Title: Pretty Rock Roll Kisses
Beta: meletor_et_al. srsly, how the hell do you put up with me (and my muses)? *hugs*
Summary: Three drabble-ish things. Don watching Charlie, more of Charlie doing awesome things for Don, and finally the
Disclaimer: Still not mine, but I'd love a Don I could keep around for various...things. *cough*
A/N: Just a little break from the crack. I hope you enjoy. Also, I really encourage you to DL the songs I pick out for
my fics. I usually spend a good amount of time coming up with it. :)
Listen to "#41" by Dave Matthews Band.
Don loved watching Charlie. When he was teaching, when he was lecturing, when he was doing some math-y thing with Amita.
When he was watching T.V., playing poker with their dad, when he was cooking.
Most especially he loved watching Charlie sleeping, watching Charlie wake up and see that gorgeous smile spread across
his face. He loved watching Charlie's eyes glaze over in lust, loved watching him come apart in Don's arms.
But most of all, he loved watching Charlie when Charlie knew he was being watched. Charlie would get that sultry gleam
in his eye, put on a subtle show. Pen caps would suddenly have Charlie's tongue twined around them, somehow Charlie's ass
seemed even more luscious outlined in denim. It all drove Don crazy, and Charlie knew it.
It really didn't matter, 'cause at the end of the day they'd find themselves tangled up in off white sheets and each other.
Charlie had bought them for Don's birthday. Don had been stunned that he got them, then concerned because of the price,
then stunned again when Charlie revealed how much money he actually had. "That's more than my whole team makes in a year,"
But really, he'd loved the present. Loved. Who could turn down box seats to a Dodgers game? Much less season tickets for
the damned thing. Colby already demanded that Don invite everyone for, "a game or five." For the first game, though,
he took Charlie. How could he not? Seventh inning stretch, Don grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled him up from his seat.
They stood in front of the glass as the grounds crew worked on the field. Don wrapped his arm around Charlie's waist.
Don loved Charlie, and loved the sorts of things that Charlie did for him. Notnecessarily for the things themselves, but how
the action spoke for his brother. He kissed Charlie's temple, tightened his arm around his waist. "Thanks, buddy."
<i>"One evening, love, starts with a kiss..."</i>
~"Say Goodbye" by Dave Matthews Band
Charlie pressed his lips to Don's. His eyes stayed open, and they widened as if it suddenly hit him what he'd done, but
he was frozen in place. Don moved his head back, slowly, afraid too much movement would shatter Charlie to pieces. Their lips
seperated with a soft noise, they exhaled. The wrong thing could seperate them for the rest of their lives, the right thing
could lead to something even worse but, oh, so much better.
"Just tonight. Please, I..."
"Shh," Don placed a finger over Charlie's lips, hushing him. "I know. We'll just..." Don inched forward,
tracked his thumb over Charlie's cheekbone, lowered his lips. Charlie's eyelids fluttered shut; he'd imagined it, but the
taste, the feel. It was Don, as pure and as perfect and everything he ever thought kissing Don would be like. Don walked Charlie
backwards, gentle until they hit the wall. His kiss grew deeper, more painful. He pulled back, inhaled upon kissing his little
brother again. It hurt, but God it felt so good.