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Learning Curve

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“It’s supposed to hurt.”

Seb has heard that before. Only a few weeks ago, he’d been just getting ready, and the girl in question had pulled a face and gone tense. He’d stopped, because he isn’t a fucking bastard, and the girl had waved him on and said, no, it’s supposed to hurt, keep going.

He was her first and she was only his third, but he knew enough already to recognize bullshit when he saw it. So fuck that, he’d said, and gone down on her for what at the time seemed like hours – not that he minded. And once they finally did get to fucking, the girl hadn’t felt anything beyond a bit of discomfort at the start.

So things like it’s supposed to hurt… But this is different, isn’t it? He isn’t a woman. So he grits his teeth.

Although there’s something else prying on his mind as well.

“Condom?” Seb asks, while the other boy continues to probe his arse.

“No. They check the bins, you know they do. There’d be hell to pay.”

“We could – ow, careful – we could find some way to get rid of it, yeah?”

“Don’t want to risk it. Relax, it’s not like I can get you pregnant, is it? There, that should do it.”

Already? Seb thinks, but he keeps quiet because he’s the novice here.

The boy pushes against Seb’s shoulder and he goes down on all fours, the tiles hard against his kneecaps. Something cold and slick rubs against his arsehole – lube, right, of course – and then he can feel the head of the boy’s cock push against him.

He breathes in deeply, spreads his thighs, and tries to relax. “I think I’m – ”

Bastard doesn’t even let him finish his sentence before he starts pushing in. Seb bites the inside of his cheek, because it fucking hurts. He can’t keep in his groan.

“Shut up,” the other boy hisses, trying to work in even deeper.

Seb leans down, bites down on his forearm, and squeezes his eyes shut. The boy starts pumping his hips, quick and irregular. It doesn’t do anything for Seb except hurt, and make him feel slightly like he needs to go to the bathroom. It’s fucking horrible.

After what feels like fucking hours but is probably just a few minutes, the boy shudders and stops moving, and there’s a strange, wet feeling. Seb opens his mouth again – there are teethmarks in his forearm, he’s bitten down that deeply – and reaches behind, pushing at the boy. “Off,” he snaps.

The boy pulls out, another thing that feels awkward and uncomfortable. He steps away and turns on the shower, while Seb gets up, wincing.

“God,” the boy says. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Seb stares at him, balefully, at the boy’s blissful self-satisfied expression. All he can feel is the spunk trickling down his thigh, his arse burning and his thighs hurting, his cock hanging down limp and neglected, and something cruel and vindictive rears its head. “’Cause I thought you were shit.

The boy’s shocked and appalled expression almost makes it worth it.




“Name?” the guy of the night asks between kisses.

“Sebastian.” He laughs and pulls his shirt off. “Why, do you feel sleazy otherwise?”

The guy grins. “I just like to know what I have to yell when the moment comes. I’m Gareth.”

“Right.” Seb shimmies out of his jeans and pants, then gives Gareth an appreciative look. He’s fit, tall, attractive – even though he’s a bit more effeminate than Seb usually goes for. Mid twenties, only a few years older than him, with an easy smile and a teasing light in his eyes that bodes good things to come.

“Come ‘ere.” Gareth grabs his shoulder and pulls him into a kiss. His hands go wandering, sliding over Seb’s back before going down and giving his arse an appreciative squeeze.

And lingering there.

Seb winces. He pulls back and says, “I don’t do anal,” hoping that the guy won’t make a drama of it, for once.

“Giving or taking?” Gareth asks, still petting Seb’s arse.


“Oh.” Gareth drops his hands and takes a step back. “I thought you…”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Seb says, a tad aggressively. It isn’t the first time people assume he’ll be ready and willing to bottom, just because he’s the younger of the two.

“Er… Look, don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t want to pressure you… But why not?”

Seb blinks. “Because I don’t enjoy it?”

“Because it hurts?” Gareth suggests.

“What are you saying?”

