As their kiss intensified, John could feel Dave's hardness through his pants. He thrust his hips up, bumping against Dave's erection, offering himself even as their tongues wrestled for supremacy in Dave's mouth. But John needed to have Dave inside of him. All of Dave inside of him. He slowly pulled his tongue back into his own mouth, luring Dave's as it went.
Dave followed Carter's tongue. It seemed that, like Carter's cock, was something he couldn't get enough of. Carter tasted of cinnamon and sweetness. It seemed to be a very Carter flavour. Dave put his elbows above Carter's shoulders to bear his weight more easily and so this kiss could last just as long as possible.
Once Dave's tongue was in his mouth, John tightened his lips around it, trapping it even as he began to suck hungrily upon it. He knew that sooner or later they'd have to come up for air and he wanted Dave to know just how much he wanted him before that had to happen. And so he sucked on it, and pressed against it with his own tongue, reminding Dave of what he could do to another part of Dave's body with his tongue if Dave just said the word. He would gladly suck Dave off and return the pleasure Dave had just given him. But he'd much prefer having Dave's cock buried deep inside. As deeply inside of him as he was now sucking Dave's tongue.
Dave saw spots forming in front of his eyes. He needed air. But he needed to be touching Carter even more. His cock was aching for contact. It seemed totally unfair that in order for that to happen this had to stop. Totally unfair.
John slowly pulled off of Dave's tongue and they both gasped for much needed air and John suddenly decided that he wouldn't be happy just sucking Dave off. "Fuck me," he begged. "I need you so far in me that you'll never find your way out."
Dave pulled his legs together on top of Carter -- then began to slowly wiggle down him -- waiting expectantly for the legs to part for him. He needed this, needed it badly. He couldn't have stopped the kiss, but now it was over the only place to be was up Carter's ass.
As Dave moved down his body John spread his legs as wide as he could. The feel of Dave's sweater made John's skin tingle as it first drew across his now tender nipples and then over his chest and little sparks of pleasure danced before John's eyes.
When Dave reached his destination he abruptly realised there was a problem. His pants. His thick, bulky pants. He quickly rose up onto his knees and with a minimum of fumbling pushed them far enough down. His released cock sprang outwards from its confinement -- eager to be buried somewhere even tighter. But ..."Lube...?"
"Don't need it," John said, his eyes glued to Dave's magnificent cock. He reached down and grasped it tightly, admiring it. Then he realized that with his pants only half down, Dave was going to be limited with his movements. And there were some things they hadn't tried yet. With his free hand John reached behind his head and pulled out the pillow, tossing it to Dave. "Put it under my hips," John instructed as he raised his hips in the air. "Then fuck me. Claim me as yours all over again, Dave."
Dave didn't want to hurt Carter again. He could still remember that first morning. But being surrounded by Carter in as few seconds as possible mattered. Mattered a lot. "You sure?" he muttered as he manoeuvered the pillow under the hips.
John nodded as he settled his hips on the pillow. To not be sure would mean that Dave would leave the bed to look for the lube and he had no idea where they had left it the night before. It was more important to keep Dave on the bed. "I can take you, Dave."
A shadow of doubt lingered in Dave's mind. But Carter was the one who knew how this worked. All the same he didn't want to hurt Carter again. He didn't. He reached down and found some of Carter's come -- it was on his sweater and Carter's belly. He used it to coat his hard dick, and then used some to lubricate Carter himself. Carter was amazingly relaxed -- one finger went in without a hitch and two were barely more difficult -- maybe Carter'd been right about not needing this at all. Dave positioned his cock head outside Carter's entrance. "You are about to be royally fucked, my friend."
Even though he was sure he was ready for Dave, John couldn't help but heave an inward sigh of relief as he watched Dave lubricate himself -- and with John's come, no less. That very fact sent a shiver up John's spine. And when those fingers slipped so easily inside of him, John moaned. Then he grinned at Dave's observation. "So now you've gone from being 'Caveman Dave' to 'King Dave', have you? Yes, I'm ready for a royal fuck. Are you?"
Dave's answer was to push himself inside Carter. He tried to take it slowly -- but he'd been needing and wanting this since he woke up that morning, and that was a very long time ago, and Carter was warm and damp and soft and firm and...Carter.
