Fic: Say When (J/J, NC-17) Part 4

[bellap74]

Chapter 4 _~ Let words ever be your tease.



Friday morning brings drizzle over London and James yawns his way downstairs, hoping Jeremy has better weather up north. It's the kind of rain that slows a shoot down, not heavy enough to add a dramatic filming edge but present enough to bugger things up. Today, he thinks looking out of the window, is not one for delays; he can't take any more bloody caution or waiting. Once he's had a cup of tea, he starts thinking of breakfast rather than Jeremy but still checks his phone before opening the fridge. There's a new message waiting from hours earlier - It's Friday and I have to drive through a Tsunami. If I'm not killed, I'll be with you by 5! James smiles at the exclamation mark, it seems to punctuate the skip in his chest and he knows it's actually a coward's kiss, can picture Jeremy's finger hovering as his own had the night before. He checks his watch and figures Jeremy will be hard at it by now but sends a quick reply anyway, nothing too distracting but enough to raise a smile. I'll take everything off & put the kettle on.

After a hearty breakfast that he almost feels too excited to eat, James sets about making himself busy. Anticipation and impatience have a knack of making him irritable and if doesn't force himself to focus the day will disappear and he'll be far too tense when Jeremy finally arrives. He sits at the computer and opens the column that he's currently working on, the sentences don't come together any better than yesterday though and he finds himself leaning back with a cigarette and watching the rain run down the window. He can picture the roads Jeremy's filming on, almost hear tyres breaking puddles apart but more than anything he can picture a very wet Clarkson. Shifting in his seat he decides to allow himself the moment, natural laziness lending itself to guilt-free daydreaming; he lights up again and stares absently through the rain outside. He can imagine Jeremy's hair wet and curlier than ever, fine droplets resting on his head, running down his face and falling from those stupidly wild eyebrows. Thoughts of wet lips and the cold slide of kisses amidst raindrops fill his head and James feels restlessly horny. After a while he reasons that a wank might help take the edge off and concentrate his mind, he unzips and slides a hand into his jeans.

Eyes closed, he revels in rain-soaked Jeremy somehow looking down on him, smiling in sly knowledge as James pulls his hardening cock upright and presses against the underside of it. Pushing himself against his own belly, he runs his thumb down and up again, teasing himself as much as the Jeremy in his head, licking his lips and grunting gently in pleasure. He runs his index finger up the shaft and onto the head of his cock, rubbing tiny circles over the opening and imagining the faint graze of his fingernail is actually the edge of Jeremy's tongue. “Ohhh, Jesus,” he breathes slowly and takes an unsteady breath in, “Jeremy, uhhh Jez...” The words send a thrill through him and James moans the name again, more demanding this time as finally he wraps his hand around his erection and allows himself a full stroke; up hard then down slow. He'd always been quite quiet in his self-pleasure, old habits from adolescence hard to break but a particularly desperate session had found him loosened into calling out loud and the resultant orgasm was stronger for it. Since then James has embraced the freedom to be as expressive alone as he is with a partner, groaning Jeremy's name and telling him what he wants as if the hands on him are not his own. He's just smearing pre-come down over his cock and thinking about taking his jeans off when his phone bleeps beside him. The sound throws him back into the real world momentarily and the thought it might be Jeremy forces him to wipe his hands and check it.

Forget the kettle. I'm not coming over for coffee. Don't need it, slept very well last night.

James smiles, feeling a pleasure that makes more than his cock throb. Sexing you to your slumbers. I'll add that to my skills list, he replies. The thought makes him deeply happy and that satisfaction overrides his hands, his hardness softening slightly as he waits for a response.

I did all the hard work! Jeremy insists a moment later, All you did was the talking..

James snorts and shakes his head, Shall I keep quiet tonight then?

The answer from Jeremy is fast, Don't you bloody dare. Have to go, see you soon.

