Chapter 1: Prologue - Dear John
James lounged in his favorite booth in the little pub drinking steadily for four hours before he came to the conclusion that young Declan wasn't going to appear this year. He'd been tempted to ask after him, because Declan had lived above the pub for a time and surely they wouldn't forget a face like his and might have seen him recently. The detective in him was growing concerned.
James eventually gave up hope of seeing that handsome face appear through the pub's door, and slid out of the booth to pay his tab.
The bartender eyed him and smirked, “Dr. Watson?”
“I am Watson, yes.”
The barkeep pulled an envelope from a pocket on his apron and handed it to him. “Declan Macrae was in this morning and left that for you.” He poured a shot of single malt scotch and put it on the counter in front of James. “That's on the house. I've a feelin' you're going to need it.”
James took the drink and downed it, before tearing the envelope and sliding the letter out. “That bad is it?”
The man gave James a sympathetic smile. “Youth is wasted on the young.”
“I tend to agree, in most cases. However, I don't think young Declan is one of those people, even with his relative youth.”
The barkeep laughed, “I know a 'Dear John' when I see it. And young Declan's face was as long as I've ever seen it...”
The printing was small, neat and even. The missive read:
I've met someone this year. She's a great girl, someone I would want to meet my parents, if they were still alive. It feels wrong to keep our date when I'm seeing someone else.
I'm sure you'll understand.
I'll be thinking of you tonight and hoping Charlie doesn't make you order too many drinks before he gives you my letter. The bastard is a shrewd businessman, so I will apologize in advance for him, and for not having the courage to tell you all of this to your face.
I'll never forget the “lessons” or you.
Be well. Take care.
“Well, damn,” James sighed.
It wasn't that he didn't want Declan to be happy, because he wanted that very much. It was good the other man found someone to share his life with. James knew first hand how lonely life could get when you didn't have someone to share it with. James was just disappointed because he'd been looking forward to this meeting for months and continuing the man's 'education' was the most fun he'd had in ages.
Nikola would never let him live it down if he ever found out how much James was enjoying debauching a young man he'd picked up in a bar. Luckily, he hadn't heard from Nikola Tesla in nearly five years. That usually meant Nikola was hip deep in some sort of trouble and eventually he'd surface, usually just in time for James and Helen to rescue him from himself.
James pushed the shot glass in the direction of the bartender. “I need another... better yet, make it two fingers neat.”
The man smirked, and James figured Declan's assessment of the man's character was spot on. “Coming right up.”
“Don't expect a good tip for making me wait four hours for my 'Dear John' letter. I've a mind to stop frequenting your establishment.”
The man placed the glass on the bar before James and smiled, “Don't be a poor sport, Guv. All's fair in love and all that tripe... You needed a goodly dose of liquid numbness before I dropped that bomb on you.”
James thought about it and sighed, “Quite right.” He held the glass up in salute, “To young Declan and his lady love.” He drank it down in a single go, tossed a five pound note onto the counter and stumbled down the street back to the room he'd rented in anticipation of their date, alone and drunk.
To be continued in chapter 1
Chapter 2: Chance or Fate?
Prompt – one location/moment in time
James was called to the crime scene by a friend in MI-6. The man met him at the door to the apartment, and smiled grimly. “James! Glad you could take the time to come up. I know you're a busy man, but your help is always appreciated.” He opened the door wide and ushered James in with a hand on his back.
Just inside the door, in a side hallway, James came face to face with Declan Macrae, and to say he was surprised was an understatement. Before he could even open his mouth, his friend said, “Dr. James Watson, I'd like you to meet our newest recruit, Declan Macrae. He's green, but he came from SAS with decorations for valor in combat, so you know he's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll take you through the apartment, and I'll keep the trampling hoards out while you have a look around.”
The man turned to Declan, “Keep out of the way, Macrae, and let him go anywhere he wants to. His methods may seem strange at times, but they always prove invaluable in cases like this.”
“Yes, sir.” Declan's lips turned up in a small smile, “I'm sure Dr. Watson and I will get on well enough.”
There was something in Declan's tone that went straight to James' cock. He recovered his equilibrium by walking ahead, eyes scanning everything.
The bedroom was at the back of the long hall, and it felt claustrophobic knowing Declan was just behind him. “So, young Declan, we meet again. How's the girlfriend?”
There was a long silence behind him, long enough that James turned to glance over his shoulder. Declan's face had gone ashen. “I asked her to marry me. She turned me down. Said she didn't want to be a soldier's wife. I thought if I left the SAS, it would make her happy.”