“Just…” Gareth rubs the back of his neck, a bit sheepishly. “It’s something that you can easily fuck up, if you go too quick or too hard or something. But if you do it right…”

“So you’re saying that I just haven’t been fucked properly?” Seb drawls.

Gareth goes a bit pink. “Well, maybe?”

“And you’re going to show me how it’s done, then?”

“If you want. We can do something else as well, I’m fine with whatever you want.”

It's... tempting to take Gareth up on the offer, to stick with what he knows. On the other hand, he hates the idea of avoiding a challenge out of cowardice. So what, if it hurt like hell last time? Maybe the guy's right, maybe that had just been a bad performance. Or maybe it wasn't, maybe Seb would hate it the second time even more than the first, but then, well, at least then he knows, right?

“Nah, it’s good.” Seb says, hiding his discomfort behind a grin. “You’ve made me all curious now.”

“Great.” Gareth returns his smile.

Sebastian sits down on the bed, legs spread and smile filthy, looking up at Gareth from beneath his lashes. This bit, at least, he knows how to do. “Well?”

Gareth gets his jeans and pants off, quickly enough to make him stagger and almost fall. Then he straddles Sebastian, hands on his neck, kissing eagerly. He pushes against Sebastian’s shoulder, and Sebastian takes the hint and falls back, Gareth’s full weight on top of him. Lucky the guy is kinda svelte.

Gareth runs his hand down Seb’s chest and stomach, then firmly fists his cock. Seb moans his appreciation, then puts his hands on Gareth’s slim waist and strokes his thumbs over the underside of his ribs. Gareth shivers in response, so Seb does it again. He sits up to suck at the side of Gareth’s neck, and Gareth shifts so he can lean down between Seb’s spread thighs, cocks rubbing together. Seb groans.

“Enough foreplay?” Gareth asks, squeezing Seb's cock again.

Seb nips at his throat. “That impatient to get to my arse?”

“I’ve been nursing a semi since you stepped into that bloody bar, love. I’m dying here.”

“Fine.” Seb pressed one last wet kiss against Gareth’s throat, then pushes him off. He moves to turn over - his stomach flips in wary anticipation - but then Gareth stops him.

“No, on your back," he says.

“Really?” Seb rolls over again, leaning on his elbows. “I thought that was a porn thing. You know, looks good, not actually that feasible.”

“It’s absolutely feasible, if you’re a bit flexible.”

Sebastian gives him a dubious look. “Exactly how flexible are we talking here?”

“If you can bend your legs, you’re good. This isn’t a – a suck-yourself-off kind of porn thing.”

“Well, we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” He opens his legs, feeling slightly self-conscious. Although it’s nice, being able to see what’s going on, what he’s doing. That had bothered him last time, even more than the pain of it: the not seeing, being used without anything he could do to help.

Gareth touches him, just beneath his balls. Seb winces and prepares for the pain, but it doesn’t come. Gareth’s fingers stay out, lightly rubbing the skin between his balls and his arsehole but not pushing inside yet. It’s – odd, nice, a bit ticklish.

“No lube?” Seb asks, one eyebrow up.

“In a sec.” Gareth gives him a look from beneath his lashes, and then he leans down and puts his mouth on Seb’s cock.

Seb curses and grabs Gareth’s curls, thrusting his hips up into the warm wetness of Gareth’s mouth. It only takes a few hard sucks before he’s hard, and then Gareth pulls off again.

Seb glares at him. “Tease.”

“Slo-ow, Sebastian. We’re going slow.”

“What happened to I’m dying?”

“I’m right where I want to be, now,” Gareth says, grinning. He reaches to the head of the bed to pull a pillow closer.

Seb falls back, thighs spread wide, and Gareth shoves the pillow underneath Seb’s hips. It just makes him feel more - presented, exposed, and he has to fight down a blush. Not that Gareth seems to notice Seb's embarrassment - either that or he chooses to ignore it. He just goes back to Seb's arse, still not even edging inside, just slowly massaging in small circles, and it’s – it’s doing something.

