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kathierif_ficTitle: Wanted (CSI:NY, Sheldon Hawkes/Don Flack)
Author: kathierif_fic
Prompt: #5: breathplay for![[community profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo
Rating: FRAO
Warnings: might be constructed as a hint of consent issues, slash, breathplay
Summary: Sheldon doesn't know how Don does it. 1259 words.
~*+*~
Sheldon doesn't know how Don does it.
By all means, Don should be breathless, out of coherent words and nothing more than just a puddle of panting sounds by now, but he's still grinning up at Sheldon, blue eyes blazing with a teasing glint, dark hair sweaty and in disarray after Sheldon tangled his fingers in it to hold Don still for a bruising kiss or two. His grin is sharp-edged, almost dangerous. His legs are pressed up against his chest, pinned there by Sheldon's body. Every now and then, Sheldon can feel a heel dig into his own sweaty back, urging him on.
Egging him on.
He's doing this on purpose, Sheldon knows, all the little touches and shifts, every smile teasing Sheldon and tugging at little strands of the fabric of his self-control, unraveling it a little bit more.
The glances and smiles, the tight grip of Don's body around him, those are all things Sheldon could live with. They are all things that don't rattle him, things he welcomes.
He can deal with all that without losing his cool.
But there is more.
There are the words.
Words that constantly drip from those lips, like water drops from a broken bathroom faucet.
It's driving him crazy, and Don knows it.
Don is good at that, at goading people with words until they admit everything; until they give him what he wants.
The tip of a pink tongue sneaks out, to lick at a lip, and the smirk under him widens slightly.
"What, that's all you got?" Don asks. His chest is rising and falling faster now, breath coming in shorter gasps, but he's still talking, still taunting, words like little barbs burying under Sheldon's prickling skin.
"You're a teddy bear," Don says and grins amusedly. "A giant, cuddly teddy bear - I thought you wanted to -"
The rest of his sentence is muffled by Sheldon's hand pressing down on his mouth. The words keep tumbling out, but they can't get past Sheldon's palm. Sheldon can still feel his jaw and lips move, but all he hears is sound, white noise, no more words.
It's a rush of relief, and his hips jerk as his pace picks up involuntarily and he fucks Don, skin gliding against skin slick with lube and sweat. He keeps his eyes trained on Don's face, registering the sharp contrast of Don's pale, now red-blotched, flushed skin against his own darker hand, the way his nostrils flare and those blue eyes suddenly widen, just a fraction, and suddenly, he is overwhelmed by an intense feeling of possessiveness.
He feels helpless at the emotions playing havoc with him, and when Don finally stops talking, Sheldon bends over and replaces his palm with his mouth. Don tries to catch his breath, sucking in air like a drowning man while Sheldon kisses him, and Sheldon thrusts deep into his body and pulls his mouth away to look at Don's face.
He lifts his hand, slowly, deliberately, and clamps it down over Don's mouth and nose.
He should stop this. He knows he should. This is dangerous, and he should stop and make sure Don is okay with him doing this, should think of a safeword, should make sure it's safe; he is a doctor, he should know better, he should...
Don's fingers wrap around his wrist and squeeze once, and Sheldon's circling thoughts stop immediately.
He keeps staring into Don's eyes and shifts his hips, pulling out and away from the tight heat of Don's body until just the tip of his own erection is in Don's body, and then, he thrusts back in, at first slow, enjoying the rasp of skin on skin despite the copious amount of lube he insisted on.
Don's eyes widen and he squeezes Sheldon's wrist again. Immediately, Sheldon removes his hand and lets Don gasp for air, gentles his thrusts and brushes his hand over Don's hair soothingly.
Don grins at him and pushes back. Sheldon kisses him again, tongues slick and hot where they slide around each other before he presses his hand over Don's face again.
Don's life is in his hands, he thinks. Don trusts him to recognize it when he needs to breathe, trusts him to let go, but in the end, it's Sheldon's choice.
He has the power.
Don trusts him.
He could keep his hand where it is, he thinks, dizzy with all the trust Don puts into him and with arousal, and watch Don struggle, watch him get weak, the light in his bright blue eyes dimming...
The thought is like ice water straight to his brain and almost enough to make him feel nauseous. He suddenly wonders what he's doing here. He never wants to harm Don, only wants both of them to be happy and -
Don's fingers squeeze his wrist, and Sheldon slides his hand down, over Don's chin, stubble rasping against his palm, down to Don's pale throat, fingers caressing slightly over the pulsepoints there.
