Red Wine And Jazz
August 2010
“Come in. Did you find it ok getting here?” Dean asked as Jamie appeared at the door of his apartment.
“Oh hello. Yes thanks. I’m a seasoned Londoner. It was no sweat. Actually it was a little, the tube is horrible in August. Your face is worth it though.” Jamie’s eyes danced, then he launched a kiss at Dean.
“Wow, you should spend a few days away from me more often if that’s the kiss I get. Get that ass in here.” He pulled Jamie in by the waist.
“Please no. I want to see you more often not less from now on. I’ve done all that. I’m sorry again.” Jamie brushed his hands down his thighs.
Dean did his thing. Cupping Jamie’s chin. “My beautiful boy. Please shut up and come into my home. Which I invited you to. We’re ok.”
Jamie looked up at him. “Ok, I’m here. I like it here. Your place is so, so, you! I hoped it would be, my head was exploding with what your home would be like, I had to nap earlier, after work. Dean, honestly, my head sometimes, it’s exhausting.” Jamie walked into the living room like he already lived here. Dean laughed and his heart burst.
Dean’s apartment was a two bed, two bath with a large kitchen, living, dining room on the first floor. Part of an Edwardian townhouse. The high ceilings and large rooms sold it to him, along with the courtyard atop his downstairs neighbour’s roof. He kept it simple. Mainly white, his main investment was his oversize brown leather L shaped sofa. Perfect for pigging out and curling up.
“What’s for dinner babe?” Jamie’s question spread a grin over Dean’s face.
“I’m making a Moroccan chicken dish for you. Ready in half hour. We’ll have red wine to complement. That ok for you Arden?”
“Perfect.” Dean was actually talking to Jamie’s behind as he busied himself looking at books in the book case and photos.
Dean laughed and went to check on dinner.
“You have a brilliant book collection. Reading helps me. Sorry I’m being nosy. I’m not going to find weapons or ex boyfriends here am I?” Jamie giggled.
“No, Jamie. Come here.” Dean leaned on the island.
Jamie surfaced in a clutter of books. “Ok, I’m good. How can I help?” He smiled.
“You don’t need to help, I just wanted to give you a glass. Are you ok? Can I do anything to help you relax?” Dean rubbed Jamie’s shoulders.
Jamie took Dean’s arm and turned, wearing Dean like a winter scarf. “Can you play some jazz? You, red wine, jazz, books, Moroccan chicken. I like this place.” He left again to sit and he seemed to settle.
Dean looked on at him. He knew Jamie needed this time to process so let him flutter about like a little bird. Dean’s heart swelled. He couldn’t say that word yet but he could feel his heart wanting to say it soon. How was it possible? He didn’t care to justify the thought. Jamie was Jamie. He was chaos and Dean wanted him to pull him into his storm to ride it together.
“I can indeed. I’m glad you like my home. It’s happy to have you here, so am I babe.” He flicked his phone to a Jazz play list.
“That’s perfect. Thank you. Can you come sit by me for a bit. I need to feel you by me. That would be good.” Jamie stroked the seat next to him.
Dean bit his lip and went to him, how long was this going to last.
They spoke of their families over dinner. Jamie spoke so much Dean had to remind him to eat. “Oh shit, sorry. Yes. This really is lovely, thank you for the effort Archer.” He spoke between mouthfuls. Eventually Dean gave up and laughed.
They moved to the sofa and sat opposite each other listening to the jazz in silence. Dean was happy to, he could sense Jamie was now calm.
“Your home really is beautiful. I love the room height. I feel free. Like I don’t want to escape. Don’t worry I will leave eventually and not clutter up the place.” Jamie sighed. Insecure, Dean reminded himself.
“Jamie, you don’t need to leave. Come and go when you want.” Dean skirted around making the statement a flat out ask to move in. He mentally put the breaks on just a little.
A little later.
Jamie’s hand wondered up Dean’s arm. He rubbed his bicep, grinned, took a swig of wine and got up. He came to stand in front of his newly acquired boyfriend. He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean didn’t have any clue how sexual he was. Jamie noticed on their previous dates how both women and men followed him across the coffee shop and bar with their eyes. Creating undoubtedly filthy fantasises in their heads.
Jamie didn’t blame them. He did the same.
Countless lonely hours imagining how he would be with Dean now and into their future. Dean coming home from work in a suit, immediately wedging his Angel face between his cheeks. Dean’s big blue eyes looking up for praise that he was being a ‘naughty but good boy.’ The burn of his stubble leaving its marks on him like a vampire looking for blood.
He imagined slipping into his office and taking him in his mouth while he helplessly tried to navigate a mundane meeting through strained breaths, making no sense at all.
He imagined curling up on this very sofa with Dean. His head resting on Dean’s beautiful toned stomach, dappled lightly in that ebony hair. Wrenching his cock free, pulling it frantically until Dean squirmed and covered them both in his sex.
