Fic: Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes (9/12)

[v-angelique.livejournal.com]

Title: Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes (9/12)
Author: Viktoria Angelique (v_angelique)
Pairing: DW/CP
Rating: series up to R; PG-13 this part
Disclaimer: This is very, very untrue, and AU in fact, so even more untrue! Also, I'm borrowing real people including Dave's wife and daughter, but only the names are real, the rest--completely fictional.
Warning: Some bits quite schmoopy.
Chapter Summary: Cats and kisses.

Previous Chapters




“Did I ever tell you that I had a cat?”

It was nearly midnight, and Dave and Craig were sprawled out on the living room floor, a small army of half-empty Chinese takeout cartons between them. It was a Saturday night, but not Dave’s week with Eliza Jane, so a number of empty beer bottles completed the picture.

“No. When was this?” Craig asked, propping his head up on his hand as he rolled to his side to face Dave.

“I was fourteen. We always had pets, you know, a dog for the first ten years of my life, birds, gerbils… but they were usually family pets, or sometimes one of the older girls would get one. I always wanted a cat, though.”

Craig watched Dave’s hands as he talked, moving expressively as he lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he spoke. Dave was always cute when he was tipsy, much more expressive, often giggling. Craig smiled as he watched his best friend ramble, comforted by the fact that Dave couldn’t see Craig watching him.

“I got Ginger for my fourteenth birthday. She was a beautiful cat, all lean and graceful and charcoal grey. Carmel said it was stupid to name a grey cat Ginger, but that’s what I wanted. I didn’t have my own room, but Ginger slept in my bed with me, and she was always so warm at night.”

“How did she die?”

“When I left for university my mum promised to watch her for me. A few weeks later I found out that Peter had ‘accidentally’ run her over in his car. He never much liked Ginger.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Never had a pet since.”



"What on earth are you eating?"

"Cold pizza. Breakfast of champions." Craig grinned around a slice.

"Well that's just mildly revolting."

"Hey, I wasn't to know that Kate was going to decide at the last minute that we are, after all, unfit to host a birthday party for Eliza. Incidentally, I am really tempted to sue the bitch."

"Craig…"

"I know, I know," he interrupted, holding up his hands. "I won't. But it's tempting."

"Yes, well, life sucks sometimes. Get used to it."

Craig just rolled his eyes. "You are so morbid. Now are you going to help me with the fact that we have no less than five pizzas in our fridge, or what?"

"I'm not eating pizza for breakfast. Forget it."

"C'mon, Dais. Live a little!"

"My Cocoa Puffs will be just fine, thanks. Hey did you get the bike all wrapped up in the garage?"

"Pink bow and everything. Do you really think we're qualified to teach a four year old to ride a bike, though?"

"That's why we bought the adorable pink helmet and the adorable pink training wheels," Dave replied sarcastically. "Besides, now that it's warming up again she's going to want to play in the street again. Least we can do is distract her."

"Or, you know, give her transportation to bigger and better streets," Craig muttered.

Dave grinned. "Hey. That sounded suspiciously like me."

"What?"

"That! You're talking like me."

"Am not."

"Are so," Dave countered with a little smug smile. "I think my responsibility is having an influence on you, Parker."

Craig just snorted and grabbed another slice of pizza. "When pigs fly."



“Yes! They’re finally fucking here!!”

Dave raised an eyebrow, watching late one evening as Craig tore into a cardboard box and ripped out a boxed set of DVDs, tearing the shrink wrap with his fingernails as he ran to the DVD player like a kid on Christmas morning.

“What the hell are those?”

“Oh, the Queer as Folk DVDs. The first three seasons. It’s an American show. Early birthday present from a friend back home,” Craig explained, popping in the first disc and settling in on the couch.

“Um, okay. Mind if I watch?”

Craig frowned. “Um, Daisy, no offence, but this stuff is rather explicit. You know, it’s sex—gay sex.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Craig, I’m not in sixth form. I know gay men have sex.”

“Yeah, but…” Craig trailed off and shrugged. “Well, suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh come on. If a show’s got you this excited, I want to see what’s so great about it.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be one of the best portrayals of gay people on television. Which means, you know, a lot of sex.”

“Funny, I don’t see you getting much.”