Seb opens his thighs a little wider, wriggles. “Now you’re just doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” he asks, accusing.

“Maybe.” Gareth gives him another one of those wicked smiles. “Okay, fine, hand us the lube. Top drawer.”

Seb pushes up onto one elbow and opens the drawer. A packet of condoms, a bottle of lube, latex gloves, a cockring, even a pair of handcuffs. “Like your toys, do you?” he asks, with a quick glance at Gareth.

“They’re fun, once every while. Hand us a glove as well while you’re there.”

Seb takes the bottle and a glove and hands them over. “Don’t want to get your hands dirty? Literally or metaphorically?”

“Literally. I intend to keep touching you once I’m inside of you.” Gareth turns the bottle upside down and coats his, gloved fingers with the thick gloopy liquid.

“Isn’t that a bit too much?” Seb asks, as the lube drips onto the sheets.

“No such thing as too much lube. Really.” He spreads Seb’s thighs open and his slick fingers return to Seb’s arse. One fingertip edges teasingly inside, just to the first knuckle. “Okay?”

“Yeah, perfectly.” He drops back down on the pillows and looks down at Gareth's head, bent over him in apparent concentration. “So you intend to keep touching me, eh?”

“Yeah, unless you’ve objections.” Gareth looks up from Sebastian’s arse. “Are you always this chatty during sex?”

Only when I’m nervous, Sebastian thinks. He shakes his head. “Want me to just shut up and take it?”

“Nah. I actually like hearing a bit of feedback. Speaking of, still doing fine?”

“Yeah.” He peeks down to find Gareth’s got two fingers already inside, without him even noticing. Not that he can just ignore what Gareth's doing, because it's making him feel - something.

Gareth’s fingers curl up, rubbing. Seb falls back again and makes a quiet sound. He hadn’t expected for this to actually feel good.

“Starting to see the fun of this?” Gareth asks, his eyes twinkling.

“I might be coming around to your point of v-view. Fuck, was that…?”

“Your prostate, yeah. Good, isn’t it?”

Sebastian closes his eyes. “Don’t - don't get too smug about it.”

“Just glad to be, er, widening your horizons.” He does it again, and Seb’s hips jerk, almost completely out of his control. He grabs hold of a pillow and breathes out, slowly. 

“Okay, this is definitely different than last time I did this,” he says, half-laughing.

“Too little lube, too little time, would be my guess.” Gareth bends his fingers, pushing deeper. Sebastian bites his lip. “You can’t rush this – well, you can, if you’ve got, er, experience, but…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian says, rolling his eyes, “I’m practically a virgin, rub it in, will you?”

“That’s not what I –”

“Yeah, I know.” He leans his head back. Gareth’s fingers are still working him, and it’s hard to keep track of what he’s doing exactly, apart from things that make Seb’s toes curl. “How – how many fingers is that?”

“Three. This is four.” And the pressure increases, but it doesn’t hurt one fucking bit.

Sebastian grabs hold of the pillow, tensing around Gareth’s fingers, but fuck, even that feels good. “Christ, are you going to end up fisting me?” he gasps.

“Nah, that’s a bit too ambitious. Still good?”

“Yeah.” Seb nods, breathing hard. “So, four fingers?”

“Three will generally do the trick.” Gareth gives him an amused look. “Are you taking notes, love?”

“Maybe.” He grins, then groans as Gareth’s fingers push hard inside again, essentially fucking him.  “God, that’s – ”

“Regretting your decision not to bottom before, are you?”

“Just – just shut up and fuck me, will you?”

“My pleasure, love. Sure you’re ready?”

He nods. It’s getting hard to keep his thoughts in line, to form sentences.

Gareth pulls his fingers out, discards the glove, and gets a condom from the top drawer. Seb watches him put it on through half-lidded eyes. His own cock is still very much hard, hasn’t wilted a bit, even though it hasn’t been touched since that first baby-blowjob.

