A/N: I think I might add to this and make it more than a one shot, but I'm not too sure yet.
I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up with Carlisle underneath me, his fingers knotted behind my neck while I held his waist. As my lips moved against his, and his tongue darted out to meet mine half way, I wasn't entirely sure that I didn't like it. His touches were soft and cautious, both of us a little shy about what was happening. And I couldn't really decide what 'happening' actually entailed; a day ago, I'd been cuddled up with my wife on the bed, and now I was on top of Carlisle fucking Cullen on the couch.
He tasted sweet, like the alcohol we'd been drinking for the past few hours, and I wanted more of it, continually trying to deepen the kiss. He didn't stop my advances, pulling me down against him a little harder.
I let my hands wander a little, running my fingers down his sides and marvelling at how different if felt to hold a guy this way instead of a woman. Suddenly hating the clothing between us, I ran my thumb along the waist of his jeans, edging it under the hem of his t-shirt and against his back. I froze, waiting for him to grant permission for me to do it, or tell me it was too much.
In response, he tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling out of the kiss to catch unneeded breath. "What are we doing, Eleazar?" he whispered to me, his speech a little slurred by the amount of booze he'd consumed. His face was flushed with the level of his intoxication and a mixture of excitement and nerves.
"I don't know," I whispered back, kissing along his jaw and gently letting my teeth meet his skin. I bit back a smile when my lips against the base of his neck caused the same reaction in him as it did Carmen.
As payback, he ran his fingers down my back, his hands on my waist now. He was exceptionally cute, I decided, especially with his cheeks slightly pink and a little unsure of himself. It certainly wasn't helping my foggy thoughts to make sense of any of this. This shouldn't feel this good. Not with Carlisle, anyway. I'd messed around with a few other men before, so it wasn't a new concept for me.
He'd left it at that though, and I'm wasn't sure whether he was waiting for me to make that next move, or if that was as far as he wanted to go. I picked the first option and hoped for the best; he didn't seem too phased by my erection digging into his leg, which was a positive. At the same time though, he was angled under me in a way that gave me no insight as to how he felt about it. I had no idea whether he was actually enjoying this, or trying to satisfy a curiosity. Or maybe the curiosity was alcohol-born. I didn't know.
I assumed that he wouldn't have a problem telling me to cut it out if I crossed the line, and I tried to test my boundaries. Pushing him flat on his back – or as flat as the couch allowed me to, anyway – I knelt over him, one knee on either side of his hips. It obviously gave him a bit of a fright, because his hands were immediately on my thighs. I couldn't tell if he was steadying me, or considering pushing me off. I didn't give him time to question the position though, kissing him again to distract him.
It seemed to work, and he slid his fingers up my legs, using the belt loops of my pants to pull me a little closer. My reaction to him touching my ass was a little embarrassing – I wasn't sixteen anymore - but he didn't seem to care.
I pushed my hand under his shirt completely, again pausing to see how he would take it. He hesitated upon feeling my fingers against his back, but not for too long. My hatred for his clothing was definitely growing, and I wasn't sure how to handle it. I didn't think he would take too kindly to me stripping him without asking first.
He leant up a little to deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms around me again to support himself. I was glad I had to keep at least one hand firmly on the couch at all times in order to stop myself from falling on him, otherwise I wasn't sure how well I would have been able to control myself.
He was fucking amazing at it, and I immediately pushed him back down again, wanting to touch him without the fear of crushing him. The scrape of his teeth against my collarbone made me a little rough in my urgency, and I was aware that the way I had him lying on the couch was uncomfortable. Conforming my suspicion that he would tell me if he didn't like something, he let me know immediately.
Trying to sit up and finding he couldn't while we were like this, he grabbed my hand, stopping me from moving it. "This hurts?" It was a question rather than a statement, and indication of just how intoxicated he currently was.
"Yeah, it hurts," I confirmed, laughing. Without warning, I slid onto the floor, pulling him down on top of me. "Better?" He kissed me again straight away, his fingers in my hair. It was a little too encouraging for me, and I immediately tried to grind against him. He was onto me, though, locking one of my legs between his to hold me in place and halt my movement.
Two could play at that game. I flipped him over, faster than he anticipated, and help his hands down against the carpet, making him let me go. He laughed, but it sounded a little nervous. I wished we'd set a safe word before we'd started whatever the fuck we were doing now.
He tried to pull away, finding he couldn't. "Fuck me, Eleazar…"
I was pretty sure it was just a figure of speech, and not instructions. Kind of, anyway. I could always tease him, though. "Well, are you going to undress me first? I'm not doing all the work here, Carlisle." We both paused, looking at each other, and I raised an eyebrow in question.
Rolling his eyes at me, he tried again to pull free. Curious as to how far he would take this, I let him go. Carlisle being Carlisle, he wasn't going to back down from a challenge, apparently. He looked a little nervous as he untucked my shirt, and started undoing the buttons painfully slowly.
