Title: Let Me Always
Warnings: INCEST. And a tad bit of angst.
Summary: They've always wanted it, but never had it.
Disclaimer: Srsly? Yeah right.
Beta: Thank you to neur0vanity for the help and the constant encouragment, and as always to meletor_et_al for being amazing.
Listen to "The Space Between" by Dave Matthews Band
"To eachother we'll be facing
My love, by love, we'll beat back the pain we've found
I mean to tell you all the things I've been thinking
Deep inside my friend..."
-"Crush" Dave Matthews Band
"Charlie, we can't. There's way too much at risk. Remember what happened in Stockton?" Oh, Charlie remembered.
The star pitcher walked in on Don giving Charlie a hand job in the locker room. The only reason their lives weren't destroyed
then was that Don threatened to tell the GM about his steroid use and his steroid dealing.
It was the last time they'd been together, and it had been festering between them ever since.
Lies. Lies to eachother, to themselves, and it was only a matter of time before it came to a head, figuratively speaking.
That time wasn't now, however. They were both entirely too stubborn for it to be resolved any faster than at a snail's pace.
"I know. I know that. The risk doesn't change the reality, Don." Charlie flopped down on the couch, a dejected
lump in Don's brand new apartment. "I don't know what to do."
Don licked his lips. Started forward, stopped just as abruptly. He settled for a sigh and a headshake. "Me either,
After their mother died, it was up to Don to piece Charlie back together. A hard enough task given the straight facts,
but add in their particular circumstances and it was impossible. Impossible to deal with, impossible to fix, impossible to
see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Fortunately, time and some blurring of the boundaries between brother and lover helped. Charlie started to come around,
leaving the garage, getting back to his life. Smiling. Don had forgotten how much he loved his little brother's smile. As
their family recovered from the loss of their mother, the boundaries became as sharp as ever.
It drove both of them crazy. They distanced themselves from each other as much as they could without raising the red flag.
Charlie was convinced it was worse than having Don around. It was all or nothing, and all simply wasn't an option.
Charlie had had enough. Don getting shot, the Spanish flu resurfacing, and now he'd almost gotten shot. Enough was enough.
He'd debated about it all day, but finally he decided to go to Don's. If he could just knock.
He took a deep breath, knocked, and hoped for the best.
"Charlie, what are you doing here?" Don was in a rumpled, unbuttoned dress shirt. Charlie swallowed thickly.
Don still hadn't shaved away his five o'clock shadow.
"I, um, can I come in?" Don nodded his head and moved aside. Charlie shuffled in and looked around nervously.
Don walked forward, confusion all over his face. He rested a hand on Charlie's shoulder. It gave Charlie all the courage he
needed. He reached up, placed his hand over Don's.
"What's wron--" Charlie rested a finger over his lips. He shook his head softly.
"Nothing's wrong. We need to stop this." He inched forward, into Don's personal space. He removed his finger.
Charlie's breath ghosted across Don's lips. "Donnie, please."
Don opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. He clenched his eyes shut and placed his lips over Charlie's. Charlie's
eyes slipped shut, relief flooding through him just at that. Charlie's hands grazed down Don's back. Don pulled back and before
he could even say anything, Charlie shook his head.
"Just one more night. Please," Charlie begged with his eyes, and Don could never say no. Don sucked in a breath,
let it out.
"Ok," he kissed him lightly on the temple, laced their hands together, and led Charlie to the bedroom. It started
to rain, a soundtrack to their vice. Don laid Charlie down on his bed, undressed Charlie and then himself, and slowly made
love to his brother. It was slow, it was lust, it was sin and love and everything they needed it to be. Don slid into Charlie's
body, bliss. He cupped Charlie's face, brushed his thumb over Charlie's wet cheekbone.
It was supposed to be one night. One night turned into once in a while, a bad case or a bad day an acceptable excuse.
Then it turned into a constant, an occurrence that didn't require an excuse. It was never emotionless sex, but it was sex,
and it seemed like they were making up for lost time. It was a lost cause. They grew somewhat comfortable in this unspoken
agreement, this concealed lifestyle.
Charlie was grading papers in the living room. The T.V. was off, his dad was in bed. Unsurprisingly, Don wasn't home yet.
It was only nine thirty. He'd been trying to ignore the niggling in the back of his head, the voice that kept telling him
that he needed to actually talk to Don. Just, anything, something to get them on solid ground, whether that ground was fucked
up or not. Charlie thinned his lips and set the exams on the table, placing the red pencil on top of the stack. He couldn't
grade graduate work when he was this distracted. Hoping his cognitive emergence work might combat the distraction, he headed
out into the garage.
