ArchivedLogs:Doug Is Not A Robot

Doug Is Not A Robot
Warning: Contains Adult Themes And Bad Jokes
Dramatis Personae Doug, Eric
In Absentia	2013-04-18 Eric has confirmed it: Doug is not a Cylon.
Location <NYC> 503 {Doug} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is, for the most part, laid out like most of the others in the building. A small entryway opens up into a living area occupied by a worn-looking leather sofa covered in a multi-colored afghan. In front of that, a low cost-effective coffee table is generallly littered with tech and gaming magazines, post-it flags stuck to various pages. The kitchen is separated from the living area by a bar-island with two high stools. Down a small hallway, two doors stand face to face, vigilant in keeping the bedrooms beyond secure, while a third, facing the living room, leads to the bathroom. Throughout the apartment, various gaming posters have been framed and hung carefully, most of them classic arcade titles. The evening is winding into night, and in Doug's apartment, that means quiet. Or, it usually does. Tonight, the teenager has decided that company would be in order, and after sending a text to a certain dark-haired hottie, he's spent the time since cleaning the apartment. At least, he's straightened it up. There is no evidence of schoolwork or anything remotely computer-related, and there is a new throw on the couch -- a tapestry with all four Hogwarts House emblems on it. (It's still a geek apartment, after all.) Doug himself is just exiting his bedroom; his damp hair indicating that the apartment isn't the only thing that's gotten a good going-over. He's dressed in blue compression shorts and a white tank top, and he heads for the kitchen, scrubbing at his hair with the towel draped around his neck. On the iPod dock, Daft Punk's 'Discovery' album may not be /romantic/ music, but then, it's not a romantic sort of occasion. It is good it is not meant as a romantic occasion, because a police uniform - a tighter bike cops uniform, admittedly - is not exactly date dress material. His knuckles rap on the door and he takes a step back, looking at the peephole. His arms cross over his ship and he looks up into the glass with a rakish grin, one hand coming up and running through his hair to leave it perfectly mussed. Doug looks up with a smile when the knock comes, and he tosses his towel on the counter as he heads for the door. A quick glance through the peephole has him smiling as he unlocks the deadbolts and swings the door open. "Good evening, officer," he says playfully, leaning against the door and raking his eyes over the tight spandex-like uniform. "Is there something I can do for you?" He's already drifting back into the apartment, though, his smile inviting as he swings the door open further. "I hope I'm not being too loud." A beat. "Yet." "Not yet." Eric drawls, eyes flicking up and down the man lasciviously. He smirks as he pushes into the apartment, intentionally using up more space in the door than is necessary as he brushes bodily against the younger man. "I think there are probably several things you can do for me. Most of them involve a lot less clothing than you're wearing right now, though." he says, a smirk playing on his lips. Doug leans in as Eric enters the apartment, letting himself sink into the heat of the older man. "Good," he says, pushing the door closed as he hooks fingers in the waistband of Eric's shorts to hold him in place as he ensures the locks are done up. Then he's sliding around the cop sinuously, sliding under his arm and pushing up to press a hungry kiss against his lips. "You want a drink or something?" he asks, when their lips separate. A smile plays about his lips. "It's important to stay hydrated." His eyes crinkle. "When you ride." Eric smirks as the other man approaches, and when Doug's hands come to his hips, his own run up and down the other man's back. His fingers run down Doug's spine to squeeze at his butt, kneading it in his hands. His return of the kiss is hard, passionate, hungry. When the kiss breaks, he gives a little shrug and his eyes twinkle. "I think you might be doing the riding... and I just know what you can hydrate yourself with." "Promises, promises," Doug murmurs, tugging at Eric's hips and beginning to walk him further into the apartment. His fingers slide a bit deeper, grazing the ridge of Eric's hip-bones. "I suppose I should make a joke about getting wet," he murmurs, his smile a smoky spectre as his fingers quest further. "But, frankly, there's this hot cop with too many clothes on that's distracting me." Then there's another kiss, and daylight couldn't get between the two men, as hard as the blonde presses against the other man. Eric grins and presses hard against Doug, muscles rippling as he pulls the other man against his tight clothing. His tongue runs along Doug's bottom lip, and he squeezes the other man, hard, as he steps forward to push Doug into the counter opposite, hips pressing against hips, chest against chest. When his back is pressed into the counter, Doug makes a grunt of surprise into Eric's mouth, grinning against his lips. "This must be your favorite place in my apartment," he murmurs, catching the older