Jedi Princess Clarrisani (clarrisani) wrote in ericandgeorge,
Jedi Princess Clarrisani
clarrisani
ericandgeorge

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Fic: Not As Planned

Title: Not As Planned
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Author: Jedi Princess Clarrisani
Rating: NC-17
Words: 5,456
Pairing: Eric Szmanda/George Eads (RPS - Real Person Slash)
Warning: Real Person Slash - if you don't like, then don't read
Disclaimer: Eric Szmanda and George Eads are real people, thus I do not own them. Wish I did though.
Summary: He had planned a quiet night home alone, but it just didn't turn out that way
Author Note: My very first attempt at RPS. Cross posted between my LJ and

ericandgeorge

 

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The night hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned. Originally the idea had been to stretch out on the couch and catch up on a few movies and shows that he'd missed over the week during filming. Generally, the plan had to been to relax.

Yeah. Right.

Firstly Dax had needed to be washed after he had successfully managed to knock a bowl of soup off the counter onto himself. That alone had taken almost an hour, not including the cleanup of the kitchen. Then he had decided to tackle the dishes, and just as he was putting away the last plate Brooke had rung.

He had nothing against Brooke - they were still fairly good friends, which surprised him considering that one of the reasons The Net had been axed was because he hadn't signed on for a second year, thus putting her out of a job. They still talked a lot, even after eight years, and despite the fact Brooke had picked up her character's annoying habit of calling him 'Junior'. He swore she did it to piss him off.

He had ended up talking to Brooke for the better part of an hour, catching up on recent events and generally having a chat. After he had wrapped up his conversation with Brooke - with a promise to meet up soon for a drink - his brother had rung. Another hour had quickly disappeared as he caught up with Brett and all the news at home. Talking to his brothers and father had long since stopped making him homesick, but that didn't stop him from wanting to know everything about everyone. What could he say? He was naturally curious.

It was late by the time he hung up the phone and dropped onto the couch, finally settling back to watch tv. He smiled as Dax settled onto the couch beside him, resting his head on his lap. Eric absently scratched him behind the ear, Dax making a small noise of appreciation that made Eric chuckle. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with his free hand as he watched. If there was anything bad coming out of having more storylines it had to be the extra hours. It was no wonder Billy needed a break.

Eric jumped when the doorbell rang, Dax leaping up and running toward the main entrance. Eric sighed, head dropping back as he groaned a "why me" before pushing himself up and walking barefoot toward the door. Ushering Dax back he opened the door, his eyebrows rising as he saw the other, stepping back in a silent invitation in.

"George. What are you doing out so late?"

"Had nothing better to do." George flashed him a smile as he entered, pausing to give Dax an affectionate scratch behind the ears. "Not interrupting you or anything, am I?"

"Nah, not really." Eric closed the door, casting his gaze over George's casual clothing. "Thought you had something on tonight."

"Yeah, I did. Jorja and I were going out for drinks but then she ended up with a date so-"

"Wait a minute, you and Jorja were going out and didn't invite me?" Eric punched George in the arm as he passed him, heading back into the main living area, Dax at his heels. "What I ever do to you two?"

"Nothin'. We just remember how you were going on all week about having a night home. Relaxing on the couch, watching films, drinking beer..." George winked at him. "Jerking off."

"Hey, I never said anything about jerking off." Eric drifted into the kitchen. "Want anything?"

"Coffee, maybe."

"What, at this hour?"

"Nothin' wrong with that." George leaned against the counter as Eric began making the coffee. "So how has your night alone been goin'?"

"Not the way I expected." Eric gestured down. "Dax made a mess and needed to be washed. Then I caught up on some housework. Then Brooke and Brett rang, so I only just managed to sit down."

"Brooke? As in Brooke Langton?"

"The one and only." Eric looked up at him, noting the slightly confused look on George's face and laughing. "Man, you're acting more and more like Nick every day."

George blinked, frowning. "Huh?"

Eric grinned, waggling his eyebrows at him. "See."

George shot him a glare as he accepted the mug. "So what did Brooke want?"

