t.
“What kind?”
“With Brittney filming on the mainland and me here, we’ve been arguing about Aurora. Where it would be better for her, who it would be better for her to stay with...”
“Basically what to do with her,” Dom interrupts, and Harold nods.
“Basically.”
“Personally, I think she should stay with you but I don’t see why that would get you so down... you two bicker all the time.”
When their eyes meet this time, Dom notices something he missed before. Deep within Harold’s chocolate eyes he finds pain, something sharp and hidden well, but not well enough. “There’ve been rumors, haven’t there? About Brittney?”
“How did you...?”
“I know that look,” Dominic cuts in. “The look of a man that found out his wife or girlfriend might be cheating on him with another actor.” His eyes move to the bottle left sitting on the glass table, condensation dripping down the sides, undoubtedly leaving a ring around the bottom. “Hell, I’ve looked in the mirror and seen it staring back at me.” There’s more to say, he can feel it hanging in the air. He ignores it and hopes Harold hasn’t noticed.
“But?”
“But what?”
“It was different for you, wasn’t it?”
He turns to Harold, arm coming to rest on the back of the couch. “If you are implying that it’s different because it was a man instead of a woman, then yeah, it was different.” Harold seems taken aback by his bluntness and Dominic realizes he was callous in his reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be snarky. I...”
“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have suggested anything. I’m just...”
“Hurt.”
“What?”
“You’re hurt, by the rumors... and you feel guilty for thinking they might be true.”
“Were they true... for you?”
He nods, but says nothing. There’s nothing to say.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was ages ago.”
“You’re a good guy, Dominic.”
Dominic looks at him and pauses. A moment passes between them and he isn’t sure what it means, if anything. “Want a beer?”
Harold’s wide, toothy smile makes Dom’s skin feel warm and his body twitch. “Sure... and keep ‘em coming.”
Seventeen bottles later (ten for Dominic, and only seven for Harold) they sit breathless with laughter after Dominic’s retelling of the Viagra story, equipped with how he thought of his own mate while wanking in the bathroom while said mate and his girlfriend made love on his couch.
“It was embarrassing,” Dominic finishes with tears streaming down his face. “I swore it would never happen again.”
“And did it?” Harold inquires, one arm over his stomach, holding his side as he chuckles.
“Only once,” Dom replies flatly, glancing at the other man before bursting with laughter. Harold joins him but only for a second before he falls silent and watches Dominic try to catch his breath. “God, why did I ever try that stuff.”
“How long did it take you?”
“What?” The alcohol is clouding his mind but he’s pretty sure Harold is asking him how long it took him to get off.
“How long did it take you to... get rid of it?”
“You mean the hard on?”
He can’t be certain but it almost looks as though Harold is blushing, blushing at Dominic’s frankness and the question he is asking. “It took a few tries... my arm kept getting tired.” He meant it to be funny but doesn’t find himself laughing, and neither does Harold. He just stares at Dominic without making eye contact, and with the slowness from all the drinking, it takes the younger man a minute to realize what Harold is fixated on. His mouth.
“Uh...” he whispers, and licks his lips, something he decidedly didn’t mean to do. He sees Harold’s eyes follow his tongue across the plane of his lips, and finds himself not regretting doing it.
“Yeah...” Harold says, eyes not leaving Dominic’s mouth, until he realizes that he is staring. Shaking his head, he leans back on the couch. “I need more.”
Dom’s eyes widen at the suggestion, but he isn’t sure what the suggestion is. “What?”
“Alcohol... I need more.”
“Oh,” he gives a nervous smile before standing up and walking to the kitchen.
He stands in the middle of it for a while, trying to get his brain to work right again. Nothing works. Finally he heads to the cabinet where he keeps the hard liquor and takes out a bottle of Patrón and two shot glasses before going back to the living room.
“I apologize for the lack of lime, but... I have salt, if you can live with just that.”
“Just tequila is fine with me.”
Anything is fine with me, Dominic adds in his head. “Good.” He grins and pours the first two shots, handing one to Harold and bringing the other to his lips. “On three; one, two...”
