![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: Wiseman
Fandom: CSINY
Pairing: Sheldon Hawkes/Don Flack
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “You very smart. Very wise – and old.”
A/N: For kink_bingo, prompt “ageplay”. 1102 words.
Sheldon quietly turned the key in the lock and opened the door carefully. He had pulled a double shift at the lab and, after a brief nap, had volunteered at Central Park, and now it was almost midnight and he was exhausted.
All he really wanted was to go to bed.
The lights were still turned on, despite the late hour. The TV was running, but the volume was set low enough not to disturb the man sprawled on the couch, long limbs loose.
“Hey,” Sheldon greeted softly and dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, a bowl he had brought here with him.
“Hey, Doc,” Don grinned. He’d grinned and teased about the bowl when he’d put it there, on the table, but his key were in there now, too. It made Sheldon smile every time he saw it.
“Thought you’d be long asleep,” Sheldon called over his shoulder as he took off his shoes.
“No.” Don chuckled. “Not tired yet. I’m not old like you.”
A laugh escaped Sheldon. He hung his jacket and turned toward Don, who was no with his head almost on the floor.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“Maybe a little,” Don admitted with a wide smirk. “I was waiting for you.”
“Why?” Sheldon asked and sat down next to him. He reached out and brushed warm fingertips over the strip of skin exposed between Don’s waistband and the hem of his shirt.
Don shrugged and brought his head back up. “Because I want to have sex with you,” he replied.
“I don’t think so,” Sheldon pointed out. “You’re drunk, and I’m beat.”
“You mean you’re too old,” Don said. “Don’t try to deny it, I’m a good detective, I detect that you’re old.”
Sheldon shook his head and teased his fingertips under the waistband of Don’s pants. “You’re drunk,” he repeated. “You know that a man’s ability to get and sustain an erection…” Don gave him an amused grin, and Sheldon rolled his eyes and brushed his hand lower. “Can you even get it up?”
“Sure I can,” Don said. “I’m not old and fragile…”
“Old and fragile?” Sheldon shook his head and started to open Don’s pants.
“If the shoe fits,” Don grinned and lifted his hips, to help Sheldon tug off his pants.
“Well,” Sheldon said and traced the outline of Don’s dick through the cotton of his underwear. “I prefer to think of it as wisdom, not age.”
“Sure, whatever you say, grandpa.” Don’s legs fell open invitingly.
“You’re not too old to be put over my knee, brat,” Sheldon threatened mockingly and cupped his hand over Don’s stirring arousal.
“See, you are really old,” Don grinned and arched his back. “More?”
Sheldon smiled. “Well, kid,” he said and raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you come and sit in my lap?”
He’d meant it as a joke, a continuation of their teasing, but Don sat up and pulled himself into Sheldon’s lap, his arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He leaned close and nibbled gently on the shell of Sheldon’s ear.
“Maybe you’re right,” Don murmured playfully and moved his hips, rubbing himself against Sheldon, and despite his exhaustion, Sheldon felt himself respond.
“Right about what?”
Don leaned back and started to fumble with the buttons of Sheldon’s pants. It took him a while to open them, but then, he reached inside and grasped Sheldon’s erection with the air of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
“Gentle,” Sheldon murmured against Don’s cheek when Don’s fingers grew too tight and uncomfortable.
“Fragile,” Don replied, “you’re an old man, Shel.” He said the words with a hint of teasing, but a lot of warmth and genuine affection in his voice, and Sheldon quickly forgot about the small nag of annoyance the words started to cause and leave him with.
Instead of answering verbally, he used his free hand to grab Don by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Don’s tongue brushed against his, slick and agile and exciting, and Sheldon licked into his mouth with a single-minded focus. Don tasted like stale coffee and mint and the barest hint of alcohol, and he was moaning softly as the sound of flesh on flesh and mouth on mouth filled Sheldon’s ears.