"Just a chat. She just saw Fannysmackin' and wanted to compliment me on my acting."

"Yeah. Right." George followed him back toward the lounge. "She got freaked out by the makeup and wanted to make sure none of those bruises were real."

"No, seriously. It was the acting. She wanted to tell me how much I've improved." Eric dropped onto the seat, crossing one leg up over the other as the other joined him on the couch. "She knew it was fake."

"Uh-huh."

Eric shot George a hard glare out the corner of his eye. "Unlike you, I can act."

"Woah, woah, woah." George straightened where he was sitting, turning to face Eric full on. "What?"

"Greg got the crap beaten out of him and killed someone." Eric smirked, sipping from his own coffee. "Nick lay in a box and screamed."

"That's low, man."

"You started it."

George set his jaw, glancing down as Dax stretched out on the floor at their feet. "Yeah, I guess I did."

Eric sighed, closing his eyes as he let his head drop back against the couch. "When I read that script I thought they were going to kill Greg."

"Yeah. I thought the same thing when I read Grave Danger." George stretched his legs out, mindful of Dax. "Paul thought he was a goner last season."

"Only a matter of time before they kill one of us off."

"Yeah." George turned his head to look at him. "We're the only CSI that hasn't killed anyone you know."

Eric nodded. "And now we're up against Grey's Anatomy..."

"...With Billy leaving..."

"...And everyone knows you can't have CSI without Grissom..."

"...We're screwed." George took another sip from his coffee. "One more season. Tops."

"Unless they whip something out of the hat." Eric frowned. "Another Grave Danger. Or maybe a character dying."

"Or sex. Works for Grey's."

"Yeah, but we're not a soap opera."

"Getting there, though." George smiled, turning to face Eric fully once again, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and setting his chin on his hand. "What do you think. Warrick gets a divorce and hooks up with Catherine? I know Jorja won't like it, but..."

Eric chuckled, setting down his mug on the coffee table. He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, the fans wouldn't mind if Nick and Greg..."

George met his eye. "If they..."

Eric nodded.

"Really."

Eric gestured back over his shoulder. "All over the net."

"Right." George raised an eyebrow. "You're not talking about those over-sexed fans of 'The Love' are you?" He made air quotation marks as he said 'The Love'.

Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Well, yeah. They'd probably get off on it. But not just them."

George narrowed his eyes. "This got anything to do with those rumours circling about you and me?"

"Hey, you started them Mr 'Mexico'."

"Like you do anything to stop them." George prodded him in the shoulder. "Door isn't closed, eh?"

"Oh shut up."

George shrugged it off. "You pretended to be gay on The Net."

"No. No. Jacob pretended to be gay to justify why he was with two older men inquiring about a cruise in the travel agency while waiting for the signal from Angela to take out the Praetorians."

George laughed. "And why did you quit that show?"

"Because after they took out the Praetorian's, the storylines started to suck." Eric shrugged. "Besides, they were making my character redundant. Anyway, if I hadn't quit I wouldn't be working on CSI now, would I."

"Okay, I'll give you that." George sighed, rolling his eyes. "You hear that apparently we got drunk and made out at the People's Choice Awards?"

"Among other places..." Eric straightened. "Wait a minute. Where did you hear that?"

"The net."

"Where?"

George fought his smile. "The net doesn't have a specific location. The first two 'w's' do stand for 'world wide'."

"Smart ass." Eric shoved him. "You've been on What Makes the Desert Beautiful again, haven't you."

"Well if you know what's on there then I guess you have too."

"Yeah." Eric shrugged. "Jorja was telling me and Gary about some of the discussions, and I got curious."

"Jorja still reading that stuff, hm?"

"She likes keeping up with the fans." Eric gave a dismissive wave. "I spend half my net time lurking on Talk CSI. I know you do as well."

"I think we all do." George smirked. "If only the fans knew..."

"I think they secretly hope we do. Drop nasty suggestions. Bag out the writers about the continuity errors."

"Yeah, I know." George scowled. "What's the deal with Grissom's mother this season? Is she dead or alive or what?"

