*waves to everyone who is still around*
It's great to still see people prompting and writing :) We may have lost a few people on the way but we also had some new intake. Thanks for keeping this place alive!
Let's hope that conference season and the next election will help to pick up the pace a bit.
The ususal stuff:
1) All fills for prompts of
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Ed, arm heavy over Andy’s shoulders, was oblivious to Andy’s pains. “I’m sure it’s this one,” Ed said as they passed a door that was identical to every other door along the corridor. “Why aren’t we stopping? That’s my room!”
Andy sighed. “That’s not your room,” he said, gripping Ed’s waist tightly to stop him frantically attempting to make his key card work. “The room number isn’t even similar.”
Ed peered at it. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain,” Andy said with a laugh. “Come on!”
Thankfully, Andy managed to get him back to the correct room without any more distractions. Once they were in, he did his best to lay Ed down on the crisp hotel bed - and found it was fairly difficult to dislodge a Shadow Chancellor who won’t let go.
Somehow, they both ended up on the bed - Ed with one arm around Andy and the other plucking at Andy’s shirt, Andy with his hands trapped between his body and Ed’s belly. Ed, unhelpfully, wriggled himself closer, sliding his arm underneath Andy’s suit jacket.
“You’ve got to let go if you want some sleep,” Andy said patiently. “You’ve got a speech tomorrow. It won’t help if you’re hungover and tired.”
Ed laughed, and the vibrations travelled up from him stomach through Andy’s body. “Says Mr I’m-on-Twitter-until-midnight.”
Andy felt his face flush red, but used the distraction to free a hand and prise his shirt from Ed’s grasp. “It’s nice to know you take so much interest in my career.”
The disentanglement tactic wasn’t working, as Ed had decided to use his now shirt-free hand to stroke Andy’s cheek. And Andy, for a brief second, had to remind himself that Ed was was flaming drunk and that he certainly wasn’t suppose to be enjoying himself.
“You put a picture of your laces on Twitter,” Ed continued, oblivious to Andy’s discomfort. “They were nice.”
“You wore them too,” Andy said, holding Ed’s hand away from his face. “Do you remember that?”
Ed rested his head against Andy’s shoulder. “But you were so proud of them, and I liked you being proud of them, you know?”
An odd feeling rose in Andy’s stomach. When Ed drew his head back and let his half-lidded eyes wander over Andy’s face, Andy realised belatedly what it was - the feel of Ed against him, the way Ed was looking at him, both contributing to the start of that thing. The thing he wasn’t going to think about, ever, because he wasn’t suppose to get aroused at the idea of his best mate…
Jesus. He’d started to think about it.
“You really do have to sleep,” Andy said, suddenly more desperate to get away.
Ed seemed to consider it, his blue eyes momentarily flicking towards the ceiling. “Ok,” he said. “But I was going to ask you something.”
Amazingly, Ed closed his eyes and lay still. Andy took the opportunity to finally free himself from Ed’s warm grasp, and made an undignified shuffle off of the bed.
Ed made a noise of complaint. “I was going to sleep.”
“You should,” Andy said, exasperated. “But not with me on top of you. People will talk.”
“Let them talk,” Ed muttered. But then he closed his eyes again.
Andy left for his own room, an ache in his chest, telling himself on the way that Ed couldn’t have known what he was saying.
~
They drank less the next evening. Andy had his own speech to look forward to the next day, which made him what Ed termed a ‘killjoy’. Although he did walk Andy to his room this time around, which Andy presumed was some kind of Ball-ish apology.
When Ed let himself in, Andy wasn’t so sure.
“I’m not going to let you raid the mini-bar mate,” Andy said, watching Ed shut the door. “I can’t afford those kinds of prices, and The Sun would undoubtedly find out. They’d use some kind of pun on champagne Socialism, and Miliband would have to tell you not to do it again.”
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Andy sat down on the edge of the bed, groaning internally, and kicked off his shoes. “I’m impressed you remember that.”
Knowing that he shouldn’t (but alcohol never did his willpower much good), Andy allowed himself a long look at Ed, framed by the tiny hallway that lead from the door. He hadn’t replaced his suits since he’d been running, and they all fell baggy around the shoulders and stomach now. Andy found it strangely attractive, strangely curious to think of Ed gradually changing shape underneath his own clothes.
“I’m not sure I remember everything,” Ed said. “Do you want to snuggle again to see if anything comes back to me?”
Andy blushed, despite himself. “We weren’t snuggling,” he said. “You pulled me on top of you. Now, did you follow me in here to ask me something or to proposition me?”
“You’re not married,” Ed said, and sat down right next to Andy. Andy could feel Ed’s thigh pressing into his.
Andy looked at him, the suddenness of it startling him. “That was a statement, not a question. And a personal one at that.”
“I mean,” Ed clasped his hands together in front of him and shifted uncomfortably, “why aren’t you married?”
