Stage manager? Oh, you mean God.

Roleplaying Account I'm NYU's theatre department's worst nightmare. -- Name's Neil P. Carter. I'm a Junior. Studying stage management & screenwriting / playwriting.

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

‘You’re an- an asshole, y’know- y’know that?’

A low groan escaped Dave and his grip tightened on the slim hips, short nails biting the warm skin. Wow, wow, Jesus Holy Christ— His back bowed, arching up into the tight heat and he spoke- growled- through clenched teeth, “You talk too much.” Which meant that Dave wasn’t doing his job correctly. Neil shouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence— no, no. Neil shouldn’t be able to say anything but Dave’s name by that point. He shouldn’t be able to do anything but moan and curse and call out Dave’s name and dammit, he needed to step it up. Had he really lost it that much in his time celibate for Neil? 

If so, he was going to just have to make up for lost time, wasn’t he?

The rhythm of Neil’s hips- the slow roll and drag- was maddening and the coil in his stomach clenched and when Neil pushed back, Dave surged forward- thrusting up strongerfasterdeeper into Neil. His hands held Neil, guiding a little faster- a little harder down onto his cock. He wasn’t stupid— he knew that Neil had put them in this position so that he would be the one in control. Neil always did have a problem with wanting to always run the show. And normally, Dave would be perfectly fine with this. But that was before Neil- before he wanted to do everything right and be better and all for the boy with sweaty dark hair plastered to his forehead and bright blue eyes with pupils blown with want for him. All for him- anything, no everything for him.

One hand steadied Neil’s hip, continuing to guide him up and down, his position and thrust changing slightly with each movement, trying to find that sweet spot in Neil that would have him see stars and crying out Dave’s name. The other hand moved from Neil’s hip, callouses running down and on the inside of his thigh before wrapping around Neil’s cock. His hand moved down slow, pulling up almost the same torturous pace that Neil had moved at earlier, his thumb swiping at Neil’s weeping cockhead as he continued to thrust.

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

His aim, at first, had been to have things go slowly. To go at the very pace that he wanted-- not how Dave wanted it. This was his time, he was on top, and he-- "Fuuuuck..." melted. His breath hitched and he gulped thickly, eyes shitting slowly as Dave drove into him. "Please, please," he managed, swallowing, nodding in time.

Dave's hands were everywhere he had wanted them to be. They ran down his thighs and grasped at his cock, cupped, caressed him just how Neil liked it-- rough. "Fuck," he repeated, leaning forward, gyrating his hips and listening purely to the lewd slapping of Dave's skin against his own, "D-dave," he whimpered, "I l-love you you, fuckin' ass-asshole," he gathered his thoughts enough to say that, to whisper it, to send it off and hopefully have it reach his boyfriend.

Right, because they were boyfriends.

They were serious, they were more than just serious, for some reason, they were in love and that changed the nature of everything. He knew Dave, had worked with him long enough to see how he worked, dissected his brain in vain, vain attempts to figure out what exactly it was that was so annoying (turned out, that's just how David fucking Harris was,) was there at his lowest as Dave was at his own-- honestly, Sweeney Todd, never again-- and--

God, Neil loved him.

[wombatfractal-deactivated201208]

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

Nails dig into his skin, drawing a low moan from him, muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of Neil’s shoulder- feeling Neil’s head press into the hollow of his own. This was it- this was what it felt like to be really one with a person. Where every movement was met by the other person, where every breath and gasp and moan was echoed by the other. Everything felt like it was on fire— a light sheen of sweat had broken out across his body and the coil in his stomach twisted and his arms shook under him—

And suddenly hands were against his shoulders, pushing him back- back onto his back, into the mattress. The tightness that enveloped him never left but the shifting caused his breathing to hitch and the coil in his stomach to tighten and his eyes slid tightly shut, thinking of something-anything- but the delicious squeeze around his cock because God, he was not ready to be done just yet. Teeth bit down and tugged at his bottom lip, a flush making it’s way across his face and his chest. When the sudden urge to thrust blindly and finish ebbed away, his eyes cracked open, looking up to see Neil— Neil straddling him with his hands on his chest and the most perfect flush tinging the pale skin of his cheeks and throat. 

