Randominity

I have wanted to write porn ALL WEEK.

Title: Like This
Author: Randominity
Pairing: Daniel Radcliffe/Rupert Grint
Rating: R *self-flagellates*
Feedback: Pony rides to everyone who sends me some!
Disclaimer: As not real as a very, very not real thing.
Author's Notes: I have wanted to write porn ALL WEEK. This isn't really it. It's just, you know. whatever. It's late, okay?! But boring work days and [pictures of boyshoulders] have made this necessary. This has been un-betaed - nobody is responsible for this other than me. *sigh*
ETA: Profuse apologies to the lead singer of the Distillers and love of Dan Radcliffe's life, Brody Brodie Brody Dahl Dalle. Will I ever get it right? :)




So it's like this: you're fifteen and you've never fancied a bloke before. At least, not in the scary sexy way where your insides get all muddled up and you forget how to talk normally and you wank thinking about the things their mouth could do to you. But you've never felt that way about a girl, either, so you figure you might be okay.

Dan's eyes go a bit glazed when he talks about Brody Dalle, and he shows you pictures and after a while you think you might finally get it, about the lips; blowjobs are good, right. After Dan's exhausted the topic and gone back to the same picture a few times, he licks his lips for about the tenth time and tugs at his jeans a little. He says, "I should probably go," and laughs.

You smile and say, "yeah, you should take care of yourself." Later, alone in your room, you don't think you mean to picture Dan's lips, wet and nervously bitten, when you come.

Emma's got breasts now, and you've noticed but don't care, because she's a bit like your little sister. You think maybe Dan fancies her, because he has a way of giggling and poking and glancing at her when he thinks she's not looking, and it irritates you, mostly. It wasn't long ago that you were glad Ron and Hermione weren't supposed to be close, but this isn't much better. Now Dan and Emma have scenes without you and that's... fine, you guess. Now Emma plays with Dan's hair and Dan says, "Emma, it's fine the way it is," but doesn't sound like he means it.

You roll your eyes and invite Dan to your room to play golf, and somehow your offer doesn't seem as good.

~*~

So it's like this: Dan has this way of going quiet and intense when he's working on things, and between that and the giggling you're not sure which one makes you more uncomfortable. You build a golf course together, out of crazy bits and bobs and things in your room, and while you work he never says a word. You find yourself throwing out stupid statements, like, "um, so if you just..." and "that should, um, stay there," and once or twice you look up and Dan is watching you. "What," you say, and think is this stupid? Is this a stupid idea? because it was your idea, and he just went along. Dan's really nice that way.

He shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, and cuts the cardboard tubing in his hands with real purpose.

~*~

So it's like this: your problem is you can't keep a straight face when you need to, and Dan's problem is he doesn't always remember to breathe properly. "Rupert, seriously," Dan says to you, before you film Harry's breakdown scene at Hogsmeade. "If you start laughing when I'm trying to cry out there, I promise I'm going to hit you." None of this means anything when Dan's making sobbing noises under the green blanket and you snort air out through your nose, but later, when he's yelling and panting, his gaze flickers up for a moment and you're almost convinced he's angry with you. Dan's never been angry with you before, and you're not sure why the thought hurts quite as much as it does. The next take you're dead silent, and the one after that, and then Dan starts to keel over a bit and you're all done for the day.

"You're-- are you angry with me?" you ask him on the way back to the make-up trailer.

"No," he says, knocking your leg out from under you with a well-placed kick.

~*~

So it's like this: you start thinking you fancy Dan while you're still doing promo for Azkaban. By the time you start shooting for Goblet, you stop telling yourself you don't mean to see Dan's face in your head when you have one hand around your cock and the other fisted in your sheets. You're sixteen and you've never had a girlfriend, and this is your sex life.

"D'you still fancy that, uhm, Brody Dalle girl?" you ask Dan, picking carefully at the strings of his guitar. He still gives you care instructions every time you pick it up, even though he knows you play.

Dan shrugs. "I guess, I mean. She's really hot, don't get me wrong. But I dunno. Maybe she's not my type anymore." He watches your hands and scratches his own shoulder. "What about you?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, and when you try to think of a name, some girl you can agree isn't your type, you keep coming up on the mental image of Dan's wet, nervous mouth. "I'm, uh. I don't really."

"I've been spending loads of time with Emma, you know," Dan says, sliding down off his bed to kneel on the floor before you.

"Yeah," you say again. You watch your own hands. "I know." If Emma is Dan's type, you are going to break Dan's guitar over someone's head. Probably his.

"She, uh," Dan says. "She said something, and I've kind of been thinking."

"Right," you say, and Dan reaches out and takes the guitar away from you.

"Are you going to make me say it?" he asks. His hands on your knees are very warm.

~*~

So it's like this: Dan kisses you in your hotel room sometimes, and sometimes in his room instead. He kisses with his eyes squeezed shut and you like to watch the fine lines that bunch up at the corners. He giggles when you run your thumb along the side of his neck, and his sides are ticklish, too. Sometimes you both end up with your shirts off, Dan spread out on his bed and you over him, one hand on his belt like he hasn't given you permission yet.

"Rupert." He wriggles a bit beneath you. "D'you think you could," he breathes, "um." His hand is already in your trousers; he squeezes, and you drop your forehead to his shoulder. You thrust into his hand and he gasps into your hair.

It's always quick, as if every time you get into each other's pants it's a race to see who will get off first. "I'm always," Dan says, his hand tightening around you, "like, two seconds away from coming, all the time." You wonder how he can keep talking right up to the last moment, unless you're kissing him, so you kiss him until he comes, slick through the fingers you have pressed flat against his stomach.

~*~

So it's like this: you finally don't have to wonder about what Dan's mouth could do to you anymore.


the end.