Chapter Text
George sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He had a slight headache from all the loud noise coming from the arena and he really wished he was at home with his cat, a good book and a large cup of hot chocolate. He really didn’t see the reason the detectives had to drag him over to some huge wrestling game just because there ’might be someone for you to shrink’.
But of course there wasn’t. He was about ninety two percent sure Elliot had made certain Captain Cragen told him to go with them just to piss him off. Elliot seemed to love to try and get a rise out of him, and to be honest it was way too similar to a prepubescent boy trying to grab the attention of the girl he liked by pulling her hair.
Frankly, it hurt and was annoying and if Elliot really had some weird crush on him he could just as well try his moves on a giant panda, because George wasn’t going to stand for that kind of behaviour. And he most certainly wasn’t going to walk into a relationship that was already tethering on the edge of becoming abusive long before it had even started.
Barely avoiding two men carrying buckets and towels rushing past him in the narrow corridor George stumbled and nearly fell in through an open door.
”Aah, sh-”
”Whoah, there. You okay, man?”
The voice was slightly rough, but with an edge of softness and sounded slightly concerned and George suddenly found himself engulfed in a pair of huge, tattooed arms just before he hit the floor. He tilted his head back as far as he could get to try and get a look at the man’s face, and more felt than heard a low rumbling chuckle from the man holding him.
”Easy, don’t go breaking your neck, kitten.”
George felt his face heat up at what he was certain was meant as a degrading sneer at his shortness, and quickly entangled himself from the other man's arms.
Or rather, he tried to.
”Whoah, whoah, no need to throw a hissy fit. Retract your claws, kitten, I didn’t mean anything bad with it.”
The man finally let go and George quickly backed up a couple of steps, raising his chin and glaring him straight in the face with his dark eyes narrowed dangerously. Not having fully realised yet exactly how big the man was he felt a slight shiver of fear run through him when he was finally able to take in his appearance.
He was clearly a wrestler, tall and broad shouldered with bulging muscles that seemed only seconds away from bursting through his tight tank top, his head shaved and stubble covering the lower half of his face. His eyes were a surprisingly warm brown in a hard, chiseled face and his mouth was quirked in a small, amused smile.
”If you’re done panicking, maybe you could tell me your name, and what you are doing here. Not that I mind the company, it’s a welcome break from the usual yapping crowd of tag-alongs.”
His eyes sparkled with humour and George felt himself calm down against his own will. The man’s voice was almost soothing, keeping a gentle tone as if he wanted to make sure not to scare the small intruder. None of his shrink senses were tingling with any kind of warning and with a barely noticeable sigh he finally let himself relax, more or less convinced he wasn’t about to get his head smashed in.
”Ah… I – my name is George. George Huang. I’m with the FBI… and I was brought here for the case I’m sure you’ve already heard all the commotion about. I didn’t mean to stumble into your room, I was on my way back out.”
”Well, then, George, welcome to my humble abode for the evening. You can call me Dave, Dave Batista.”
His eyes focused on George as if he was waiting for something, expecting a reaction perhaps…
Raising a dark eyebrow and tilting his head slightly he met the expectant stare with one of confusion, that only grew stronger as Mr Batista’s –Dave’s – expression changed into one of something very similar to relief and maybe even a hint of happiness.
Come on George, you’re the shrink, it shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.
But his thoughts were interrupted by a lot of shouting and running feet, and as he turned back to the door to peer out at the throng of highly stressed-out people he heard a loud sigh from behind him.
”Would you mind shutting the door? All that bloody noise…”
George blinked and hurried out into the hallway, turning to close the door behind him.
”I’m sorry again, if I-”
”No! I mean, no, you don’t… have to be on that side.”
George froze and blinked owlishly up at the huge man.
”Uh… I mean… If you don’t have anywhere else to be, of course. With all that FBI crap and all… but, uh, you’re welcome to stay here for a while. If you want to.”
His eyes were almost pleading like some overgrown golden retriever and George felt a sudden flutter in his chest. Was he… was he actually… flirting with him?! It was awkward, sure, but what other reason could he possibly have to ask a strange man to stay in his dressing room?
Swallowing thickly against the sudden, unexplainable rush of arousal that thought sent through him he bit his lower lip and hesitated. If he went in, nothing might happen. They might talk, maybe even enjoy it, and then they’d separate and probably never see each other again. Or maybe he’d be fucked for the first time in over seven months…
And to be honest, none of those options were something he would be particularly against, considering the alternative was going back to the precinct and get yelled at by Elliot. If he walked away now, nothing would even get the chance to happen, and if the man had wanted to hurt him, he’d already had plenty of opportunity.