“Four!” Tossing their heads back together, the liquor moves smoothly down Dominic’s throat as Harold coughs from the taste. “Maybe straight tequila is a bad idea.”
“It will get you drunk faster.”
Harold’s eyes slide to Dom and he sets the glass down on the table. “One more.”
“Only one?” Dom replies with a cheeky grin.
“One more.”
He pours the shots and Harold takes his, downing it before Dominic can even count off one. He chuckles before taking his own shot, tilting his head back and letting the liquid burn its way to his stomach. It’s been far too long since the last time he drank this stuff. As he lowers his chin, he feels the backs of fingers brush his cheek before a hand molds to the side of his neck, bringing him forward to tequila-wet lips. It’s sloppy but nice and just what he needs right now, the touch and feel of something other than his own hand.
Harold’s lips part and Dom takes the opportunity to taste him, strong alcohol and faint mint along with something he can’t place or name. His hand comes to Harold’s waist, pulling him closer until they touch. Harold shifts and rests his left arm on the back of the couch, right hand coming to Dom’s thigh and gently rubbing with his thumb. Dominic lifts his hips off the couch slightly, searching for more as his tongue probes deeper into Harold’s passive mouth, hardening at the touch. Dominic is hungry and he will take whatever he wants, hand drifting to the other man’s hip as his cock twitches and his pants grow tighter. He feels Harold try to smile within the kiss but instead his tongue touches Dominic’s as his hand moves to the top of his jeans.
Dominic sighs as Harold’s fingers unfasten his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the zipper down. He breaks the kiss and watches Harold’s eyes drift down his body as he frees his cock from the confines of the fabric. His eyes follow Harold’s large hand, dark ebony against his own English-pale skin now flushed from the blood rushing through his body. Distantly he wonders what they would look like, standing naked before a mirror next to each other. The thought flutters away as his head falls back against the couch, a moan vibrating in his chest, when Harold’s thumb passing over the head teasingly.
“Fuck...” he mumbles and feels Harold’s lips against his throat, tongue lapping at his skin.
“You don’t know what you do to people, do you?” Dominic shudders as the palm of his hand slides down his shaft, fingernails teasing the underside.
“What?” he replies hazily, unable to focus on anything but the hand stroking his cock.
“That cheeky ‘fuck me’ smile, the ‘you know you want me’ bedroom eyes, the way you stand, trying to call attention to your body... especially this,” he says with a flick of his wrist, “area.” His breath is hot against Dominic’s skin, not enough to distract him from the hand but enough to add to the warm sensation low in his body. “And what’s with the no underwear, Dom?”
He sighs before answering, “Saves time.”
Harold grins against his neck, teeth grazing the oversensitive flesh. “So I’ve noticed.”
Dominic brings his head away from the couch and blindly finds Harold’s mouth as the hand keeps moving, falling into a quick rhythm. With the alcohol and Harold’s body so close, he knows he won’t last long, not with the way Harold’s tongue plays in his mouth, the way his hand slides over his cock, thumb wiping the precum from the head and spreads it over his shaft, the way Harold’s skin feels against his.
The kiss pauses when Dominic moans and shudders beside the other man’s body.
“You do know what you do to people, don’t you?”
“Ah...” he groans and bucks into Harold’s tight fist as the warmth in his gut turns to fire. “Yes...” he hisses before his mouth falls open in a silent gasp.
Harold increases his pace and Dom’s lips remain parted as the fire moves through his body, pushing aside his drunken state.
“Ah...”
The other man says nothing as Dominic thrusts into his hand, hips rolling and bringing his orgasm to life, a whimper starting in his throat that Harold swallows as he messily kisses Dominic again, hand continuing to move until the younger man grows soft. He moves away, putting a small distance between them, and Dominic’s head lolls against the back of the couch.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes focused on the ceiling as his chest rises and falls quickly.