Okay, so maybe the first time had just been a spectacularly bad one-off.

Gareth pushes Sebastian’s legs open, wide, and his cock nudges Seb’s hole, and that’s bringing back the memories. He tenses up, automatically, then has to make an effort to relax again. Gareth’s hand on his knee helps, and his wide smile, and the fuckloads of lube covering his arse and soaking into the sheets, that’s new and different as well.

“Yeah?” Gareth asks.


He starts pushing in. Sebastian groans and grabs hold of the pillow again. It’s not comparable to fingers in any way, and it’s almost – it’s like he wasn’t ready after all, like Gareth won’t fucking fit. “I don’t – ”

“Easy,” Gareth says quickly, squeezing his knee. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“It – doesn’t, yet, but…”

“Yeah, I know. I’m going slow, alright? And if you want to stop…”

“No.” He shakes his head, out of bloody stubborn pride. “No, keep going.”


Gareth slowly slides deeper. Sebastian bites his lip, riding the edge between just a slight burn and actual pain.

And then it stops. Sebastian opens his eyes again. “I didn’t say – ”

“Sorry, love, no more cock to fill you further,” Gareth says with a filthy grin.

“Oh.” Sebastian tries a little wriggle, and feels Gareth’s balls against him. “Right, that’s… easier than I expected, actually.”

“Yeah.” Gareth leans forward. He pulls out a bit, then slowly thrusts back in. “Still alright?”

Yes, for Christ’s sake, just keep – keep moving.”

He does, and Sebastian’s cock, wilted sadly to half-mast, slowly rises against. Gareth shifts so he’s only leaning on one elbow, and fists Seb’s cock with the other. Seb bites his lip in response.

“Good?” Gareth asks, accompanying each shallow thrust with a tug of his fist.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Sebastian grabs hold of Gareth’s shoulder and pulls him down for a kiss. Gareth flails, almost losing balance, before he shifts again. He kisses deep, wet, and Seb tugs at his bottom lip, thrusts his tongue inside.

“God, you’re – you’re so fucking hot,” Gareth gasps. His thrusts pick up in speed, occasionally brushing against Seb’s prostate. Seb barely needs Gareth’s irregular strokes on his cock, the fucking alone is almost enough to get him to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re – ” Gareth gasps, and then he seizes up. The throes of orgasm – no one looks dignified when they’re coming, and Gareth, face red and twisted up into a frankly ridiculous expression, isn’t the exception.

He falls down onto Seb’s chest, panting. “That was…” He presses a quick kiss just below Seb’s nipple. “Brilliant.” He pushes up to look at Seb. “You haven’t yet…?”

“No, but I’m really fucking close, so if you could just – ”

Gareth reaches down and wraps his fingers around Seb’s cock. He’s being too gentle, though, too slow, so Seb grabs Gareth’s fist and squeezes. He gets the message and goes harder, rougher, quicker, and – taken by surprise by the suddenness of it – Seb comes. He digs his nails deep into Gareth’s shoulder and throws his head back, wetness hitting his stomach.

And then he’s done. Gareth wipes his hand on the sheets, then pulls out again. Seb winces at the feeling, clenching down on emptiness. Still no pain, though. A bit sore, but that’s to be expected, right? And no annoying trickle of spunk either, thank fuck for condoms.

“Well,” Gareth says.

“Well,” Sebastian says.

“Did I convert you, then?”

And Seb laughs and pulls him down into another kiss.




Pubic hair is tickling his nose. It’s a bit awkward, but he still by far prefers unshaven women. There’s something disturbing about going down on a completely smooth cunt, and that’s not even taking the inevitable bit of stubble into consideration.

He dips down and edges his tongue inside, next to his fingers curling up inside of her. She arches up, tries to push into his mouth. “God,” she moans, and her hand comes down to grab his hair. A sharp yank pulls him a bit higher. “So, so fucking close.”

He very very gently runs his teeth over her clit, then sucks it into his mouth, and she arches up again, trashing against the sheets. She’s clenching down on his fingers, sobbing a bit, and then she grabs his hair and pulls him off.

