RPSfic: Muffins

[thebratqueen]

Previous parts can be found here.

Dedicated to taffimai, who wanted porn. ;)

Muffins
by TBQ

***

The creak of the mattress wakes Alexis up.

It's a downward shift of movement as David awkwardly climbs back into bed. Alexis is facing the windows. David, from the feel of it, is facing the wall.

The clock reads 6am.

Or possibly 5. Alexis isn't awake enough to tell, and debating the numbers only makes him wish he hadn't left his glasses back in his hotel room.

*His* hotel room.

David.

Oh Hell.

There's a sound of running water which makes it clear what David was doing. Alexis thinks this is a wise way to handle the question of what's the first thing that should be done on the morning after officially cheating on your fiancée with your married co-worker who is in many aspects your superior, if only in the sense that if things go wrong on the job it's far more likely that you're going to be fired than he is. It's direct, it's simple, it's without emotion.

Also, Alexis really does need to pee. His own fault for not taking care of that after all the drinks the night before.

He's not hungover, though. Not by much. His head throbs when he stands up, but it's the ache of dehydration rather than the sharp bite of alcoholic toxins working their way out of his system. He rubs his forehead as he gingerly steps through the clothes that have been scattered across the floor, and once his bladder's needs are taken care of he follows it up by drinking several glasses of flat-tasting hotel water directly from the tap.

He doesn't turn the light on, but his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom mirror thanks to the faint glow that emanates from the switch that turns the hair dryer on. He's in need of a shave, but that's currently a job requirement. A swipe of his hand across his chin tells him he'll need to trim the beard back a bit once he gets home. He imagines he can do that sometime after unpacking, and ideally before Alyson slaps him for screwing around on her. Alexis imagines that the slap might leave a kind of sensitivity that would make facial hair grooming rather uncomfortable.

He doesn't imagine himself confessing to her, however. He figures the guilt will be obvious in his eyes.

Particularly as he's not regretting sleeping with David as much as he keeps trying to tell himself he should.

Not that it matters. One night stands are what they are, and Vegas has a popular advertising slogan for a reason (though damn them for telling the *world* about that, and ruining it for the rest of them.) The greatest problem isn't the lack of regret, it's the painful social awkwardness of dealing with the morning after. Difficult to look your friend and co-worker in the eye when your brain keeps reminding you of how much more fun it was to look directly at his cock.

Alexis decides he can be manly about this, and professional. The absolute worst would be losing the friendship. Clearly what's needed is regaining platonic footing, and maintaining that from then on out.

Which means that Alexis really needs to find, and then put on his pants.

The hotel room is still dark when Alexis walks back into it. A pale stripe of light illuminates the floor by the doorway, but it only serves to blind Alexis more as he tries to navigate his way towards the bed.

He bends down, reaching his hands out. He tries to remember the order of events so he can deduce where his clothing went, but that line of thought doesn't help him to remain in the realm of platonic. He banishes the ideas and does the best he can by feeling around for anything that might be the right material.

He encounters something that feels like his belt buckle, and pulls at the lump of clothing that's attached to it.

David's moving when Alexis stands up again. It's an odd gesture, made odder still by the lack of light. Alexis thinks that perhaps David is trying to brush something off of his leg, but David, perhaps sensing that Alexis can see him, stops himself and lies still.

Alexis nods, thinking this confirms his theory. It's a relief, actually. David will feign sleep, Alexis will dress and try to leave as quickly as possible. They can meet up later on the ride to the plane, and pretend as though nothing has happened.

He sits down on the bed by the window, and tries to make sure his pants aren't pulled inside-out.

After a while he notices that David's head is turned towards him. A glint of light indicates that David's eyes are open, and watching him.

Alexis feels a lick of nerves. He steels himself, trying to guess if he should say something. Or, if David should speak first, what he should say in response.

Alexis has figured out what he feels are good replies to "Good morning", "Up already?" and even "Going somewhere?" when David opens his mouth.

