#* . ⊹ 𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘔𝘈𝘊 › dyn: charlie & mac

[pridef0und]

@ratkiing said : stolen kisses while hiding away from a crowd .

it was dee's idea, and quite frankly, it may be one of her best yet. sure, the supply closet in paddy's isn't the most romantic spot to make out with your buddy, but right now, she doesn't exactly need romantic. no, dee is looking for something that, strangely enough, only charlie can properly provide right now. charlie, of all people!

for whatever reason, the bar is absolutely hopping. dennis is manning the bar ( "because you do such a shit job, you bitch" ), mac's probably pretending he isn't ogling guys waiting impatiently for their drinks, frank is . . . doing whatever frank does.

dee, though? she's shoving charlie against the nearest wall in the cramped, musty closet. fingers grip tightly at the collar of his shirt, lips colliding with his in a messy, risky kiss. "oh, shit," she pulls back, albeit only briefly, to squint down at her shoe, "i just stepped in something. god dammit, i stepped in something and i wish i cared."

she loops her arms around his neck, chest melting against his, playful smile tugging at her lips. "but i don't, cuz i think we should kiss some more before dennis starts bitching about the drinks." she hums, eyebrows rising enticingly.

[pridef0und]

"you're bein' such a goddamn baby, dude!" he fires back, but his tone does little to back his point; he's all but whining, after all. an elbow comes flying in his direction, colliding with his ribs and drawing a yelp out of him that has him gracelessly falling back. "shit! what the hell was that for, charlie? it was a love tap!" it probably wasn't, especially with the flesh so tender and sensitive. but mac's been there, done that, so the raw pain of baby's first, second, umpteenth tattoo is more like a distant memory.

it works, though. he's got the needle back, charlie's not bitching anymore. life is good again. reaching out, he grabs charlie's cheeks and gives his head a little shake, silently and lightheartedly scolding him for that cute pout he's got going on. one tap, two taps, and then he's relenting, scooting forward to hunch over charlie's leg and focus on his work again.

"dunno," he replies truthfully, squinting down at his makeshift canvas in concentration, "thought i could get good at it, y'know? and then i could give big, buff biker dudes some badass tats and we'd make a killing." in a language that's entirely mac that only the gang understands, that roughly translates to "i want to touch more dudes." "oh! i can have my own signature and shit! all of the best artists do. check it out, i'm gonna write 'big mac' on your leg." a giddy grin stretches across his face and he positions the needle below the half - finished cat he's abruptly dropped.

"no, bro !! goddamn you, mac !! it fuckin' hurts ..." charlie mumbles his complaint with a heavy sigh, reaching forward to grab his beer bottle that he had sat down on the table. he takes a large swig, he would need to be drunker for this if he was going to let mac continue on with the tattoo.

he jumps a bit as his thigh is slapped, throwing his elbow in mac's general direction to tray and wave him off. "ouch !! dude now you're fuckin' hitting me ?? asshole ..." head shakes from side to side, squeezing his eyes shut. he makes a noise in the back of his throat, a muddled shout as he hands over the needle. "fine, man. i won't rush your fuckin' process or whatever. just like be careful, okay ??"

he takes another sip of his beer before discarding it on the table once more. he moves then to cross his arms over his chest, pouting slightly, looking at mac. "i'm like so cool. i'm being totally cool right now, man." he pauses for a moment, raising a brow. "what got you so big into wantin' t' give me a tattoo anyway, dude ??"

[pridef0und]

this is weird. it's supposed to be weird, isn't it? making out with your best friend until you're both breathless and flushed is weird. it definitely doesn't feel that way, though. no, spending lazy afternoons kissing charlie feels all kinds of right and casual, like something unique to them that's just another one of their things. throwing rocks at trains, wrestling in the middle of the street . . . making out. normal. mac and charlie things.

he doesn't know why he suddenly has the urge to suck and nip and tease at stubble - lined skin with his tongue, but mac isn't one to question himself until long after the fact. one hand holds charlie in place with a firm grip on his jaw, the other curled into the fabric of his shirt. skin tastes salty with sweat, earthy with dirt, but it's all so charlie that it doesn't bug him. if anything, he strangely likes it.

when he pulls back with a 'pop', he admires his work with a toothy grin, thumb dipping down to brush against the bruise blossoming across charlie's skin. "i know," he agrees with a bit too much ease and giddiness, "isn't it awesome?" clearly dee and dennis and their relentless jabs are the last things on his mind.