“Oh, shut it. I have priorities!”

Dave giggled. “Like?”

“You, dimwit. Can we watch now?”

Dave stared at Craig momentarily before nodding. “Oh, um, right, yeah. Put it on.”

And so, Dave and Craig sat on the couch, beer bottles in hand, almost thigh-to-thigh, watching the first episode of the American Queer as Folk.

“Holy shit,” Dave breathed, awed, when Brian began licking down Justin’s back and, presumably, to the crack of his arse as well. “Do you really do that?”

Craig turned, smirked, and noticed Dave couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen. “Yeah. Only with someone I’m serious with—I mean, it’s not the safest ever form of sex. But yeah. I’ve done it.”

“Does it… I mean is it a good thing?”

“Oh, yeah,” Craig agreed, but by now Brian was actually fucking Justin for the first time, and Dave wasn’t paying a shard of attention to Craig.

“Wow.” The single word was breathy, and Craig noticed Dave had scooted towards the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, in fascination. Taking a surreptitious glance downwards, Craig noticed another part of Dave’s body was just as curious. And that was something he wasn’t quite expecting. “It doesn’t… he doesn’t look like it hurts much… does it?”

Craig shrugged. “The first time, more than they’re letting on in this. But it doesn’t have to, much. It’s just a stretching sensation. It burns a bit, and then it gets really fucking good.”

“Even for the… you know, the guy on the bottom?”

“Especially for him. Dave, um…” Craig paused, not sure how far Dave wanted to take this little man-to-man. “You know how I told you about your prostate?”

“Um… yeah?”

“Well once that’s being stimulated, to be honest, you don’t really notice any pain. You’re too fucking strung out to care, really.”

“Oh.” Dave paused for a moment, thoughtful. “I don’t think I’ve ever been quite that into sex. Is that weird?”

Craig looked at Dave, who appeared genuinely worried, and smiled. “Nah. We’ve all gotta find what floats our boat, yeah? Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.” Craig chose not to mention the half-erection that Dave didn’t even seem to have noticed himself yet. He’d figure it out.



It was three am when Craig finally insisted they at least get some sleep before finishing the DVDs. Dave had been insistent that they continue, and was quickly becoming hooked on the show. He bombarded Craig with questions—“Are gay guys always non-monogamous? Do you really think about sex that often? Are you quite that fashion-conscious? I mean, look at you!”—but he wouldn’t take his eyes away from the screen. And so, Craig almost wasn’t surprised by Dave’s question when he stumbled towards Craig, half asleep, in the kitchen where he was rinsing out their beer bottles.

“What’s it really like to kiss a guy?” Dave bit his lip, scratching the back of his head as he pushed his hip to the side to lean against the dishwasher. “I mean, is it always as hot as it is when Brian and Justin do it?”

Craig gulped. “Um, well, no. It’s like with a girl, I guess. I can be good, or just sweet, or…”

“Really fucking hot?”

Craig’s eyes went wide. Dave’s own were dark, his fingers tucked in his belt loops, his lip glistening from where he had licked it moments before. “Yeah, um, it can be that too…”

Craig gasped when Dave reached out, intercepting his attempt to leave the kitchen, pushing him instead against the table with Dave close behind. “Kiss me, Craig.”

“Wha…I… are you sure you want this, Daisy?”

“Craig, I’m forty one years old, and I’ve never had such a strong urge to kiss someone in my life. I’ll go back to being scared and cute and innocent tomorrow. I’ll even be Justin to your Brian. But now, you’ve gotta fucking kiss me.”

Craig grinned, a little less rational in a direct result of what was pushing up against his thigh. It was just going to be one kiss, he knew that, but it could be a pretty damned good one and Dave was looking beautifully tousled enough to ravish.

“Well if I’m Brian to your Justin, does that mean I get to lick your arse?”

“Oh shut up and kiss me, you perv,” Dave demanded, his hands pinning Craig in on either side of the table.

“If you’ve got such an urge, Daisy, do it yourself,” Craig countered, his eyes laughing.

