Work Header

Don't You Remember Makin' Baby Love?

Work Text:

Bob and I we're lying in bed smoking a joint.

We'd just gotten back from some party, and I'm pretty sure we were high enough already, but Bob insisted that we smoke this joint.

Some things never change.


It's now the end of 1966, December, and it's almost the end of my tour as well.

Bob and I plan on living together in Seattle once the tour is over. He said I need a break, and although my manager didn't want me getting too relaxed, Bob said fuck him. I'm pretty sure there will be a break for Christmas. Not sure how long it will be though.

I've got 2 more dates left until the end of the tour, and then Bob and I can finally have some peace, some content alone time with guarantee of no interruption.


Bob's head rests on my chest as he takes a puff from the joint, “Jimi,” He says suddenly and I look down at his pretty face, running my fingers through his hair.

I cut his hair a few weeks ago, so now it's back to the length that it was when I met him in May, 7 months ago. Still long but not overly.


“Yeah, baby?” I say lowly, taking the joint as he passes it to me.

“I can't give you children, you know, but I'll be good to you I promise.” His voice is drawled with his high and I close my eyes smiling as I shake my head.

He always gets like this after a long night.

“Baby, I don't need any children, all I want is you.” I assure him, and he pouts, shaking his head at the joint as I hold it out to him. He rolls off my chest and pulls the blankets over himself, his back to me.

“Oh come on, Bob, don't think about stuff like that.”

“You're going to want kids someday Jimi, even though you might not think so now.”

I roll my eyes and move over to him, wrapping him in my arms, “Hush, baby, I don't want any kids unless I could somehow have them with you. And since we know that's impossible, I don't want any kids, alright?”

“Beautiful mixed children we'd have, Jimi." He continues to muse, "With your brown skin, except a bit lighter. Hopefully they'd get nothing of mine.”

“Oh stop that.”

I can hear Bob sniffling and I know he's crying over this nonsense now.


“Baby go to sleep.” I try not to laugh, because it's so cute when he gets moody about such random things.

“Okay.” He whispers, “Goodnight, Jimi.”

“G'night, lover man.”




The next morning, we're woken up by the sounds of someone pounding on the door.

“Jimi, wake the fuck up! We have to leave in 15 minutes!”

Bob groans and curls himself around my side, as I sigh and open my eyes to stare at the ceiling, “We have to get up, babe.”

He whines in protest, “I just want to lay here with you all day, Jimi.”

“I know, me too baby, but we have to go, come on, just get dressed and you can sleep in the car.”

The noise he let's out is almost vicious as he forces himself from the bed and to his suitcase to grab some fresh clothes.

I can't help but laugh as I watch him struggle to get dressed.

“Fuck you.” He hisses at me without looking my way.

“Love you too.” I grin.




In the car, his head rests on my shoulder as he sleeps and I look over at my fellow band mates who are forever confused by our relationship.

“He had a long night.” I tell them.




We get to the new venue that we're playing at tonight and they let us walk around and check it out a bit, before we get back into the car and head to the hotel we'll be staying at tonight.

We get to our hotel room and Bob falls to the bed almost instantly, “I wanna sleep so damn bad.” He says, and I grin, staring down at him.

“Go to sleep then, baby.”

He sighs, “I slept so much in the car though.”

“Yeah, you did but that's okay, sleep some more.”

“Only if you come lay with me.”


I never deny him anything his precious little heart desires.


I move onto the bed and wrap my arm around his waist, pulling us close together.

I press my face into his neck and kiss, he giggles lightly, “How long do we have?” He turns to face me and I'm more amused than words can say.

“I thought you were tired, baby?” He presses his lips to mine, wrapping his arms around my neck, he pulls me on top of him.

“Never too tired for making love.”

I grin against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Jimi.”




So I've got Bob's pretty little body bouncing in my lap, and his moans are ringing out in the air, when there's a knock on the door.

I cuss and grab onto his hips, stopping his movements and he whines out, “Fuck, Jimi, why?” He wraps his arms a little too tightly around my neck.

“Someone is knocking.” I tell him, and I just want him to start riding me again, but I can't. I hold his hips firmly and call out.

“Who is it?”

“Jimi, we're leaving for sound check, you got 30 minutes to get ready.”

Bob is trembling in my lap, “30 minutes is more than enough for us to finish up.” He says into my ear and I can't fucking handle it, I cover his mouth and start thrusting up into him again, and his little moans are muffled behind my hand.

“Okay, I'll be down in 30 then.” I call to whoever is at the door.

Bob pins my hands down away from his hips, and leans down to kiss my lips while he rolls his hips down into mine, “Fuck yeah.” I cuss against his lips and he smiles.

“I can't wait til we're in Seattle and can do this uninterrupted.” He says and I couldn't agree more.




At the show, I look down into the crowd, seeing Bob sat next to some of my pals and he's smiling up at me, looking all beautiful with his blue eyes gleaming. I smile back, winking at him.

