Fic: The Real Thing. RPS JM/DB
Today is Jimmy boy's birthday. 43 years! Who'd have imagined?
I've been writing away like crazy this morning to get this out today. Because what better way to celebrate his birthday than with RPS? Sweetie, we mock and hurt and abuse you because we love you. Now many people frown upon RPS and there's the ever present question 'How would you feel if you found out someone wrote stuff like that about you?'. Probably a bit like this...
Title: The Real Thing.
Pairing: JM/DB
Warning: RPS, boysex, drug abuse and slashslashslash. Keep away, kiddies. Unbeta'd because I just finished it.
The Real Thing
He’d flipped his cell phone open then closed it again at least five times now. It was like a ritual. Fill the glass, light a smoke, stare at the phone, swallow the last drop, stub out the cigarette, flip open phone, punch in the numbers, and snap the phone shut as it started dialling. Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap. Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The bottle kept getting lighter as the air became heavier with smoke and nervous frustration.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
What the hell was he thinking anyway? Fucking insane, that’s what this was. Angry with himself he clicked the mouse, and the screen woke up from its dormant state. And there it was, staring back at him with such insolence, such sick and twisted truth that he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kill them for assuming or fear them for knowing his innermost secrets.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
He’d been up all night, reading. Staring at the screen until he felt his eyes would bleed, taking in the words until his head was bursting with the images they conjured. God, was this really how they saw him? How they imagined them? So angry, so hurt, so fucking pathetic. Drowning their need in booze and drugs and then fucking like animals with hate and disgust. It was sick. It was absurd.
It was so fucking hot.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The stories had led him on to the pictures. So realistic he sometimes had to check his brain to be sure that no, that had never happened. He’d never kissed David, he’d never been held by him, he’d never had him fuck him against a wall. None of it was real.
But it almost outdid his fantasies.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
In the middle of reading a story set during those last days on set he’d suddenly realised he was panting and when he looked down his hand was rubbing his cock through the worn jeans. He’d jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over and the loud thump as it hit the floor made him twirl around in panic that someone had seen him. That someone knew.
And how had he not known about this? It was all over the fucking internet. Condemned and frowned at but still there. Everywhere. Some of them were just about the sex. Those he didn’t mind so much. But the ones that seemed to bare his soul, that spit out at him feelings of hurt and sadness and need, those hit him in the gut because they were too fucking close for comfort.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
They couldn’t really know, could they? About the booze that swam in his blood almost all the time or the drugs that kept him sane until he crashed into madness. About the desperate fear that he would never be anyone again, that they would all forget him. About how he couldn’t sleep a single night without seeking release in images of David laughing or looking at him with that glint in his eye that either meant ‘You’re such a joke, Marsters’ or possibly ‘You want me, don’t you?’.
They couldn’t really know. But they had a frighteningly accurate imagination.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The screen going black brought him back and he moved the mouse to open it again. The words were blurry but they were still there. Still there. He was shaking by now, nausea rising in his throat, belly burning with booze and acid. He should go to sleep. He should creep into bed, pull the cover over his head and when he woke up it would all be gone. Every single one of them. They just had to be. Clock showed 9 AM. Sleep. He really should get some sleep.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch…
The phone tumbled out of his shaking hand and hit the floor with a clatter that seemed to echo in the silent apartment. Shit! He pushed the chair back and fumbled around on the floor until his fingers found the tiny piece of plastic and metal. Please let it not have…
“Hello?”
He froze. The voice was low but painfully familiar.
“James, is that you?”
Fucking caller-id. Maybe he should just hang up. Maybe he should…
Slowly he raised the phone to his ear. It felt cold against his flushed skin. “Erm… Hey.”
“Hi.” David sounded surprised. James could hear voices behind him; one screeching and giggling and another asking Dave who it was. Jaime. He felt sweat break out in his palms. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Sorry. I just…” He swallowed. The room had started to spin. Hang up, you idiot. Just tell him you messed up your numbers and… “Ever heard of RPS?”
“What? Wait.” The background noise became muffled as the phone was partly covered. “Jaime, can you take him to another room? I can’t hear a word.” He heard Jaime hiss something then “Jaden, we’re going to grandma. Daddy is “busy” with his boyfriend.” and David growling at her “Don’t you dare using him like that. He’s not a fucking soldier in our war.” There was a cold laughter. “Oh, you’re one to talk. Go out to the car, J. Now! We’ll talk about this when I get home.” “Fine. Go. Spend the weekend with your mother.” A door slammed and he heard a muttered. "Bitch."
“Look, it’s… It’s ok. You’re obviously busy. I’ll just…”
“Relax.” There was a sound like a Zippo lighting up and James tensed. He could taste the tobacco on his tongue, smell the smoke in the air. Of course, that could be because he just finished his own cigarette. “She was going anyway. So, you were saying?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just… No. Forget it.”
“James, cut the crap. I heard you the first time. RPS? Are you kidding me?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He was going to get angry, he just knew it. He hated when people got angry with him. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Why was he always such a stupid fuck? “Did you know?” Like now.
“About RPS? Yeah. Sarah showed me some once. She thought it funny. In a creepy kinda way.”
“She… showed you?” Oh fuck.
“Yeah. Total crap. Something about her and me having a secret relationship or some shit like that. Who the fuck cares.”
“Oh.” Either he’d have to throw up or drink more. “Yeah. Crap.”
“You found some about you, that’s it? God, I bet they have her screwing Tony as well.”
“Erm… sorta. Something like that.” He poured into his glass, spilling some on the table. “Anyway…”
“It wasn’t her? Who was it then?”
He stared at the screen. You. It was you. But now the thought of there being stories about me and Sarah… The need to throw up was overwhelming. Like she ever would have. Like he wouldn’t rather suck Joss.
“James?”
The threesomes were bad enough. And the ones about him passed out and gang banged by the whole crew. Made him feel sick. Made him feel like he could never face them again.
Made him wish it had really happened.
“Jimmy. Are you all right?”
But what had really got to him were the ones about Dave kissing him. Not a fuck-me kiss but the kind of kiss lovers share that mean everything they can’t tell each other. The kinda kiss that makes your throat clench and your eyes fill with tears and your heart sink because seeing it there, written in print, makes you realise you have longed for it your whole life.
“It was me. Right? You found stories about you and me. That’s why you’re calling.”
The words finally penetrated his drunken thoughts and he panicked. “No! No, it wasn’t…”
“It was. Huh, I never even considered that.”
“No. No. I have to go.”
“Jim, it’s all right. I would have been freaked too.”
He swallowed the bile in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just… I never knew.” He threw back the drink and coughed. “And it’s just… you know? And I was…” He clicked on a link and blinked. “God!”
“It’s just fiction, Jim. Lonely women having fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”
That was just… Jesus! And the look on Dave’s face… guh! And his cock was… oh god. This was not right. This was so not right. This was… He let his hand slide down slowly.
“Jimmy?”
Hard. So hard. Just look at those fingers, squeezing his hip. He could almost feel them.
“James?”
Lips touching his shoulder. Hair brushing his face.
“Oh.”
Those dark eyes finally looking at him.
“It does mean something. That’s what this is about. Right? Jim?”
“Goodbye.”
Snap.
--------
David stared at the phone in his hand. The little phone sign going from green to red as it turned and lay down. The picture of Jaime and Jaden that he had as wallpaper popping up, smiling at him. The seconds ticking. The light turning off.
His whole existence going boom.
He sat down slowly and lay the phone down on the coffee table in front of him. That had been… huh. So James was… wow. Which was… yeah. Weird. And… strange. And…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
So fucking arousing.
He stood up and walked into the small office space Jaime used for her work. Only hesitated for a second before turning on the computer. It seemed to take forever before he was able to open the internet, click on Google and type ‘James Marsters David Boreanaz RPS’
94 hits.
Some of them were obviously something completely different, linked together by their first names and a totally different meaning of the abbreviation RPS. But some… He only hesitated for a second before clicking on the first link. As the page popped up he felt himself blushing and he looked around in guilty panic even if he knew he was the only one at home.
He’d known about fanfiction. Joss found them amusing although he sometimes muttered that the writers kept stealing his plots so he had to make up new ones. He’d also known about slash, how could he not with the constant questioning at conventions about their characters sexuality and supposed relationship? And he’d known about RPS. Somehow he’d just never realised those two could be combined.
He stared at the picture in front of him. It was so… But it wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t real. But it was real enough to make him wonder for a split of a second if it was and he’d just forgotten. Not that he’d ever forget something like this. He swallowed. Then he shakily clicked on the link labelled Fics.
Fifteen minutes later he was sweating, lungs aching as he kept forgetting to breathe.
No wonder James had been freaked. The story in front of him was set during the Halloween Convention in London. The author had obviously been there or read a very accurate description because small details that he’d thought nothing of at the time now stood out like a big gay rainbow. Jesus, if he didn’t know better he’d think he was screwing James. And Chris and Tony and Alexis…
Unable to stop himself he tried out other links until he happened upon some kind of a blog system. There he found more and more authors and even groups of people dedicated to making him and James screw like bunnies. And not just them. There didn’t seem to be a single member of his cast he hadn’t slept with and James was even worse. He was like a wanton whore, fucking his way through Hollywood while either drunk or high, desperately seeking comfort or love or just to get off. Such a slut. Some of it made it hard to remember it wasn’t true. It wasn’t, was it?
