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Misery Loves Company (Life/Standoff: Charlie/Matt NC-17)
Title: Misery Loves Company
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlie/Matt
Word Count: 2,210
Warnings: Life/Standoff crossover (pretend Standoff ends during S1 of Life)
Summary: For a![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cranky_zen challenge and the chem15try prompt kinetics - Matt and Charlie meet in a bar.
Massive amounts of thanks and gold stars to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
caersmane for the beta.
+++
It was when Matt had ordered his second drink that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, a telltale sign that Matt could sense someone watching him. He'd been sitting at the counter for less than an hour, and the bar was crowded enough for the noise to drown out his thoughts but not so crowded that people were getting in his way.
He glanced at the neon clock above the bar and scowled to himself when his brain automatically supplied him with what the time would be in DC. Matt didn't need to think about that, which was why he was at the bar to begin with. He handed over more cash when the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of him and deftly removed his other glass.
Still feeling eyes on him from somewhere, Matt pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and pretended to check for any messages or missed calls, when in actuality he was looking around, trying to figure out if he was just being paranoid.
He wasn't. Despite the alcohol, his instincts were still sharp. At the back of the bar, seated at one of the tall, round tables against the wall beyond the pool tables was a red-haired man who was definitely staring at him. He looked vaguely familiar but Matt couldn't place his face and hoped the man wasn't a former HT just out of prison looking for revenge. He turned back to face the bar, and put his attention back on the whisky before it became too diluted.
The glass was half-empty when Matt felt someone brush his elbow, and he turned to see the redhead taking a seat to Matt's left.
“I've heard misery loves company,” the man said without preamble. He hadn't brought a drink with him and held up one finger in the in-a-minute gesture to the bartender when she came over to see if he wanted anything.
Matt felt torn halfway between telling the guy to fuck off and entertaining whatever notion had brought him over. He was fairly certain this guy hadn't been involved in one of Matt's cases, despite the sense of familiarity. Matt doubted he'd have been able to forget such a good-looking guy. His suit looked expensive, the tailoring only defining strong thighs, a trim waist, and broad shoulders. “I think that's supposed to mean that misery likes more misery, not just company.” He frowned, willing to humor the man, but Matt didn't appreciate the stranger's assumptions, no matter how true they were. Or maybe it was because of how true they were. “And who's to say I'm miserable?”
The other man smiled, an odd tug at the corner of his mouth. “Attractive guy at a bar by himself; no one's met you or even called you, and you haven't called anyone, either, which makes me think you want to be alone, but not by yourself or you'd just be at home.”
Matt didn't really know how to respond, so he took another sip of his whisky, relishing in how it wasn't burning as harshly as the first glass had, and wondering how much his new companion had had to drink if he was at the rambling stage already. But the man wasn't wrong, the bastard. Matt had considered going home. He knew he had beer, but he wasn't feeling pathetic enough for a night on the couch in his underwear with only the television to keep him company. “Alright, Sherlock, if you can tell me why I'm here alone, I'll buy you a drink.” Matt took another drink to avoid watching himself be studied by those sharp, blue eyes and nearly choked when the man gave his answer.
“It's either work or love.” The man announced, his gaze decisive.
“My partner left me,” Matt supplied, not sure why he was sharing. But he didn't particularly care. There was some finality in saying it out loud.
“Your work partner or lover kind of partner?”
“Both.”
“Your lover left you for your work partner?”
Matt surprised the both of them by chuckling. “My work partner was my lover. There's a reason all those pamphlets about inter-office dating and why it's a bad idea exist.” He waved the bartender over and pulled out his wallet. “What's your poison?” The redhead ordered a gin and tonic, and the bartender moved to the other end of the bar to make it.
“I'm Matt.” He figured the other man had already guessed an uncomfortable amount of information about him, so it wouldn't hurt to introduce himself.
“Charlie,” was the response, and when the bartender returned with Charlie's drink, as well as another glass of whisky, Matt paid for them even though he hadn't quite finished his current drink yet. He watched, eyebrows quirked, as Charlie took the lime wedge out of his drink and ate it like it was a slice of orange. “This bar has good limes,” Charlie supplied, like that was the entire reason he went to this particular bar to begin with.