He imagined Dean coming home, pent up from his day, finding Jamie in the kitchen, no words exchanged just need. Pulling on his clothes and filling him. A hand at his throat. Not violence but a physical demonstration of the possession they had over each other.
He imagined no more.
“Dean?” Jamie smiled. It was a genuine smile. It wasn’t sexy or flirtatious. There was no need for it to be, they were here, they’d done all that. No more chase to make. There was almost a nervousness in it, spiking at its edges. The way an intimate and genuinely meant first time between lovers should be.
“Yeah?” Dean looked up but said nothing else. They’d said all they could say until this point. This was the watershed of their relationship. This was the last layer to peel off of the packaging that was going to be their life.
Dean splayed his arms out wide and smiled softly back. Reciprocating Jamie’s nervousness. Rubbing his lips between his teeth.
They understood silently, this meant something. This act deserved its time, the detail, the tease.
Jamie pushed his way through Dean’s legs and kissed him tenderly then retreated to his knees. Running his hands over the denim clad mound in front of him. He removed his t shirt and locked eyes with Dean. He kissed Dean’s belt, Dean shifted his torso and crotch up, giving himself up to Jamie.
Dean gasped at the sight of Jamie’s pure skin under the low lights of the room. His muscles like mountain peeks. His spine, leading to his behind, a valley.
Jamie unbuttoned the belt and jeans. Just enough for him to get to where he needed to go. Dean’s shaft wrapped perfectly in tight black briefs. Raging for release. Jamie nuzzled into the hot mustiness and smiled as Dean’s hair scraped his cheek. They couldn’t be more different aesthetically two extremes that work. Sweet and sour. Salt and sugar. Dean and Jamie.
Jamie teased no longer and took Dean in his mouth. He struggled with Dean’s size, his biggest. Dean lay back and looked up, paralysed under Jamie. Jamie sighed with satisfaction at having this moment with the part of Dean he’d craved for so long.
Jamie picked up his pace, wanting more and more, he pulled Dean’s hand to his neck with a firm jerk. Don’t be gentle. Dean complied, a strong guiding hand put weight on Jamie’s jaw. He squeezed his eyes closed, tears falling, suppressing gargles, he didn’t want to become messy just yet.
Jamie sensed it was soon, he put his palms on Dean’s thighs and braced. “Babe I’m coming, give me your face.” Jamie released. Dean held Jamie at the top of his thigh as he gasped, releasing his load. It splashed over Jamie’s face and up Dean’s arm. The force was a build up of every image they held of each other until this moment, in this moment. Now it was real.
“Dean, mmm babe.” Jamie took Dean back in his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the thick head once more.
Dean looked down, proud of his mess. “Shit, I never do that with anyone. Not that much. Fuck.” He brought a hand to Jamie’s face. He rubbed his thumb against his cheek, the beautiful face now stained with tears of strain and lust.
Jamie rose up, “you’re welcome babe.” He went to sit, Dean’s hands came to his stomach.
“Fuck no. We’re not done.” Dean looked up with intense eyes, rubbing his hand over Jamie’s toned chest.
“Are we not?” He laughed and ran his hand through Dean’s hair, pulling it, the waves begged to be tugged. “This hair.” Jamie whispered.
“No.” Dean pulled Jamie’s jeans down. His cock sprang against his cheek. Dean was happy at what he saw. The peek he had a few nights before. Now in front of him. As elegant as his body, strong, dense, long.
Dean took him in his mouth and hugged Jamie’s cheeks. He huffed at the firm weight of Jamie’s behind over his forearms.
Jamie shifted gently, he liked Dean to be assertive, he wanted to let Dean do what he wanted with him. Jamie looked down at the big blue eyes bulging back up at him. No tears, no noise, Dean was smart and composed, even now.
Jamie was almost there when Dean’s stubble brushed his thigh, the sting sent a message deep inside and he released into Dean’s mouth. He didn’t warn, they seemed so in sync. Dean buckled but grabbed Jamie’s behind firmly to confirm he was committed.
Jamie pulled away. “Dean, that was incredible.” He bent down and kissed him deeply.
“Anything for you.” Dean laughed. They got up and held hands together and just stared.
Dean took in the boy in front of him. A constant nervousness swam in Jamie’s eyes. He hoped one day Jamie would take comfort in this place, a place Dean was already wanting to share with him. Too soon a question to raise? Yes too soon. Dean wanted all of him. To have here, to protect him. Make him feel safe. His main worry, to be understood. Dean understood.
His body was immaculate. Like a statue in an Italian church. Beautiful, no blemish, a radiance from polished stone.
Jamie took in the boy in front of him. A heaving chest that spoke of comfort and protection. Of power and lust. His arms, dominant when they will want to be, as they establish their dynamic, but supportive when he will need. A torso, dappled with sweat now beneath the fabric, but he will see it soon. Jamie grinned at food being the way to Dean’s heart. He’d learn to keep his stomach satisfied. He had to for his future boy.
