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[ilovedaisyw.livejournal.com]

Title: Brothers on a Hotel Bed
Author: Captain Daisyshine
Pairing: Dave/Bean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dave is ready to throw in the towel. As any good hitchhiker will tell you, this is not the most prudent of ideas.
Warnings: Angsty!Daisy, Angsty!Bean, followed by fluff and mansex.
Disclaimer: These men belong to themselves, not me. And a damn shame it is, too.
Archive: Green Opals is welcome to it; everyone else, just drop me a line to let me know where it’s going.
Notes: The title song is “Brothers on a Hotel Bed” by Death Cab for Cutie. Excellent song, really, though I’ve rather twisted its meaning. I haven’t written any fic in ages; hope I’m not too rusty. Written in two hours while listening to “A Case of You” by Tori Amos on repeat. No beta; thus, all mistakes are my own. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Cross-posted to capt_daisyshine and ilovedaisyw.
Dedication: The nice folks at Mirrormere and Green Opals, for renewing my desire to write slash. Razzleberry, moblo, my dirty sidekick, Anne Alice, and the rest of the usual crowd. It’s good to be back.




You may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident
On the back of a motor bike
With your arms outstretched trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed we couldn't break from the concrete
In the city where we still reside.
And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea, like navy men
Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed

Dave sits on the edge of the bed, musing abstractedly. His thoughts have no clear central concept; rather, words and images flash through his mind as though some inner film projector is playing on fast-forward. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just get up and leave, since Sean has made it so unmitigatedly apparent that he is no longer needed here.

He combs his fingers through spiky reddish hair as if he might find the answers he is seeking hidden within strands of his own dead cells. What in the world has happened between them? Dave cannot put his finger on the moment when he first realized that the (tastefully high thread-count) fabric of their relationship had begun to unravel. Perhaps there was no one moment. Perhaps it has grown older and begun to fray from simple age... Simple age.

Eureka, eh?

For Dave is always noticing new wrinkles, more of the lines around his mouth and eyes. And Sean has certainly seen them, too, in these last months. The novelty has worn off, maybe? Did Sean really only love the newness of it all? Dave’s boyish charm–his first male lover, incidentally. And now they are settling into easiness, into a rut, it seems, and Dave certainly isn’t getting any younger.

How can he have been so foolish? To give his heart on the first date, the first kiss, the first fuck. Admittedly, they had all been distinctly above-par. But sod it all, what does any of it mean? He is surely but a transition for Sean, a bridge from determinedly macho man’s man to gloriously queer.

Dave stands.

He is already wearing his trousers; he pulls on his shirt and, carrying socks and shoes, walks as silently as he can out of the bedroom, out of the house, out of Sean’s life.

*****

“Sean?”

The blond glances up, unsurprised to discover that it is Viggo who has disrupted his concentration. What subject he was so seriously pondering he could not have said, but one might surmise, from recent events, that it has something to do with his apparently former lover, Dave Wenham.

“Vig.”

“Sean, I’ve been wondering... Just what happened with you and David?”

Sean starts a little at this. How did Viggo...? Well, because he’s Viggo, of course. “Ah...” Sean scratches the back of his head absently. “I’m not entirely sure. I mean, we’d gotten a bit complacent lately, and maybe I wasn’t as affectionate as I should have been. Nothing too terrible, I hope. But I woke up yesterday morning, and he was gone.” Sean takes a long drag on his cigarette and frowns. “I miss him.”

Viggo chews his lower lip thoughtfully, taking everything in.

He has an idea.

*****

Daisy-

The Marriott Hotel, 7.30 this evening, room 1412.

Signed,

A Friend

Dave reads over the note again. It looks suspiciously like Viggo’s handwriting. What does Viggo want with him?... Maybe it’s something to do with Sean– that’s probably it. Well, he’s not going to go and humiliate himself, having The Talk and all that nonsense. It’s better off this way.

It’s ten to eight, and Dave is thirsty. He goes to the fridge for a beer, then sits down on the couch to watch an old black-and-white on the television.

A little over half an hour later, he hears a knock at his front door. With a sigh, he goes to answer it.

“Viggo. Wasn’t, ah, expecting to see you tonight.”

“I thought I might find you here,” Viggo replies, thought it is not a true reply to Dave’s statement. “Come on, get in the car. We’re already late; Sean’s been at the hotel for nearly an hour.”

A pout begins to spread itself over the Australian’s face, and he sets his feet. “I don’t need to see him. It’s over; that’s fine.”

Viggo shakes his head. “I think you might want to hear what he has to say.” Dave looks skeptical. “Seriously. Would I put you into a situation that was only going to cause you pain?” Dave shakes his head ‘no’; his pout/frown softens, and Viggo takes him by the arm. “Let’s go, then.” Dave follows, docile and meek. Viggo’s cool logic and raspy voice could move mountains.

