Lotrips FIC: "Sultanas into Dates" 2/2
May. 5th, 2005 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321This is Part 2. Part 1 is here.
They walked, to get the wine out of their system.
It did not get the lust out of Jed's system. He walked crookedly all the way. B.K. next to him waved his arms in ever more fluent gestures, and now and again B.K.'s hands brushed against Jed's thighs, and that was not conducive to sober thought at all. Not at all.
They reached the pavement outside Jed's house.
"All the way to your front door," said B.K.
They reached Jed's front door. There was still a faint odour of orchid in the hall.
"All the way until you have opened door," said B.K.
This took Jed a good three or four minutes. The key seemed to have grown, or the lock shrunk. At any rate, the two did not want to be joined in holy matrimony and baulked at any union. Finally, B.K. took the key out of Jed's hand and unlocked the door himself.
"Won't you come in?" Jed heard himself saying. "For a night cap?"
"Is that part of date?" B.K. asked.
"Oh, yes. That's definitely part of a date," Jed affirmed with sudden cross-cultural conviction. "Absolutely. For sure. Without a doubt."
B.K. was already in Jed's hallway. Jed continued to hover by the door, trying to fit the chain into its cradle.
When he turned round, B.K. was headed straight towards the bedroom.
"No, no," Jed called out. "Wrong door. Lounge room's to the left."
Too late. B.K. was in the bedroom. Jed's heart started doing overtime.
He stumbled to the door. The bedroom was dark. Of course, it was dark. He had switched off the light himself, after dousing himself in Acqua di Giò some two thousand hours earlier.
"B.K.?" Jed said, uncertainly. "Wrong door." His voice faltered, then failed.
Jed stepped into his bedroom.
For some unfathomable reason, he did not grope for the light switch.
For another, equally unfathomable reason, he did not bump into B.K. on the way into the bedroom. Which he should have expected to be doing because if B.K. had entered the bedroom and realised his mistake, he would surely have turned back or stopped in his tracks and still be standing there, on the threshold, in Jed's way, ready to be bumped into?
"B...?" Jed croaked.
A hand landed on Jed's hip. It was quite a warm hand, and it had found quite a firm purchase, and Jed swayed, and the floor swayed, and the drone in his head flipped into overdrive and gushed into Jed's nervous system without heed or warning.
He sank to his knees. Or was he pulled?
"I..." he began, and then was kissed into silence.
Was he surprised? He felt as if he ought to be surprised, but then again, he wasn't surprised at all. Then again, this was the most obvious conclusion to the evening's proceedings, and this is what he might have known all along, and this is possibly what he might and could and did have an inkling of, after all, but who cared and what did it matter, because here he was, on his knees in his bedroom, having the common sense of things kissed out of him.
B.K.'s lips were soft and hard, all at the same time. The softness and hardness together drove the buzzing out of Jed's head and made him feel untethered and impossible. It was heat and chill. It unmasked him. He knelt there, and he wasn't even holding onto B.K.. He wasn't even touching B.K., just trying to sustain the insistence and the surrender of B.K.'s lips. And finally, after several light-years of kissing like chaste bridegrooms, the pull and push of B.K.'s lips gave way to something that was even more unbearable and at the same time, softer and harder and wetter than anything. It gave way to B.K.'s tongue hiding behind and inside B.K.'s lips.
And oh, the sweet inside of B.K.'s mouth.
Along with B.K.'s tongue came B.K.'s need. There were B.K.'s arms around Jed's shoulders, B.K.'s fingers at the back of Jed's neck, B.K.'s body all but pressed against Jed's chest. And then there was a moan. It was B.K.'s moan, and with a rush of fire, the buzzing was back in Jed's brain, and he thrust forward and pushed his erection against B.K.'s hard thighs.
In the dark of the night, things fitted that had never known how to fit before. Jed's limbs found B.K.'s limbs, and his cock found its rightful place against B.K.'s crotch, and the unfamiliarity of it turned Jed on as nothing had done in many a year.