"You know, there's one thing that's always got me." Eric shifted to face George fully, eyes narrowing as his voice lowered. "Sara and Greg both worked in San Francisco, and we've been told Greg worked there for two years before transferring to Vegas. Sara was CSI 2 when she transferred in, meaning she had to have been working in San Francisco for at least three years."

"Meaning Sara and Greg would have crossed paths," George finished.

"Exactly." Eric sat back. "I mentioned it to Marg and she agreed that it was a plot hole. Not as big as the Catherine one though."

George nodded. "Did they ever establish where Catherine was from?"

"Vegas. She just moved around a lot."

George snorted. "At least that's what they're saying this season."

Eric laughed.

"You know, it's kinda sad. CSI is in its seventh season and we still haven't got the character backgrounds fleshed out." George set his mug down on the coffee table beside Eric's before settling back. "I know it's all supposed to be about the evidence, but it couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Should bring it up with Anthony next time we see him." Eric sighed, glancing toward his clock and raising his eyebrows. "Late."

"Yeap." George glanced toward the windows. "Dark."

"Comes with it being late."

"Who's the smart ass?" George shot Eric a bemused look. "You want me to go?"

"You're welcome to stay." Eric smiled at him. "So why did you come to visit?"

"Told you."

"No, you told me Jorja found a date." Eric leveled his gaze on him. "You didn't tell me why you came here. You could have gone clubbing or something."

"Yeah, I could've. Just didn't." George shook his head. "Just wasn't in the mood."

"You?"

"Yeah. Tired."

"Then you should be home in bed," Eric's gaze flickered up. "Baldy."

George blinked, meeting his eye. 'Did you just call me 'Baldy'?"

Eric grinned. "Yeah. The lights shining off your head." He reached up, patting George's head. "You need to shave it again. It's starting to get prickly."

"Should shave yours." George swatted Eric's hand away. "A bald Greg Sanders..."

"I dare you to suggest that to the fans."

"Nah. Wouldn't want to give them nightmares."

Eric ran a hand through his hair, brushing it into place. "Not sure what I should do with it. Grow it out, cut it back, dye it, tip it..."

"Just leave it." George flicked aside Eric's fringe. "I like it."

Eric snorted. "You liked it when I had it spiked out in '04, too."

"That's because it felt weird."

"Hey, I'll give you weird." Eric tapped George's upper lip. "That was weird. And gave the fans nightmares."

"The whole idea, my friend." George smirked. "Freak out the fans behind the excuse that Nick has issues."

"Nick does have issues."

"Yeah." George leaned forward. "The main one being Greg."

Eric met his eye. "I take it you're not talking about the court thing."

George shook his head. "Nick and Greg need more screen time."

"Flirt time, you mean." Eric rolled his eyes. "You know they cut back our scenes because of the subtext the fans were reading in."

"Subtext is everything."

"Or so the Live Journal is called."

George chuckled. "Nick should just throw Greg against a locker and lay one on him."

"It'd get cut," Eric reminded him. "And I doubt it'd make it onto the DVD."

"Never know." George slid a hand up behind Eric's neck, trailing his thumb along the base of the hairline. "I should just throw you against a locker..."

Eric allowed George to slowly draw him closer. "Give the crew something to talk about."

"They're already talking." George stopped, their lips barely brushing as they spoke. "Been talking for years. The fans aren't the only ones who can read the subtext."

"Then stop making it subtext," Eric smiled. "Pull a few strings..."

"Mm-hm."

George pressed his lips to Eric's, Eric instantly parting them and drawing George deeper. Eric brought his hand up to tug at George's shirt, pulling him closer. George took the hint and shifted on the couch, closing the space between them as he brought up his other hand to cup Eric's face, Eric making a soft noise as he brought his hand to rest on George's thigh.

A soft whimper filled the room, George and Eric breaking apart laughing as Dax sat up, front paws on Eric's knees. Eric moved his hand from George's thigh to pat the dog as Dax's tail thudded against the floor. "It's okay, Dax. There's nothing wrong."

Dax didn't look convinced, brown eyes turning toward George who chuckled.

