A/N: Changed the formatting a bit, but story is the same.
The door to the Eppes house opened, and Alan came in, shrugging off his coat onto the hook by the door. He heard noise coming from the back of the house, and followed the sound through to the back room, where he found Charlie and Amita curled up together on the couch, glued to a Marx Brothers movie.
Remains of Chinese takeout littered the table in front of them, next to an empty bottle of wine and three DVD boxes. Charlie was stretched out on the couch with Amita nestled up close, her back against him, his face buried in her hair, and his arms around her.
"Duck Soup! Good choice," Alan opined. "Did you know that Paramount actually dropped the Marx Brothers because of this film because they saw it as too political?" Amita smiled up at Alan, but didn't comment, and Charlie just raised his eyebrows at his father, who got the hint.
"Well," Alan said, clearing his throat, "I hope you had a good time at the museum. I'll be heading up to bed now. Good night, you two."
"Good night, Mr. Eppes," called Amita, while Charlie called out, "Good night, Dad."
Charlie listened to Alan's footsteps on the stairs, and waited for the sound of the door closing. Then Amita rolled over and pulled Charlie back on top of her, and they both started giggling, before returning to what they had been doing before Alan walked in—kissing passionately.
A few minutes later, Amita's hands were under Charlie's shirt, lightly scratching his back with her nails, and Charlie's hands were gently stroking Amita's breasts beneath her shirt, when Charlie stopped and pushed himself up, looking down on Amita.
"Amita, would— I mean, do you— I mean, should we…" He trailed off, closing his eyes, and ducking his head. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously and waited for her answer. He was so hot and hard and ready, but he didn't want to push things with her, and he wanted to make sure that now was the right time.
Amita stared up at him, eyes huge and dark and hungry. "Charlie, I want you, I want to be with you. Tonight. If you're not ready, I can wait, but I'm ready."
Charlie stared down at her, searching her eyes, then abruptly he jumped up, pulling her with her. "Upstairs," he croaked nervously, gesturing with his head toward the staircase. Amita smiled and followed him up the stairs, her hand on his back.
Charlie's room was like his office—spacious and cluttered. A dark blue bedspread covered the double bed, and an ancient bookshelf sagged under the weight of books stacked every which way. The closet door was half-open, and a pile of laundry spilled out onto the floor.
Charlie flipped on the switch to turn on the bedside light, and cringed. It had looked neat enough this morning when he had changed the sheets and made the bed while thinking hopeful thoughts, but now it just looked… A mess.
Amita looked around and smiled. "So this is the bedroom of the great Dr. Charles Eppes, huh?"
Charlie nodded awkwardly. "I'm sorry it looks like this, I…" Amita silenced him with a kiss, pulling the door shut behind her.
Charlie wrapped his arms around her and concentrated on kissing her deeply. His arms wrapped around her body, stroking her back slowly, reaching down to cup and slowly knead her gorgeous ass.
She murmured an appreciative sound, and pressed herself closer to him, shifting her hips and slowly grinding against his hardness. He groaned, and his hands moved up to the bottom of her blouse. He took hold of the fabric and pulled it up over her head, and she helped him, freeing her hair and shaking it out.
His mouth went dry as the soft bedside light caressed her curves, accented by the lace of her bra, and he just stood there and stared at her for a moment. He was rock-hard and ready to the point of pain—he had waited for this moment for so long, he couldn't believe he was actually here.
Amita smiled at him, and put her hand on his face. "Hey, are you just going to look, or what?" She teased him gently. Then she reached out and began to unbutton his shirt, pausing to lay her hand over his heart for a moment. "Charlie…" She looked into his eyes, dark and hooded with desire, and knew nothing else needed to be said.
Charlie took Amita's hand and led her to his bed. He pulled back the bedspread and sat down, pulling her down with him. Their mouths fused, and their bodies grew hot as they pressed against each other.