He doesn't want to press down and squeeze, he knows that with sharp clarity. He just wants...
Something in his belly tightens when Don makes a soft sound, his breath hitching. Blunt nails scratch Sheldon's shoulders, his scalp, and leave a sharp burn behind. Powerful legs wrap around him and hold him close. He can feel the slick tip of Don's erection rubbing against his stomach, can feel Don's body clenching tightly around him, and the arousal curled tight in him releases like a spring wound too tight and he comes. The arm holding him up trembles, the hand resting on Don's chest presses down, feeling strong muscles, and he knows that somewhere under there, a strong heart is beating and a set of lungs is doing its job.
Don hisses, arches his back, and comes as well. Sheldon gives in to his body's demands and collapses on top of him. Blood rushes in his ears, his own heart is racing, he's gasping, but then Don wraps his arm around Sheldon's neck and holds him close.
They only stay like this for a brief moment before Sheldon straightens slightly. He pulls out, rearranges Don's lanky body into a more comfortable position, and cleans them up a little.
Don looks at him from half-closed eyes.
"You feelin' better now?" he asks, his voice soft and mellow.
Sheldon nods and brushes his fingers along Don's ribs. "I do," he admits. "Thanks, man."
Don grins. "Anytime." He runs a hand over his face. "Case got you really bad, huh?" he then asks, even if he knows the answer already. "Because that was new."
Sheldon grimaces, embarrassment prickling hot and uncomfortable under his skin. He doesn't know what got into him there, doesn't know where all those thoughts and emotions came from. "Sorry," he murmurs and stretches out next to Don again.
"It's okay." Don curls into him. "Was okay. I trust you."
The words are slurred, almost unintelligible, but they still make Sheldon smile.
"You can." Sheldon feels drowsy now, all his energy spent and exhaustion setting in. "I'm a doctor, I know what I'm doing."
Don huffs a breath of laughter against his shoulder.
"And also, I love you," Sheldon adds. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, Don."
It's quiet for a long time, the sound of their breathing the only thing he can hear, and Sheldon is almost asleep when Don softly says, "Yeah, I know that."
It's enough to make him fall asleep with a smile on his face.
~end.
Author: kathierif_fic
Prompt: #5: breathplay for
kink_bingoRating: FRAO
Warnings: might be constructed as a hint of consent issues, slash, breathplay
Summary: Sheldon doesn't know how Don does it. 1259 words.
~*+*~
Sheldon doesn't know how Don does it.
By all means, Don should be breathless, out of coherent words and nothing more than just a puddle of panting sounds by now, but he's still grinning up at Sheldon, blue eyes blazing with a teasing glint, dark hair sweaty and in disarray after Sheldon tangled his fingers in it to hold Don still for a bruising kiss or two. His grin is sharp-edged, almost dangerous. His legs are pressed up against his chest, pinned there by Sheldon's body. Every now and then, Sheldon can feel a heel dig into his own sweaty back, urging him on.
Egging him on.
He's doing this on purpose, Sheldon knows, all the little touches and shifts, every smile teasing Sheldon and tugging at little strands of the fabric of his self-control, unraveling it a little bit more.
The glances and smiles, the tight grip of Don's body around him, those are all things Sheldon could live with. They are all things that don't rattle him, things he welcomes.
He can deal with all that without losing his cool.
But there is more.
There are the words.
Words that constantly drip from those lips, like water drops from a broken bathroom faucet.
It's driving him crazy, and Don knows it.
Don is good at that, at goading people with words until they admit everything; until they give him what he wants.
The tip of a pink tongue sneaks out, to lick at a lip, and the smirk under him widens slightly.
"What, that's all you got?" Don asks. His chest is rising and falling faster now, breath coming in shorter gasps, but he's still talking, still taunting, words like little barbs burying under Sheldon's prickling skin.
"You're a teddy bear," Don says and grins amusedly. "A giant, cuddly teddy bear - I thought you wanted to -"
The rest of his sentence is muffled by Sheldon's hand pressing down on his mouth. The words keep tumbling out, but they can't get past Sheldon's palm. Sheldon can still feel his jaw and lips move, but all he hears is sound, white noise, no more words.
It's a rush of relief, and his hips jerk as his pace picks up involuntarily and he fucks Don, skin gliding against skin slick with lube and sweat. He keeps his eyes trained on Don's face, registering the sharp contrast of Don's pale, now red-blotched, flushed skin against his own darker hand, the way his nostrils flare and those blue eyes suddenly widen, just a fraction, and suddenly, he is overwhelmed by an intense feeling of possessiveness.
