| Donald Strachey Mysteries :
Well Suited
Well Suited
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1860
Prompts: Intimate evening at home. Or out at a party? Hmm....If it's out, then I'd love to see one or two of their friends. If it's in, then I'd love smut. :D Kink is cool. Either that, or sappy. (Yes, I'm a sick individual).
Summary: Any evening that ended with him and Timmy in the tub would always go in the win column.
Author's Notes: adafrog, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Special thanks to my beta who knows my brain better than I do.
Written for the Strachey story exchange over at nick_n_nora for the prompt by adafrog.
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Well Suited
by Maverick
Donald stripped as he walked up the stairs to their bedroom and flopped down on the bed in his underwear. “Sweetheart, I love that you want to volunteer at the Toys for Tots event each year, but next year, you have to get someone else to play Santa."
Timmy had collected the remnants of the Santa suit that Donald had left in his wake and was hanging them up in the closet when he answered. “I think not. You make much too cute of a Santa for me to ever consider someone else.”
Donald turned over so he was on his back and raised up on his elbows to meet Timmy’s eyes with his own. “Should I be concerned that you find old men in red suits cute?”
Timmy sat down on the bed beside Donald, leaning down to kiss him. “No, just you. The kids would be disappointed if it was someone else.”
Donald snorted. “I’m pretty sure as long as they still got their gifts, they wouldn’t even notice.”
Frowning slightly, Timmy placed a kiss on Donald’s temple and stood up. “You’d be surprised by how many kids come each year for you. Not Santa, but *you*. You make a difference Donald, even if you’re too cynical to see it.”
Donald grabbed Timmy’s hand in his and squeezed. “I try not too be.”
“I know you do. And that’s why I forgive you for it.” Timmy smiled, running his thumb along Donald’s palm. “How does a bath sound?”
Donald swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. He pulled Timmy into a hug. “Like heaven.”
“Good. You start the bath, I’ll go let Watson out and mix us some martinis.”
Donald nodded and headed to the bathroom.
If someone were to guess by looking at them, more than likely they would think that Timmy was the homebody in the relationship, what with the argyle sweater he put on every night when he got home, his chilled martini glasses at the ready in the freezer, and his overall skill in the kitchen. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Timmy liked to go out. He liked attending fundraisers, he liked to go out to dinner or to the theater with friends, or just to go grocery shopping.
Donald... well he liked to stay home.
While politics might not have been Timmy’s first choice in a career, his outward personality served him well. He was a people person. He could relate to most everyone and could defuse a potentially volatile situation with such ease that it sometimes made Donald envious. Timmy was always willing to at least try to see the good in even the worst of people. And Donald would never be able to do that.
Donald’s life and choices had made him a bit wary of everyone. He was a people person as well, just in a totally different way. He learned early in life that he possessed the ability to read people and see their motives in ways that others simply missed or overlooked by choice. It made him question everything and everyone around him. Well, everyone but Timmy.
Timothy Callahan had wormed his way into Donald’s life and heart even when Donald tried his best to keep him at a distance. From the moment they met, Timmy seemed too good to be true. No one could be that earnest and sincere. No one. Or at least that’s what Donald told himself right before he leaned in and kissed Timmy for the first time.
From that moment forward, he knew his life would never be the same. And more than six years later, he was happy about that. Sure, it meant that once a year, he ended up sweating up a storm in a fluffy red suit, but what he gained by having Timmy by his side was worth the aggravation. And he did like seeing the kids each year. It was just that an entire rec center full of them hopped up on sugar and Santa was almost more tiring than a tour of duty. But any evening that ended with him and Timmy in the tub would always go in the win column.
Lighting the last of the candles, Donald slid into the tub and turned off the water and waited for Timmy.
The warm water relaxed him so much, he had almost dozed off when he heard Timmy set the martini tray down on the vanity. He took both drinks from Timmy and watched appreciatively as Timmy slipped off his robe and stepped into the tub.
Timmy sat down facing Donald and took his drink back from him and sipped. Running his foot along Donald’s thigh, he smiled. “Mmmm, you added the sandalwood oil. I thought you didn’t like it?”
Donald took a sip of his own drink and set it down on the tub ledge. “Well you like it. And it’s not that I hate it or anything. It just makes getting out of the tub harder.” He put both hands under the water and stroked them along Timmy’s calves. “In case it’s escaped your notice, Mr. Callahan, I do like to make you happy.”
