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Jamie is grateful that Aidan is just as insatiable as he is, because the moment Aidan was out of the shower this morning, they were at it again. And again after lunch. Even as the knock on the door comes this evening, they're snogging on the couch and entirely ruining everything Jamie'd done to look presentable. He reluctantly pries himself out from under his boyfriend and murmurs, "You're my favorite," just before he heads to the door. Turning on his casual, laid-back charm, he swings the door open and greets all four men warmly.

"So, uh, this is Aidan -- we met on Mortal Instruments all those years ago. Aidan, this is Roland, Tristan, Jimmy, and obviously this one is Sam." He gestures with the introduction, indicating who's who.

Each of the men takes turns shaking Aidan's hand, and eyeing the marks and Aidan suspiciously when it isn't their turn to directly interact with him.

"It's really great to meet all of you," Aidan says, and hopes that his grin hides how nervous he feels. Making the acquaintance of girlfriends' friends has always been nerve-racking for him, and it turns out that getting introduced to Jamie's friends is no different at all. "I hear about you all the time." He slants a bright smile at his lover.

You do? Jamie quirks an eyebrow at Aidan as he gives an amused smile. Sam is already helping himself to a round of beers from the fridge -- the similarities are showing quickly. Roland and Jimmy swiftly dismiss whatever thoughts they had and head for the couch, realizing quite readily that they don't care if Jamie's screwing the guy, but Tristan takes an extra minute.

"Mhm," he sounds unimpressed. "I might've heard a lot about you, too," he says just before glancing at Jamie, and then back to Aidan. "But there's no way you're the--"

Tristan gets cut off by Sam rather strategically declaring "Beer!" as he sets a six-pack on the coffee table. He grabs a pair and walks over, shoving them into Tristan's and Aidan's hand as he addresses his bandmate. "If Jamie wants to declare his undying love for someone, we all know bloody well he'll do it, so leave the guy alone."

Aidan blinks, then shrugs. "If that happens, I hope I get to be there for it." He cracks open his beer and generally toasts the room. "Is everyone excited to tour?"

Jamie gives Aidan an apologetic look and pats Sam on the shoulder in thanks. The question is met with mixed responses, Roland and Sam being the only two who seem actually excited for it. Once everyone is settled on the couch, Jamie and Sam take drinks for themselves, but while Sam is content to fade into the background, Jamie is now making himself the center of attention in the discussion of touring.

"You know, we played a festival early last Autumn and it went quite well! Well, for me at least," Jamie boasts slyly.

His comment is met largely with derision except by Jimmy, who gives a complaint of substance. "It went well on stage, but when you took off with whoever he was, there wasn't much of a fan base that stuck around."

"Plus I think you were still high the next day," Sam adds.

"Not still! Again." Jamie retorts, as if somehow that makes it better.

Raising an eyebrow, Aidan shoots his boyfriend a dry look, tolerably amused. "Perhaps your next experience will be different," he murmurs.

"It will be different!" Jamie declares, although mostly it's reassurance for Aidan. "I know I'm the famous one, so I won't abandon the band after shows anymore." He's playful in his condescension, but it's definitely still condescending. "And, as an added bonus, I'll leave all the women to you lot."

"What, 'cause you'll settle for the blokes just fine?" Roland laughs, and seems to be the one least bothered by Jamie's attitude.

"He's already settled." Aidan's a little surprised by the cavalier attitude, and reflects that seeing Jamie among his friends is interesting for several different reasons. "Surely you're not all single," he guesses. "Do you bring your girls on tour?"

"Sam and I have girlfriends," Tristan informs. "They won't be joining though. Mine hates the crowds and his has Uni." On Sam’s part, that’s a total lie, but it’s one the whole band believes.

"Plus it's just better to keep home and business separate in my experience," Jimmy adds.

"Ah." God, that just sounds foreboding. Aidan glances sidelong at Jamie, but tries to curb any further furtive looks. Not the place, and definitely not the time.