They were still on the ground, on the hardwood floor of Jed's bedroom, pulling at each other's collars and buttons. Cufflinks clinked. Jed himself strained to get the tie off himself but gave up in the end and let himself be stripped of jacket and shirt until his tie was a cotton snake between his bare chest and B.K.'s naked torso. They slipped on their own underwear. Their mouths got separated, and Jed, with his eyes closed, searched for B.K.'s face again and drank in his tongue like one about to drown. They crawled and lurched somehow onto the bed. They kicked at sheets and rolled across each other's bodies. B.K.'s mouth played out a gamut of sensations, and B.K.'s body was hard and hot against Jed's skin, and B.K.'s hard-on was a marvel in Jed's fist. Jed's mind span with the sensation of B.K.'s hard-on; it span even faster than it had before, and the only way to make it stop spinning was to hang onto B.K.'s penis for dear life. Jed's own cock was somewhere, somewhere warm, somewhere that felt good -- oh, yes, inside B.K.'s mouth, how had that happened, how had B.K.'s mouth left Jed's mouth? B.K. was crouched backwards across Jed, B.K.'s hard-on inside Jed's palm, Jed's cock inside B.K., and...
"Wait," gasped Jed. "Hang on. Why don't..."
All of a sudden, he felt shy and stopped.
"What?" whispered B.K. He fell still on Jed's cock, and Jed was struck by how restless B.K. had seemed all night, and how focused he seemed now.
"I don't know how this works," said Jed, blush after blush heating his face in the dark. "Because you're... smaller than I am, and maybe you are smaller inside, too, and perhaps, if you want, you'd better..." He stopped in mortified confusion. He wasn't even sure he'd made any sense because B.K.'s hard-on in his fist was big enough all right, no problem there.
B.K., though, seemed not to notice the stammering. He turned himself around and lay down on Jed's chest, erection against erection. He drew a finger across Jed's upper lip, and then he whispered, in a voice so strange and thick, not like his earlier voice at all, "Yes, mera dil. I think I would like that."
"What did you call me?" murmured Jed. But B.K. was already turning him over, firm hands on hips and buttocks, strong arms, such muscular arms. "Your arms," muttered Jed, and "Oh, that feels good", and "I think I have, somewhere... in the bathroom..."
But it transpired that B.K. had his own accoutrements with him. There was no need for a trip outside the bedroom, not even off the haven of Jed's bed. B.K. had but to bend down and grapple among his clothes, and the magic items appeared as if by a conjuror's trick.
Jed groaned into his pillow.
He could not remember anyone ever being this careful with him, or this intent. B.K.'s hands cupped him, and cupped his buttocks, cupped his balls. B.K.'s tongue did cat dances across Jed's back, and down the insides of his arse cheeks. B.K.'s finger -- or was it his thumb? -- pressed against Jed's anus, a small, hard finger, followed by a large, hard cock, and god it hurt but god, it felt good.
Jed's pelvis moved, without volition, on autopilot. It moved with the rhythm of the stars and the stripes and all the patterns of the globe. B.K. moved inside him, syncopated harmony, in and out. The bed was a barque, and Jed was a sailor adrift, but B.K. -- B.K. was his anchor.
"God," Jed finally said, "god, oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god."
And that was another thing he normally never said. Jed never invoked deities during sex. But with B.K. inside him, a string of 'gods' issued forth unbidden from his throat and from somewhere deeper, somewhere inside his solar plexus, and on the final syllable, Jed came.
He lay, his face pressed into his own pillow, his cock wet against his own sheets, his pelvis moving languidly to aid B.K. in his continued thrusting. When B.K. stiffened and moaned unknown words against Jed's spine, Jed shuddered.
And so they lay. B.K. pulled out and crawled up; he breathed against the side of Jed's neck. Jed had his eyes closed. His pulse was still racing, his heart was still pumping, his thoughts were afloat in a baffled soup.
"B.K.," he said finally, simply to be saying something.
"Mera dil," said B.K.
"What did you call me?"
"Nothing. I will tell you later."
"No, tell me now," murmured Jed. "And tell me how to say your name properly. Your real name."
"Bhoja," whispered B.K. The 'bh' rushed in a breath of warm air against Jed's neck.
"Bhoja," repeated Jed, and made ripples against B.K.'s ear. And then said it again, "Bhoja", and then took a strand of B.K.'s hair into his mouth and twisted his tongue around it, and then said, "Why don't you stay here? Until morning."
"Is that also part of first date?" enquired B.K. He had his hand around the tie, crumpled up on Jed's chest.
Jed laughed. His body shook, and B.K. shook with it.
"Call it part of the Brophy experience," Jed said. "And shit. I bet that skunk Elijah never expected for it to end in this."
B.K. stopped shaking.
"I bet he would scream if he even imagined it," Jed went on, sleepily. "Choke on his sultanas. Weird little kid."
"It was not Elijah", said B.K.
"What?" Jed said, drowsily. He yawned.