"Don't worry Dax, I'm not hurting your Daddy." George's eyes sparkled as he looked at Eric. "I'm just going to play with him for a while."

"Play, eh?" Eric smirked, smoothing a hand over George's head. "That what we're doing?"

"Mm-hm." George rested his forehead against Eric's and smiled. "Y'know, there's just something about you bottom lip that says 'suck me'."

"So I've been told." Eric returned the smile. "Your accent is turn on, you know."

"Everyone loves a southern boy."

"Southern idiot."

George pulled back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eric smirked and shrugged, eyes sparkling as he pushed Dax's paws from his knee. "You're the set clown, George. We'd get through shooting a whole lot faster if you weren't doing something that had us cracking up."

"Well you're all too serious. I can't help it." George nodded to the side. "Now, about Dax..."

"Yes. About Dax." Eric looked down. "Dax, go to bed. Way past your bedtime anyway."

Dax looked at him with puppy eyes, reluctantly standing and trotting away as Eric pointed in the direction of his dog-bed. George shook his head, sighing. "If only Maverick were so well behaved."

"Hey, I tried to train him, you know. But you have Maverick so set in his bad habits."

George blinked. "What bad habits?"

"Sleeping on your bed, for one." Eric prodded him in the chest. "It's no wonder you can't keep a girlfriend."

"Look who's talking." George gave Eric a shove, knocking him sideways and instantly following, pulling himself up over the other and placing his hands on the armrest on either side of Eric's head. "Do you even look for girls?"

"Hey, I go out all the time." Eric shifted, bringing his feet up onto the couch as George kicked off his shoes. Eric set his hands on George's hips, eyeing him. "I just... I'm still not that comfortable talking to strangers, that's all."

George chuckled, shaking his head as he slid one knee between Eric's, sliding a hand up under Eric' shirt and feeling the skin twitch at his light touch. "You can be way too shy at times, man."

"You'll get over it." Eric smiled. "You realise we are the complete opposites of our characters."

"Yeah, I know." George returned the smile as Eric untucked his shirt. "Sometimes I think you should be Nick and I should be Greg."

"Nah. I can't do the accent or 'hurt/confused' look, and you can't do that crazy/eccentric act."

George kissed him lightly. "You were so typecast."

"Jacob Resh, Greg Sanders, one and the same." Eric sighed heavily. "Prefer Greg. There's more to him. And I prefer the science speak to the computer mumbo-jumbo."

"And I prefer this to that platinum blond." George ran his fingers through Eric's hair, kissing him again. "Dax gone?"

Eric glanced to the side. "Yeah. If we keep it down he won't disturb us."

"Guess we'll have to try and be quiet then."

Eric snorted, looking back up. "You? Quiet?"

"Shut up." George pressed his hips against Eric's, hearing Eric moan softly as the younger pulled him closer. "Like you're any better."

Eric glared at him. "George?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't come here to talk, did you?"

George shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"Then stop talking."

George laughed, breaking off when Eric caught his head in his hands and pulled him down into a hard, fierce kiss. George groaned as Eric brought his knee up, thigh pressing into George's groin. George was the one to break the kiss, panting. "Damn it, Eric."

Eric's eyes sparkled as he tugged off George's shirt, tossing it aside. He kissed George's neck, bringing his lips to George's ear and tugging at the lobe with his teeth, all the while circling his hands over George's back. "And you wonder why they're always looking for excuses for Nick to be shirtless."

George turned his head to glare at him as he reached for the hem of Eric's shirt. He sat back, straddling Eric's hips as he tugged off his shirt and threw it onto the floor with his own. "Honestly, I think there should be more shirtless Greg scenes."

"Compromise." Eric shot him a sly grin as he undid the clasp on George's belt. "Shirtless Gary."

"Yeah, I noticed he's been working out." George watched as Eric tugged the belt from the loops and dropped it onto the floor. "He's got the record for the most shirtless scenes, you know."

"I wouldn't put money on that." Eric frowned. "We're on even territory for the shirtless while wet."

"Oh yeah. Me and Gary went swimming, and you took a shower."

"Jorja loved that scene."

"Wish I could have been there."

