saraid (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} saraid) wrote,@ 2006-10-30 19:05:00 |
|
| Current mood: |  annoyed |
| Entry tags: | huang/goren |
The Adventures of Bobby & George
“What do you want?” Bobby whispered. The way he said it, made George think he’d asked more than once. It was a struggle to raise his head to look down, to meet Bobby’s eyes to answer him.
Bobby Goren. Face flushed, big hands that almost encircled George’s thighs. His chin glistened wetly. George could look down the line of his chest, between well-developed pectoral muscles to his thick cock, which nestled close to George’s calf muscle, tucked firmly into the deep blue jacquard velvet comforter of the bed.
His eyes were so vibrant they seemed to light the dim room.
“I want you inside me,” George asked, as he seldom did. It made Bobby anxious and frightened him. And he truly did seem to enjoy bottoming more than topping. But tonight, their first night together as an official live-in couple – George wanted Bobby inside him.
“I thought you might say that.”
“Nothing you don’t want to do,” George reminded him of a promise made years ago.
Bobby lowered his face, hid it on George’s thigh. “I do.”
Half sitting, reaching with both hands to pet his sweaty, messy hair, George asked, “Then why are you hiding from me?”
There was a mumble he couldn’t quite make out. He used his fingers to tug at the ear he could reach.
“Bobby?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You never have before.” George sat all the way up, freeing his leg from Bobby’s grasp and rather brutally using his grip on both ears to haul his lover’s face into view. “Bobby?”
The bigger man pounced, tackling George back to the bed and straddling him on all fours. He had George by the wrists, which wasn’t a problem, his grip maybe a tiny bit tighter than usual.
“Bobby?” George tried again, actually starting to smile a little. He’d been trying to encourage his lover to be more aggressive, but only on Bobby’s terms. Nothing pretended for George’s sake. “Is this what *you* really want?”
“I really want *you*,” Bobby said harshly, loosening his grip so George could pull away if he wanted to. “George, I – I don’t know what to say. I feel like some kind of monster. I want to hold you and break you and hold you harder!” he looked away, hiding his face in his shoulder, but not moving. “I’ve never – *wanted* – like this. Before.”
Taking a deep breath, half-elated and half-worried by the unexpected confession, George caressed Bobby’s hands with his fingertips as he spoke in a low, soft voice. “Before me, or before ever?”
“You know the answer to that,” Bobby almost sounded accusing.
“Bobby, love. I love you. It’s – all right to lose control a little bit. It’s a normal part of sex, for most people.” George held onto Bobby’s hands, relieved when they turned over to hold his back. “You’re not going to hurt me. And if you do – I won’t mind.”
Bobby sat up on his knees, drawing his arms in, crossing them over his chest, face still turned away.
“Do we need to go back out to the living room?” George asked. It had happened more than once, preceding or following sex, a few memorable times during it.
“No,” Bobby whispered. “I don’t want that. I just wanted to…” he held up his hands and looked at George at last; that helpless, lost look that broke George’s heart every time he saw it. “I *want* you, more than ever before. I don’t understand.”
“It frightens you.”
“A big, scary smart guy like me? Nah,” Bobby tried to chuckle, but it caught in his throat. His arms moved lower, as if he didn’t know where to put them. George caught his hands, held them in midair between them.
“Detective Bobby Goren isn’t frightened of much, I’ll give you that. But little Bobby Goren, who never knew from one day to the next whether his mom would want him or not – that little guy’s scared of a lot of things.”
“He’s scared of turning into his mother,” Bobby said, his face going blank, calmness sliding over him.
“That’s not going to happen. If it hasn’t happened already, it’s not going to happen,” George said, extra gently. This was the turning point. If Bobby retreated into his professional shell, the evening was over. They would cuddle, read, talk, and go to sleep. If Bobby were too upset about something to come out from that shell to deal with him honestly, then nothing would happen. It was a rule that had caused friction in the past, but Bobby’s basically submissive nature had allowed George to set the rules and insist that they be followed.