“Any number of reasons,” Andy replied, waving a hand dismissively. “I haven’t had time. I’m a politician, it’s not fair. And you’re not married either. So what?”
Perhaps it was unusual. They were both getting… old. (Andy didn’t feel it, except when he played football. He still felt twenty five years old, until he looked in a mirror.) Ed’s hair was greying madly, something he’d complained about the entirety of the time they’d spent changing for the match yesterday, when Andy had self-righteously averted his eyes from the sight his best friend stripping off his trousers. Andy had told him it made him look distinguished, something Sadiq and Steve had both laughed at. He never said he really thought, which was that it distinctly suited him.
“Look, just let me get this out before the Dutch courage wears off,” Ed said. “You’ve always said you don’t have enough time for a family.”
“Yes,” Andy said cautiously, really looking at Ed this time. Had he drank more than Andy had thought?
“I mean,” Ed looked away, then back, his expression tinged with fear. It was something Andy had rarely seen in Ed. “You’re attracted to women, right?”
“Ed,” Andy said, matter-of-factly, “I’ve had enough girlfriends for you to know I’m attracted to women.”
“Right,” Ed replied, shifting again on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressing more firmly into Andy’s. “Look, and you know I’m attracted to women too.”
“I remember you dating Yvette,” Andy said, more than slightly exasperated, more than half wondering where Ed was going with the whole conversation.
“But I’m not just attracted to women,” Ed finished.
Andy’s first reaction was to admire the way he had said it. It wasn’t blurted out like some seedy secret, but stated directly, Ed’s eyes locked on his.
Andy’s second reaction was to wonder what it meant for him and Ed. His third was to kick himself. This was his best friend opening up to him, something Ed Balls just didn’t do (unless it was about X Factor or Norwich, and they didn’t count). He could at least focus on Ed and what Ed was saying.
His mouth going dry, Andy searched for words. “That’s - well - good for you, mate,” Andy said. “I’m glad you could tell me.”
Then Andy waited for Ed to get up because, surely, there was nothing else to say. And despite the perfect timing, and the guilt in the pit of his stomach, Andy didn’t add anything that - well. It definitely wasn’t appropriate. He wouldn’t want to steal Ed’s limelight.
Ed was still looking at him, and Andy wondered if he was being insensitive. No one had ever came out to him before, not exactly. Was he suppose to give more praise? Was - oh Christ, was Ed going to say he was dating another man who wasn’t him?
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“Well,” Ed replied, “I only mention it because you clearly fancy me.”
Andy stopped breathing, dizziness reeling through his mind. He really didn’t know how to reply this time. It wasn’t that it was untrue, it was just -
“You know that?” Andy said, very very quietly. He had been so careful.
“I figured it out yesterday,” Ed said, his voice ringing with pride. “I knew as soon as you put those laces on.”
“You knew… because of my laces?” Andy said, his voice sceptical.
“Also, you look nice in a football kit,” Ed continued, far more confidently now. “So I must look nice in mine as well, right? And you had your eyes all over me.”
“That’s because you were doing all those stupid poses!” Andy protested. “You looked like you wanted to be in some sort of calender!”
Ed looked suitably crestfallen. “You mean it wasn’t because I looked ridiculously attractive?”
“You - did look quite nice,” Andy confessed.
Ed brightened. “So you liked the poses?”
“I never - “
“But you didn’t want to stay with me last night?”
“Ed, you were drunk out of your skull! And it doesn’t work like that. And how did I know you were doing it because you wanted me?” Then, because Ed looked like a kicked puppy, he added, “But it is nice to know it was deliberate.”
Ed smiled and stroked a thumb across Andy’s cheek. Andy became suddenly and distractingly aware that he could feel Ed’s breath against his face and, a hot thrill running through his body, Ed’s hand on his thigh.
Ed’s face was so close to his own. Shaking with nerves, Andy inched himself forward, their lips almost touching, his eyes on Ed’s the whole time.
Ed kissed him. It was surprisingly soft at first, almost tentative, before it became rougher, more urgent, more Balls-ish. And Ed’s hands were everywhere - stroking across his back, his chest, running down his tie… Andy tried to respond in kind, but ended up with a hand clutching desperately at Ed’s shirt.
They broke apart, and Andy felt good with Ed’s arms around his waist.
“So,” Ed said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “I can stay over here tonight then?”
Ed had said the words half-jokingly, yet Andy could, with his head spinning in fear and elation, tell that it was a serious question.
“I - “ This was it. Andy took a deep breath. “I’ve only been with a man before once. And that was at university. And I was drunker than you were last night.”
Ed’s fingers found the base on Andy’s hair, winding themselves into the strands. “Do you think that I mind that?”
From the need apparent in Ed’s face, it was clear that he didn’t.
“Can’t a man be nervous?”
“I’ll be gentle with you,” Ed said teasingly, running his fingers down Andy’s spine.