"Forgive him, he has this bizarre notion we're professionals," Jamie teases. "Of course if Rachel wants to join us for a show or two, she'll be welcome." He's addressing Sam, but also testing the waters. No one seems to have any objections, but Jamie and Sam exchange some kind of loaded look just before Sam abruptly changes the subject to something apparently quite controversial -- what kind of pizza to order.

With the guys distracted, Jamie pulls his phone out and texts Aidan from right beside him.

To Aidan: You sure you're not gonna care if they know about us? Because I almost just said something.

At this point, Aidan feels like he's got no idea what's going on. The atmosphere in the room feels thick and strange, Jamie's friends seem inexplicably tense, and the text his lover just sent him is simply baffling. Fuck it, he thinks, and reels his boyfriend in for a passionate kiss.

"Aidan, what-" His voice was very quiet, almost meek as Aidan pulled him in, but the kiss has him absolutely grinning and giving back as good as he's getting.

"Called it," Jimmy says, as if he really does think it had been clever of him to catch on.

"Oh shut up, we all called it," Roland playfully throws a small couch pillow at Jimmy and adds, "And for the last time, we're not getting sausage. You all know how much I hate fennel." He moves on quickly, largely unfazed.

Fennel? This is all making less and less sense. Aidan tangles his fingers in Jamie's hair and kisses him again. "You're my favorite."

Jamie returns the affection by curling his hand in Aidan's shirt. His voice is quiet as he explains, "You're my favorite. And judging by the fact that they're still arguing about pizza -- a common occurrence, I assure you -- I think it's safe to say they don't really care about this."

"Good." Aidan eases back enough that he can see his lover's face, and twirls a lock of Jamie's hair around his fingers. "Do they ever stop arguing?"

"Rarely," Jamie grins and nestles himself in under Aidan's arm to snuggle. "None of it's ever serious, though. We actually do get along."

And it does only take a few more minutes before they're settled and Roland excuses himself to call the delivery place, and the group refocuses.

"So, how long's this been going on?" Tristan asks the happy couple.

"A month?" Aidan answers, and finally forces himself to look away from his boyfriend's eyes, as if to acknowledge that other people do still exist. "Since Christmas. It was a long while in the making, though."

The implication that Jamie hadn't been the only one thinking about it for a while before it happened makes him blush just the faintest.

"You went all the way to New York to visit an Irishman?" Jimmy laughs.

"Well, he was worth it," Jamie says with complete sincerity before kissing Aidan again.

Aidan beams and hauls Jamie close again. Reluctantly steps back when he realizes he's on the edge of being highly inappropriate for company, and this is decidedly not Citadel.

"Oh, get a room," Roland says as he re-enters, and his tone is entirely playful.

Jamie sticks out his tongue at Roland, equally playful, and shoots back, "How lucky that this whole flat is my room." He slips his hand into Aidan's and then gestures towards the really nice, empty recliner. "Want me in your lap?"

"Pretty much always," Aidan agrees. He sits, happy with his armful, although he's got his doubts as to whether the band's comfort zone will extend quite so far. Nevertheless -- it is Jamie's place. "How long have you all known each other?"

Jamie settles in on Aidan and sighs happily at the feeling of being close. "Well, Tristan and I met when we were, what, eight?" Tristan nods in agreement. "And then Jimmy used to be a corrections officer, so we met in prison about um, God, ten years ago now?" Jamie just keeps going, not leaving room to question that little tidbit just yet. "And then Roland sort of... I don't actually totally recall how we met, um, but it was maybe four years ago? And then of course, Sam is our brother - my brother."

"Our brother," says everyone else.

Aidan nods automatically, then puts up his hand. "Hold on. You met in jail?"

"Burglary," Sam informs.

"Drug possession," adds Tristan.

"And public intoxication," Jimmy reminds.

Roland laughs while Jamie rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. "Don't believe any of them. It was research for The Prisoner." He taps the tattoo on his left shoulder with his left thumb, the ball and chain with '11-12' inscribed near it. "Although, in fairness, those are all things I've done."

With a laugh, Aidan says, "Your friends all say such lovely things about you!" He slips his arm around his boyfriend's waist, discreetly snuggling him a little closer.