“Huh,” Matt replied, not able to come up with anything else to say. He was really impressed with himself this evening – he talked for work and here he was being all sorts of coherent. “I like the location.”
“You live around here?” Charlie asked, and Matt couldn't help but watch as Charlie took a moment to suck the lime juice off his fingers. It affected Matt in more ways that he was willing to admit, or maybe if he would admit to them, they were desires that he hadn't faced in a long time. He hadn't been with another man since he was in the LAPD, and the idea of a firm, hard body and the feel of stubble against his skin was very appealing.
If Matt was good at one thing, it was reading a situation. There was no way this man, who had spent who knew how long staring at Matt before he had noticed, who was now eyeing Matt expectantly over the rim of his glass, didn't have the same intentions that Matt's head was swimming with.
“Yeah,” he replied, impressed with how calm his voice sounded. “I live around here.” Matt finished his second drink, suspecting that he wouldn't even get to touch the third but not particularly caring. “Wanna get out of here?”
Charlie downed the rest of his drink, pulling a face as he swallowed, then he stood and walked outside. Matt threw some cash on the bar for a tip and followed Charlie out. Matt barely had time to register the cooler air outside before he found himself being pushed into the brick wall, Charlie kissing him hungrily, the entire length of his body pressed against Matt's. He could taste the lime in Charlie's mouth, on his tongue, and Matt felt a nearly incapacitating surge of lust. He was half-tempted to just drag Charlie into the alley, but he didn't want to get fired on top of everything else, which would undoubtedly happen if he were caught and arrested for blowing another guy behind a bar.
Matt broke away with a gasp, trying his best to ignore Charlie's leg between his own, Charlie's thigh pressed up against his groin. “Where?” Charlie asked, his voice low, and Matt pushed himself off of the wall, moving away so he and Charlie weren't touching anymore. He waved vaguely down the street with one hand, forcing himself not to run the half mile or so between the bar and his house. In under ten minutes they at the front door, Matt unlocking it with shaky fingers.
“Nice house,” Charlie said, taking in the exterior before entering, Matt following through the door. Matt switched on a light, turning to see Charlie in the middle of the living room, taking in the space. He walked over to the wall, examining the various pictures and clippings that hung there. “You're FBI.”
Matt knew it was a statement, not a question. “Yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, unable to read Charlie's tone, and wondered if it was a problem.
“What unit?”
“Crisis Negotiation.”
Charlie smiled again, that twitch of his mouth that, now that they were in the light, seemed like it was an expression Charlie had only recently learned. “Huh.”
They stared at each other from across the room for what was probably only a few seconds but felt like forever. They hadn't left the bar that long ago, but Matt was already feeling much too sober. “Do you want a beer?” he asked, crossing the living room to enter the kitchen. He looked back to Charlie to find that the other man had followed him and was eyeing Matt from a few feet away.
“We both know I didn't come here to have a drink,” Charlie said in a voice that made chills run down Matt's spine, and before he had time to think more of it, Charlie had closed the gap, reaching out to divest Matt of his corduroy jacket. His arms were barely out of it when he felt long fingers at his waist, playing with the hem of his shirt, ghosting across his stomach and up his chest before descending and grabbing onto the fabric to pull Matt's shirt over his head.
Only then did they kiss again, teeth bumping as they both tried to turn their heads in the same direction. Matt stepped out of his shoes without breaking the kiss, fumbling to loosen Charlie's tie as he tasted the heady rush of alcohol, the hot flavor of Charlie's mouth. Matt pulled back, twisting his hand in Charlie's now half unbuttoned shirt, leading Charlie up the stairs, and then walking backwards to guide him to the bedroom, stopping only once the back of his legs hit the mattress, and let out a pleasured groan when Charlie pushed him roughly onto the bed. This, he remembered, was why he liked fucking men. Matt lifted his hips off the bed and let Charlie pull off his jeans, boxers, and socks. He watched Charlie stand back to look him over with a predatory glint in his eyes.
“You better fucking get over here,” Matt snarled, his eyes taking in Charlie's body with hungry appreciation as Charlie divested himself of his own clothes. “Now that's more like it,” he said as Charlie crawled over him, the feel of his body sliding against Matt's driving away anything further Matt might have said. Matt grabbed Charlie's hips and thrust up against him, their cocks rubbing together, and he found his senses overloading at the growling sounds coming from Charlie. He felt Charlie's left hand work its way between their bodies, fingers wrapping around both of their cocks, stroking as Matt angled his neck, nibbling and sucking his way down Charlie's jawline to his neck and collarbone.
