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Raising Twins: For Your Consideration.

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It's just after lunch in London, and Jonny's cleaning up from the quick pasta he and Gerry had eaten. That's 5 a.m. Los Angeles time. Not that Jonny's paying much attention to the clock. Or the phone. It rings a fifth time before he toggles the headset.


"Congratulations, Jonny."

He recognizes the voice. His agent. "What for?"

"You're not watching the news?"

"No. I'm cleaning house."

There's a decided sigh on the other end of the phone. "Shite, you just got nominated."

"For what?" It takes a minute for Jonny to register. Oscar nominations were today. "We did." He's expecting screenplay. Maybe. But nothing else, not from the Academy.

"Screenplay." There's a pause. "And director."

Jonny can't say anything.

"You hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard."

"Okay. Listen, swing by tomorrow and we'll talk PR schedule."

"Sure." Jonny's still pretty much speechless. He hits the end button and walks out of the kitchen into the living room, stooping down to pick up a couple of the 12-year-olds' stray sneakers, then moves on into the study. Gerry's sitting at the desk in the corner, going through a new script. "Agent just called," he says, casually plopping against the desk's edge. "Oscar nominations went out this morning."

Gerry turns around in the chair. "And...?" After all the years, he's gotten pretty good at telling Jonny's moods, and Jonny looks like he's stunned. But is that good or bad stunned? He trails his fingers up Jonny's knee. "Should I break out the champagne?"

"We got nominated." Jonny's smile widens slightly. "Wanna guess?"

Nominated? "Yes!" Gerry stands up and hugs his boy tight. He'd been hoping, ever since the buzz started getting louder and more excited. "Yes! Jonny!" He kisses Jonny hard. Jonny did it. He did it!

"Ngh, Master's crushing boy." Jonny gasps for a quick breath and kisses Gerry again. "Two nominations," he whispers.

"Two?!" After the Golden Globe and BAFTA nominations, he should have expected, but ... He kisses Jonny hard. Two means both, and his boy is so amazing. So fucking amazing. He's known it for years, and now the world's taking notice.

"Your boy's in shock." Jonny'd expected the screenplay, if anything, but not the other. "Should we call up the web site, see what else is nominated? Or amuse ourselves for a little while that we might actually have a shot?"

"Of course we have a shot." Gerry wraps his arms around Jonny's waist and holds him tight against him. "So proud of you, love."

"Thanks. Couldn't do it without you." Jonny's stopped commenting on the squeezing. He's resigned to be being crushed by his husband. "Let him thank you proper." He glances at the clock. "We've got a few hours till the boys get home."

Gerry realizes a little too late that he's squeezing the hell out of Jonny, but he doesn't stop. He kisses Jonny's cheek. "Yes, yes, yes. I'm going to give you the best blowjob of your life."

"C'mon, Pire, let your boy be on his knees." Jonny turns his head enough to kiss Gerry's lips. "He needs to know he's just Jonny, just yours, nothing special."

"Okay." Gerry brushes his lips against Jonny's. "Whatever you want. Celebration."

"Thank you. Fuck, yes." Jonny steps back, moving his hand until his fingers are twined with Gerry's. "Take you to bed, Master, or the playroom?"

"Mmm. Bed." He'd love to take it to the playroom, but he wants to be more husband than master. He wants to be gentle, even if he's going to be rough.

Jonny tugs Gerry out of the study and up the stairs. "Going to bed in the middle of the day," he murmurs, turning around and nudging Gerry against the wall halfway up. "We're so decadent. Think they'd take back the nominations if they knew we had sex in the daylight?"

"The blinds are closed. They'll never know." Gerry grins. "And who wouldn't have sex?"

"The people who would go to Disney World." Jonny's smirking, just a bit. He's still riding a damned high crest of shock. He backs up, stepping to the next step, turning more playful. "You want sex? Thought the boy was just going to lick your cock, maybe suck a bit. Want more? Tie him up. Ride him till he's begging?"

"We've already been there, slut." Gerry licks his lips slowly. He likes those ideas. He likes them a lot. "Does my boy want to be tied? Is that his congratulations, to feel the strain on his muscles, and to beg master for more?"

"He knows. The boys want to go back, by the way. They've been screaming about it being their reward for good marks this year." Jonny moves up the stairs, skimming off his t-shirt and twisting the fabric around his wrists. "Boy wants Master. He's still in disbelief about the phone call. Needs the reality of pain."

"Boy will have master." Gerry pulls his shirt off and then bends over to get out of his sweatpants. "Boy will have master any way he wants him."

No shoes to worry about so Jonny's focusing on his jeans. They're loosely buttoned, and it's easy to just skim them off over his hips. By the time he's to the bedroom door, he's naked. Kneeling. So many years and he still loves it, gets the rush of headspace in just sinking to the floor. "Get you hard, Master. Then fuck your boy, pin him down."