He pulls his hand back and puts it carefully on her cunt, watches as she slowly comes down. He always feels like he has to up his game with women, compared to men. There's no tell-tale ejaculation, for one thing, making it just that bit harder to be sure if the woman in question has come already - although he's pretty sure this one wasn't a faked one. The force of her clenching around his fingers felt like it could've broken a bone.

She blinks, then reaches for him. He goes up and she kisses him, in that typical sloppy-happy-grateful way some people have after sex.

He pulls away and lies down next to her, smiling. There’s something incredibly sexy about seeing a woman get disheveled like this: her proper chignon all loose with tendrils everywhere, her lipstick bitten off, her face flushed and sweaty.

“God,” she says, laughing. “I did not expect that.”

“Which bit?”

“All of it?” She smiles at him. “Guys as attractive as you usually are a bit shit in bed. They feel like they don’t have to make an effort, you know.”

He snorts. “Giving the rest of us a bad name.”

“Exactly.” She pulls him back in for a kiss, then rolls over so she’s leaning on his chest. He strokes her hair, plays with a few stray curls. She trails her lips over his collarbone and nips, gently, getting his attention. “You know what I really want to do to you right now?” she says, her voice heavy with promise and excitement.

“Tell me.”

“I want to fuck you.”

He raises his head to look at her. Her expression is excited, but there’s something apprehensive about it as well. As if she expects him to run off in an insulted huff, or laugh at her, or get angry.

“And when you say fuck…” Seb says slowly.

“I have a strap-on,” she says hurriedly, and then she groans and drops her forehead onto his chest. “Ugh, sorry. We can do something else, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m up for it.”

She raises her head again. “Really?” she asks, full of disbelief.

“Yeah." Seb smiles. "It’s, er, hardly my first time. Well, it is with a strap-on, but…”

“Oh, you’ve - you’re bi?”

He shrugs. “Suppose so. Where is it?”

“Bottom drawer. You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely.” He rolls onto his side and leans off the bed, finding the right drawer. Inside is a bottle of lube – he throws that onto the bed for later – and a dark purple dildo, attached to several leather straps. He takes it and holds it up, curiously.

It’s not that big, slim, slightly-below-average length. The straps are interesting, though. “Looks complicated.”

“You can give me a hand, then,” she says. She still looks a bit insecure, but there's something else as well - pure sexual excitement, and that's arguably the most attractive look he's ever seen on any of his partners.

She sits up onto her knees and takes the harness. The straps go around her thighs, and another one around her waist, the rings sitting flat against her skin. He helps her adjusts them at first, then leans onto his elbow and watches her from below.

She’s a pretty feminine kind of woman, hourglass figure and heavy breasts, and the contrast with the purple dildo jutting forward from her pelvis is – well, surprisingly hot, actually.

On impulse he pushes up, grabs her arse and pulls her close so he can suck on the dildo. She gasps, then groans. “Fuck, I shouldn’t – shouldn’t be able to feel that, should I?”

He pulls back, letting the dildo plop wetly from between his lips. “No idea. Still worrying if I’m okay with this?”

“No.” She smiles at him, dimples appearing in her round cheeks. “On your knees, soldier.”

“Yes ma’am.” He rolls over and gets up on his knees, one hand holding onto the headboard. Her warm fingers spread him open, pushing inside, slick with lube. He drops his head forwards and arches his back, relaxing into it.

She twists her wrist, slowly fingerfucking him. He looks over his shoulder at her. “Enjoying this?”

“Definitely.” She curls her fingers down - searching for his prostate? She definitely seems to know what she's doing, which seems at odds with her previous insecurity.

“Where did you pick this up, then?” he asks.

“A boyfriend got curious. He wasn’t that into it as he’d hoped, though.”

“But you were.”

She grins, cheekily. “Oh, yeah.” 

He turns back, head down. Her fingers push hard against a sensitive spot and he groans.

