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you flower; you feast

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Harry is naked, sweat forming between his collarbones and on his forehead, a small drop trickling down where his pleasure trail starts.

His eyes are closed, fingers of both hands gripping into soft cotton, feeling the texture of the pattern as he digs his nails into it. Starting to feels his hearbeat in his throat, it’s hard to focus on anything else but the presence and everything physical, there’s no real use in pretending he’s somewhere else – or that he’s not enjoying this.

James’ hands are surprisingly soft, which had made him jump the first time they touched the bare skin of his arms, probably more than the calloused ridges of the scheming man he had told himself they would be.

He has no idea what time it is, feels like he’s lost sense of when evening turned into night. He thought all of this would be more frantic, clashing mouths and grasping fingers and commanding positions.

This is both better and worse in some way.

He could still taste the tangy sweetness of the wine when James had first kissed him, cupping his cheek and gently but firmly pressing their lips together. And Harry had tried okay, he had really tried, to keep Ste’s face in his mind, imagine it was him he was doing this with instead. That all of this was for him, for them. That the ten thousand pounds were absolutely more than worth it, this bit of carnal flesh he was giving away.

But then he lost control for a second, letting his eyes slip shut completely, and only feeling James’ warm breath against his skin. His tongue teasing his lower lip. Harry was giving himself over.

They had made out for a good while, the older man enjoying Harry tugging off his clothes. Of course his usual snarkiness continued between the sheets, reminding Harry not to just throw his sweater on the floor- it was Italian cashmere after all.

It broke the moment, Harry reminding himself he came here for a reason, that he was sure the other man was not just going to hand out a few grand for some french kissing and touching above the belt.

So he had pushed James down on the bed, a hand on his sternum, and brazing himself before attaching his mouth to the other man’s chest, trying to seem confident in the way he kissed his way down the span of his body.

He’d gotten an amazing few moans out of him, the breathy sounds going straight through Harry and making him get goosebumps,

But then just before he actually reached his goal, sparse curly hair starting to come into his vision, James’ hand had made its way to his chin, making him halt and look up at him confusedly.

Pulled up by the short hair strands at the back of his head, the older man tugged him up and towards him again, almost letting their foreheads drop together to whisper into the space between them ‘Let me take the edge off of you first.’

Harry hadn’t even realized how hard he was, throbbing heavy and pinkly flushed between his own legs.

And that’s how he found himself laid out on his back, the older man hovering over him, a warm hand wrapped around his cock.

His fist working him swiftly, dragging over his sensitive skin with just the perfect amount of pressure. For a sick second Harry thinks about how it’s been a while since someone else has touched him like this, Ste and him constantly fighting and at odds with one another, sleeping in a dusty cold shed, not much time or lust left between them to do anything but wrap up in as many blankets as possible.

It’s such a stark contrast to this, expensive feeling sheets and a wooden headboard he occasionaly slips up and grabs on to. Heat all around him, James warm and solid and so very much not Ste in any way possible on top of him.

The fire continues in his stomach, muscles clenching as he feels himself getting close. James’ thumb glides over his tip, dragging softly on his foreskin and gathering the wetness of precum there down his shaft.

James’ other hand is settled on the inside of his thigh, a nice weight there, occasionally pressing down or tracing back and forth feather-lightly with his fingertips

The soles of his feet push off the bed with the way his upper body arches slightly, mouth dropping open in pleasure, a gasp leaving him. And then James’ nails just ever so faintly dig into his thigh, the fngers on his cock swiping ove the head once more, one of them moving down down near the skin of his balls, and Harry is coming. A groan escaping him, high-pitched and needy, as his release splatters over James’ hand and his own stomach, all the way up to his chest and chin.

That’s when Harry finally opens his eyes again, sees the other man staring completely transfixed at his liquid covered torso and he cringes.

He knows what James must be thinking.

‘Sorry.’, he says sheepishly, leaning up on his elbows. ‘I know I can like..get quite wet.’

He remembers all the times Ste grimaced about it, at the beginning still trying to hide his distaste but later just throwing a tissue at him when he was done, off to wash his hands in the bathroom. He gets it, really, everyone has their dislikes.