"I can do that." Would be the easiest thing in the world. "Would my boy like anything else?" His boy's up for an Oscar. Gerry could do anything.

"Boy has everything he could want. Husband. Sons." Jonny laughs. "And now Golden Globe, BAFTA and Oscar nominations. Good thing he got out of acting."

Gerry grins. "Last laugh, Teak." It's always pissed him off that just because Jonny dropped acting to go into other parts of the business, he was a failure. Well, that'd show them. Two Oscar nominations. "And you know I'm your biggest fan."

"In so many ways." Jonny grins, crawls over to Gerry, rubs against his leg, licking along the outer thigh.

"Oh, somehow I doubt that." Gerry rubs Jonny's hair. "I'm sure you've got some fans who're really big..."

Jonny tugs his head, Gerry's fingers sliding through the light brown strands. "Not where it matters." He licks over Gerry's hips. "Big heart. Big hands."

"Mm. Point there." He strokes Jonny's neck. "What does my boy want to do with that mouth of his?"

"Oh, nothing exciting. Just this." Jonny licks up the length of Gerry's cock. "And maybe this." He sucks on the head.

Gerry licks his lips. "That's very nice, slut. But master knows you can do better. Unless my slut doesn't want to get fucked."

"Slut? Haven't called me that in months. Master must be happy." Jonny opens wide and takes in all of Gerry's cock. So many years of practice, it's a snap. He closes his lips, hollows his cheeks and sucks, exaggerating every motion.

"Ver-very happy." How does Jonny keep getting better at this? Should be impossible by now. "Slut. My slut. Master's slut."

Jonny pulls back, off, licks around the tip again. "Master's slut. His whore. His boy." He goes back to sucking. Short pulse sucks, just around the head, then taking him deep. He can't think of a better way to celebrate. Well, maybe taking the boys to dinner later. Not better, but definitely a must-do.

Oh, god. That's fucking fantastic. Fucking fantastic. "Know exactly what I need. Master needs." Gerry groans. "Christ. Jonny, if you want me to fuck you, need to pull back now."

That's all he needs to hear, and Jonny's pulling off. He kneels back, chuckling. "Oh, must have that, Master. Boy on bed. Now."

"Yes. Now." Gerry pats Jonny's head. "Get into whatever position you like, adorable. It's your present."

"Hmmm." Jonny thinks as he crawls to the bed. He pulls himself up at the foot, stretching himself over the bed, reaching hands out to the bed posts, working his feet out as much as is comfortable. "Like this. Boy's happy."

Excellent position. Gerry pats Jonny's arse. "Is my slut prepped?"

"Fuck, yeah." Jonny squirms. He remembered that much this morning, hoping for a good, solid fucking. "Slut learned that lesson long time ago."

"Good boy." Gerry pushes Jonny's legs a little further apart and then gets into position behind him. "My golden boy."

"Yours. That's all that matters." Jonny pushes his chest up on the bed, going up almost on his toes.

"Yes." Gerry kisses Jonny's neck and then thrusts in, and groans. Christ. Jonny always feels so good around him. More than good. Fanfuckingtastic.

No matter how prepped, that first push, the breach, it hurts. Jonny does rock up, forward, then back, settling himself on Gerry's cock. The burn's brilliant. "Oh, fuck, you're so damned good at that. Get fucking better with age."

Gerry shakes his head. "Thanks, slut." The second thrust is hard, and he's going to make Jonny scream. And beg. Because Jonny was fantastic and now the world knows.

That's even better. Brutal thrusts. One after another. "Master, please." Jonny tightens his fingers on the bed rails. "More. Harder."

Your wish is my command. Gerry thrusts harder, so hard it hurts. God, his boy is so great. So fantastic.

Jonny's cock is shoved into the bed's edge, wedged against the soft comforter. Not enough friction to come. Not nearly enough. Each thrust pushes him closer to the edge, though. "Ahhellfuck, PIre. Please. Touch. Want to come."

"Come like this?" He knows his boy can. But he's pampering Jonny. He reaches around and strokes Jonny's cock. "Come for me, slave."

Moan. Shiver. Come. It's pretty much that fast. Definitely in that order. Then there's a whimper and another shiver, Jonny's cock jerking in Gerry's hand, coating it in white. So fuckin' hard and on edge, so much adrenaline. He spreads himself against the bed, opening completely.

What a good boy. Gerry's so close, but he's not finished. Not finished. More. One more thrust, two more thrusts. So fucking good.

Jonny glides on the adrenaline while Gerry finishes. He's content floating in the release, could stay like this for hours, just being used, being fucked back into reality. Two nominations. Shite.