John drew in a sharp breath as Dave's large cock-head broached him. He had known it would hurt a little bit, but he didn't care. Not as long as the end result was that Dave was inside him. Stretching him and reshaping his guts so that only Dave's cock would ever fit there. There was a slight burning sensation as John thrust his hips to impale himself upon that beautiful cock. John looked up at Dave's face, wordlessly seeking out his eyes and giving him the okay to thrust.
Dave grinned down at Carter. "Who owns you?" He pushed himself slowly inside, and repeated the question. "Who owns you?"
"You own me," John replied.
"Who owns your ass? And your cock? And your chest? And your nipples and your mouth and your tongue?"
Dave's cock was causing fireworks to go off in John's brain. "God, you do. You know you do. No other man will ever touch me."
Dave withdrew and began another thrust. "Who owns every breath you breathe, and every thought you think?"
"You do," John answered as his hips moved in sync with Dave.
Dave's control wore thin. "You're mine." Out, then in again. "Mine. Mine. Mine."
A strangled 'yes' came from John's throat as the force of Dave's thrusts took his breath away. "Fuck me, own me. Harder, Dave."
Carter's body was white underneath Dave's. He moved harder and faster, seeing Carter as a snowflake that he had to melt through friction alone. A huge, soft, firm, warm, cold, white, flushed entity that he caught and owned for a millisecond before it decomposed. Beautiful and unobtainable and desirable. And harder and faster and harder and faster.
John began to wildly buck his hips, his one intention to make Dave come. To have Dave flood his belly with his come. To own him.
Dave flushed. And his eyes went red. And he came and came and came. And collapsed down on Carter's chest.
As Dave's body stiffened, John wrapped his legs his legs around Dave's back, locking his ankles and trapping him. "And now you're all mine," John whispered as he ran his fingers through Dave's hair. "All mine."
*******************************************
Dave looked at his watch. 10 past. The game started in 25 minutes. The game that would see the Giants, the New York Giants, win the Super Bowl. It would be a good game. A great game. A fantastic game. It was a game he had no intention of missing. So...he looked around everyone at else at the admit desk, "I'm going for a burger from Docs -- anyone else want something?"
"Don't spend all your cash, Dave," John said, grinning. "I'm expecting my hundred bucks at the end of the game. But, yeah, a cheeseburger and chocolate shake would be great." John reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill.
Dave grinned, and took the money. "In your dreams, my friend. The Giants are going to stomp on those puny seagulls -- just you wait." He smiled at Carter, then abruptly twisted around to look at the others -- he couldn't smile too much, that would be suspicious. "Anyone else? Jerry? Chuny?"
John just laughed back, watching as Dave collected orders and money from the others. "We'll see who's dreaming, Dave, when the game ends and the Ravens have beaten the puny munchkins into the ground."
"Huh." Dave turned to face Carter. "You're only supporting the sparrows because the Giants are MY team." And with that he left the area and trotted over the road.
Docs was nearly empty, but Dave was sure that every sports bar that had a decent TV would be packed. He gave the order to the waitress and looked around impatiently. "You need a TV in here." He was missing the pre-game show. It wasn't as important as the game itself -- and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he'd be lucky if he got to see even a third of the game while he was on shift, but the video in his apartment was recording it for posterity, and..."You *really* need a TV in here."
After Dave left, John went back to the chart review he had been doing. So far it was slow, but that was because the game hadn't started. People hadn't drunk enough beer yet to get rowdy. Hadn't gotten angry at the officials' calls in the game. And the game wasn't over, so there were no fights yet over the outcome. And there'd be no fights when he collected his bet from Dave -- or when Dave collected his bet from him. John was very glad he was seated so that no one could see the way his cock had sprung to life at the idea of winning OR losing the bet. As John tried to ignore his arousal, he found that time passed quickly because the next thing he knew, Dave was walking through the door.
"Just in time, Dr. Dave," Jerry said. "The game is about to start. Where's Malik? Did anyone see where he disappeared to? He's got money riding on this game, too."
Dave grunted as he distributed the food. "He knows where the TV is." Dave grabbed himself a wheelchair so he could watch in comfort. He glanced over at Carter then quickly looked away -- he wanted to see the look on Carter's face when he realised that really, really, good things could come from New York. It seemed very important. But his cheeseburger was also important, and he bit into the satisfyingly thick food and listened intently to the tinny commentary coming from the small TV.
