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And you feel like falling down (I’ll carry you home)

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In all the time Scott and Alex have been working together, Scott has never once knocked on Alex’s trailer door before entering. And Alex has never once made a remark about it. So this day is no different, when Scott barges in, only to find Alex quickly wiping away tears from his cheeks. 

“Alex?” Scott asks, carefully stepping into the trailer. 

“Hey, man.” Alex shoots Scott a smile, before turning away and sniffling. Scott can still see him press the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We starting the scene early?” 

“No,” Scott says, warily. “It’ll be ten more minutes. Something about the lighting.” 

“Good.” Alex nods, distinctly avoiding eye contact with Scott. 

“You okay, man?” Scott asks, resisting the urge to reach out. 

Alex huffs a laugh. "Yeah, you know. Just getting in the zone." But his face falls right after and he grabs up a bottle of water off the table and busies himself with it.

"Yeah. Well, it's a tough scene, so." Scott steps forward, resting his hand on the table rather than where he really wants it. "You sure you're okay?"

Alex turns and collapses onto the sofa. He leans his head back and finally looks up at Scotty. "I'm nowhere near the hardass McGarrett is. All I have to do is  think  about getting punched in the face and the waterworks start up." His smile after looks nearly genuine.

Just nearly.

Scott takes in Alex's red-rimmed eyes, the way his ridiculous lashes clump together slightly, the drops of wetness lingering on his cheeks. And Scott would bet his favorite surfboard it's way more than that.

He settles into the couch next to Alex, their knees touching. "Steve would be smiling ear to ear and planning his next move." Then he nudges his co-star with an elbow and rests his head against the back of the couch as well, eyes locked on the steady tick of Alex's clenched jaw.

“I got punched in the face a few times in my life,” Scott says after a few moments of silence, and it really isn’t what he wants to say but he’s not quite sure how to get Alex talking. 

“Yeah?” Alex asks, a weak smile briefly directed at Scott. 

“I might’ve had it coming,” Scott goes on. 

Alex’s answer is a small hum. 

“Hey…” Scott says, pressing his knee against Alex’s leg until Alex looks at him. “You know you can talk to me, right?” 

Alex raises his head off the backrest and looks down at his lap.

Scott's gaze follows; his co-star has managed to make a right mess of the label on his water bottle. Shreds of paper litter the expanse of McGarrett's black cargo pants.

"Some days..." Alex wipes a hand across his cheek, stares at his fingers when they come away wet. "Some days, it's just not hard to..." He trails off and shifts forward on the couch, elbows on his knees. Pulling away.

Scott can't take it anymore. He reaches out and rests his hand on Alex's shoulder, squeezes lightly. "Hey, what is it?" He feels him stiffen for just a moment before the muscles under his hand relax and still, but Alex stays silent. "I mean, is this just you getting ready for a tough scene? Or something more? You're worrying me here, man."

Alex shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. Scott can feel his back trembling beneath his palm. And then he's shuddering, near sobbing, "I just miss him, man."

And Scott  knows , but it's like his mouth doesn't consult his brain, doesn't receive the transmission soon enough to not verbalize, "Who?"

Alex's reply is muffled through his hands, but Scotty gets it anyway. Gets confirmation of what he already knew. "My boy." Alex's voice breaks and Scott's heart gives a twang in his chest. "My son."

The words barely leave Alex’s mouth and Scott is already turning towards him and before he full and well realizes it, his arms are wrapped around Alex’s body and he’s pulling him close. 

“Shit, man…” Scott whispers, ‘cause what is he to say, really? He has no idea. No idea how Alex feels, or how to make it better. He just knows that Alex is hurting, and Scott discovers that by extension, he’s hurting too. 

“Sorry…” Alex says, the words muffled by Scott’s shoulder. 

He’s stiff inside Scott’s embrace, tries to pull away slightly. But Scott just holds on even tighter and says, “Shut up, you,” and Alex finally relaxes a bit and snakes his arms around Scott’s waist. 

He's not sure how long they're sitting like that, wrapped up in each other - Scott can't keep his hands still though, not when his friend can use the comfort that gentle strokes up and down his back can bring. And the way Alex is burying his head in his neck, shaking a little and sniffling every now and then; well, there's no where else Scott can imagine wanting to be right now.

All too soon, though, there's a knock at the trailer door and a voice carrying through. "Mr. O'Loughlin, they're ready for you on set."

Alex pulls back, rubs the back of his hand under his nose, murmuring, "No matter how many times I tell them it's 'Alex'...," then raising his voice louder, "Okay, be right there." And then he looks up and Scott can't help it, his breath catches at the sight of Alex's red eyes, still leaking and full of...  something . God, Scott is usually better at this kind of stuff - friends in need, high drama, et cetera, but he's just never seen Alex looking this...  vulnerable  before.

