Captured - Lost - Boone/Charlie
Title: Captured
Pairing: Boone/Charlie
Word Count: 981
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For Janie_tangerine. AU wherein neither died. Total PWP.
Summary: Boone decides to take a video camera to bed with them.
Charlie eyed the video camera sitting innocently at the foot of their bed with no small amount of suspicion. "If this ends up on YouTube or anything," he told Boone as they tumbled awkwardly onto the mattress, "I will sodding castrate you."
"Relax," Boone mumbled, pressing his lips against the soft hollow of Charlie's neck. "I won't turn you into the next Paris Hilton."
Charlie snorted and mumbled something that sounded like a threat, but Boone knew that if Charlie had any real objections to the recording then he would have said so - loudly and incessantly - from the first moment that it had been suggested. Charlie wasn't known for keeping his opinions to himself, after all.
With the small red light of the camera shining at them, Boone shed their clothes, batting away Charlie's hands when he tried to help: he only succeeded in making Charlie laugh at him when he did so, but a kiss and a scrape of teeth against his bottom lip was enough to silence that. He had his ways of controlling Charlie's mockery and sarcasm. A master manipulator: after all, he'd learned from Shannon. He'd learned from the best.
"So what are you going to do with this little videotape once you've got it?" Charlie asked, with a curious lilt to his voice that was almost certainly put on.
"What do you think I'm going to do with it?" Boone replied, stripping the last item of clothing from their bodies. It dropped to the ground at the side of their bed and left them here: nude, hard, and ready. His heart raced and he wished that he could see what was being recorded. He wished that he didn't have to wait to watch it.
"If I knew that, sunshine, I wouldn't have asked, would I?" Charlie's hands rested on his chest, over his heart. There was a wicked gleam to his eyes and Boone knew what he wanted: he wanted to hear Boone telling him why it was that he'd asked to set that camera up.
Coaxing Charlie around onto his hands and knees - and glad that, for once, he didn't comment on it, because bickering about positions wasn't exactly what he'd intended on capturing - Boone dropped a kiss to Charlie's shoulders. "No, seriously," he answered, whispering words to his bare skin. "What do you think I want it for?"
It was like a wordless battle to see who was going to say it first, though Boone knew he'd relent soon. Leaning across Charlie's body Boone found protection and lube in his hands by the time that Charlie gave a reply.
"I think you're going to watch it."
Boone snorted. "Well, yeah. That's sorta what you do with videos."
He pushed a single, slicked-up digit inside his boyfriend, and it was probably that blunt action that stopped the response for being as bitingly sarcastic as it would have otherwise been. "You're going to watch it when I'm not here, right? When I'm busy with the band and stuff."
'The band and stuff' had very quickly become the bane of Boone's existence, always stealing Charlie away. The popularity boost following the rescue had been all that Driveshaft had needed to take off, apparently. If he'd thought it would stop him from leaving so often then maybe he would have leaked this clip online - but, knowing Charlie's fan base, it would do nothing of the sort.
His fingers worked Charlie open, a short task when he was relaxed and experienced. "You are away a lot…" he agreed.
"A whole lot," Charlie confirmed: he was beginning to feel breathless by now. "I can understand how you'd need a - fuck - replacement. Distraction. One of those." His eyes were screwed shut and Boone curled his fingers against his prostate again: there was something especially delightful about making Charlie lose track of his words. It happened way too rarely outside of the bedroom.
"A replacement?" he repeated, pulling his fingers free. The whine that he could hear made it impossible not to smile. "Does that mean you want me to start fucking around?"
Hearing that, Charlie tried to kick him - and thankfully missed, only succeeding in nudging Boone's knee. "Try it and I'll kill you," he murmured.
Boone knew that the grin on his face was disgustingly sappy, and that if Shannon saw it she would probably sneer at him for it, but there was something about this thing between him and Charlie that meant that not smiling was impossible. Who'd have ever thought that crash-landing on an island would be the best thing that ever happened to either of them?
"Are you even doing anything back there?" Charlie complained, peering over his shoulder, so Boone hurried up. He rolled the condom on over his achingly hard cock and slicked himself up in a rush.
Before he could enter Charlie his eyes flicked up to look at the lens of the camera and he bit his bottom lip as he thought of the image captured there: of how Charlie must have looked kneeling before him wantonly and of the pink flush that would colour his cheeks, now recorded forever. His mouth dropped to Charlie's bare shoulder, muffling moans there when he guided himself inside the familiar clasp of Charlie's body. They fit together so neatly, so perfectly, their bodies uniquely aligned, that he knew there would be something right about watching them onscreen.
Their bodies moved in unison, dropping into a familiar pace: first slow, and then punishing. Skin slapped skin and Charlie swore almost constantly. The moans that came from his lips as Boone moved within him were so pornographic that Boone was relieved to know that they were recorded.
Some time later, when they'd caught their breath and Charlie had fallen into a sated sleep, Boone slipped from their bed to take the camera downstairs, determined to watch - and rewatch, and rewatch - their film as many times as he could.
