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Numb3rs drabbles: Miles To You (Don/Charlie pre-slash, PG-15)
So I actually wrote this a year ago and then never polished it up well enough to post. This is my first Don/Charlie in two years, I think. Yay?
Title: Miles To You
Pairing: Don/Charlie pre-slash
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Lately Don's been catching himself staring too long.
Word Count: 4x100
Spoilers: none
Warnings: incestuous implications
Notes: The first draft was very thoroughly betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emmademarais (many thanks to her!), and I've since attempted to follow her suggestions and that draft is this one, which remains unbetaed, but is hopefully better. Also thanks to mercilynn for a last-minute readthrough and a title.
Prompt: May 2008 Rewind at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
numb3rs100: Conversation, Chemistry, Connection, Confession
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Conversation
It's getting harder to hold a conversation with Charlie, impossible to follow a train of thought while fighting the urge to reach out and touch, to run fingers through his curly hair and feel the heat of Charlie's skin, flushed with the excitement of discussing... Lagrange multipliers.
Lately Don's been catching himself staring too long or feeling his hand start to gravitate towards Charlie of its own accord, till he realizes and has to self-consciously pull back.
It's painful, because Don prides himself--or used to--on his self control and without warning, years of training suddenly elude him.
Chemistry
Tonight he can feel the alcohol fucking with his head, but it's pleasant and light and he doesn't care--wishes it could always be easy like this, relaxing and laughing with his brother... his brother.
Charlie is further gone than he is, all grins and pink cheeks and dumb math jokes that Don doesn't understand but can't help laughing at anyway. He throws his head back when he laughs, curls brushing back from his face, scruff of his neck exposed.
Don finds himself staring and stops, his own smile fading away. He blames it on the scotch.
Their eyes meet.
Connection
The worst is that Charlie won't stop touching him. He lands his hand heavy on Don's shoulder, his thigh, pokes at his chest to make a point while Don sits there taking it, savoring the connection but trying to resist it. He brushes Charlie's hand away, chokes out a teasing laugh when the movement distracts Charlie from his latest theorem, and leans away slowly, settling back into his chair, until Charlie leans in after him, orbiting into Don's space like he doesn't even know what he's doing.
Don closes his eyes, trying to ignore Charlie's fingertips tapping along his wrist.
Confession
He should have seen it coming. He's trained to keep his guard up and anticipate, but lately his training keeps failing him.
Charlie takes him by surprise.
"So what was that... Lagranger thing?" he prompts, but there's silence so he looks over to find Charlie staring at him.
He waits, unsure. He feels like he's missed something.
"When I was 15 you were 2,477 miles away," Charlie whispers. "When I was 26 you were 667 miles away."
A pause.
"So how far am I now?"
"8.3 miles," Charlie says. He sits back.
"Hey," Don tells him. "I counted them too."
Title: Miles To You
Pairing: Don/Charlie pre-slash
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Lately Don's been catching himself staring too long.
Word Count: 4x100
Spoilers: none
Warnings: incestuous implications
Notes: The first draft was very thoroughly betaed by
emmademarais (many thanks to her!), and I've since attempted to follow her suggestions and that draft is this one, which remains unbetaed, but is hopefully better. Also thanks to mercilynn for a last-minute readthrough and a title.Prompt: May 2008 Rewind at
numb3rs100: Conversation, Chemistry, Connection, ConfessionDisclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Conversation
It's getting harder to hold a conversation with Charlie, impossible to follow a train of thought while fighting the urge to reach out and touch, to run fingers through his curly hair and feel the heat of Charlie's skin, flushed with the excitement of discussing... Lagrange multipliers.
Lately Don's been catching himself staring too long or feeling his hand start to gravitate towards Charlie of its own accord, till he realizes and has to self-consciously pull back.
It's painful, because Don prides himself--or used to--on his self control and without warning, years of training suddenly elude him.
Chemistry
Tonight he can feel the alcohol fucking with his head, but it's pleasant and light and he doesn't care--wishes it could always be easy like this, relaxing and laughing with his brother... his brother.
Charlie is further gone than he is, all grins and pink cheeks and dumb math jokes that Don doesn't understand but can't help laughing at anyway. He throws his head back when he laughs, curls brushing back from his face, scruff of his neck exposed.
Don finds himself staring and stops, his own smile fading away. He blames it on the scotch.
Their eyes meet.
Connection
The worst is that Charlie won't stop touching him. He lands his hand heavy on Don's shoulder, his thigh, pokes at his chest to make a point while Don sits there taking it, savoring the connection but trying to resist it. He brushes Charlie's hand away, chokes out a teasing laugh when the movement distracts Charlie from his latest theorem, and leans away slowly, settling back into his chair, until Charlie leans in after him, orbiting into Don's space like he doesn't even know what he's doing.
Don closes his eyes, trying to ignore Charlie's fingertips tapping along his wrist.
Confession
He should have seen it coming. He's trained to keep his guard up and anticipate, but lately his training keeps failing him.
Charlie takes him by surprise.
"So what was that... Lagranger thing?" he prompts, but there's silence so he looks over to find Charlie staring at him.
He waits, unsure. He feels like he's missed something.
"When I was 15 you were 2,477 miles away," Charlie whispers. "When I was 26 you were 667 miles away."
A pause.
"So how far am I now?"
"8.3 miles," Charlie says. He sits back.
"Hey," Don tells him. "I counted them too."