He's so beautiful, and all mine.




In the limousine on the way back to the hotel, I'm sat next to Bob, really wishing I could kiss him right now, but everyone is here.

So we just lean in really close and whisper to each other.

“You did really good tonight, baby.” He says to me, and I look at his soft features, smiling at him happily.

“Seeing you in the crowd made me really happy, usually you're watching from backstage.”

“Because I don't want to get attacked by teenie boppers.” He laughs and so do I, wrapping my arm around his waist in the most friendly manor I can achieve.

“You're my best friend.” I whisper to him and he smiles, trying to seem as normal as possible with everyone around us right now.

“You're mine too.” He replies lightly.




Back at the hotel room we order some dinner and wine, and I'm so glad to finally have Bob alone, so I can kiss him.

He's the most beautiful person ever, inside and out. I could never see myself without him now.

“Don't ever leave me.” I whisper to him as we lie on the bed, holding one another.

His eyes are closed as his head rests on my chest, “I won't ever leave you, Jimi.”

I squeeze my arms around him tighter, “Thank you.”



The next day, Bob is telling me how he got a call from Johnny Cash, saying that he'd be in the same city as us today.

Johnny Cash wow, he's a huge inspiration to Bob, I'm sure Bob's excited to see him again. They'd met before I guess as Bob is rambling on to me about the country singer.

I can't get annoyed though, because I'm the same way about musician's I'm passionate towards.


Bob for example.

Before I met him I used to rave on and on about him and how much I loved his music and lyrics.

My friends began to get annoyed, saying jokes like, “Go find him and marry him.” and, “Profess your love to him in a letter.”

I'd just give them the middle finger and tell them to fuck off.

Now I'm with Bob Dylan.

He's my fucking boyfriend.


Life is crazy sometimes.


We'll be in Las Vegas tonight, but the show isn't until tomorrow. We've got a lot of driving to do.

“So did you plan to meet up with him once we get there or something?” I ask him as we sit at the table in our hotel room, eating breakfast.

Bob's just munching on a piece of toast, and I tell him to have some eggs at least.

He just pokes around his food with his fork, more interested in Johnny Cash. He casts me a wary eye though, “You'd be okay with that?”

I shrug, “He's a friend of yours, why the hell not?”

Bob smirks, “Thanks, babe.”

“So does he have a show there tomorrow in Vegas?”

“He has his tonight, but he told me he'd stay until tomorrow so we could see each other for a bit.”

“Nice of him.” I reply and he nods slightly, continuing to poke around at his food, “Bob holy shit, eat.”

He sighs, “I'm not very hungry, baby.”

I shake my head in wonderment, “You never are.”




The rest of the day is spent driving, and if it wasn't for me asking if Bob and I could have our own limo; he would have been grouchy the whole way there.

I rest my head in his lap and he runs his hands through my hair as best as you can run your hands through a black man's afro.


We listen to the radio and talk about random things as usual. Bob eventually get's lost in a song he's writing and I mess around on my guitar a bit, playing random improvisations as usual.

Later we pull over to have lunch at a restaurant. We both end up signing more than a few autographs and someone even shoves a camera in our faces.

“So I heard you guys are really close now? Best friends even?” The guys says and Bob looks like he wants to haul off and knock the camera from the guy's hands but he keeps his cool, letting me speak.

“We're good friends, yes. Now if you would leave us alone for a bit so we can have lunch?” I ask politely and the reporter nods, backing off.

“Thank you for your time.”

“Whatever.” I mumble and Bob laughs out loud.

“Don't you just wanna kick 'em sometimes?” He says to me and I scoff at his choice of words.

“Sometimes? How about all the time?” I reply and he snickers.



So we order burgers and I actually get Bob to eat over half of his, and a few fries before he claims that he's full. He does however order several glasses of wine.

When we leave he's hanging onto my arm and thankfully the restaurant manager shooed away the paparazzi.

We stumble back into the car and continue on our trek to Las Vegas.

Bob is babbling about nonsense while watching me play on my guitar lightly. Or at least it sounds like nonsense while I'm into whatever it is that I'm playing. If I wanted to, I could actually get interested in what my drunken boyfriend is talking about.

“You know, Jimi? Like, why am I like...The object of of...Of all these guy's attention?”

I look over at him then, “What guys, Bob?”

He shrugs, throwing his head against my shoulder, “Men, I see them lookin' at me.”

I shrug, “I see women lookin' at you too. As long as they ain't touchin' you,” I put my arm around his shoulder, “I won't cause a riot.”

He snickers and presses his face into my neck, “I love you, Jimi, I do.” He drawls out and I have to laugh, because he's so drunk and it's really cute.

I turn my head and press my lips to his forehead, “You pretty little thing you.”




When we finally get to Vegas it's nighttime. Bob is passed out in the back seat while I sit there strumming on my guitar in the back.