Like this, stark naked infront of a man he’s doing this with for the first time, he can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks and down to his neck. He stares down at the come, silently cursing himself for not warning James about it beforehand.

‘What?’, James asks, eyebrows raised in disbelief, voice raspy Like he’s the one who just had an amazing orgasm. He crawls up to Harry again, elbows left and right to his face. ‘Why on earth would you ever apologize for showing me just how much pleasure you were able to get out of this?’

And Harry can only blink dumbly up at him, James’ eyes tracing his face, and god – maybe Harry is really selling his soul to devil right here - but he leans up to kiss him again.


James’ hands shake slightly when they pull off his sweater, like he’s afraid of hurting him. Harry gets it, with the sight he must make. Dark circles under his eyes, purble shades on his face, his lips almost starting to bleed again from being kissed this passionately.

And it doesn’t get better once the sweater is actually off, blue and green around his ribs finishing off the colour palette. Harry reaches out for his hand, lays it on his chest, and presses his own on top of it. It’s alright, he wants to say with it. It’s okay, you can touch me.

‘Please, touch me.’, he says with his words then.

James exhales, looking up from the bruises and into his eyes – where over the pain and the fear and the sorrow – Harry hopes one thing is more than clear at the surface: want

And the other man must see it, with the way he closes the gap between their mouths again and goes for the button of Harry’s jeans.

Harry wills his own hands not to tremble as they go for the buckle of James’ belt – he’s afraid of hurting him too. Is almost certain he will. How can he not? With who he is and what he’s already done. It feels ironic almost, that the pain that he’ll be causing won’t be physical, while he straddles James on the bed, thighs brushing together and wild hands gliding everywhere they can reach.

Harry feels like he’s already slipping away again.

When he takes James into his mouth, saliva gliding over latex, he’s starting to feel complete again. He knows he’s already taken too much from James, doesn’t get why the older man keeps offering, but the satisfaction he gets out of this right here is indescribable. Warm and throbbing flesh in his mouth, filling him, and getting to watch through his eyelashes as this powerful – sometimes inhumanly graceful seeming man – falls apart beneath him, like Harry is the god he’s praying too.

God. Devil. He seems to have been blurring the lines for months now.

When James climaxes, he has his hand buried in Harry’s air, gripping tightly, keeping him grounded. Always, always keeping him grounded.

Harry’s jaw hurts a bit and when he plomps down next to James on the pillows, the older man reaches out to cup it, gently massaging. The grin on his face tells him that’s one discomfort he doesn’t mind seeing on Harry. He can’t say he minds terribly himself, either.

They explore eachother’s bodies with their fingers for a few moments, James tracing his hips and the v-shape of his stomach, gliding backwards and giving his butt cheeks an occasional squeeze. Harry pressing his thigh between his, tugging on his chest hair and flicking over his nipples and appreciating his biceps, trailing down his entire arm to watch his hair rise up until he lazily entertwines their hands.

It doesn’t take long for their lips to get involved again and Harry’s not even sure which one of them starts with it first. Him mouthing wet little kisses along James’ cheek and chin, nibbling up to his ear or James slipping his tongue along Harry’s collarbones, having the younger man rut up against him within a few seconds.

He quickly finds himself on his back, the older man wasting no time in getting his half-hard cock back to fullness, maybe even beyond that. Bobbing against his stomach and just waiting to be touched.

But James sneakily – and very much knowingy, with that smirk decorating his lips, - trespasses that area and grabs the backs of his thighs, pushing them upwards towards his chest. Harry instinctively reaches out to hold them.

Suddenly James seems a bit hesitant, not the way he was before though. Like he’s unsure of what to do next. He’s only slept with James once, all that time ago. Yet the memories of that, and trust him, he has plenty of memories, don’t make him recall the other man ever being self-conscious in bed. He wants to ask what’s wrong, but before he can, James already answers.

‘I want to try something.’, he says, at first not quite meeting Harry’s eyes.

‘..Okay.’, he lets out questioningly. Raising his eyebrow at him, feeling like there’s more to it.