But sitting there- being so still while his cock throbbed inside of Neil, was damn near torture. He tried, he really did— but the need became too much and his hands settled back on Neil’s hips, thumbs tracing along the skin stretching across the bones and slowly rolled his hips, thrusting lazily up into Neil. 

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

Now, Neil wasn't new to fucking. He wasn't knew to hooking up and getting laid and just because there was sufficient lack of that in the months prior to his relationship with Dave, didn't mean that he hadn't been a little bit of a slut back in the days where he actually had time for it. Mark was adequate, and maybe that had been a little bit of a relationship but Christ it was not the time to think about that, especially when Dave's dick was stuck up Neil's ass.

He wanted control. That much shouldn't have been a surprise to Dave. Dave knew how he was about work and he knew how he was about doing things well, doing things perfectly. That left no room for error and that meant that Neil had to take the entire situation into his own hands.

Literally. 

So, Dave was shoved and Neil was, naturally, in control of it all. That was, at least, until the warm hands settled at his hips and heated fingertips traced nonsensical patterns over his skin and god fucking damn it, was Dave-- Neil's thoughts dissolved and he gulped loudly and very obviously, his nails pushing into the skin of Dave's pectorals. His hands began to run up his chest and his head hanged back and Neil bit on his lip as he slowly, slowly rode Dave, his hips moving in a somewhat steady rhythm. There was a muffled groan and a small gasp that escaped him as his hips go down and Neil sinks onto Dave's cock. "You're an- an asshole, y'know- y'know that?"

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

black out // oneshot

At first, there’s a lot of bruising. Now, Neil isn’t one to be clumsy, but yeah, there’ve been accidents at work, so he attributes them to that at first. It’s normal. There are tools and pieces to the set and fights and, well, Dave’s more than a little handsy in bed, so he never thinks they’re serious. It’s only when he’s getting undressed later, readying himself for a shower (one of the ones he doesn’t take with Dave, hilariously enough— he’s cooking,) that he notices that his skin, at some parts, is more yellow-green and purple than it is its normal pale toned. Again, he doesn’t think it’s serious— just Dave being a little rougher than usual, they tend to do that. But a few weeks later, he doesn’t seem any better and all, and it looks like there are even more bruises.

And, well, it makes him just a little uneasy. He’s not the sort to bruise easily, and he did remember that there was a time where his dad had been sick, but— pft, no, it’s obviously nothing, because Neil thinks himself invincible most of the time— food and sleep is for the weak, and when it was time for a show, then it was time for a show and there was absolutely no fucking around.

There really isn’t any time to worry. Because, hello, there’s a fucking wedding to plan and god knows that Dave isn’t going to take on any of the responsibilities. There are people to invite and food to decide on and there is music to choose and, the thing is, Neil doesn’t know shit about weddings.

He just knows he wants it to be perfect.

So when the nose bleeds start and his gums are a little more sensitive than normal (they bleed, too, sometimes, fucking hell,) he’s only a little pissed off. Neil can handle it, so long as it doesn’t get on any of the tablecloths, he can. It isn’t like it’s anything bad, really, it’s just… him being a little sick. Stress, probably, at least, that’s what Neil thinks Dave would explain it as.

It’s when his joints start hurting and he feels like an old fucking man that he decides to take any action whatsoever. The morning is like any other (though, it’s a little colder than normal, so Dave and Neil linger in their bed before the blond hauls himself up to go and make coffee,) and Neil likes that about it. There’s a small feeling of dread that’s creeping up his spine but he effectively ignores it, if there’s anything he’s learned what with being with Dave for so long, it was how to ignore tiny, annoying things. Like dread.

The lie is hard to say, Neil saying that he’s actually got to run some bizarro errands before going into work, but he manages, saying it with a bit of a smile and a small, but long kiss pressed to Dave’s lips, “I’ll be there soon, don’t miss me too much, fuckass,” Neil says as his parting words, because he needs something to get rid of Dave’s kicked puppy look, and the both of them go in their separate directions immediately afterwards— Dave to the theatre and Neil to the doctor’s office.

The office isn’t as bad as he thought it’d be, but then again, it’s much different than he thought. There’s a haggard old man being held by his nurse, a mom wheeling out her son (she looks tired, so tired, and he can only think about Patricia, and adjust himself in his seat,) and there is a couple, looking like they’re about ready to cry— that’s when Neil focusses on the floor, counting the teal and grey flecks that decorate the tiles.