The driver knocks on the door and I look out the window, “Bob, baby, we're here.” I reach over and shake his shoulder. I look around out of the window to see if there's any paparazzi, but they were probably all shooed away before we got there.

“But Jimi, I wanna sleep.”

“Baby we've got a bed to sleep in now alright? Let's go to bed.”

He groans and starts to slide up on the chair, “You promise?”

I chuckle, “Yes, babe, come on.”



I don't know why they got me and Bob separate rooms but apparently they did. My manager says we always get a room together and maybe we'd like our own for once.

“We always get one together because we like hanging out.” I look at him with narrowed eyes.

He ignores me, going on to another topic, “You guys know Johnny Cash is at this hotel?”

Bob's head perks up beside me and looks to my manager, “You know which room?”

Jeff my manager seems amused by Bob's sudden excitement, “He's at a party right now”

“Okay, which room?”

Manager shrugs.

Bob groans, “I'll find out myself then, man.” he turns and heads for the elevator.

“Hey ba--, Bob, wait up let's get settled in our room first, huh?”

“Our room? We're not sharing rooms tonight, Jimi.” He shoots my manager a glare and my manager raises an eyebrow at him as Bob turns back, continuing on.

I glare at my manager, “We were supposed to jam tonight, Jeff, he wrote a nice song.”

My manager shrugs again, “You can share a room, give your room key to me and I'll give it to one of the roadies.”

I toss him my key and run after Bob who just stepped onto the elevator. I've still got my guitar around my neck and I barely make it to the elevator before the doors close.

I smile at Bob, “We're using that room.” I point to the key in his hand.

He gives me a little smirk in return, “One day they're gonna find out about us.”

“Maybe they already have.” I reply and he narrows his eyes.

“Have they?”

I shrug, not concerned with it.



One minute Bob's freaking out about the fact that Johnny Cash is in the same hotel, and the next second he's sucking my dick on the bed while I smoke a joint.

Afterward, Bob tells me he wants to go find Johnny and I almost roll my eyes.

“You just blew me and now you want to run off?” I ask him, taking another hit off of the joint and he shrugs, sitting on his knees at the end of the bed, while I lay against the pillows.

“Come with me.” He says lowly.

I sigh, “I don't know if I'm ready to meet Johnny Cash.”

He grins, “He's a great guy.”

I narrow my eyes slightly, “I just wanna lay here with you, baby.”

He hums low in his throat, “We can do that when we get back.” He climbs off of the bed and goes into the bathroom, while I button up my pants and let out an exasperated sigh.

He practically drags me down the hallways, asking people if they know which room Johnny Cash is in. When someone finally tells us the room number, Bob is nearly running down the halls.


Later on I conclude that I should have just stayed in our hotel room and let Bob come alone. I met Johnny Cash and he seemed cool, he seemed to be the odd one out though, because everyone else was part of the rock and roll scene, not country. He said he only came because he figured he'd find Bob there.

“Instead I found you.” Bob laughs and so does Johnny.

“That you did. Do you guys want a drink or somethin'? I'm 'bout ready to leave this party myself.” He looks around the room, making a face at all of the young people conversing.

Bob smiles, “Sure.”

Then some blonde gal comes up to me looking all starstruck and what not, “Jimi Hendrix?”

And I feel obligated to let her talk my head off since she seems like such a good fan.

Bob brings me a glass of wine, and I thank him with a smile before he goes off to go finish talking to Johnny in the other room.



Bob's P.O.V


“He your new boyfriend or somethin'?” Johnny asks me once he's got me alone in a separate area of the hotel room, away from the party.

I shrug and take a drink of my wine, “Something like that.”

Johnny hums lightly, taking a swig of the beer in his hand.

He's standing in front of me, while I lean up against the wall, “How's June?” I say lowly and he sighs, looking away from me to the ground.

“She's alright.”

I nod, also moving my eyes to the ground.

“I've missed you.” I whisper, keeping my eyes fixed to the ground, too awkward to meet his eyes, because I don't know if he still feels the same way about me.

Then his fingers are at my chin and he's lifting my face to stare at me in the eyes, “I've missed you too, Bobby. But how serious is your relationship with that Jimi guy?”

Pretty serious.

“I've still got feelings for you. I never wanted to leave you.” I look into his dark brown eyes.

“But you did.” He looks almost hurt, but it couldn't be choking him up that bad, because he's still got his wife.

“I'm sorry. I really cared for you it's just...Our jobs are so demanding, it could never work.”

“It's working for you and him though, isn't it? I heard you quit your tour to be with him on his.”

My throat closes up and I look away from his eyes, “Yeah.”

He smiles, “Bobby's first real boyfriend, how sweet.” He teases and I can't help smiling back at him, shoving him playfully.

“You love him?” He asks after our laughs die down and I nod, biting my thumb nail.

“I do.”

“How sweet.”