"You know, I've never done it with somebody who's one Kevin Bacon away from a Beatle."

Alexis finds that he has completely forgotten how pants work. He holds the garment uselessly in his hands as he blurts out the first words that come to mind. "Please tell me that's not *why* you slept with me."

David sits up. He props himself up on one of the pillows. "Nah. Well, not *that*. Maybe if it'd been Ringo, though."

"Two Kevins, then," Alexis points out. "Me, to George, to him."

"Huh," David says, as though that hadn't occurred to him. Alexis's eyes have either adjusted to the dark enough that he can see David's grin, or David's smile provides its own illumination. "Guess so."

"I didn't sleep with George, you know," Alexis says.

"Didn't think you did," David replies.

"I just wanted to be clear," Alexis says.

"Okay," David replies.

Alexis finds he doesn't have anything else to say to that. He resumes trying to put his pants on, only belatedly realizing that he doesn't know where he left his underwear.

David watches him for a long time. Then he says, "There's this muffin."

Alexis ponders this. In the world of conversations with David, an opening like that could be talking about everything from a specific item to the elemental concept of baked goods. Alexis plays it safe and settles for a non-specific, "Oh?"

"Smells like pumpkin," David says, "but I don't think it's pumpkin."

"Because it's a muffin."

"Because I think it's a *bran* muffin," David says. "I don't know. It's brown. Or it was. But it smells like pumpkin."

Alexis thinks that perhaps pants were too difficult an obstacle to set for himself. He wonders if he should set his sights lower on finding, and then getting into, his shirt. Since David's clearly expecting him to say something, he tries, "I'm sorry the muffin confused you?" and then thinks to himself that there are certain types of sentences he only says when he's around David Boreanaz, and the problem is that he enjoys the strangeness of it far too much.

"It wasn't confusing," David assures him - and it's David, so he's both taking Alexis's sympathy in kind *and* genuinely letting him know that there was no food-related trauma, just in case Alexis might have been up nights worrying about it. Which, given that it's David, Alexis just might have. "Smelled great. Tasted good too."

"A story with a happy ending then," Alexis says. He can't find his shirt. He's tempted to go reaching under the beds to find it, but he's leery of blindly reaching his hand into places that dead bodies might have been stored in. He's watched CSI, he knows how that sort of thing goes.

David sits up more. "You don't like muffins?"

Alexis squats on the floor and reaches under the bed anyway. He winces when he encounters dust bunnies. "That depends on the type."

"Doesn't have to be a muffin."

"If it was born a muffin then I don't think we should reject it for not choosing another lifestyle," Alexis stops himself, hearing what he just said. He shakes his head, looking up at David. "What do you *do* to me?"

Alexis's eyes have adjusted to the light enough that he can see David start to smile, then stop as though he's not certain if he should. "Is it bad?"

Alexis feels something in his heart that he knows he shouldn't. He closes his eyes because he'll kiss David if he keeps himself vulnerable to David's confused puppy look. "I'm getting dressed."

"There could be coffee."

"Clothes first," Alexis says. He realizes that's not much of a denial. He tries harder. "I'm not in the mood for coffee, thank you."

"Did I fuck this up?"

That gets Alexis's eyes to open again. "What?"

"Shit," David says, as though Alexis had answered him. "I did. I'm sorry."

"No," Alexis stands up. "No, David, it was fine."

David's now staring at him in horror. "I fucked it up *and* I was bad at it?"

"Are you *kidding* me?" Alexis asks, his mouth yet again possessed by parts of his brain which apparently have no desire to consult with the other parts to make sure that he doesn't say anything stupid. "For God's sake, I'm *sore*."

David frowns. "Is that good or - "

"Extremely good," Alexis says. "Amazingly good. Starting to understand why people like jocks good."

"You don't like jocks?" David asks.

"Not as a rule, no," Alexis says.

"I'm not your type?" David asks.

Alexis folds his arms. "Apparently I got over it."

David sits up more. "Did I fuck it up?"