James could see that the gaping wound was still bleeding in what was left of the young man's heart. “But it wasn't enough?”
Declan looked at his feet. “No, it bloody well wasn't.”
It hurt to see him in such obvious agony. The emotions were so close to the surface, even someone without James' observational skills and brilliant mind couldn't miss it. “How is MI-6 treating you?”
“I'm still learning the ropes, but so far it's been good.”
“You'll go far with your natural ability to take people's measure.”
Declan shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable with the compliment. “We should get on. He won't be able to keep everyone back for long.”
James did something he'd never even considered at a crime scene before, he caressed the side of Declan's face with his knuckles. It was a surprisingly intimate touch and Declan merely endured it and wouldn't meet his gaze. “If you don't make eye contact with me, I'm going to do something that would embarrass us both, like try to kiss you.”
Declan's pale eyes went wide with surprise and a hint of fear, but they met his finally, “No.”
James smiled and turned back to his work, he thought to himself, 'We'll just see about that, won't we, my dear beautiful boy?'
prompt – vices: drinking
James loved the look of surprise on Declan's face when he answered the knock on his apartment door that evening. For a moment, he wasn't sure Declan was going to let him. When the man finally stepped back to admit him, James swept in with an air of impatience. “Did you think you could escape me so easily, my dear boy? We have unfinished business.”
“Is this about the murder case?” Declan frowned at him.
James smiled. “Not at all. I sent my observations to the lead man on the case this afternoon, and I believe they picked up a suspect about an hour ago. Exactly where I surmised he would be, too.” He knew the smugness in his tone would grate at most people's nerves, but the young man was just staring at him, completely dumbstruck. “Come now, no need to look at me like I've grown a second head. It was simple deduction, really.”
Finally remembering his manners, Declan asked, “Can I get you something to drink? I've got scotch or Guinness...” He ran a hand through his hair and mussed it up.
“A beer would be refreshing. Thank you. I might suggest you have something a bit stronger.”
Declan tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at him, “Why?”
“Because I have plans to fuck the hell out of you tonight and get your mind of the chit who broke your heart, my boy,” James stated, quite matter of factly. “Unless, of course, having a girlfriend put you off men.”
“I'm not...” Declan started.
James laughed, “Oh, you most certainly are. Or at the very least, you are bisexual. One can wave away oral sex in an alley as youthful experimentation, but intercourse is an entirely different animal.”
“And if I say no?”
The older man closed the distance between them until they are nearly touching, chest to chest, “Pupils dilated, heart racing, palms sweating... you don't want to say no. And neither does the cock swelling in your trousers.”
Declan cursed under his breath and muttered, “I need that drink.”
“Better make it a double. I'm rather annoyed with being stood up on Boxing Day and I don't feel particularly gentle tonight.” James followed Declan into the kitchen and watched him upend the fifth of scotch into his mouth and take several long swallows. “Getting drunk isn't going to spare you.”
“Where is this all going?”
James was surprised by the directness of the question, another point in Macrae's favor. He could be direct, too. “Short term... sex tonight and another date on Boxing Day. Long term... when you tire of MI-6, you'll be coming to work for me.”
“Is that right? Have my life all planned for me, do you?”
He backed Declan up against the refrigerator and kissed him thoroughly. The taste of whiskey and Declan was heady and very possibly addictive. “You'll like working for me, Declan.” Another kiss, teeth clashing, lips being nipped. “There are all sorts of dangers and excitements and things you'll never see in three or four lifetimes.”
The third time Declan initiated the kiss, gripping James' upper arms hard. “The sex tonight... I get to fuck you, again.”
“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way.”
Declan's forehead furrowed, “I don't have any condoms.”
“I've come prepared.”
A smiled quirked the corner of Declan's mouth, “Somehow, I'm not surprised.”
“Something else to appreciate in a future protege. Not much surprises you.”
They made their way into Declan's bedroom, and James was pleased Declan took the scotch bottle with them in case they wanted more and didn't want to stop the action to go fetch it.
James took the bottle out of his hand and gestured to Declan's clothes, “You'll need to remove those.” He sipped from the bottle and watched as Declan stripped for him. Once Declan was naked, James filled his mouth with alcohol and guided the younger man onto his back on the bed. He pinned Declan's wrists and pressed their mouths together.