Matt was thrusting into Charlie's hand, the other man teasing him, bringing him close to the brink but stopping when Matt was close to being pushed over the edge. “Fuck,” Matt moaned, clutching tightly to Charlie's ass. “So good – such a goddamn tease.”
He wasn't in the mood for getting teased, though. Matt wanted quick and dirty – a point he decided that he would need to demonstrate. Matt put his weight into it as he flipped them over. He propped himself up over Charlie and began closely examining and tasting every freckle he came across, from the nape of Charlie's neck, down his chest and stomach, to his cock. Matt looked up to see Charlie watching him as he licked up the length of Charlie's cock before taking it into his mouth. Matt placed a hand firmly on Charlie's hip, holding the other man steady, and wrapped the other around the base of Charlie's dick, bobbing his head along the length as he felt fingers being wrapped in his hair, pulling a little as Charlie fucked his mouth and repeated his name like a mantra. He removed one of his hands from Charlie's hip for better leverage, feeling Charlie's fingers twist tighter into his hair and his hips jerked as he came. Matt was so close to coming that he could barely think but did his best to swallow what he could, letting the rest drip down his chin. It gave him a rush, getting a guy off with just his mouth.
He looked up at Charlie as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; Charlie looked satisfied but hardly spent as he crooked a finger, motioning for Matt to come up and join him. Matt obliged, crawling up until he was straddling Charlie, and he let out an heartfelt groan when Charlie's long fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, Charlie leaning in close enough that Matt's dick twitched at the feeling of Charlie's breath ghosting across it as he spoke. “I have plans for what I'm going to do to you, Matt,” he growled.
Matt had the definite sense that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep this night, but he certainly wasn't going to complain – not when just an hour ago he'd been drinking alone, and now he had a gorgeous redhead giving him such an enthusiastic blowjob. Sleep could wait.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlie/Matt
Word Count: 2,210
Warnings: Life/Standoff crossover (pretend Standoff ends during S1 of Life)
Summary: For a
cranky_zen challenge and the chem15try prompt kinetics - Matt and Charlie meet in a bar.Massive amounts of thanks and gold stars to
caersmane for the beta.+++
It was when Matt had ordered his second drink that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, a telltale sign that Matt could sense someone watching him. He'd been sitting at the counter for less than an hour, and the bar was crowded enough for the noise to drown out his thoughts but not so crowded that people were getting in his way.
He glanced at the neon clock above the bar and scowled to himself when his brain automatically supplied him with what the time would be in DC. Matt didn't need to think about that, which was why he was at the bar to begin with. He handed over more cash when the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of him and deftly removed his other glass.
Still feeling eyes on him from somewhere, Matt pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and pretended to check for any messages or missed calls, when in actuality he was looking around, trying to figure out if he was just being paranoid.
He wasn't. Despite the alcohol, his instincts were still sharp. At the back of the bar, seated at one of the tall, round tables against the wall beyond the pool tables was a red-haired man who was definitely staring at him. He looked vaguely familiar but Matt couldn't place his face and hoped the man wasn't a former HT just out of prison looking for revenge. He turned back to face the bar, and put his attention back on the whisky before it became too diluted.
The glass was half-empty when Matt felt someone brush his elbow, and he turned to see the redhead taking a seat to Matt's left.
“I've heard misery loves company,” the man said without preamble. He hadn't brought a drink with him and held up one finger in the in-a-minute gesture to the bartender when she came over to see if he wanted anything.
Matt felt torn halfway between telling the guy to fuck off and entertaining whatever notion had brought him over. He was fairly certain this guy hadn't been involved in one of Matt's cases, despite the sense of familiarity. Matt doubted he'd have been able to forget such a good-looking guy. His suit looked expensive, the tailoring only defining strong thighs, a trim waist, and broad shoulders. “I think that's supposed to mean that misery likes more misery, not just company.” He frowned, willing to humor the man, but Matt didn't appreciate the stranger's assumptions, no matter how true they were. Or maybe it was because of how true they were. “And who's to say I'm miserable?”