The whole visit, Neil thinks, goes by as a blur. He doesn’t really take anything in at that point, and he certainly can’t remember any of it later. There are a thousand tests to take and a million more things running through Neil’s mind. Questions are answered, but not all of them, and he’s still left with the uncertainty of it all, which might very well kill him. He doesn’t really understand anything of what the doctor says, because he doesn’t know shit. Neil knows that he isn’t that sick, there’s nothing wrong, just some stress and maybe some exhaustion and— something along those lines— but nothing else. Nothing, right?

So the words sound like some sort of far away voice, but it echoes in his brain and he can’t seem to get it out. There’s a possibility of some— some fucking intracranial solid neoplasm, the doc’ said. A tumor— a fucking tumor. A few more tests and scans and apparently, it’s for certain.

Getting home is another thing that he thinks of as a blur. How he gets to his apartment, he has no idea, but apparently, he got there. Neil stands outside of his door for a full hour, unmoving and completely still, save his small, short breaths and the blink of his eyes that occurs from time to time. His body leans backwards and his back hits the brick wall, Neil sliding down and staring blankly at the door.

It’s a few hours later when Dave comes home. The blond runs towards him and Neil’s suddenly shaken out of his trance. “What— no, sorry,” he laughs it all off and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair and giving him a bright smile, “Wow just— tired. So fucking tired,” and Dave mumbles something along the lines of I told you so, you fucking asshole, and all Neil does is roll his eyes and sigh in annoyance and thinks I love you so much, you fuckass, you don’t even know.

[whenthedragonsdance]

“Why are you in my house…naked?”

“Your, um, mom let me in.”

[aseaofquotes]

Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

with a little sweetness; // oneshot

When it comes to love, Neil doesn’t really know what to do. He’s pretty sure that Dave has more experience than he could ever have (unfortunately) and that- well- he can’t measure up to anyone Dave’s ever been with. It makes him mad, sometimes, to think about how Dave was before, to think that he let some girl hurt him that bad (though, he can understand-- there was a kid involved and all,) and a part of him, deep down and extremely mushy, wanted to make him feel. Alright. Feel whole. Feel better. He wanted to see him smile and maybe, just maybe, he could actually accomplish it.

Dave isn’t too picky of a person, but Neil is still clueless as to what the hell to do. Sure, he’s been riding his ass (not literally, truly, it was the other way around, in that aspect,) at work and he’s been being a complete dickhead of a Stage Manager, but he is only doing his job, isn’t he?

“Right,” he says to himself as he stands in their kitchen. Dave’s doing something down at the theatre, some bullshit job Neil asked him to do, really, only to get him out of the apartment. Neil lets out a frustrated sigh and he can feel the headache that he has turning into a migraine, degree by degree, and Christ on a fucking cracker, why does Dave like the most complicated shit?

He’s staring down at some crude, printed out recipe that he can barely read (the printer needs more ink, fuck.) It’s calling for a shit ton of chocolate and mint and a ton of other things and for once in his life, Neil regrets taking theatre in middle school, opting out of Home Economics. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, a hand pushing through his hair, pulling at the ends out of how frustrated he was feeling-- Dave is always the one that handles the kitchen. The most Neil knows how to make is eggs and maybe how to fry chicken in a pan-- but actually cooking? Baking shit? Nope, no thanks, pass Neil the cyanide pill instead.

Even though he feels defeated and thwarted beyond belief, he gets to work. After tying Dave’s apron (it’s so fucking gay but Neil can’t help but like the way Dave looks in it when he wears it,) around his hips he leans over the counter and takes a good look at all of the ingredients he had acquired over the past few days. “Alright,” he mumbles, pushing his hair away again and taking a long, deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

He doesn’t have anger issues, see?

His thin fingers pick up the recipe and he squints a little to look at it. The paper had been folded so many times over that it was barely legible, and their lack of ink in the printer didn’t help in the least.

1 pouch of sugar cookie mix

1/2 cup butter, softened (Neil snickered at that, maybe he was spending too much time with Dave)

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon min extract

6 to 8 drops green food color

1 egg

1 cup creme de menthe baking chips

1 cup semisweet chocolate chunks

Neil nods as he’s reading the paper, making small noises, yes, mhm, alright, faggot, I hate him, he’s sort of cute, as he reads on, making a note of everything that he had, which was, well, everything. He was prepared. He was. Fucking swear it. No one could say otherwise. Assholes.