“Christ,” Andy arched his back to Ed’s touch, “I hope not.”
Ed’s eyes darted to the squat cabinet that stood beside the bed. “Do you have any lube?”
“Yeah…” Andy replied, a new worry blooming in his mind. “But I’m not sure - I mean - As I said, I’ve never - “
Ed bit his lip, and looked up at Andy with big eyes. It was surprisingly sweet. “I was thinking about you fucking me, actually. If that’s ok.”
Andy’s breath hitched.
“But you don’t have to,” Ed babbled. “If you don’t want to. I mean, look - “
Andy cupped a hand around the back of Ed’s neck and kissed him. Hard. And Ed was taking off his Labour red tie.
He unbuttoned Ed’s shirt with trembling fingers, his eyes moving over every inch of exposed flesh, trying to memorise every curve. And, somehow, Ed soon had him sprawled naked on the bed, their bodies creasing the white sheets as they frantically kissed.
Ed’s lips moved down Andy’s neck, down Andy’s chest, and Andy groaned with arousal as he realised what was coming next.
Ed had the self control to lick up Andy’s thighs first, teasing around the base of Andy’s cock as Andy cursed him.
“Ed, just - “ Andy’s mind was racing enough that this was actually happening “ - please.”
Ed responded by lifting up his head and licking one long stripe up his own palm. Then he winked at Andy.
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Ed stopped just when it began to feel really very good, and Andy protested accordingly.
“You made me a promise, remember?” Ed replied, aiming a cocky grin in Andy’s direction. “Or something like that.”
Andy could only nod breathlessly in response.
Ed kissed Andy long and hard, and Andy could taste himself on Ed’s lips. Then he gave Andy that look again. “Please?”
Andy just nodded again, a lump in his throat at the idea of Ed Balls begging, and fished in his suitcase for the lube. His shaking hands made the damn search even longer than he would ever have wanted, but the sight of Ed lying across his bed when he turned back, stroking his own cock with a smile plastered across his face, almost made the frustration worthwhile.
“I can talk you through it,” Ed said.
Andy shook his head and squeezed a blob of lube onto his fingers. “I think I know how this is done.”
He loved watching the relief spread across Ed’s face as he eased a finger inside him. Soon it was followed by a second finger, then a third. When Ed begged for Andy to hurry up and just fuck him already, Andy felt a rush of power and joy and fucking want. And then he obliged.
He eased his cock inside Ed slowly, scared despite Ed’s reassurances that he might hurt him in some way. Yet Ed reacted vocally, his eyes fixed on Andy the entire time.
Ed Balls underneath him, pressing his head back into the pillows and muffling his own cries, was a vision Andy had only seen before in his most guilty moments alone with his hand and his imagination. And yet, with Ed bucking his hips and squirming into the sheets, and with Andy’s hand clasped around Ed’s cock, it felt better than Andy had ever dared imagine.
Ed kissed Andy when he came, mewling into Andy’s mouth, shuddering in the sheets beneath him. The sight of it was enough to push Andy over the edge a few moments later, gasping as Ed held him.
Once they’d both cleaned themselves up, Ed flopped into the bed, holding open the covers for Andy to follow. Andy, feeling a predictable wave of fatigue, snuggled into Ed’s naked warmth gratefully, cocooning the duvet around them.
Ed kissed Andy on the cheek, “Now who’s going to be tired for their speech?”
“Keep me awake any longer and I’m making another squeezed middle joke,” Andy muttered sleepily, feeling the aforementioned middle pressing into the small of his back.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Ed said, “or I’ll make a small towel joke about you next year.”
Andy wanted to say he was nowhere near stupid enough to change under a towel near cameras, but he had a feeling that Ed would take it as a challenge. He wound his fingers into Ed’s instead. “You’ll be here tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here as long as you want,” Ed replied, kissing the back of Andy’s neck this time.
A warmth glowing in his chest, Andy settled down to sleep.
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and found it was fairly difficult to dislodge a Shadow Chancellor who won’t let go.
XD
Andy left for his own room, an ache in his chest, telling himself on the way that Ed couldn’t have known what he was saying.
~feels
Although he did walk Andy to his room this time around, which Andy presumed was some kind of Ball-ish apology.
That sounds pretty accurate as a Ball-ish apology.
Was he suppose to give more praise? Was - oh Christ, was Ed going to say he was dating another man who wasn’t him?
Oh Andy...
“Also, you look nice in a football kit,” Ed continued, far more confidently now. “So I must look nice in mine as well, right?”
XD That's Ed Balls logic right there! I actually laughed out loud.
“I’ll be gentle with you,” Ed said teasingly, running his fingers down Andy’s spine.
“Christ,” Andy arched his back to Ed’s touch, “I hope not.”/i>
Nngh hot damn!
Such a fantastic fic. That was the perfect combination of sweet and hot <3
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