James sighs, finally staring straight at him. ‘You have to promise you’ll tell me to stop if you don’t like it though. Okay? Right away. If you’re not into it just…tell me no. Push me away. Whatever.’

Harry snorts. Oh sweet, wonderful James who he’s so completely undeserving of. ‘I can’t imagine you doing anything I’m not gonna like.’

He gets James’ serious face in return for a second. ‘I mean it, Harry. This is about both of us. Not just my pleasure, but yours as well. Alright?’

Harry swallows, feeling the anticipation in the air of whatever James ia about to do. ‘Alright.’, he says. Looking at James and seeing the excitement appear in his eyes again, like a kid in a candy store. ‘I promise.’

He leans back into the cushions, gasping out little breaths here and there when James’ mouth moves down right between the juncture of his thigh and cock, going down lower until he licks over his balls, making Harry shiver with delight.

He leaves a few pressed in kisses there but then he keeps going lower and lower..until he’s breathing hotly right onto his sphincter.

Harry bites into his lips as he waits for what will happen next, both desire and a bit of embarrassment mixing together.

And then James licks a fat stripe over his hole, his tongue gloriously wet and gentle against his muscle. He arches off the bed with his back instantly, body thrilled with unknown pleasure.

He’s heard of this before. Has even googled it and definitely watched the occasional video on Pornhub when he was sixteen, even later at eighteen when he was actually sexually active.

But then he kept telling himself it was only a thing for that – pornos. Felt too weird to ever even bring it up with Ste who already wasn’t a big fan of going down on him anyway. How could he ever ask him to…eat him out? ‘hey, do you fancy sticking your tongue in my ass’ would never leave his lips.

His life with Ste feels miles away though and Harry realizes it continues to have less to do with James and whoever else he might be sleeping with for money – and more to do with himself. Can’t imagine doing this with Ste, can’t imagine a future with Ste. Can't imagine anything with Ste.

When James repeats the movement, tongue trailing over quivering skin up to his perineum, that’s really all Harry can focus on for the minutre.

He thinks everyone should get to feel this once, this moist teasing unlike he’s anything he ever felt before. James’ hand suddenly reach out to his butt, spreading him apart even more for better access.

Harry makes the mistake of opening his eyes and looking down at him, his face buried between his cheeks…and suddenly being overwhelmed with the depravity of it all.

‘W-Wait!’, he calls out before he can even stop himself. Almost whining when James actually does, stopping instantly to look at him.

‘Do you want me to stop?’

‘’s just that-‘

‘It’s alright. Not everyone likes it.’, James smiles genuinely, if only a bit disappointedly that his fun seems over. Which-

‘This can’t be fun for you.’, Harry blurts out, still feeling the cloak of shame at the subject.

James quirks an eyebrow. ‘Is that what you’re worried about? Me having fun?’ He gently squeezes Harry’s knee.

‘I..yes. I mean this can’t be..sanitary.’, he cringes into himself even as he says it.

‘Harry, love, you’ve had both my dick and my tongue in your mouth already. This really isn’t any different.’

‘But..we used a condom and…I don’t know this is just..’

‘Different?’, James suggests helpfully, despite what he just said himself, like he understands what Harry means with his babbling. It makes him calm down entirely.

‘Yeah.’, he breathes out.

‘I guess ideally we’d use a tongue condom but..I didn’t really plan for this to happen tonight, if I’m honest with you.’

Harry laughs, pressing his knee into James’ touch more. ‘Yeah, me neither.’

‘Look, if you don’t want to do this because you don’t like it, because it’s not doing anything for you on a pleasure level…we don’t have to. There are a million other things we can try instead. But..if you’re only hesitant because you think I’m not enjoying myself..then let me tell you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.’ James’ eyes turn dark again as he travels down his calf with his mouth, leaving indents of his teeth in random places. Harry knows he’ll feel it tomorrow, tries not to think too much of pressing his fingers into those places when he’s lonely again.

‘There’s nothing more beautiful or erotic than getting to taste you down there.’ Harry’s head goes back down onto the pillows when he hears that. James leaves a wet kiss on the cleft of his arse before moving to the middle again, not touching yet. ‘And trust me..I’ve got the prettiest view right here.’