Take care. James sends, meaning much more, then zips himself away. He's feeling giddy now and it's not an orgasm he needs. The night ahead is still the only thing on his mind so he decides to be practical and change his bedding.
**********

The rain in Cumbria is heavy and time seems to drag beneath the dull grey sky, Jeremy stares at the lake beside him and thinks it's a wonder the bloody thing isn't even bigger. He'd hoped to be on the road back to London by now, the planned shoot having begun on time despite the weather and yet it's looking likely that he'll be stuck until early afternoon. Time passes much more quickly when he's driving or talking to camera but nowhere near as fast as when he's talking to James, albeit via text. He'd like to actually speak to him but there's no way to say any of the things he wants to without being overheard and he knows he'll end up waffling or saying something stupid. He steps further back under the pub awning that currently serves as shelter and lights another cigarette, musing that he doesn't mind sounding like an idiot to James any more because he's quite certain that James can translate anyway. In fact the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that he and James have been interpreting for each other for some time. Perhaps that's why he doesn't want plain talking and what now seem like mundane almost clinical demands, the James that everyone understands at face value isn't the whole James at all.

Jeremy wants the side of James that expresses everything, each thought and sensation without tempering it or regulating his language. The one who says 'You utter, incompetent bastard' but actually means 'Go ahead, screw up. I'll still love you' - Jeremy starts, looks down at himself with wide eyes and then out at the water; he's known that all along, he realises, known what James was telling him was hidden behind the words. It's obvious now but James has waited for him to get that, the sodding idiot, without giving him the clue he needed - without letting him hear the real words until he pushed and made himself ready. “You bloody fool,” Jeremy mutters aloud, running his hand through hair that feels far too sparse once wet. Any one of the lines James has given him in that last forty-eight hours would have made things clear months ago - years ago possibly. Yet he's waited, as if these things are supposed to happen by accident or happenstance and shouldn't be rushed. Yes, Jeremy nods and kicks at the awning post, that's it; things shouldn't be rushed. So very James and so bloody wrong; you don't rush into tunnels or bends when you don't know what lays beyond but when the road you're travelling is familiar and designed just for you then caution is just time-wasting by another name.

The rain eases as Jeremy stands watching and wondering, he feels damp and a bit cold but he doesn't want to move just yet. The water gives him nothing back and the horizon is misty so all he can do is let his mind wander and as he does words form, he lets them come and arranges them in his head, storing them safely. It feels almost like he's unlocked a new level on an Xbox game and gained some new, revelatory skills.

Swiping his hands over cool navy cotton, James wonders what it will be like the first time Jeremy touches it; will it be as his back hits the mattress in a heated tussle or will it be as he holds himself above James, hands and knees against the clean sheet. He struggles with the duvet and finally flaps it straight as he tells himself not to be such a bloody romantic, even if Jeremy is on the same page - and James is pretty sure he is - he still won't want, what had he called it? 'Hearts and flowers shit.' James frowns and tidies the bed once more before going downstairs in search of tea; he's thinking of the first time he ever considered giving poetry to Jeremy and that sends him into his office. He takes down a small cardboard box resting on the top shelf of books and sneezes at the grey dust that wafts at him. Sometimes keeping the cleaner out of this inner sanctum seems like a bad idea and he sneezes again as he opens the box; it's not a special one, just the standard from an auction room but it contains a special book. James gets it out and though it's not the most valuable first edition in the world, he handles it carefully because it was a great find and buying it had sealed his acceptance of how he feels about Jeremy.

He'd been at a toy auction, trying to rescue an unplayed with railway set from the attic-fanatics as he thinks of them, the collectors who won't do more than look at it in their special rooms at the top of their stuffy houses. He hadn't got it but despite the disappointment he'd hung around, watched a few more lots come up and then seen the book. He'd thought of Jeremy immediately and one of his recent columns in The Times but also of the way his face lit up when he talked about stories and words and how sometimes his analogies were so spot on. It meant bidding against a handful of collectors and going above the budget he'd set for the train-set but James had been determined to win this one.

He turns the book and runs his finger down the spine of the dust jacket, it's a pristine copy of The House At Pooh Corner and it's been sitting on his shelf for almost three years. He opens it and reads the flyleaf, his own handwriting resting there in light pencil ~
You think that you're Tigger, of course you are,
You say I'm Wol, so it must be true,
But I don't want this Hundred Acre,
I'd rather have one hundred years with you.
A century of you and me together,
Now I've seen through the trees to the Wood,
Is all I would ever ask from you
If ever I actually could.
Just say when and I'll be there yesterday,
Please say when if you could love me too.
I'll never want one hundred acres,
Only one hundred more somethings with you.