The oven is already preheating and Neil is getting ready to do-- everything else. It was three o’clock and-- shit, son, he had half an hour until Dave arrived back.

On his toes, he reaches up into the highest cabinet and reached for a large bowl, grabbing it and almost dropping the rest of the cabinet’s contents, but able to slam the door shut quick enough. He is smooth as fuck and Dave isn't allowed to tell him anything else.

The cookie mix, the butter, the extract, the food color, and the egg were all mixed together, and maybe, well-- it was messy. Neil’s is splattered with extract and food coloring and clunks of dough but he powered on through, stirring in the baking chips and the chocolate chunks, adding extra for himself (he didn’t like mint all that much but, well, chocolate was good.)

With a spoon, he scoops up dough and drops them all over the place on the cookie sheet that he had prepared beforehand. When all the dough is out of the bowl and on the sheet, he makes a very content sound, nodding eagerly and thinking that he was perhaps the best god damn boyfriend on the planet.

While they baked for the fifteen minutes that they needed, Neil ran about and called Dave, trying to keep him at the theatre for as long as possible, only getting his whiny tone in response. ‘But Neeeeiiiiiiillllllll, I’m huuuuungryyyyyy,’ was what rang in the Stage Manager’s ear, testing his patience as that tone always did. “No. Fuck you,” came Neil’s answer and he could’ve sworn that he was going to kill him when he heard the door open and his footsteps stepping into the small area by the kitchen.

Neil launches himself from the couch and shoves him back into the hall, closing the door behind them, and glaring at Dave-- “What the fuck, you- fucking fuckass, you’re supposed to be at the theatre!”

Dave pouts, his stomach growling and his shoulders slumping, “I’m hungryyyyy--” The whine is cut short as his brows knit together and he starts to sniff at the air, Neil scrambling to cover and pinch at his nose, “Fuck you, stop it!--” he almost yells, knocking him back into the floor, ending up straddling over Dave’s middle, his hands on Dave’s nose and mouth, “Stop. It. You. Fucking. Ass. Hole.”

Neil cal feel Dave’s smile stretching under his lips and his hands are pushed away and maybe Neil needs to start going to the gym because Dave really needs a good ass kicking. “You made me cookies, didn’t you, Neil?” Neil swears that Dave sounds like Spongebob and his anger levels rise. He can feel Dave’s arms wrap around him, Dave’s chin leans on Neil’s chest and he swears that the blond has the stupidest look on his face, “You looooveee meeee,” comes next and Neil rolls his eyes and shoves him away, back onto the floor, getting up and storming back into the apartment yanking Dave’s keys from the door, “You can stay in the hall, asshole,” and he slams the door, the sound almost instantly followed by the pathetic scratching. “You aren’t getting any god damn fucking cookies,” he mutters, crossing his arms and sitting a the base of the door.

“But Neil--”

“No.”

[larissys]

Logan Lerman’s Twitpics

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

Dave’s heart was racing and his head was spinning and sweet lord, he couldn’t catch his damn breath. Everything was Neil- the arms that wrapped around his neck and the scent that filled his nose and the voice in his ear that seemed to silence every other noise. Legs had wrapped around his hips, making the tightness that enveloped his cock all the tighter and as he pulled Neil closer, he moaned lowly at the movement- a shiver of delight running through him. His eyes sought out Neil’s and God, there was nothing more beautiful to him at that moment then Neil’s face. His eyes were dark with lust- want, need- for him, his lips were swollen and red and the dark strands of hair were starting to stick to his forehead as a slight sheen of sweat started to break out across his body, chased quickly after by a flush across the perfect pale skin. Neil’s cock twitching between them sent a surge of desire and heat through him and his breath escaped him in a huff at the words spoken unevenly, ‘I love you’. 

He loved him- oh Christ Almighty, he loved him. Part of Dave had been so convinced that after Megan, he was broke beyond repair— that there was no recovery from what he had gone through. That love was just no longer in the cards for him. But then Neil had come along and… and he honestly never thought he would reach this point. But here he was— balls deep in his boyfriend for the first time and damn him if he didn’t feel completely whole for a moment. It was like admitting it- that he loved Neil, not just to Neil but to himself- that it had caused something in him to click and the overwhelming feeling of being one with another person on more than just the physical level caused his heart to beat all the faster. 