Charlie's hands reached around to unclasp Amita's bra, and he bent down and kissed her neck as he removed the bra and dropped it on the floor behind him. She moaned as his thumbs caressed her nipples, and her hands twined in his chest hair, running up and down his front.
Amita's back arched as Charlie's mouth moved lower, and he took one tight little nipple into his mouth. Her hands moved lower, rubbing his hard length through his pants, and he grunted and spread his legs a bit wider to give her better access.
He licked and then gently nibbled on her breast, and her hands moved faster, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching inside. She stroked him for a moment, and felt him shudder with pleasure.
His hands went down to the waistband of her slacks, and he unbuttoned them, and she lifted her bottom to help him remove her pants and underwear, before removing the rest of his clothes. They fell backwards on the bed, naked and hot and ready for each other.
His mouth covered hers, and her hands stroked down his back to cup his butt and bring it closer to her.
Charlie's hand stroked slowly down Amita's body, and came to rest in the warmth between her legs. He slid one long finger into her, and then a second, and her back arched and her breath hitched as he stroked her hotter and hotter.
She reached between them and found Charlie's organ, and wrapped her hand around it, stroking up and down, enjoying the sounds of passion she brought from him. Then her mouth opened and her head fell back as his mouth closed on her nipple again, sucking it as he brought her to a shuddering climax with his fingers. The hand she had wrapped around his hardness loosened as the pleasure overtook her, and her eyes closed in release.
Charlie withdrew his fingers from Amita and kissed her passionately, then rolled off of her, provoking a groan. He reached over and opened his nightstand and pulled out a small foil packet, and when he rolled back over, she plucked it from his fingers and opened the packet.
Taking him in her hands again, she bent over and took him in her mouth briefly, running her tongue around his hard shaft and making his fingers clench in her hair. Then she unrolled the condom over him and moved back up to kiss him.
Charlie rolled over Amita and positioned himself to enter her. He stared deep into her eyes as he slowly parted her lips, and she guided him in. He filled her slowly until he was all the way in, and his jaw clenched with the effort to hold himself back. She was so tight and wet, and they fit together so perfectly.
Her hands went to his hips and held him as he began slowly to move in and out of her, in the dance as old as time. They picked up the rhythm as effortlessly as if they had been lovers for years, increasing in tempo as the passion built.
Charlie's breathing grew heavier as their dance became more and more intense, and Amita's fingers dug into his shoulder and she moaned into his mouth. They drove each other on, her hips rising up to meet each thrust he made into her body.
Her back arched, and her breath was coming in little pants. She was so close, and then Charlie covered her mouth with his and said her name in a low, guttural voice filled with lust and passion, and she came in a wave of heat greater than any she'd ever known.
Charlie felt Amita go over the edge, and he choked out her name again, and then thrust one final thrust deep into her, and followed her into the depths of passion. Spent, he lay on top of her for a moment, catching his breath and feeling her trembles fade away. He rolled to his side and withdrew from her, then simply held her close against his chest, not wanting the moment to end.
Amita could sense the moment Charlie's brain clicked back into gear. His body started to fidget, and his fingers started tracing patterns on her shoulder. She rolled over so she could look into his face, resting her chin on his chest.
"Have somewhere to be right now?" she teased him. His eyes opened wide.
"I didn't mean, I mean… No. I don't. Except for here. Right here." Charlie's arms slid around Amita and drew her up to him, and they shared a long, sweet kiss that ended with Amita reaching down between them to take Charlie into her hands.
"Hmm, feels like you have some unfinished business here, buddy—why don't you go take care of this and come on back here and we'll see if you're sleepy yet," Amita giggled quietly.
"Yeah," Charlie nodded, "right." He quickly hopped out of bed and disposed of the used condom, then crawled back in next to Amita. They cuddled up and pulled the blanket over their head, teasing and talking and touching.
Charlie's low rumble of a laugh mixed with Amita's giggles, and their gentle touches quickly heated. This time their lovemaking was slow, a tender sweetness replacing the fire of their last coupling. Spent, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms.