fic: loving days (belong together), chapters 13 & 14 of 15
Almost done...
Title: Loving Days (Belong Together) (chapters 13 & 14 of 15) (chapters 11 &12 here) (chapters 9 & 10 here) (chapter 8 here) (chapter 7 here) (chapters 4-6 here) (chapters 1-3 here)
Rating: NC-17 overall; see warnings; but PG for this part
Word Count: 3,891 for this part
Warnings: themes of previous (not in this installment; happened ( Read more... )
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“Oh…thank you. James, I-you know I want you. I mean…no, I shouldn’t say that, should I? Because you do know how much I want you. Please don’t do this for me.”
James rolls his eyes. Takes a step closer, so they’re sharing each other’s space, now, breathing the same air, traces of heat and lemon dish soap and expectation. “I’m not doing it for you. Or, well, partly, I suppose. Because we both want to. I told you that I did, before, um, before everything. And that hasn’t gone away. And if it helps, I didn’t necessarily mean we had to do things tonight. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!”
“Sorry-”
“James.”
“S-all right, then, I won’t. And I won’t apologize for wanting you, either. Or…” He has to look away from those eyes, so painfully caught between worry and desire, for the next few words. Stares down at the floor, so unhelpfully flat and glossy, instead. “Or do you not want to? Is this-not how you wanted things to go? Too soon?”
“Oh,” Michael breathes, “oh, no, James, please-” and his voice cracks, at which James has to look up again. And Michael says, “Fuck,” and then puts both hands on James’s shoulders, and they’re warm and lingeringly damp and large and James could be scared, but he isn’t. Not at all.
“Can I kiss you,” Michael asks, voice still uneven, as if he thinks that the answer might be no, as if he expects the world to split apart around them at the words but needs to know in spite of everything. “Please?”
“Of course yes-”
That reply gets cut off, as Michael tugs him in closer, arms wrapping around his back, and those lips are everywhere, insistent and determined, but careful, too, through everything. Holding back, James thinks, and tips his head further back, hands pulling Michael down against him, and Michael makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan of desire and bites lightly into James’s lower lip, and then instantly licks the tender spot in unspoken apology.
James considers this for a second, and then nibbles right back. Michael’s lips taste like peanut butter, he decides, or maybe that’s only from the cookies, but either way this might be his new favorite dessert.
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And also James made cookies. And then sex happens.
You know, if this was the actual result of making cookies, I would make cookies more often... ;)
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...I think we have pre-made chocolate-chip cookie dough in the refrigerator, in fact! Courtesy of my parents, who give us the most random things. But right now that means I can make cookies. Which is NOT a bad euphemism for anything else! :-p
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Of course it's not! *g* (Although I think may now adopt it as my new favourite bad euphemism!)
And peanut-butter cookies have turned out to be the only way in which I will consume peanut-butter!
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...and, I feel like many (not all) things become better in cookie form. Like, oh, oatmeal, perhaps!
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And oatmeal and raisin cookies are yum! :)
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...also, I'm totally writing porn (well--very tender first-time real sex) while keeping an eye on cookies in the oven. I feel as if this is a perfect afternoon.
Also also, I see that you have posted fic! I am now very torn. Finish this scene...which the boys'd probably appreciate...or read your fic...
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And that does sound like a lovely afternoon! (Totally finish the porn - my fic will wait!)
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I'm attempting to connect all the fluffy first bits to the porn, now. There's a lot of both--the fluff and the porn. Sigh.
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“Um,” Michael says, “I’ve never done this before, so, tell me if you don’t like anything, or if you want anything else, all right? Please?”
“What-”
That question ends instantly, as Michael leans forward and licks the tip of James’s eager cock, and then takes a deep breath and opens his mouth and takes James inside.
“Oh my god,” James gets out, and Michael pauses and looks up, and James tries to keep talking and ends up just making encouragingly wordless sounds.
Michael grins. Goes back to what he’s been doing. And clearly he’s a fast learner, and very attentive, because within a very few minutes he’s evidently memorized all the specific motions and rhythms and pressures that make James gasp and moan and writhe against the sheets. And then he does them continuously. Without stopping.
James wants to scream, doesn’t have the air, and settles for tapping Michael’s shoulder, a little desperately.
Michael stops immediately. Sits up. “Was that-”
“Oh, fuck,” James says, helplessly, “you’re wonderful,” and Michael laughs. “I think you mean you are. Seriously, though, that was all right? You did stop me.”
“Yes,” James informs him, “because I’m pretty sure I’m about to have the best orgasm of my life, if you touch me one more time,” and Michael laughs again, sounding slightly relieved, and then grins, suspiciously innocent. “Really…”
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And friends are important (more important than my fic, anyway!) :) (And actually, I'm glad - I was a little bit worried that you were suddenly feeling ill again or something!)
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...excellent. Hopefully the rest will work equally as well--certainly James is enjoying himself...and, well, Michael's last comment suggests that he has plans...
Friends are important, but so's your fic! (I'll find time to leave you a better comment sometime this weekend, I promise!) And also thank you. *appreciates concern* But I do seem to be fine, now, as far as I can tell...I mean, not going out and having wild parties or anything, but I feel much more like the healthy version of me! :-)
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