He feels helpless at the emotions playing havoc with him, and when Don finally stops talking, Sheldon bends over and replaces his palm with his mouth. Don tries to catch his breath, sucking in air like a drowning man while Sheldon kisses him, and Sheldon thrusts deep into his body and pulls his mouth away to look at Don's face.
He lifts his hand, slowly, deliberately, and clamps it down over Don's mouth and nose.
He should stop this. He knows he should. This is dangerous, and he should stop and make sure Don is okay with him doing this, should think of a safeword, should make sure it's safe; he is a doctor, he should know better, he should...
Don's fingers wrap around his wrist and squeeze once, and Sheldon's circling thoughts stop immediately.
He keeps staring into Don's eyes and shifts his hips, pulling out and away from the tight heat of Don's body until just the tip of his own erection is in Don's body, and then, he thrusts back in, at first slow, enjoying the rasp of skin on skin despite the copious amount of lube he insisted on.
Don's eyes widen and he squeezes Sheldon's wrist again. Immediately, Sheldon removes his hand and lets Don gasp for air, gentles his thrusts and brushes his hand over Don's hair soothingly.
Don grins at him and pushes back. Sheldon kisses him again, tongues slick and hot where they slide around each other before he presses his hand over Don's face again.
Don's life is in his hands, he thinks. Don trusts him to recognize it when he needs to breathe, trusts him to let go, but in the end, it's Sheldon's choice.
He has the power.
Don trusts him.
He could keep his hand where it is, he thinks, dizzy with all the trust Don puts into him and with arousal, and watch Don struggle, watch him get weak, the light in his bright blue eyes dimming...
The thought is like ice water straight to his brain and almost enough to make him feel nauseous. He suddenly wonders what he's doing here. He never wants to harm Don, only wants both of them to be happy and -
Don's fingers squeeze his wrist, and Sheldon slides his hand down, over Don's chin, stubble rasping against his palm, down to Don's pale throat, fingers caressing slightly over the pulsepoints there.
He doesn't want to press down and squeeze, he knows that with sharp clarity. He just wants...
Something in his belly tightens when Don makes a soft sound, his breath hitching. Blunt nails scratch Sheldon's shoulders, his scalp, and leave a sharp burn behind. Powerful legs wrap around him and hold him close. He can feel the slick tip of Don's erection rubbing against his stomach, can feel Don's body clenching tightly around him, and the arousal curled tight in him releases like a spring wound too tight and he comes. The arm holding him up trembles, the hand resting on Don's chest presses down, feeling strong muscles, and he knows that somewhere under there, a strong heart is beating and a set of lungs is doing its job.
Don hisses, arches his back, and comes as well. Sheldon gives in to his body's demands and collapses on top of him. Blood rushes in his ears, his own heart is racing, he's gasping, but then Don wraps his arm around Sheldon's neck and holds him close.
They only stay like this for a brief moment before Sheldon straightens slightly. He pulls out, rearranges Don's lanky body into a more comfortable position, and cleans them up a little.
Don looks at him from half-closed eyes.
"You feelin' better now?" he asks, his voice soft and mellow.
Sheldon nods and brushes his fingers along Don's ribs. "I do," he admits. "Thanks, man."
Don grins. "Anytime." He runs a hand over his face. "Case got you really bad, huh?" he then asks, even if he knows the answer already. "Because that was new."
Sheldon grimaces, embarrassment prickling hot and uncomfortable under his skin. He doesn't know what got into him there, doesn't know where all those thoughts and emotions came from. "Sorry," he murmurs and stretches out next to Don again.
"It's okay." Don curls into him. "Was okay. I trust you."
The words are slurred, almost unintelligible, but they still make Sheldon smile.
"You can." Sheldon feels drowsy now, all his energy spent and exhaustion setting in. "I'm a doctor, I know what I'm doing."
Don huffs a breath of laughter against his shoulder.
"And also, I love you," Sheldon adds. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, Don."
It's quiet for a long time, the sound of their breathing the only thing he can hear, and Sheldon is almost asleep when Don softly says, "Yeah, I know that."
It's enough to make him fall asleep with a smile on his face.
~end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-24 11:51 am (UTC)"It's okay." Don curls into him. "Was okay. I trust you."
is my favorite line.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-24 05:14 pm (UTC)