To tell the truth he didn’t know much about James. He’d kept to himself last year on set, like he felt unsure about intruding on Dave’s turf. David had a feeling he’d been like that on Buffy too those last year. The little he’d met him when he came over for the big Buffy/Angel final kiss he’d seemed very different from the confident man that came practically bouncing on set that second season. He wondered what had made him change. He felt a sting at not knowing, at not having cared enough. Or maybe cared a little bit too much…
James hadn’t seemed openly slutty but then again David had very seldom joined the cast for those Friday night, or more accurately Saturday morning, post-shooting drinking frenzies. The wife and kid had put a stopper to things like that. But hadn’t they sometimes seemed strange, like they were hiding something? Hadn’t he once caught Alexis watching James and then Aly came by and he’d blushed and James had given him a hurt look like…
God! These women were totally messing with his head.
He groaned and turned back to the story in front of him. Once again James was snorting coke and rubbing himself up against David’s crotch. They made him look so fucked up it was hurtful to read. Crying, whimpering, moaning for sexual release to drown the emotional disaster in his mind. Frantically trying to fuck his way to happiness. Not that they treated his persona any better. Not really. Either he was a pathetic cry-baby or an abusive asshole, incredibly cruel and selfish. He shuddered to think that his fans really believed him to be like that.
They didn’t really, did they?
So if the stuff about him wasn’t true then the stuff about James couldn’t be true either, right? Although he was known to have a slight problem with alcohol. And drugs. But who didn’t? He had himself been wasted more often than he could remember, woken up in strange places with no memory of how he got there or who that girl was sleeping in his bed. Again, the marriage had calmed him down in that area as well. No more drugs, no siree. Beer and a joint or two but that was it. He had an image to protect.
James on the other hand, he seemed hung over more than was healthy. And he’d caught him sniffing some stuff up his nostril in the bathroom once. He’d backed out of the room as quickly and quietly as he could. James had never let out that he’d noticed him so hopefully he hadn’t. But yeah, the man didn’t have it entirely under control, that was obvious.
Come to think of it he had sounded pretty wasted on the phone. Hopefully it was just booze. Because the drugs made him feel so miserable.
He blinked. God, these stories had really messed with his mind. And some of those had pictures that were just…
If they made him feel this way, how bad could James feel?
Carefully deleting history and cookies and whatever could provide evidence of his activities he then stood up and walked into the living room, fetching the bottle of whiskey he’d been saving for a special occasion. This sure counted as one. Special indeed. He poured himself a glass and drained it in one go before filling it up again. It burned in his stomach, warming him up but for once that wasn’t what he was looking for. No, this was for something much harder to attain. This was for courage.
Three glasses and half a joint later he finally felt ready.
The phone rang for a long time and he’d almost given up when there was a click and he sat up straighter, waiting for the greeting. It didn’t come.
“James?”
He could hear a hitched breath. Then again. Was he crying?
“Jimmy? I know you’re there. You want to talk?”
Was that a sob?
“You could come over here or…”
A soft gasp.
“I’ll come to you, ok? Is it ok? Can I come?”
Ok, that was definitely a sob. Or a muffled cry.
“Jimmy?”
“Yeah. Ok.”
Click.
----------
He closed his eyes, shivers running through his body, hand curling around his wilting cock.
Jesus!
He’d just come to the voice of David Boreanaz while staring at manipulated pictures of the two of them, naked and fucking, the last story that he’d read echoing in his mind. He wasn’t sure whether he felt satisfied, embarrassed or totally sick.
What he was sure of was that inviting David over was the biggest fucking mistake he’d ever done. He opened his eyes and stared down at the splatters of semen soaking into his jeans, sticking to his fingers. He looked around, eyes struggling to focus. Empty bottles and cans everywhere. Ashtrays filled to the brink. A dusty mirror lay on the stained coffee table.
Jesus fuck, what was he thinking?
But that was just it, he hadn’t. There had been a total brain shut down as it leaked out through his cock, listening to that smooth voice on the other end of the line at the height of his climax. All it had managed to come up with, internally exploding with images of David’s cock slamming into his body, was ‘Want Dave now.’ And so in a moment of post-coital insanity he’d said yes.
He stumbled to his feet, one hand holding up his pants as the other tried to keep his sperm from dripping onto the carpet. Shower. And then clean the place up a little. He tried to remember where David lived, calculating how long it would take him to get here but it was too hard. Shower first, think later.
The warm water felt heavenly as it ran down his tired body, washing away what seemed like days’ worth of sweat, smoke and cum. He probably should brush his teeth. Dropping his head back he let the water hit his face and fill his mouth and he gargled and spit away most of the foul taste. The steam was making him dizzy and he leaned his forehead against the tiles, fighting back the nausea that threatened to erupt.
Food. Food would be a good idea. Couldn’t remember when he last had a decent bite to eat. He tended to forget about things like that when he was drinking. Maybe Dave would like a pizza or something. The everyday thought made him giggle. Jesus, this was surreal. What time was it anyway? It seemed like night but he was pretty sure it had been morning when he called him.
God, why had he called him? How fucking stupid was that?
His head had been filled with thoughts and images of Dave after reading those stories, seeing those pictures. He felt like he would go insane if he didn’t talk it over with someone. And so he’d picked the stupidest choice of them all.
And now he was coming over. David was coming over. The real one. Not some made up shithead who fucked him and then laughed in his face. Not the fake one from the pictures with his nice abs and firm ass and a huge cock pounding into him as he moaned like some common whore. This David was big and handsome as the others but he was nothing like them.
This one had never looked at him like he was anything more than just James.
The ‘Hello?’ made him twist around so fast he slipped on the wet tiles and as he tumbled back the back of his head hit the faucets hard. Dazed he half sat, half lay at the bottom of the shower, the water around him turning a darker and darker pink.
“James? It’s David. The door was unlocked.”
He tried to get up but fell back on his butt. The numbness was fading, slowly being replaced by a pain growing fiercer and fiercer by every passing second. God, he couldn’t let David find him like this. Not like this. The bottles and the obvious evidence of drug use were humiliating enough. But this…
“Jimmy?”
The voice came from right outside the bathroom door. Had he locked it? He couldn’t remember. Please, oh please…
“Jim, are you all right? Jim?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m…” He struggled to his feet but as he straightened up the room started swaying and he grabbed hold of the shower curtain only to have it rip down and he crashed out of the shower, hitting his shoulder on the toilet on his way down.
“Jim? What the fuck are you…Shit.”
“I’m ok. Don’t… I’m o-kay. I’m o…”
Yeah, sleep was divine.
--------------
For a moment he panicked. There were splatters of blood on the floor and the toilet, the ripped curtain only half covered James’ naked body and he knew bruises would soon appear on the abused skin. How the fuck would it look if he had to call 911? ‘Yes, I just happened to discover my former co-worker naked and hurt in the bathroom. The fact that I am sporting a heavy hard on has nothing at all to do with me being here.’
Berating himself for his selfishness he knelt by the unconscious body. The wound didn’t look serious; the water diluting the blood had made the loss seem much more than it really was. It was already down to a slow trickling and David grabbed the nearest towel and pressed it against the back of James’ head. After a couple of minutes he was confident that it had stopped and he rummaged the medical cabinet until he found band-aid big enough to cover the wound.
Ok. One crisis over. Now what to do with a wet naked unconscious man who he couldn’t help staring at in a very un-Samaritan way?
More towels seemed an excellent plan.
Fifteen minutes later James was more or less dry and lying covered up in bed while Dave was damp and tired and his back was killing him from carrying the knocked out man into the bedroom. Grumpy and more worried than he cared to be he wandered into the living room then stopped and quickly turned away.
Oookaaay. Spike was a neat freak compared to the man who played him. Some serious cleaning was needed in here. At least it might get rid off the smell.
Half an hour later he was sweaty, grumpy and the pain in his back had him once again searching the medical cabinet. Jesus. Anti-depressant, anxiety controllers, sleeping pills, pain killers strong enough to knock out an elephant, even fucking Viagra for god’s sake.
And he thought he had problems.
He popped back some pills that seemed harmless enough and swallowed them down with water from the faucet. Then he turned around and quietly studied the shower. It looked awfully tempting, even with the pink water still pooling in the bottom. His t-shirt stuck to his back, his muscles were aching and since it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere soon…
He stripped off his clothes and let the water flush down the blood before stepping inside the shower. God, it felt good. He felt all tension fade away as the water warmed his skin and heated up his whole body. Mmm, so relaxing.
Well, mostly.
He only hesitated for a second, feeling guilty for jerking off in the shower where James had just knocked himself out less than an hour ago. Until the image of the naked body sprawled on the floor, drunken blue eyes gazing up at him, filled his mind and before he had time to think his left palm was spread against the tiles, his right hand working furiously.
What if James hadn’t fallen? What if he’d opened the door and James had still been standing in the shower, completely naked, half turning to look at him over his shoulder? Those big blue eyes gazing at him with all the sadness and loneliness he’d read about in those stories. He would have frozen for a minute and then, edged on by James’ begging eyes, slowly undressed. James would have braced himself against the wall, spreading his legs and lowering his head, just waiting for him. He’d then stepped inside and ran his hands over the slender body then roughly pulled him against him and…
With a shudder he came, his cum hitting the wall and just as quickly disappearing in the flow of water down the drain. He stood panting until the water turned cold and his mind turned colder. What the fucking hell was he doing?
Shaking he stepped out of the shower and reached out for a… towel? Oh great. Hmmm, stained with blood or soaked with water? Decisions, decisions. I’ll take option number 3, sir. Muttering obscenities under his breath he stalked into the bedroom in search of some clean ones, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor.
James was still out cold on the bed and David tiptoed past him and to the big closet. Jeans, ugly shirts, fancy t-shirts, leather pants (mmm…), a blue dress (that better belong to an old girlfriend), underwear (huh), sneakers, boots, high heels (thank god they were obviously too small), a big box filled with… ehem… toys. No wonder he needed all that Viagra. Jeez! Finally some towels up on the top shelf. He reached up for a big white fluffy one.
“Oh, it’s this dream again.”
He froze. Then slowly turned around, folded towel covering his front.
“Hmmm, towel? That’s new.” James pouted, sleepy eyes watching him. “Not sure I like that.” He waved his hand. “Away. No more towel.”
“I’m sorry. I was in the shower and…”
“Oh. Oh! You talk! You’ve never talked before.” James tried to sit up but fell back down on the pillows. “Grunted, but never talked.” He closed his eyes and reached down under the covers. “Talk dirty then.”
“What?” Dave quickly unfolded the towel and wrapped it tight around his waist. “Are you ok?”
“What?” James blinked a few times, then his eyes widened and he pulled the covers up to his chin in panic. “Shit! What the hell are you doing here? And why are you naked?” He froze. “Did we just…?”
“No! No! Why would you…? No! Nothing like that.” Damn, this towel wasn’t nearly big enough. “I came and you hit your head and nothing else happened, ok? Ok?”
“I hit my…?” James felt the back of his head and winced when he touched the sore area. “Fuck. So that’s why it hurts.” He frowned. “And my shoulder.” He paused. “And my ass.” He raised his eyebrow at David.
“Nothing happened!” Down boy. Now!
“Ok.” He sat up slowly. “I’m sure there’s a perfect explanation to why I’m naked too.”
“You were in the shower!” Damn, now he was blushing too. “And you fell, ok? That’s all.”
“Shower? With you?” He indicated the tenting towel.
“No. Not with me. Why are you…? Nothing did… Look, we did not have sex, ok?”
“Ok, ok.” He frowned. “Why do I have this image of us naked and… doing stuff, in my head then?”
“I swear I’m going to sue those women.” He rubbed his face in exasperation. “Remember, you called me about some stories you found? RPS fiction? About you and me… doing stuff?”
James expression went from deep confusion to slow comprehension and then changed into horrid remembrance. “Oh… fuck.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty much it.”
“Oh god. Did you…erm… read…?” He blushed.
“Yeah. A few.”
“And see…?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
James closed his eyes and sank back down on the pillows. David watched him wearily, not quite sure what to do. Maybe he should just go. “Maybe I should go.”
There was no answer.
“Right then. You should probably have that wound checked on and James… eat something, ok?” He walked towards the door and almost missed the low reply. “Sorry?”
“I said, don’t go.” James opened his eyes. “Can you… would you mind staying?”
He hesitated only a short moment. “Sure. No problem. Can I get you anything?”
James blinked. “Bucket.”
“Huh?”
“Bucket. Please. Hurry.” He went suddenly green and covered his mouth.
“Oh! Wait. Where? Ok, I’ll find…” He ran into the living room and grabbed a big glass bowl and ran with it into the bedroom, only just making it.
“Sorry.” James wiped his mouth, breath hitching. “Must be the head.”
Dave handed him a glass of water. “Or maybe the fifteen thousand bottles of beer and whiskey, the million cigarettes and who knows how much coke up your nose.”
He stilled. “Yeah. Maybe that.” He drank the water, not looking at him.
David sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business but… you’re killing yourself, man. I hate to see you like this. What the hell happened to you? You used to be so… happy. And now you’re… Well, you’re a fucking mess, Jimmy.”
James put away the empty glass, then lay still, drunken eyes fixed on the ceiling. Then to David’s horror his lower lip started quivering and blue eyes filled up with tears.
“No. Nono. Shit, Jim, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You’re right. I am a fucking mess. I don’t know why it all went so bad.” He swallowed and blinked, making a few tears run down his face. “I loved being him, Spike you know. But then it just all started getting to me and I just couldn’t handle it any more.”
“What? The fame? It’s not easy, I know that, but…”
“No. Not that. Him. I couldn’t handle him. Spike. He was too much me. He was me. All that pain and loneliness and never being accepted anywhere. And people just laughed, you know. Funny to see him cry, funny to see him beaten up and ridiculed and sinking lower and lower…” He squeezed his eyes shut, face crumbling. “And then they let him… God! How could they do that? How could they do that to me?”
David sat down on the bed and laid a hand hesitantly on his shoulder. “It was just a plot. A stupid plot. You know it wasn’t real. He’s not you. You would never do that.”
“I went home and cried for hours after that. It was just so… God, how can any man do that? How? I had nightmares for weeks, dreaming that I really did… Waking up not sure if it was real or not.” He sobbed, fists pressed into his eyesockets.
“Jesus, Jim. I had no idea.” He wanted to run his fingers through his hair, rub his thumb over that lip.
“And I could feel the others sometimes looking at me like I… like I really had. ‘Very nice ‘acting’, James.’ ‘Watch out for the rapist, folks.’ And laughed, like it was funny. Funny! God!” His fists hit the bed, making Dave jump. His eyes were closed and swollen and Dave wondered how salty his eyelids would taste if he kissed them.
Stop it. Focus.
“Jimmy, no one thinks that. And you’re a really good actor. Just because you made it look real doesn’t mean it was. Those fuckers are just too stupid to know the difference.”
James didn’t seem to hear him. “So I started drinking. More, I mean. I hated that sixth season. I couldn’t wait to get off set and into my trailer so I could wash away the bad taste in my mouth with whiskey. All those kisses and all they did was make me feel sick.” He opened his eyes and stared up at Dave. “I love playing evil but I hate that they made him so loathsome. Made me such a fucking shit.”
“Jim, no. Not you.” Dave sighed. “You are not him. You are a good man. You’re nice and sweet and…” He swallowed. Those eyes were so damn blue and those lips… “The fans love you. Hey, why would they write all those stories about you if they didn’t?”
“They make you beat me up, rape me and then I nearly overdose.” He pouted. “Well, they got the last thing right. I am a fucking junkie.”
“No, you’re…” He stopped. There was a limit to how good an actor he was. “Maybe you have a bit of a problem. It’s fixable. You’ll get over it, I’m sure you will. And they’re not all like that. Sometimes we kiss and make out in my trailer. Or fuck in an empty room on set. Or…”
Blue eyes darkening. Lips blushing.
He licked his own lips that suddenly seemed so very dry. “You know, just kiss.”
“You already said that.” Pink tongue. Licking lips. Moisture.
He swallowed. “I did? Well, it’s important, a good kiss.”
“Yeah?” Shortened breath.
“Yeah.”
God, he was disappearing into those eyes. Falling, falling…
The lips felt so much softer than he’d imagined a man’s lips would. Soft but still firm and they didn’t taste of lipstick or gloss. Ok, so they did have a distant taste of old cigarettes and regurgitated booze but when the tongue snuck out and in between his lips that disappeared in a flash of ‘Oh God, I’m kissing James’ quickly followed by ‘Oh fuck, yes’ as thin arms pulled him down.
When his naked chest touched James’ skin he felt a heat spread from that holy point to the rest of his body. Like fire burning in his blood, turning him on like a switch. His fingers found James’ wrists as his hips found their partner and before he had time to think of what the hell he was doing he was grinding their cocks together and James was moaning into his mouth.
Shocked he pulled back, gasping for breath. “Jesus! Jim?”
“Please, Dave. I’m drunk and high but I don’t fucking care. I want you.” He bucked up, rubbing himself against him. “Just fucking take me.”
When their lips met again it was like everything fell into place. Pieces of a puzzle that had lain lost in distant corners and now they clicked together. Dave’s tongue fit James’ mouth like it was made for it, his fingers folding around a wrist that looked naked without them, his legs wrapping around lost limbs, his cock snuggling against an eager friend.
Jesus, why the hell couldn’t they have seen this for themselves? In his muddled mind he thanked god for the perverted and lonely women of the world. Then James whimpered and he forgot everything else.
He’d never imagined it would feel like this, having another man in his arms. Having Jimmy in his arms. Jimmy who moaned and whimpered and squirmed and thrust and gazed up at him with those big blue eyes that he just now realised had been following him for years. In his dreams, in his mind, in his sneaky re-watching of old Buffy episodes when his wife had gone to bed. Pretty blue eyes, pretty pouted lips, pretty naked skin…
He slid down on the bed until he was only inches away from the cock that stood swaying and proud from the trembling body. James was completely silent, not even breathing and when he looked up he met wide eyes, staring down at him in frightened anticipation.
Well, here goes nothing.
He blew softly and it jumped, the sack scrunching up against the cool air. James sucked in a breath and the muscles in his stomach tensed, making it shiver. Hmmm…
He wasn’t sure where to begin. Truth be told, when it was done to him he wasn’t paying that much attention to detail. It was more a matter of ‘Yeah, yeah, nnnghh!’ and trying not to pull out and spurt over his wife’s face. For some reason, real women didn’t like that no matter how much porn stars whimpered for it. Come to think of it, if Jim did it to him he probably wouldn’t be that happy either.
So… licking. Better start somewhere. Top or bottom? He reached out his tongue and slowly ran it up the shaft and all the way to the tip.
“Oh god! Jesus, Dave!”
Ok. That seemed right. A drop of pre-cum popped out and he caught it with the tip of his tongue, smiling as James whimpered. It tasted a bit like his own, but not quite. Guess Jaime was right about it depending on the diet. It didn’t taste like booze and tobacco though but slightly bitter amongst the salt.
Determined he got to work, running his tongue up and down and around until James was practically crying, shaking hands curling desperately in his hair. Then he let it slide into his mouth, sucking it in as far as he could.
James was arching off the bed, thighs trembling, throat squeezing out whimpers and moans so delicious that David had a hard time not to abandoned his job and thrust his tongue into that gaping mouth. Instead he pushed up Jimmy’s knees for better access and twirled his tongue around his testicles then sucked them in and rolled them like two pieces of candy in his mouth. His nose was pressed into the root of James’ cock and he had a little trouble breathing but the sudden thought that struck him made him forget all things uncomfortable.
He couldn’t, could he? It seemed so dirty. True, he had done it to Jaime a couple of times and she really loved it but he’d never been able to rid himself of the worry that something might still be in there. He let the wet balls slide out of his mouth and looked down. It looked clean. And pink and inviting and just like a tiny alien mouth or something. Without teeth though. Maybe he could just lick it a little?
“Holy fucking shit!”
And maybe thrust in just a tiny bit.
“You… oh… oh… David… I can’t… I’m gonna… Nnngaahh!”
Ok, point taken. He’d never believe those fake pornstars again. Because this was definitely not pleasant.
“Oh fuck. Oh fucking hell. That was so…” James looked down and froze. “Jesus, man. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s ok. Unexpected but…” He sat up. “I’m just going to…”
“Wait, let me.”
His breathing stopped. His heart tried to break out of his chest. His cock felt like it would burst right there and then without even being touched. Because Jimmy’s tongue licking the cum off his face was beyond any doubt the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. When he leaned back, licking the last trace of his lips, looking like sex incarnated with those dark eyes and flushed cheeks and hair dripping with sweat, Dave sucked in his breath and thought that if he died now he would not regret a single thing.
“Fuck me.”
Except maybe not having done that first.
“What? Are you sure?”
“I’ve been jerking off to images and stories about us for hours. They might be good but I’d rather have the real thing. So yeah, I’m as fucking sure as I can get. Fuck me, Dave.”
He blinked. And again. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t remember a single word of the English language. Then Jimmy licked his lips and he realised he didn’t need words anyway. Another blink and the world exploded.
He was kissing him frantically on the mouth and his cheeks and down his neck, loving the slightly salty taste under his tongue. He thought he was quite possibly becoming addicted because he felt like he could never get enough of the smell and taste of James. If he could bottle it up he would make a fortune. He nuzzled his nose into the dark curls in his neck, suddenly feeling a pang of regret of never having done this to the bleached hair. This buzz cut was cute but he wanted to be able to run his fingers through the bleached strands and see them curl as sweat dampened them. To be able to entangle his fingers in them and tug him close as he fucked his mouth with his tongue, or even better, with his cock.
Fingers closed around the cock in question and the sudden heat made him gasp.
“Fuck, Dave. You’re big.”
He pulled back. “We don’t have to… you know. If you think…”
“Just be careful and generous with the slick and I’ll handle it.” James bit his lip, then licked it greedily. “I’m not backing out now when I finally have you.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… let me know if I hurt you, ok?” He couldn’t remember feeling this nervous even when he had sex for the first time. Of course that time his partner had had big boobs, fake eyelashes and her vagina seemed like it had been stretched around the world. Not much to worry about there except getting lost in the vastness.
This was so much different. New territory for sure. Not like he hadn’t had a thing or two stuck up his own ass. And he wasn’t talking about those fun prostate exams. A finger or two, ok a whole fist once, dildos and buttplugs and a banana. It took some time getting used to though and what if Jimmy never had…?
“Erm… you ever done this before?”
James glared at him and blushed. “They’re just stories! I haven’t been pulling down my pants for half of Hollywood no matter what they say.”
“No! Nonono, I just meant…” He blushed even further. “Have you ever had anything… up there?”
“Oh. Well, yeah. Who hasn’t?” James suddenly looked unsure. “You have, right?”
“Erm… maybe a thing or two. Never a - a penis thought.” God, was he five?
“Right. Nor me. No penises here. I mean, no penises have gone up there.” James looked down. “Until now.”
David dropped his eyes as well and they stared together at his cock, which suddenly seemed shy and contemplating whether it should shrivel up and hide. Then James looked up at him and gave him a small grin.
“It looks much more comfortable than a banana though.”
Yes! Thank god. He knew he wasn’t the only one who’d done that.
James rolled over and pulled out the drawer in his nightstand, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Triumphant he dropped a packet of condoms and a tube of strawberry flavoured lube on the bed between them. “There! So… knees or back?”
“Erm…” God, he felt suddenly so very naïve. You could do it on your back? Ok. James did have a very nice ass. It would be great to look down at it and grab his hips and lean forward to lick his neck while he was pounding into him. On the other hand he wouldn’t be able to see his eyes or kiss him or bite his nipples or… “Back.”
James smiled and lay back on the pillows, pulling up his knees. “As you wish. Sire.”
He sucked in his breath sharply as a surge of desire ran through his belly and down into his cock. James grinned and wiggled his eyebrow and suddenly Dave realised exactly what all those fans had seen, what Joss had been trying to make them show without too many words so he wouldn’t shock the producers. What he’d refused to even consider until now.
And it didn’t matter that there was no blond hair or leather coat or that filming had stopped more than a year ago. Except in the light that they could have been doing this for all that time and why the hell hadn’t they?
He slicked up his fingers and put one lightly at the puckered entrance. “Gonna slick you up…” he hesitated, “… boy.”
He thought perhaps James would laugh at him, that it had just been a joke but his eyes widened and he gasped softly and when he pushed his finger slowly inside he thought he could hear him whisper, “Oh… bloody hell!”
It felt surreal. His head was filling up with Angel. How it felt to think like him, to feel like him, to be him. He thought he could almost feel a demon stir in his soul. After all this time and he was still inside him as he would probably be for the rest of his life. And the man beneath him, clenching around his finger, whimpering as he pushed further inside, was his. Just like Spike had been Angel’s in more ways than he’d cared to think off, James belonged to him. And just like Angel had been controlled by his turmoil feelings about Spike, he himself was a slave to James’ hopeful eyes.
He didn’t add another finger until he was sure James was ready. He could feel his cock leaking drops between his legs, screaming at him to just push inside that burning heat but he ignored it. James was panting and squirming beneath him, whimpering mumbled words of his own and Spike’s as if he didn’t quite know the difference. When Dave finally drew out his fingers and ripped open the condom, James opened his eyes and gazed at him like he was waiting for him to complete something that had been started 9 years ago.
He rolled the latex over his straining erection, squeezing down the bubble of air. God, this was really happening. It was really, really happening. More lube, put it in position, then press forward.
All the way in he kept waiting for James to grimace or yell stop or possibly for himself to wake up in his own bed, sweaty and gasping. But this was no dream and James lay there, holding his breath, eyes widening and lips parting as his body took in more and more until he was all the way in and Jesus, he had been wrong. This was the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. Like being sucked into a burning fire, squeezed by thousand tiny fingers. He held still, waiting for the intensity to pass. Then he slowly pulled out, watching the emotions of pleasure play upon Jimmy’s face and paused only a moment before pushing back inside.
James opened his mouth but closed it again, like he couldn’t find the right words, any words. Blue eyes were locked with his as he moved slowly in and out, sliding like a snake. God, this was so good. So fucking good he wasn’t sure he could last long. Already his knees were getting tired, especially the fucked up one, and he shifted slightly before pushing in again.
“Aah! Oh oh oh! God, yes, Dave! Do… do it again.”
He pulled out and thrust in a bit harder and James arched of the bed, hands clutched in fists in the sheets, heels pressing into the mattress. The sight almost did him in. He definitely wouldn’t be able to last long. Picking up the pace he fucked him hard, thrusting into the eager body. James’ cock was slapping against his belly and he leaned over, squishing it between them as he crushed their mouths together.
James was yelling and moaning into his mouth, hands frantically clawing at his back, legs wrapped around his waist to try and draw him further in. He looked down to see Jimmy’s eyes roll back in his head and then he squeezed his own shut again as the waves of orgasm took over his body.
For a long time they lay panting, sweat running down David’s back and dropping from his brow to meet Jimmy’s pooling on his forehead. Their bellies stuck together with cum and sweat, they were both shaking with the intensity and exhaustion.
“Dave?”
“Yeah?”
“Kinda need to breathe.”
“Oh.”
He rolled off, squeezing the condom to the base of his softening cock as it slid out, then pulled it off and tied it up. When he looked back James was watching him with a strange expression on his face.
“That was… good.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That was… very good.”
“Yeah. Like… absolutely fucking amazing.” James licked his lips and he couldn’t help laughing.
Grunting he pulled James into his arms, and kissed him hard. “Yeah, that sums it up pretty nicely.”
He pulled the cover over them and they kissed again, this time slowly and passionately. It felt incredibly right and somehow he knew they would never be able to go back from this. To turn away and pretend this never happened. He wasn’t sure how they would do it but somehow they would make it work. Because no way was he ever letting this go. Letting him go.
“So…” James pulled back and looked at him, uncertain. “What now?”
“Well, first sleep. Then we sober you up. And then we figure out the rest.”
He looked relieved. “Ok.”
Dave kissed him and pulled him even closer. “Or... how about trying out some of those positions we allegedly have done?”
James laughed. “Remind me to send them anonymous feedback.” He reached down and tugged playfully on the erect cock already waiting for him. “And perhaps some suggestions.”
fin
Probably in desperate need of another read over and what the fuck was with all the angst in the middle there? *headdesk*
Ah well, it's only for fun.
I've been writing away like crazy this morning to get this out today. Because what better way to celebrate his birthday than with RPS? Sweetie, we mock and hurt and abuse you because we love you. Now many people frown upon RPS and there's the ever present question 'How would you feel if you found out someone wrote stuff like that about you?'. Probably a bit like this...
Title: The Real Thing.
Pairing: JM/DB
Warning: RPS, boysex, drug abuse and slashslashslash. Keep away, kiddies. Unbeta'd because I just finished it.
The Real Thing
He’d flipped his cell phone open then closed it again at least five times now. It was like a ritual. Fill the glass, light a smoke, stare at the phone, swallow the last drop, stub out the cigarette, flip open phone, punch in the numbers, and snap the phone shut as it started dialling. Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap. Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The bottle kept getting lighter as the air became heavier with smoke and nervous frustration.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
What the hell was he thinking anyway? Fucking insane, that’s what this was. Angry with himself he clicked the mouse, and the screen woke up from its dormant state. And there it was, staring back at him with such insolence, such sick and twisted truth that he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kill them for assuming or fear them for knowing his innermost secrets.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
He’d been up all night, reading. Staring at the screen until he felt his eyes would bleed, taking in the words until his head was bursting with the images they conjured. God, was this really how they saw him? How they imagined them? So angry, so hurt, so fucking pathetic. Drowning their need in booze and drugs and then fucking like animals with hate and disgust. It was sick. It was absurd.
It was so fucking hot.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The stories had led him on to the pictures. So realistic he sometimes had to check his brain to be sure that no, that had never happened. He’d never kissed David, he’d never been held by him, he’d never had him fuck him against a wall. None of it was real.
But it almost outdid his fantasies.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
In the middle of reading a story set during those last days on set he’d suddenly realised he was panting and when he looked down his hand was rubbing his cock through the worn jeans. He’d jumped up so fast he knocked the chair over and the loud thump as it hit the floor made him twirl around in panic that someone had seen him. That someone knew.
And how had he not known about this? It was all over the fucking internet. Condemned and frowned at but still there. Everywhere. Some of them were just about the sex. Those he didn’t mind so much. But the ones that seemed to bare his soul, that spit out at him feelings of hurt and sadness and need, those hit him in the gut because they were too fucking close for comfort.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
They couldn’t really know, could they? About the booze that swam in his blood almost all the time or the drugs that kept him sane until he crashed into madness. About the desperate fear that he would never be anyone again, that they would all forget him. About how he couldn’t sleep a single night without seeking release in images of David laughing or looking at him with that glint in his eye that either meant ‘You’re such a joke, Marsters’ or possibly ‘You want me, don’t you?’.
They couldn’t really know. But they had a frighteningly accurate imagination.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch, snap.
The screen going black brought him back and he moved the mouse to open it again. The words were blurry but they were still there. Still there. He was shaking by now, nausea rising in his throat, belly burning with booze and acid. He should go to sleep. He should creep into bed, pull the cover over his head and when he woke up it would all be gone. Every single one of them. They just had to be. Clock showed 9 AM. Sleep. He really should get some sleep.
Drink, smoke, flip, punch…
The phone tumbled out of his shaking hand and hit the floor with a clatter that seemed to echo in the silent apartment. Shit! He pushed the chair back and fumbled around on the floor until his fingers found the tiny piece of plastic and metal. Please let it not have…
“Hello?”
He froze. The voice was low but painfully familiar.
“James, is that you?”
Fucking caller-id. Maybe he should just hang up. Maybe he should…
Slowly he raised the phone to his ear. It felt cold against his flushed skin. “Erm… Hey.”
“Hi.” David sounded surprised. James could hear voices behind him; one screeching and giggling and another asking Dave who it was. Jaime. He felt sweat break out in his palms. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Sorry. I just…” He swallowed. The room had started to spin. Hang up, you idiot. Just tell him you messed up your numbers and… “Ever heard of RPS?”
“What? Wait.” The background noise became muffled as the phone was partly covered. “Jaime, can you take him to another room? I can’t hear a word.” He heard Jaime hiss something then “Jaden, we’re going to grandma. Daddy is “busy” with his boyfriend.” and David growling at her “Don’t you dare using him like that. He’s not a fucking soldier in our war.” There was a cold laughter. “Oh, you’re one to talk. Go out to the car, J. Now! We’ll talk about this when I get home.” “Fine. Go. Spend the weekend with your mother.” A door slammed and he heard a muttered. "Bitch."
“Look, it’s… It’s ok. You’re obviously busy. I’ll just…”
“Relax.” There was a sound like a Zippo lighting up and James tensed. He could taste the tobacco on his tongue, smell the smoke in the air. Of course, that could be because he just finished his own cigarette. “She was going anyway. So, you were saying?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just… No. Forget it.”
“James, cut the crap. I heard you the first time. RPS? Are you kidding me?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He was going to get angry, he just knew it. He hated when people got angry with him. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Why was he always such a stupid fuck? “Did you know?” Like now.
“About RPS? Yeah. Sarah showed me some once. She thought it funny. In a creepy kinda way.”
“She… showed you?” Oh fuck.
“Yeah. Total crap. Something about her and me having a secret relationship or some shit like that. Who the fuck cares.”
“Oh.” Either he’d have to throw up or drink more. “Yeah. Crap.”
“You found some about you, that’s it? God, I bet they have her screwing Tony as well.”
“Erm… sorta. Something like that.” He poured into his glass, spilling some on the table. “Anyway…”
“It wasn’t her? Who was it then?”
He stared at the screen. You. It was you. But now the thought of there being stories about me and Sarah… The need to throw up was overwhelming. Like she ever would have. Like he wouldn’t rather suck Joss.
“James?”
The threesomes were bad enough. And the ones about him passed out and gang banged by the whole crew. Made him feel sick. Made him feel like he could never face them again.
Made him wish it had really happened.
“Jimmy. Are you all right?”
But what had really got to him were the ones about Dave kissing him. Not a fuck-me kiss but the kind of kiss lovers share that mean everything they can’t tell each other. The kinda kiss that makes your throat clench and your eyes fill with tears and your heart sink because seeing it there, written in print, makes you realise you have longed for it your whole life.
“It was me. Right? You found stories about you and me. That’s why you’re calling.”
The words finally penetrated his drunken thoughts and he panicked. “No! No, it wasn’t…”
“It was. Huh, I never even considered that.”
“No. No. I have to go.”
“Jim, it’s all right. I would have been freaked too.”
He swallowed the bile in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just… I never knew.” He threw back the drink and coughed. “And it’s just… you know? And I was…” He clicked on a link and blinked. “God!”
“It’s just fiction, Jim. Lonely women having fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”
That was just… Jesus! And the look on Dave’s face… guh! And his cock was… oh god. This was not right. This was so not right. This was… He let his hand slide down slowly.
“Jimmy?”
Hard. So hard. Just look at those fingers, squeezing his hip. He could almost feel them.
“James?”
Lips touching his shoulder. Hair brushing his face.
“Oh.”
Those dark eyes finally looking at him.
“It does mean something. That’s what this is about. Right? Jim?”
“Goodbye.”
Snap.
--------
David stared at the phone in his hand. The little phone sign going from green to red as it turned and lay down. The picture of Jaime and Jaden that he had as wallpaper popping up, smiling at him. The seconds ticking. The light turning off.
His whole existence going boom.
He sat down slowly and lay the phone down on the coffee table in front of him. That had been… huh. So James was… wow. Which was… yeah. Weird. And… strange. And…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
So fucking arousing.
He stood up and walked into the small office space Jaime used for her work. Only hesitated for a second before turning on the computer. It seemed to take forever before he was able to open the internet, click on Google and type ‘James Marsters David Boreanaz RPS’
94 hits.
Some of them were obviously something completely different, linked together by their first names and a totally different meaning of the abbreviation RPS. But some… He only hesitated for a second before clicking on the first link. As the page popped up he felt himself blushing and he looked around in guilty panic even if he knew he was the only one at home.
He’d known about fanfiction. Joss found them amusing although he sometimes muttered that the writers kept stealing his plots so he had to make up new ones. He’d also known about slash, how could he not with the constant questioning at conventions about their characters sexuality and supposed relationship? And he’d known about RPS. Somehow he’d just never realised those two could be combined.
He stared at the picture in front of him. It was so… But it wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t real. But it was real enough to make him wonder for a split of a second if it was and he’d just forgotten. Not that he’d ever forget something like this. He swallowed. Then he shakily clicked on the link labelled Fics.
Fifteen minutes later he was sweating, lungs aching as he kept forgetting to breathe.
No wonder James had been freaked. The story in front of him was set during the Halloween Convention in London. The author had obviously been there or read a very accurate description because small details that he’d thought nothing of at the time now stood out like a big gay rainbow. Jesus, if he didn’t know better he’d think he was screwing James. And Chris and Tony and Alexis…
Unable to stop himself he tried out other links until he happened upon some kind of a blog system. There he found more and more authors and even groups of people dedicated to making him and James screw like bunnies. And not just them. There didn’t seem to be a single member of his cast he hadn’t slept with and James was even worse. He was like a wanton whore, fucking his way through Hollywood while either drunk or high, desperately seeking comfort or love or just to get off. Such a slut. Some of it made it hard to remember it wasn’t true. It wasn’t, was it?