I shove him again and he just laughs, before motioning me out of the room, “Come on let's get out of here.”




When I walk past Jimi to leave the hotel room with Johnny, he's sat down on a couch talking to some girls and I give him a small wave and he gives me a nod, seeming bored out of his mind.

Poor baby.

Once out of the room and into the quiet hallway, I ask Johnny where we're going. He shrugs and leads me around a corner that leads down to a staircase. Once around the corner, he grabs me and presses me to the wall, pressing his lips to mine before I can have a second thought.

I moan into the kiss and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing my hips forward into his, feeling his erection inside of his pants. He lets out a light groan and I smile as he pushes his hips back into mine and moves his fingers underneath my shirt, before pressing his face into my neck.

I sneak one of my hands down to the front of his pants, rubbing him gently through the cloth.

“Fuck, Bob.” He cusses into my neck and I smile, letting my fingers undo the belt of his pants, just about to slip my fingers inside when a loud voice stuns me still.

“Bob, what the fuck?”

My eyes go wide and Johnny is moving away from me, hastily doing up his pants that I'd just unbuttoned.

“Oh shit, Jimi--”

His eyes are full of shock and pain, “How could you, baby?”

I cuss and reach out for Jimi who only moves back from me, shaking his head as he turns away from me. “I don't even know what to say to you right now, Bob.”

He begins storming down the hall, “I can't fuckin' believe you.”

I walk after him and cry out, “Jimi, please--”

“Save it!” He snaps putting up his hand to block my face.


I just stop walking and watch him go until he's out of sight.


“I'm sorry.” Johnny's voice is light behind me and I shake my head, close to crying.

“It's not your fault.” I turn to meet his eyes, “How long will you be here?”

“I don't want to ruin what you have with him, Bob, he seems to care for you a lot. I leave in the mornin'.”

“What room are you staying in?”


“I'll be in there later tonight and we'll talk, okay?”

Johnny shakes his head lightly as he chuckles, “Alright Bob, I'll see you then.”


Then I head in the direction that my boyfriend went.




After having the fuck of my life, I watch Jimi fall onto the bed exhausted while I still sit there on the table, legs spread, messy as a whore. He was being really rough with me until I told him to ease up. I'll be sore as fuck tomorrow.

I climb from the table and head into the bathroom after Jimi snaps at me to go shower.

I close the door but don't lock it, because he usually comes to join me afterwords, although I doubt he will tonight, seeing as he's so pissed off at me.

I wash myself off slowly, hoping that Jimi will be asleep when I get out so I can sneak out to go see Johnny.


I walk out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist seeing Jimi lying on the bed, with a bottle of whiskey at his lips. His shirt is off and he's staring absently at the TV.

“Ready for bed?” I ask nervously as he meets my eyes for a moment before returning them back to the TV.

“Whatever.” He grumbles, taking another swig of the whiskey.

I sigh and walk over to my bag, pulling out some sleeping pants and a t-shirt. I drop the towel and pull on the clothes before going over to lie on the bed next to Jimi. I take the bottle from his hands and set it down on the nightstand.

He looks at me, his brown eyes narrowed to glare at me, “I was drinking that.”

God his breath reeks of booze, “Not anymore, lets go to bed.” I lean forward and kiss his cheek and he grabs my face to kiss me on the lips.

“I love you, Bob.” He whispers before kissing my neck, his hand moves down to my pants and I push his hand away.

“Go to bed.” I push him down and lay my head on his chest, “I'm tired.”

His fingers move into my hair, “I'm not.”


“I wanna fuck you again, pretty baby.”

“Tomorrow.” I move off of him and turn my back to him to lie down on the bed. He moves up behind me and wraps his arms around me.

“I love you.” He whispers into my ear.

“Love you too, Jimi, now go to bed.”



He passes out fairly quickly, and I give it 30 minutes before I move his arms from around my waist, and get up from the bed.

I take a room key and leave the room as silently as I can, praying that he doesn't wake up when I'm gone.


Johnny's room is on the floor above ours, and so I take the elevator up to the 4th floor.

Once to his door, I knock 3 times, looking down the halls for anyone who might be walking by. Johnny opens his door, and I see he's freshly showered, hair wet and dressed in a plain white t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

He smiles, “Hey Bob, come in.”

I step forward and let him close the door behind me.

“I was getting kind of lonely in here. You want a drink?”

“I'll take a beer.” I see he's got a bucket of ice with beers chilling inside on the coffee table.

“Help yourself.” He motions and I smile, walking forward and take a seat on the couch.

He comes to sit down next to me, wrapping an arm behind me around the back of the couch, “He's asleep?”

“Passed out drunk.”

Johnny clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Bob Dylan, the heart breaker.”

“What?” I narrow my eyes at him after taking a drink of beer.

“He's drinking because of you, man.”

“Jimi always drinks.”

“How long you been seein' him?”