man's bottom lip between his teeth. His arms slide up, around Eric's neck, and he tightens them there as he lifts his legs, sliding them up to lock his heels around powerful thighs. "I want to do that shower thing we talked about, too." "I do like the height," Eric replies, pressing forward and almost shoving Doug up onto the countertop. His smile widens as he wraps strong arms around the younger man's back, spinning him away from the counter and carrying him down the hallway towards the shower. He nips at Doug's jawline as he steps, grinning. "Shower thing first, then. I smell like bike cop." Doug's eyes light up as he's picked up, his breath catching. "Mmm. I like the smell of bike cop," he murmurs. But he makes no move to stop Eric as they move down the hall. A few hours later, the iPod has shifted through two albums and is well into a third (Brian Eno's 'Music for Airports'), and Doug's living room is less straightened-looking, with two naked bodies sprawled on the couch. The Hogwarts throw is pulled around Doug haphazardly as he lies on top of Eric, the fingers of one hand sliding idly along the older man's bicep. There's a smile on the blonde's face, and he shifts a bit as if to snuggle deeper. "That was awesome," he offers in a thick, content voice. "Seriously." Eric smiles at Doug, one arm folding easily around the other man's body. His hand runs up and down his side, idly, as he looks up at the ceiling. "Mmmm." he murmurs, satedly. "That was nice." he drawls, and his words are in a thicker accent than ever. The afterglow is not good for making him sound like a native. "/Man/, I really like that countertop." Doug laughs, rubbing his cheek along the swell of Eric's chest. "I get a hard-on every time I have a sandwich," he admits. "And this urge to give you a call. Funny, that." He chuckles, and rolls his spine. "I should eat more sandwiches," he teases. "Only I'd hate to get popped for wasting such a valuable city resource." He slides along the length of Eric's side; no heat in this move -- just a comfortable relaxation. "Or would they say 'over-utilizing'?" Eric chuckles, and the sound turns into a laugh. "I feel like there's a salami joke in there somewhere, but I'm afraid between the riding and the /riding/," This second part is said with a little rise of his hips, a trace of hungry heat flashing in his expression. "I've not got the mental powers to come up with it. So... dick. Salami. Fill in your own joke." he drawls, tugging Doug a little closer to him. Doug groans, although it's amused-sounding. "Oh, man. That would have been /terrible/," he teases. "I would have had to object on general grounds of Pun Overload." He cranes his chin to waggle his eyebrows at the cop. "And then some." That comes with a little hip-wiggle. There's a long moment of comfortable silence before Doug speaks again. "I owe you an apology," he says. "For the other night. That wasn't fair, to put you in that awkward spot." The hip-waggle distracts Eric's attention, and his hands roam rather more freely over Doug's back. But the conversation pulls his attention back in, and he looks down at Doug. "Eh. Don't worry about it. Water under the bridge, and all that. If I's offended, I wouldn'ta come over here in the first place, you know? I've got better things to do." Doug snorts softly. "Well, doesn't that make a fellow feel special," he quips, slapping a palm against Eric's ribs. "Charmer." He shrugs, which is probably equally distracting, given the way he's draped over the older man. "Still. I had to apologize." He frowns thoughtfully. "I'm not a robot." Indeed, distracting it is. Distracting enough that Eric leans forward and gives a gentle nip to the edge of Doug's throat before he lets his head settle back against the couch. "I'd hope not. I don't really swing that way," he drawls, playfully. "And you seemed quite human to me. Inside and out." A wink. Doug hums with pleasure when teeth find his throat, and he smiles as he cranes his head back to allow as much nipping as is desired. When Eric's head settles back, he drops his own back to the man's chest. "Sex with a robot /would/ be sort of difficult," he muses. "Unless they were designed for that. Still." He shivers, and pulls the throw around them a bit more securely. Eric's assurance gets a wider smile. "You want to take another tour?" he offers in a smoky sort of voice. "We can order take-out or something for after." Ah, teenagers. "Even if they were designed for it... just wouldn't be the same, you know? Half the fun is the other person. If it's just some /thing/ that has to enjoy it..." Eric shakes his head. And though he is no teenager, but he lights up at this suggestion. "God, yes," he growls, squeezing Doug tighter to his chest as he rolls over on top of the other man and fixes lips and teeth to the edge of Doug's throat. "Oh it would enjoy it," Doug says, with a grin. Then there's a quiet sort of squeak as he's flipped on to his back that fades into another pleased hum when teeth find his neck. Oh, yeah. He's no robot. He's all heated flesh and willing spirit, and he takes a very long time in proving that to Eric. Twice. Eventually, they'll get around to that take-out. It might be a breakfast order, though.