To tell the truth he didn’t know much about James. He’d kept to himself last year on set, like he felt unsure about intruding on Dave’s turf. David had a feeling he’d been like that on Buffy too those last year. The little he’d met him when he came over for the big Buffy/Angel final kiss he’d seemed very different from the confident man that came practically bouncing on set that second season. He wondered what had made him change. He felt a sting at not knowing, at not having cared enough. Or maybe cared a little bit too much…
James hadn’t seemed openly slutty but then again David had very seldom joined the cast for those Friday night, or more accurately Saturday morning, post-shooting drinking frenzies. The wife and kid had put a stopper to things like that. But hadn’t they sometimes seemed strange, like they were hiding something? Hadn’t he once caught Alexis watching James and then Aly came by and he’d blushed and James had given him a hurt look like…
God! These women were totally messing with his head.
He groaned and turned back to the story in front of him. Once again James was snorting coke and rubbing himself up against David’s crotch. They made him look so fucked up it was hurtful to read. Crying, whimpering, moaning for sexual release to drown the emotional disaster in his mind. Frantically trying to fuck his way to happiness. Not that they treated his persona any better. Not really. Either he was a pathetic cry-baby or an abusive asshole, incredibly cruel and selfish. He shuddered to think that his fans really believed him to be like that.
They didn’t really, did they?
So if the stuff about him wasn’t true then the stuff about James couldn’t be true either, right? Although he was known to have a slight problem with alcohol. And drugs. But who didn’t? He had himself been wasted more often than he could remember, woken up in strange places with no memory of how he got there or who that girl was sleeping in his bed. Again, the marriage had calmed him down in that area as well. No more drugs, no siree. Beer and a joint or two but that was it. He had an image to protect.
James on the other hand, he seemed hung over more than was healthy. And he’d caught him sniffing some stuff up his nostril in the bathroom once. He’d backed out of the room as quickly and quietly as he could. James had never let out that he’d noticed him so hopefully he hadn’t. But yeah, the man didn’t have it entirely under control, that was obvious.
Come to think of it he had sounded pretty wasted on the phone. Hopefully it was just booze. Because the drugs made him feel so miserable.
He blinked. God, these stories had really messed with his mind. And some of those had pictures that were just…
If they made him feel this way, how bad could James feel?
Carefully deleting history and cookies and whatever could provide evidence of his activities he then stood up and walked into the living room, fetching the bottle of whiskey he’d been saving for a special occasion. This sure counted as one. Special indeed. He poured himself a glass and drained it in one go before filling it up again. It burned in his stomach, warming him up but for once that wasn’t what he was looking for. No, this was for something much harder to attain. This was for courage.
Three glasses and half a joint later he finally felt ready.
The phone rang for a long time and he’d almost given up when there was a click and he sat up straighter, waiting for the greeting. It didn’t come.
“James?”
He could hear a hitched breath. Then again. Was he crying?
“Jimmy? I know you’re there. You want to talk?”
Was that a sob?
“You could come over here or…”
A soft gasp.
“I’ll come to you, ok? Is it ok? Can I come?”
Ok, that was definitely a sob. Or a muffled cry.
“Jimmy?”
“Yeah. Ok.”
Click.
----------
He closed his eyes, shivers running through his body, hand curling around his wilting cock.
Jesus!
He’d just come to the voice of David Boreanaz while staring at manipulated pictures of the two of them, naked and fucking, the last story that he’d read echoing in his mind. He wasn’t sure whether he felt satisfied, embarrassed or totally sick.
What he was sure of was that inviting David over was the biggest fucking mistake he’d ever done. He opened his eyes and stared down at the splatters of semen soaking into his jeans, sticking to his fingers. He looked around, eyes struggling to focus. Empty bottles and cans everywhere. Ashtrays filled to the brink. A dusty mirror lay on the stained coffee table.
Jesus fuck, what was he thinking?
But that was just it, he hadn’t. There had been a total brain shut down as it leaked out through his cock, listening to that smooth voice on the other end of the line at the height of his climax. All it had managed to come up with, internally exploding with images of David’s cock slamming into his body, was ‘Want Dave now.’ And so in a moment of post-coital insanity he’d said yes.
He stumbled to his feet, one hand holding up his pants as the other tried to keep his sperm from dripping onto the carpet. Shower. And then clean the place up a little. He tried to remember where David lived, calculating how long it would take him to get here but it was too hard. Shower first, think later.
The warm water felt heavenly as it ran down his tired body, washing away what seemed like days’ worth of sweat, smoke and cum. He probably should brush his teeth. Dropping his head back he let the water hit his face and fill his mouth and he gargled and spit away most of the foul taste. The steam was making him dizzy and he leaned his forehead against the tiles, fighting back the nausea that threatened to erupt.
Food. Food would be a good idea. Couldn’t remember when he last had a decent bite to eat. He tended to forget about things like that when he was drinking. Maybe Dave would like a pizza or something. The everyday thought made him giggle. Jesus, this was surreal. What time was it anyway? It seemed like night but he was pretty sure it had been morning when he called him.
God, why had he called him? How fucking stupid was that?
His head had been filled with thoughts and images of Dave after reading those stories, seeing those pictures. He felt like he would go insane if he didn’t talk it over with someone. And so he’d picked the stupidest choice of them all.
And now he was coming over. David was coming over. The real one. Not some made up shithead who fucked him and then laughed in his face. Not the fake one from the pictures with his nice abs and firm ass and a huge cock pounding into him as he moaned like some common whore. This David was big and handsome as the others but he was nothing like them.
This one had never looked at him like he was anything more than just James.
The ‘Hello?’ made him twist around so fast he slipped on the wet tiles and as he tumbled back the back of his head hit the faucets hard. Dazed he half sat, half lay at the bottom of the shower, the water around him turning a darker and darker pink.
“James? It’s David. The door was unlocked.”
He tried to get up but fell back on his butt. The numbness was fading, slowly being replaced by a pain growing fiercer and fiercer by every passing second. God, he couldn’t let David find him like this. Not like this. The bottles and the obvious evidence of drug use were humiliating enough. But this…
“Jimmy?”
The voice came from right outside the bathroom door. Had he locked it? He couldn’t remember. Please, oh please…
“Jim, are you all right? Jim?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m…” He struggled to his feet but as he straightened up the room started swaying and he grabbed hold of the shower curtain only to have it rip down and he crashed out of the shower, hitting his shoulder on the toilet on his way down.
“Jim? What the fuck are you…Shit.”
“I’m ok. Don’t… I’m o-kay. I’m o…”
Yeah, sleep was divine.
--------------
For a moment he panicked. There were splatters of blood on the floor and the toilet, the ripped curtain only half covered James’ naked body and he knew bruises would soon appear on the abused skin. How the fuck would it look if he had to call 911? ‘Yes, I just happened to discover my former co-worker naked and hurt in the bathroom. The fact that I am sporting a heavy hard on has nothing at all to do with me being here.’
Berating himself for his selfishness he knelt by the unconscious body. The wound didn’t look serious; the water diluting the blood had made the loss seem much more than it really was. It was already down to a slow trickling and David grabbed the nearest towel and pressed it against the back of James’ head. After a couple of minutes he was confident that it had stopped and he rummaged the medical cabinet until he found band-aid big enough to cover the wound.
Ok. One crisis over. Now what to do with a wet naked unconscious man who he couldn’t help staring at in a very un-Samaritan way?
More towels seemed an excellent plan.
Fifteen minutes later James was more or less dry and lying covered up in bed while Dave was damp and tired and his back was killing him from carrying the knocked out man into the bedroom. Grumpy and more worried than he cared to be he wandered into the living room then stopped and quickly turned away.
Oookaaay. Spike was a neat freak compared to the man who played him. Some serious cleaning was needed in here. At least it might get rid off the smell.
Half an hour later he was sweaty, grumpy and the pain in his back had him once again searching the medical cabinet. Jesus. Anti-depressant, anxiety controllers, sleeping pills, pain killers strong enough to knock out an elephant, even fucking Viagra for god’s sake.
And he thought he had problems.
He popped back some pills that seemed harmless enough and swallowed them down with water from the faucet. Then he turned around and quietly studied the shower. It looked awfully tempting, even with the pink water still pooling in the bottom. His t-shirt stuck to his back, his muscles were aching and since it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere soon…
He stripped off his clothes and let the water flush down the blood before stepping inside the shower. God, it felt good. He felt all tension fade away as the water warmed his skin and heated up his whole body. Mmm, so relaxing.
Well, mostly.
He only hesitated for a second, feeling guilty for jerking off in the shower where James had just knocked himself out less than an hour ago. Until the image of the naked body sprawled on the floor, drunken blue eyes gazing up at him, filled his mind and before he had time to think his left palm was spread against the tiles, his right hand working furiously.
What if James hadn’t fallen? What if he’d opened the door and James had still been standing in the shower, completely naked, half turning to look at him over his shoulder? Those big blue eyes gazing at him with all the sadness and loneliness he’d read about in those stories. He would have frozen for a minute and then, edged on by James’ begging eyes, slowly undressed. James would have braced himself against the wall, spreading his legs and lowering his head, just waiting for him. He’d then stepped inside and ran his hands over the slender body then roughly pulled him against him and…
With a shudder he came, his cum hitting the wall and just as quickly disappearing in the flow of water down the drain. He stood panting until the water turned cold and his mind turned colder. What the fucking hell was he doing?
Shaking he stepped out of the shower and reached out for a… towel? Oh great. Hmmm, stained with blood or soaked with water? Decisions, decisions. I’ll take option number 3, sir. Muttering obscenities under his breath he stalked into the bedroom in search of some clean ones, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor.
