July 20th, 2005
|dream_aloud||10:41 pm - Fic|
Title: London Calling
Pairing: Jake Shears/Anderson Cooper
Info: Anderson heads out to report on the London tragedy, Jake is on the Euro tour. Cue the swanky background music. For some people who might, sadly, not know who Anderson is, go here. I've also put a pic under the cut.
Enjoy and if you like them I'm posting more at my LJ tomorrow.
My driver must have some idea of what I look like, waving the sign with my name frantically in my direction minutes after I deboard the plane. He’s young, eager and insists on carrying one of my bags, smiling as he leads the way through the airport.
When we toss the luggage into the back of the car with its inky tinted windows the fatigue begins to grip me. Rising through the pavement, grasping my calves and turning my feet to lead.
The nature of field pieces makes me feel shame for my enthusiasm. Somewhere there's always a disaster, people are dead and dying. I get a phone call, marching orders and a road crew. I get shoved on a plane and I used to get peanuts, what happened to the peanuts?
I’m in the slick, leather back seat with a toss of my body, immediately slamming the door and thankful for the small comfort of a divider between the front and back sections--I can sleep on the way to the hotel without being observed.
At first I think I’m seeing things, a flash of color in the corner of my right eye, but my vision isn’t faulty. Jake has removed his white hat with a quick hand and now turns to face me, grinning his victory at my body’s startled jump.
“Boo.” He greets.
“You scared the shit out of me.” He’s so unexpected. I don’t care that he snuck into my car or made my heart leap. “C’mere.” He falls into me, arms wrapping and squeezing, throat humming.
“I thought you’d be showing up to cover this terrible mess, glad I found you.” He smells of some new european cologne and himself, warm and familiar. Our car speeds away from the curb, small and energetic.
“I miss you in New York.” I murmur into his collar, releasing him before he does me, a kiss pressed to my cheek. Jake and I are frequently together. Shopping, movies, dinners, shows and plays. I don’t find comfort with other people frequently--I have it with him.
“Tour is a bitch but I love it, I’ll be back home soon.”
“Thank God, I need new shirts and it’s not the same buying stuff without you.” His eyes bulge approvingly, grin spreading. An emergency vehicle whirs past us, siren wailing.
“You look sharp as ever though.” He tugs my shirt, looking me over slowly. It’s been about a minute and the air is thick with our tension. A well worn build up of untouched and tantalizing possibility. Maybe it’s been too much time, maybe we passed that chance up forever ago. He was involved and we made some unspoken and mutual agreement not to go there. Won’t stop us from looking, longing, enjoying the mutual tingle of lust we’ve been exploiting for years.
“Your hair got long.” I remark, replacing his white fedora on his head. “Come back to my room?” He laughs, adjusting his hat.
“I’d never say no to you, beautiful.”
He orders room service and I’m hungry but way too tired to even work my jaws. I get down to a set of shorts and old shirt, chest mashed to the bed while he takes the tray of wine and snacks from the waiter.
He lays beside me, popping blueberries into his mouth and pouring two thick glasses of red wine. Our arms hang over the side of the bed as we sip in silence, Jake’s delicate gestures feeding himself.
Small talk and catching up is done in about a half hour. He’s buying a house in London, I’m buying a new apartment. Ana has new tattoos and my dog has started greying in the face.
“I don’t mean to be a poor host.” I grumble after a conversational break, dropping my soon empty glass onto the tray he’s moved to the floor. “But I think I have to get up in like five hours or something.”
“Aw, of course. Don’t let me keep you up.”
I don’t want him to go. On some occasions we’ve napped together, high and tangled like a knot on my couch. He’ll come to me for it sometimes without speaking, just lazy non-committal kissing and a need I can fill. Gladly, never a problem.
I’m staring through weary and liquored eyes at his neck. A steady pulse is thumping out of a large vein over his muscle and he hasn’t moved. I raise up to my knees and crawl to the pillows, turning the blankets down. Once I’m tucked inside I extend a hand, cautiously dragging him with me.
Jake moves on his own soon enough, wriggling out of his clothing, squirming down to his tight boxers. His body is sinew and lean muscle, naturally gorgeous and very much my taste. He turns his back to me and I cover us, spooning up behind him. He prefers to be held and I’m thankfully privy to this knowledge.