“There are always exceptions,” Bobby whispered, leaning forward slowly. “I can’t – I’m afraid, George, I can’t – “
“I know, my love, I know,” George whispered back, catching him as he fell, arranging them face-to-face on the bed, wrapped around each other. “I won’t let you.”
Bobby held onto him as if George was the only solid thing in a spinning world, until gradually the fear eased and began to pass. They didn’t talk about it. It was too much a part of him to be discussed away. Just like George’s conviction that he was a disappointment to his parents, it was simply a factor of their lives, a part of Bobby’s psyche that was so indelibly etched that it would be there forever.
George was starting to drift in the warmth of the embrace when Bobby moved. The larger man gathered him close, one big hand pulling his wrists together so he could hold them that way.
“Mmm,” he hummed slightly. “Bobby?”
“You trust me.”
“I do.”
“Then I’m going to do what I want to do. What I know you want me to do.”
“Nothing you –“
“I want to – I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” Bobby dropped his voice to a growl “What you’ll look like with my fingerprints on you. My teeth in your shoulder while you moan under me. You’ll try to get away – you won’t be able to help it – but I won’t let you.”
“Bobby!” George was shocked, already so hard he could barely stand it; he tried to get closer, his cock on Bobby’s thigh, rubbing. “Don’t let me – don’t – “
“I won’t, beautiful,” Bobby breathed the promise over his lips. “I won’t.”
Then he kissed George, kissed him harder and more viciously than he’d ever dared before. Teeth cut lips and George lost his breath halfway through. He was gasping by the time Bobby let up, but it was only long enough to let him grab some air and then Bobby’s mouth was there, sealing it off.
George could taste blood, could feel Bobby’s hands tearing at his still halfway-on clothes. He felt his shirt tear and he didn’t care. His legs and feet became tangled in his slacks, there was a brief wrenching pain, he cried out, but it was swallowed in Bobby’s mouth. His hands were still firmly gripped; even the sweat that slicked them both wasn’t enough to slide them free.
“Bobby!” he shouted the next time he was allowed air, but there wasn’t an answer; Bobby was on his knees and flipping George over – to his back, which he hadn’t expected. They seldom did this face-to-face. They seldom did it at all. It was usually mouths and hands and kisses, rubbing and touching; as much because of the hours they kept as anything else. But the intimacy of face-to-face anal sex made Bobby Goren feel very, very vulnerable and George Huang had only been able to gentle him into it four memorable times.
“I’m here, beautiful,” Bobby panted at him. “I’m with you – I want to see you when I give you what we both want. I want to lift you in my hands and hold you over my cock and taste your neck as you beg me to stop and then beg me for more.”
“Jesus, Bobby, you found the words!”
“I did, didn’t I?” a dirty growl, and then cold gel at George’s anus, followed by tight heat surrounding his cock.
“Augh!!” The tight suction wasn’t letting up, there was no warm-up, no preparation for it – just heat and suction and two large, long fingers deep inside him, searching for and finding, the magic button. Bobby rubbed over it and George almost lifted off the bed. “No, Bobby, no, not so – not so – direct -!” he tried to gasp, but Bobby wasn’t listening. George kicked a bit, but Bobby was too big to move, and George’s hands were firmly gripped. He tossed his head from side to side and let himself fight it, the sensations so powerful he couldn’t help it.
“You like that?” Bobby’s voice was suddenly close. Fingers yanked out, not gently, and George was empty and sore, aching. He tried to lift his legs, to wrap them around Bobby, but Bobby was pushing them further apart with his own strong thighs, there was nothing George could do but gasp an answer to the question.
“Yes – Bobby, yes, love, more! Bobby!”