James was still out cold on the bed and David tiptoed past him and to the big closet. Jeans, ugly shirts, fancy t-shirts, leather pants (mmm…), a blue dress (that better belong to an old girlfriend), underwear (huh), sneakers, boots, high heels (thank god they were obviously too small), a big box filled with… ehem… toys. No wonder he needed all that Viagra. Jeez! Finally some towels up on the top shelf. He reached up for a big white fluffy one.
“Oh, it’s this dream again.”
He froze. Then slowly turned around, folded towel covering his front.
“Hmmm, towel? That’s new.” James pouted, sleepy eyes watching him. “Not sure I like that.” He waved his hand. “Away. No more towel.”
“I’m sorry. I was in the shower and…”
“Oh. Oh! You talk! You’ve never talked before.” James tried to sit up but fell back down on the pillows. “Grunted, but never talked.” He closed his eyes and reached down under the covers. “Talk dirty then.”
“What?” Dave quickly unfolded the towel and wrapped it tight around his waist. “Are you ok?”
“What?” James blinked a few times, then his eyes widened and he pulled the covers up to his chin in panic. “Shit! What the hell are you doing here? And why are you naked?” He froze. “Did we just…?”
“No! No! Why would you…? No! Nothing like that.” Damn, this towel wasn’t nearly big enough. “I came and you hit your head and nothing else happened, ok? Ok?”
“I hit my…?” James felt the back of his head and winced when he touched the sore area. “Fuck. So that’s why it hurts.” He frowned. “And my shoulder.” He paused. “And my ass.” He raised his eyebrow at David.
“Nothing happened!” Down boy. Now!
“Ok.” He sat up slowly. “I’m sure there’s a perfect explanation to why I’m naked too.”
“You were in the shower!” Damn, now he was blushing too. “And you fell, ok? That’s all.”
“Shower? With you?” He indicated the tenting towel.
“No. Not with me. Why are you…? Nothing did… Look, we did not have sex, ok?”
“Ok, ok.” He frowned. “Why do I have this image of us naked and… doing stuff, in my head then?”
“I swear I’m going to sue those women.” He rubbed his face in exasperation. “Remember, you called me about some stories you found? RPS fiction? About you and me… doing stuff?”
James expression went from deep confusion to slow comprehension and then changed into horrid remembrance. “Oh… fuck.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty much it.”
“Oh god. Did you…erm… read…?” He blushed.
“Yeah. A few.”
“And see…?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
James closed his eyes and sank back down on the pillows. David watched him wearily, not quite sure what to do. Maybe he should just go. “Maybe I should go.”
There was no answer.
“Right then. You should probably have that wound checked on and James… eat something, ok?” He walked towards the door and almost missed the low reply. “Sorry?”
“I said, don’t go.” James opened his eyes. “Can you… would you mind staying?”
He hesitated only a short moment. “Sure. No problem. Can I get you anything?”
James blinked. “Bucket.”
“Huh?”
“Bucket. Please. Hurry.” He went suddenly green and covered his mouth.
“Oh! Wait. Where? Ok, I’ll find…” He ran into the living room and grabbed a big glass bowl and ran with it into the bedroom, only just making it.
“Sorry.” James wiped his mouth, breath hitching. “Must be the head.”
Dave handed him a glass of water. “Or maybe the fifteen thousand bottles of beer and whiskey, the million cigarettes and who knows how much coke up your nose.”
He stilled. “Yeah. Maybe that.” He drank the water, not looking at him.
David sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business but… you’re killing yourself, man. I hate to see you like this. What the hell happened to you? You used to be so… happy. And now you’re… Well, you’re a fucking mess, Jimmy.”
James put away the empty glass, then lay still, drunken eyes fixed on the ceiling. Then to David’s horror his lower lip started quivering and blue eyes filled up with tears.
“No. Nono. Shit, Jim, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You’re right. I am a fucking mess. I don’t know why it all went so bad.” He swallowed and blinked, making a few tears run down his face. “I loved being him, Spike you know. But then it just all started getting to me and I just couldn’t handle it any more.”
“What? The fame? It’s not easy, I know that, but…”
“No. Not that. Him. I couldn’t handle him. Spike. He was too much me. He was me. All that pain and loneliness and never being accepted anywhere. And people just laughed, you know. Funny to see him cry, funny to see him beaten up and ridiculed and sinking lower and lower…” He squeezed his eyes shut, face crumbling. “And then they let him… God! How could they do that? How could they do that to me?”
David sat down on the bed and laid a hand hesitantly on his shoulder. “It was just a plot. A stupid plot. You know it wasn’t real. He’s not you. You would never do that.”
“I went home and cried for hours after that. It was just so… God, how can any man do that? How? I had nightmares for weeks, dreaming that I really did… Waking up not sure if it was real or not.” He sobbed, fists pressed into his eyesockets.
“Jesus, Jim. I had no idea.” He wanted to run his fingers through his hair, rub his thumb over that lip.
“And I could feel the others sometimes looking at me like I… like I really had. ‘Very nice ‘acting’, James.’ ‘Watch out for the rapist, folks.’ And laughed, like it was funny. Funny! God!” His fists hit the bed, making Dave jump. His eyes were closed and swollen and Dave wondered how salty his eyelids would taste if he kissed them.
Stop it. Focus.
“Jimmy, no one thinks that. And you’re a really good actor. Just because you made it look real doesn’t mean it was. Those fuckers are just too stupid to know the difference.”
James didn’t seem to hear him. “So I started drinking. More, I mean. I hated that sixth season. I couldn’t wait to get off set and into my trailer so I could wash away the bad taste in my mouth with whiskey. All those kisses and all they did was make me feel sick.” He opened his eyes and stared up at Dave. “I love playing evil but I hate that they made him so loathsome. Made me such a fucking shit.”
“Jim, no. Not you.” Dave sighed. “You are not him. You are a good man. You’re nice and sweet and…” He swallowed. Those eyes were so damn blue and those lips… “The fans love you. Hey, why would they write all those stories about you if they didn’t?”
“They make you beat me up, rape me and then I nearly overdose.” He pouted. “Well, they got the last thing right. I am a fucking junkie.”
“No, you’re…” He stopped. There was a limit to how good an actor he was. “Maybe you have a bit of a problem. It’s fixable. You’ll get over it, I’m sure you will. And they’re not all like that. Sometimes we kiss and make out in my trailer. Or fuck in an empty room on set. Or…”
Blue eyes darkening. Lips blushing.
He licked his own lips that suddenly seemed so very dry. “You know, just kiss.”
“You already said that.” Pink tongue. Licking lips. Moisture.
He swallowed. “I did? Well, it’s important, a good kiss.”
“Yeah?” Shortened breath.
“Yeah.”
God, he was disappearing into those eyes. Falling, falling…
The lips felt so much softer than he’d imagined a man’s lips would. Soft but still firm and they didn’t taste of lipstick or gloss. Ok, so they did have a distant taste of old cigarettes and regurgitated booze but when the tongue snuck out and in between his lips that disappeared in a flash of ‘Oh God, I’m kissing James’ quickly followed by ‘Oh fuck, yes’ as thin arms pulled him down.
When his naked chest touched James’ skin he felt a heat spread from that holy point to the rest of his body. Like fire burning in his blood, turning him on like a switch. His fingers found James’ wrists as his hips found their partner and before he had time to think of what the hell he was doing he was grinding their cocks together and James was moaning into his mouth.
Shocked he pulled back, gasping for breath. “Jesus! Jim?”
“Please, Dave. I’m drunk and high but I don’t fucking care. I want you.” He bucked up, rubbing himself against him. “Just fucking take me.”
When their lips met again it was like everything fell into place. Pieces of a puzzle that had lain lost in distant corners and now they clicked together. Dave’s tongue fit James’ mouth like it was made for it, his fingers folding around a wrist that looked naked without them, his legs wrapping around lost limbs, his cock snuggling against an eager friend.
Jesus, why the hell couldn’t they have seen this for themselves? In his muddled mind he thanked god for the perverted and lonely women of the world. Then James whimpered and he forgot everything else.
He’d never imagined it would feel like this, having another man in his arms. Having Jimmy in his arms. Jimmy who moaned and whimpered and squirmed and thrust and gazed up at him with those big blue eyes that he just now realised had been following him for years. In his dreams, in his mind, in his sneaky re-watching of old Buffy episodes when his wife had gone to bed. Pretty blue eyes, pretty pouted lips, pretty naked skin…
He slid down on the bed until he was only inches away from the cock that stood swaying and proud from the trembling body. James was completely silent, not even breathing and when he looked up he met wide eyes, staring down at him in frightened anticipation.
Well, here goes nothing.
He blew softly and it jumped, the sack scrunching up against the cool air. James sucked in a breath and the muscles in his stomach tensed, making it shiver. Hmmm…
He wasn’t sure where to begin. Truth be told, when it was done to him he wasn’t paying that much attention to detail. It was more a matter of ‘Yeah, yeah, nnnghh!’ and trying not to pull out and spurt over his wife’s face. For some reason, real women didn’t like that no matter how much porn stars whimpered for it. Come to think of it, if Jim did it to him he probably wouldn’t be that happy either.
So… licking. Better start somewhere. Top or bottom? He reached out his tongue and slowly ran it up the shaft and all the way to the tip.
“Oh god! Jesus, Dave!”
Ok. That seemed right. A drop of pre-cum popped out and he caught it with the tip of his tongue, smiling as James whimpered. It tasted a bit like his own, but not quite. Guess Jaime was right about it depending on the diet. It didn’t taste like booze and tobacco though but slightly bitter amongst the salt.
Determined he got to work, running his tongue up and down and around until James was practically crying, shaking hands curling desperately in his hair. Then he let it slide into his mouth, sucking it in as far as he could.
