FIC: "Tsingtao", Don Cragen/George Huang
Jan. 20th, 2006 03:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rwryterTitle: Tsingtao
Summary: Elliot left them with a case of beer and each other.
Pairing: Cragen/Huang
Rating: NC-17
Author's Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sarcasticsra. She wanted smut, smut she shall get.
It had begun as a normal night after a long day’s work, inviting everyone back to the apartment for takeout Chinese and a case of Tsingtao. It was ending anything but normally. Munch had been all ready to agree to join them until Fin gave him that look, and Olivia had begged off. Elliot had been there, but vanished after his second beer, leaving the two of them with most of a case of potent suds and need for something, anything to release the tension. Huang had daringly made the first move, leaning over Cragen’s legs to snag another egg roll, and the captain must have been drunk, because he’d run his hand down Huang’s ass, cupping it, but he was in AA and hadn’t had a beer and he wasn’t going to think about that anymore.
George shifted, and slid, and sat up, facing Don, straddling his legs, leaning in for that first kiss. He’d intended tender and sweet, but Don didn’t want that, turned it dark and hard and passionate, one hand still cradling George’s ass, the other unbuttoning his shirt, and George ran one hand over Don’s smooth head, worked the belt buckle with the other. He broke away long enough to breathe the word “bed,” and Don was lifting him, holding him with one arm and running feathery touches along his chest, his back, his face. George tried to do the same, but was melting so far into Don that he could hardly control his own body any more. Don laid him down on the bed, one hand still running those magical feathery touches along him and the other taking his shoes, belt, everything, until he was wearing nothing.
The gentle, dancing, sensitive fingers left, and George groaned his disapproval, until Don fastened onto his mouth again, nipping and sucking and licking at his lips. George’s hands went for the buttons on the shirt, only to find it was already gone, and settled for his own version of the soft seeking, playing fingers along Don’s body, until Don was moaning into his mouth, running his fingers down George’s chest and along his thighs, moving ever inward and upward, one hand reaching for the nightstand and finding the familiar bottle, squeezing the clear gel onto his fingers. George bucked upward when Don entered him with one finger, taking hold of his length with his other hand, and when the second finger was in him he thought he was in heaven, but that was nothing because ohgod Don was pushing in and this was nirvana, this was paradise, this was everything until Don shifted and hit just the right spot and George screamed with the aching, blinding, blazing pleasure, screamed it into Don’s mouth and Don moaned it right back into his. When he came it was like never before, like he was everything and all the joy in the universe was his and his alone. Don’s orgasm followed his own, and he wasn’t a screamer, he just groaned out George’s name and pulsed into him and barely kept from collapsing on the smaller man. Don rolled onto his back, panting, and George lay there, staring up at the ceiling, hardly breathing, still living the memory of how amazingly, perfectly wonderful it had been until Don chuckled at how completely they had been set up.
Summary: Elliot left them with a case of beer and each other.
Pairing: Cragen/Huang
Rating: NC-17
Author's Note: For
sarcasticsra. She wanted smut, smut she shall get.It had begun as a normal night after a long day’s work, inviting everyone back to the apartment for takeout Chinese and a case of Tsingtao. It was ending anything but normally. Munch had been all ready to agree to join them until Fin gave him that look, and Olivia had begged off. Elliot had been there, but vanished after his second beer, leaving the two of them with most of a case of potent suds and need for something, anything to release the tension. Huang had daringly made the first move, leaning over Cragen’s legs to snag another egg roll, and the captain must have been drunk, because he’d run his hand down Huang’s ass, cupping it, but he was in AA and hadn’t had a beer and he wasn’t going to think about that anymore.
George shifted, and slid, and sat up, facing Don, straddling his legs, leaning in for that first kiss. He’d intended tender and sweet, but Don didn’t want that, turned it dark and hard and passionate, one hand still cradling George’s ass, the other unbuttoning his shirt, and George ran one hand over Don’s smooth head, worked the belt buckle with the other. He broke away long enough to breathe the word “bed,” and Don was lifting him, holding him with one arm and running feathery touches along his chest, his back, his face. George tried to do the same, but was melting so far into Don that he could hardly control his own body any more. Don laid him down on the bed, one hand still running those magical feathery touches along him and the other taking his shoes, belt, everything, until he was wearing nothing.
The gentle, dancing, sensitive fingers left, and George groaned his disapproval, until Don fastened onto his mouth again, nipping and sucking and licking at his lips. George’s hands went for the buttons on the shirt, only to find it was already gone, and settled for his own version of the soft seeking, playing fingers along Don’s body, until Don was moaning into his mouth, running his fingers down George’s chest and along his thighs, moving ever inward and upward, one hand reaching for the nightstand and finding the familiar bottle, squeezing the clear gel onto his fingers. George bucked upward when Don entered him with one finger, taking hold of his length with his other hand, and when the second finger was in him he thought he was in heaven, but that was nothing because ohgod Don was pushing in and this was nirvana, this was paradise, this was everything until Don shifted and hit just the right spot and George screamed with the aching, blinding, blazing pleasure, screamed it into Don’s mouth and Don moaned it right back into his. When he came it was like never before, like he was everything and all the joy in the universe was his and his alone. Don’s orgasm followed his own, and he wasn’t a screamer, he just groaned out George’s name and pulsed into him and barely kept from collapsing on the smaller man. Don rolled onto his back, panting, and George lay there, staring up at the ceiling, hardly breathing, still living the memory of how amazingly, perfectly wonderful it had been until Don chuckled at how completely they had been set up.