He swirled his thumb over the tip of Don’s erection, smearing fluid over the silky skin of his length and easing the movement of his hand, and Don copied his actions like an obedient pupil.
It was nice. The touch was almost a little too dry, the callouses on Don’s fingers catching against the sensitive ridge of Sheldon’s dick, but he didn’t mind too much; not enough to get up and fetch the lube from the bedroom.
Don moaned and pulled away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against Sheldon’s. Sheldon brushed his hand from the nape of Don’s neck down the arch of his spine to the curve of his ass without breaking the rhythm he’d set, a rhythm Don was copying with his long fingers tightening around the slick head of Sheldon’s cock.
Arousal coiled deep and tight in him. He pressed his eyes shut and let himself ride the wave higher and higher, until it broke and he was drowning in sensation. Sticky milky-white fluid ran over Don’s fingers and dripped onto Sheldon’s stomach and thighs, smearing into his clothes and leaving a mark.
Moments later, Don followed him over the edge.
For a moment, they remained frozen in place, silently trying to catch their breath, but then, Don chuckled and stripped off his shirt to clean them both up with it.
“Not bad for an old man,” he said.
Sheldon groaned. “You’re less drunk than you wanted to make me believe,” he accused and brushed his fingertips along the edge of the scars on Don’s lean stomach. “So drop it already.”
Don shrugged. “Yeah,” he said before grinning again. “You know, not getting it up when drunk and stuff.”
“Not a problem a young kid like you ever experienced?” Sheldon deadpanned, not pointing out that Don wasn’t that much younger than himself, before shaking his head. “You were playing me.”
“Practicing for some undercover work,” Don smiled as he stood and stretched. “You know, that murder case at that home for the elderly.” He didn’t wait for Sheldon’s spluttered answer before continuing. “You gonna shower with me?” he asked and walked off toward the bathroom.
Sheldon chuckled and shook his head amusedly. He stood, picked up their discarded clothes and followed Don, fondly muttering under his breath, “brat.”
~end.
Fandom: CSINY
Pairing: Sheldon Hawkes/Don Flack
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “You very smart. Very wise – and old.”
A/N: For kink_bingo, prompt “ageplay”. 1102 words.
Sheldon quietly turned the key in the lock and opened the door carefully. He had pulled a double shift at the lab and, after a brief nap, had volunteered at Central Park, and now it was almost midnight and he was exhausted.
All he really wanted was to go to bed.
The lights were still turned on, despite the late hour. The TV was running, but the volume was set low enough not to disturb the man sprawled on the couch, long limbs loose.
“Hey,” Sheldon greeted softly and dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, a bowl he had brought here with him.
“Hey, Doc,” Don grinned. He’d grinned and teased about the bowl when he’d put it there, on the table, but his key were in there now, too. It made Sheldon smile every time he saw it.
“Thought you’d be long asleep,” Sheldon called over his shoulder as he took off his shoes.
“No.” Don chuckled. “Not tired yet. I’m not old like you.”
A laugh escaped Sheldon. He hung his jacket and turned toward Don, who was no with his head almost on the floor.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“Maybe a little,” Don admitted with a wide smirk. “I was waiting for you.”
“Why?” Sheldon asked and sat down next to him. He reached out and brushed warm fingertips over the strip of skin exposed between Don’s waistband and the hem of his shirt.
Don shrugged and brought his head back up. “Because I want to have sex with you,” he replied.
“I don’t think so,” Sheldon pointed out. “You’re drunk, and I’m beat.”
“You mean you’re too old,” Don said. “Don’t try to deny it, I’m a good detective, I detect that you’re old.”
Sheldon shook his head and teased his fingertips under the waistband of Don’s pants. “You’re drunk,” he repeated. “You know that a man’s ability to get and sustain an erection…” Don gave him an amused grin, and Sheldon rolled his eyes and brushed his hand lower. “Can you even get it up?”