Wide expanses of skin, fresh out of the shirt that used to contain it. I suck his scent in my nose, shut my eyes and bury my face in his hair. Sleep is curling around me, my arms wrapping to their length’s limit around Jake’s chest. Just before I drop off he moves, rouses me with a roll of his shoulders. I murmur and snuggle back, nudging with my nose.
His head tilts and wet lips graze my forearm. I breathe out over his ear and he climbs to the hand that’s coiled around his shoulder, nearest my own mouth. He moves to bridge that gap and I’m bending to meet him, moist and tasting of fruity wine. We are typically unhurried, less sexual drive and more casual comfort of ground we’ve covered. An indulgence we'll allow.
That is, until his tongue sneaks into my mouth. Which is has never, ever done before. Ok, I can handle that. It’s curious and poking, slick and wow--flicking my own. That should give me pause. Anderson, stop. Don’t push back into his mouth and, oh boy, grunt like you want desperately to further this.
Jake half turns, lifts his right arm out from under himself and his touch is light, so light he could be doing it without thinking, across my neck. It hooks behind my head, holds me to him as we rush directly from flirtations to obvious intent.
This might ruin something, change something, hurt us. But why haven’t we been doing it for years? I’m trying to think of a reason and with his body hot against mine, I can’t string together a line of logic. I can, in a rather bold move I’d probably only be capable of with Jake, press a spread hand to the center of his chest and caress in a mild grope.
“Yeah.” He sighs into my mouth, pushing me in teasing taps, making me lean for his lips. Our eyes are blurry and close and he’s pretty--how did I ever resist him? Should I be? “Come back.” He whispers when I stop giving chase and start looking worried. I’m jet lagged, hungry and worn threadbare. I’m not thinking straight. He proves too much for my resolve, arching his back in it’s middle.
Cruel, that’s what he is. I know his ass pretty well for never having touched it. Dancing on tables for a crowd of his friends, swinging in the most inviting of manners when he’s walking. It’s never been shoved in my crotch, practically an invitation and I’m not going to push against him. No.
“C'mon.” He entices, lapping my open lips with a devilish tongue. “Keep going.” I want up his ass. Real fucking bad. To hold him tight and feel him gasp when I open him up, jerk him and make him come. Not appropriate. Not what you do with Jake, a possibility best left as only possible.
“I don’t... We shouldn’t do this.”
“Fuck, why not?” He growls, grinding into my now brutally hard cock. “I want it.” Yeah, and believe me when I say it wants you. This time I do arch back, let my eyes roll up and my stuttering sigh heave out. “Simple.” he coos. “I have lube in my jeans.” They’re within reach and it’s so goddamn Jake to be prepared like this. “We don’t even have to move, just get slick and get in me.”
“God.” That’s all I can give him, laying my forehead on his temple and restraining the body’s urge to dryly hump.
“C’mon Anderson, please.”
“Don’t... don’t beg.” Yeah Ok, I should list my weaknesses while we’re at it, in such a tone that it’s clear I’m the one begging.
“Why are you fighting?” My arm almost reaches over and grabs those pants, twitching against it’s hold on his flat chest. Speaking of a twitch, my dick jumps towards his ass and if it had a voice it would be screaming it’s head off.
“Jake.” I’m trying for a warning but I should shut up because he’s got me on the ropes and he’s going to knock me off my feet. He reaches under the covers and tugs his shorts down, throws an arm behind him to glance my hip, slide down my side and dive right into the hole in my boxers.
“Hard.” He tugs gently, rubs his ass against my now naked cock. “It’s for me, give it to me.” How I hold my ground I do not know, my powers of nervy apprehension are far beyond that of normal man. He tires of my restraint, snatches his own jeans and tears open the small package, squeezes it into the palm that was just holding me.
Fine. You do all the work because I terrified of taking the blame. It’s cool and I jump, startled until his hand makes a fist and slicks tightly down. Then it’s done, rounding the bend and I couldn’t not have sex with him now.
“Oh fuck Ok, Jake. Move your damn hand.” I’m angry with it now and I want inside him, pound more than he's asking for up his needy and convincing ass. He was right, it is simple to angle down and flex, slip into his body.