‘M-move, asshole.’

Dave didn’t need to be told twice. One hand gripped Neil’s thin hip and the other snaked around to cup the back of his head, tilting his head back, lips claiming his as he drew back and rocked forward- burying himself again. The tightness that enveloped his cock and squeezed the base drew a moan from his chest, the grip on Neil’s hip tightening and the muscles of his arms and back rippling from the effort it took not to draw back and slam again and again into Neil. Slowly, he drew back and rocked forward again- not pausing this time before drawing back again. The rhythm was smooth and sensual, his lips moving against Neil’s in deep kisses with his tongue eager to memorize every part of Neil’s mouth. Everything in him was screaming to move fasterdeeperharder— but it was Neil. And for Neil, it was going to be perfect. This was no random fuck session where the person held absolutely no importance (therefore their opinions were not take into account). This was Neil and they were not going to fuck— Dave was going to make love to him. Lips moved down across Neil’s jawline, the slightest salty taste on his lips making him smirk before murmuring in a low voice against the shell of Neil’s ear, “I love you so much, Neil. So damn much— so damn tight-- oh, God…”

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

He felt his heart sink and bob back up again, his breathing ceasing for the moment that Dave's hips shifted, burying his cock inside of Neil and pulling out again, a long, drawn out moan pulling itself from Neil's lips, his eyes fluttering shut with the sheer pleasure of it all. His blunt nails dug into skin and at that point, he wasn't sure if it had been his own or if it had been Dave's. He whimpered slightly into the kisses that Dave gave him, returning each of them with equal emotion and equal want, "Fuck," he mewled, heels digging into the small of Dave's back, hips rocking forwards, cock throbbing as Dave pushed in and pulled out once more.

Dave's words were broken as they came out, Neil catching sight of the stupid smirk on his boyfriend's lips-- that stupid fucking smirk-- 'I love you so much, Neil. So damn much— so damn tight-- oh, God…'

Neil laughed at that-- a laugh that dissolved into a bit of a groan as he pushed back against him, hips rolling and eyes shutting again, "B-better fucking be," he managed, gulping thickly and thrusting forward and back once more, feeling his body melt slightly, pulling Dave in for another kiss, "I love you, I love you, you fucking-- fucking fuckass,"

He gulped after that, his head moving, forehead tucking into the crook between Dave's neck and shoulder-- "God damn it," Neil muttered, hands slipping downwards, gripping and Dave's shoulders and pushing him back once more, rolling them both over so that he was atop him, legs folded on either of his sides. He moved his hands onto Dave's chest and closed his eyes, his head hanging forward, Neil trying to catch his breath.

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

His finger breached the ring of muscle up to the first knuckle and, god, he could have choked from the tightness there. A low growl started to make it’s way out of his mouth before he surged forward and captured Neil’s lips against his own, mouth slanting and his tongue moving to trace the curve of his bottom lip as he sunk his finger deeper. ‘C-come on, then. one finger ain’t gonna do it.’ Neil moved and Dave felt his own breathing hitch and he shook his head, a smile pulling up at the corners of his mouth, disappearing briefly while the lips against his moved before breaking away, ‘I love you, you fucking fuckass.’ Another laugh left him, falling against Neil’s lips and he shook his head, moving to kiss the curve of his throat as he started to withdraw his finger before adding another, gently pressing forward before his fingers started to scissor— stretching him and preparing him. His lips glided in soft kisses and caresses down his throat, murmuring against the jutting collarbone, “I love you, Neil. I love you so much—’

A third finger joined the other two and helped to stretch— drawing back just before he pressed forward and crooked his fingers, brushing against the walnut sized bundle of nerves. His lips ghosted over the curve of his ear, murmuring, “I want you— want you so bad, Neil…” Slowly, his fingers withdrew and Dave sat up reaching for the condom, ripping the foil with his teeth and spitting the torn wrapper. The condom went on easily and more slide was applied to his fingers and to his cock, throbbing under the latex covering. Leaning forward, his hands gripping Neil’s hips, sliding the slim hips further up, pressing him back- deeper in the mattress. His heart was pounding like mad and he was sure that his heart was lodged firmly in his throat and as he lined himself up with Neil’s entrance, he pressed a quick kiss to Neil’s lips before slowly rolling his hips forward, feeling the tightness envelop the head of his cock, causing a loan moan to leave him as he pressed himself further forward.