“I knew you would.” Bobby groaned now, his free hand busy at his own crotch, hopefully using a lot of lube. For such a large man he wasn’t particularly longer than average, but he was thick and heavy. “Knew you wanted me this way. Wanted me to be rough with you – I knew you wanted me to take you hard and fast –“
“Any way, Bobby-love, I want you any way I can have you –“ George managed to gasp out as his hips were lifted, legs left dangling. With an effort he got them up to Bobby’s hips, knees gripping them, but that was as far as he got before Bobby was pushing in. “Oh God, so big, Bobby, so hard –“
“Feel it, beautiful,” Bobby growled, and when George forced his own eyes open, forced himself to look up – he saw that Bobby was watching him. There was nothing calm or controlled in his handsome face now – nothing but a deep animal hunger and the flash of bared teeth. “Feel me in you?!”
“Bobby,” George gasped, whispered, and moaned. His hands were free now, but he didn’t reach for his lover. He fisted the velvet at his sides instead. “Yes. I feel you. You feel good. You feel like you belong.”
Bobby let out a long, low sound that might have been pain, and began to fuck George. It wasn’t slow and sweet, not gentle and loving, this was hard and fast, the way he’d promised. Every stroke slammed home with enough force to make George howl, half with pain and half with delight, but soon the glory of it overrode the pain and he was writhing with the need for more stimulation. He tried to reach for his cock, but his position was too precarious; Bobby had his hips lifted high in the air, his shoulders and head hanging low, barely holding on with his knees. If he let go with a hand, his upper body would swing free.
“Let go,” Bobby whispered, leaning all the way over, his teeth grazing right over George’s jugular. “Let go of it all, baby. I’ll catch you.”
“Bobby, God…” George panted, but he did. It was an effort, his hands were cramped all to hell, but he let go of the comforter and his head swung wildly as Bobby found some hidden well of strength and pounded him harder. Each hand was a glowing vise of pain on a hip, George’s bones too close to the surface for that kind of pressure, but he didn’t care. It all felt too good. Too dammed good. He reached for his aching, leaking cock and worked it mercilessly, the new pain just adding icing to the cake. He wanted to look up, there was blood rushing to his brain, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open –
Suddenly thick arms came around his waist and lifted him, yanked him upwards until his nose bounced off a sweat-slicked chest.
“No passing out,” Bobby panted. “Not until I’ve had my fill of your tight ass.”
“Gooooodddddd…..” George moaned. Bobby never talked dirty. He just didn’t.
“Hang on, baby, just a couple more minutes and I’ll be done with you –“ Bobby’s hands were lifting George and bringing him down on his cock, impaling him, harder each time. “Hang on, just a couple more minutes –“
“Bobby, it –“ George wanted to say it hurts, he wanted to say stop, but what he said was “- your teeth, you promised me teeth, Bobby, please –“
With another moan, Bobby leaned forward and bit him hard at the juncture of neck and shoulder, hanging on tight, gnawing at the spot. George was moaning helplessly now, his entire body rigid as orgasm took him, and then he went limp, hanging in Bobby’s arms.
“Fuck!” Bobby shouted once. He shoved George back down on the bed and lifted his hips again, regaining his previous punishing pace. His mouth found the spot he’d been chewing; George was certain he’d drawn blood by now, but he didn’t care.
He could open his eyes at last, every part of his own body beyond pain or pleasure, and see the abandon in his lover’s face. See the slackness of Bobby’s expression, the darkness of his eyes, the open need. They were less than an inch apart and Bobby’s eyes were focused on George, on nothing but him, he wasn’t turned inward, he wasn’t thinking of anything else; if there *were* any thoughts in Bobby Goren’s head at that instant, they were only of George Huang.
“God God God GodGodGodGodGODGODGODGOOOOD!!!!!!!!!!!” B
There was a moment of panting, gasping silence and then Bobby was pawing at George, shaking him, disturbing his well-earned afterglow. George would have ignored it, except that Bobby was shaking and he seemed to have stopped breathing and there were tears streaming from his eyes.