“Since May, we met at a party. I wanted a fuck and he was there.”

“Damn Bob, that's pretty harsh.”

I shrug, “But he ended up being a cool guy, and we didn't fuck until the next morning, we talked all night and made out quite a bit.”

“Interesting.” Johnny mutters sarcastically and I shove him with a smile.


“Unlike you and me, we just fucked right away didn't we?” I ask him while looking down at our hands which somehow ended up intertwined, his thumb stroking my palm.

“I think so.” He scratches the side of his nose, “In your dressin' room or somethin', right?”

“Yeah.” I grin at the memory, remembering how we fucked on the couch in the span of 20 minutes with his wife right in the same building.

“That was fun.” He looks to me and smiles lightly.

I agree with a nod, “It was.”

“Did you want do that now?” He asks and I look to meet his eyes, and I shrug.

“We can if you want to.”

“Of course I do.”

I snicker lightly turning my body toward his, placing my hand over his chest, “She still doesn't compare does she?”

He doesn't say anything to that, just grabs my hips and pulls me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean down to kiss him. He kisses back, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly.

It gets heated pretty quick, and I've got my hand inside of his pants, stroking him gently as we continue to kiss.

“Wanna fuck me?” I whisper into his ear and he moans lowly, nodding as he presses kisses down my neck to my collarbone. “Where?” I ask.

“Right here, take off your pants.”

So I climb off of his lap and tug off my pajama bottoms, throwing them to the ground, before climbing back into his lap. He pulls my shirt off and throws it to the ground with my bottoms.

We make out heavily, and I grind back into his lap, letting his erection rub against my thigh.

Eventually he pulls from my lips and breaths out, “Go get the lotion from the bathroom.”

I bolt from his lap to the bathroom and then get back onto his lap. I hand him the bottle and he asks me if I need any preparation. I shake my head, since I'd just fucked Jimi earlier, I was lose enough still.

He nods and just puts some lotion onto himself before grabbing my hips and lining up with my entrance. I bite my lip and push back, helping him slip in slowly.

I look down to meet his eyes, but his eyes are fixed on the ceiling as he throws his head back, moaning softly.

I press my hands to his chest, which is still covered by his t-shirt. I push his shirt up slightly as my hands move up to his shoulders, nails digging in as he thrusts all the way inside me.

Johnny cusses lightly and kisses the side of my neck, “Still feel so wonderful, Bobby.”

I smile, wiggling my hips and taking in the sounds of his moans, “You too.” I whisper.




I take a quick shower afterwords and before I leave, I give Johnny a gentle kiss on the lips, telling him that I'll see him around.

Thankfully Jimi is still sleeping soundly when I get back to the room. I don't even think he moved his position.

I go to the mini fridge and pour myself a glass of wine before taking a seat at the small table in the corner of the room.

I groan and rest my head on the table, cursing myself for being such a damned slut.




The next morning I wake up in the bed and Jimi isn't even there with me on the bed or in the room. But I do find a note on the coffee table saying he had to go to the venue to prepare for tonight's concert and if I want to come by I can take a taxi.

Could have woken me up and brought me along.

I throw the note into the trash and decide to get dressed.


I call for a taxi and then leave the room heading down the stairs. I put my Ray Bans on, which doesn't really help, because there's still people approaching me and bugging the hell out of me.

“I've got a taxi waiting, I gotta go.” I tell them simply.

Wish I had my body guards here like I did on my tour.

Luckily someone thought ahead of me, and there are soon body guards coming to my side and leading me out to the taxi, telling the fans to back off.

I get into the taxi, sighing with relief when the door is shut and it's quiet, until the taxi driver speaks to me.

“Where to Mister Dylan?”




I get to the venue, a bunch of people are surrounding me and asking me a bunch of fucking questions and thankfully one of the body guards shoves them off and gets me to the back of the venue unscathed.

Jimi is sitting backstage with his guitar, strumming away while some blonde chick sits too close to him for my liking. You think he's playing especially for you, bitch? Then it occurs to me that yes, Jimi may be my boyfriend, but I cheated on him, so I've got no right. I take advantage of the fact that I know he'll never leave me.

He still admires me as much as he did the first day we met. Maybe even more so now.

Although I think we've both changed significantly since then.


I watch his fingers on the guitars, remembering those fingers all over my body, every night, so gentle.

Would he touch that blonde girl the same way?


I keep my sunglasses on, even as Jimi finishes his riff and looks up at me, the blonde girl at his side looking enviously at me for capturing his attention.


“Bobby Dylan,” He states, not flashing me that loving smile like he normally does. Instead he seems to be speaking to me like I'm just another guy.

He stands up from his spot on the stairs next to the girl and walks forward to me. He plucks the sunglasses from my face and narrows his eyes at my now squinted blue ones.

“How'd you sleep?” He whispers and I shrug.

“Fine. You hungover?” I reply looking him up and down to see he managed to dress himself decently enough.

