DISCLAIMER:  I don't own any of the characters you recognise from CitC - Caroline, Richard, Del, Annie, Salty et al.  They belong to someone who isn�t me.  I'm just taking them out for a little fun of the type they'll never get on the show.  I promise to return them in the same condition I got them.  Well, more or less.  This story is written purely (!) for personal entertainment, no infringement is intended.  Yada yada yada.

Del/Richard, NC-17

Del has too much to drink.
 
 
Mea Culpa
By Melissa
 
 
 
"What?!"  Richard looked at Salty with undisguised contempt.  "Stop looking at me like that!"

Salty, secure in her own disdain, continued to stare at him.

"You can't possibly be hungry.  I just fed you.  And you just used your litter tray, so it's not that."  He glanced meaningfully at the kitty-litter that decorated Caroline's kitchen floor.

An idea hit him and he looked measuringly at the cat.  "I know," he said, a faint smile touching his lips.  "Maybe you want me to throw you out the window."  He moved threateningly towards the cat.

Salty took off, pausing only to give Richard one baleful backward glance.

Richard settled back into his chair.  God, he was getting to hate that cat!  He would definitely be happy when Caroline got back from that damned conference.  And who ever heard of a conference for cartoonists anyway, for godsakes?

Salty poked her head around the kitchen bench to glower at Richard again.

"Believe me, I'm counting the days," he told the cat dryly.  *And the hours, too...*

He looked again at the cartoon in front of him.  He'd been staring at the same one all day, unable to focus, unable to concentrate.  *Oh, life is good* he thought to himself wryly.  *Life is _very_ good.*

It was all Caroline's fault, he decided with a measure of disgust.  Before he'd met her, he'd been perfectly self sufficient.  Independent.  Happiest when he was alone.

And now look at him!

He was starting to actually *enjoy* the company of other people.  There was *definitly* something wrong with that.  Wasn't there?

And he hardly ever painted anymore.  Not so much because he lacked inspiration, but more because he was afraid of what he might produce if he gave into it.

After all, he was hardly likely to become the most famous artist of the twentieth century with nothing in his portfolio but a thousand and one pictures of one Caroline Duffy.

He shook his head.  *Get a grip, Karinsky* he berated himself.

"And while you're at it, get a life.  Oh, and a haircut and a real job."

Richard's head snapped up.  Did he say that out loud?  Hold on - who -?

Ah.  Del.  Great.  Just the person he wanted to see.  Not.

"Del," he said, keeping his tone even and uninterested.  "How the hell did you get in here?"

Del produced a key with a flourish.  "Caroline never asked for it back," he said cheerfully.  "You know what she's like with things like that."

"Of course," Richard said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

Del ignored it - or didn't notice - and continued, "I just thought I'd catch the game here - my set's completely screwed."  He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.  "I think it's something wrong with the aerial."  He went over to the fridge and started to search through the back of it.  "Actually, I think -"

"That's nice."  Richard said, turning back to the strip.  "Look, Del, I'm not really sure what Caroline would say about you rummaging around in her fridge, and I'm kind of busy at the moment, so -"

"Great!"  Del said, oblivious to Richard's efforts to get rid of him.  "She musta replaced the beer before she left!"

"In anticipation of this very event, I'm sure," Richard remarked witheringly.  "Why else?"

"Lighten up, gloom boy," Del said decisivly, aiming a beer in his general direction.  "And come on!  It's about to start!"

"Oh good," Richard said, doing his best to look like he'd *intended* to miss the beer.  "I can't wait."
 
 

**********************  
 
Well, things could be worse, he supposed.  Watching football with Del wasn't the most horrendous thing he'd ever done.  In fact, it felt surprisingly good to be sitting next the tanned executive, relaxing on Caroline's couch.

"Pass me 'nother beer?"  Del looked at him appealingly.

Richard sighed, realising Caroline's ex had had more than enough to drink.  "Why don't you make it a soda, Del?" he suggested, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.  "I think you've had enough alcohol for one night.  I think Caroline would really prefer it if you didn't redecorate the apartment with vomit."

Del glared at him with all the puffed up righteousness of a drunk who's sure he isn't.  "I'm no' drunk.  And *you've* had a few, y'self, *Richie,*" he said pointedly.

"I've had three," Richard told him, not bothering to hide his irritation.  "And I have a mild buzz.  You -"  he looked abruptly at the pile of empty beer bottles that lay beside the couch.  "You've completely cleaned out Caroline's fridge.  Oh -" he put on his best don't-fuck-with-me face, "and *don't* call me *Richie.*"

"Well...  don't call me *drunk*!" Del retorted.

"I didn't," Richard pointed out.  "That was you."

"Oh."  Del sat back for a moment, thinking this over.

Richard waited.  And waited.

