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Of Booze and Love

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Everything had seemed so logical at first.
They both had a good time together. They were stuck far away from everything. Even if that hadn’t been the case, dating fans – civilians, Michael liked to call them – was too much trouble to bother.
And James found Michael really attractive. Not that that was the most important thing to consider during a drunken tryst, but that helped.

And that had been the problem, right? The whole thing – that weird relationship of sort – had started when and because they got smashed. Lonely nights and two bottles of vodka were to blame.
Granted, they could have stopped after the first intoxicated mutual hand job.
That was when the logical part came up. It had been fun, it still could be, why not keeping with the friends-with-benefits thing?
They somehow had to be shitfaced to get it on, but no complain: more alcohol, more fun!

Until the morning after. James looked at his pasty-white skin, rendered yellow by the light in the bathroom, not enough sleep and one too many drink the night before. A brass band of wild elephants was playing drums in his head. He stuck out his tongue.
“Gosh, I think I can see grass and moss growing on it” he murmured. The color was a muddy brown and it tasted like trash. Thanks for the morning breathe.
A sleepy mumble came from the bedroom. “Did you say something?”
Apparently, Michael had spent the night and he hadn’t realized it until now.
Usually Michael left after their bout of fucking and before falling asleep. That was always the plan for those evenings: alcohol, orgasm, sleeping alone, nausea. The last part wasn’t the most desirable, but it seemed obligatory nonetheless.

Maybe not. James remembered more awful mornings, where even the light felt like a terrible aggression and he wasn’t able to get up before noon. But it hadn’t occurred recently.
The night before, he had only drunk a few bottles of beer. Enough to feel lightheaded – and to have a delicious hangover in the morning – but that wasn’t much. And Michael had done the same. It had still been enough to go to bed with his co-star. Go figure.

“James, are you alright?” Damn, he hadn’t answered, and now Michael was worried.
“Yeah, sure!” he shouted. “Just a hell of a headache, and a sore asshole.”
That last bit made Michael laugh. Bastard. It was his fault he was afraid to take a shit right now, and the fucking bastard was laughing. One day, he was going to show him. Hopefully.
James filled a tumbler from the tap and swallowed a pill with a mouthful of water. It would take half an hour for the pill to work. Until then, he should just lie down and sleep some more.

He went back in the bedroom. Michael was sitting on the bed, trying to get both of his legs in his pants at the same time. The man cursed through his teeth at another failed attempt.
“Michael, you should just stay for the day. It’s not like we have to be anywhere” he added while returning to his place on the bed. He buried himself in the covers and went back to sleep. He didn’t even know what Michael decided. But he wasn’t there when James woke up mid-afternoon.


“And cut! Perfect. See you on Monday, guys!” Day over. Finally. James really appreciated Matthew’s work, but sometimes, the guy was just a little bit too perfectionist. No one needed eleven takes for a scene of Charles and Erik closing a car’s doors. Right?
James went to his trailer to remove Charles’ clothes, but Michael grabbed his wrist and made him stop half way.
“Pub tonight?” the man asked. As if they hadn’t done the exact same thing for the past few weeks.
“As usual.” None of them acknowledged what the ‘usual’ really meant.

However a couple of hours and a bottle of red wine later, James was kneeling on the bed of his hotel room, Michael between his thighs.
“Oh god, James. You feel so good…” Michael moaned. He was gripping at James’ hips like a drowning man, watching his cock going in and out of James’ hole with awe.
Michael’s words were a little more than background noises for James. Inebriated terms of endearment didn’t mean anything. And his mind was clouded enough that he needed to concentrate on the cock in his ass if he didn’t want to come too early tonight. Or did want to come at all. He didn’t know. Everything was so confusing.
Not that Michael wasn’t good at what he did. Quite the opposite actually. Before Michael, James had bottomed a couple of times only, and it wasn’t great. But with Michael…
It happened on their third night. He didn’t even remember how it came to this. But the feeling of Michael’s length in him, the slow movements, the gliding of skin on skin, and finally the outburst… James doubted he had ever felt anything like this. And he had congratulated Michael enough times that they both felt obligated to pursue their relationship as it was.

Except that James would appreciate a change of perspective sometimes. He had the chance to look at Michael’s amazing body – the long and thin torso, the flat stomach, the slightly muscled limbs, the pert ass – and since then he had fantasies of being buried in him to the balls. In his dreams, he could hear Michael’s groans as he was repeatedly penetrated by James’ thick cock.
James seized the base of his erection to avoid coming in an instant. Just the image of Michael on his back with his legs spread was able to arouse him immensely.
But he didn’t know how to bring the subject. They never talked about their relationship. In the morning, Michael was already gone. And when they met the next day on set, they acted like simple co-stars, friends at best. They didn’t talk about the incredible sex they had about once a week. Until their next evening in the pub. That was quite frustrating. Especially since James had started to imagine a change in their roles.