"They tend to speak in half-truths," Jamie grins. "At least when it comes to me." Not only does he snuggle closer, but he takes the opportunity of 'repositioning' to subtly wiggle his hips over Aidan's lap because he can hardly resist the temptation to tease.

"So, what is it you were doing in New York?" Jimmy asks.

"Hmm?" There's no hope of Aidan playing the moment off casually, not when he's hopelessly distracted by Jamie's ass, fuck. "Oh. I was filming," he finally manages to answer. And breathes against his lover's ear, "Behave."

Jamie does as he's told, but not without a bit of a sly smile. "Aidan's opted to remain an actor, which is good because he's far better at it than I ever was. I can assure you he's not nearly as blood-thirsty or brooding as his characters might lead you to believe."

"You sure about that? Seems like he was trying for blood by the look of you," Sam comments, smiling like he knows he's being a smartass.

Aidan's eyes fly wide open at the comment - from Jamie's brother no less, god - and he feels his face flush hot. "Didn't quite make it, this time," he says, smiling sheepishly and tracing a livid mark with his fingertip. "I'll have to try again."

Sam's comment doesn't much faze him, but the one from Aidan, combined with the touch, well, even Jamie blushes at that, which tends to be a difficult feat. He still loves the attention, though. Tristan rolls his eyes, Sam smiles and laughs, and Roland playfully reiterates, "Didn't I tell you two to get a room?”

"I barely touched you," Aidan murmurs to his boyfriend in mock protest. Of course then he ruins his affectations of innocence by licking the bruise.

Jamie shivers pleasantly at the feeling of Aidan's tongue and damn-near beams at how unashamed he's being. Having seen this plenty of times, though usually with Jamie doing the licking, the guys mostly just roll their eyes and move along the conversation.

Aidan grins and kisses Jamie on the mouth, but doesn't let either of them linger over it. "Hey, question," he says to the room at large. "How drunk do I have to get you all before you start offering up juicy stories on this one here?"

Jamie really couldn't possibly be happier and it certainly shows -- well, until that question.

"Depends," Tristan muses. "Stories that are embarrassing to any normal person, or stories that are embarrassing to Jamie, because I think he's somehow genetically impervious to it. Sam's the same."

"Am not. I just avoid doing things I'd be embarrassed for people to hear," Sam says calmly.

Grinning, Aidan clarifies, "How about a story of Jamie that embarrassed one of you, though perhaps not him." He tucks a lock of blond hair behind Jamie's ear.

"So most of the time we're in public together?" Roland teases. "Definitely more drunk than this, at least for me."

"Welllll..." Tristan muses. "I'm sure you've heard the story about the Dylan tattoo from his perspective, but it was mortifying from mine."

"For the record, I wasn't even drunk."

"Yeah, yeah, you always say that like it's some kind of defense."

"He's hardly ever been drunk around me at all. He's just naturally this charming," Aidan protests, grinning at his lover. Somehow he manages to transfer his attention back to Tristan. "So, Bob Dylan?"

"It was over an argument - one that was had loudly. In a pub. In Westham. I wasn't paying attention to when or how it started, but Jamie and our old mate Devon start arguing about who the greatest musician of all time is, and apparently it's definitely either Bob Dylan or Beethoven."

"In all fairness, I don't think that now and I don't think I thought it then, I was more arguing for the sake of it," Jamie interjects.

"Yeah, right, in all fairness you were even more of an arse. Glad we got that cleared up." Tristan continues. "So, in order to prove that their candidate is the best - which, mind you, I've no idea how this proves anything but the stupidity of those arguing - they decide to get tattoos, because if the undying conviction of a teenager isn't enough to prove an artist's musical worth, I don't know what is."

Aidan laughs out loud, tickled. "I like him. Does he write any of the lyrics?" he asks his boyfriend. "Did Devon just completely chicken out, is that how it went?"

"I do most of the writing," Jamie huffs. "But yes, he does."

"Chicken out? That is how Jamie would put it. I'd say Devon wised up and decided to not permanently mark his skin for worse than no reason, something Jamie has clearly never entirely grasped. And, for the record, the argument continued all the way to the parlor, and all the way until Jamie went under the needle."