Harold stays the few inches away and Dom wishes he would say something, anything, anything that will distract him from the pulsing in his head as the orgasm slowly fades. He sits there trying to catch his breath, and glances at the other man from the corner of his eye, wondering if he should say something instead. His eyes meet Harold’s and lock, another silent moment passing between them. Dominic realizes nothing needs to be said. It’s just something they needed-they both need. Harold needs a distraction from his family life while Dom needs to feel something outside of himself, something different, something he hasn’t felt in a while.
Dom’s hand cups Harold’s khaki-covered groin, fingers gently rubbing against the fabric. Harold scoots closer as Dominic’s hand becomes bolder, sliding the zipper down and sneaking into the slit of the older man’s boxers.
“Underwear?” Dominic quips.
“I don’t need to save time.”
His fingers encircle Harold’s shaft, thicker and longer than his own. Harold moans as his lips ghost over the length of his jaw before his tongue makes the same journey, only this time to the other man’s mouth. Dom’s lips and tongue are well received when Harold’s lips part eagerly. He bucks into Dominic’s hand, spreading the pearls of liquid from the tip along his cock. Dom flicks his wrist and Harold writhes in response, his breathing coming faster and less rhythmic.
He pulls back, away from the kiss, hand still stroking, wrist still twisting at just the right time, Harold still panting, with a thin sheen of sweat breaking on his forehead.
“I do know,” he whispers in the American’s ear. “I do know what I do to people...” A hot tongue traces the curve of Harold’s ear. “That’s why I do it.”
The other man’s left hand slides to the back of Dominic’s neck, skin warm against Dominic’s cooling body, pulling him closer until his lips meet the line of throat Harold is offering. Dom seeks out the softest, most sensitive part of his skin before latching on with teeth and lips, sucking the skin until Harold’s head falls to the couch just as Dominic’s had earlier. Dom’s mouth slides to his collarbone while Harold sighs and moans at the teeth grazing his skin.
“Fuck.”
Dominic smiles and flicks his wrist, hand maintaining the same perfect rhythm without missing a beat. “Not much of a talker, are you?” He nips at Harold’s dark skin, tongue soothing the sting of his teeth. “A lot of ‘straight’ guys seem to be... assumed you would be.” Before Harold can tell him to shut up, he shifts until his knees touch the floor, hand bringing the older man’s stiff cock to his mouth, tongue teasing the head.
“Fuck...”
“You have no idea, mate,” Dominic whispers and takes the tip in his mouth, tongue massaging the underside. He knows the other man has never gotten this from a man, and has never gotten this kind of talent from a woman.
Harold’s hand comes to his hair, fingers twisting tightly, almost painfully. Dominic takes it as a sign, a gesture for more, and moves his mouth farther up the other man’s shaft, carefully swallowing around the tip. He is silk and warmth against Dominic’s tongue, musky and strong in his nose.
With the wet heat of Dominic’s mouth, it isn’t long until Harold is bucking, forcing his cock deeper, which Dominic expertly accepts as low moan vibrate throughout Harold’s body. Two more thrusts off the couch and he comes fast in Dominic’s mouth. The younger man trails his tongue down the length of Harold’s cock, licking the head as he pulls away and sits back on his heels.
As Harold slowly regains control of his breath, Dom watches him closely; the sheen of sweat had increased to a few tiny droplets that now slide down the side of the black man’s face. He stands and sits next to Harold again, suddenly feeling lightheaded from the exertion of energy and the amount of alcohol in his body. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he stares at the ceiling trying to focus his eyes past the blur.
“Married to the business,” Harold whispers and Dominic turns his head.
“What?” Dominic mumbles, his brain still slowed by the alcohol as well as the blood that has rushed in the opposite direction.
“When someone asked... back at that Disney thing... you said you were ‘married to the business’.” He appears dazed and Dominic isn’t completely sure it’s just the amount of beer and tequila he consumed.
“I meant it.”
“I just realized how much.”
Dominic sits up and puts himself back inside his pants, zipping them up before looking back at Harold. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Harold replies softly, not looking at Dominic.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying that.”