And waited.

Finally, looking closely, he realised Del had passed out.

"Oh great," he said dryly, staring at the ceiling.  "An unconscious ex-fiance, a missing cat, an empty fridge, and an artist bordering on the psychotic.  Caroline's going to love this."  He closed his eyes wearily.  "At least there's nothing *else* that can wrong tonight."

Del made a small noise, moving over to snuggle his face into Richard's shoulder and slip one hand inside his friend's shirt.

"Except for that," Richard said, grabbing Del's hand and trying to ignore the fact that his voice was a full octave higher than normal.  "Uh, Del -"

Del mumbled something unintelligible, and brought his other hand up between Richard's legs, zeroing in on his crotch.

"*Je*sus," Richard croaked, desperatly trying not to notice the fact that he was hard.

Gingerly, he pulled Del's hand away from his groin, praying that Del wouldn't wake up before he'd managed to get them into a less comprimising positon.

"Richard!?!"  Well, Del certainly *sounded* awake.

*There is a god,* Richard thought suddenly, *And he's proved his existance by trying to see just how miserable he can make mine.*  "Del -" he started again, with forced calm.

"What're you *doing*?" Del demanded, staring at Richard's hands - which were holding his with a firm grip; one inside Richard's shirt, and the other on his thigh.

"I'm not doing anything -" Richard said helplessly, wondering just how long it would take for the executive to pound him into the ground.

"Oh."  Del looked almost disapointed.  "Ne'er mind.  Maybe nex' time."  He closed his eyes again and sat back on the couch.

Richard stared at him for a moment.  "What?"  it came out as a squeak.

"Maybe nex' time," Del repeated, a half smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe...  *what*?" Richard asked, dreading the answer.

Del opened one eye.  "D'you really want to know?"

"Yes," Richard said, unconvincingly.

Del opened the other eye, stretched briefly, and sat up.  "Are you sure?"

"Actually, no.  Del, what -"

Del cut him off with a kiss.

Shocked, Richard opened his mouth to protest, and Del instantly took advantage, slipping his tongue past Richard's lips, holding the smaller man gently by the shoulders.

Richard forgot to struggle.  Forgot to breathe.  Forgot everything but the tongue in his mouth and the hands that had begun to lightly stroke his chest.

He found himself starting to respond; returning the kiss with equal fervour and moving his hands up to Del's neck, running them through his hair.

*He's a _man_ for christsakes,* part of his mind kept insisting.  *Stop this, stop it - I am _not_ atracted to _Del_...*

Del pulled away slightly, as if sensing Richard's thoughts, breaking the kiss but not moving away completely.  "Are you okay?"  he sounded strangely sober.

Richard swallowed, his mind racing.  *Ohmigod, ohmiod...  he just _kissed_ me.  I'm _not_ gay.  I know this.  I'm not - ohmigod, that felt good - I'm not - oh, god, it's been waaaay too long -*

Del idly traced a gentle pattern on Richard's shoulder with one fingertip.

Trying to catch his breath, Richard felt himself responding to the caress by moving closer to Del.  He physically halted the movement, and simply stared at Del, trying to regain his shattered control.

Del looked at him searchingly.  "We can stop, if you want," he said softly, watching Richard intently.  "Or not," he moved one hand up to his friend's face, stroking one finger down his jaw line.

Richard felt Del's touch jolt straight down to his groin.  His heart pounding, he forced himself to meet Del's eyes.  "I -" he paused, trying to get his breathing under control.  "I -" he stopped again, his train of thought completely gone.

Del smiled and leaned forward again, brushing Richard's lips with his own.  "I'll stop if you ask me to," he whispered, before moving to kiss down Richard's neck.

"No -" Richard managed unsteadily.

Del pulled back immediatly.  "No?"  He sounded disapointed.

Richard tried again.  "No - don't *stop,*" he said uncertainly, suddenly desperate for Del to touch him again.

"Oh," Del's eyes twinkled.  "Well, that's a different story altogether."  Reaching up, he deftly removed Richard's glasses, and - ignoring the smaller man's startled protest, reached down and slowly unbuttoned Richard's shirt, slipping a hand inside and gently running it over the smooth skin he found there.

Richard concentrated on his breathing.  *In, out...  In, out...  Oh God, am I really doing this?* he wondered, suddenly amazed at himself.

Del moved one hand down to Richard's crotch and Richard gasped out loud, involuntarily thrusting into the hand that was running teasingly over his groin.

He could feel his cock pressing - painfully - against the material of the boxers and jeans he wore.  "Del -" he whispered, not really sure what he was asking for.  "Please -"

Del moved back to Richard's mouth, effectivly silencing him,  "Shhh," he whispered softly.  "We've got all the time in the world."  He began to kiss a path from Richard's neck to his shoulder, from his shoulder to his chest, before latching onto one of his nipples and sucking hungrily.