Dean kissed Jamie again and they played with their hands intertwined. “Can I uh, take you on a tour of my home? I want you to see my little world.”
“Take me. Yes.” Jamie did something that took Dean’s breath away. He looked away and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and sighed with a happy thrum. “Perfect.” Dean laid a hand quietly on the back of his head and they swayed slightly.
“Are you ok babe?” Dean whispered.
“I’m completely and utterly ok. Where’s my tour big boy?” Jamie released himself and kissed Dean again. Dean grinned clumsily at him.
“This way please.” They entered the kitchen. Dean stood behind Jamie at the island separating the kitchen from the living come dining room. He swayed his hips behind Jamie. A hardness stirring again. “So, this is the kitchen. I cook here. You heard of that before?” Dean kissed Jamie’s neck and laughed.
“Oh we’re teasing me already? Ok, I’ll learn to cook. But I can tease like the best of them.” He shoved his hips back against Dean and pulled his head down for a kiss. They sighed together and swayed some more.
“I’m kidding baby. I’m kidding. I’ll cook.” He lifted Jamie onto the island to face him. Arching his arms over Jamie. “I’m happy you’re here. I’ve needed you here for weeks. You don’t want to know how many times I’ve got myself off thinking of you.” He pushed his body to Jamie and they flattened on the island.
“Mmm I hope I inspire you, but you don’t need that anymore. I’m here.” Jamie looked down, smiled and spread his arms open.
“Thank fucking god for that.” They laughed and got up. Let me take you to my bathroom.
In the door way Dean resumed his place behind Jamie. “Bath big enough for two, and a shower big enough for two. In case you want to join me.” He bit Jamie’s ear and threaded his arms around Jamie’s solid waist. “I have a toothbrush for you too. See, my generosity extends beyond drinks in bars babe.” He smacked Jamie’s behind firmly. “This way please.”
Jamie followed with a smile that made his cheeks hurt. “Ok Archer, where next.”
“Spare room, you won’t need that, it’s an office and a bedroom. You will never sleep in here. Ever. You may creep in and give me a blowie while I’m on a boring meeting though.” Dean laughed like a teenager. Jamie slapped his chest.
“Don’t push your luck Archer. Although, I could come round to the idea. Pretty soon actually.” He grinned. Dean kissed him again on the threshold.
“And this is my bedroom.” Jamie gasped. It was beautiful, like its owner. Clean lines, attempts at fashionable elements but they weren’t needed, like Dean the room was strong and handsome in its own right. Those parts that showed Dean lived here were the only parts that made Jamie smile and thought were important. Photos, treasures from trips, art that meant nothing to anyone accept Dean and hopefully Jamie soon. His own preoccupation with material perfection started to melt away in that moment.
Dean pulled him to the foot of the bed. He swallowed and appeared nervous. His blue eyes searching. “Jamie. Please stay with me tonight. I know you weren’t expecting…”
“Yes.” Jamie grabbed Dean’s cheeks. “Yes, silly. I will. Will you shut up and can we finally sleep together? The way it should be? In one of our homes, after a perfect evening? I’m ready for you Dean Archer.”
Dean said nothing but grabbed Jamie by the back of the head. The kiss was on a different plane than what came before. A sense of equality between them. Clothes were gone quickly in huffs and scrapes. They wanted to finish this dance they’d initiated weeks before.
As Jamie had rightly imagined, Dean’s big blue eyes looked up as his tongue played in between his cheeks. Wet, warm and addictive. He found himself flexing his hand as he got to do what he’d wanted to for so long, his palm plunged into Dean’s waves of ebony hair and pulled firmly. Dean growled. He was a naughty but good boy. A wince and a bit lip. And there it was, the sting of Dean’s stubble again on the skin between his cheeks. Jamie gasped. “Fuck me.”
The t shirt came off and Jamie recoiled internally at the sight. A wave of light black hair crashed against Dean’s chest and torso like a wave to a shore. A light blanket over rugged mountains. He was a sexual mass. Jamie needed him.
Dean was slow and respectful. He edged in little by little, Jamie accommodated through satisfied sighs. Eventually, from a white hot pain came a fullness that was like nothing else. Jamie gripped Dean’s bed as Dean took up his position above. Jamie was right, Dean’s legs were fantastic. Jamie moved without having to think. Dean carried them both.
Jamie grabbed at Dean’s face. “You’re amazing. Harder. Fill me.” He clawed at Dean’s back as Dean nuzzled his neck. The most perfect tickle of breath. His toes curled as Dean began to pant.
“I’m coming babe. You sure?” Dean asked, always the gentlemen. Jamie didn’t respond, he wrapped his legs around Dean tighter, a yes in his actions.
Dean rose and held the headboard to crash into Jamie one last time. Like a lion roaring after capturing its kill. Jamie came from Dean’s rhythm and the view above him. He was a god.
They collapsed in sweat and satisfaction.
Jamie slept in Dean’s bed. All night.