“Bobby, Bobby, love, I’m okay, I’m alright, I’m wonderful…” he tried to sit, found it too painful, rolled to his side instead, losing Bobby’s weight in the process. “I’m okay. I love you. That was wonderful.”
Instead of answering him, Bobby hitched his breath on a sob. George gathered him as close as he could, holding him tightly despite the pain it caused as his well-used body made its feelings on the matter known. “It’s okay. Cry if you need to. I’ll still be here when you’re done. I’ll always be here, love.”
“George,” Bobby gasped, but he didn’t reach for him. The big man folded in on himself, his arms curled to his chest like a child’s, his face hidden under George’s chin. He drew his knees up and curled as tightly into himself as he could, leaving George to adjust his hold around him, to cradle as much of Bobby as he could given their difference in sizes.
“Shhh,” George whispered, stroking his hair. The room smelled of sex and sweat and just a hint of blood, but it was a good smell. He had enjoyed Bobby’s attentions completely, and he really thought Bobby understood that. This – this was about something else. Something inside his lover, who had been wound too tight since the day he’d been born. “I’ve got you. I love you.”
The sobs were heart wrenching. George was afraid Bobby would make himself sick. He didn’t look at the clock, the one in the bedroom wasn’t actually easy to see, a deliberate choice. They both used their cell phones as alarms most of the time, and the bedroom felt safer, more like a refuge, without the stark reality of the clock intruding on it. So it was hidden behind a carved edge of George’s dresser, to be sought out when needed.
Finally the sobs eased, the sounds tapered off. George continued to kiss Bobby’s face, what he could reach of it. When he thought it was safe he pried Bobby’s arms loose and slipped between them, at this point needing the contact almost as badly as he thought Bobby did.
When Bobby spoke it was from the general vicinity of George’s chest.
“I was supposed to catch you.” He sounded so sad.
“I’m happy to do the honors.”
Bobby remained silent. With anyone else, after the emotional day, the sex and then the draining emotional outburst, George would have thought they had fallen asleep – but he knew better in this case. He tried, tentatively, to lighten the atmosphere. “My official diagnosis is emotional overload, in case you’re wondering.”
“I’m wondering if I need diagnosing for crying after sex.” Still no movement, except a vague easing of tension in the taut body; George took that as a good sign.
“Not generally, but I know. You’ll want an answer, even if just now. Later you’ll be ready to let it go.”
“As long as I don’t have to let you go, I think I’m good.”
George laughed softly. “That can be arranged.
Quiet reined for a bit. Bobby’s breathing evened out became softly normal again. Bobby was at rest. Or maybe not quite, considering his next words.
“George? Are you good?”
“I’m great, love. Very relaxed.”
“Not too sore, I hope.”
“No more than I expected.” It was an honest answer. He had been expecting a certain amount of pain from rough sex with Bobby. It hadn’t been that rough, truly, they both knew that. Bobby was just a larger, stronger man, capable of inflicting injury without intending to.
“I meant to hold you, while we rested.” It sounded like another confession. “Then I would get up and clean you. Take care of you. Bring you a glass of wine. Tuck you into bed. Hold you a while longer.”
“I would have liked that.” George’s eyes misted slightly.
“I wanted to show you how much I appreciated it, all of it. Wanting me in your life. Wanting me in your space. Wanting me in your body.”
“There will be other times to do that, and other ways. You show me all of those things just by being here. You know that.”
Bobby raised his head at last. George lowered his so they could kiss, softly, tasting each other. There was a copper tang to Bobby’s mouth. George probably needed to see how badly he was bitten.
“I love you,” Bobby said. “I don’t think I’ve ever said those words to anyone else and meant them. I’ve written them on cards – birthday cards and Christmas cards – to Eames – but I don’t think she knows I mean it. And it’s not the same.”
“I love you. And I know you’ve never said them to anyone else and meant them.” George shifted. Yes, indeed, he was sore. The best thing for it now was sleep, since he wasn’t about to rouse Bobby for a shower and neither of them would stay awake long enough for a bath.
