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An Honest Mistake
folder
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,947
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,947
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
An Honest Mistake
Title: An Honest Mistake
Author: scots_rock
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,505
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is fiction.
Feedback: Awesome
Author's Notes: Angst, Incest, so be warned! After a rough case Charlie and Don spend the night together. 2 parts, this being the first one. Don’s POV. Inspired by The Bravery’s “An Honest Mistake”. Enjoy!
Don almost stumbled over his own feet as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Charlie was heavily leaning on his back, he, too, was hardly able to stand let alone walk on his own. Both of them staggered into the apartment and into the living room where Charlie fell on the couch immediately and lay there immovable. Don laughed in a girlish kind of way which made unmistakably clear that he was drunk. So was Charlie.
It had been a rough day, a case had gone bad, very bad actually. They had been able to arrest the killer in the end, yet it had taken many losses. Don shut his eyes tightly at the memory, eager to forget the past few hours, days. He watched Charlie as he lay there, doing nothing else but breathing.
“I think it was a good idea that you sleep over. Dad surely wouldn’t have liked the view of his youngest son totally drunk.”, Don remarked and moved his so heavy seemingly body over to the couch.
“Yepp, I agree here!”, Charlie slurred. Don had the impression that Charlie was even more drunk than himself.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed. You definitely won’t be sleeping on the couch.”, he then ordered and grabbed Charlie under his shoulder, pulling him up into a sitting position.
“Why? Th’ couch’s really...very comftbl.”, Charlie wondered, yet it seemed more like an incoherent mumbling and muttering to Don.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough. Get up! Come on, buddy!”
Don helped Charlie come to his feet again, then both while leaning against each other made their way to the bedroom. Reaching it, Don let Charlie fall gently onto the bed. He took off his shoes and socks, then fumbled for the zipper of Charlie’s jeans. His hands were shaking, he felt dizzy and couldn’t really make out everything in the light of the streetlamp that shone through the window. He hadn’t switched on the light knowing only too well that light would make both of their – drunk – states even worse. His fingers, still searching for the zipper, brushed accidentally over Charlie’s crotch, and unexpectedly, Charlie arched into the touch.
Don gulped. No, Charlie was certainly not aware of what he was doing. He was half asleep already, it had to be a dream of Charlie’s, yeah, of course. Charlie was dreaming of something, or someone. Don talked himself into this and so he continued taking off Charlie’s jeans. He pulled at the bed sheets for Charlie was lying on them, then covered his little brother with them. He sat down at the edge of the bed and watched Charlie sleeping. Again. Don liked doing that. It calmed him down somehow when he heard the regular and smooth breathing of Charlie, saw his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.
Don’s head went down, his smile faded, the dizziness vanished to be replaced by a strange but also familiar pain in his stomach region. He rubbed his neck and let out a frustrated sigh. He was drunk, yes, but too drunk to give in? Too drunk to stay strong? Charlie moved abruptly, a knee digging into Don’s back. Don stood up at that and went to the other side of the bed. He took off his socks, jeans and shirt, and lay down to sleep.
Although he was tired, so exhausted, so drained, Don could not fall asleep. He tried to count sheep, tried to think of something really boring, tried not to think at all, but he failed. He sat up until he finally decided to go to the kitchen. He needed something to drink, water, a coke or something. Anything to swallow down the rock that seemed to be stuck in his throat. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the kitchen and started looking for a glass and the water bottle. He guzzled the water down hastily, after that he starred a hole into the wall.
He hated himself for even the single thought of considering to think of Charlie. He wanted to take this glass and smash it against the wall, hear the shattering sound that it would make, see the pieces of the broken glass that would lie scattered on the floor. But he didn’t do it. He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream, he didn’t punch or kick. He just stood there and regretted his transfer to LA.
Don felt a sudden tiredness overwhelming him more and more, so he walked slowly back to his bed. He halted when he saw Charlie leaning against the door frame.
“Can’t sleep?”, Charlie asked, still not fully returned to his senses.
“Just needed some water.”, Don explained silently.
He did it again. He starred at Charlie. His head was slightly tilted to the side, his neck bared, his hands behind his back. That was the moment when just looking at Charlie was not enough any more. With a few quick steps he approached his brother and kissed him hard on the mouth, his hands automatically went for those dark, black curls. Don claimed Charlie’s mouth at once, his tongue entering a territory it never had before but always secretly whished to. There was no time for breathing, hands tugged at the remaining clothes, pulled the shirt eventually up.
Don pushed Charlie more and more into the bedroom until they were on the bed again, rolling around, kissing, licking, nibbling. Don’s thumbs massaged Charlie’ nipples, while his tongue was still busy with Charlie’s mouth, hungrily licking its way down to jaw, neck, shoulder. Heavy, fast breathing sounded through the whole apartment, trying hard to stay quiet. Yet the atmosphere had been heated up too much, Don couldn’t withstand Charlie for one more second. He had to have him. Now. Right here in his arms. He shoved Charlie’s pants down, removed his own, then reached for the lube in the night drawer. Not wanting to lose time he squeezed some of it into his palm and covered fingers and his aching hard cock with it. Charlie rolled onto his stomach, presenting his perfectly formed spine, shining with sweat under Don.