"What was the bit that bothered you, the public disagreement?" Aidan can't get a good read on Tristan; can't figure out whether he even likes Jamie.

"Disagreement is an understatement, but that it was a public disagreement about whether Bob Dylan or Beethoven was the greatest musician of all time, and that I was, by default, on the side of Bob Dylan. Plus the um... vicarious? Vicarious embarrassment of getting an arse tattoo. You know," he turns his attention to Jamie, "If you'd been getting ink even marginally less stupid, you probably could have slept with the artist. She was stunning."

"You think I didn't?" Jamie raises an eyebrow and Tristan just rolls his eyes.

Aidan ignores the last bit. He doesn't want to think about Jamie fucking a stunning stranger, especially when he couldn't even watch. "Better Bob's name than his face, at least there's that."

"At least there's that. Small miracles, eh?" Tristan raises his bottle in toast. A moment later, the intercom buzzes and Jamie stands to go collect and pay for the pizza.

A quiet mental voice warns Aidan to take his own advice and behave. His body, however, ignores the voice completely, head turning to check out Jamie's ass when he walks away.

Tristan seems to be the only one who notices, and he gives a small smile. Once Jamie is out of the flat, he leans forward and looks Aidan in the eyes. "You two aren't just fucking around? You really like him?"

Aidan raises an eyebrow, surprised by the question. The implications. "I'm crazy for him," he answers quietly. "I want him happy."

Everyone else is quiet and watching the exchange as if they've seen it before, like they're waiting to see which way the dice will fall. Tristan gives long, appraising look over Aidan. "We've never seen him in an actual relationship with a man before. That doesn't bother you, that you're not his usual type?"

"He's not my type, either," Aidan confesses with a laugh. "I've never even dated a man before." His eyes grow more serious as he looks around the room, sizing them up in turn. "I suppose you've all watched him crash and burn before. A few times?" he asks, thinking about Jamie's other tattoos.

"Several," Sam says, voice quiet.

Tristan nods in agreement. "With the kinds of women he usually brings home, Sam and I are never surprised when the inevitable happens. Not since Bonnie, anyway. She was great for him. But you've got a lot working in your favor at the moment, Turner. Keep being yourself and chances are good I'll be welcoming you to our mad family by the end of the night."

Holding Tristan's gaze for a moment, Aidan nods. Although he does wonder what it is he's got going for him, aside from being not-Bonnie. "He mentioned your parents are really proud of you," he comments, looking at Sam.

Tristan smiles, satisfied, and stands to get more beer for everyone just as Jamie is coming back in.

"They are, but they're vaguely narcissistic and I'm their Golden Child so it doesn't take much," Sam explains rather matter-of-factly.

"Ahh." Aidan looks up and gives his boyfriend a bright smile. "Grab me a slice, love?" he requests, and cracks open a couple beers. Brushing past Jamie with a murmur of, "You're my favorite."

"Of this lot? I should hope so," Jamie whispers back with a grin. He sets the pizzas on the island in the kitchen and puts a few slices on a plate that he's decided they'll share.

Aidan grins and takes his seat again, even happier once Jamie is in his lap once more. The conversation returns to neutral ground as they all dig into their dinner.

As the night wears on Tristan continues to warm up, even with consuming considerably less alcohol than all his bandmates except for Sam. It's only just past midnight when, somewhere between the affection, mutual teasing, and liquor, Jamie can't stand to keep his hands to himself. He tactfully excuses himself and his boyfriend, explaining that they have a big day tomorrow, and despite protests from his mates, he takes Aidan by the hand and leads him to their bedroom. The second the door is closed, he's stripping both of them out of their shirts.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Aidan asks with a grin, letting himself be undressed. "I mean, if we need to make an early night of it..." He cups Jamie's ass and grinds against him, already aroused and half hard. "I guess I could just let you sleep."

Jamie damn-near purrs as Aidan pushes against him, and he brings his arms up to loosely drape over his boyfriend's shoulders. He arches an eyebrow and smirks as he drags his teeth over his lower lip. "Well, it had better not be early in the morning, but I did have a thought about plans for tomorrow. Wanna get me pierced?"