“You have fun, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t get hurt? Or hurt anyone?”
“No.”
“Then there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He finally lifts his eyes to meet Dominic’s and the younger man smiles, leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he whispers again before leaning back against the couch. After a moment of silence, Dominic looks back at him again, the smile reaching his eyes. “Want to watch the film?”
“What film? Your mate’s?” The grin widens on Dom’s face when Harold says “mate”.
“Yeah, me mate’s.” He can feel the cheekiness before it reaches his smirk.
“Yeah, all right.” He smiles and sits back, finding a comfortable spot while Dom snatches the remote from the table and turns the television and DVD player back on.
“Still drunk?” he asks as the player warms up.
“You have no idea,” Harold replies, words slurring and a finger waggling in the air. “No idea.”
Dominic settles into the couch and presses play, glancing at Harold before trying-and failing-to focus on the short film. He has a pretty good idea.
Pairing: Dom/Harold
Fandom: Lost
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: "cause you’re feeling drunk, so I’ll do for tonight"
Author's notes: A big thanks to canciona for the beta.
The doorbell rings and Dominic turns his head, side-glancing at the door, wondering who would be visiting at eleven o’clock at night. Turning back to the television, he grabs the remote, pausing the DVD before setting his beer on the table and making his way to the door. He trips over shoes he left in the middle of the room and picks up a jacket he tossed to the floor, probably after a night of too much drinking-something that didn’t happen too often anymore with the short leash from ABC-and throws it to a chair in the corner.
“Yeah?” he asks as he opens the door and freezes.
“Hey.”
“Hey...” He doesn’t mean to stare but Harold is the last person he expected to find on his doorstep at this hour.
“Can I come in?” Harold asks, voice a bit unsure and a weak smile to match.
Dom comes back to himself and shakes his head to clear it. “Of course! Of course, sorry.” Stepping out of the way, he allows the older man to enter, scratching his head and running his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about that. I forgot myself for a minute. Ignore the mess... please.”
He watches as Harold inspects his part-time home, eyes moving from cluttered pile to the lizard sitting on the back of his couch to another pile and back to the lizard.
“They seemed to have made themselves at home,” Harold chuckles before making his way to the couch. “What are we watching?”
Dominic does a double-take. We? “Um... one of my mate’s short films,” he replies, sitting down next to Harold. “Billy... played Pippin... he starred in a short film with his girlfriend, Ali.”
“Title?”
“‘Instant Credit’.”
“Hm...” Harold hums and looks at Dom. “Any good?”
“Pretty hilarious, actually... not surprised, though. Bill was always good at comedy. Kept me in stitches for hours at a time.”
“Miss him?”
“Yeah, we still phone each other every now and then. He’s busy with work and...”
“So are you,” Harold replies with a grin.
Dominic nods and glances awkwardly at the television set. “So... what brings you out here?” When he looks back at Harold, he notices the other man is staring at his hands. “Harold? What’s up, mate?”
Harold laughs, presumably when Dom called him “mate,” and looks up. “Family problems,” he replies as if it explains everything, which, of course, it doesn’t.
“What kind?”
“With Brittney filming on the mainland and me here, we’ve been arguing about Aurora. Where it would be better for her, who it would be better for her to stay with...”
“Basically what to do with her,” Dom interrupts, and Harold nods.
“Basically.”
“Personally, I think she should stay with you but I don’t see why that would get you so down... you two bicker all the time.”
When their eyes meet this time, Dom notices something he missed before. Deep within Harold’s chocolate eyes he finds pain, something sharp and hidden well, but not well enough. “There’ve been rumors, haven’t there? About Brittney?”
“How did you...?”
“I know that look,” Dominic cuts in. “The look of a man that found out his wife or girlfriend might be cheating on him with another actor.” His eyes move to the bottle left sitting on the glass table, condensation dripping down the sides, undoubtedly leaving a ring around the bottom. “Hell, I’ve looked in the mirror and seen it staring back at me.” There’s more to say, he can feel it hanging in the air. He ignores it and hopes Harold hasn’t noticed.