"David," Alexis says, patiently, "I came so hard I think that's why my head hurts."

"No," David says. "I meant - wait, really?"

"You were there," Alexis reminds him. "You don't remember?"

"I don't know if your head hurts," David says. "I know you felt good. Real good. Do you need an aspirin?"

"I need you to pull that blanket up," Alexis says, "because I can't talk while I'm staring at those muscles, and that hair, and - David, blanket *up*."

David adjusts the bedding. "You're not wearing anything either."

"Not for lack of trying," Alexis points out.

"You'd rather be dressed?" David asks.

"I think it's best," Alexis says.

David's shoulders slump. "I didn't mean to. Shit. I'm sorry, Alex. I know you don't like fucking around with co-workers. But I figured, you know, four years."

Alexis has had this conversation before, with Alyson. "Seeing someone you're working with *is* awkward, particularly when there's such a difference in status on the set. And friendship should always be the most important thing between us. I would hate to think that I lost somebody I trusted and valued as a friend because we - "

Then Alexis pauses, because he's given this speech to Alyson.

Then he pauses again, because *David*, in his own way, was giving this speech to *him*.

One more pause and he catches a final detail. "Four years?"

"Yeah," David says.

Alexis holds a hand out, as though he's steadying the information so it doesn't run away. "Four years as in we've worked together for four years, or four years as in -"

"I waited four years," David says.

Alexis's mouth hangs open for several moments. A voice in his head tells him to go, walk right out the door, worry about pants later if need be but *leave*.

The rest of him says: "David, if you mean that and this is actually what you wanted out of all of this then I'd really like to keep going and what I really want is to give you a blowjob. But only if that's not going to be against what you had in mind."

"No. Yes." David frowns. "Whatever answer means blowjob. I'm saying yes to blowjob."

Alexis takes a step forward. "And more?"

"Sure," David nods enthusiastically. "Lots more."

Alexis kneels down, bracing himself against David's knees. "Not a one-night stand?"

A look of discomfort flashes across David's face, but it's replaced by disbelief, and shock. "I don't fuck around, Alex. I told you, this isn't a star perk."

"I've never done this before," Alexis says. "I don't know how it works."

"It works with us having fun, and being happy," David says.

Alexis tugs the blanket aside. He wraps his hands around David's half-hard cock. "Happy?"

David's breath hitches. To his credit, he replies, "Not just that kind of happy."

"You actually took our friendship into consideration?" Alexis asks.

David seems surprised that Alexis even considers it a question. "It was important to you."

Alexis takes David's cock into his mouth.

It's been years since he's given a blowjob. He tells himself it's like riding a bicycle, but doing so only makes him over-think it. His mouth feels dry. His teeth are in the way. His gag reflex is too eager to remind him of its existence.

He retreats to familiar territory. He strokes David's cock with his hand, squeezing as he goes, making it harder and harder with each pull up. He concentrates on licking David's cock, running his tongue up and down the sides like a popsicle, remembering the lover so many years ago who had enjoyed that almost as much as the actual blowing, but David groans, and thrusts forward, and Alexis isn't thinking about anyone else anymore.

He's made bold by the encouragement. He remembers how to tease the slit. He uses his other hand to caress and tug at David's balls. Then it's back to his lips. He places kisses over the shaft, then wraps his entire mouth around it. He flutters the flat of his tongue along the underside. He sucks in pulses that have no rhythm.

David's soon fully hard and breathing harder. One hand braces him against the mattress. The other goes on Alexis's shoulder, holding him in a grip that's at times the easygoing, friendly pat that David gives to all his co-workers, at other times the rough clutch of the man who was so desperate to fuck him the night before.

David's desire for him becomes a real, palpable thing. No longer an abstract thought, or a swirl of hormones that could be blamed on the drink and entertainment of a bachelor party. It's not innocent flirting anymore either. It's honesty. Two men, wanting each other. Two adults, acting on it.