Aidan blinks in surprise. "Fuck yeah, I do," he answers, his brain hurtling into overdrive. He steps back to dig his phone out of his pocket. "I need to call Citadel and find out if any of their body mod people will be available."

"I know a professional who's available and a member, not sure if he's staff or not. He did my last one. But if you'd rather go with someone who's definitely a staff member, well..." Jamie shrugs and smiles, "You're the boss, it's entirely your decision."

"That's one more person to negotiate with," Aidan muses, visualizing the process. "Do you know if he'd be up for it?"

Jamie swallows and considers how many questions his honesty will bring about. Ultimately deciding to go with the truth, he answers, "He did my apadravya, which was part of a very, um... intense scene, and he was only involved as a piercer, so he'd probably be up for it."

Aidan sits down on the bed and studies his lover, considering. "Who else was part of that scene?"

"A House Dom," which is true, but he's not very good at concealing that there's more to it when he's as tipsy as he is.

There seems to be something... off, about that answer. "A House Dom I should know about?"

"... I'm not having this conversation without more liquor," which is as good as a huge 'yes', he realizes. "Get the vodka or whiskey and I'll tell you about it. Or, better option, we move on and forget this part of the conversation ever happened."

Aidan steps back, genuinely uncomfortable with his lover's evasions. "We can move on," he agrees quietly, "but we're not moving forward with this scene until you clue me in."

Jamie sighs deeply and nods. "Well played and certainly fair." He takes a seat on the foot of the bed and fidgets with his nails a minute, working up to it. "Remember when we talked about roleplaying, and I'd mentioned I'd done a bit of it with someone at Cit?"

"Yeah. You said you were playing out a storyline. Several visits with the same person," Aidan recalls. He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets.

"Well, he's a House Dom. We got to know each other through the roleplaying, built trust and all that. So when I got serious about the piercing and realized I would need someone to push me, I asked him to do it." Jamie is still fidgeting with his nails, still unsure how much Aidan needs to know.

Aidan's brow furrows. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but Jamie's answer seems a bit anticlimactic. "Okay. Are you... worried that I won't be able to push you hard enough, like he did?" He's unaware of just how much his question reveals about his insecurities.

"What?" He looks at Aidan now, brow furrowed. "Of course I'm not. I love you, you can push me hard enough to do anything without... even..." He just stops talking entirely as he realizes what he just said.

"You... What's that, now?" A smile starts to glimmer in spite of Aidan's anxiety.

Jamie certainly can't un-say it, and he does mean it, so after a beat he just dives right in, fuck the consequences. "I love you. It's what I mean every time I tell you you're my favorite. I love you and I've been afraid to say it."

Now Aidan pushes off from the refuge of the wall and joins Jamie on the bed once more. "Why afraid?"

"Because I know it's fast, and I know I've handled relationships so wrong for so long. I'm afraid that at best you won't believe me, and..." His voice is starting to falter, eyes going a bit glassy. "And at worst, you'll think I'm being reckless and stupid again and you'll be nowhere near reciprocating and you'll... not want to be with me anymore?"

Aidan studies him for a long moment, then follows the angle of Jamie's cheekbone with his finger. "Do you really think that's likely?" he asks, his tone gentle. "Because I think it's impossible." He kisses his lover, lingering over his lips.

The relief Jamie feels is tangible in the way his shoulders relax and his fingers uncurl. He exhales, slow and jagged as he lets go of the fear and tension, and he presses his hands to Aidan's chest as they kiss. "You're definitely my favorite," he murmurs against his boyfriend's lips as he pulls away from the kiss, "And I love you."

"I think you're mad," Aidan tells him with a fond smile. "And I'm in love with you, too."

Jamie is stunned, never considered it a realistic possibility that Aidan would ever be in love with him, let alone this quickly. "You're in love with me?" His voice is quiet, his question rhetorical, he mostly just needs to hear it again to start believing it. With a slow, pulsing warmth spreading through his body, he brings a hand up to cup Aidan's cheek and kisses him again, gentle and sweet.