“But?”
“But what?”
“It was different for you, wasn’t it?”
He turns to Harold, arm coming to rest on the back of the couch. “If you are implying that it’s different because it was a man instead of a woman, then yeah, it was different.” Harold seems taken aback by his bluntness and Dominic realizes he was callous in his reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be snarky. I...”
“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have suggested anything. I’m just...”
“Hurt.”
“What?”
“You’re hurt, by the rumors... and you feel guilty for thinking they might be true.”
“Were they true... for you?”
He nods, but says nothing. There’s nothing to say.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was ages ago.”
“You’re a good guy, Dominic.”
Dominic looks at him and pauses. A moment passes between them and he isn’t sure what it means, if anything. “Want a beer?”
Harold’s wide, toothy smile makes Dom’s skin feel warm and his body twitch. “Sure... and keep ‘em coming.”
Seventeen bottles later (ten for Dominic, and only seven for Harold) they sit breathless with laughter after Dominic’s retelling of the Viagra story, equipped with how he thought of his own mate while wanking in the bathroom while said mate and his girlfriend made love on his couch.
“It was embarrassing,” Dominic finishes with tears streaming down his face. “I swore it would never happen again.”
“And did it?” Harold inquires, one arm over his stomach, holding his side as he chuckles.
“Only once,” Dom replies flatly, glancing at the other man before bursting with laughter. Harold joins him but only for a second before he falls silent and watches Dominic try to catch his breath. “God, why did I ever try that stuff.”
“How long did it take you?”
“What?” The alcohol is clouding his mind but he’s pretty sure Harold is asking him how long it took him to get off.
“How long did it take you to... get rid of it?”
“You mean the hard on?”
He can’t be certain but it almost looks as though Harold is blushing, blushing at Dominic’s frankness and the question he is asking. “It took a few tries... my arm kept getting tired.” He meant it to be funny but doesn’t find himself laughing, and neither does Harold. He just stares at Dominic without making eye contact, and with the slowness from all the drinking, it takes the younger man a minute to realize what Harold is fixated on. His mouth.
“Uh...” he whispers, and licks his lips, something he decidedly didn’t mean to do. He sees Harold’s eyes follow his tongue across the plane of his lips, and finds himself not regretting doing it.
“Yeah...” Harold says, eyes not leaving Dominic’s mouth, until he realizes that he is staring. Shaking his head, he leans back on the couch. “I need more.”
Dom’s eyes widen at the suggestion, but he isn’t sure what the suggestion is. “What?”
“Alcohol... I need more.”
“Oh,” he gives a nervous smile before standing up and walking to the kitchen.
He stands in the middle of it for a while, trying to get his brain to work right again. Nothing works. Finally he heads to the cabinet where he keeps the hard liquor and takes out a bottle of Patrón and two shot glasses before going back to the living room.
“I apologize for the lack of lime, but... I have salt, if you can live with just that.”
“Just tequila is fine with me.”
Anything is fine with me, Dominic adds in his head. “Good.” He grins and pours the first two shots, handing one to Harold and bringing the other to his lips. “On three; one, two...”
“Four!” Tossing their heads back together, the liquor moves smoothly down Dominic’s throat as Harold coughs from the taste. “Maybe straight tequila is a bad idea.”
“It will get you drunk faster.”
Harold’s eyes slide to Dom and he sets the glass down on the table. “One more.”
“Only one?” Dom replies with a cheeky grin.
“One more.”
He pours the shots and Harold takes his, downing it before Dominic can even count off one. He chuckles before taking his own shot, tilting his head back and letting the liquid burn its way to his stomach. It’s been far too long since the last time he drank this stuff. As he lowers his chin, he feels the backs of fingers brush his cheek before a hand molds to the side of his neck, bringing him forward to tequila-wet lips. It’s sloppy but nice and just what he needs right now, the touch and feel of something other than his own hand.