Eric laughed, pushing himself up to kiss George. "I knew you'd say that."

George returned the kiss. "Here or the bedroom?"

Eric let out a long breath, eyes drifting toward the large windows. "Probably safer in the bedroom."

George followed his gaze. "If anyone was there they already have what they need." George looked down at him. "We could always turn the lights off."

Eric reached for the remote on the table, hitting a button and dimming the lights. He hit another and turned off the television. "Your call."

"Let's just stay here." George pushed Eric back down, nipping at his collarbone. "Couch is big enough for it."

"Reason why I bought it." Eric looked down at George's sharp look. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant that it was big enough to lay on."

"Right." George kissed him softly. "Not just to entertain guests."

"That's the bonus." Eric slipped his fingers into the back pocket of George jeans, eyebrows raising as he pulled out the condoms. He brought them in front of George's eyes and shot him an accusing look. "Someone was hoping they'd get lucky."

"Whose hoping?"

"What, so I'm a sure thing am I?"

George shook his head, propping himself up to look down at Eric. "I had them anyway, Ercy. Just in case." He set his jaw. "There's a reason I didn't want a drink, you know."

Eric narrowed his eyes. "Because every time we get drunk we end up in the sack together?"

"Yeah." George's lips formed a thin line as he pushed himself up. "I had to be sure it wasn't just the liquor."

"Well I'm sober." Eric narrowed his eyes. "You?"

"Perfectly."

"Guess that means it's not just the liquor."

"Guess so."

Eric sighed, shaking his head as he pulled himself up and handed George the condoms. "George?"

"Yeah?"

"You seriously need to do something about learning to think before talking. Way to kill the moment."

"Hey, you started it." George shot him a fierce glare. "Why do you always blame me?"

"Because usually it is." Eric crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees as George sat back. Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair and brushing it back into place. "I don't like the implication that I'm easy."

George frowned. "I never said you were easy."

"You might as well have." Eric narrowed his eyes. "You walk in here in the middle of the night with a pocket full of condoms. If you were in my shoes, what would you be thinking?"

George closed his mouth, eyes dropping. "Okay, you have a point." He paused. "Literally."

Eric groaned, rubbing his eyes. "George..."

"Sorry. Had to say it." George sighed, gazing around the darkened room. "You know, this is so much easier when we're drunk."

"That's because you don't think. Or talk." Eric's gaze flicked up. "Pure impulse."

George shifted uncomfortably in the silence, rubbing his arm absently. "It's way too serious in here."

"Being serious won't kill you." Eric sighed again, stretching his back and rubbing his neck when it cracked. "Not every problem can be fixed with a joke or prank."

"Yeah, I know." George looked at him. "I don't think of you as a sure thing, Eric. You're far from being easy. It's just..." George met his eye. "I was kinda hoping you would go along with it. Sober."

Eric watched him through narrowed eyes, setting his jaw. "Yeah. I know. Figured that out the minute you didn't accept a drink."

George frowned. "Then why..."

"You really do need to learn to shut up." Eric shook his head, pressing a finger to George's lips. "I would have gone along with it no question if you hadn't come out with that 'who's hoping' line."

"Ah." George nodded, reaching up to catch Eric's wrist. "I see where you're going with that. 'Who's hoping since I knew you would'."

"Exactly." One of Eric's eyebrows quirked. "Now do you see what I'm getting at?"

"It was a throwaway line, Eric."

"Not the point, George."

"Okay. I get it now. Think before talking." George kissed the back of Eric's hand, eyes wide in that 'innocent' expression that had the fan girls going 'awww' every time he used it on the show. ""Forgive me?"

Eric rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. "You're an idiot."

George grinned. "Yeah, I know."

Eric turned his wrist in George's grip and grabbed his arm, tugging him closer and planting a kiss on George's lips. "Okay, I forgive you. But if you piss me off again I'm kicking you out, shirt or no shirt."

George frowned. "My car keys are in the pocket."

"Guess you'd be walking then."

George blinked. "That's cruel."

"Then don't do it again." Eric gripped the back of George's neck and kissed him again. "Now where were we before you opened your mouth?"