Michael pushed one more time inside him and came with a loud groan. He had just enough conscience to immediately grab James’ cock and stroke it furiously. James followed with a harsh cry, spurting on the coverlet.
Michael rolled on his side, panting. Soon he would leave James’ room and go back to his. Curtains closed, end of the play.
It was possibly a bit depressing too. James wondered why.


They left the pub that night after just one beer on tap. Still James wanted nothing more than undress himself in his room and make out with Michael.
“My room tonight?” the man asked. Good, he seemed as eager to get it on.
“Okay” James simply answered.

However, back in Michael’s hotel room, they didn’t go to bed immediately. They sat in the little living room and opened a bottle of whisky. So maybe Michael still needed alcohol to sleep with him. James shifted on the sofa to hide his already half-hard cock straining in his pants. He hated waiting.
But it didn’t take long – about half a glass – for Michael to jump on him and kiss him like he never had before. The lips were hard on his owns, and Michael’s tongue soon found a way to slip in his mouth, wet and hungry. They almost didn’t register the unpleasant taste of beer mixed with whisky. It wasn’t in Michael’s habits to kiss him, it really rarely occurred. And most of the time it was just a brush of the lips. But tonight Michael seemed to want to eat him whole. Surprisingly an arousing prospect.
James returned Michael’s kiss eagerly, tongues fighting a sexy battle between their mouths.

Soon James lied on his back on the sofa. Michael kept rutting against his thigh, completely gone, mouthing James’ neck like a starved man. Not a word was exchanged.
They quickly divested themselves of their clothes, never quite breaking the contact. Now naked, the feeling of skin on skin became overwhelming. Their moans filled the room, a weird melody to their dance of love.
Wait a minute. The realization startled James and he remained still just long enough for Michael to worry he had hurt him somehow. “James?”
How could he have been so stupid? The desperation when morning came, the need to always be close to him, the strange squeeze in his guts when the man laughed… Of course he was in love with Michael! What an idiot! “Well fuck me” he groaned, angry with himself.
“My pleasure” Michael whispered, a large grin on his face. Not exactly what James had meant, but no reason to complain. He would have time to dwell on his feelings later. When he’d be back in his room. Alone.

In the meantime, he had other things to do. Like making Michael totally crazy with sex. James hooked his hands behind Michael, bringing him closer, and resumed the kiss.
Michael’s hard cock rubbed against his. The friction felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
James’ hands went lower and lower on Michael’s back, finally grabbing his butt. James felt bold doing something like this: he had never dared touch Michael’s ass. The toned muscles seemed strong and hard, but they were actually quite smooth. James’ fingertips brushed along the crack before insinuating themselves in between those perfect cheeks and rubbing Michael’s delicate entrance.
James hadn’t expected Michael’s high-pitched cry of ecstasy.
Once he regained his composure, Michael looked expectantly at James. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
James didn’t understand at first. What was his lover saying exactly? Oh god, Michael was his lover – oblivious to the fact, yes, but still.
Interpreting James’ lack of answer as a confirmation, Michael added: “You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. I was afraid you would never want me that way.”

James eventually registered what Michael was saying. They had shared the same fantasy since the beginning of their relationship. Too good to be true? James wasn’t the type to waste a good opportunity.
He turned them around and stayed on all fours, Michael under him. His lover’s face flushed with excitement. James’ tentative fingers traced random patterns on Michael’s chest, the Scotsman watching goose bumps rise on his lover’s skin.
He couldn’t believe what he was about to do. Overwhelmed, he followed his fingers with his mouth, licking every inch of Michael’s torso, from his bony collarbone to his navel, plunging his tongue in the shallow hole, making Michael moan beautifully. He felt his lover’s long fingers tugging at his hair, nails scraping his skull. Everything was perfect.

James’ tongue went directly from Michael’s navel to his left thigh, ignoring the place most craving for its touch. While tasting the skin there, James grabbed his lover’s legs and bent his knees. One on each side of his face, he was surrounded by Michael’s strong male scent. It was intoxicating, more than any drink he ever had with the man before. He couldn’t stop himself and bit the fragile flesh, leaving red marks on the pale thighs again and again.
Each plunge of his teeth seemed to send bolts of pleasure through Michael’s spine. The man arched his back and spread his legs widely, silently asking for more. James was eager to give it to him.
He left his position on the sofa for an instant and started rummaging through his coat’s pocket – the garment had been hanged in the hall when they arrived – looking for the small bottle of lube and the packets of condom he always took with him for those nights in the pub. And it turned out to be an excellent idea most of the time.
Finally finding them between a chap stick and a pair of sun glasses – he really had Mary Poppins’ pockets, or so it seemed – he came back to Michael and decided to take the next step. He settled once again between Michael’s legs and, never leaving his lover’s eyes, brushed Michael’s hole with an already lubricated index finger. And then pushed.