Harry whines highly in the back of his throat, spreading his own knees wider unabashedly.


‘Please what?’ His breath is tickling him right over his hole again and Harry feels his cock twitch, spurting out a bit of precum.

‘Please..please..lick me out.’, it sounds like he’s begging and oh, he thinks, how quickly the god can become the disciple.

James laughs against his skin – justifiably smug – and does just that. A broad movement over his most private part. Tongue gliding over and around his sphincter, Harry’s thighs shaking, and then his tongue finally dips inside, just slightly, making him see stars.

He feels the entire area of his surrounding skin get wet after a while, James’ jaw digging into his cheeks in the most amazing way possible, and his wet muscle contiuing to work him open lika a dream. Pushing and stretching and massaging.

James occasionally lets out his own moans and Harry feels like he’s feast being had. The vibrations of the sounds making his inner muscles quiver. He imagines what it feels like against James’ tongue, tries to imagine a taste of musk and his freshly showered skin from earlier, a hint of vanilla and pear.

All the sensual combinations feel tantalizingly close to worship.

He hasn’t even touched his own dick again, laying against his stomach and dripping. It turns out to be unnecessary anyway, because James hooks his thumbs left and right next to his hole, making space for his face to disappear even deeper into his cleft and then letting his magical tongue glide in deeper than ever beforre.

Harry comes with a shout, untouched.

His breathing ragged, chest rising, decorated in his own come. He looks down at James, who leaves a last kiss right over his hole, before meeting his gaze. There’s spit all over his chin and Harry can feel it drying already against his thighs. Ironically, it’s the cleanest he’s felt in forever.


The entire flat smells a bit like strawberries and peaches. A batch of them used for the two store-bought pie crusts and another sitting on the kitchen counter waiting to be eaten ripe and fresh. Somehow the fruity smells clings to the air all the way into James’ bedroom.

James’ lips taste like his usual vanilla lip balm, Harry’s skin like coconut and pineapple sun screen. It’s a combination of flavours that in all honesty shouldn’t really work but somehow does. If you ask Harry, it’s all rather delicious.

Their skin is sticky and they both feel giddy and free once they get out of their clothes. September has just started but there is no sign of the heat wave stopping any time soon.

Cold bedsheets underneath them, Harry wiggling until he’s completely comfortable and James laughing against his mouth.

It’s become so easy for them, these moments. Stealing away from Ste for god knows how many hours per day without his fiancé getting suspicious. Him and James laying together afterwards, only listening to the occasional bike going by outside the window or talking about absolutely everything and anything and feeling like they could never run out things to discuss.

James’ bruises have healed. His skin slightly tan from the sun and his beard getting a slight tinge of ginger from it all. He looks gorgeous. Harry has seconds where he stares at him and thinks ‘mine’. He knows it’s not fair. To have that thought. To do any of this, really.

But then James’ eyes will glitter in the afternoon hours and Harry can’t bring himself to deny either of them much anymore.

In those moments, Harry is all James’. He doesn’t think about Ste. There’s enough time to guilt trip himself over it afterwards. But most importantly, in these moments, Harry is all Harry. He hasn’t felt this much like himself in absolutely forever.

He loves the confidence and agency it gives him. And James eats it all up in wonder, like he’ll never get enough of him, ever.

Harry hopes James knows that he is part of why he’s being able to be like this. This happy and energetic after months of never ending misery and complacency. That James helped keep this spark alive inside of him. Reigniting it over and over when everyone else had long left. One day, he’ll find the words and actually thank him for it.

Today, he does it by blowing him and reaching down to play with his balls, heavy resting on his fingertips.

He’s gotten good at this, figuring out just how James likes it. A bit sloppy, a bit fast and then slowing down again. Almost bringing him to a climax to let his dick pop from his mouth. He might get a curse out of him for it first, but the way the man’s entire body basically trembles as he does it tells both of them everything they need to know. Harry going back to his job after a few moments, humming pleasedly and with a grin around his girth.

James comes with a groan, birds chirping outside in the shade of the trees.