George smirked. "And here I thought you'd want my mouth open."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Eric rolled his eyes again, unable to fight the smile. "Just shut up and kiss me, Eads. Before I change my mind."

"Can't say no to that."

Eric frowned. "Do you always have to have the last word?"

"Yeap."

George's eyes sparkled as he kissed him, cutting off Eric's reply. His hands went straight to Eric's hips, finding the waistband of Eric's cargo pants and tugging. Eric uncrossed his legs, lifting his hips and allowing George to strip him of his clothes. George's own clothes disappeared soon after, landing on top of the pile on the floor.

They shifted until they were stretched out on the couch, George's body covering Eric's smaller frame by unspoken agreement. Eric's breath hitched in his throat as George nipped and sucked his neck. After a while Eric shifted, planting a hand on George's chest and pushing him back.

"Don't mark me."

"I know." George tugged at Eric's ear with his teeth. "Wasn't biting hard enough."

"Good." Eric trailed a hand along George's spine, closing his eyes. "Don't need a hickey when we're filming."

"Yeah. I remember what happened the day Marg showed up with one."

Eric chuckled. "Yeah, but her husband did that. She doesn't have to answer the questions I would."

"True." George kissed him, eyes darting around. "You got anything we could..."

Eric opened his eyes to look at him. "What's wrong with good old fashioned spit?"

"Primative."

"Saves us getting up."

"Yeah. Considering I just got comfortable." George watched as Eric caught his wrist, drawing two of George's fingers into his mouth. George groaned at the sight, hips unconsciously bucking against Eric's as Eric laved the fingers with his tongue. "God damn it. You're doing that deliberate, Szmanda."

Eric smirked, expression on his face easily reading as 'you think?', but he never relented from his silent torture. George gritted his teeth, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Eric's shoulder so that he couldn't see in the dim light.

"I am so going to make you pay for this," George said breathlessly, strain evident in his voice as his free hand clenched into a fist.

Eric rubbed the back of George's neck soothingly, releasing George's fingers and turning his head to kiss George's temple. "I so hope you do."

George snorted in amusement, bringing his hand down to press his fingers against Eric's opening. Their lips met in a soft kiss as George pressed a digit inside, a second one quickly joining it. Eric was one of those people who needed little preparation, his trust in George evident given how relaxed he was, and it wasn't long before George was reaching for the condoms.

Eric's fingers found them first, picking one up and tearing open the packet. George swore softly as Eric rolled it on him. Eric seemed to be making a game of it, his touch lingering on George's erection, George gritting his teeth as he willed himself not to come. He wasn't as young as he once was, and he wanted to be in Eric when he came. Preferably with Eric coming with him.

Unable to hold back anymore, George shifted to settle between Eric's thighs. Eric drew his knees up as George entered him, Eric letting out a long breath, losing his battle in suppressing a soft moan. George's hands closed into fists as he buried himself deep, forehead once more on Eric's shoulder as he tried to even out his breathing.

Eric wrapped his legs around George's waist, gripping his shoulders and forcing himself to relax further. George turned his head, Eric feeling the movement and opening his eyes to meet George's gaze, reading the unspoken question.

"I'm okay."

George nodded, pushing himself up and pressing his lips against Eric's. The kiss deepened, becoming forceful and desperate as George began to move, slowly at first as he shifted his angle, searching. He knew he had found it as he felt Eric start below him and gasp into his mouth. George planted his feet onto the couch for leverage before driving up hard, Eric breaking the kiss with a sharp cry, throwing back his head as his nails dug into George's back.

George grinned, nipping at Eric's throat and repeating the movement, Eric matching his movement this time, clenching down on him and causing George to moan. They fell into a steady rhythm, matching each others movements, fighting to keep their eyes open as they kissed at intervals.

A noise to the side caught Eric's attention and he tightened his legs around George to still his movements, pushing George back. "Wait, wait, wait."

George frowned, swallowing hard as he panted. "What is it?"

"Dax." Eric looked at the dog trotting toward him, tail wagging. "Dax, go back to bed!"