"check it out," he leans in closer, "some chick taught me this trick in high school. it's wild. ready?" he pauses only for a beat before gently blowing cool air across that sensitive patch of skin, and yeah, maybe he presses a sloppy, open - mouthed kiss against it, but can you blame him? mac loves watching him squirm.

and besides, he has charlie's approval and encouragement. really, that's all mac needs to be all over someone, craving warmth and touch and praise. so he surges in again, laying a trail of kisses along the other's jaw, occasionally dragging his teeth across the skin while trying to scope out the perfect spot for another fresh hickey.

@citymxc sent : [ HICKEY ]:  sender  gives  receiver  a  hickey. ( for charlie <3 )

this seemed to be happening more often, and there were no complaints from charlie about it. he had always liked mac a little bit more than just a friend, he just never really had the words to describe it. he felt relieved that mac seemed to feel the same way. often times lazy days alone in charlie's apartment would lead to something like this. the two sitting close to each other on the couch, eventually ending up with one of them in the others lap, soft touches and kisses that would soon lead to more ...

charlie feels like he's almost in a daze as mac peppers soft kisses to his neck, a nip here or there across his flushed skin. and then mac halts, lips paying more mind to the patch of skin right at the base of his neck. charlie's breath hitches as the other starts to suck at his skin, head tilting back and eyes fluttering shut. a moan even slips out from his throat, hands moving to reach up to grasp mac's shoulders, clinging to him.

"fuck, mac ..." he mumbles quietly as the other pulls away, green eyes opening to meet brown. his hand withdraws from his shoulder then, moving to brush against the newly bruised skin. "dude, i think you just gave me a hickey." it's not really a romantic thing by any means, but charlie's just caught a bit off guard ( albeit a bit turned on ) by this new mark on his skin. "the ... shit ... dennis and dee are for sure gonna give me crap for this." he mumbles, mostly to himself.

then there's a small pause, and charlie just stares at mac for a few moments longer. tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes quickly casting downwards before he speaks again. "you should ... i mean ... if you want to ... you should do that again. like ... like more of 'em."

[pridef0und]

okay, so mac is a little bit drunker than usual; the only logical remedy to a hangover is more booze, though. everybody knows that. so by noon, he's sporting more than a hefty buzz, and what most would consider liquid courage tends to be his liquid cowardice. he slumps against the grimy bar, chin resting on his outstretched arms. dennis had long since given him the boot from their apartment after he camped outside of his door and asked the tedious question that he now poses to charlie: "you're not leaving . . . right?"

though normally a happy ( albeit angry ) drunk, mac finds himself drowning in his own insecurities with no schemes and no gang to keep him occupied. charlie is good, though. charlie never mocks him for having feelings. charlie never tells him to screw. screw dennis. screw dennis.

"no, bro, you come on," he fires back nonsensically, "you come on." he's jostled by the punch that his best friend delivers, and yet . . . he revels in the warmth, as fleeting as it is. "it's like, ass crack o'clock and you probably wanna sleep and you've got frank, who's old and gross. he's so much older and grosser than me, dude!" he exclaims, raising his arms theatrically and then dropping them back down again with a thump.

but then an arm is draped around him. that warmth is redelivered to him tenfold, and mac all but melts into charlie's side without hesitation or inhibitions to weigh him down. lifting his head, he lets it fall briefly upon the other's shoulder, shifting wide - blown, bloodshot brown eyes to meet charlie's own. "seriously?" he asks, voice soft to match his friend's — it's a far cry from how loud and rambunctious booze usually makes him. "like, for real?"

@citymxc sent : "you're not going to leave me, right?" ( for charlie bc charmac soft <3 )

as soon as the question comes out of mac's mouth charlie's brows knit together in concern. "huh ?? leave you ?? bro ... come on." he reaches a hand forward, giving mac's arm a playful punch. his own arm moves then, wrapping around the others shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "like ... i've known you since kindergarten. you couldn't get rid of me if you tried." he grows a bit silent then, drawing in a deep breath. he's trying to dissolve the sadness away with humor like he usually does, but charlie realizes that this might not be the right time for it. "i'd never leave you, man." he adds then, voice quieter than before. "like ... i dunno what my life would look like without you. you've got nothin' to worry about, mac. i promise."