"It was not Elijah who set us up," said B.K. "It was me. I set up Elijah."
Jed stopped mid-yawn.
"I told Elijah to get you to come on date with me, but without telling you that it was with me."
"Hang on." Jed rolled over, taking B.K. with him. His eyes had got used to the darkness but still, B.K.'s eyes were only a glitter in the gloom. "Why did you do that?" Jed finally asked.
"Why, why?" echoed B.K., some of his former impatience creeping back into his voice. "Why does anybody ask anybody for date? I may not know about date but I know about... I know about courting."
"Courting?" Jed said dumbly.
"So it was my first date", B.K. continued irritably, "and it was your first date, and it was our first date together. Two first dates. And 'mera dil' means 'my heart'. Because you have been sitting in my heart for weeks now and gnawing away at it. Five weeks, to be exact. But, of course, you never notice this because you tall people never do. Always with your head in clouds and your eyes not on treasure at your feet." He coughed. "Not that... Not that I am treasure or anything."
The sudden embarrassment in B.K.'s voice made Jed feel like a cobra: charmed.
"So it isn't Elijah who's the mad fuckwit?" Jed said quietly.
"No. All me. Mad fuckwit."
"Right. I see."
"Sorry," B.K. said in a disgruntled tone.
"Well. Don't be."
"Will teach me to go chasing after persons unsuitable for my predilections."
"Mad, insane fuckwit," Jed murmured and kissed B.K. into silence. "And, if nothing else..." He left B.K.'s mouth for B.K.'s temple, and then for the whorls of cartilage inside B.K.'s right ear. "If nothing else, I've now learned all about dating and I'm telling you, I could get used to this dating shit, I really could."
"Me, also," mumbled B.K. and squirmed under Jed's tongue. "Also, I made enquiries beforehand, and I did find out that every good first date always ends up in bed."
"Did you?" muttered Jed into B.K.'s aural canal.
"Yes, was possibly principal reason for trying it out. I did not hear this from Elijah, of course. What would he know about date?"
Jed chuckled, and B.K. shook. "Yeah," Jed murmured. "But tell you what, Bhoja, my dear little fuckwit, I'm the one asking for the second date. And I don't mean sultanas. Not at all."
***
The End.
First draft 28 February 2004. Completed 4 May 2005.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to lobelia40@yahoo.com
Back to Part 1.
They walked, to get the wine out of their system.
It did not get the lust out of Jed's system. He walked crookedly all the way. B.K. next to him waved his arms in ever more fluent gestures, and now and again B.K.'s hands brushed against Jed's thighs, and that was not conducive to sober thought at all. Not at all.
They reached the pavement outside Jed's house.
"All the way to your front door," said B.K.
They reached Jed's front door. There was still a faint odour of orchid in the hall.
"All the way until you have opened door," said B.K.
This took Jed a good three or four minutes. The key seemed to have grown, or the lock shrunk. At any rate, the two did not want to be joined in holy matrimony and baulked at any union. Finally, B.K. took the key out of Jed's hand and unlocked the door himself.
"Won't you come in?" Jed heard himself saying. "For a night cap?"
"Is that part of date?" B.K. asked.
"Oh, yes. That's definitely part of a date," Jed affirmed with sudden cross-cultural conviction. "Absolutely. For sure. Without a doubt."
B.K. was already in Jed's hallway. Jed continued to hover by the door, trying to fit the chain into its cradle.
When he turned round, B.K. was headed straight towards the bedroom.
"No, no," Jed called out. "Wrong door. Lounge room's to the left."
Too late. B.K. was in the bedroom. Jed's heart started doing overtime.
He stumbled to the door. The bedroom was dark. Of course, it was dark. He had switched off the light himself, after dousing himself in Acqua di Giò some two thousand hours earlier.
"B.K.?" Jed said, uncertainly. "Wrong door." His voice faltered, then failed.
Jed stepped into his bedroom.
For some unfathomable reason, he did not grope for the light switch.
For another, equally unfathomable reason, he did not bump into B.K. on the way into the bedroom. Which he should have expected to be doing because if B.K. had entered the bedroom and realised his mistake, he would surely have turned back or stopped in his tracks and still be standing there, on the threshold, in Jed's way, ready to be bumped into?
"B...?" Jed croaked.
A hand landed on Jed's hip. It was quite a warm hand, and it had found quite a firm purchase, and Jed swayed, and the floor swayed, and the drone in his head flipped into overdrive and gushed into Jed's nervous system without heed or warning.