Alexis grabs David's hip, holding it tight. He suddenly doesn't want David to go anywhere. David responds by thrusting forward, and Alexis sighs with relief.

He wants to make David come. He wants to make him groan and shout and lose control. Memories flooding back to him, Alexis takes his mouth off of David's cock and sits back. David moans, not happily, but quiets when he sees that Alexis is looking up at him and sucking on first one finger, then two.

"I have to keep up with the competition," Alexis says, wondering if David remembers the conversation from the night before.

David does, because his look becomes darker, and hungrier. "Do it."

Alexis pulls David forward, then slides two fingers into David's ass. With his free hand he guides David's cock back into his mouth, and begins to suck him off in time to the thrusts of his fingers.

"Feels good," David tells him. His fingers are trembling on Alexis's shoulder. "So fucking good."

Alexis wants to respond in kind, but lets his actions speak instead. He works harder, adding in scrapes of his teeth, hums, and quick, sharp movements that send his fingers in and in and hitting David *right* on the exact spot needed to get him to go quiet, and whimper, and -

"Sorry!" Alexis coughs out as soon as his lungs can take in air again. His eyes are watering. His nose runs. His mouth and cheeks are smeared with saliva and come and oh *Christ* why did he have to forget how to co-ordinate the spit or the swallow? "Sorry! Been a while."

"Come here," David says. He makes room for Alexis on the bed. His body is soft and warm from coming. Alexis leans against him, trying to remember how to breathe.

David is relaxed. He takes tissues off the nightstand and wipes at Alexis's face. Then he starts kissing him. First on the neck, then the shoulders, then slowly up to the mouth.

"Wanna fuck me?" David asks.

Alexis's lungs forget that they ever had a problem. "I - yes. Whatever answer means yes."

They kiss. Their bodies form a tangle of arms and legs and tongues. Hands meet. Fingers knit together. Then David's hand goes lower, stroking at Alexis's cock which is *dying* for him, *dying* for the feel of those strong fingertips touching and pulling and jerking and oh, God, he could come from that alone, he's wanted David to jerk him off for so long he could come from just the feel of oh, yes, *yes* -

"Fuck me," David says.

"Okay," Alexis replies, glad, now, for that part of him that doesn't censor his speech.

It's an impossible fantasy, then. David, naked and inviting and ready, spread out underneath him, offering himself up like a prize, Alexis's cock so hard he almost doesn't even want to touch it for fear of coming. But he has to, because if he doesn't get inside of David he'll go insane. So he touches David, and fumbles for condoms, and struggles with the wrapper when -

There's a knock, and a voice saying "Guys?"

"*Shit*," Alexis hisses. Then he clamps a hand to his mouth, wondering if he was heard.

A louder knock. "*Guys?*"

It's Andy. For a moment Alexis selfishly wants to leave him where he is, but then he remembers that this was originally Andy's room.

The look on David's face indicates that he's on the same page. "I'll take care of it."

Alexis tries to find a way to talk him out of it. None come to mind. Then he remembers the practical. "David, we can't. The other bed - "

"I'll take care of it," David promises. He rolls over, giving Alexis a kiss. "Trust me."

It's not stated as a question, but Alexis treats it as such anyway. "Yes."

David smiles, then shoves him down onto the mattress.

It's not for sex, however. It's so David can carefully crawl over him and go to the other bed. He yanks the bedcovers off and wraps them around himself in an impromptu toga. He then takes the blanket underneath and throws it over Alexis, completely covering him from head to foot.

"Stay there," David tells him. He rubs Alexis's hip in a comforting manner, then from the sound of it goes to answer the door.

"Did I wake you up?" Andy asks.

"What do you think?" David replies.

"Sorry," Andy says. "Up all night. Had to shower. My stuff was here so - "

"Whatever," David says around a yawn. "You need me for anything or…?"

"Go back to sleep," Andy says. Then, his voice lower, asks, "Is Alexis still down for the count?"

"He's still in bed," David says.