Harry wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and moves up to kiss him, the older man unflinchingly pulling him closer by the back of his head. Tasting both of them.

Laying down beside him and catching his breath, Harry smells the peaches again. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees James pull of the condom and tossing it in the trash before standing up.

‘I’m gonna get us some water, yeah? You want anything else?’

‘Mhh. Thanks. No, I’m good.’

Both of them chug down ice cold glasses, resting against eachother until the body heat alone makes them feel too hot again and they almost feel glued together.

Moving apart a few inches, they turn on the tv. Some random cooking show Harry doesn’t recognize because it’s not Gordon Ramsay.

A water drop falls down on Harry’s chest from where he’s holding the almost empty glass still in one hand. It makes him jump, the liquid cool against his skin. He watches it trail down a path to his nipple, just beside it, and then down lower and lower to his ribs.

He bites his lips, a slight shiver coming over him. He shifts his legs, noticing he’s getting hard again. Following the wet path with his finger, he makes goosebumps reappear on his own skin, caressing his sun kissed stomach.

Harry puts down the glass and looks over at James – having the other man already staring back at him. He looks down to his crotch, his pink cock already filling up again as well.

‘Yeah?’, he asks.

‘Yeah.’, James answers, cupping his jaw to make their mouths meet in a clash.

Their movements get a bit more wild this time around, tv still running as background noise, and Harry pushes James down with a flat palm to his chest and promptly straddles his thighs.

‘I wanna ride you.’, he says. It feels good to finally say it out loud, he’s been thinking about this for a while. Definitely longer than James has been out of prison.

James’ mouth drops open, his hands instinctively finding his way to his hips.

‘Is that alright?’, Harry asks, grinding down a bit. He doesn’t think any convincing is necessary but…might as well while he’s at it.

‘As if I’d ever say no to that.’; James quips. They haven’t done this before, but something makes Harry thinks James might have been thinking about this just as much as him. Eyes blown wide, the older man reaches for the lube and condoms on the bedside table.

Once James has stretched him open sufficiently and slicked himself up over the latex, Harry takes his dick in his hand and with the other spreads one of his cheeks. Feeling a bit unbalanced, but James’ hands steadying him.

He gasps when the head first enters him, his inner muscles and sphincter parting for heated flesh. It feels as perfect as it always does just..more somehow. Deeper inside of him. He loves it already.

‘You good?’ James questions after he’s sunk down a few more inches. ‘Just, take all the time you need, yeah?’

Harry nods a ‘yes’ and lowers himself to the hilt. Both of their mouths falling open at the sensation.

He starts a slow rhythm, James’ fingers guiding him. And then he loses himself in the moment, the feeling of power again, of setting the pace and teasing the older man by almost pulling off completely before dropping all the way down again. Using the muscles in his calfs and his butt to drive him to climax.

His eyes are closed, sweat settling on his forehead and it’s so fucking good, this drag of James’ full dick inside of him when-

‘Ouch.’ There’s a wooden sound, like something getting knocked together and Harry stops moving his hips immediately, hands stilling where they’re on James’ chest hair.

Opening his eyes, he sees James reach out to touch the side of his head with a wince, mouth in a slight frown.

‘What happened?’, Harry asks worriedly, wondering if he’s done anything to hurt him somehow.

James looks at him, one eye shut, and then laughs. Harry’s not quite sure what’s going on, still sitting on his dick, which hasn’t softened. ‘I’m sorry darling. You were..going quite at it and I managed to knock my head on the headboard. I’m fine, really.’ His voice is still shaking with laughter as he says it and Harry breaks out into a giggle as well.

He can feel himself flush though, lowering his chin. He just rode his boyfriend so hard that he almost gave him a concussion. What a story.

‘Hey,’, James says – a finger lifting his face again and making their eyes meet. ‘None of that. I was very much enjoying every second of the ride. As I’m sure you can tell..’ He grinds his hips upwards into Harry, cock brushing directly against his prostate.

‘Then hold on tight and get ready for round two’, he gasps out into the sticky air between their lips. Strawberry. Peach. Vanilla. Coconut. This is when he knows exactly he’ll never be able to think of these flavours the same way again after this summer is over.