The tightness- the smell of Neil, the taste of Neil on his tongue and the overwhelming feeling in his chest that this was Neil caused Dave’s head to spin. Allowing him a moment to adjust, Dave slowly rolled his hips back before pressing forward again. 

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

Dave laughed and Neil smiled, tilting his head and letting out a small, contented sound at the feel of Dave's lips pressing against his throat, a flutter of a moan leaving his own lips at the feel of a second finger entering him, that small murmur dissolving into a long, desperate groan accompanied by the slight jerk of Neil's hips that was all caused by the movement of Dave's digits within him. The praise at his throat did nothing to stop his moaning, the sentiments only adding and his mind willing his hips to move smoothly, less erratically, he couldn't lose himself. No. Not yet.

Three fingers and a twitching, leaking cock later, and Neil was more than frantic. The digits hooked and tilted and brushed against him and he could've sworn he saw stars with how hard his eyes closed, a drawn-out, filthy moan ripping from him, Neil finishing it off with a very loud, "Fuck me," cutting himself off after that, slightly panting, his breath rolling over the beginning-to-glisten skin of Dave. 'I want you— want you so bad, Neil…' He nodded, encouraging it, his hand moving from Dave's hair to the back of Dave's neck, pulling him down and slanting their lips together, moving them, tongue licking into his mouth, "Y-yes," he murmured, the word ending in a whimper with the eventual disappearance of Dave's finger.

He felt so undeniably and unbelievably empty, having been left almost pining, with a heat in the pit of his body so consuming, and a cock that almost pained him-- his heart palpating quickly, skipping a few beats when he felt the callused hand raising his hip-- readying. "Just--" he kissed him again and held on to him, gulping and eager and all too ready to continue.

A sharp gasp later and the feeling of being filled found him again. Neil winced slightly, relaxing, the pained sound shifting into a moan with the roll of his boyfriend's hips. Neil's legs wrapped around and his heels crossed and he pushed himself upwards, arms looping behind Dave's neck, lips meeting his and hips rolling, the skin of his ass meeting with the skin of his boyfriend's thigh, "Ahhn," he cried out, breathless, pupils blown wide. He felt his own cock twitch between their abdomens and at that, he sighed helplessly, breathing in deep and unevenly, "I love you," Neil managed, feeling Dave's rapid, high-speed pulse with his arms around his neck, "M-move, asshole."

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

Neil Carter, more than a little sloshed, professing his 'love' to his boyfriend, Dave Harris, at a party after opening night of a rather tech-heavy show.

Taken by: Mark, for blackmail reasons.

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

The most sinfully delicious sounding moan fell from Neil’s lips and his head fell back, Dave’s lips already moving to kiss- to bite and taste- the slightly flushed skin stretched taut across bones, the slight definition of muscles flexing as his hand moved down and back up. Biting down at the pulse point and sucking the skin harshly, his hand picked up a steady rhythm- up and down, up and down. Hips jerked forwards and his free hand quickly moved to grip the warm skin of Neil’s ass, the friction against his cock causing it to twinge almost painfully. His lips found Neil’s shoulder and he kissed it, murmuring against Neil’s warm skin, “Mm— God, babe—” his hand paused to allow a drop of of precum to gather at the velvety head of his cock before swiping it with the pad of his thumb, his own hips rolling, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. 

‘Dave, f-fuck.’ The moaned and stuttered curse caused his grip on Neil’s ass to tighten and when those hips started to thrust lazily into his hand, an appreciative noise fell into Neil’s mouth as their tongues twisted. The warmth that pooled in the pit of his stomach churned and everything in him was yearning for more touch and taste and god, he wanted him. He had waited for him and he would have waited however long he wanted— it wasn’t about him anymore. He didn’t care about what he wanted. Everything was Neil, everything was about and for Neil.