The poem and the book had been for Jeremy and yet James has never given them to him because he hasn't been sure what Jeremy would read in them or whether his words are too little or too much. He knows there's a romantic streak in Jeremy, he's an emotional man and easily moved but the bluster he covers it with can be almost convincing at times. James doesn't have the same confidence with his heart as he does with his body, he can read people sexually but he's illiterate in love. He puts the book on his desk and traces the cover illustration with his finger, giving this to Jeremy would be like presenting his heart in a box and there's always been the risk that it would be stamped to pieces.
*********

The relief as Jeremy leaves the Lake District is immense, he's sure it's a very pleasant place, weather permitting, for outdoorsy people like Hammond or even boaty types like James but for him it offers nothing. Very pretty when it's not under a rain cloud but then so are lots of places which also manage to have sun and beaches, frankly so is London in the right places. He scrolls through the playlist on his iPod quickly and Waterloo Sunset fills the car, he feels young and happy and worryingly like James might be Terry to his Julie. Still, singing along makes London feel closer and he beams until his phone rings and cuts through the Kink's second rendition. It's Richard rather than James calling but Jeremy turns the music off and ignores a brief flash of disappointment, “Hammond!”

“Hello mate, where are you?”

“Making my escape from the fish-people of Windermere.” Jeremy says, “It's horrible, they have breathing holes behind their ears and I might actually need one of your stupid Land Rovers with the giant snorkle attached.”

Richard laughs and calls him a twat, “I thought you'd be back by now, Anyway, I'm up in town tonight and thought you might fancy a drink?”

Jeremy frowns and feels a bit awkward, “I can't, sorry mate. I'm busy tonight.”

“Oh.” Richard doesn't sound too put out and starts telling him about his own filming before lamenting the fact that Jeremy won't be able to introduce him to the drunken fun they apparently have while he's down in darkest Herefordshire. “I'll give James a call, he'll come out for a few.”

“No! You can't,” Jeremy snaps and then curses quietly, “I mean he can't - he's busy too. We're both busy.”

“Together?” Richard asks suspiciously, “What and I can't come?”

“Not really, no.” Jeremy says and racks his brain for an excuse, it's not easy because any plans involving two of them are usually open to all three. He tries to remember what shows are on that he can say they've got tickets for but Richard interrupts his thoughts.

“Well where are you going?” It's the wheedling tone Richard uses when he's sure people will give in, “Come on, I'm on my tod, surely there's room for me?”

Blinking against forbidden images, Jeremy tries not to laugh, “There - I - look, I'm sorry. Any other night would be fine but -.”

“Since when have you and James done secret things without me?” Richard teases in mock outrage and Jeremy thinks of the past few days, of last night. It makes him flare in confidence and he answers casually, waiting for the reaction.

“Since you decided to be the straight one.”

There's a long pause and he can imagine Richard's furrowed brow as the words replay slowly in his head, Jeremy counts silently and reaches four before he hears, “Oh - oh! Fucking hell.”

Richard swears some more then laughs a lot and Jeremy tries to concentrate on taking the right junction. Safely on the M6, he interrupts, “Yes all right, I know it's going to give everyone a jolly good laugh. Just don't bloody phone James, he'll feel like he has to say yes to you and my whole evening will be ruined.”

“OK, calm down.” Richard sniggers.

“And it'll be all your fault,” Jeremy stresses.

Richard promises not to call and his voice turns serious, “Did he get you with the sexy talk then? Y'know the poetry and his extra big, massive bowls for your man-boobs?”

“Fuck off!”

“He did, didn't he?” Richard cackles with glee, “James May bloody well seduced you!”

“Shut up, Hammond.”

“Oh God, that's fucking brilliant.”

Jeremy swears and shouts, “Goodbye!” through the laughter, then ends the call, jabbing the phone so hard the hands-free holder almost comes off the dash.

In Hammersmith James potters around, doing very little because his mind can't focus and he feels too tense to do anything manual. He wanders out to the garage and gives the Moto Guzzi a wipe over then comes back in and has a cup of tea while looking at some new bike specs. Eventually he picks up the phone and calls Colin, offers to buy him a pint to make up for yesterday and pops across to the pub. He takes his mobile so that Jeremy can find him if he arrives in the next hour or so but it's highly unlikely and James only intends to have a couple of pints, it's the distraction he needs more than anything. Thankful that's it's relatively quiet, he gets a round in and waits for Colin, rereading Jeremy's texts as he does so - Actions speak louder than words. James isn't sure that's entirely true, actions can be quicker at getting the point across but they lack the detail and the layers that words give.

“What’s that?” Colin says poking the mobile by way of hello.