“Nothing I'm not used to, baby.” He looks away from me down to his guitar, “I do however, need more time to recover from seeing you with your hands down Johnny Cash's pants while he had his tongue down your throat.” He strums at his guitar harshly and I feel my face flushing with embarrassment.

I look down at the ground, “Can we not talk about it?”

He shrugs, “Sure, because I'll just be able to get over it that quickly, yeah okay.” He turns from me and leaves the room while still strumming at his guitar angrily.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.




Jimi's tour goes on until the 22nd of December, and then there's a 2 week break for everyone to spend time with their families during the Holidays. Jimi nearly cheered with joy when he found out how long the break was. I was pretty damn relieved too.

Jimi asks me if I want to spend Christmas with him in Seattle, and of course I say yes.

We have our own place together in Seattle now. Everyone just assumes it's because we're good friends. We are good friends, but it's also more than that. They don't need to know that though.

I think Jimi assumed I wanted to spend Christmas back in Minnesota with my parents. Which wasn't the case. I'd always hoped he'd ask me if I wanted to spend it with him. I always figured that's what we'd end up doing anyways.

We are a couple after all.

We don't even get a Christmas tree, let alone anything for a special Christmas dinner. We just buy each other gifts and stay in our apartment, enjoying the time off away from all of the action. It's a great relief.

It's Christmas Eve, and Jimi is jamming out on his guitar while I sit at the table with my typewriter, typing away while the sounds of Jimi's playing soothes me.

“You should write me a song to sing, baby.” He says after a while and I smile, pursing my lips in thought at the words on the paper.

“I'm always writing songs for you.” I look over at him and give him a little smile.

“For me to sing?” He asks.

“Oh, that's what you mean.” I scratch my head, “Well, you could sing any of my songs that you want, Jimi.” I get up from the desk I'm sat at, and walk over to him, “You want me to write one specifically for you to sing? I don't sit down to write a song, Jimi, I just write them when the feeling comes.” I move his guitar aside and climb onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as he wraps his around my waist.

He nods, “I just love your words baby, you write beautifully.” He leans in and kisses my neck and I hum lightly, closing my eyes.

“I've got plenty of unused songs strewn across that desk, just go find one you like.” I lean forward, kissing his lips. “Just give me credit.”

“Of course, baby.” He smiles up at me.


We end up smoking a joint together and having sex right on that couch, before falling asleep in each others arms.

When we wake up it's Christmas morning, but we don't even care enough to move from the couch.

We just watched the TV that we left on over night, It's A Wonderful Life is on and we finish the entire movie before we decide it's probably time to get up.

“That was a really fuckin' good movie.” Jimi mutters as we walk into the kitchen in only our boxers.

“You never saw it before?”

He shakes his head and I snicker, “Wow.”

He makes us eggs and bacon, while I make the toast, spreading them with jam.

“I don't know why you made toast too, baby, it's not you're going to eat all that.” He teases me and I really hate when he teases me about my poor eating habits.

“You just watch me.” I sit down at the table with my plate, ready to take on the challenge.

He sits down across from me, “Alright, we'll see.”

It's tough, but I manage to fight through that breakfast like it's life or death. Jimi applauds when I'm done and I groan at my full stomach, and he laughs.

“Good job, that's the most you've eaten in one sitting since I've met you.”

“Oh shut up.” I get up from my seat at the table, not even bothering to put my empty plate in the sink, “Now I need to go lay down.” I head toward the living room.

I flop down onto the couch, while Jimi puts our plates into the sink before coming to lie on the couch with me.

“So it's Christmas.” Jimi whispers behind me, arms wrapped around my body.

I just hum in reply.

“You want to open your gift from me?” He kisses behind my ear and I close my eyes taking in a deep content breath.

“Sure, you can open yours too then. I got a bunch of gifts from everyone else but I don't really think I want to open them.” I get up from couch, heading for our bedroom, where I had his gift wrapped and hiding in the closet.

“Everyone meaning who?” He calls to me, as he follows behind me.

I shrug, “Who cares, only your gift matters.”

“You get one from Johnny?” His voice is near now and I turn around to stare at him in disbelief.

“Really, Jimi?”

He looks away from me and shrugs, “Just a question.”

“He sent me a letter, that's all.” I say, turning my back back to him as I go into the walk in closet to get his gift.

“Could I read it?”

My heart clenches and I shake my head, “No way.”

I had gotten the letter a few days ago, and had hid it. If Jimi ever got it and read what Johnny wrote, then that would be my ass.

“Really Bob? What have you got to hide from me, hm? I'm your boyfriend...Should I be suspicious?”

My fingers reach up to grab his present but I stop when I hear his words. I bite my lip and turn to see him watching me with that look. God I hate that look.

“It's between Johnny and I, alright?” I reach back up to grab his present, not yet handing it to him though, because he continues to stand there with that look on his face, and I can't handle it. I look away to the carpet.