John pushed the charts aside, then unwrapped his cheeseburger. From where he was seated, he could be comfortable *and* be able to see everyone. Which made it easy to watch Dave watch the game. And it made it easy to watch Dave eat, too. Of course, he and Dave were taking up two of the ER's wheelchairs, but it wasn't their fault that the wheelchairs were the most comfortable places to sit. At least they were for John. He grinned as the teams lined up for the coin toss and heard Dave cheering the Giants on already.
Dave was willing the coin to come down in the Giants favour when there was a cold draught behind him. He turned and looked, and was on his feet in a second. A man had come in carrying a small girl who was bleeding everywhere. "Get a gurney." Even as Dave spoke one was there.
John was on his feet in an instant, grabbing a gown and hurrying behind Dave and the gurney into the trauma room. "Someone find Cleo," John called out, "and get x-ray in here." He looked up at the man. "You her father?"
"Yes," the man replied, his voice trembling. "I've told her and told her not to run in the dining room. My wife's mother died and she inherited all her china and the old cabinet that it was kept in. Junk if you ask me, not very stable. But my wife wouldn't hear of getting rid of it because it was her mother's. So, I told the kids to stay away from it, but Janie here, she kept running in there. And I was watching the pre-game show and my wife's at work, and I heard Janie carrying on. I had just called out, kinda automatically like, you know, 'Janie, quit that damn running', and then I hear this crash and I rush in there and she's covered with glass and wood and that damn china. All I could think to do was to get her here. We live just a few blocks away and I figured it would be quicker."
"Okay." John nodded. "She's here now and we can treat her. But we need you to wait in chairs, okay? You can call your wife from there." He hoped like Hell that the girl hadn't injured her spine when the china cabinet landed on her. With her father moving her like that...well, it wasn't a good thought.
"Okay, collar, and..." Dave rolled into the familiar routine of a trauma. It didn't seem to be as exciting as it had initially. As Janie was cleaned up it became apparent that most of the cuts were superficial -- something any med student would be able to handle.
John stepped back when Cleo came in, later followed by Peter Benton. Benton was colder than usual and John took that as a sign that he was not yet back into the mans good graces. He took off his gloves and gown, looking back once to see Dave still standing there, helping out. They all had it covered. All Janie needed were stitches, but John couldn't give her anything for the pain, so he was rather useless to Janie unless he had someone else administer the shot. With a sigh, John returned to the admit area. The least he could do was give Janie's father an update, he thought. The man had been so worried.
At least that's what John had thought until he got out there and saw the man standing in front of the desk, his eyes glued to the television and the game. It was just a stupid football game and the man couldn't stay away from it long enough to be worried about his own child. John shook his head in disgust, then decided to just ignore the man. He grabbed his food and went into the lounge to sit at the table in there.
Dave wanted to know the score. He wanted to know IF there was a score. He was good at stitching. Hell, he was great at stitching. Janie would be left with something between little and no scars when he was done with her. But he wanted to know the score. He wanted to know the Giants were winning. And somehow he'd been left here with a groggy grade-schooler on Super Bowl Sunday when HIS team was playing. Sometimes life sucked.
John glanced at the lounge TV set from time to time, but the game didn't really register with him. There had been a score, but he wasn't sure which team had made the touchdown. And some to-do over a call one of the officials made that cost the Giants a touchdown. So, when John was finished eating, he stood in front of the TV long enough to figure out the score. Once he saw it, he grinned, then went to find Dave, who had been left the task of stitching up little Janie, or so Chuny said.
"What? You're still in here?" John asked, grinning as he stepped into the suture room. No need for Janie to take up space in the trauma room, he supposed. He looked over Janie's stitches. "Nice job. Guess you weren't joking around when you said plastics wanted you."
"Sure wasn't." Dave grunted as he put the last stitches in. "And I am done here." He grinned at the kid then up at Carter. "Time to see the Giants creaming the sparrows."
"Daddy says it's the *Ravens* playing the Giants."
"Your daddy thinks the birds are scarier than they really are."
"Daddy says they're going to win."
"Your daddy is wr..." Dave just managed to restrain himself.
John laughed. "Her daddy is very much right. The Ravens are winning right now, seven to zip. Zero, Dave. The New York Giants are nothing but a big, fat zero." John said.
"See," Janie stuck out her tongue at Dave. "I tol' ya."