The other man smiled, an odd tug at the corner of his mouth. “Attractive guy at a bar by himself; no one's met you or even called you, and you haven't called anyone, either, which makes me think you want to be alone, but not by yourself or you'd just be at home.”
Matt didn't really know how to respond, so he took another sip of his whisky, relishing in how it wasn't burning as harshly as the first glass had, and wondering how much his new companion had had to drink if he was at the rambling stage already. But the man wasn't wrong, the bastard. Matt had considered going home. He knew he had beer, but he wasn't feeling pathetic enough for a night on the couch in his underwear with only the television to keep him company. “Alright, Sherlock, if you can tell me why I'm here alone, I'll buy you a drink.” Matt took another drink to avoid watching himself be studied by those sharp, blue eyes and nearly choked when the man gave his answer.
“It's either work or love.” The man announced, his gaze decisive.
“My partner left me,” Matt supplied, not sure why he was sharing. But he didn't particularly care. There was some finality in saying it out loud.
“Your work partner or lover kind of partner?”
“Both.”
“Your lover left you for your work partner?”
Matt surprised the both of them by chuckling. “My work partner was my lover. There's a reason all those pamphlets about inter-office dating and why it's a bad idea exist.” He waved the bartender over and pulled out his wallet. “What's your poison?” The redhead ordered a gin and tonic, and the bartender moved to the other end of the bar to make it.
“I'm Matt.” He figured the other man had already guessed an uncomfortable amount of information about him, so it wouldn't hurt to introduce himself.
“Charlie,” was the response, and when the bartender returned with Charlie's drink, as well as another glass of whisky, Matt paid for them even though he hadn't quite finished his current drink yet. He watched, eyebrows quirked, as Charlie took the lime wedge out of his drink and ate it like it was a slice of orange. “This bar has good limes,” Charlie supplied, like that was the entire reason he went to this particular bar to begin with.
“Huh,” Matt replied, not able to come up with anything else to say. He was really impressed with himself this evening – he talked for work and here he was being all sorts of coherent. “I like the location.”
“You live around here?” Charlie asked, and Matt couldn't help but watch as Charlie took a moment to suck the lime juice off his fingers. It affected Matt in more ways that he was willing to admit, or maybe if he would admit to them, they were desires that he hadn't faced in a long time. He hadn't been with another man since he was in the LAPD, and the idea of a firm, hard body and the feel of stubble against his skin was very appealing.
If Matt was good at one thing, it was reading a situation. There was no way this man, who had spent who knew how long staring at Matt before he had noticed, who was now eyeing Matt expectantly over the rim of his glass, didn't have the same intentions that Matt's head was swimming with.
“Yeah,” he replied, impressed with how calm his voice sounded. “I live around here.” Matt finished his second drink, suspecting that he wouldn't even get to touch the third but not particularly caring. “Wanna get out of here?”
Charlie downed the rest of his drink, pulling a face as he swallowed, then he stood and walked outside. Matt threw some cash on the bar for a tip and followed Charlie out. Matt barely had time to register the cooler air outside before he found himself being pushed into the brick wall, Charlie kissing him hungrily, the entire length of his body pressed against Matt's. He could taste the lime in Charlie's mouth, on his tongue, and Matt felt a nearly incapacitating surge of lust. He was half-tempted to just drag Charlie into the alley, but he didn't want to get fired on top of everything else, which would undoubtedly happen if he were caught and arrested for blowing another guy behind a bar.
Matt broke away with a gasp, trying his best to ignore Charlie's leg between his own, Charlie's thigh pressed up against his groin. “Where?” Charlie asked, his voice low, and Matt pushed himself off of the wall, moving away so he and Charlie weren't touching anymore. He waved vaguely down the street with one hand, forcing himself not to run the half mile or so between the bar and his house. In under ten minutes they at the front door, Matt unlocking it with shaky fingers.
“Nice house,” Charlie said, taking in the exterior before entering, Matt following through the door. Matt switched on a light, turning to see Charlie in the middle of the living room, taking in the space. He walked over to the wall, examining the various pictures and clippings that hung there. “You're FBI.”
Matt knew it was a statement, not a question. “Yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, unable to read Charlie's tone, and wondered if it was a problem.
“What unit?”
“Crisis Negotiation.”