Scott's hand is still on his back, high between his shoulder blades. He swallows. "Are you sure you can do this?" And as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he wants to pull them back. "I don't-"

Alex stands, paper detritus fluttering to the floor like so much fallen snow. He wipes his face one more time and straightens his shirt. Then with a strained smile, "It's okay, Scotty. I'm a professional." And with that, his hand is on the latch and he's opened the door and stepped out into the warm night air.

Scott drops his head in his hands. "Fuck." And then he's up and following. But he vows, "This is not the end of this, O'Loughlin. Not by a long shot."

---

Scott watches Alex do the scene, over and over again. It’s being filmed from all angles, and there are close-ups, and Scott is sure Alex’s red eyes will be captured for all eternity. It fits the scene though, and Scott thinks that maybe this is part of Alex’s brilliance. 

Scott however – too mesmerized by his co-star – fucks up the scene for the second time now. 

“Sorry, sorry…” he mutters, trying to shake his head clear of the distractions. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder and Alex is leaning in and whispering, “Everything okay?” and Scott can’t help but let out a snort. Because really? Alex is asking  him  this? 

“How can you…?” Scott starts, but now really isn’t the time nor the place, so he just shakes his head again and says determinedly, “I’m fine. Let’s do it again.” 

Alex just nods and stands on his mark again.

“Let’s do it,” Alex winks, but the smile that accompanies it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

---

In the confusion as they all break, finally done for the day, Scott can't deny that he's looking for his co-star. He spots Alex talking to Peter and then gets distracted by Grace for a few minutes and when he looks back, O'Loughlin is nowhere to be seen.

"Dammit," Scott mutters.

Grace reaches out and snags his wrist. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I gotta go though. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She smiles and turns her cheek as he leans in for a chaste kiss good night.

And then Scott's left wondering what to do. Check Alex's trailer for him again? Text him? Leave him the fuck alone? He's pretty damn sure Alex isn't really going to want to talk about this. He rubs a hand across his forehead as he heads for his own trailer to change.

There's nothing wrong with having a drink though, right?

Scott pulls out his phone and starts typing.

He clears the screen about five times before he opts for a simple  ‘Beers? My place?’  and puts the phone down. As he changes, he glances at the damn thing every other second, until it beeps and the screen lights up. 

‘I’m kinda tired.’ 

Scott sighs, but there’s a pull in his chest that just can’t let this go. So he types  ‘Your place it is then. I’ll bring the drinks’  and hits send before he can reconsider. There’s no other answer from Alex, so Scott thinks he’s in the clear, or at least he won’t get kicked out. 

He passes by a liquor store on the way and picks up beer and a bottle of Scotch (he figures they might need it) and he’s inexplicably nervous by the time he’s standing on Alex’s doorstep, about to ring the bell.

Alex beats him to it though. He opens the door and shows him in quietly, just a small smile as a greeting. 

“I’d say I was sorry to barge in when you’re tired…” Scott trails off as he puts the alcohol on the table. 

“But you’re really not,” Alex says, but there’s no anger in his voice. Just acceptance. 

“I thought you could do with the company.” Scott shrugs. 

A little hum and then Alex is pulling down two tumblers from the cabinet and bringing them around to the table.

Scotch it is, then.

Scott leaves the bottle and slides across the kitchen to put the six-packs in the fridge. When he turns around, Alex has the glasses between the fingers of one hand, the whisky in the other and motions to the patio door. "Lanai?"

"Sounds good." Scott waits for Alex to turn his back, then takes a deep breath and lets it out, running his hands through his hair before falling in behind him.

There's two loungers out on the deck, a table in between. O'Loughlin's outside living area is not a true lanai, more of a multi-level, tiered construction with railings; his home isn't beachside like Scott's own, but boasts magnificent views across the canopy of trees down into Maunalua Bay. There's a nice breeze blowing this evening and with Diamond Head to block the majority of lights from the city, the Southern stars are bright and plentiful.

Scott settles down onto one of the chairs, but Alex is still standing, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and measuring out a generous amount into each tumbler. They pick up their glasses at the same time and raise them.

Before they go any farther though, Scott speaks up. "What are we drinking to, babe?"

Alex raises an eyebrow and Scott can read his  'You invited yourself and brought the booze, fucker'  thoughts plain-as-day. But he rises to the occasion, if not the bait. "Water of life."

Scott nods and repeats the salutation, then they both drink, welcoming the burn.

Alex takes a few steps forward, his back half-turned as he looks into the distance. Scott watches him, rolling the tumbler between his palms. 

“So…” Scott says to break the silence, because he’s sure that Alex is deliberately looking anywhere but at Scott. 

There’s a small puff of air that escapes Alex’s mouth before he says, “Spit it out, Scotty.” 

Scott, however, doesn’t say a word until Alex finally sits down in the chair next to him. 

“Aren’t you here to… I don’t know… have some big talk with me?” Alex says, and there’s a hint of a smile. 