Michael sighed loudly, visibly enjoying the feeling. His erection twitched, a pearl of clear fluid appearing at the tip and rolling down the shaft. James was mesmerized by the sight. He was the cause of such a delicious reaction. He wanted more.
He quickly added another finger, and Michael’s moans filled the room. Between his legs, his own cock felt heavy. But first he had to prepare Michael carefully. Soon a third finger joined the party, and Michael arched on the sofa.
Sure James had enjoyed being taken by Michael, and he most certainly had made a fool of himself several times when the feeling was too much and he started writhing under his lover, shouting gibberish – the alcohol was to blame, James liked to reassure himself. But never had he seemed in total bliss like Michael did at the moment. He was leaking non-stop now, flushed from head to toes, jaw slacked, eyes closed. Michael was the image of ecstasy.
And it was only his fingers.

Suddenly Michael grabbed his wrist and a litany of “now, now” escaped the man’s mouth, like he was incapable of saying anything else – anything coherent at least. But the message was clear and the anticipation in Michael’s gaze finished convincing him. Not that he needed much convincing: he had wanted Michael far too long already.
He slipped a condom on his engorged cock and slicked it quickly with more lube, Michael’s glazed eyes focused on his movements.
“Please, James, please…”
Michael’s strained voice was begging him. James couldn’t wait anymore and positioned himself between his lover’s spread thighs. So many things were passing through the man’s clouded eyes that James had a hard time deciding what he was seeing: impatience, fear, passion, lust… love? Nope, not going there. Illusions and disappointment weren’t good aphrodisiacs. He still wanted to convey all his feelings to Michael, making that experience unforgettable.
James palmed Michael’s face, rubbing his thumb on the sharp cheekbone and staring in Michael’s irises. He then leaned over and brushed his lips, tasting the rosy flesh with his tongue.
When Michael was completely lost in the kiss, James entered him slowly in one thrust. Michael moaned in James’ mouth, shivering under the pressure of James’ cock in him.
“Yes” Michael murmured, like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. James could hardly argue.

After that, it was all desire and sex, bodies in a frenzy and hammering hearts. The rhythm of James’ balls slapping against Michael’s ass was accompanied with Michael’s little moans and sighs, and James’ grunts. Sweat helped their skins glide against each other. James’ hot breathe warmed his lover’s neck while Michael mapped James’ back with his hands, never wanting to let him go.
Michael was singing his name, adding lyrics to the melody of their passion. It was too much, too good. They both were reaching for that speckle of pure light waiting for them.
And then, in a cry of ecstasy coming from both of their mouths at the same time, they fell over the edge in a blissful fire.
But in the midst of that explosion came a whisper from Michael: “I love you”.

James didn’t register what had been said until he could breathe again calmly. And apparently Michael had realized what had escaped him at the same time, judging from his blushing cheeks and his daunted eyes.
Soon the man was fumbling with the sheets and tried to flee the scene of his utter embarrassment, hoping against hope that James hadn’t heard his confession. But the younger man couldn’t let him go yet, especially now that he had understood that his feelings weren’t as unrequited as he thought.
James seized Michael’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Michael was looking anywhere but at him, still trying to disentangle himself from that possessive sheets. “You heard me, didn’t you? Don’t deny it, I can see it.”
“And?” James wanted Michael to see in his eyes and on his face that his confession hadn’t been received with fear or disgust. He knew he was a good actor – a talented actor even – but how could one convey that kind of feeling just with facial expressions?
“And I’ll leave and won’t bother you anymore.” Well, one couldn’t.
“Oh no you don’t leave after telling me you love me. I have the right to react to this whichever way I want.”

James knew he was cruel. The harsh way he answered put a haunted look on Michael’s face, like the man was an animal on its way to being slaughtered. But he couldn’t resist. Seeing Michael, calm and deadly Michael, so flustered because of him – sort of – was a real pleasure.
But he decided against words. He didn’t have any wonderfully written script in front of him, and there were better way to express himself after all.
He pulled Michael to him and sealed his mouth with eager lips. When he finally let him go and looked at his lover, the man’s eyes had widens comically. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way Michael mouthed silent words.
And just like that, tiredness fell upon him. It was really late now, and his orgasm had drained him of his last strength.
He wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him to his chest, and in a matter of seconds he was asleep.
They could talk in the morning.