“You still have feelings for him, don't you?”

My eyes shoot up to meet his, “Of course not, Jimi, you're it for me.”

“I don't believe you. Let me read the letter.”

I shake my head, “No.”

He begins walking forward, “You either let me read the letter, or I'll leave.”

My mouth falls open in a gasp, “Jimi--”

“I'm serious Bob.”

I clench my teeth, “Why do you want to read it?”

He's standing in front of me now, “You know, I haven't been with anyone else since I was with you that night in London, you know that?” He brings a hand up to take the present from my hands, setting it aside.

My heart is beating erratically and I look down, watching his hands come up to rest on my waist.

“Could you say the same thing?” He whispers into my ear, before kissing me on the cheek.

He knows, he just knows.

Might as well tell him.

“Alright, I had sex with Johnny.” The words are shaky as they come from my mouth and Jimi pulls from me almost instantly, staring at me with narrowed eyes.

“Las Vegas?” He asks lowly.

I nod, tears already beginning to fall, “I'm sorry.”

He steps back, shaking his head, eyes staying on me, “Why would you do that?”

I bow my head, shrugging sluggishly.

“If you wanted some dick baby you should have just come to me.”

I ignore his statement, “If I was with him, I would have cheated on him with you too.”

He scoffs, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't know who to choose?”

I shake my head, waving my hands around, “There's no decision to be made. I want you, Jimi.”

“Then why'd you fuck Johnny?”

I shrug, “Because I wanted to fuck him.” That was pretty much the only reason. “It's not because I don't want you anymore, or because you're not enough for me. I just...I don't want to talk about it alright?” I pick up the present he said aside and walk around him to leave the closet.

He follows behind me, “None of my girlfriends ever even cheated on me, damn Bob.”

My gut churns, “I'm sorry, alright?” I turn suddenly, walking up to him, I drop the present to the ground, and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him as deeply as I can.

I pull back to kiss his cheek, then back to his lips, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Forgive me.”

“When did you meet him?”

“In 1964. He came to one of my concerts.” I keep my arms wrapped around his neck, loving the feeling of his arms coming up to wrap around my waist.

“Isn't he married?”


“Shit, Bob.”

I hide my face in his neck, not knowing what to say, “Can we open our presents now?” I whisper and we pull back to look into each others eyes.

He sighs heavily, “Yeah but we're not done talking about this.”

I just nod.


I got Jimi a watch that I bought one day when Jimi was still on tour and I decided to go out and find him a gift since he was busy with some interview.

He seems to like it a lot, grinning genuinely and giving me a sweet kiss on the cheek as I sit in his lap, helping him put the watch on.

“I love it baby, thank you.” He peers up at me with love in his eyes.

I smile at him, entirely too grateful that he didn't leave me even know he knows I cheated on him.

“You're too good to me.” I muse and he looks at me with an honest smile on his face.

“Because I love you.” He picks up the gift for me, and I can't help noticing how small the box is.

Jewelry, oh shit.

“And your gift.” He hands it to me.

I shake my head, “I really don't deserve anything from you. Especially your love.”

“Oh shush, you know how much I love you, baby. Now open it.”

So I do, pulling through the wrapping paper, coming to a burgundy velvet box.

I look up at him steadily, wondering what's inside, and he smirks back at me, “Go on.”

I open the box, nearly gasping at the shiny silver that is revealed. 2 rings sit inside, identical to one another, engraved with the words “Love Only You”.

Tears fill my eyes and Jimi grabs my cheeks, making me look at him, and even he's got a little unshed tear in his eye, “I really hope you stay with me Bobby, never leave me.”

“I won't.” I lean forward until our foreheads are pressed together, “I'm sorry I ever did anything to hurt you.” I press my lips to his again and he makes the kiss deeper, nearly prying my lips apart with his tongue and I moan.

“Why would you ever let anyone else have this?” He stresses desperately into my mouth, gripping onto my thigh tightly as I move my body down into his, moaning as he presses his lips to my collarbone.

He pulls back and grabs up the smaller ring, taking my right hand to slip it onto my ring finger, before putting on his own.

“Promise rings.” He states, smiling at me, “I know it's cheesy but, I want you to be only mine Bob.” He caresses my cheek with his thumb.

“It's not cheesy, baby, I love it.” I smile down at the ring on my finger, “We can pretend we're married now.” I laugh and he gets this look in his eyes.

“Wish I could marry you.” He looks into my eyes and I bite my bottom lip.

“I'd say yes.”

He takes in a deep breath pressing the side of his face to my chest, wrapping his arms around my torso, “We can pretend we're married, indeed.” He whispers, and I wrap my arms around his shoulder's tighter.


It's past noon already.

We smoke some weed and Jimi comments on how he's glad I'm not using anymore hard drugs. “I don't need 'em anymore.” I reply.