Charlie arched into the touch as Don carefully, but also as fast as he could, prepared him. He felt his own temperature rising, Charlie’s body seemed also hot as if on fire. Don replaced his fingers with his length, pushing slowly into Charlie’s fragile body. He lay down, covered his brother’s body completely with his own, and when Charlie seemed to relax a bit, Don started moving. His hips thrust faster with every stroke, Dons hands exploring and rubbing Charlie’s skin everywhere possible and accessible. He bit his teeth into his brother’s shoulder, he so whished to keep his self-control yet Charlie under him, the curls, the moans and whimpers that escaped his throat from time to time, his skin on Don’s skin, Don inside of Charlie, all these factors were so much stronger than Don’s wishes.
Don came first, almost jumping over the edge, letting out a silent, long moan as the aftermath of the climax shot through his veins, Charlie was right after him. Don pulled out before collapsing on his brother again. He was only able to pull the sheet over them both before sleep made him a captive of the night.
+++
Don woke up, blinded by the sunlight that filled the whole bedroom. He reached out beside him. Nothing. An empty mattress. He listened up when he heard someone moving through the apartment.
“Charlie?”
No answer.
“Charlie, I know it’s you. I can hear you.”
Don sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. Still no answer from Charlie.
“Charlie!”, Don cried out a bit angry now. Then he sighed out. No, this was the wrong way to calm his brother down. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened last night...”
“No, you’re not! And that is the worst thing!”, Charlie suddenly screamed and appeared in the door way. His cheeks were wet, his eyes red with tears.
“You had no right.”, he spat out. “You had no right!”
“I know...I’m sorry...”, Don repeated.
“Stop saying that! You’re making it even worse!”, Charlie shouted yet didn’t move. His whole body was shaking, however. “How could you do this? How could you do this to me? After all we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for you!”
Don didn’t know what to answer, so he stayed silent for a moment, thinking.
“All right, I am not sorry. I wanted this. I’ve wanted this for so long. I am not sorry for what happened but for how it happened. I mean...you were standing there and looked so...I didn’t know how to handle this-”
“It was a mistake.”, Charlie interrupted which made Don look up into confused, angry and hurt eyes. “You’ve changed. You should have never came back. I was better off without you.”
With that he turned away from his brother and left the apartment. Don hid his face in his hands while silent tears ran down his cheeks.
Author: scots_rock
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,505
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is fiction.
Feedback: Awesome
Author's Notes: Angst, Incest, so be warned! After a rough case Charlie and Don spend the night together. 2 parts, this being the first one. Don’s POV. Inspired by The Bravery’s “An Honest Mistake”. Enjoy!
Don almost stumbled over his own feet as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Charlie was heavily leaning on his back, he, too, was hardly able to stand let alone walk on his own. Both of them staggered into the apartment and into the living room where Charlie fell on the couch immediately and lay there immovable. Don laughed in a girlish kind of way which made unmistakably clear that he was drunk. So was Charlie.
It had been a rough day, a case had gone bad, very bad actually. They had been able to arrest the killer in the end, yet it had taken many losses. Don shut his eyes tightly at the memory, eager to forget the past few hours, days. He watched Charlie as he lay there, doing nothing else but breathing.
“I think it was a good idea that you sleep over. Dad surely wouldn’t have liked the view of his youngest son totally drunk.”, Don remarked and moved his so heavy seemingly body over to the couch.
“Yepp, I agree here!”, Charlie slurred. Don had the impression that Charlie was even more drunk than himself.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed. You definitely won’t be sleeping on the couch.”, he then ordered and grabbed Charlie under his shoulder, pulling him up into a sitting position.
“Why? Th’ couch’s really...very comftbl.”, Charlie wondered, yet it seemed more like an incoherent mumbling and muttering to Don.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough. Get up! Come on, buddy!”
Don helped Charlie come to his feet again, then both while leaning against each other made their way to the bedroom. Reaching it, Don let Charlie fall gently onto the bed. He took off his shoes and socks, then fumbled for the zipper of Charlie’s jeans. His hands were shaking, he felt dizzy and couldn’t really make out everything in the light of the streetlamp that shone through the window. He hadn’t switched on the light knowing only too well that light would make both of their – drunk – states even worse. His fingers, still searching for the zipper, brushed accidentally over Charlie’s crotch, and unexpectedly, Charlie arched into the touch.
Don gulped. No, Charlie was certainly not aware of what he was doing. He was half asleep already, it had to be a dream of Charlie’s, yeah, of course. Charlie was dreaming of something, or someone. Don talked himself into this and so he continued taking off Charlie’s jeans. He pulled at the bed sheets for Charlie was lying on them, then covered his little brother with them. He sat down at the edge of the bed and watched Charlie sleeping. Again. Don liked doing that. It calmed him down somehow when he heard the regular and smooth breathing of Charlie, saw his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.