"Sorry, Alex," Andy says in the loud stage-whisper of one who is still too drunk to realize how noisy he's being. "Stay where you are, I won't make a sound."

"Might do breakfast later," David tells him.

"Do not talk to me about food," Andy says. "Go. Resume shut-eye. My stuff's still in here, right?"

"Didn't touch anything," David says.

"I'll be quiet as a church mouse," Andy says.

The slam of the bathroom door gives lie to the words. There's thumps, squeaks, and rattles before the hum and tinny clatter of water rushing through the pipes and falling into the bathtub. It's only then, when Andy is clearly occupied, that Alexis feels David sit back down on the bed.

"He'll be a while," David says. "He always takes a long shower."

Alexis moves the blanket aside so he can look at him. "Shame we can't continue where we left off."

David runs his hand up Alexis's leg, palming the still-hard cock through the bedding. "Who says we can't?"

"David!"

"He's busy," David says. "We could be quiet."

"And if he comes out in two minutes because he forgot something?" Alexis counters.

"He won't," David says.

"He forgot to not come back here until later this morning," Alexis points out.

David takes his hand back. "Damn it."

"I'm not thrilled about it either," Alexis says.

"There's always LA," David says.

"We can keep doing this back in LA?" Alexis asks.

"You want to?" David asks.

Alexis thinks about it. "You waited four years?"

"Yeah," David says.

Alexis almost doesn't want to point out the flaw in David's actions. "If you knew how important it was to me not to get involved with co-workers, why did you *stop*?"

David becomes quiet. He looks away. "Because they keep talking about us getting cancelled. I figured if that happens, I was never going to see you again. Figured I'd take the chance. Lose you for the right reason, you know?"

Alexis sits up. "David, get off of the bed."

David stands. "Did I fuck it up again?"

"No," Alexis says. "I'm about two kisses away from taking you. I need all the willpower I can get."

A smile starts to dance on David's lips. "I did the right thing?"

"Get to the other side of the room," Alexis points. "And put your clothes on."

David comes closer. "Two kisses?"

"Clothes *on*," Alexis repeats.

David leans in. His eyes are dark, and Alexis can't bring himself to look away from them. "One."

It's a kiss. Long and soft. Without teeth, but enough tongue to make Alexis's cock twitch and yearn.

Alexis finds himself nuzzling David's cheek. He attempts to force out a token protest. "We really shouldn't."

"One and a half," David replies, bending down to suck and bite at Alexis's lower lip. His hands caress Alexis's chest, thumbnails flicking over the nipples.

Alexis moans. He wraps his arms around David, drawing him closer. "We *really* shouldn't."

"One and three-quarters," David says, dragging his mouth down to Alexis's neck where he runs his lips and tongue up and down the sensitive skin on his throat. "One and four-fifths…."

"Fuck me," Alexis whispers. "Right - "

The sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the both of them. David's off him in a flash, landing on the other bed in a sitting position that thankfully puts the bedcovers right over his lap.

"Forgot shampoo," Andy says, walking back into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He frowns at David. "You still awake?"

"Yup," David says, with simple honesty.

Andy digs through an overnight bag. "Hey, Alex. You up because of me?"

Alexis rubs his eyes, grateful for the pile of blankets which cover a multitude of sins. "No. That's entirely David's fault."

"Well sleep anyway," Andy says. "Don't let his snoring scare you."

Alexis can't help but glance at David, who is himself barely able to hide a smirk. "I won't."

"There it is," Andy says, producing a travel-sized bottle out of his bag. "Okay, back into what they're calling water pressure."

"Have fun," David waves him off.

Andy snorts. "With *you* two in hearing range?"

"Do you think he's aware of the irony?" Alexis murmurs once the bathroom door is safely closed again.

"Really want to fuck you," David whispers back. "Want you to fuck me."

Alexis grins, feeling a giddy sort of joy. "LA?"

David nods. "LA."

Alexis closes his eyes, savoring the promise of being with David again and again.