The soft gasp that left Neil and then the plea had the adrenaline racing through Dave’s veins and he allowed Neil to pull him over, settling his weight over him comfortably before he was wrapped up in a violent kiss that had him almost whimper with need against Neil’s swollen lips. ‘Please, fuck, Dave, please.’ His breathing was coming out faster, his chest rising and falling and his hips rolled forward to meet Neil’s, grinding his cock against Neil’s- a shock of pleasure running through him. ‘Either we do this now, or I will lop off s-something.’ Dave pressed a kiss to Neil’s shoulder, allowing himself to be pulled closer- closer, nearer, tighter- and he murmured a bit breathless, “Well, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

Lips slotted against Neil’s and his tongue pressed forward, claiming Neil’s mouth- his tongue moving to chase the taste of him- before he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, reaching for the drawer to his side table. Surely he had a condom in there and he knew he had lube. The cool bottle met his hand and then the familiar foil packet. Both were brought over to the bed, set on the comforter before Dave turned his attention back to Neil. His hands found Neil’s and he laced their fingers, lifting Neil’s arms and pressing them into the bed as his mouth descended to Neil’s, kissing him deeply, “I love you.” Disentangling his hand from Neil’s, he reached for the bottle, popping it open and applying a bit of the slickness to his fingers. The other hand moved from Neil’s, going to grip the leg slung across his hip to raise it and another kiss was pressed to Neil’s lips as Dave’s hand moved down, his index finger finding the ring of muscle. The slide to his fingers was gently applied, the slightest bit of pressure to his touch as he languidly circled the ring, waiting for it to relax before slowly pressing forward.

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

'I love you.'

Perhaps it was those three words that made the whole situation that much more. This was David Benjamin Harris, resident womanizing asshole- resident fuckass, and he was actually saying those words. Words that Neil knew, oh he knew, that hadn't been said to someone who wasn't family in a long time. Dave loved him, he loved him, and that made their kiss like fire, that made this mean so much more to him than anything with Mark, anything with whoever he had slept with before-- because it wasn't the same. It was no where near the same.

Fingers intertwined and Neil gripped Dave's hand tightly, holding onto it for dear life, forcing everything to pause-- for a moment, for a moment, he could deal with just a moment, couldn't he? Lips met again and he murmured the words in return, "I love you, too," he said, lips twitching slightly, the small half-smirk turning into a full blown, delighted grin, another kiss pressed to the then almost overly-red lips of the blond, "I love you," Neil repeated. Dave was his, and he was Dave's and that's all he wanted for him to know. He had to know. He wasn't to be shared-- no. That wasn't how Neil did things.

Dave was Neil's. 

Hands let go of the other and Neil tried to relax, his cock aching and his heart racing and his mind utterly scattered all over the place, lips parting to whine at Dave's absence-- no come back-- then settling into a pout that he didn't know that he could really muster (honestly, too much time with Dave?) and with that, his leg was slung over Dave's hip and Neil leant upwards, ready to meet him, their lips once more sliding against one another's, propping himself up as well as he could on one elbow while sliding his free hand into Dave's hair, combing through the feathery strands--

His grip in Dave's hair changed abruptly upon feeling the blond's prodding fingers, Neil's lungs stopping, breath hitching. A "Fuck," was murmured and as Dave pushed further in, there was a sharp, desperate intake of breath. Neil wasn't a virgin, fuck that shit no, but hell, it had been a long time. "C-come on, then," he gulped thickly, "One finger ain't gonna do it," Neil finished, biting on his lip as his body moved, only slightly, to try and fuck himself on that one finger-- "Just--" he kissed the blond again, pulling away for a moment and muttering "I love you, you fucking fuckass." 

[captaindnvrs]

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Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop - Landon Pigg

No one understands me quite like you do Through all of the shadowy corners of me

[alliterationandalcohol]

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[neilbeforethestagemanager]

You only know what I want you to I know everything you don't want me to Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine You think your dreams are the same as mine Oh I don't love you but I always will Oh I don't love you but I always will Oh I don't love you but I always will I always will

[rahulkohli]

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

you saved me when no one else could. 

[faithbreaker]

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

meredifstepien:

Night World Dream Cast (★) Alexandra Daddario as Rashel Jordan

Skilled vampire hunter known as The Cat, John Quinn’s soul-mate.

“A tall girl dressed like a ninja, all in black, with black hair falling loose around her shoulders and green eyes blazing.”