He sank to his knees. Or was he pulled?
"I..." he began, and then was kissed into silence.
Was he surprised? He felt as if he ought to be surprised, but then again, he wasn't surprised at all. Then again, this was the most obvious conclusion to the evening's proceedings, and this is what he might have known all along, and this is possibly what he might and could and did have an inkling of, after all, but who cared and what did it matter, because here he was, on his knees in his bedroom, having the common sense of things kissed out of him.
B.K.'s lips were soft and hard, all at the same time. The softness and hardness together drove the buzzing out of Jed's head and made him feel untethered and impossible. It was heat and chill. It unmasked him. He knelt there, and he wasn't even holding onto B.K.. He wasn't even touching B.K., just trying to sustain the insistence and the surrender of B.K.'s lips. And finally, after several light-years of kissing like chaste bridegrooms, the pull and push of B.K.'s lips gave way to something that was even more unbearable and at the same time, softer and harder and wetter than anything. It gave way to B.K.'s tongue hiding behind and inside B.K.'s lips.
And oh, the sweet inside of B.K.'s mouth.
Along with B.K.'s tongue came B.K.'s need. There were B.K.'s arms around Jed's shoulders, B.K.'s fingers at the back of Jed's neck, B.K.'s body all but pressed against Jed's chest. And then there was a moan. It was B.K.'s moan, and with a rush of fire, the buzzing was back in Jed's brain, and he thrust forward and pushed his erection against B.K.'s hard thighs.
In the dark of the night, things fitted that had never known how to fit before. Jed's limbs found B.K.'s limbs, and his cock found its rightful place against B.K.'s crotch, and the unfamiliarity of it turned Jed on as nothing had done in many a year.
They were still on the ground, on the hardwood floor of Jed's bedroom, pulling at each other's collars and buttons. Cufflinks clinked. Jed himself strained to get the tie off himself but gave up in the end and let himself be stripped of jacket and shirt until his tie was a cotton snake between his bare chest and B.K.'s naked torso. They slipped on their own underwear. Their mouths got separated, and Jed, with his eyes closed, searched for B.K.'s face again and drank in his tongue like one about to drown. They crawled and lurched somehow onto the bed. They kicked at sheets and rolled across each other's bodies. B.K.'s mouth played out a gamut of sensations, and B.K.'s body was hard and hot against Jed's skin, and B.K.'s hard-on was a marvel in Jed's fist. Jed's mind span with the sensation of B.K.'s hard-on; it span even faster than it had before, and the only way to make it stop spinning was to hang onto B.K.'s penis for dear life. Jed's own cock was somewhere, somewhere warm, somewhere that felt good -- oh, yes, inside B.K.'s mouth, how had that happened, how had B.K.'s mouth left Jed's mouth? B.K. was crouched backwards across Jed, B.K.'s hard-on inside Jed's palm, Jed's cock inside B.K., and...
"Wait," gasped Jed. "Hang on. Why don't..."
All of a sudden, he felt shy and stopped.
"What?" whispered B.K. He fell still on Jed's cock, and Jed was struck by how restless B.K. had seemed all night, and how focused he seemed now.
"I don't know how this works," said Jed, blush after blush heating his face in the dark. "Because you're... smaller than I am, and maybe you are smaller inside, too, and perhaps, if you want, you'd better..." He stopped in mortified confusion. He wasn't even sure he'd made any sense because B.K.'s hard-on in his fist was big enough all right, no problem there.
B.K., though, seemed not to notice the stammering. He turned himself around and lay down on Jed's chest, erection against erection. He drew a finger across Jed's upper lip, and then he whispered, in a voice so strange and thick, not like his earlier voice at all, "Yes, mera dil. I think I would like that."
"What did you call me?" murmured Jed. But B.K. was already turning him over, firm hands on hips and buttocks, strong arms, such muscular arms. "Your arms," muttered Jed, and "Oh, that feels good", and "I think I have, somewhere... in the bathroom..."
But it transpired that B.K. had his own accoutrements with him. There was no need for a trip outside the bedroom, not even off the haven of Jed's bed. B.K. had but to bend down and grapple among his clothes, and the magic items appeared as if by a conjuror's trick.
Jed groaned into his pillow.
He could not remember anyone ever being this careful with him, or this intent. B.K.'s hands cupped him, and cupped his buttocks, cupped his balls. B.K.'s tongue did cat dances across Jed's back, and down the insides of his arse cheeks. B.K.'s finger -- or was it his thumb? -- pressed against Jed's anus, a small, hard finger, followed by a large, hard cock, and god it hurt but god, it felt good.