Dave’s breath hitched, and Craig almost thought he wasn’t going to do it, but then Dave was practically diving forward, his hand tangling messily in Craig’s hair as the other firmly clutched at his lower back, Dave’s lips absolutely devouring his own, teeth nipping and a sneaky little tongue licking just about everywhere it could reach. Craig moaned, bent half-backward over the table, and suddenly Dave’s erection was having another to contend with.

“Fuck,” Craig gasped when Dave finally pulled back for air. “We’ve gotta… we can’t…”

“Just one kiss, sweetheart,” Dave promised in a voice that was low and husky and the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Dave’s index finger pressed gently to Craig’s lower lip, and Craig just gawked, perhaps for the first time in front of Dave utterly speechless. “Tomorrow I go back to being freaked out, but tonight… you’ve made me feel sexy, Craig, and that’s not a feeling I’ve had much experience with. Sweet dreams.”

Craig continued to stare, unmoving, as Dave pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and then grinned, skipping off to his own bedroom. Craig fell awkwardly to his elbows, slouching against the table, unable to move for several minutes as he pieced together what had happened. And then, suddenly, something clicked, and he was in his room in no time flat, trying to take care of his little problem as quietly as possible. Something in this house had definitely changed, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t him.



The next two weeks were a little awkward. They didn’t talk about the kiss, and Dave had gone back to being his usual shy, blushing self. Craig, on the other hand, felt like the biggest fuckwit to hit the planet, and would apologise profusely if they were talking about it.

Yeah, okay, Dave was in denial. But Craig knew it would be cruel to rub that in. Dave was probably pretty fucking worried about it, and if Craig knew him at all, praying every night for guidance. Craig prayed, too, and it had been a long time since he’d prayed solo to any God. But it felt right, and so one morning he got down on his knees and he said a prayer.

It was that afternoon that he met Ruby.

Ruby slinked up to Craig in an alleyway he was using as a cut-through on the way to his car from the bakery, and circled him with the utmost grace, slipping around and between his legs like a four-legged prima ballerina.

He smiled at the little cat, much smaller than most cats he’d seen and also much cleaner, considering the fact that she was in an alleyway. And then he bent down, and found the folded note slipped under and taped to her collar.

Dear Friend,

My name is David. I am eleven years old, and I am dying. I know I’m young to be dying, but I am. I can feel it in my chest and my lungs when I breathe. I have cancer, and Mum says that if something happens to me, Ruby will be put to sleep. She didn’t tell me myself, but I heard her talking to Dad about it. Ruby’s a very good cat, and she’s only two years old. I don’t want her to be put to sleep, and so I’m hoping you’re a good man or lady, and that you’ll take good care of her. Mum says Ruby is a stupid name for a grey cat, but that’s her name and that’s what she answers to. She likes the wet cat food the best, and she’s very friendly. She might want to sleep with you. Please let her. She gets lonely sometimes. I’m hoping that by letting Ruby go she will have a good life when I am gone.

Sincerely, Ruby’s best friend, David

Craig looked around the alley suspiciously, almost thinking this was some sort of a strange practical joke. But no, there was no one else around, and Ruby was still circling him with an almost regal air, looking at him expectantly. He sent a quick thank you heavenwards, and scooped Ruby up in his arms, glad when her claws didn’t immediately sink into his skin.

“That’s a good Ruby. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m going to take you to meet your new friend,” Craig whispered, tucking the folded note in his back pocket and drying his eyes quickly on his shoulder.



“Dave?”

“In my room!”

Craig grinned and rounded the corner to find Dave sitting in his bed with a stack of mail in his lap, sorting through it. His jaw dropped open when he saw the cat, however, and he sat frozen for a moment before he leaped up, taking the poor thing out of Craig's arms.

"Oh my God. Is she yours? Can we keep her?"

Craig laughed at Dave's momentary regression. "She's yours, actually. I found her and she was just begging me to take her home to you, you see." Dave raised an eyebrow sceptically and Craig pulled the note out of his pocket as Dave sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking the cat who seemed perfectly happy to be in his lap.

"Oh my God…" he whispered when he had finished reading. "That's so sad…"

Craig nodded. "I know, but I think you might just be the answer to this kid's prayers. He even has your name."

"Yeah, I noticed. And Ruby…" Dave smiled, looking up at Craig. "She looks just like Ginger. You're amazing, Parker."