Dax stopped beside them, looking up with wide eyes. Eric groaned softly, letting go of George's shoulder to pat Dax before shoving the dog away. "I'm fine. Just go back to bed. Bed, Dax. Now!"

Dax stepped back, slightly confused. Eric let out a frustrated sigh. His voice was strained, George fighting to keep from moving above him. Eric pointed toward the door. "Dax, go!"

"He heard us," George said softly.

"He probably thinks you were hurting me," Eric agreed. "Dax, bed!"

Dax turned, retreating from the room although it was clear he didn't want to go. George and Eric let out a joined sigh of relief, George's head dropping to Eric's chest as Eric folded him in his arms.

"Maybe next time you should close Dax in your bedroom," George said softly.

"Mm." Eric pushed against George, clenching around him and deliberately not commenting on George's use of 'next time'. "I'll have to."

"Now where were we." George shifted so that he had more leverage, reaching down to grasp Eric's erection and hearing the other hiss. "Ready?"

"Just move."

George was still coherent enough to think of several response to that but chose to keep quiet, instead thrusting up and returning them to the rhythm they had set up before Dax had come to check on his 'Daddy'. George pumped Eric's erection in time with his thrusts, Eric's hips now bucking against him.

Eric's hands trailed down George's back, one finger tracing George's cleft and lingering over the opening. George swore, his thrusts becoming more irregular, no longer able to maintain a kiss as he rested his head on Eric's shoulder and closed his eyes, focussing entirely on that intense heat that surrounded him.

Abruptly Eric tensed, biting back his cry so that it came out more as a choked sob, coming into George's fingers. His timing was perfect as George came almost instantaneously, thrusting up a couple more times as he emptied himself into the younger as Eric tightened around him.

They collapsed against the couch, clinging to each other as they panted for breath, reluctant to let go. Eric recovered first, resting his head against George's and gently smoothing circles over George's back as the other's body continued to shudder from exertion. Eric kissed the side of his face, cracking his eyes open to watch the elder.

"George?"

There was a lapse before a soft, muffled voice replied. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Mm." George turned his head to look at him. "It's better without the alcohol."

"No arguments here." Eric sighed heavily, a smile on his lips. "Not going to run out on me now are you?"

"Nah. Figured I'd hang around and annoy you until tomorrow." George withdrew, removing the condom and tossing it aside, shifting so that he was nestled in beside Eric rather than on top of him, although he never let Eric out of his arms. "Unless you want me gone."

"No, you're good."

"Good." George sighed, closing his eyes. "Sorry you didn't get your night home alone with your tv."

"It's fine." Eric glanced up toward the clock, taking in the numbers in the dim light. "Prefer this, actually."

"Really." George opened his eyes to look at him. "Have to do it more then."

Eric chuckled. "We'll see."

"Mm-hm." George smiled faintly, sleep creeping up o him. "Next time you can show up at my place with a pocket of condoms so I can be the one who gets offended."

"Nah." Eric shook his head, reaching up to brush sweat soaked locks from his face. "If we were at your place, Maverick would be laying on us right now."

"So I'll lock Maverick in my bedroom."

"George, that's where we would be. Your couch is too small."

"Technicalities." George smiled softly. "If only our fans could see us now."

"If our fans could see us now, most of them would have gotten off on it." Eric closed his eyes, smiling faintly. "Dax probably thinks I'm mad at him."

"Either that or psychologically damaged after seeing us getting it on."

"Both, probably." Eric sighed contently. "Let's just sleep here."

"No arguments here." George echoed the sigh. "Night Eric."

"Sleep well, George."

"Plan to."

"Good."

"Going to need to be well rested for tomorrow."

"Insatiable bastard."

"You like it."

"Yeah." Eric smiled. "As a matter in fact, I do."

George returned his smile, kissing him one last time before they settled in for the night, the two sleeping men never noticing when Dax slipped back into the room to check on them, and once satisfied that Eric was okay, he curled up to fall asleep on the pile of clothes on the floor.

----------

END

There we go. My very first RPS story. Not sure if I'll do another of these, but at least I can say I've done one!

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