“Fuck you,” Scott answers, and he can’t help but smile too. “I’m just trying to be a friend, you know? Trying to let you know you can talk to me. That I’m here.” 

Alex takes another swig of the Scotch before muttering, “You’re always here, it seems.” 

If Scott didn’t know better, he’d take offence. But this is Alex, so he just says, “And I’ve never once heard you complain, O’Loughlin.” 

Alex simply nods, eyeing his glass. And Scott adds for good measure, “People would stand in line to be in my presence, you know.”

Alex snorts and shakes his head. "A little full of ourselves, aren't we?" And then he's pushed himself back into the chaise lounge and settled in comfortably: long legs stretched out and crossed, hands resting on his belly, still holding his tumbler between them with just a smidge of amber liquid left. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, inhaling deeply through his nose, exhaling a few seconds later through his mouth.

Classic.

And Scott is having real trouble tearing his eyes away from just how beautiful his friend is. There's still tension showing in his expressive face, but seeing him like this - stretched out, attempting to relax, outwardly projecting calm even when his insides must be--

"I called him earlier." Alex breaks the quiet of the moment.

Scott answers, "Oh yeah?" before snagging the bottle off the table. He refills his own glass, then stands and leans over to top off Alex's.

Alex opens his eyes when he hears the slosh of liquid. Scott looks up when he's finished pouring and it's like he can't remember how to breathe. Alex's eyes are shining with emotion and it suckerpunches Scott for the second time tonight. Only this time, Alex's soft smile seems a little more genuine. "I'm okay, Scott."

Scott swallows what little moisture is still left in his mouth and manages to unstick his tongue for the second it takes to respond, "Okay."

Alex moves then, sitting up and taking the whisky bottle out of Scott's hand and setting it back on the table; sets his own freshly refilled tumbler there as well. Then he takes Scott's hand, fingers fumbling with fingers. "I'm glad I'm one of the first in that line, mate."

Scott has trouble locking his gaze with Alex, but he can’t seem to look away long enough either – so his eyes just flicker between Alex’s eyes and mouth, as he mumbles something so quietly that Alex has to ask, “What?” 

“‘s no line for you, fucker,” Scott says, as if it brings him great pain to actually admit it. 

But it manages to bring a genuine smile to Alex’s face, so Scott can’t help but say it again. 

“Never a line for you,” he whispers as Alex’s thumb rubs the palm of Scott’s hand. 

Alex opens his legs a bit, just enough for Scott to automatically step closer, his legs brushing against Alex’s thighs. 

Scott’s not quite sure what they’re doing, or if it’s the Scotch or the vulnerability of the day; or if it’s simply where they’ve been heading all along. And it seems that Alex is none the wiser because he just looks at Scott, quietly fumbling with his hands. 

“I don’t have to battle hordes of fans to get your attention then?” Alex smiles after a while, and his voice sounds rough, but Scott is sure it has nothing to do with the booze. 

Scott wants to say something witty, wants to tease him a bit, or leave him hanging. But all he manages to do is shake his head slowly, like he’s in some sort of daze, before leaning in. 

It's embarrassing, really, how many times Scott has thought about this happening. 

He'd imagined having to stand on his tip-toes to even reach the goof's lips, or that they'd be much more inebriated than having had just one drink each, or that it'd be quick and dirty in one of their trailers and then really awkward afterwards. And hey, nothing's to say that it might not still be awkward after.

But, this.

It's like time has just stopped with how long it seems to take him to lean down the short distance to Alex's upturned face. It's almost heady how Alex squeezes his hand gently, thumb still pressing into Scott's palm. How Scott can't help but touch Alex's jaw, take in the prickle of his end-of-day stubble against his fingertips. How Alex's tongue darts out to lick his lips and how that one action seems to run on a direct current to Scott's dick.

Fuck, he's gorgeous. And he's  his ?

At least for tonight?

Scott can't help but brush his thumb along Alex's lower lip, slick and shining. They're so close now that Scott can feel the little puffs of Alex's breath as it mingles with his own. 

He drags his gaze away from Alex's lips; focuses on the clear gray-blue of his eyes.

And somehow he finds his voice. And hates himself for it.

For not just fucking  taking .

But this is too important. Too...

It's too...

"You sure about this, babe?"

There’s a hitch in Alex’s breath as he pulls back a little, and Scott doesn’t miss the fear in his voice as he asks, “Aren’t you?” 

And fuck if he didn’t  know  he was supposed to keep his mouth shut, because Scott’s sure he’ll never regret anything more than not getting together with Alex this evening. But now Alex is looking so damn insecure, and he needs to fix this, he needs to fix it fast. And so Scott’s hands might just hold on a little too tightly as he grips Alex’s arms, and nudges himself even closer between Alex’s spread legs. 