We get lots of phone calls from our families all day long, wishing us a merry Christmas. Once it's nighttime we decide to take a nice long bath together in our very large round bathtub. Jimi is lying between my legs, head resting on my chest while I wash his hair gently. I move my legs to wrap them around his torso and he hums lightly.

I wash the shampoo out of his hair and he moves up my body, pressing his face into my neck. I reach my hand down to grab his dick and he moans deeply as I begin to stroke him.

He's already hard and so I whisper for him to put it in me, and I can feel him shudder at my words. He shuffles his hips a little until I can feel the tip pressing at my entrance. “Mmm.” I turn my head to kiss his face, before he thrusts his hips forward and is completely inside of me within the next few seconds.

My mouth falls open and I grip onto his back, listening to him moan.

“Fuckin' hell.” He whispers and I smile against his cheek.

“Come on, fuck me baby.” I move my hips down, gasping at the feeling of him inside of me.

I've gotten used to his size.

“God, you're beautiful.” He hisses, and I grin as he begins moving in and out of me steadily, “So beautiful with those hazy blue eyes and perfect lips.” he kisses my lips then and I'm just starting to get lost in the feelings of the movements of him in me.

I throw my head back against the tub and moan, using my legs to pull him down deeper into me.

“Fuck, oh fuck.” He says into my neck as he begins to fuck me faster and deeper, and I just lie there, moaning and gasping as I squeeze my legs tighter.

“Jimi, mmm, oh.” My body is tingling with the sensations and it's so good.

“That good, baby?” He encourages and I moan louder on one particularly hard thrust of his hips.

“Yeah.” I keen, and the water is sloshing loudly all around us at how fast we're moving, and I almost forgot we were in the tub. I'm only focusing on the wonderful feelings we're creating.

Jimi begins stroking me in time with his thrusts, and I know I'm not going to last very long if he keeps that up. I push his hand away, “I don't need that.” I whisper and he groans loudly, always so pleased that I only need him inside of me to get off. Unless he comes first, which he does sometimes, and then he usually just fingers me until I come.

Suddenly he pulls out of me and I look up at him, confused and then he's motioning me to turn over and I get it. I move on my knees, grabbing the edge of the tub with my hands, looking back at him as he positions himself behind me. He pushes back into me slowly and my mouth falls open, “Fuck, Jimi.” He starts thrusting again, and it's different now that my ass is out of the water, the breeze skating across my back.

Sex with Jimi never got old.


We're laying out on the floor of the living room in front of the TV on our makeshift bed, eating fudge and Christmas cookies brought to us by our neighbors, when Jimi asks me if he can read the letter from Johnny.

I look away from him while licking the melting fudge between my fingers, I shrug, unsure.

He already knows what I did with Johnny in Vegas, but the letter is still really personal.

He puts a hand on my bare shoulder, rubbing it gently.

We didn't bother getting dressed after our bath, just laid down these blankets and snuggled, watching Christmas programs the rest of the day.

“Jimi, I love you okay? I may have messed around but--”

“It's not about that. I already know that, baby.” He leans down, kissing my forehead, “I just don't want there to be anymore secrets between us, you dig?”

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, “Alright.” I stand up from our nest of blankets and head back to our bedroom. Jimi waits for me there.

I go to my side of the bed and open my nightstand drawer reaching under the pile of papers and unfinished songs. I grab the envelope and stare at the front for a minute, eyes scanning over Johnny's handwriting.

My stomach turns as I take the writing paper out to read over the letter for the hundredth time.

December, 15, 1966

Dear Bob,

First off, Happy Holiday's. I hope all is well with you and your man. I've been thinking about you a lot, how I'd love to see you again. Although I now that's probably not a good idea. We always get up to no good when we see each other, don't we? June doesn't even suspect. I guess it's because it's something she'd probably never expect. How's Jimi doing? Is he being okay to you? I hope he isn't holding what happened against you. God only knows what would happen if he found out we did more than what he saw. You think he'd leave you? I hope not.

Anyway, I hope you have a good Christmas and maybe we'll get to see each other someday soon. Without our normal reunion activities of course... But I think we can control ourselves, right?


I cuss lightly and walk back to the living room where Jimi waits, watching me as I walk back into the room with the letter in my hand.

I sit down next to him and hand him the letter silently.

I sit there biting my nail as he reads it, eyes darting from him down to the letter.

He hums as he finishes reading it, “Are you going to write him back?”

I shrug, continuing to bite my nail.

“You should.” He hands the letter back and I fold it back up, looking at him strangely.


He shrugs, grabbing another piece of fudge, “Why not? He's probably waiting to hear back from you.” He suddenly wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me down to lay next to him, “You just make sure you tell him you're mine.”

I laugh and set the letter aside, letting Jimi hold me, I rest my head on his chest enjoying his warmth, “I'll do that.” I whisper, closing my eyes to the feeling of him kissing my cheek.