Setting down his own drink, Timmy took off and folded up his glasses, setting them on the tub’s ledge. He looked over at Donald with a smile that could only be described as wicked. “It’s never escaped my notice, honey. And I’m certainly not opposed to making you happy either.” Timmy slid his foot under Donald’s thigh to rub his arch in a circle across Donald’s groin making Donald both gasp and laugh at the same time.
“How ‘bout we make each other happy?” Donald asked as he pulled Timmy to him -- sloshing water over the side of the tub -- until Timmy’s legs were on either side of Donald’s torso plastering them together, chest to chest, groin to groin.
“I’m not opposed to a little quid pro quo,” Timmy said as he cupped Donald’s face in his hands and kissed him. He rubbed his cheek against Donald’s and nuzzled his jaw. “And while you are adorable as Santa, I think I prefer you like this, naked and wet against me.”
“Glad to hear it.” Donald stuck his hand between them, grasping both their cocks. He ran his thumb across the head of Timmy’s cock just to hear him moan in the way that always left Donald a little undone. “You’re right, there is something to be said about adding oil to the water. Everything’s so much slicker.” He twisted his hand around their shafts and leaned in to capture Timmy’s lips with his own.
Timmy opened to the kiss, sliding his tongue along Donald’s as he canted his hips into Donald’s waiting hand. “I do have good ideas on occasion.” He put his own hand under the water and linked his fingers with Donald’s, so they could work in tangent.
As much as Donald wanted to make it last, to slowly build with each touch and kiss toward the kind of orgasm that made his toes curl and his head hit the porcelain, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He brought his free hand up to hold the back of Timmy's head as the thumb of his other hand pressed just below the head of Timmy's cock.
Timmy gasped against Donald's mouth and his hips jerked as he came, his fingers tightening around Donald's erection. All it took was Timmy leaning in to bite the soft skin behind Donald's ear -- years of practice making him an expert on all of Donald's triggers -- to bring Donald over the edge as well. Donald wrapped his arms around Timmy, content to just bask for a few minutes. "Mmm, I would have to say that was a mission very much accomplished," Donald said, running his fingers through the back of Timmy's hair. "But I think we're going to have to take this to our nice, warm, *dry* bed. If I stay in here much longer, I'm going to be resembling a wrinkly old man, minus the red suit."
Timmy laughed. "Lead the way darling." He scooted back so that Donald could stand up, only to watch as Donald lost his footing, slipping back down into the tub, more water sloshing over the side.
"That's why I don't like oil," Donald said with a smile as he pulled Timmy back down into the water as well.
Timmy steadied them as they both rose to their feet. "And here you were singing its praises just minutes ago."
Donald laughed as he stepped out into the puddle on the floor. "It has its benefits, I'll give you that. I just don't want to have to ask Santa for a new hip anytime soon."
Grabbing a towel, Timmy wrapped it around both of them. "I'll catch you if you fall."
Donald couldn't help but kiss him for that. "Why don't you bring the martinis into the bedroom and I'll clean up this mess and join you in a few."
Nodding, Timmy reached over and dried off his glasses and put them back on his face. "You sure you don't want any help?"
Donald shook his head. "Having you waiting for me in bed is all the help I'll ever need."
Timmy picked up the martini glasses and smiled, this time more mischievous than wicked. "I'll have to remember that the next time the house needs vacuuming."
"I'm easy. What can I say?" Donald said, grabbing some extra towels to sop up the mess as he watched Timmy walk into the bedroom. "Of course, you've seen the way I vacuum."
Donald could hear Timmy's laughter from the other room.
After toweling dry the puddle on the bathroom floor, Donald settled into bed next to Timmy. He curled tight along Timmy’s side and rubbed his hand across Timmy’s chest. “It seemed like Marcus grew a foot since last year.”
Timmy nodded in agreement. “Director Burns says that he’s really flourished in the new foster home. He’s getting straight A’s in school.”
“He always was a bright kid, even if he did try to steal your wallet.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s a better student than a pickpocket. I’m sure being caught by Santa helped him make the right choices. He’ll be too old to take part in the exchange next year but the Director said he’s already asked about volunteering.”
Donald smiled against Timmy’s chest. It would be great to still have Marcus be a part of the celebration. “I’ll be Santa again next year.”
“I know you will. You do realize we have this conversation every year?”
“How did I let myself get roped into this in the first place?”
Timmy pulled Donald’s head to his chest, kissing the top of it. “I do believe it was one of my extra special blowjobs. That and you already had a Santa suit.”
“You take down one bad Salvation Army Santa and you’re doomed for life.”
“Blessed, my darling Donald. Blessed for life.”
And as usual, warm and content in Timmy’s arms, Donald really couldn’t argue with that.
—FIN—
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