“Yes. Fuck, Alex,  yes ,” Scott says, and he’s not even trying to keep the hint of desperation out of his voice. “I am so sure of this, you wouldn’t believe. I just don’t want to fuck this up.” 

“I’d say you were doing quite well,” Alex says, and there’s a smile creeping in. “Before.” 

“Yeah?” Scott asks, and damn if he isn’t a little bit breathless already. 

“Yeah,” Alex whispers and surges forward, pressing his lips against Scott’s. 

Finally. God, finally.

It’s all that Scott can think about as Alex’s hand disappears into his hair and pulls him even closer. 

Finally  those lips.

Finally  those hands.

Finally  those arms. That body.

This man.

All for him. Fucking  finally .

Scott's mouth opens up under Alex's kiss pretty much immediately. And he doesn't even care if that makes him seem easy or slutty or obviously desperate. 

When it comes to Alex, it's all true anyway.

He doesn't even understand why it's taken this long, really. It's not like co-stars don't fuck all the time. Scott's done it; he knows Alex has done it.

And, yet. They've been working together over a year and nothing's happened before now.

The way Alex's tongue plunges slick and wet and hot, so fucking hot, into Scott's mouth - he can't help but think of every single day since the beginning that they could have been doing this. 

Doing this a lot.

But it's never been like this with anyone else, not for Scott. It's like the friendship, the build-up - it's making it that much more intense, sweeter, electric. And the way Alex is moaning into his mouth and tilting Scott's head into a position where he can practically devour him - maybe, just maybe, they are both on the same page here.

It only takes the slightest of tugs and Scott finds himself falling into Alex’s lap. He gasps as he feels the obvious bulge in Alex’s pants press up against his thigh and breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath, to stop his brain from short-circuiting. 

“I’m sorry, I…” Alex stutters, breathing heavily against Scott’s neck. And when is he ever out of breath? 

Scott manages to shake his head, pressing down his hips, which causes Alex to twitch underneath him. 

“Want this,” he says, leaving a trail of kisses on Alex’s neck, “I want you. I want you…  God , Alex…” 

"Fuck, Scotty." And Alex's nose is pressed to Scott's neck, his lips nipping along the edge of his t-shirt. And he's gripping Scott's hips so tight, Scott can't help but grind against him some more.

"C'mon, c'mon," Scott mumbles against Alex's skin, already shining with sweat and tasting salty delicious. His fingers move to the front of Alex's shirt, the soft fabric, the seemingly endless buttons, and somehow he pulls back far enough to will his fingers to press and pull the plastic from their holes, revealing inch by inch of beautiful skin.

And then Alex is tugging at him, pulling Scott's t-shirt up his sides where it catches under his arms until Scott finally gives in and raises them. "You, too," Scott breathes and gets the last button undone, the shirt sliding down Alex's arms, revealing ink and muscles and everything Scott has dreamed of for so long.

The shirt is bunched somewhere around Alex’s wrists, Scott still absently tugging at the sleeves as he busies himself tracing the edges of the tattoos with his tongue. Alex’s muscles flex as he tries to free himself from the shirt, but Scott scrapes against the skin with his teeth, then sucks and licks at the ink as if his life depends on it. 

“Scott,” Alex breathes, finally slipping his arms free and the shirt falls to the floor somewhere – forgotten. 

Scott shifts a little, positioning himself better so he straddles Alex, grinding his hips down. 

“Scott…” Alex says again, hands roaming on Scott’s skin. 

Scott kisses his way to Alex’s chest, nipping at the black ink swirling around his nipple. 

“Scott.” Alex tries one more time, even as he’s leaning back to give Scott more access. “Maybe we should…” 

“Don’t wanna stop…” Scott mumbles, fingers digging into the muscles of Alex’s arms. 

“No…” Alex shakes his head, then presses his face in the crook of Scott’s neck. “Just… maybe we should go inside?” 

"No." Scott knows he can't bear to be more than a few inches away from Alex right now. "Can't stop," he whispers into Alex's sternum as he nibbles across his chest to his other pec, tracing the curved line of that stupid sun from side to side with his tongue. He rubs his thumb around Alex's nipple, savors the gasp he releases when Scott presses in on the nub, still circling.

Their hips are finding a natural rhythm of their own, grinding and rubbing, the hard lines of their cocks pressed together through the fabric of their pants. Too much in between. 

So much that Scott needs.

He forces himself to pull back, both hands on Alex's face. He can't stop staring at his lips, kiss-swollen and wet. Can't resist dipping in for one more kiss, sweet and slow, his tongue swiping along Alex's bottom lip. He pulls away and Alex tries to follow, making Scott smile. 

His hands move down between them, tracing slow lines with his blunt nails down the ridges of Alex's chest and abs. "I don't care if you have stalker fangirls in every bush, paparazzi with zoom lenses in every tree, I'm not stopping 'til you're stripped down, sweaty and completely fucked out, Alex." His fingers reach the waistband of Alex's shorts and dip just underneath. "I want your cock in my mouth and your come on my face."