“Phone,” James sighs guiltily, “and I know what you're going to say but...”

“Rules, mate and your rules at that - no phones in the pub.” Colin pulls it away from him and waggles it around questioningly.

James shrugs, “It's in case I get a call from Jez.”

“Oh,” Colin nods and sips his pint, “and is this an important call or shall we just get the darts out ?”

James starts to drain his beer and explain vaguely what's going on, knowing he can speak in confidence and without any preamble. Colin knows the story from day one, from initial Jeremy longings through to Sarah and Sim and the other non-Jeremys that haven't lasted, so James doesn't need to set the scene. They finish their drinks and Colin goes to the bar for another round and the darts, coming back with the insistence that if beating James whilst he's distracted by Cupid is his only chance, he'll take it. It doesn't help in the first game as James relishes the the chance to focus on something precise, but then he switches from beer to shandy for the third round and knows his game will suffer.
“Are you nervous? Big step from mates to - more,” says Colin.
“Not really.” James says walking back from the board. “It's right, we're just - we go together. I can't explain it but...”
Colin stares at him, “Did you just say you couldn't explain something?”
James laughs and Colin goads him some more, taking his turn but talking all the time about James' ability to explain snow to polar bears and the intricate details of a Cessna cockpit to anyone.

“He might be the first thing I've felt like this about,” James says cautiously, running the darts between thumb and forefinger. “I don't wholly understand electricity or women but I'm pretty confident that with the right books I could teach myself enough to get by. But Jezza's different - I think I'll have to write that book myself as I go along.”
“Crikey, James.”
“Yeah,” James nods and gulps his drink “can't wait to start on the research.”
“You filthy sod!”

James laughs, “I've been waiting for the chance to get in-depth with him for a sodding long time.”

With good company and distraction, James hardly notices the time going by though his phone is under regular scrutiny for missed messages or unheard calls. He's expecting Jeremy by around seven and intending to be home a while before that but he's in the middle of a debate on modern furniture when the clock starts heading for eight and he doesn't notice. Failure with time management is possibly one of his few flaws that gets underplayed rather than exaggerated, he really is quite catastrophic at it which he realises when Jeremy walks across the pub towards him looking confused.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“That's what I was going to say,” James says, “I've been waiting for you.”
Jeremy hums, “Not outside an empty house with curtain-twitchers staring at you, you haven't.”
James stands and grabs his jacket, “No, well sorry about that. I was having a pint with Col.”
Colin raises a hand in greeting and Jeremy nods at him before following James outside, they walk back to the house quickly, James apologising and feeling like an idiot but all the same excited and longing to get Jeremy alone.
**********

The moment the front door closes behind them Jeremy feels much lighter, the house is James' space but it's familiar enough to feel safe and it has them both inside it, alone. He shrugs off his jacket and slips off his shoes then goes through to the kitchen where James is waiting, leaning against the sink with his hands stretched out along the work-surface. Jeremy feels his heart start speeding up and so many thoughts rush through his head that he can hardly stand still. He wants to touch but also talk and yet he can't seem to initiate either.

“You look petrified,” James says and moves forward slowly, his arms still out to his sides. “Come here.”
He pulls Jeremy into a firm hug and it feels so secure and natural that Jeremy wonders why he's never realised that he needed it. After all, James is the strongest person he knows so it's right that his arms feel like they're holding Jeremy up and that those hands will catch him should he fall. Closing his eyes and letting his head drop against James', he hugs back and murmurs his relief at being home. James just holds him, one arm around his waist and the other going up over his back; Jeremy can feel strong fingers gripping his shoulder and he wants more.
“I'm not going to just jump you, you know.” James says eventually.
“I know,” Jeremy nods, “I'm probably more worried that you wont.”

James laughs gently, “In that case, I might jump you in a minute - all right?”
“Yes.” Jeremy opens his eyes and moves his forehead to rest against James' “You feel good, like this I mean,” he says nervously and James pulls back a little to look him in the eye.
“Relax, Jez.”
“I cant, I'm too -.”
“You're thinking too much,” James says and leans in to kiss him gently on the mouth. Jeremy gapes stupidly, frozen by need and so James kisses him again and again. He presses his lips against warm skin in a meandering trail from Jeremy's mouth, down across his face and neck. Nuzzling at the open collar of his shirt he says, “I've thought of doing this for so very long, my hands on you without restriction, my lips on your skin and your taste on my tongue; familiar made new, reality made clearer.”
Jeremy sighs and it turns into a growling groan of relief, “I know it's ridiculous but that makes things easier, that sounds more like you.”
“Thought you'd have had enough of it by now,”says James but Jeremy shakes his head and then kisses him.

