sortofaman | the cautious losers and emotional wrecks (for Chase)

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chase,
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the cautious losers and emotional wrecks (for Chase)

The Doctor had reverted to Plan C. Plan C was not particularly ideal, and in actuality it was hardly a plan at all, more a reactive mechanism until he could sort out what his actual plan was going to be, if he did at all, or until he couldn't take anymore.

Whichever came first.

Plan C was dealing with the issue by not addressing it head-on, by not engaging. Mostly it was because the Doctor had no energy to do so--Nate had been up nights again off and on with teething, and he'd been trying to write up a thesis on different theoretical reactions to the idea of being fictional, and how people would come to terms with it. He was thinking his project would be to come up with a set programme of therapeutic mechanisms for treatment of said issue...

Anyway.

So he didn't really look up when Chase came in, only mumbled a greeting and underlined some text with a pencil.

Subject lyrics by Bob Seger.

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Chase wouldn't mind if they made marks and bruises from this. He absolutely wouldn't, because it would be something, a mark that they had done it, that they had found a break to the usual monotony of their icy frustrations.

Chase let out a long moan as the Doctor kissed him and he parted his thighs just a little more to encourage the Doctor deeper.

The Doctor hadn't really thought about it. It was just as well, and he slid his fingers in and deep, two at once with a twist of his wrist, gasping at the sheer heat. "Fuck, Rob," he mumbled, because it wasn't like he'd forgotten, just that he'd rarely needed it more.

Chase let out a pleased and heady laugh, tipping his head back and trying to focus on the overwhelming heat that was threatening to claim him. He swallowed hard, but a moan didn't escape that muffling. "C'mon, get to the good part," he half-teased.

"Oh, come on," said the Doctor, breath catching in his throat even so, and cocked his fingers upwards for a brief stroke before he added another, almost delaying it just to be a prick.

Chase bit down on his lip before an absolute spat-out profanity could escape him. As much as he knew that he was never going to be a deacon, never going to be a man of god, there was only so much blasphemy and swearing he could do before he started to feel more than bad about all of it. So instead, he whined, a petulant and needy whine. "Please?"

The Doctor bit back a smirk, which was, frankly, just as good as actually smirking, his eyes dark and flashing amusement. Slowly he eased back, fingers trailing slow as he did, and methodically went for the lube. "Well, if you insist."

Chase's eyes faltered shut at around the time the Doctor actually deigned to move things along and a small smile began to grace his lips with delight. "I do," he agreed, biting down on his lip as he watched the Doctor, eager to move this along.

His hand was hot and the Doctor was entirely too ready for this bit, and it wasn't more than a moment before he had himself in hand, moving in.

The pressure, then the heat, and he bit back a cry, dragging his teeth along Chase's neck.

Chase pressed his lips together, a muffled cry escaping past his lips, a pleased little sound, a desperate one, and he was rocking and closing his eyes. He wanted the Doctor to take the lead so that he could just hold on, best as he could. "More," he gasped. "Please."

Nodding, the Doctor moved his hand away from Chase's hip, thumb trailing there for just a moment as he started to move, started to find the right kind of pace. He tugged Chase's leg upwards, towards his shoulder. "Like this," he breathed, half an order.

Chase let out a gasp that was all parts delight and giddiness as he grinned at the Doctor and hitched his leg right where it was being guided. "Yeah," he exhaled, moaning softly. "Just like that."

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh when he saw the smile, bending down to kiss him, trembling slightly when he hit just the right angle. "You're bloody gorgeous, you know that, right?"

Chase's lower body was quaking, subject to the shakes that he didn't want to control because it'd been so long since he had this, between Nate and their arguments and work...it'd just been too long and he bit down on his lower lip desperately, letting out a keen of a sound. "Don't...don't believe you," he teased.

"Well, uh, fine...I could just stop then," the Doctor teased back, though he was lying--unless he absolutely had to, there was no bloody way he could stop. His teeth grit together for a moment at the sound, then he ran his hand through Chase's hair, watching him.

"I love you," he said, eyes dark.

Chase had always thought that he was going to have the kind of love that prevailed over everything, that if he just focused enough on it, nothing would be able to bring them down. He liked to think this was something close to it. "I love you too," he murmured with a desperate keen, forehead furrowing as his eyes shut tightly.

The Doctor knew Chase was close, knew by now every subtlety of how he moved, but it never ceased to be interesting. He bent down to kiss him slow but hard, teeth a slight drag against his lower lip, hips still pressing in deep.

He needed to feel this.

Chase let out a ragged gasp, but he wasn't far at all now. He just had to get there, had to nudge his body along, but once he got close, it wasn't far at all. He let out another long moan and then it was all happening before him, coming and calling the Doctor's name as loud as he could.

"Fuck, Rob," hissed the Doctor, fingers tightening on his hips as he slowed a little to savour it, to feel Chase's body react to him, to know he'd done it, before he started to thrust again. "Oh, god, you beauty."

Chase squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gave himself a moment to breathe before rocking again, finally opening his eyes to land his gaze on the Doctor and grin raggedly. "C'mon," he coaxed with a groan. "Your turn, Doctor. C'mon," he kept insisting.

"Make...it sound like a race." The Doctor couldn't help himself, he started laughing, but he was unable to stop moving, and it was a pleased laugh. He bent to kiss Chase once more, and orgasm hit him nearly out of nowhere.

Chase lazily kissed the Doctor all the while they rocked and moved together. He smiled a slow and sticky thing, kissing down the Doctor's neck as he pushed against the Doctor to try and draw out the orgasm, wanting it to last, like it would somehow make them both happier for a little longer. "In that case," he mumbles. "You win."

Shifting against him, the Doctor mumbled something against his hair. He moaned at the last streak of pleasure that ran through him, then heaved a long sigh. "Think," he murmured, "it was a tie. Don't want to win...if you're not there."

Chase settled and made his way onto his side so that he could drape one leg over the Doctor's waist, settled and content. "I'm right here," he promised, pressing a light kiss to the Doctor's temple. "Don't worry about me. Okay?" And it meant far more than just that moment.

The Doctor moved a bit to shift out of him, just so they could lay there. "I'll try," he said, eyes half closed. "But it's not exactly something that comes easily."

Chase shifted so that he could rest as comfortably as possible, even though a part of him wished they had a shower so he could quickly get clean. "Call it a challenge. Stop worrying about me. I'm sure you can do it."

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the cautious losers and emotional wrecks (for Chase)

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