Don’s head went down, his smile faded, the dizziness vanished to be replaced by a strange but also familiar pain in his stomach region. He rubbed his neck and let out a frustrated sigh. He was drunk, yes, but too drunk to give in? Too drunk to stay strong? Charlie moved abruptly, a knee digging into Don’s back. Don stood up at that and went to the other side of the bed. He took off his socks, jeans and shirt, and lay down to sleep.
Although he was tired, so exhausted, so drained, Don could not fall asleep. He tried to count sheep, tried to think of something really boring, tried not to think at all, but he failed. He sat up until he finally decided to go to the kitchen. He needed something to drink, water, a coke or something. Anything to swallow down the rock that seemed to be stuck in his throat. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the kitchen and started looking for a glass and the water bottle. He guzzled the water down hastily, after that he starred a hole into the wall.
He hated himself for even the single thought of considering to think of Charlie. He wanted to take this glass and smash it against the wall, hear the shattering sound that it would make, see the pieces of the broken glass that would lie scattered on the floor. But he didn’t do it. He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream, he didn’t punch or kick. He just stood there and regretted his transfer to LA.
Don felt a sudden tiredness overwhelming him more and more, so he walked slowly back to his bed. He halted when he saw Charlie leaning against the door frame.
“Can’t sleep?”, Charlie asked, still not fully returned to his senses.
“Just needed some water.”, Don explained silently.
He did it again. He starred at Charlie. His head was slightly tilted to the side, his neck bared, his hands behind his back. That was the moment when just looking at Charlie was not enough any more. With a few quick steps he approached his brother and kissed him hard on the mouth, his hands automatically went for those dark, black curls. Don claimed Charlie’s mouth at once, his tongue entering a territory it never had before but always secretly whished to. There was no time for breathing, hands tugged at the remaining clothes, pulled the shirt eventually up.
Don pushed Charlie more and more into the bedroom until they were on the bed again, rolling around, kissing, licking, nibbling. Don’s thumbs massaged Charlie’ nipples, while his tongue was still busy with Charlie’s mouth, hungrily licking its way down to jaw, neck, shoulder. Heavy, fast breathing sounded through the whole apartment, trying hard to stay quiet. Yet the atmosphere had been heated up too much, Don couldn’t withstand Charlie for one more second. He had to have him. Now. Right here in his arms. He shoved Charlie’s pants down, removed his own, then reached for the lube in the night drawer. Not wanting to lose time he squeezed some of it into his palm and covered fingers and his aching hard cock with it. Charlie rolled onto his stomach, presenting his perfectly formed spine, shining with sweat under Don.
Charlie arched into the touch as Don carefully, but also as fast as he could, prepared him. He felt his own temperature rising, Charlie’s body seemed also hot as if on fire. Don replaced his fingers with his length, pushing slowly into Charlie’s fragile body. He lay down, covered his brother’s body completely with his own, and when Charlie seemed to relax a bit, Don started moving. His hips thrust faster with every stroke, Dons hands exploring and rubbing Charlie’s skin everywhere possible and accessible. He bit his teeth into his brother’s shoulder, he so whished to keep his self-control yet Charlie under him, the curls, the moans and whimpers that escaped his throat from time to time, his skin on Don’s skin, Don inside of Charlie, all these factors were so much stronger than Don’s wishes.
Don came first, almost jumping over the edge, letting out a silent, long moan as the aftermath of the climax shot through his veins, Charlie was right after him. Don pulled out before collapsing on his brother again. He was only able to pull the sheet over them both before sleep made him a captive of the night.
+++
Don woke up, blinded by the sunlight that filled the whole bedroom. He reached out beside him. Nothing. An empty mattress. He listened up when he heard someone moving through the apartment.
“Charlie?”
No answer.
“Charlie, I know it’s you. I can hear you.”
Don sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. Still no answer from Charlie.
“Charlie!”, Don cried out a bit angry now. Then he sighed out. No, this was the wrong way to calm his brother down. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened last night...”
“No, you’re not! And that is the worst thing!”, Charlie suddenly screamed and appeared in the door way. His cheeks were wet, his eyes red with tears.
“You had no right.”, he spat out. “You had no right!”
“I know...I’m sorry...”, Don repeated.
“Stop saying that! You’re making it even worse!”, Charlie shouted yet didn’t move. His whole body was shaking, however. “How could you do this? How could you do this to me? After all we’ve been through, after all I’ve done for you!”
Don didn’t know what to answer, so he stayed silent for a moment, thinking.
“All right, I am not sorry. I wanted this. I’ve wanted this for so long. I am not sorry for what happened but for how it happened. I mean...you were standing there and looked so...I didn’t know how to handle this-”
“It was a mistake.”, Charlie interrupted which made Don look up into confused, angry and hurt eyes. “You’ve changed. You should have never came back. I was better off without you.”
With that he turned away from his brother and left the apartment. Don hid his face in his hands while silent tears ran down his cheeks.