Pairing: Boone/Charlie
Word Count: 981
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For Janie_tangerine. AU wherein neither died. Total PWP.
Summary: Boone decides to take a video camera to bed with them.
Charlie eyed the video camera sitting innocently at the foot of their bed with no small amount of suspicion. "If this ends up on YouTube or anything," he told Boone as they tumbled awkwardly onto the mattress, "I will sodding castrate you."
"Relax," Boone mumbled, pressing his lips against the soft hollow of Charlie's neck. "I won't turn you into the next Paris Hilton."
Charlie snorted and mumbled something that sounded like a threat, but Boone knew that if Charlie had any real objections to the recording then he would have said so - loudly and incessantly - from the first moment that it had been suggested. Charlie wasn't known for keeping his opinions to himself, after all.
With the small red light of the camera shining at them, Boone shed their clothes, batting away Charlie's hands when he tried to help: he only succeeded in making Charlie laugh at him when he did so, but a kiss and a scrape of teeth against his bottom lip was enough to silence that. He had his ways of controlling Charlie's mockery and sarcasm. A master manipulator: after all, he'd learned from Shannon. He'd learned from the best.
"So what are you going to do with this little videotape once you've got it?" Charlie asked, with a curious lilt to his voice that was almost certainly put on.
"What do you think I'm going to do with it?" Boone replied, stripping the last item of clothing from their bodies. It dropped to the ground at the side of their bed and left them here: nude, hard, and ready. His heart raced and he wished that he could see what was being recorded. He wished that he didn't have to wait to watch it.
"If I knew that, sunshine, I wouldn't have asked, would I?" Charlie's hands rested on his chest, over his heart. There was a wicked gleam to his eyes and Boone knew what he wanted: he wanted to hear Boone telling him why it was that he'd asked to set that camera up.
Coaxing Charlie around onto his hands and knees - and glad that, for once, he didn't comment on it, because bickering about positions wasn't exactly what he'd intended on capturing - Boone dropped a kiss to Charlie's shoulders. "No, seriously," he answered, whispering words to his bare skin. "What do you think I want it for?"
It was like a wordless battle to see who was going to say it first, though Boone knew he'd relent soon. Leaning across Charlie's body Boone found protection and lube in his hands by the time that Charlie gave a reply.
"I think you're going to watch it."
Boone snorted. "Well, yeah. That's sorta what you do with videos."
He pushed a single, slicked-up digit inside his boyfriend, and it was probably that blunt action that stopped the response for being as bitingly sarcastic as it would have otherwise been. "You're going to watch it when I'm not here, right? When I'm busy with the band and stuff."
'The band and stuff' had very quickly become the bane of Boone's existence, always stealing Charlie away. The popularity boost following the rescue had been all that Driveshaft had needed to take off, apparently. If he'd thought it would stop him from leaving so often then maybe he would have leaked this clip online - but, knowing Charlie's fan base, it would do nothing of the sort.
His fingers worked Charlie open, a short task when he was relaxed and experienced. "You are away a lot…" he agreed.
"A whole lot," Charlie confirmed: he was beginning to feel breathless by now. "I can understand how you'd need a - fuck - replacement. Distraction. One of those." His eyes were screwed shut and Boone curled his fingers against his prostate again: there was something especially delightful about making Charlie lose track of his words. It happened way too rarely outside of the bedroom.
"A replacement?" he repeated, pulling his fingers free. The whine that he could hear made it impossible not to smile. "Does that mean you want me to start fucking around?"
Hearing that, Charlie tried to kick him - and thankfully missed, only succeeding in nudging Boone's knee. "Try it and I'll kill you," he murmured.
Boone knew that the grin on his face was disgustingly sappy, and that if Shannon saw it she would probably sneer at him for it, but there was something about this thing between him and Charlie that meant that not smiling was impossible. Who'd have ever thought that crash-landing on an island would be the best thing that ever happened to either of them?
"Are you even doing anything back there?" Charlie complained, peering over his shoulder, so Boone hurried up. He rolled the condom on over his achingly hard cock and slicked himself up in a rush.
Before he could enter Charlie his eyes flicked up to look at the lens of the camera and he bit his bottom lip as he thought of the image captured there: of how Charlie must have looked kneeling before him wantonly and of the pink flush that would colour his cheeks, now recorded forever. His mouth dropped to Charlie's bare shoulder, muffling moans there when he guided himself inside the familiar clasp of Charlie's body. They fit together so neatly, so perfectly, their bodies uniquely aligned, that he knew there would be something right about watching them onscreen.
Their bodies moved in unison, dropping into a familiar pace: first slow, and then punishing. Skin slapped skin and Charlie swore almost constantly. The moans that came from his lips as Boone moved within him were so pornographic that Boone was relieved to know that they were recorded.
Some time later, when they'd caught their breath and Charlie had fallen into a sated sleep, Boone slipped from their bed to take the camera downstairs, determined to watch - and rewatch, and rewatch - their film as many times as he could.