Steeling himself he ignored the desperate hammering of his heart and the slight trembling of his hands as he walked back into the room and closed the door behind him, feeling like he was fifteen again in that hotel room with his much older and more experienced boyfriend and about to lose his virginity.
When George came back into the room Dave’s whole face lit up, seemingly softening the cold iron of his facial structure and making him appear much more approachable. With a last fleeting thought as to what could happen if he’d misread the whole situation he slowly walked towards the mound of muscles in front of him, keeping his own dark eyes firmly set onto the lighter brown ones before him and only stopping when he was as close as he could without having to strain his neck to keep his gaze locked.
”What do you want to do?”
The question seemed innocent enough, but the tension in the room was thick enough to need a chainsaw to cut it, and George licked his lips nervously.
Dave’s eyes narrowed slightly and his voice seemed to sink a few octaves, reaching a more husky, almost growling quality.
”You.”
It was the most clichéd answer in the book, but George couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips at the unexpected spike of arousal the single word caused in him. He was barely able to let out the small ’yes’ he intended, but it was clear enough for the other man to take it as his consent.
Before he could even react he was being backed up against a high table, the edge hitting his back and the knobs of the drawers right behind him digging in uncomfortably. But he needn’t have worried about it, for in the next second he’d been lifted off the ground and placed upon the table top, his legs dangling freely and his eyes suddenly much closer to the other man’s. Stubble rasped against his cheek and neck as hot breath was delivered into his ear with rumbling words.
”Last chance to back out”
Swallowing again George decided to just fuck it all. Fuck being responsible and calm and proper. Fuck being the good little boy. Just for once, he wanted to let loose and not worry about consequences or anything really, other than the large bulk of a man towering over him and making it very clear that he wanted to shove his dick so hard up George’s ass that he couldn’t walk for a week.
He wanted that. He wanted it now, and here, without careful planning or proper procedures. As long as the man had a condom, he was all game.
”Please… I want this. Please. Just… condom?”
Dave grinned into his neck and reached between his legs to pull out the top drawer, showing off a neatly stacked package of condoms in the far back. He even had a generous bottle of lube, and George felt himself relaxing. No way he could have taken that giant in without proper lubrication… unless he was really small for his size. But, no, the tent in his sweat pants told him quite clearly that Dave Batista was very well proportioned for his size. How fortunate for him.
Grinning stupidly and feeling giddy for some reason he reached out and grabbed the square face before him, taking the lead and stealing the first kiss. It was slow and sensual, a soft nipping of teeth against lips as they carefully explored each other, George’s hands softly caressing cheekbones and rasping through short scruff while Dave’s hands still were gripping the condoms and the lube, thick arms awkwardly wrapped around George’s slight form.
With a low growl Dave pushed forward, biting hard enough on George’s lower lip to draw a hiss of pain from him, and used the advantage of the opened mouth to slip in with his tongue and gain the upper hand, kissing as furiously as if he was trying to possess his lover.
The slight show of dominance was enough to send liquid fires through George’s lower body, his legs instinctively parting for the other man, accepting him in between them as if it was what they were made for and George moaned loudly in response to the shallow thrust of hips between his spread thighs.
These clothes needed to get off. Yesterday.
Reaching under the black tank top he smoothed his slim hands over titanium hard muscles hidden beneath slightly damp skin, sweat slithering down the spine of the larger man and making his hands slick as he moved them all over, kneading and massaging the tensed muscles.
Leaning forward he let his tongue dart out; tasting the slightly salty and musky flavour that was pure male, and he felt a slight shiver in response to his administrations. Letting out a wicked grin he lifted the top higher, tightening his tongue into a small point and flicking it over a nipple, rolling the hardening bud around a few times before grazing his teeth over it and gaining a loud groan from his lover for the evening.
So he was one of those men that were hardwired between their nipples and cock. That was surprising; George would have thought half a lifetime being pummeled all over would have lessened the sensitivity of his body's nervous system, but apparently not.
George himself was extremely sensitive all over his body, and once he had actually come only from his lover playing with his nipples and driving him crazy. It had been a very different experience, and one he remembered fondly. That man had been a god in bed.
Dave seemed to snap out of the trance George had caught him in; pulling his shirt over his head quickly and doing the same to George, the silk tie only loosened enough to pull the shirt free from it.
George was secretly glad no buttons had popped in the soft green shirt when it was ripped open; it was one of his favourites and he would definitely not have appreciated returning to the 1-6 half dressed.
The shirt was carelessly tossed beside his gray sweater vest.
The feeling of the spring green and silver silk tie hanging down on his chest and tickling his stomach was oddly exciting and he arched his back to gain more friction from it.
….
TBC