Harold’s lips part and Dom takes the opportunity to taste him, strong alcohol and faint mint along with something he can’t place or name. His hand comes to Harold’s waist, pulling him closer until they touch. Harold shifts and rests his left arm on the back of the couch, right hand coming to Dom’s thigh and gently rubbing with his thumb. Dominic lifts his hips off the couch slightly, searching for more as his tongue probes deeper into Harold’s passive mouth, hardening at the touch. Dominic is hungry and he will take whatever he wants, hand drifting to the other man’s hip as his cock twitches and his pants grow tighter. He feels Harold try to smile within the kiss but instead his tongue touches Dominic’s as his hand moves to the top of his jeans.
Dominic sighs as Harold’s fingers unfasten his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the zipper down. He breaks the kiss and watches Harold’s eyes drift down his body as he frees his cock from the confines of the fabric. His eyes follow Harold’s large hand, dark ebony against his own English-pale skin now flushed from the blood rushing through his body. Distantly he wonders what they would look like, standing naked before a mirror next to each other. The thought flutters away as his head falls back against the couch, a moan vibrating in his chest, when Harold’s thumb passing over the head teasingly.
“Fuck...” he mumbles and feels Harold’s lips against his throat, tongue lapping at his skin.
“You don’t know what you do to people, do you?” Dominic shudders as the palm of his hand slides down his shaft, fingernails teasing the underside.
“What?” he replies hazily, unable to focus on anything but the hand stroking his cock.
“That cheeky ‘fuck me’ smile, the ‘you know you want me’ bedroom eyes, the way you stand, trying to call attention to your body... especially this,” he says with a flick of his wrist, “area.” His breath is hot against Dominic’s skin, not enough to distract him from the hand but enough to add to the warm sensation low in his body. “And what’s with the no underwear, Dom?”
He sighs before answering, “Saves time.”
Harold grins against his neck, teeth grazing the oversensitive flesh. “So I’ve noticed.”
Dominic brings his head away from the couch and blindly finds Harold’s mouth as the hand keeps moving, falling into a quick rhythm. With the alcohol and Harold’s body so close, he knows he won’t last long, not with the way Harold’s tongue plays in his mouth, the way his hand slides over his cock, thumb wiping the precum from the head and spreads it over his shaft, the way Harold’s skin feels against his.
The kiss pauses when Dominic moans and shudders beside the other man’s body.
“You do know what you do to people, don’t you?”
“Ah...” he groans and bucks into Harold’s tight fist as the warmth in his gut turns to fire. “Yes...” he hisses before his mouth falls open in a silent gasp.
Harold increases his pace and Dom’s lips remain parted as the fire moves through his body, pushing aside his drunken state.
“Ah...”
The other man says nothing as Dominic thrusts into his hand, hips rolling and bringing his orgasm to life, a whimper starting in his throat that Harold swallows as he messily kisses Dominic again, hand continuing to move until the younger man grows soft. He moves away, putting a small distance between them, and Dominic’s head lolls against the back of the couch.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes focused on the ceiling as his chest rises and falls quickly.
Harold stays the few inches away and Dom wishes he would say something, anything, anything that will distract him from the pulsing in his head as the orgasm slowly fades. He sits there trying to catch his breath, and glances at the other man from the corner of his eye, wondering if he should say something instead. His eyes meet Harold’s and lock, another silent moment passing between them. Dominic realizes nothing needs to be said. It’s just something they needed-they both need. Harold needs a distraction from his family life while Dom needs to feel something outside of himself, something different, something he hasn’t felt in a while.
Dom’s hand cups Harold’s khaki-covered groin, fingers gently rubbing against the fabric. Harold scoots closer as Dominic’s hand becomes bolder, sliding the zipper down and sneaking into the slit of the older man’s boxers.
“Underwear?” Dominic quips.
“I don’t need to save time.”