"Oh *God* -" Richard gasped, the sensation going straight to his groin.

Del moved back for a moment.  "Like that?" he asked teasingly.

Richard just stared at him incredously.

Del chuckled softly, moving to straddle his friend and gently encouraging him to lay back on the couch.

Reluctantly, Richard did, feeling strangely like he'd just signed his own death warrent.

Del caught the momentary look of apprehension that crossed Richard's face.  "It's all right," he reassured him softly, brushing his lips against Richard's.

He resumed his downward journey, pausing only briefly to tongue Richard's nipples, before kissing down the flat stomach and towards the navel.

He looked up, capturing Richard's gaze, before moving his hands to the button fly and slowly unfastening each button.

Richard's breath caught in his throat.

Del smiled - a somewhat feral expression - as he tugged his friend's jeans and boxers down in one movement, freeing his neglected cock.

*Oh God -* Richard had time to think, before Del moved his head down and captured Richard's cock in his mouth - and the world exploded.

Seemingly oblivous to the intense sensations running through his friend, Del kept swirling his tongue around the head of Richard's cock, ignoring Richard's desperate attempts to get Del to take him deeper.

"Please -" Richard choked out.  "Del -"

Del paused for a moment, causing a quiet moan from Richard.  "What?"  His voice was decidedly husky.  "What do you want?  This?"  He moved his head down, at the same time deep throating Richard and pressing a moistened finger into his ass.

Richard bucked frantically as the new sensations washed over him, Del's weight the only thing keeping him on the couch.  He thrust one, two, three times, and came with a wordless scream.
 
 *
 
He came back to reality several minutes later to find himself sprawled limply on the couch, shirt on but unbuttoned, jeans and boxers around his ankes.

Del, still fully dressed and on top of him, had moved up, and was pressing small kisses into the curve beween neck and shoulder.  Richard could feel Del's arousal pressing against his leg and he hesitated, suddenly not sure what to do.

Del seemed to sense his withdrawal, pulling back a little and guiding Richard's hand to his groin.  "S'alright," he reassured his friend, moving slowly against his hand.

Struck by a sudden desire to make his friend come, Richard applied a little more pressure, stroking gently but firmly.  Del's breathing sounded increasingly shallow, and Richard watched him with something approaching wonder.  *I'm doing this to him*  he thought hazily.  *This is because of _me_...*

He swallowed hard as a thought struck him.  Tentativly, he moved his hand away from the bulge in Del's pants, unbuttoned the fly and eased the material down over the larger man's legs as best be could.  Del, obliged him, after a few initial noises of protest, kicking off first his jeans then his boxers so that they lay in a puddle on the floor.

Richard eased him around so that he was on top, and pressed a gentle kiss onto the place where shoulder met neck.  Del moaned softly, and Richard took pity, removing Del's shirt at record speed, and pressing kisses down his body, pausing at his navel.

Del groaned in frustration.  "Richard," he begged softly, "*please*."

Richard looked up at his friend, captured his gaze for a moment, then moved his head down to Del's cock, holding the eye contact as long as he could.

He had a brief moment of disbelief - *am I really doing this?*  and then Del's cock was in his mouth, salty and sweet at the same time.  He swirled his tongue over the head and fought back a smile as Del moaned out loud.  *I'm doing this, it's me, all me, he's like this because of me -*  A sudden surge of boldness had him pulling back - ignoring Del's groan of agony - and nuzzling the older man's balls.  He realised, with some wonder, that he was hard again.

"Richard, please -" Del gasped out.

This wasn't the time for exploration.  Richard moved up for a moment, meeting Del's eyes, and then slowly took the older man's cock in his mouth.  He couldn't manage the trick Del had used on him - part of his mind wondered idly just where Del had learned to deep throat a cock - but he wrapped his hand around the base, and used his tongue on the underside of Del's cock.

Del made a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

Richard sucked harder, moving his hand in time with the rhythm he had set.  Del thrust helplessly into his mouth, and came, hard.

Richard savoured the new taste; salty, and a little bit bitter, but it tasted like Del to him.

There was a brief moment when everything seemed surreal - *what have I _done_?*  and then he was moving up into Del's arms and sinking into sleep.  *Deal with it in the morning*
 

**********************

They lay like that until around nine the next morning, when Caroline, back three days early - due to a ten year old pyromaniac who had paired up with a 75 year old alzheimer's patient - arrived home.

She stared at the two men curled up on her sofa - both buck naked - turned around and headed over to Annie's.  This was either a hallucination or a scene from The Twilight Zone.

Either way, she wanted pictures.
 
 
 
 
 

THE END  
 
 
 
 

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