Dave made a face at Janie. "Want stitches in your tongue too?" And began to chase her outside to where her father waited. He was sure Carter had lied, was just trying to rile him. The Giants were THE team, they couldn't lose.
Still grinning, John followed Dave to the admit area, where Janie's father was blithely assuring her that, yes, the Ravens were winning. John walked up behind Dave. "I tol' ya," he whispered to him.
Dave made a face at Carter. Then went to stand close to the TV and check the action out for himself. He recieved a roll of bandages in the back of his head for his pains.
"Get down."
Dave turned and looked at Malik who'd thrown them. "What's the score?"
"Seven nil to the Ravens."
It didn't sound any better when Malik said it. No better at all. Dave looked round and rescued his half-eaten burger and took a bite to comfort himself. "They'll win. Just you wait."
"Dr. Dave is right," Jerry said. "The Giants would have had a score but the ref cheated 'em out of it. They had it man, but got caught on a technical penalty."
"They were holding, man," Malik said. "The replay showed it plain as day, so quit your griping."
"Hope you have your hundred bucks, Malucci," John said as he used his foot to push a wheelchair in Dave's direction. "Cause I am collecting it the second they declare the Ravens the winners."
"The sparrows are NOT going to win." Dave turned his attention to Jerry. Sometimes the big guy really knew what was happening. "What? What happened?" So what if he was able to figure it out from the comments, he needed to know for *sure*. "The ref cheated?"
"The ref didn't cheat. The Giants were holding, plain as day and one of them caught a pass, intercepted it for a TD, but it was called back," Malik said.
Jerry shrugged. "It didn't look like holding to me."
"Yeah, and that's why you're an NFL ref instead of a desk clerk, right?" Malik teased.
"Just learn to live with it, Dave," John said. "The Ravens are going to beat the Giants into the ground. The Giants can't handle the pressure. They're choking big time."
"Are not. Giants are a city team. Don't choke under pressure." Dave wanted to see a replay of the pass and touchdown. He needed to see it. "Cheating ref."
John laughed. "You didn't even see it. Just stick around until half time. I'm sure they'll replay it, just to show how poorly the Giants are playing."
"Are not." It was hard to defend a team that Dave hadn't really seen in action, but Dave had to do it. "Look at those sparrows. A bunch of wusses. GO Giants."
Chuckling, John looked over at Jerry. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so I'm going to go take a nap while it's quiet. What's open?"
"Hmm. Kovac's in Exam 1 taking a nap, so any of the others are open," Jerry replied. "But you can't take a nap. The Super Bowl is on. You'll miss it."
"That's okay. You all can wake me if a miracle happens -- like the Giants scoring." John called over his shoulder as he headed for Exam 2 and a little shut-eye. He really didn't care one way or the other about the game, and he had thought about pretending to be into it. But then he figured that it would bother Dave *more* if he showed he didn't care. And bothering Dave was far more important than letting Dave think he was really into the game. Truth was, he was a hardcore Chicago Bears fan and no other team mattered to him.
Dave looked at Carter in disbelief as he left -- then flipped his attention back to the TV screen. Carter couldn't just not watch the game. He couldn't. It was the Giants' chance at glory. It was...."Carter come back here...." Carter couldn't have a hundred bucks and...and that other stuff...riding on a game he wasn't even going to watch.
"I'm tired, Dave. I have no stamina right now. I'm going to *need* stamina later," John said, not looking back.
Dave shut up and folded into a chair. He couldn't believe that Carter had just said *that* -- and in front of everyone. He glanced at the others but they didn't seem to have noticed. Shit. Maybe he was lucky then. But Carter shouldn't say things like that. He just shouldn't. Dave forced a bit of burger into his mouth so he couldn't need to say anything. It was stone cold, but better than talking.
John settled onto the bed and closed his eyes. But sleep eluded him. Every time he would get close to drifting off, he'd hear a loud cheer or heckle from the admit area, or else he'd have visions of Dave. Visions of Dave having his way with him, demanding full payment for the bet. Or visions of him having his way with Dave, demanding full payment for the bet. As tempting as it was to jerk off, John knew he couldn't. For one thing, it was exam 2. For another, the only hand that could do that to his cock happened to belong to Dave, and he was pretty sure that Dave wouldn't step away from the game just to make him come. Although the idea was a fun one to fantasize about, John thought.