Jed's pelvis moved, without volition, on autopilot. It moved with the rhythm of the stars and the stripes and all the patterns of the globe. B.K. moved inside him, syncopated harmony, in and out. The bed was a barque, and Jed was a sailor adrift, but B.K. -- B.K. was his anchor.
"God," Jed finally said, "god, oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god."
And that was another thing he normally never said. Jed never invoked deities during sex. But with B.K. inside him, a string of 'gods' issued forth unbidden from his throat and from somewhere deeper, somewhere inside his solar plexus, and on the final syllable, Jed came.
He lay, his face pressed into his own pillow, his cock wet against his own sheets, his pelvis moving languidly to aid B.K. in his continued thrusting. When B.K. stiffened and moaned unknown words against Jed's spine, Jed shuddered.
And so they lay. B.K. pulled out and crawled up; he breathed against the side of Jed's neck. Jed had his eyes closed. His pulse was still racing, his heart was still pumping, his thoughts were afloat in a baffled soup.
"B.K.," he said finally, simply to be saying something.
"Mera dil," said B.K.
"What did you call me?"
"Nothing. I will tell you later."
"No, tell me now," murmured Jed. "And tell me how to say your name properly. Your real name."
"Bhoja," whispered B.K. The 'bh' rushed in a breath of warm air against Jed's neck.
"Bhoja," repeated Jed, and made ripples against B.K.'s ear. And then said it again, "Bhoja", and then took a strand of B.K.'s hair into his mouth and twisted his tongue around it, and then said, "Why don't you stay here? Until morning."
"Is that also part of first date?" enquired B.K. He had his hand around the tie, crumpled up on Jed's chest.
Jed laughed. His body shook, and B.K. shook with it.
"Call it part of the Brophy experience," Jed said. "And shit. I bet that skunk Elijah never expected for it to end in this."
B.K. stopped shaking.
"I bet he would scream if he even imagined it," Jed went on, sleepily. "Choke on his sultanas. Weird little kid."
"It was not Elijah", said B.K.
"What?" Jed said, drowsily. He yawned.
"It was not Elijah who set us up," said B.K. "It was me. I set up Elijah."
Jed stopped mid-yawn.
"I told Elijah to get you to come on date with me, but without telling you that it was with me."
"Hang on." Jed rolled over, taking B.K. with him. His eyes had got used to the darkness but still, B.K.'s eyes were only a glitter in the gloom. "Why did you do that?" Jed finally asked.
"Why, why?" echoed B.K., some of his former impatience creeping back into his voice. "Why does anybody ask anybody for date? I may not know about date but I know about... I know about courting."
"Courting?" Jed said dumbly.
"So it was my first date", B.K. continued irritably, "and it was your first date, and it was our first date together. Two first dates. And 'mera dil' means 'my heart'. Because you have been sitting in my heart for weeks now and gnawing away at it. Five weeks, to be exact. But, of course, you never notice this because you tall people never do. Always with your head in clouds and your eyes not on treasure at your feet." He coughed. "Not that... Not that I am treasure or anything."
The sudden embarrassment in B.K.'s voice made Jed feel like a cobra: charmed.
"So it isn't Elijah who's the mad fuckwit?" Jed said quietly.
"No. All me. Mad fuckwit."
"Right. I see."
"Sorry," B.K. said in a disgruntled tone.
"Well. Don't be."
"Will teach me to go chasing after persons unsuitable for my predilections."
"Mad, insane fuckwit," Jed murmured and kissed B.K. into silence. "And, if nothing else..." He left B.K.'s mouth for B.K.'s temple, and then for the whorls of cartilage inside B.K.'s right ear. "If nothing else, I've now learned all about dating and I'm telling you, I could get used to this dating shit, I really could."
"Me, also," mumbled B.K. and squirmed under Jed's tongue. "Also, I made enquiries beforehand, and I did find out that every good first date always ends up in bed."
"Did you?" muttered Jed into B.K.'s aural canal.
"Yes, was possibly principal reason for trying it out. I did not hear this from Elijah, of course. What would he know about date?"
Jed chuckled, and B.K. shook. "Yeah," Jed murmured. "But tell you what, Bhoja, my dear little fuckwit, I'm the one asking for the second date. And I don't mean sultanas. Not at all."
***
The End.
First draft 28 February 2004. Completed 4 May 2005.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to lobelia40@yahoo.com
Back to Part 1.