Charlie smiled again, that twitch of his mouth that, now that they were in the light, seemed like it was an expression Charlie had only recently learned. “Huh.”
They stared at each other from across the room for what was probably only a few seconds but felt like forever. They hadn't left the bar that long ago, but Matt was already feeling much too sober. “Do you want a beer?” he asked, crossing the living room to enter the kitchen. He looked back to Charlie to find that the other man had followed him and was eyeing Matt from a few feet away.
“We both know I didn't come here to have a drink,” Charlie said in a voice that made chills run down Matt's spine, and before he had time to think more of it, Charlie had closed the gap, reaching out to divest Matt of his corduroy jacket. His arms were barely out of it when he felt long fingers at his waist, playing with the hem of his shirt, ghosting across his stomach and up his chest before descending and grabbing onto the fabric to pull Matt's shirt over his head.
Only then did they kiss again, teeth bumping as they both tried to turn their heads in the same direction. Matt stepped out of his shoes without breaking the kiss, fumbling to loosen Charlie's tie as he tasted the heady rush of alcohol, the hot flavor of Charlie's mouth. Matt pulled back, twisting his hand in Charlie's now half unbuttoned shirt, leading Charlie up the stairs, and then walking backwards to guide him to the bedroom, stopping only once the back of his legs hit the mattress, and let out a pleasured groan when Charlie pushed him roughly onto the bed. This, he remembered, was why he liked fucking men. Matt lifted his hips off the bed and let Charlie pull off his jeans, boxers, and socks. He watched Charlie stand back to look him over with a predatory glint in his eyes.
“You better fucking get over here,” Matt snarled, his eyes taking in Charlie's body with hungry appreciation as Charlie divested himself of his own clothes. “Now that's more like it,” he said as Charlie crawled over him, the feel of his body sliding against Matt's driving away anything further Matt might have said. Matt grabbed Charlie's hips and thrust up against him, their cocks rubbing together, and he found his senses overloading at the growling sounds coming from Charlie. He felt Charlie's left hand work its way between their bodies, fingers wrapping around both of their cocks, stroking as Matt angled his neck, nibbling and sucking his way down Charlie's jawline to his neck and collarbone.
Matt was thrusting into Charlie's hand, the other man teasing him, bringing him close to the brink but stopping when Matt was close to being pushed over the edge. “Fuck,” Matt moaned, clutching tightly to Charlie's ass. “So good – such a goddamn tease.”
He wasn't in the mood for getting teased, though. Matt wanted quick and dirty – a point he decided that he would need to demonstrate. Matt put his weight into it as he flipped them over. He propped himself up over Charlie and began closely examining and tasting every freckle he came across, from the nape of Charlie's neck, down his chest and stomach, to his cock. Matt looked up to see Charlie watching him as he licked up the length of Charlie's cock before taking it into his mouth. Matt placed a hand firmly on Charlie's hip, holding the other man steady, and wrapped the other around the base of Charlie's dick, bobbing his head along the length as he felt fingers being wrapped in his hair, pulling a little as Charlie fucked his mouth and repeated his name like a mantra. He removed one of his hands from Charlie's hip for better leverage, feeling Charlie's fingers twist tighter into his hair and his hips jerked as he came. Matt was so close to coming that he could barely think but did his best to swallow what he could, letting the rest drip down his chin. It gave him a rush, getting a guy off with just his mouth.
He looked up at Charlie as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; Charlie looked satisfied but hardly spent as he crooked a finger, motioning for Matt to come up and join him. Matt obliged, crawling up until he was straddling Charlie, and he let out an heartfelt groan when Charlie's long fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, Charlie leaning in close enough that Matt's dick twitched at the feeling of Charlie's breath ghosting across it as he spoke. “I have plans for what I'm going to do to you, Matt,” he growled.
Matt had the definite sense that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep this night, but he certainly wasn't going to complain – not when just an hour ago he'd been drinking alone, and now he had a gorgeous redhead giving him such an enthusiastic blowjob. Sleep could wait.
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once I finish my Big Bang fic - ugh!no subject
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I'm glad you liked it!
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*melts*
OMG SO HOT!!
Those two are like a drug. The more I get, the more I want!
I just... *flails*
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This was scorching.
“You better fucking get over here,”
GAH. I was gone after that line.
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.