Jesus ,” Alex chokes out the word, and Scott is too busy with his mouth on Alex’s skin to smirk. 

“You can’t just say stuff like that…” Alex breathes, his hands running over Scott’s arms like he’s not quite sure what to do with them. As if all he knows is that he needs to keep touching Scott. 

“I can if I follow through, yeah?” Scott says, and there’s a distinct smirk now and Scott almost catches Alex’s smile but then he’s sliding out of his lap and sinking to his knees between Alex’s legs and all Alex can seem to do is stare. Stare at Scott who’s kneeling down in front of him, whose fingers are prying open the buttons on his pants and yanking them down as far as they’ll go while seated. 

Scott looks up at him and waits for him to say something, do something. But still all Alex can do is stare, until he manages a tiny nod. And just like that Scott dips down and mouths at Alex’s hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. 

"Oh, fuck, Scott." Scott hears as he tilts his head, wrapping his lips along the sides of Alex's cloth-covered erection and sliding up. The drag of the cotton against his lips, the way it's dampening with his every exhale, the taste of Alex's pre-come when he reaches the wet spot at the tip; fuck, it's so damn good. 

Alex smells amazing and Scott nuzzles his nose against the trail of hair at his abdomen, while his tongue is circling and lapping at the plump head of Alex's cock. It's intoxicating and rich and Scott can't even think about going without this any longer.

He wants it all, whatever Alex is willing to give him.

He rubs his cheek against Alex's cock, the outline long and hard and curving towards his hip. He looks up at him. It's dark out, but it's still easy to see the cuts and lines of his body, the shadow of his jaw, the bow of his lips where his mouth is open, his head tilted back.

Alex moans and it goes straight to Scott's dick. He reaches down, pressing the heel of his palm firmly into the base of his cock until the urgency subsides a little. He's got plans and they don't end with him coming in his pants like a teenager.

“Jesus…” Alex mutters and Scott looks up to find Alex looking down at him, looking at him like he’s fucking  special  and it makes Scott’s mouth go dry. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of Alex’s boxers and Alex is already lifting his hips in anticipation and Scott just doesn’t want to disappoint. He yanks down the boxers, drags the pants along until Alex’s cock springs free. Scott doesn’t hesitate a second. He licks his lips and wraps them around Alex in one go.

A shaky breath escapes Alex’s mouth, and there are fingers tightening in Scott’s hair, Scott’s precious hair, but he can’t seem to care right now. All that matters is Alex. 

Alex.  Alex

Alex who makes little choked off sounds as Scott slides his tongue along the underside of his cock, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid to make any real noise. And no,  no , that’s no good. Scott needs to hear him. He craves all the little sounds he’s sure Alex can make. 

Scott inhales, sucks in deep and hollows his cheeks as he pulls back slowly, so excruciatingly slow, inch by inch along Alex's cock. His mouth slips off the end with a popping sound, wet and obscene. Alex moans and his hand tightens in Scott's hair. Their eyes meet and Scott begs, "That’s it, babe. Talk to me, let me hear you, 'kay?"

"Fuck, Scott, okay. So bloody good." And Scott smiles, one hand still stroking Alex’s uncut dick, pulling the skin forward and back again. He licks his lips and leans back in, laving the exposed fat head of Alex's dick with his tongue. He grabs the base and strokes up, feeling the delicious slide of Alex's velvety skin, tasting the precome he's coaxing out. 

And Alex is letting him hear it now - a litany of curses and praises and telling Scott what a good cocksucker he is, and Scott is eager, such a fucking slut for Alex's cock in under a minute. It may be a bit pathetic, but it is what it is. Scott feels like he could do this all damn night.

Alex is shifting slightly in his seat and Scott thinks he's wanting to fuck his mouth, which he'd be okay with, fine with, in fact - but Alex is leaning over to the side, reaching one long arm around and down and Scott can't help it. He pulls off, but doesn't stop stroking. "What the fuck, Alex?"

"Gotta get these pants off. Need..." And Scott can see that he's pushing the fabric past his knees, towards his ankles, trying to get them past his bare feet, one-by-one.

"Okay, okay." So Scott leans back and pulls the clothes off in one swoop and then Alex is bare as the day he was born and shifting his ass to the very edge of the lounger, widening his legs and leaning back on his elbows. His cock is glistening wet and leaking against his stomach. 

"Scotty," Alex whispers, his voice wrecked, eyes heavy-lidded. He grabs his dick and pushes it towards Scott. "Need your mouth, Caan."

And fuck if it's not every wet dream Scott's ever had laid out in front of him.

Scott licks his way along the length of Alex’s dick, over Alex’s fingers that are wrapped around it. He lets his teeth scrape against Alex’s hand before sucking the tip of his dick in his mouth. Scott twirls his tongue around the head, lingering at the slit. 