They make it to the bedroom gradually, kissing in the kitchen first, pulling at each other in the living room and joining mouths again in the hall.

“I want this so much,” Jeremy says, breathing heavily and feeling a hand working on his arse in a way that has happened in years. “I want you so much.”

“And I would give you anything and everything and more,” James smiles, pulling him slowly up the stairs, “would wrap myself in nakedness for you, no craving has ever matched this, the need for you, greed over you. I want nothing else but to feel the slide of you and to be the answering slip.” He stops outside the bedroom and pulls Jeremy in close by his belt, holding eye contact and lowering his voice. “This is where I close my eyes and reward myself with dreams of you, come inside and become real. Let me bring you to life with my touch and my tongue, with the heat of me, rasp of me, glide and rub-rub of me. I'll polish you with my body until you gleam with perfect sweat.”

“Ohhh, God.” Jeremy groans and feels his pulse pounding in his throat, he's hard as hell and needs to lay down - preferably not alone. “James?”

James leads the way into the bedroom and Jeremy watches as he strips off, lets himself notice the roll of James' shoulders and the strong line of his thighs. He raises his hands to unbutton his shirt but stalls halfway down when James takes off his boxers, he has a - beautiful arse and just having the freedom to think that makes Jeremy's cock throb. He looks down and finishes the buttons, closing his eyes as he fights his shirt off, the cotton clinging to damp, sweaty skin. When he opens them again, James is standing before him smiling, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other pulling at the hairs below his belly button. It could read as a nervous action but James is glowing with confidence and Jeremy can feel his strength from across the room. It reassures him and his hands go to his belt.

“Can I do that?” James asks and steps forward, “Can I undress you?”

Jeremy nods, speechless at the power of such simple words and the way James says them. The request sounds like one he's longed to make and Jeremy can't imagine that he'd ever say no, he wants James to take control and show him how they'll fit together. He knows they will now, that this is meant to be but he can't read ahead to find out how it happens. James kisses him tenderly before he begins, hands sliding slowly down from Jeremy's shoulders to his waist and as he works the clothes off, his mouth goes lower. “Tell me,” Jeremy says and James looks up at him, clearly knowing what he wants.

“My body yearns for you and the mirror that it knows you are, heated and slick like mercury, a liquid reflection of me lies over you and I yearn like nothing ever has.” James says kneeling between his feet, “We are elemental and we can burn bright or sizzle and spit, doused in each other's wetness. My mouth opens to your lips, your fingers, your touch and I want to map you blindly, lick a journey that will become worn into your skin, re-travelled a thousand times beneath a million whispered words.”

“Yes,” Jeremy beams with hooded eyes and pulls James to his feet, kisses him and follows eagerly as he's led to the bed and pushed down upon it. He rolls onto his front so he can look away from the intensity for a moment and James moves above him.

“Your body...fuck-.” James stops suddenly as he lowers himself down, belly meeting back, skin on skin. He tenses his arms and arches upwards, holding himself above Jeremy's prostrated back and swallows a panting breath, letting his head drop between Jeremy's shoulder blades.

“James?” Jeremy says after a few seconds, “What's wrong?”

“Oh, Christ... Nothing.” James insists and lowers himself back down, closing his eyes as he feels the heat seal their bodies. “You're naked and I'm touching you, everything's incredibly, sodding, right.” He presses a kiss to the side of Jeremy's neck, “I just made up words that didn't do you justice.”

There's a long moment of silence, Jeremy settling beneath James' weight and James pressing a long kiss to his shoulder. They don't move more than necessary as if learning each others shape by osmosis, they simply breathe and throb.

“Won't be the first time you've screwed up a review,” Jeremy says quietly and James laughs against him, his breath hot against the wetness he's kissed onto Jeremy's skin.

“Jez, I've wanted you for so long,” he says, “but never as much as this, I've dreamt of being immersed in you but never known your kiss.” His fingers move down Jeremy's sides, slowly and then quickly, pressing in to stop the tickling sensation. “What do you want? I'll give it to you, anything.”