*****

Room 1412 is a decent ride up in the lift. Dave has a bit of time to collect his thoughts in the interim between being dropped at the hotel by Viggo and reaching the door of the room. When he gets there, he steels himself. He has no idea what sort of Sean lies beyond the door– will they reconcile and fall back into old patterns, or will Sean end things once and for all...? And he has no idea what he himself wants, so that’s no help.

As he is thinking these thoughts, he knocks tentatively. An interval of mere seconds, and the door is open; Sean is ushering him inside.

The door closes; they stand awkwardly, sizing each other up, almost. Dave breaks the silence. “Um,” he says. “So... yeah.” He laughs nervously. “Sorry, I’m not really winning any points on the articulation front. What I’m trying to say is– well, ask, really– what are we doing here?”

Sean looks unhappy, and Dave immediately regrets the question.

“David,” he says, shyly. “Would you, ah, lie on the bed with me, and talk?” Sean is blushing. How could the answer be anything but ‘yes’? In wordless response, Dave lies down on one side of the bed. Sean takes the other, leaving a considerable gap between them.

They are quiet for several minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Sean begins. “Listen, Dais–“ he catches himself, “David, I don’t know what’s gone wrong between us, but I’m willing to try to fix it. That is, if that’s what you want.”

Dave chooses his words carefully. “We– I– You–. Look, you hardly touched me anymore. I understand that I was the first man you’d been with, and it only makes sense if you’d grown bored. Maybe wanted to sample other flavors. I completely understand.”

Sean sighs. He can’t deny to himself that he’s wondered from time to time if maybe he should try on a few other men for size before devoting himself to Daisy. But he’s never seriously considered it. “What first drew you to me?” he asks suddenly. “I mean, you had to have known I was straight, or thought I was.”

Dave’s surprise is evident, but he considers it. “I suppose... You were so astoundingly beautiful, lionlike almost. I’d seen your films; I always thought you were good, and good-looking, too. And I was intrigued... I mean, we’re playing brothers. I wondered about the man who would be Boromir to my Faramir.”

“Do you know what drew me to you?” Sean asks. Dave shakes his head. “That devious grin... You looked so young and, well, evil when you were plotting something. And the brother thing. I felt close to you immediately. And you were beautiful. I’d never thought of another man as ‘beautiful’ before I met you.”

Dave scoffs at the notion. “I’m not beautiful,” he asserts.

Sean frowns, but not in anger. “How can you think that? Your eyes, your hair, your lips– my God, your lips– David, your whole being.”

For some reason, Dave is struck by the urge to curl into himself and cry. This he does, and Sean closes the gap between them, wrapping the younger man in his arms. “David,” he says urgently, “Let me show you how beautiful you are.” Dave answers with a soft moan as Sean presses against his back.

Sean rolls the redhead so that he is flat on his back and begins to remove his clothing methodically, lips tongue and teeth following to tease the patches of skin as his hands bare them. Dave’s soft cries spur him on further, faster. There is a brief interlude so that Sean can stand and remove his own clothes, but he returns immediately to his lover’s side.

They are pressed against one another on the hotel bed, desperately sweet. “Mmm,” Sean’s mouth on Dave’s chest, “you have the loveliest nipples, little brother.” Dave’s eyes widen. The Brit takes one hard round nub into his mouth and sucks on it, sending a dart of arousal straight to the younger man’s cock. Dave arches upward into the hot wet touch.

“And your hips,” Sean continues, “God, you have the sexiest hips.” He worries a small patch of flesh just inside Dave’s right hipbone, bruising it slightly, marking his lover. Dave moans. As Sean and his talented mouth head further south, Dave extends a grasping hand.

“Stop, please.” Sean complies, allowing himself to be pulled up the bed so that their mouths are even. They crash together, each fighting for control of the kiss. Tongues duel, sliding together. When they draw back, gasping for air, Sean leans in to whisper next to Dave’s ear. “I love you, Daisy,” he breathes. “Brother.”

Dave’s breath is coming in pants as he shifts and twists and maneuvers so that his head is level with Sean’s cock and his own erection is pointed at his lover’s face. Sean has still not entirely adjusted to this change in position when the head of his member is taken into the warm cavern of Dave’s mouth.

He lets loose a breathless scream.

“Oh, Jesus,” he groans. He can feel his lover smile around his aching cock, and he leans forward to take Dave into his mouth. Dave’s moan at this vibrates through Sean’s entire body, and thus begins a cycle of suck, moan, suck, lick, moan, suck.

Sean shudders at the obscene wet noises made by their mouths and cocks, and he touches Dave’s hair to let him know he’s close. Dave grabs his lover’s hand and entwines their fingers, and it is enough, and Sean is coming, and his throat is contracting around the head of Dave’s cock, and then Dave is coming, too as they scream their pleasure together, moaning around one another’s cocks.

Then it is over, and they collapse bonelessly onto the bed. Some shifting, and they are holding tightly together, showering sweet, almost chaste kisses over one another’s faces.

“You won’t leave me again, will you, Daisy?” Sean asks, trying not to let the concern creep into his voice.

“No, brother,” Dave replies, with a devious smile.