“You’re uncomfortable,” Bobby said. “I’m being selfish. Here, let me –“ with casual strength he lifted George, got the covers sorted and the both of them settled on pillows and tucked in. “Not quite what I had planned but I could get you something to drink, if you’d like?”
“I think I just want to sleep.”
There was no question he wanted Bobby to stay. It was one of their first rules. No matter how long he managed to stay in the bed, Bobby went to bed when George did. He could read or watch television if he couldn’t go to sleep when George did, but they needed to establish a sleeping pattern that involved the two of them.
“I can’t sleep yet.” Bobby sat up on his pillows, reached for his book. Opened it on one knee, looked at George. “Can I – hold you? While you fall asleep.”
“Yes, please.” The thought of being physically separated so soon after the rawness of the sex was almost painful. George wasn’t sure if Bobby was picking up on that or if he felt the same thing. “I wanted you to ask that. I may have needed it.”
“I –“ Bobby looked away, but he wasn’t hiding. George knew him well enough to tell. He was thinking. “I think I needed it too.” He pulled George close, letting him settle with his head on Bobby’s shoulder, a tuck of comforter to cushion it. “It did scare me.”
“Letting go like that?”
“When you came, I was certain I would hurt you. I was so close – I needed to come so badly. But I couldn’t seem to get deep enough. It was like I couldn’t go far enough inside you.”
“Felt pretty far to me,” George tempered the words with a snicker. He ran a hand down under the covers, where Bobby’s organ lay flaccid and still, practically glued to his flank by their various liquids.
“Holding you like that – I just wanted to get you closer. It was like I wanted to become a part of you.” Bobby closed his eyes briefly, as if he was in pain, and then opened them to stare at George. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
It seemed that their emotional intimacy was finally catching up to the physical. Or something like that. George was suddenly too tired for introspection. “You’re falling in love with me,” he answered simply.
“I’ve loved you for months. Over a year!”
“The physical side is just catching up, love,” George kissed his shoulder. “I’ve felt this way for ages.”
“Is this why those people do all those crazy things?”
“The crazy ones, yes.”
Bobby suddenly held him tighter. “Will it always feel this way? I might really hurt you!”
“It gets easier as times goes by.”
The bigger man let out an explosive breath. “Maybe we should avoid sex for a while.”
George couldn’t help it. He laughed. “That will only make it worse.”
Bobby stared at him, then reluctantly smiled, a small smile, but still. A smile. He kissed the top of George’s head, and then sought out his mouth.
“You’re right. I’d be hijacking you in the station halls.”
George shivered at the words and Bobby’s smile grew to an all-too-rare grin. “Did I just find a kink? Mr. Buttoned-up Dr. George Huang has a thing for public sex?”
“Semi-public, risky sex, but it will never, ever be acted on,” George said sternly. “And I’m sure we’ll find a kink or two in King-of-Repression Bobby Goren’s closet.”
“We already have,” Bobby sighed. “I want to mind-meld with my lover. Only a full-body mind-meld, which I don’t think even the Vulcans recommended.”
“I don’t know much about the Vulcans, but I can think of a few positions you might like,” George said, yawning.
“Really?” Bobby looked interested. “I haven’t done much research…”
“And you shouldn’t, it will only make you feel bad,” George warned sternly.
“But there are positions that will help this need to crawl inside you and take up residence?”
“There are,” George said, and was rewarded by a sweet, sweet smile. “Now you’re going to read and I’m going to sleep and tomorrow we are going to enjoy a rare day off together. Will that suit you?”
“Anything you want to do suits me, George. Every day with you is an adventure.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Held closely, with the occasional kiss to his face or head, George Huang dozed off in the arms of the man he loved. He now knew, fully knew, that this man loved him back without reservation, despite any emotional retardation he might suffer.
If anything made life an adventure, it was taking a chance and loving a man like Bobby Goren.
~~ the end ~~
~~ the end ~~