His fingers encircle Harold’s shaft, thicker and longer than his own. Harold moans as his lips ghost over the length of his jaw before his tongue makes the same journey, only this time to the other man’s mouth. Dom’s lips and tongue are well received when Harold’s lips part eagerly. He bucks into Dominic’s hand, spreading the pearls of liquid from the tip along his cock. Dom flicks his wrist and Harold writhes in response, his breathing coming faster and less rhythmic.
He pulls back, away from the kiss, hand still stroking, wrist still twisting at just the right time, Harold still panting, with a thin sheen of sweat breaking on his forehead.
“I do know,” he whispers in the American’s ear. “I do know what I do to people...” A hot tongue traces the curve of Harold’s ear. “That’s why I do it.”
The other man’s left hand slides to the back of Dominic’s neck, skin warm against Dominic’s cooling body, pulling him closer until his lips meet the line of throat Harold is offering. Dom seeks out the softest, most sensitive part of his skin before latching on with teeth and lips, sucking the skin until Harold’s head falls to the couch just as Dominic’s had earlier. Dom’s mouth slides to his collarbone while Harold sighs and moans at the teeth grazing his skin.
“Fuck.”
Dominic smiles and flicks his wrist, hand maintaining the same perfect rhythm without missing a beat. “Not much of a talker, are you?” He nips at Harold’s dark skin, tongue soothing the sting of his teeth. “A lot of ‘straight’ guys seem to be... assumed you would be.” Before Harold can tell him to shut up, he shifts until his knees touch the floor, hand bringing the older man’s stiff cock to his mouth, tongue teasing the head.
“Fuck...”
“You have no idea, mate,” Dominic whispers and takes the tip in his mouth, tongue massaging the underside. He knows the other man has never gotten this from a man, and has never gotten this kind of talent from a woman.
Harold’s hand comes to his hair, fingers twisting tightly, almost painfully. Dominic takes it as a sign, a gesture for more, and moves his mouth farther up the other man’s shaft, carefully swallowing around the tip. He is silk and warmth against Dominic’s tongue, musky and strong in his nose.
With the wet heat of Dominic’s mouth, it isn’t long until Harold is bucking, forcing his cock deeper, which Dominic expertly accepts as low moan vibrate throughout Harold’s body. Two more thrusts off the couch and he comes fast in Dominic’s mouth. The younger man trails his tongue down the length of Harold’s cock, licking the head as he pulls away and sits back on his heels.
As Harold slowly regains control of his breath, Dom watches him closely; the sheen of sweat had increased to a few tiny droplets that now slide down the side of the black man’s face. He stands and sits next to Harold again, suddenly feeling lightheaded from the exertion of energy and the amount of alcohol in his body. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he stares at the ceiling trying to focus his eyes past the blur.
“Married to the business,” Harold whispers and Dominic turns his head.
“What?” Dominic mumbles, his brain still slowed by the alcohol as well as the blood that has rushed in the opposite direction.
“When someone asked... back at that Disney thing... you said you were ‘married to the business’.” He appears dazed and Dominic isn’t completely sure it’s just the amount of beer and tequila he consumed.
“I meant it.”
“I just realized how much.”
Dominic sits up and puts himself back inside his pants, zipping them up before looking back at Harold. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Harold replies softly, not looking at Dominic.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying that.”
“You have fun, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t get hurt? Or hurt anyone?”
“No.”
“Then there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He finally lifts his eyes to meet Dominic’s and the younger man smiles, leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he whispers again before leaning back against the couch. After a moment of silence, Dominic looks back at him again, the smile reaching his eyes. “Want to watch the film?”
“What film? Your mate’s?” The grin widens on Dom’s face when Harold says “mate”.
“Yeah, me mate’s.” He can feel the cheekiness before it reaches his smirk.
“Yeah, all right.” He smiles and sits back, finding a comfortable spot while Dom snatches the remote from the table and turns the television and DVD player back on.
“Still drunk?” he asks as the player warms up.
“You have no idea,” Harold replies, words slurring and a finger waggling in the air. “No idea.”
Dominic settles into the couch and presses play, glancing at Harold before trying-and failing-to focus on the short film. He has a pretty good idea.