Jeremy shudders beneath him and they buck together, James presses a kiss to the back of his head and hears the way Jeremy's breath catches. It send shivers through him and he hitches himself up a little, kissing Jeremy's bald spot and then settling back down, his hardness pressing against Jeremy's arse and pulsing, the rub of skin making James flare with pleasure.

“What shall we do?” James repeats rubbing his open mouth across Jeremy's back and tasting salt on his lips.

“Uhh, I don't know,” Jeremy moans into the pillow and then brings his head up and turns it as James grinds down onto him, working himself so that his cock gets some much needed friction.

“Do you need fucking?” The question is asked breathlessly against Jeremy's ear as James rocks against him again. “Shall I let myself go and take you, open you up and move in, bite down and thrust into you, fill you and fuck you. Uhhhnn! Make you wonder who we are together and why we were ever two when we move like one, you against the bed and me against you, onwards and rolling in a grunting, groaning show.”

James feels Jeremy move up against him and then hears him groan, “I don't think I'm - I'm not ready for that.”

“OK. Do you want to fuck me?”

“No,” Jeremy says shaking his head, “ I want to hold on to you.”

James rolls off and onto the bed, pushing at Jeremy to move onto his side and look at him. He slides forward so that they're belly to belly and stares into Jeremy's eyes, “You gorgeous bastard, all of this is about you and you can have whatever you want. I just need to know what that is.”

Jeremy closes his eyes for a second and then two, takes a deep breath and smiles slowly as James' fingers come up to stroke his face. “I want to come in the mouth that made me brave enough for this,” he says and then curls his lips inwards as if he's said something terrible.

“Unhn, Jez,” James moans and pushes him onto his back, “Yes - fucking - please.”

James kisses his way down over Jeremy's belly and settles himself astride his thigh, Jeremy can feel the wetness trailed over his leg and then the hardness of James' cock pressed against him; it feels solid and thick and he finds himself longing for the courage to take it inside. The thought of James above him now, working in and out of him, fucking him, makes him ache but he knows he'll tense up too much. His train of thought disappears anyway the moment James wraps fingers around the base of his cock to hold it steady and lowers his mouth down over it. At first that's all he does, hovers a wide open mouth over and around the head of Jeremy's cock but not actually touching, breathing heat onto the pre-come wet skin but nothing more. Jeremy groans and grasps the bed sheet in his fists, desperate for something more. It comes in a sudden rush of sensation, first the flicker of a tongue-tip against the slit of his cock and then the dipping graze of teeth over the head and back before finally, swift and slick, James closes his mouth and sucks. He sucks down the length of him and back again, firm and fast, over and over, making Jeremy buck and gasp, twist and jolt.

He doesn't understand how James knows that this is what he likes, that he wants to be sucked hard and fast in desperation and need. Slow blowjobs are for mornings and lazy days, Jeremy wants to be sucked as if he's fucking James' mouth and this is exactly what James is giving him. He pulls at the sheet more as he feels James start to ride his thigh, grunting around his cock as he sucks and pressing himself hard against Jeremy as he slides back and forth. “Oh Christ, James - ah-huhh - James!”

James moves faster, his mouth sliding down in a hard suck and then back with a tongue flick, down again and a swallow before up, down - up - tongue flick - suck, the rhythm builds and Jeremy looses himself in praise and curses. The bed rocks as surely as if James was fucking his arse and not his thigh and Jeremy opens his eyes to see the hunched way that James is frantically riding him as he sucks. “Fuck, oh, James, your - your tongue it's - uhh - don't stop, don't ever uhh...”

James slips his mouth off and wanks Jeremy fast with his hand, “I won't, don't want to, want to fuck you forever.” He moves himself back and makes a show of thrusting against Jeremy slow and hard, pre-come covering Jeremy's thigh and making the slide smooth, then he lowers his head again.

The heat this time seems more intense and Jeremy feels himself zoom closer to the edge, pleasure zips around his body and James falls again into a high speed rhythm of cock worship. Jeremy's eyes squeeze shut and he's sure the world has turned bright red as he rides the pleasure, his mouth opens and shuts as sounds fall from it. “Fuck, yes, oh - yes. Oh James, this is it, this is me, this is you, uhnn - we are sea, we are sky, what we have this is true,”

It's not until James' rhythm changes that Jeremy realises what he's saying, that words from Windermere are flowing from his mouth and he doesn't have to think about them, they're there for James and all of the verse he's heard makes sense. James rides him harder and works his fist in time, wanking Jeremy into his mouth as he slides his tensed lips over and over the head of Jeremy's cock. “God, don't stop - that's it uhhh, James - Guhh - we're sea and we're sky, nothing between you and I, you - ahh - you reflect back at me what I want you to see...”