Declan proved a quick study and soon had part of the whiskey in his mouth, fed from James'. “Oh, fuck me...” Declan moaned. His voice was hoarse with lust and his hips were rolling against James' in a feeble attempt to get more friction to his aching cock.
“All in good time, my friend. A little patience will go a long way tonight.”
“In other words, don't bloody rush you.”
James smiled a bit wickedly, “Precisely.” He undressed out of everything but his shirt, then pulled a tube of lube and a string of condoms from the pocket of his pants.
Declan's eyes were on the shirt, clearly curious to see the secrets that lay hidden beneath. James gave him an amused shrug, “Maybe someday. Leave me with at least a bit of mystery.”
“How do you want me?” Declan asked, speaking of possible positions, with just a hint of nerves.
James laughed. “Every way I can get you, but for now, stay just as you are. I want to see your face the first time.”
“Dirty old man.”
“Oh, my dear boy, you have no idea.” James was soon sheathed in a condom and ready for action. He teased and stretched Declan until he felt the younger man was going to go mad from frustration, then he lined himself up with Declan's puckered opening and pressed forward. It was a supreme effort to be patient while Declan's body adjusted to the invasion when his own really wanted to just start pounding away in the younger man's virgin ass.
“Bloody beginners...” James moaned.
“You can move now, oh hell... yeah, do that again.” James was more than happy to oblige, over and over.
After a bit, he dragged Declan a little closer and folded his knees up, changing the angle. He didn't know how it was even possible for it to feel better than it already did, but it was. The steady pumping in and out gained speed and force as Declan was able to take more and more of him. His cock was swelling, too, as the pleasure built. The older man smirked as Declan's hands gripped at his pillow, desperate for something to hang on to.
James stopped abruptly to keep from coming too soon and earned himself a glare, “Not quite yet. Hand me that bloody bottle.”
Declan's arm reached out and snagged the scotch from the nightstand and handed it to James. James took a long pull and sighed with pleasure; Declan took the bottle back and sat up enough to take a sip, but ended up spilling a bit on his neck and chest. The little beads of alcohol caught James' eye and he deftly folded Declan's long body in half chasing the liquor across warm skin with his tongue. It mixed with the salty tang of sweat and before he knew what he'd done, the skin on Declan's collarbone and neck were decorated with red love bites.
“Oh dear,” James chuckled. “You'll have a devil of a hickey there and there.” He stroked the spots with his tongue.
Eyes wide, Declan looked up at him. “How'my goin ta explain that?” His accent grew adorably thicker the more salacious things James did to him.
“None of their business, frankly.” James pulled completely out and Declan growled, so James hushed him, “Don't get snarly with me. It's time to change position.”
James stacked all the pillows in the middle of the bed and gestured at Declan to turn around. “You'll like this bit.”
“Oh, fuck me...” Declan howled, as James slid back in.
“As you wish.” James did fuck the younger man, and with abandon too, his forehead resting on Declan's back.
When his virginal lover was close to losing it, James gripped the base of his cock to stop him from ejaculating, and earned himself a snarled, “Le'go ya teasing bloody bastard.”
“Now now. I was trying to keep you from soiling the bed linens.”
Declan turned his head and glared, “don't care...”
James narrowed his eyes. “I have a better use for your come, my boy.” He tipped them off the pillows and took Declan's swollen organ into his mouth, using his hands to stoke it until his mouth filled with Declan's semen. It didn't take long and James swallowed it all, then licked his lips seeking any last traces.
“Ah... think I hate you... tosser...” Declan mumbled.
“Now see here, young man, all's fair in sex and war.” James laughed and playfully shoved Declan flat onto his belly and resumed his previous activities.
The orgasm started from the tips of his toes and built slowly until it seemed as if his head would explode from the pleasure of the warm, strong body under and around him. His breath hissed between clenched teeth as he released into the condom. He pulled out and collapsed onto his side, thoroughly wrung out.
Declan, drawing on James' example last time they were together, went into the bathroom for a washcloth and cleaned them both up. James was still recovering when Declan finished and turned the tables on him. “Not yet...”
“Now, right bloody now.”
James sighed, “Oh all right.”
Declan proved an even more impressive than the last time, and after another orgasm for each of them, James huffed, “I think once a year is all we'll be able to manage without killing each other.”
They shared the last of the bottle of whiskey and James was gone in the morning before Declan woke up.
His prediction about the hickeys was spot on and he drove home with a sense of pride. He gave it two years, at most, before Declan would be officially on the Sanctuary payroll and his to have on more than just Boxing Day.