James was arching off the bed, thighs trembling, throat squeezing out whimpers and moans so delicious that David had a hard time not to abandoned his job and thrust his tongue into that gaping mouth. Instead he pushed up Jimmy’s knees for better access and twirled his tongue around his testicles then sucked them in and rolled them like two pieces of candy in his mouth. His nose was pressed into the root of James’ cock and he had a little trouble breathing but the sudden thought that struck him made him forget all things uncomfortable.
He couldn’t, could he? It seemed so dirty. True, he had done it to Jaime a couple of times and she really loved it but he’d never been able to rid himself of the worry that something might still be in there. He let the wet balls slide out of his mouth and looked down. It looked clean. And pink and inviting and just like a tiny alien mouth or something. Without teeth though. Maybe he could just lick it a little?
“Holy fucking shit!”
And maybe thrust in just a tiny bit.
“You… oh… oh… David… I can’t… I’m gonna… Nnngaahh!”
Ok, point taken. He’d never believe those fake pornstars again. Because this was definitely not pleasant.
“Oh fuck. Oh fucking hell. That was so…” James looked down and froze. “Jesus, man. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s ok. Unexpected but…” He sat up. “I’m just going to…”
“Wait, let me.”
His breathing stopped. His heart tried to break out of his chest. His cock felt like it would burst right there and then without even being touched. Because Jimmy’s tongue licking the cum off his face was beyond any doubt the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. When he leaned back, licking the last trace of his lips, looking like sex incarnated with those dark eyes and flushed cheeks and hair dripping with sweat, Dave sucked in his breath and thought that if he died now he would not regret a single thing.
“Fuck me.”
Except maybe not having done that first.
“What? Are you sure?”
“I’ve been jerking off to images and stories about us for hours. They might be good but I’d rather have the real thing. So yeah, I’m as fucking sure as I can get. Fuck me, Dave.”
He blinked. And again. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t remember a single word of the English language. Then Jimmy licked his lips and he realised he didn’t need words anyway. Another blink and the world exploded.
He was kissing him frantically on the mouth and his cheeks and down his neck, loving the slightly salty taste under his tongue. He thought he was quite possibly becoming addicted because he felt like he could never get enough of the smell and taste of James. If he could bottle it up he would make a fortune. He nuzzled his nose into the dark curls in his neck, suddenly feeling a pang of regret of never having done this to the bleached hair. This buzz cut was cute but he wanted to be able to run his fingers through the bleached strands and see them curl as sweat dampened them. To be able to entangle his fingers in them and tug him close as he fucked his mouth with his tongue, or even better, with his cock.
Fingers closed around the cock in question and the sudden heat made him gasp.
“Fuck, Dave. You’re big.”
He pulled back. “We don’t have to… you know. If you think…”
“Just be careful and generous with the slick and I’ll handle it.” James bit his lip, then licked it greedily. “I’m not backing out now when I finally have you.”
“Ok. Ok. Just… let me know if I hurt you, ok?” He couldn’t remember feeling this nervous even when he had sex for the first time. Of course that time his partner had had big boobs, fake eyelashes and her vagina seemed like it had been stretched around the world. Not much to worry about there except getting lost in the vastness.
This was so much different. New territory for sure. Not like he hadn’t had a thing or two stuck up his own ass. And he wasn’t talking about those fun prostate exams. A finger or two, ok a whole fist once, dildos and buttplugs and a banana. It took some time getting used to though and what if Jimmy never had…?
“Erm… you ever done this before?”
James glared at him and blushed. “They’re just stories! I haven’t been pulling down my pants for half of Hollywood no matter what they say.”
“No! Nonono, I just meant…” He blushed even further. “Have you ever had anything… up there?”
“Oh. Well, yeah. Who hasn’t?” James suddenly looked unsure. “You have, right?”
“Erm… maybe a thing or two. Never a - a penis thought.” God, was he five?
“Right. Nor me. No penises here. I mean, no penises have gone up there.” James looked down. “Until now.”
David dropped his eyes as well and they stared together at his cock, which suddenly seemed shy and contemplating whether it should shrivel up and hide. Then James looked up at him and gave him a small grin.
“It looks much more comfortable than a banana though.”
Yes! Thank god. He knew he wasn’t the only one who’d done that.
James rolled over and pulled out the drawer in his nightstand, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Triumphant he dropped a packet of condoms and a tube of strawberry flavoured lube on the bed between them. “There! So… knees or back?”
“Erm…” God, he felt suddenly so very naïve. You could do it on your back? Ok. James did have a very nice ass. It would be great to look down at it and grab his hips and lean forward to lick his neck while he was pounding into him. On the other hand he wouldn’t be able to see his eyes or kiss him or bite his nipples or… “Back.”
James smiled and lay back on the pillows, pulling up his knees. “As you wish. Sire.”
He sucked in his breath sharply as a surge of desire ran through his belly and down into his cock. James grinned and wiggled his eyebrow and suddenly Dave realised exactly what all those fans had seen, what Joss had been trying to make them show without too many words so he wouldn’t shock the producers. What he’d refused to even consider until now.
And it didn’t matter that there was no blond hair or leather coat or that filming had stopped more than a year ago. Except in the light that they could have been doing this for all that time and why the hell hadn’t they?
He slicked up his fingers and put one lightly at the puckered entrance. “Gonna slick you up…” he hesitated, “… boy.”
He thought perhaps James would laugh at him, that it had just been a joke but his eyes widened and he gasped softly and when he pushed his finger slowly inside he thought he could hear him whisper, “Oh… bloody hell!”
It felt surreal. His head was filling up with Angel. How it felt to think like him, to feel like him, to be him. He thought he could almost feel a demon stir in his soul. After all this time and he was still inside him as he would probably be for the rest of his life. And the man beneath him, clenching around his finger, whimpering as he pushed further inside, was his. Just like Spike had been Angel’s in more ways than he’d cared to think off, James belonged to him. And just like Angel had been controlled by his turmoil feelings about Spike, he himself was a slave to James’ hopeful eyes.
He didn’t add another finger until he was sure James was ready. He could feel his cock leaking drops between his legs, screaming at him to just push inside that burning heat but he ignored it. James was panting and squirming beneath him, whimpering mumbled words of his own and Spike’s as if he didn’t quite know the difference. When Dave finally drew out his fingers and ripped open the condom, James opened his eyes and gazed at him like he was waiting for him to complete something that had been started 9 years ago.
He rolled the latex over his straining erection, squeezing down the bubble of air. God, this was really happening. It was really, really happening. More lube, put it in position, then press forward.
All the way in he kept waiting for James to grimace or yell stop or possibly for himself to wake up in his own bed, sweaty and gasping. But this was no dream and James lay there, holding his breath, eyes widening and lips parting as his body took in more and more until he was all the way in and Jesus, he had been wrong. This was the most erotic thing he’d ever felt. Like being sucked into a burning fire, squeezed by thousand tiny fingers. He held still, waiting for the intensity to pass. Then he slowly pulled out, watching the emotions of pleasure play upon Jimmy’s face and paused only a moment before pushing back inside.
James opened his mouth but closed it again, like he couldn’t find the right words, any words. Blue eyes were locked with his as he moved slowly in and out, sliding like a snake. God, this was so good. So fucking good he wasn’t sure he could last long. Already his knees were getting tired, especially the fucked up one, and he shifted slightly before pushing in again.
“Aah! Oh oh oh! God, yes, Dave! Do… do it again.”
He pulled out and thrust in a bit harder and James arched of the bed, hands clutched in fists in the sheets, heels pressing into the mattress. The sight almost did him in. He definitely wouldn’t be able to last long. Picking up the pace he fucked him hard, thrusting into the eager body. James’ cock was slapping against his belly and he leaned over, squishing it between them as he crushed their mouths together.
James was yelling and moaning into his mouth, hands frantically clawing at his back, legs wrapped around his waist to try and draw him further in. He looked down to see Jimmy’s eyes roll back in his head and then he squeezed his own shut again as the waves of orgasm took over his body.
For a long time they lay panting, sweat running down David’s back and dropping from his brow to meet Jimmy’s pooling on his forehead. Their bellies stuck together with cum and sweat, they were both shaking with the intensity and exhaustion.
“Dave?”
“Yeah?”
“Kinda need to breathe.”
“Oh.”
He rolled off, squeezing the condom to the base of his softening cock as it slid out, then pulled it off and tied it up. When he looked back James was watching him with a strange expression on his face.
“That was… good.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That was… very good.”
“Yeah. Like… absolutely fucking amazing.” James licked his lips and he couldn’t help laughing.
Grunting he pulled James into his arms, and kissed him hard. “Yeah, that sums it up pretty nicely.”
He pulled the cover over them and they kissed again, this time slowly and passionately. It felt incredibly right and somehow he knew they would never be able to go back from this. To turn away and pretend this never happened. He wasn’t sure how they would do it but somehow they would make it work. Because no way was he ever letting this go. Letting him go.
“So…” James pulled back and looked at him, uncertain. “What now?”
“Well, first sleep. Then we sober you up. And then we figure out the rest.”
He looked relieved. “Ok.”
Dave kissed him and pulled him even closer. “Or... how about trying out some of those positions we allegedly have done?”
James laughed. “Remind me to send them anonymous feedback.” He reached down and tugged playfully on the erect cock already waiting for him. “And perhaps some suggestions.”
fin
Probably in desperate need of another read over and what the fuck was with all the angst in the middle there? *headdesk*
Ah well, it's only for fun.