He'd only been at it for thirty minutes when Don's SUV rolled up. Not like Charlie was aware of that fact. Don wandered
through the house and into the garage, leaning against the door frame with his beer, content to watch Charlie work. There
was something inherently sexy about the way Charlie went about his business, the way he was focused on what he was doing with
breathtaking intensity. The idea of having that intensity turned towards him had Don as hard as a rock within seconds. He
slowly meandered the rest of the way into the room. He didn't want to startle Charlie.
Charlie caught Don's movement out of the corner of his eye and removed his headphones. "Hey, brother. I didn't think
you'd be home for another hour at least." Don was wearing a black dress shirt and jeans, gaping collar. As always. Charlie
licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room.
"Well, we need our accountants to go over the files and there's nothing any of us could do until then, so we all
went home." Don's voice said that, but his tone and body language was conveying a completely different message. Finally
he was in front of Charlie, tugging at his belt loops and backing him against the chalkboard. "Gives me plenty of time
to act out a certain fantasy."
Charlie grinned, hoping this was going where it seemed to be. All thoughts of 'I need to talk to Don' and 'we need to
straighted this out' flew out the window. It was Don in front of him, his erection against his thigh, his fingers toying with
his belt loops, so what the hell did the rest matter? "Oh, and just what would that be?" Charlie slipped his hands
into Don's back pockets and pulled Don's groin forward. Don groaned, lowered his head to Charlie's ear.
"I thought I could fuck you against this chalkboard, make you moan my name." He punctuated it with a nip, and
Charlie responded with a breathless moan. Charlie grabbed Don's chin and turned his head, lips rough against Don's, demanding.
Don gave as good as he got, unbuttoned Charlie's jeans and started stroking his cock. The mechanics of it would be interesting,
but oh God there was nothing in Don's mind that could be as good as claiming Charlie up against the numbers that would always
captivate his brother. Charlie broke their kiss to thunk his head against the board. He brought his hands up to Don's shoulder
as Don's strokes drove him crazier and crazier.
Don got lost in watching Charlie, watching the way his head would thrash when Don would thumb the head of his cock on
the downstroke. He loved figuring out what made Charlie's breath hitch, what made him moan Don's name or clutch at his shoulder.
Enthralled by Charlie, he almost didn't realize it when Charlie came, his body still and his mouth open in rapture. Charlie
opened his eyes, gave Don a crooked grin. "I guess you'll have to save your fantasy for some other time.
Charlie meant it this time. They needed to figure something out or get on the same page. At some point they were bound
to be able to think about something other than how long it would be until they could fuck next.
Of course trying to hold onto that thought while Don had him pinned against the wall was as useless as it sounded. But
Charlie was bound and determined to settle this. He ignored the sensation of Don's lips and teeth that were oh so wonderfully
driving him crazy and tried to push at him. "Don, Don, wait." It came out as a groan, but he tried again, pushed
a bit harder. Don looked up, eyes dark with lust.
"I, why are we--"
"Why are we what?" Don was impatient, dragging his lips and teeth across Charlie's neck. Charlie's hold on Don's
"We need to slow down." Don trailed his lips down Charlie's chest and sucked one of his nipples into his mouth.
Charlie's head thudded against the wall.
"Uh-huh. Well, we can move this into the bedroom if you want." Kisses up Charlie's arm, to his shoulder.
"No, that's not what I meant." Charlie took a deep breath and desperately tried not to be swayed by Don's luridness.
It seemed to work. Don flashed him an inquisitive look that quickly turned into understanding and morphed into dread. He backed
up, nodding his head a little. Charlie bit his lip, trying to put together the right words.
"We, this thing between us. We never talk about it. We haven't." Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and opened them,
focusing. "I can't do this any more, Don. I can't have the fear hanging over me--" Charlie pressed his fingers over
Don's mouth as he started to complain. "--without knowing there's...there's something else. Something other than just
sex, because if that's all this is I can't--"
This time Don interrupted with a kiss. He crushed Charlie's body to his, forcing his tongue into Charlie's mouth and proving
just how wrong Charlie was. His hands swept down Charlie's back to his hips, smoothing over them. As the kiss melted into
slow, gentle caresses full of promise, Don rested his palms on Charlie's chest. His lips stilled against Charlie's and he
backed up a bit, resting his forehead against Charlie's.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never said anything, I just couldn't face it if you would've been bothered by me wanting
more. So I kept it to myself." He opened his eyes, conveying his regret. Charlie smiled enigmatically, reached up and
caressed Don's face.
"Don't be sorry, in the future just tell me."
A soft, slow smile spread across Don's face. "Oh, I'll do more than tell you, Charlie. Promise."