Title: Moment of Truth in Your Lies
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Don/Charlie
Rating: Strong R (sexual situation)
Warning: Incest
Word Count: 577
Disclaimer: Not mine, only borrowing, just fun, no infringement intended
A/N: callmeang suggested the Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris" as a perfect Don/Charlie song... and then all but dared me to write it.


“I hate you because I’m jealous.”

“I hate you because you have it so easy.”

“I think about you.”

“I think it only feels good when you do it.”

“I killed a man today.”

“I killed myself today not having you around.”

“I was going to marry her.”

“I was a consultant for the NSA on a counter-terrorism unit.”

“I can’t stand it when you’re in the room with me, and I can’t look at you.”

“I can’t stand it when you don’t look at me.”

“I’m in therapy.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Confessions had been set out over time, jigsaw pieces here and there as they came together to form more complete pictures of one another, but Don held the last piece of Charlie and hesitated to complete the puzzle.

It had been present in the air for years as they fooled around with each other, and there was no denying it, but there was no saying it, either. Until now.

Charlie broke the unspoken rule.

Don wanted to hit him, say that Charlie didn’t mean it – couldn’t mean it, lie and say that he didn’t feel the same.

“It’s not enough, Don. I miss you after every time because I can’t get my fill. I don’t want to miss you anymore. Not tonight.”

Don pressed his mouth to his brother’s lips. “Don’t make me say it, Charlie. I can’t.”

Tears prickled Charlie’s eyes and slipped silently down his cheeks, and Don kissed them away. He used slow hands to peel off Charlie’s clothes, lips against each newly revealed section of skin, and he prayed he could say the same to Charlie without having to use words, that he could let the curly-haired man with the cherub face know that he felt the same with his actions, his fingertips, his tongue, his body.

He kept his eyes connected with Charlie’s as he slid in and out of his body, Charlie tight and perfect around him. Charlie had told him years ago that it only felt good when it was the two of them, and time had done nothing to change that. Even romps in motel beds with the greatest of lovers hadn’t made Charlie’s confession any less true because there was just something in looking down at their familiar bodies joined, something in looking up and seeing the face he’d known his whole life contorted in a heavenly mixture of exquisite pleasure and dulling pain.

Charlie arched his back each time Don pushed in, and Don was careful to take the angle that Charlie needed to make it hurt less, to hit the spot where it felt best. With every fiber of his being, Don took conscious measures to make sure that Charlie knew he was making love to him. It wasn’t stress relief or blind passion. It wasn’t meaningless. It was everything.

Charlie fell asleep in Don’s arms, clinging tightly to him as if Don would disappear if he let go. Don listened to the sound of Charlie breathing, the occasional light snore, and felt drool slip from his mouth onto Don’s chest. Don couldn’t be disgusted by it; nothing Charlie could do in that moment would turn him away. Don twisted a soft curl in his fingers and watched his brother sleep.

He focuses his hearing on the world around him and settles slightly when he’s confident that there’s not another soul around.

“I love you, too, Charlie. I’m in love with you, too.”