Alex’s hand falls at his side for a second before it’s back in Scott’s hair, encouraging him – as if Scott had any doubt that Alex was seriously enjoying this. The string of soft moans and grunts wash over Scott and he tries to catalogue every single one of them, hoping he  never  forgets what pleasure sounds like when it’s falling from Alex’s mouth. 

“Mmmm, so good, Scotty. Please.  Yes .” 

Scott slides his hands up Alex’s thighs, then cups his balls and gently squeezes them. Alex’s ass is so close to the edge of the lounger that Scott can slip his finger far behind Alex’s balls, teasing with his entrance. 

“Shit,  Scott ,” Alex gasps, hips twitching right off the chair.

And that kind of reaction right there? Yeah, that's more than enough invitation for what Scotty wants to do next.

Alex's whine when Scott releases his dick and pulls back, biting on his inner thigh, makes Scott smile. He's still cupping Alex's balls, his middle finger rubbing light-light-firm circles around Alex's asshole.

"Wanna fuck you, Alex. Want you screaming my name, my cock so deep inside you." Scott lifts his head enough to look up Alex's body, see the ripple of Alex's muscles as he shivers.

"Fuck yeah, want that, Scotty," Alex gasps, his hips shifting forward in an attempt for some kind of friction on his cock, then down again, obviously not wanting to lose contact where Scott's fingers are driving him crazy. "Want you."

The glimpses of ink on Alex's undulating hips make Scott want to flip him over and do filthy filthy things. God damn.

But he knows there won't be any actual fucking out here, not right now anyway. It's not like they'd really planned this and he seriously doubts that O'Loughlin keeps lube and condoms readily available on his lanai. 

None of that means he can't still have a little fun though.

He pulls away and grabs Alex's thighs underneath. "Lean back, babe," he commands, and Alex complies immediately, definitely eager to see what Scott's up to. Scott pushes Alex's legs up and opens him up wide. His breath catches at how compliant Alex is being, his bare ass and all his junk exposed to the night air and anything else in the vicinity.

Scott's glad it's only him who's getting to see this though. He smiles at Alex and leans forward, "Hold on" the only warning he gives before swiping his tongue up behind Alex's balls and then tracing down down down.

Alex is struggling to keep his hips still, Scott can tell, and is failing spectacularly. The second Scott’s tongue starts teasing and circling, Alex’s breath hitches and his hips push up in search of more contact. Scott grabs Alex’s hips, pushing them back down in the chair, trying hard not to smirk at Alex’s eagerness. 

“You like that, babe?” he asks, muttering against Alex’s skin. 

“Fuck yea…” Alex’s words end in a yelp as Scott dives back in and pushes his tongue past the rim. 

His fingers run soothing circles in the soft skin below Alex’s hipbones and the little desperate, wanton sounds that Alex is making just drive him insane. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott is wondering how he’s ever going to be able to do scenes with this man again, how he’s going to be able to look at him like he  doesn’t  want to push him down and taste every inch of that skin. But then again, with the way Danny and Steve look at each other sometimes… Maybe not a whole lot has to change? 

Alex’s hands are gripping the edge of the lounger so tightly it’s bound to hurt, and Scott already misses the touch, even though he knows Alex is just trying to regain some control, trying hard not to fall apart. 

Scott thinks that he's failing spectacularly, but he can't really blame Alex for that. Scott is having a hard time keeping it together too, as Alex starts whimpering every time Scott twists his tongue in, exploring every inch of Alex. 

"Scott..." The name is more a breath than an actual word as Alex is squirming underneath his touch. 

Scott can hear Alex is close - so close - and the thought sends a shiver down his spine.  He  is doing this to Alex. 

Scott reaches up, wrapping his fingers around the base of Alex's cock and squeezing as he slides it up the hard length. 

Alex twitches and gasps for air, and then he's pulling back slightly so that Scott has no choice but to break contact. 

"Fuck, Scott, I'm gonna..." Alex breathes heavily, "If you keep... I'm going to..."

He tilts his head back, letting out a shuddering groan. 

"That's the general idea, babe." Scott smirks, speeding up the rhythm of the fist he's still got wrapped around Alex's cock. "I kinda really want you to come." 

"God!" Alex grits out and then he's raised up and his hand is over Scott's, engulfing it and stilling it against his cock, squeezing down hard. "Not..." He licks his lips. "Not without you, man. Want you with me."

Scott just smiles, leaning up to cup Alex's cheek and catch his lips, slip his tongue in quickly before pulling away. "That's sweet, big guy. Really." He's not letting go of Alex's dick though, not any time soon. He rubs his thumb over the tip and can't stop the smirk from spreading on his face when Alex shudders beneath him. "Maybe you weren't paying attention earlier, though? What I said was gonna happen?" He leans back down and licks across the head of Alex's cock, hot and throbbing and wet. "Not stopping, babe."