"I'm crazy about you," Aidan whispers into the kiss. And perhaps the emphasis there should be on crazy. But Jamie confessed his own feelings first, so Aidan doesn't have to worry about having influenced or pressured him one way or another. He can simply be honest, and he honestly adores his boyfriend.

Jamie moves up the bed just enough for him to lie back properly, and then drags Aidan down into another kiss. It's hotter this time, more wanting, but just as slow as the last. "Show me," he murmurs.

"Show you? One little 'I love you,' and you've gotten all demanding," Aidan teases him, but he's already unbuckling Jamie's jeans and tugging them down his long legs.

"Oh, trust me, I can get much worse," he teases right back, but his voice is still quiet, he doesn't want to break the mood. Jamie does what he can to assist in getting himself undressed and sits up enough to go after Aidan's belt, though he's in no literal position to strip him.

Aidan shivers when he pulls off the last of his clothing. The air has a winter bite, but it's nothing compared to the shock of lying nude next to his lover, their bodies pressed together full-length. He caresses Jamie's hip and kisses him again, slowly thrusting his tongue inside.

Jamie opens up easily, always pliant but never passive when it comes to Aidan. He softly rakes nails down Aidan's chest and grips his side, fingers digging in. "I love you," he whispers, because it feels electric every time he lets that word pass his lips.

Grinning, Aidan ducks his head and licks at Jamie's nipple, then takes it into his mouth to suck. Thinking about tomorrow, and what it'll all mean, each rub of his tongue spiking his arousal higher.

The pleasure makes him exhale, sharp and jagged as his back arches and pushes forward. He tangles his hand in Aidan's curls, gripping a little more, breath becoming more of a pant every time his boyfriend's tongue makes contact. "Fuck, fuck, Danny, make it hurt, please," he begs quietly.

"You sound so fucking sexy," Aidan gasps, feeling the tingle of Jamie's responses everywhere throughout his body. He sucks again, rolling the hard peak between tongue and lips. And then bites, all but gnashing his teeth together.

"Fuck!" Jamie whimpers loudly but arches into Aidan even more. He's fully hard now, skin flushed and breath heavy - his whole body reacting keenly to the pain. "Yes, yes, yes, thank you."

"They'll hear you." Aidan grins and nibbles roughly on Jamie's other nipple. The prospect clearly doesn't faze him in the least. "Do you want them all to know?"

Jamie grins back, and just barely manages to answer through soft, needy noises. "Like they don't already? Anyone who sees us can see what a slut I am for you." If the slight push and roll of his hips is any indication, the thought of others knowing exactly what's going on is certainly doing something for him.

"Slut is right. I think you want it almost as much as I do." Aidan grinds his teeth together on his mouthful.

He gives a stuttered whine, jaw dropping and voice getting a bit louder than the soft noises of a moment ago. "W-want what, exactly?" Because fuck, he wants to hear Aidan say it.

"I want to be inside you." Aidan fits his hand around Jamie's throat, holding him in place. "I want to fuck you until you scream."

Instinctively, his hips push forward harshly at Aidan's declaration, fuck you until you scream. He nods slightly, as best he can with a hand fixed over his throat, desperation already starting to pool in his chest, and swallows just to feel the resistance against his boyfriend's hand.

Reaching back, Aidan gropes blindly on the nightstand until his hand closes over a familiar bottle. He slicks his fingers with lube, and his breath catches as he pushes between his lover's thighs, pressing one long finger into his hole.

With as often as they've been fucking the last two days, Jamie's tight but also fairly pliant. The welcome intrusion elicits a quiet moan, and Jamie rocks his hips against Aidan's hand.

"Yes, love," Aidan breathes, fucking two fingers in. "Open for me. Show how much you want me." Three fingers, and he can't make himself wait anymore. He kneels between Jamie's legs, pulling him up onto his thighs. Holds him open and slowly pushes his cock inside.