Snow and rain is splattering against the window, the sound having a calming feel to it. It makes everything look just a bit grey and blue. The perfect day to loung all day in bed.

Harry had made some sandwiches with brie for breakfast, bringing in some coffee as well and they had eaten and talked between bites. James occasionally checking his phone for work emails, pleased little smile appearing when notihng that couldn’t wait until tomorrow popped up.

Ever since then they’ve been procrastinating, they catch Cruel Intentions on the tv and then Harry sees the game Clue stacked away on one of James’ crowded shelves while the other man makes lunch, pulling out the box and grinning as he sets it up.

James coming back in five minutes later with some leftover rice and chicken from yesterday, looking at where Harry is sitting on the floor.

He looks confused for a second there then his lips dimple up into a smile before he goes down on his knees to settle up next to him, passing him the plate.

Look, Harry’s not quite sure how they ended up here twenty minutes later either. But suddenly the board and cards are thrown off somewhere to the side and both their shirts are off, sweatpants hanging low and loose on their hips.

A bit reluctantly, they drag themselves up to the bed. Harry knows he’ll regret it if his neck stays pressed up against that wooden floor for too long. He's had experience with the living room after all, already.

Harry lands against the pillows with a thud, James pulling off his pants and boxers.

‘We should finish the round later..I was winning.’, Harry breathes out between kisses. James’ beard scratching against his mouth and chin.

‘Sure, you can totally tell yourself that. Either way, I think it might be a tie right now..’ Harry loves his voice when it goes like this, dark and raspy against his ear.

‘I think the rules aren’t fair right now. I’m at a disadvantage. You still have your pants on.’

James quickly tugs them off, landing somwhere behind him on the floor.

‘Better now? Even playing field.’

‘Mh. You’re nothing if not fair.’

‘Corrupted lawyer, remember?’, Harry shuts him up by slipping his tongue past his lips, letting it glide back.

A few glorious moments later, James is finally pressing inside of him. Harry wraps his legs around him, pulling him closer. Always, always wanting him just that bit closer.

Harry lets himself feel everything, every drag in and out of his hole, the smooth warm glide, heavy balls hitting his cheeks with each thrust. The wet sound of lube on their skin, their breaths hitting together, James panting against his neck.

He’ll never get enough of this, couldn’t possibly imagine living without this from now on.

He keeps moaning loudly when James hits that spot inside of him, colors like fireworks behind his eyelids.

With a crowded flat, doing it like this isn’t always easy.

But right now, Romeo is off somewhere with Lily and Cindy has taken Hilton to his swimming lessons. And Marnie has gone out to treat herself to a shopping trip, which means she’ll be gone for hours yer.

So they both lose themselves in the moment, gasping and groaning and hissing in their most primal ways.

Harry is getting close, James’ hips going slightly sloppy but quicker and quicker and it’s all bulding in the pit of his stomach when-

‘You two do know that the whole neighbourhoud can probably hear you like this, right?’, Marnie’s voice comes through the door. Shit.

James’ thrusts stop, a bit reluctantly. But Harry keeps his legs wrapped around him.

‘Come on.’ Another voice adds – laughingly. Romeo. ‘Let them have their fun. Grab you bag and let’s get some coffee.’ He is a saint, that boy.

Harry clenches down aound James, James being caught off guard and letting out a low moan. Body reacting and hips jutting forward again. He looks down at Harry, quirking an eyebrow at him. Harry raises his in return, repeating the motion. This time, James manages to press his lips together before the sound escapes him completely, clenching his eyes like he’s trying to focus. But then Harry wraps his ankles and feet around his butt, pulling their groins even more together. James slidiing into him impossibly deep. The older man looks down at him, mouth dropping open in a gasp.

He shakes his head fondly, grins appearing on both their faces, and then James starts picking up speed again. Both of them moaning at the slick feeling.

Manie mumbles something in her breath he can’t hear and then Romeo calls out ‘You’ve got an hour!’ before the door closes behind them.

Harry doesn’t really care. He has all the time in the world with James.