And then he takes Alex's cockhead back in his mouth fully and starts moving his fist, Alex's grip loosening just enough to let it happen. Scotty looks up, watches Alex watching him: both of them pumping his cock, Scott sucking and tonguing like it's his fucking job. 

"Fuck, Scott. Fuck!" And Scott can feel Alex's dick thicken and begin to pulse. He savors Alex's guttural groan as he pulls back, hand never slowing, mouth still open as Alex's hot come stripes his chin, his cheek, his lips.

Alex is gasping for air, his entire body rigid as he comes down from his high; and Scott has to close his eyes for a second. His cock is still throbbing with need inside his pants. His face striped with Alex’s come; and he can feel it on his skin, messy and sticky and such a turn-on. He tries to regain some control again, tries to pull it together before his desire for Alex just breaks him into a million pieces.

But then Alex leans forward, grabs Scott’s neck between both his hands, thumbs rubbing along his jawline as he swipes his tongue over Scott’s cheek, lapping up his own come.

“Oh,  Jesus ,” Scott blurts out, fingers flying to his own pants and fumbling to get the button open, ‘cause he can’t wait any longer. This can’t wait. He needs to come like he needs air to breathe.

He pushes his pants down unceremoniously and tugs his cock out roughly as he starts jerking. And Alex actually has the nerve to laugh. Mouth still working on the come on Scott’s face, and he actually has the honest to God nerve to  laugh  because Scott is beyond desperate?

“You finding this funny, O’Loughlin?” Scott asks, his voice unsteady.

Alex’s smile answers that question. He brings his thumb to his lips and licks, a smudge of his own come disappearing in an instant. Nodding to the action in Scott’s lap, he asks, “Need some help with that?” 

His eyes are still hooded from his recent trip to the land of endorphins, but it’s the crinkles at the edges, the mile-fucking-long lashes batting against his cheek, the sweat at his temples that makes the little streaks of gray there stand out even more... He’s fucking beautiful. And Scott can’t believe he’s his.

When Scott can’t seem to answer, can’t seem to do anything but pull at his dick and stare at Alex dumbly, Alex slips off the lounger to sit in front of him - those crazy long legs splayed to either side, framing Scott in between. His hand covers Scott’s completely as he murmurs, “Come on, baby. Let me help you.”

And how can he say no to that, right? So Scott lets his hand slip free and lets Alex have free rein. And it’s kind of odd, the way they’re sitting there, Scott kneeling in between Alex’s open legs - Alex’s softening cock resting against his thigh. But then Alex starts stroking, starts building up a rhythm that is  just right . And how the fuck does he know how Scott likes it anyway? 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Scott manages to say, and then his hand slips behind Alex’s neck and he pulls him close. 

Alex’s mouth opens up underneath him immediately, kissing him somewhat lazily as the urge in Scott’s body builds up. Alex’s hand is still working Scott’s cock fervently, thumb flicking over the head every now and then, squeezing tight as he reaches the base. He slides his hand down, fondling Scott’s balls for a second before paying attention to the shaft again. 

Scott groans into Alex’s mouth, tugging at the back of Alex’s neck like he simply can’t come close enough. Alex breaks free from the kiss, licking his lips before saying sweetly, “You gonna come for me, Scotty?” 

Scott can’t help the groan that escapes against Alex’s cheek. He’s open-mouthed and panting and  so fucking close .

“Yeah, you’re close, baby, I can tell. Gonna shoot for me. Shoot all over me. Let me take care of you.” Alex is chanting in Scott’s ear and it’s fucking heaven, his hands still moving over him so expertly, working him like this is anything but the first time - like it’s the hundredth time, the thousandth time. And Scott wants it to be. Wants to work up to that with Alex. And he can’t ever remember wanting that with anyone. “Alex,  god .”

Alex leans forward just the little bit it takes to lick along Scott’s throat, nibble his way across his collarbone and then he’s sinking his teeth into Scott’s shoulder. Hard. It makes Scott jerk, both hands gripping Alex’s inked upper arms, his hips thrusting his cock forward into the circle of Alex’s tight fist. 

And that’s all it takes.

Scott stills inside Alex’s grip, the muscles of his abdomen clenching and he’s pretty sure he’s groaning something pathetic but he can’t hear over the rush of pleasure flowing through his body. 

Alex is muttering too, dropping little kisses on his shoulder, his neck, one oh-so-sweetly on his cheek. “That’s it, baby. That’s it.” 

Scott lets his head fall against Alex’s shoulder, buries his face in the crook of Alex’s neck as he realizes he still has a deathgrip on Alex’s arms. He relaxes his fingers - his entire body seems to be following suit - as Alex lets go of his spent cock, wiping his messy fingers on Scott’s bunched down pants. 

“Fucker,” Scott breathes out in a smile, nose pressed against the sticky-sweaty skin of Alex’s neck. 