He sucks in a deep, gasping breath, grips the arm I’ve planted in the bed over him to steady myself.
“There.” I hiss, shakier than I would have liked, up to my balls in him and he’s clenching all over me. His eyes flutter and blink, unfocused. The nails of two fingers bite into my skin. “You...” He’s already moving, rocking his hips over me. “Oh, Jake.”
“You what?” He huffs as I roll deep plunges of my hips, collapse down on my side and crush him in my bent arms. I don’t even remember, some complaint; you took advantage, you impulsive bastard, you feel incredible from the inside. “Talk to me.” He moans, writhing around in my bear hug. I’m either fucking him or electrocuting him.
What the hell can I say that I’m not expressing with my hips bumping his ass? I cling to him desperately as we build a rhythm, tired and humping for all I’m worth.
“Anderson, say something.” He’s concerned with my silence but I'm not freaking out and I’m not upset--I’m just really far inside him.
“I can’t.” I gush out, coiling around him. “You’re tight and I’ll come.” Jake’s arms fold over mine, dig his fingers when I snap up and grind as deep as I go into him. It’s maybe a minute before I’m groaning like I’m dying of some awful disease, long, gut noises. Jake is whining, eyes opening and closing, air forced out of his lungs when I connect.
“You’re a good fuck.” He spits out, pressing his ass back over me. Not now I’m not, complimented and fumbling my next speedy thrusts. My left hand dips between his legs to pull his thickened cock. “Make me come.” He heaves breathlessly, wiggling and fighting my possessive hold on his chest. I have to lean my weight against him, wrestle his body down to the bed so I can keep slamming into it. He’s now half turned on his face, bent and jammed into the mattress.
When I nip the back of his neck and grunt dominantly into his ear, he lifts us back with a powerful arch and shoots onto the sheets. His come slicks down the knuckles of my yanking hand as he spills and wails in his musical voice, quivering around me in uncontrolled spasms.
I don’t pull out at all, just force him up the bed in my last thrusts, growling and struggling and finally coming. His hot body takes me in and I’m way too loud for a hotel, shouting his name no less.
I’m still leaking inside him as he sinks to the bed limply, squashed beneath my weight and speared on my cock. I’m slow in pulling out, letting him readjust and flex his bent back.
“Mmmph, fucking fabulous.” He groans, stretching his legs and rolling in a flop back to my chest. I can see his face again, lit with a lazy smile. “...Wow.” He says softly, right hand cupping my cheek very gently. It’s quiet in the room, nothing stirs. Almost as if I wasn’t just pounding the hell out of us both.
“What’s wow?” I ask with a roughed up throat, grinning at him.
“You look great, I’ve never seen you glow.” He’s puffing up, quite pleased with himself.
“Yeah, yeah, look at what Jake did.” I grumble, copying his smug expression.
“Me? You were holding me down.”
“Did I hurt you?” He shakes his head with squinted eyes, letting me know it takes more than I’ve got to injure him.
“You don’t have a lot of sex do you?” He asks sadly, rolling flat onto his back so he can inspect my body with curious fingers. His shorts are tangled around his legs, fresh tear in the seam of a leg hole.
“...No.” I remember talking to my therapist about intimacy, it was horrible to admit how little of it I experienced. Telling Jake doesn’t even cause my ego to twitch.
“If you want, we can add this to the things we do together.” This. As he says the word he parts the sticky fly of my boxers and fondles me. “Kinda big, aren’t you? No wonder it was hard to breathe.” As if I needed to be convinced, he starts talking about my cock approvingly; I’m nodding my head off. “Oh, good. I want more of you.”
“I should...” He cups my balls, rolls his hand and closes his eyes to slits, peers heatedly back at me. “sleep.”
“You sure?” He drawls, eyebrow arched. His other hand closes over my chest, pulling up flesh. “I think we need a shower before bed.”
Oh. Water. Jake, water and nudity. If someone can argue that it isn’t me. He clings to my back as we wrestle into the bathroom, tossing the last of our clothing.
Current Mood: awake
*whistles* Sweet holy fuck, that was hot. The first-person POV made it even better. Seriously. Good christ, I'm kind of speechless. Awesome.