[pridef0und]

this level of casual intimacy is just as foreign for dee as it is for charlie. nobody ever sticks around long enough for lazy saturdays with her ( and if they do, she's probably kicking their asses out the door anyways after finding some weird imperfection ). it's nice, though. it feels natural with charlie. she feels safe to sport bedhead without being mocked, to skip the bra, to bask in the newfound mess the two of them have created in her apartment within the last few hours.

she lays on her side, pressed up against charlie and greedily stealing all of the heat he has to offer. her nose nudges absentmindedly at his ear, his jaw, and her hand seems to travel up the length of his bare abdomen all too easily. when fingertips bump against raised skin, she shifts her gaze down towards familiar scars and studies them.

not judgmentally. not uncomfortably. in fact, dee actually admires them, fingertips gliding gracefully across the flesh with caution and care. she commits edge bump, each ridge, each patch of flesh that's managed to smooth over time to memory, pausing only when charlie brings attention to her actions.

"huh?" she asks, inching her head back and lifting her eyes back up to his. eyebrows crease, shoulders raising in a shrug. "just . . . y'know, touching. if that's cool with you." she chuckles lightly, fingers raising for a moment to brush against a pink cheek. "'course i've noticed, char. but it's not like it's anything to write home about, y'know? just another thing that makes you who you are."

@clockturned sent : ∗ 4o﹕ sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  [ scars / bruises ] . ( from dee <3 )

he's not used to this ... being comfortable enough to do it at least. but as charlie lays in dee's bed on his back, dee's arm wrapped around his waist, he feels safe. it's obvious really how safe he feels around her, his shirt was off after all. it wasn't really even a concern for him anymore, lounging around her apartment shirtless in his boxers. comfortable, happy. that's how he felt. he didn't really even realize it until he could feel her hand sneaking up his waist and towards his chest. brow raises and he tilts his head down to glance at dee's hand, watching as her fingertips carefully trace over his top surgery scars.

"wh ... uh ... what're you doing ??" there's no anger in his voice, more so confusion than anything else. they had never really talked about it before, dee had never brought attention to them before. brows furrow together and his head tilts to look at her face, cheeks tinted a rosy pink. "have you like ... not noticed them before or somethin' ??"

[pridef0und]

“goddammit, charlie!” he exclaims, tossing his arms up in exasperation. in one hand, he holds a needle that’s definitely not properly sanitized. in the other? a bottle of beer, which is probably very telling in regards to how proficient he is at giving charlie what he’d call an ‘artful tattoo’. dennis was his first choice ( any excuse to touch, after all ), but dennis would probably sooner eat one of frank’s bullets than let anyone come near him with a needle, much less mac.

so here he is, screwing around with charlie, shitfaced and hunched over. he’s not wearing gloves. a bare hand whacks charlie’s thigh when he bitches and squirms, and when he snatches the needle right out of mac’s hands, a petulant scowl twitches at his lips. “dude! it’s my turn, give it back! i’m like, trying to channel my inner artist and shit and you’re making it way too hard!” he insists, reaching for the needle.

his own words are slurred, eyelids heavy. but that doesn’t stop him from trying to get charlie into a headlock. “it doesn’t look like a cat ‘cuz i’m not finished, dickhole! you can’t rush the fuckin’ process!” his words form around irritated grunts, teeth clenched. “this is so not cool. you’re so not cool! you told me you’d be cool!”

@clockturned sent : tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo. ( from mac! )

"ow !! shit dude." charlie lets out a tisk as he yanks his knee back from mac. it was probably not the smartest idea for mac to give charlie a tattoo, but charlie did agree to it. tattoos were cool and badass, after all ... and maybe the pair was pretty damn drunk. most things sounded like a good idea after polishing off a case of beer. "you're like ... totally stabbing me too deep with that thing." he grumbles, gesturing towards the sewing needle mac was holding.

"i like ... i've given myself one of these before so i'm pretty sure i know ... what you're supposed to do." charlie slurs, moving to snatch the needle out of mac's hand. yes, mac had tattoos, but he hadn't given them to himself. brows furrow as he glances down at the poorly drawn doodle of a cat above his knee, nudging mac with his elbow. "that like ... barely even looks like a cat, man !!"