Jeremy feels the pleasure spiral in his belly tightly and then the heat burst free, James' fist stops moving and instead he ruts against Jeremy fiercely, “You're it James - uhh - you're all there is for me, ah - .

Jeremy stops as James brings his head up in a loud string of sharp groans, hips thrusting and fingers digging into Jeremy's flesh as he comes hard. Jeremy feels himself tense and as spurt after spurt of hot wetness lands on his leg; he grabs his own cock and takes over from James, wanking himself quickly to an intense orgasm as James urges him on. “Ah! Fuck...”

They lie panting against each other and Jeremy draws James up the bed to hold him and kiss his face. Their hands join where they rest, fingers entwining and they gradually come back to each other.

“That was worth waiting for,” James says and they laugh loosely, “I might have got a bit carried away, sorry.”

Jeremy ruffles his hair and kisses his head, “That was incredibly horny and I expect many repeat performances.”

“You'll get them,” James assures him and sits up, reaching down to floor for his discarded boxers to clean them both up. “Sorry,” he says again as he wipes over Jeremy's thigh.

Jeremy places his hand down over James' and holds it steady, “Did I do that?” He sounds so disbelieving and James looks at him in wonder.

“You really don't get how hot you are do you?” He grins and leans down, kissing Jeremy's willing lips, “Of course you did it, lying there all sexy and naked and saying...” James waves his hand, “You know, that I'm - anyway.”

“I said that you're it,” Jeremy beams.

“Exactly.”

They share some more lazy kisses and murmured appreciation then James insists that they get up and eat. He gives Jeremy his bathrobe to wear and pulls his jeans back on without bothering with underwear. Jeremy hums in approval and pulls him back to hug his bare chest. “You're very sexy,” he says and James chuckles.

“Come on, I'll make a drink and we can see about dinner.”

“Good because I'm starving,” Jeremy says padding down the stairs behind him, “actually I was thinking yesterday that it's food that should follow sex not sleep. We doze off straight after sex and -.”

“I don't,” says James.

“Don't you?”

“No,” he shrugs and heads for the kitchen, “not unless it's the middle of the night or I'm really knackered.”

“Bollocks, you must do.” Jeremy says defensively, “All men do.”

“I'm not all men though,” James teases quietly, not looking round. “I'm it.”

“Shut up,” Jeremy snorts and comes up behind him to deliver a soft kiss to his neck.

James makes tea and they slouch together on his sofa, debating what food to have delivered and whether the fact that they've had sex means that Jeremy can put his bare feet on the coffee table. James maintains that he's never heard of any rules permitting this and the playful bickering turns to tickling and eventually more kisses.

“You're an arse,” Jeremy beams and slaps James' as he goes to fetch the phone and order a curry.

On the way back James glances towards his office and stops, runs his teeth over his bottom lip thoughtfully and fetches the book. If now isn't the right time then he might as well rub out what he's written and put it on eBay. He holds it loosely in his hand and gives it to Jeremy as casually as he can manage.

“What's this?” There's an audible intake of breath and Jeremy's eyes widen, “Winnie the Pooh!” He studies the dust jacket and beams at the illustrations there, “It's in mint condition.”

“I got it in an auction,” James says, “after some bastard robbed me of a stunning bit of Hornby kit.”

Jeremy smooths his fingers over it admiringly, “It's brilliant! Now you've got something good to read in case you sex me to my slumbers again.”

“Actually, it's for you.” James says looking away.

“Really?” Jeremy steps towards him, “You're giving it to me? That's - thank you, James.”

James flushes and mumbles, wanting Jeremy to look inside but nervous in case he does. He manages to make eye contact and Jeremy must see the discomfort because he breaks the atmosphere with a smile, “Do I get a present every time we shag?”

James laughs nervously, “I bought it for you a few years ago, it never seemed right to give it to you before.”

“Why?” Jeremy frowns.

“Open it,” says James and he watches Jeremy do so, watches him read the lightly pencilled words and smile. “See?”

Jeremy shakes his head gently and holds out a hand for James to take, pulls him in close and rests their heads together. “Silly old Wol,” he says gently, “Tiggers never say when, they say now.”

**********

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