“Sure I can,” Don said. “I’m not old and fragile…”
“Old and fragile?” Sheldon shook his head and started to open Don’s pants.
“If the shoe fits,” Don grinned and lifted his hips, to help Sheldon tug off his pants.
“Well,” Sheldon said and traced the outline of Don’s dick through the cotton of his underwear. “I prefer to think of it as wisdom, not age.”
“Sure, whatever you say, grandpa.” Don’s legs fell open invitingly.
“You’re not too old to be put over my knee, brat,” Sheldon threatened mockingly and cupped his hand over Don’s stirring arousal.
“See, you are really old,” Don grinned and arched his back. “More?”
Sheldon smiled. “Well, kid,” he said and raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you come and sit in my lap?”
He’d meant it as a joke, a continuation of their teasing, but Don sat up and pulled himself into Sheldon’s lap, his arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He leaned close and nibbled gently on the shell of Sheldon’s ear.
“Maybe you’re right,” Don murmured playfully and moved his hips, rubbing himself against Sheldon, and despite his exhaustion, Sheldon felt himself respond.
“Right about what?”
Don leaned back and started to fumble with the buttons of Sheldon’s pants. It took him a while to open them, but then, he reached inside and grasped Sheldon’s erection with the air of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
“Gentle,” Sheldon murmured against Don’s cheek when Don’s fingers grew too tight and uncomfortable.
“Fragile,” Don replied, “you’re an old man, Shel.” He said the words with a hint of teasing, but a lot of warmth and genuine affection in his voice, and Sheldon quickly forgot about the small nag of annoyance the words started to cause and leave him with.
Instead of answering verbally, he used his free hand to grab Don by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Don’s tongue brushed against his, slick and agile and exciting, and Sheldon licked into his mouth with a single-minded focus. Don tasted like stale coffee and mint and the barest hint of alcohol, and he was moaning softly as the sound of flesh on flesh and mouth on mouth filled Sheldon’s ears.
He swirled his thumb over the tip of Don’s erection, smearing fluid over the silky skin of his length and easing the movement of his hand, and Don copied his actions like an obedient pupil.
It was nice. The touch was almost a little too dry, the callouses on Don’s fingers catching against the sensitive ridge of Sheldon’s dick, but he didn’t mind too much; not enough to get up and fetch the lube from the bedroom.
Don moaned and pulled away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against Sheldon’s. Sheldon brushed his hand from the nape of Don’s neck down the arch of his spine to the curve of his ass without breaking the rhythm he’d set, a rhythm Don was copying with his long fingers tightening around the slick head of Sheldon’s cock.
Arousal coiled deep and tight in him. He pressed his eyes shut and let himself ride the wave higher and higher, until it broke and he was drowning in sensation. Sticky milky-white fluid ran over Don’s fingers and dripped onto Sheldon’s stomach and thighs, smearing into his clothes and leaving a mark.
Moments later, Don followed him over the edge.
For a moment, they remained frozen in place, silently trying to catch their breath, but then, Don chuckled and stripped off his shirt to clean them both up with it.
“Not bad for an old man,” he said.
Sheldon groaned. “You’re less drunk than you wanted to make me believe,” he accused and brushed his fingertips along the edge of the scars on Don’s lean stomach. “So drop it already.”
Don shrugged. “Yeah,” he said before grinning again. “You know, not getting it up when drunk and stuff.”
“Not a problem a young kid like you ever experienced?” Sheldon deadpanned, not pointing out that Don wasn’t that much younger than himself, before shaking his head. “You were playing me.”
“Practicing for some undercover work,” Don smiled as he stood and stretched. “You know, that murder case at that home for the elderly.” He didn’t wait for Sheldon’s spluttered answer before continuing. “You gonna shower with me?” he asked and walked off toward the bathroom.
Sheldon chuckled and shook his head amusedly. He stood, picked up their discarded clothes and followed Don, fondly muttering under his breath, “brat.”
~end.