I tried to distract him with kisses as I pulled his shirt off him, but his hands still froze as I undid his belt. I paused too, waiting for him to decide what he was going to tolerate. After a moment, he returned to trying to untangle me from my clothing, and I undid his jeans, all the while expecting him to back out.
I lifted myself off him so that he could get my pants off completely, but left his jeans alone for a minute, holding his face in my hands to force him to focus for a moment. "You doing okay?"
He just shrugged. "I don't know, am I?"
I laughed, unable to help pressing my lips against his. "Yes, you are."
He hesitated, starting to get nervous. "…have you…done this with a guy before?" he asked eventually, glancing up at me.
I nodded, kissing him again. "When I was in the Volturi, I screwed around with Demetri sometimes. It was never a serous relationship, but we would fuck when we were bored."
He considered this for a moment, and I wondered if this was the point at which he lost his shit. He was coping remarkably well, by maybe that was due to his drunken state.
"Have you?" I asked curiously. I wasn't sure that he would remember this conversation in the morning, and I badly wanted to ask him a slew of questions I knew he probably wouldn't answer sober.
"…No…" he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the room spinning a second later.
"I didn't think so," I teased.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he teased back, starting to laugh with me.
I just shook my head, kissing his forehead patronisingly. "You're just very straight, Carlisle."
He kissed me again, but I think it was to shut me up. It worked; I was quickly distracted. I tugged his jeans down a little and he didn't resist. Kissing his neck and trying to force myself not to bite and leave mark, all I could focus on was his fingers digging into my back. I couldn't stop myself from grinding against him, unable to force back a moan and bringing my lips to his again. He let me get his jeans off him completely, and wrapped his arms around my neck.
He was allowing me to move against him now, and I had lost all self-control. I was barely functioning enough to kiss him back.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Carlisle," I groaned, focusing on breathing steadily. I was already a sweaty mess, and I didn't need to be panting on top of that.
He pulled back. "What do you want me to do?" He blatantly teasing me now; he fucking knew what I wanted, but I wasn't about to outright ask him to do it.
"Don't be a dick," I grumbled at him. I wasn't sure what I expected his reaction would be – I knew what I wanted it to be – but I was still shocked as he kissed his way down my chest and gave me no fucking warning whatsoever. It was pure heaven, though.
I wondered - briefly, before the only words I apparently knew were Carlisle's name and a few curses – how sober Eleazar and Carlisle would feel about this in the morning. Because drunk Eleazar was loving every minute of this, and drunk Carlisle was obviously still trying to figure out what the fuck he was supposed to do. I felt like giving him instructions, but to be fair to him, he did currently have my dick in his mouth, which I was assuming was a totally new experience. According to the strict Christian upbringing he had, I was fairly sure that doing anything that wasn't platonic with someone other than the girl he was married to wasn't something he'd done before.
I kept my hands firmly on his shoulders to stop myself from pushing him or pulling his hair. I wasn't sure why exactly I thought that was an issue, given what was currently happening. Mostly, I was just relieved that any condoms and lube that I had was upstairs, safely locked in a draw. Carlisle certainly couldn't walk there without falling, and I doubted I could have either.
I was barely coherent enough to pull him away as adrenaline surged through me. It was little embarrassing how quickly I was done for, but it was far too pleasurable for me to care too much. I wondered what Carlisle was expecting now, and I just lay beside him to give him a chance to figure it out. I was sleepy now, but I didn't tell him that.
Still, he just leant his head against my shoulder kissing my cheek and hugging my waist. I wrapped my arm around him, still trying to guess where this was going. "You want another drink?" he asked after a minute of silence. Sitting up a bit, he reached over to pick up his bottle from before, downing the last few mouthfuls before standing up.
"Yeah, I guess," I laughed. It was the last thing either of us needed, but I wasn't about to complain.
He came back with a bottle and a shot glass, handing me the bottle and quickly swallowing the potent amount of booze in the shot. Chuckling to myself, I couldn't resist a cheap jab.
"Am I driving you to hard liquor, Carlisle?"
He didn't offer much of a response, pulling his jeans and t-shirt back on and sitting on the floor against the couch. I decided I better follow his lead; I wasn't about to be the only one naked, either, although theoretically I'd never gotten him out of his underwear. Try as I might, I couldn't find my shirt, and Carlisle's silence had me wondering if he was overthinking what had just happened.
Tossing me my missing item of clothing off the couch, he laughed at me. Apparently it was infectious, because it had me chuckling too.
We sat on the floor together well into the early hours of the morning. My hangover was starting to bite, and Carlisle was leaning forward, resting his head on his knees to keep the room from spinning and his stomach contents down. Eventually, he sat up properly and mumbled something about going to bed. He was unsteady on his feet as he got up, but seemed okay once he found his balance.
I was still waiting for him to freak out. Maybe that would come when he sobered up a bit; he didn't hold alcohol the best, and was pretty wasted. I thought I was going to have to wait for him to overcome his hangover tomorrow first, though.
"Can you even walk, lightweight?" I teased.
He rolled his eyes at me. "Shut up…see you in the morning…"
"Good night, Carlisle.' I wondered if either of us would even remember this in the morning.