“That’s not what you said a second ago,” Alex smiles, sounding smug as ever, and it would be nice if Scott could actually remember what he said as he came. He’s pretty sure it was embarrassing and needy, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind altogether ‘cause he keeps touching Scott, keeps planting little kisses on his skin. 

“I don’t think I wanna know what I said a second ago.” Scott raises his head and leans back a bit, taking in Alex’s face - yep, smug as ever. He looks down, taking in the scene that they made together, taking a moment to regroup.

There’s come splattered on Alex’s abs and it’s kinda mesmerizing to see that proof of himself marking him so intimately. Scott reaches across and swipes a finger through it, then another, until Alex’s skin is a smeared mess and three of Scott’s fingers are covered and sticky. He meets Alex’s eyes as he raises his hand towards his own lips. Just as his tongue is sneaking out to taste, Alex grabs his wrist pulling his fingers into his own mouth instead.

The sight of Alex’s eyes rolling back as he tastes Scott for the first time, the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks every single finger clean - well, that’s going to keep Scott well-supplied in jerk-off images for a long time to come.

“Jesus,” Scott pants, and then Alex is covering his lips with his own as if he’s trying to share the taste with Scott. And if it were possible, Scott is sure he’d be sporting another hard-on already. 

Alex makes a whining noise, right into the kiss, and Scott can’t help but wonder if he’s in this as much as Scott is. If he’s just as desperate to have Scott - to not let go - as Scott is to have Alex. Scott doesn’t know if he can go back to being what they were. He knows he doesn’t want to, wants  this  to be the new them. But he can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. If maybe this was just a moment of weakness for Alex, comfort after a bad day. And it’s not that Scott didn’t want to give that comfort, it’s just that... Maybe he wants it to be more? 

Alex places his hands on either side of Scott’s face, dropping little kisses on his lips before he pulls back and smiles, “I can  hear  you thinking, Scotty. Don’t you ever shut that brain of yours off?” 

“Must be too deep for my own good.” Scott offers a smile, not in the least bit surprised at how well Alex knows him. 

“I thought for sure a nice orgasm would manage to do the trick.” Alex winks, thumbs rubbing circles over Scott’s jawline. 

Scott turns his head and kisses Alex’s palm before covering his hand with his own. “Was more than nice, babe,” he murmurs, then raises his eyes back to Alex’s. And Scott doesn’t want to hide anything in this moment, lets his face show everything he’s feeling right now. He can’t really help being that way. “Think we should... you know, talk about this?”

Alex raises an eyebrow and just smiles. “Maybe, yeah? But can we go inside now? Maybe get some feeling back in my arse?”

Scott’s mouth drops at the opening O’Loughlin just left him. “I can’t believe... okay, here goes.” And Alex rolls his eyes at Scott’s hand gestures and obvious amusement, knowing now just what’s coming. “I thought I felt your ‘arse’ up pretty good, but we can always give it another go.” And then Scott’s laughing and getting to his feet, half-expecting the shove that Alex gives him as he pulls him up by the hand and they stumble their way inside.

Scott holds on to Alex's hand as they walk, as if he's afraid that once he lets go, it'll all be over. Alex closes the door to the lanai behind them and turns to Scott, tugging at his hand.

"Hey, c'mere..." Alex mumbles, cupping Scott's face and leaning down to kiss him. Scott slips his arms around Alex's waist, skin still sweaty from their earlier activities. 

"Will you stop worrying for a second?" Alex whispers against Scott's lips. 

Scott huffs out a laugh and ducks his head until it rests against Alex's collarbone. 

"We're fine, you know?" Alex says, his hand rubbing circles between Scott's shoulder blades. "We're always gonna be fine, Scotty."

Scott lifts his head, smiles. "Even when we do crazy stuff like fuck each other's brains out?"

“Especially then.” And the way Alex looks at him, Scott can’t help but believe him.

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” Scott’s not smug enough to believe that sex with him will solve all of Alex’s problems. And Alex is still his best friend. He needs to know he’s okay.

Alex wraps a hand around Scott’s nape, rests their foreheads together. “I have a beautiful son, who I love dearly and who, for now, is but a phone call away. I have the most amazing job. A gorgeous home, dear friends.” He pulls back to look straight in Scott’s eyes. “And I have you.”

Alex’s smile is so warm, it’s no wonder there’s no snow in Australia, L.A., or Hawaii.

“I’d say I’m more than okay, Scott.” And Scott readily accepts the grateful kiss Alex gives him.

He brushes his nose against Alex’s as they part and can’t help but smile. “Do you also happen to have a bed? Cause, I’m just sayin’ - things might just get a little more perfect for you, if you do.”

Alex’s grin turns to a growl, then he’s manhandling him around, pushing and pulling and directing Scott down the hallway like his own personal playtoy. And seeing his friend so carefree again, Scott can’t find it within himself to mind one bit.