Jamie's always very expressive, sometimes quiet, but always vocal, and as Aidan fingers him open, it's no different just because there are people in the next room. He spreads his legs eagerly when Aidan decides that he's ready, and forces his hips still until he's completely filled. "Yes, yes, yes," he encourages with each inch, voice still hushed. "Please, I need it."

"You have me. All of me," Aidan whispers, starting to move deep within him.

It's entirely unfair how easily Aidan can take him apart, but as much as he hates it, he kind of loves it, too. He uses his hands to drag his lover down, bringing them face to face, craving the intimacy. "You're perfect, absolutely perfect, everything you do feels incredible."

Perfect... Perfect is a hell of a long shot, to Aidan's mind. But Jamie certainly says all the right things. He smiles faintly and kisses his boyfriend, tongue moving in a rhythm to match his hips.

Jamie moans softly against Aidan's lips and starts to push back, fucking himself on his boyfriend's cock. The angle is working wonders for him, and Jamie is starting to realize the steady but slow rhythm is exactly right if they can both have the patience to keep it up.

Aidan moans softly at a rush of pleasure, his heart skipping. "You're so beautiful. So good for me," he whispers. It's easy to let himself go, here in the darkness like this, alcohol still coursing through his veins and the world feeling like it stops at the walls of this room. "You feel amazing, Jamie."

"I love the way my name sounds when you say it." He's blushing, but with the dark and his face and chest already hot, it would be hard to tell. "And I love the way that my body feels when you play it, and I love the way you look at me, especially when you think no one notices, and I love that you took a chance on me. I love you, Aidan."

God, when Jamie talks like that... Aidan simply melts. Sitting back on his heels, he slides his hands down to Jamie's wrists, drawing them above his head. Holding him there while his hips gradually pick up the pace, his breathing faster and choppier.

As is his habit, Jamie pushes against the pin just to test it and prove to himself how much control he doesn't have. He loves being restrained so long as it doesn't come with actual restraints. At a point in Aidan speeding up, Jamie stops him, begging, "Wait, wait, just like that. Fuck, Danny, keep fucking me just like that, please."

The corner of Aidan's mouth turns up in a faint smirk. "Like this?" he asks, his voice husky. And he tries to match the rhythm to exactly what Jamie wants, thrusting again and again and focusing on the smooth slide of their bodies together.

His voice is definitely getting louder now as he goes back to the familiar mantra of "Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes, Aidan." He curls his fingers, adjusts his hips just the slightest to get the angle exactly right. "I think I can-- God, I fucking know I can like this, just like this, just from you fucking me."

"Do it," Aidan growls. Any second now he'll go up in flames, and it'll all be over. He wants his lover there first.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His voice is getting louder, more desperate the closer he gets. His legs shudder as he tries to keep his body still, tries to just focus on Aidan and the way he's moving until, "Fuck!" He comes with a whimpered shout, tensing around Aidan's cock and pulling against his grip, making his own pleasure all the more intense.

Aidan follows him over the edge in an instant, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to hold back his own shout. He rocks against Jamie, thrusts shallowly through the aftershocks. And eventually loosens his hold of his boyfriend's wrists. He brings one then the other to his lips before he eases out and lies down.

Being monogamous has its perks, and one of them is definitely Aidan filling him up without a barrier. As he pulls out, Jamie grins, delighted at the slick feeling. There's nothing quite like it. Rolling over, he drapes an arm over Aidan's chest and nuzzles against his neck. "I love you."

Smiling a little, Aidan huffs a soft laugh. "I didn't think I'd be hearing that again from anyone who actually knows me," he says quietly, trying to turn it into a joke. But the words fall flat, even to his ears.

"I know that feeling." His voice is warm, tone compassionate. "I hope you know that I mean it."

"Yeah, I believe you," Aidan says, putting his arm around Jamie to cuddle him closer. "Because I love you, too. And the two of us can be terribly wrong options, but right for each other."

"I like that," Jamie smiles and closes his eyes. "Except I'm pretty sure anyone would be lucky to have you," he murmurs sleepily.

Aidan smiles. "Don't need anyone else," he murmurs, and pets Jamie's hair. "Go to sleep, love."