Craig smiled sheepishly, and then gasped when Dave jumped up, dropping Ruby to the floor in the process and threw his arms around his friend.

"This is so, so perfect… thank you so much, Craig," Dave murmured as he held the other man tight, the cat looking up indignantly from the spot she'd been dropped to.

"Anything for you, Daisy. I just want you to be happy."

"Do you?" Dave pulled back but didn't let go, his eyes wistful and just a few inches from Craig's face. "I owe you an apology, you know."

"You do? For what, pray tell?"

"For kissing you when I didn't know what I wanted."

Craig frowned. "It's okay, Daisy. You're straight, that's not a problem for me and it never has been. I don't want you to think that Ruby was some sort of bribe or something…"

"No," Dave interrupted. "That's not what I mean. I don't think I am… straight, I mean. But I was confused."

"Oh." Craig looked pretty confused himself. "Are you still confused?"

"A little, yeah. But I want you, Craig. I'm sorry. I know this makes things awkward."

Craig frowned, momentarily ignoring the little flutter in his chest at Dave's words. "How does it make things awkward?"

"Well you can't very well have some guy who's got a crush on you living in your house, I mean, that's not very fair… it's fine, I'll move as soon as I can find a place…"

Dave tried to pull out of Craig's arms, but Craig stopped him, his hands tight on Dave's biceps. "No, wait. Stop, Dave. I don't understand. Why would you leave? I want you here."

"You do?" Dave bit his lip. "Even knowing this?"

"Of course knowing this. Goddamn, Daisy, you're such a beautiful person. Didn't you notice how I reacted when you kissed me?"

"You liked it…" Dave said slowly, smiling slightly. "But I don’t think you understand."

"Tell me. What don't I understand?"

"I'm not… I'm don't want to have sex with you, Craig." Craig frowned but didn't reply. "I mean… I do, maybe, someday, but I can't just do that and be done with it, and go back to being friends. I'm not like those guys on Queer as Folk. I've always preferred a relationship, and I'd move much too slowly for your tastes…"

"Dave. You're not making any sense. Come on… you think I don't prefer a relationship? Why do you think I haven't slept with any men since I broke up with my boyfriend? Why do you think we broke up in the first place? I told you, I was too romantic for him. I don't do casual."

"Oh. But I… I mean I don't know…"

"You're confused. I get that. You're also the most amazing man I know, incidentally, and you're a great father and a wonderful friend. So why wouldn't I want to give you all the time you need? Trust me, Daisy. You're worth it."

"Oh." Dave's face contorted into a wide smile. and he leaned forward slightly so that his forehead was touching Craig's. "You are too wonderful for words, Craig."

Craig grinned and whispered. "Then don't talk."

Dave gasped when Craig leaned in to kiss him. He tried to pull away after a short kiss, but Dave wasn't having it. Tasting Craig's lips again, he didn't want to stop, and held him tightly by the waist to keep him in one place as he pulled Craig's lower lip lightly with his teeth.

"Jesus," Craig whispered with a shudder when Dave released his lip. Dave grinned and pulled it again.

"Lovely," Dave replied in an equally rough whisper, ducking his head slightly to press a soft kiss underneath Craig's ear. "One of these days, I'm going to find all the spots that make you shiver."

"You're… fuck… doing a pretty good job of it right now." Craig moaned as Dave's teeth captured his earlobe.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Dave grinned and kissed Craig hard on the lips again. "Fuck, you make me so hot, Craig. I've never felt so fucking hot for it," he murmured.

"Fucking hell," Craig gasped. "I didn't know you had such a dirty mouth on you."

"I didn't," Dave replied with a grin, his hand snaking up under the back of Craig's shirt and caressing his lower back with a slightly sweaty palm. "I don't feel a need to hold back with you."

"Jesus Christ," Craig exclaimed when Dave lowered his head again and placed and open-mouthed kiss to the base of his throat. "Then don't."

Dave smiled. "Mmm, I don't plan to. Maybe not today, but…"

"I understand," Craig interrupted, suddenly serious. "Maybe this is too much."

"No," Dave disagreed. "This is just about right, I think." And then Dave's hand cupped Craig's arse as his tongue plunged between Craig's lips.