[dontcallmedavey]

You are the Only Thing that Makes Sense || Dave & Neil

[dontcallmedavey]

Dave knew that teasing Neil was going to be fun—Neil had a very low bullshit tolerance when he was especially focused on or when he wanted something. And the great thing about Neil was, that he was terribly impatient. Dave’s hands slowly started to guide the elastic of his boxers back up when a low growl reached his ears and damn, if he had ever heard a sexier noise in his life. He was forced back deeper into the mattress as Neil’s weight settled on top of him and his hands moved automatically- releasing the elastic moving to grip the warm skin of Neil’s waist. A very firm ‘No’ fell from slightly swollen lips and before Dave could so much as make a snarky remark on being a control freak, Neil was kissing him. The mouth against his moved hard, bruising his lips and causing a very appreciative chuckle from the back of his throat that quickly turned into a moan as Neil’s hand slipped down past his boxers, fingers ghosting along the base of his cock. His eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn’t keep from the automatic gesture of rolling his hips up—trying for more of that warm touch, God, please, please, please.

Neil had said his name several times before in all sorts of ways. But this—the way his name was literally moaned- had Dave restraining another moan of his own, his cock twitching at the sound. Neil moved and Dave felt the tug at the clothing and his hips lifted off the bed, allowing Neil to yank them down to his knees. Neil turn and moved and Dave quickly wriggled his legs, managing to get the boxers to his ankles before kicking them off before he was pulled to sitting, his breathing coming out in pants against Neil’s collarbone. His heart was pounding so fast and Neil was so warm and God, it had been so long since he had gotten laid and this was Neil—

‘Don’t. Be. A. Fuckass’ between kisses that left him wanting more, his hands moving to settle with one on his hip and the other moving to fist the dark hair, pulling Neil down to crush his lips against his. His mouth moved hungrily, his tongue moving against Neil’s fighting for domination before the kiss broke. ‘I’ll kill you.’ Neil moved- grinding his hips forward and Dave thought he might die from the perfect friction against his aching cock. The fingers on Neil’s hips tightened their grip, biting into the skin, his own moan mixing with Neil’s. Dave tore his lips from Neil, pressing hot, needy kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suckle, his breathing still coming out in the short huffs because everything was so perfect and when did it get so hot in that room? His lips pressed against the hollow of Neil’s jaw and he murmured huskily, “Neil… God, Neil, please…” His hand moved to snake between them, gripping Neil and stroking him slowly, thumb moving to rub across his slit, catching the pre-cum starting to gather there. 

[neilbeforethestagemanager]

'Neil... God, Neil, please...'

The words go straight to his cock, much like Dave's hand, callused and rough, surrounding his shaft, causing a strangled moan to slip through the lips that were already parted, his head having had tilted back, exposing more of his neck to the heated and hungry mouth that was Dave's, biting and nipping at the skin of his throat and shoulder, a chorus of moans that had been held back prior, all leaving Neil with Dave thumbed at the slit of his cock, his hips twitching forward and back, cheeks of his ass rubbing against Dave's cock, "I-I," he didn't know what he was planning to say, but the sounds came out choked either way, his breath caught in his throat, his arms wrapped around the man he was straddling, hands at his back, fingertips and blunt nails digging into the supple skin of his shoulders.

"Dave, f-fuck," he let out a small laugh, he couldn't believe this, he really couldn't. There he was, in a position that he never thought he would find himself with David Harris. Their lips locked again and his eyes closed, his hips rolling, fucking into his hand, Neil's mouth forming a small 'o' as he gasped, "Pl-please," he begged, pulling Dave's chest more against his, tugging him to the side and rolling to have the blond over him again, hands rushing, one cupping his face, the other fisting his hair, kissing him almost violently again, "Please, fuck, Dave, please," he said, leaving opened mouth kisses down the slightly tanned column of the blond's throat, groaning against the skin as he ground upwards, "Please," he said again, more desperate than before, eyes fluttering shut and face strewn with pleasure-- "Either we do this now," he began, regaining some composure, "or I will lop off s-something," The hand in Dave's hair slithered down and moved, cupping the back of Dave's neck, bringing him down, pulling his body down with a leg that curled around him (somewhat awkwardly, Neil wasn't exactly graceful-- yet,) hips pushing against hips in an almost distraught fashion, limbs tangling with each other's, I love yous coming from Neil's lips endlessly spilt between the kisses.