God, that’s hot,” she says softly. He looks over his shoulder again. The expression on her face is almost reverent.

“Done this a lot?” he asks, curiously.

“Just a few times. And none of them were as fond of it as you appear to be.”

“Makes sense. The f- fuck, the first time it’s always a bit awkward and painful. You n- need to have done this a few times before you – before you really…” He trails off.

“Ready for me now?” she purrs.

“Bloody gasping, love.”

She pulls her fingers back and the dildo slides in, smoothly. She rocks her hips a few times, getting into it. Seb moves along with her, getting used to the feeling - it's different from a flesh-and-blood cock, harder, less flexible. Not bad, though.

“Can you – can you sit up?” she asks, sounding a bit breathless.

He pushes off the bedframe. The change of position makes the dildo angle differently, and suddenly every thrust is that bit more intense. That, combined with her small fingers dug into his hip and the occasional brush of her breast against his back, her thighs against his…

“Can you come from this?” she asks hotly.

He pushes back into her thrusting hips. “About – about as easily as women can.”

“So mostly no.” And she reaches around, her soft hand closing around his cock. Caught between those two points of friction, her slick hand and the relentlessly pumping dildo, it doesn’t take long before his grip on the bedframe has gone white-knuckled.

“What – what about you?” he gasps.

She laughs, delightedly. Her hand lets go of his hip and slides up, scratching over his stomach and chest. “Such a gentleman. Don’t worry about me, love, I’m having the time of my life.”

She scratches her nail over a nipple, and her sharp teeth dig into the flesh of his shoulder and her fingers squeeze hard and he comes, still clinging to the bedframe. He reaches blindly behind him and grabs hold of her hip, fingers digging in hard. She keeps working him until he's spent. 

He pants. She’s stopped moving, but the dildo is still inside.

“Sorry about your sheets,” he says, breathlessly. He looks over his shoulder and grins at her.

She returns the smile. “Love, trust me, there is no fucking need to apologise.”




The kid is blonde, young, insecure and a bit shy, and in almost every way the total opposite of Jim Moriarty.

Or, in other words, exactly what Sebastian needs right now.

He’s old enough to have a flat of his own, thank fuck, even though it’s tiny and messy and the bed’s a single. It's bringing back memories of Sebastian's time at Oxford, his rooms, the thin walls that didn't stop any noise - not that he cared.

The kid’s blushing. Sebastian sits down on the bed and sprawls. “So,” he says, smirking, “what do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?” the kid asks, blush deepening.

Sebastian leers at him. “I asked first.”

“I’m up for anything.”

“Or, you have a preference but are afraid I’m going to say no.”

And even darker goes the blush. Christ, another few seconds and he’s going to turn purple. “I just – I’m not very – experienced…”

Sebastian grins again. “Well, I am. So take advantage and ask whatever you want.”

He stares, blue eyes wide and innocent. “Are you – are you serious?”




“Then I… I’d like – I think I…”

“Spit it out, lad.”


He doesn’t quite turn purple, but it’s close enough.

“Yeah?” Sebastian says, upping the leer. “That what you were thinking about, while you were perving at me in the bar? I wonder how he looks with my cock inside his arse?

“I’m – I’m sorry.”

“Fuck sorry. C’mere.” He grabs the kid’s thigh and pulls him onto his lap. “Done this before, then?”

“N- no.”

Sebastian nips at the stubbly skin beneath the boy’s jaw, thinking hard. When’s the last time he was someone’s first, for anything? There’s a certain amount of patience involved, explanation, reassurance, that’s usually too much bother for him and that he generally tries to avoid.

But he can hardly kick the lad out of bed now, can he?

“Fine.” He nips at the boy’s neck again, then scoots backwards, taking his shirt off. “Get undressed, I’m not having you trip over your jeans at a crucial moment.”

“Right.” The kid starts stripping. Sebastian kicks his shoes off and pulls a condom from his pocket.

“You have lube around here?” he asks, because even he isn’t quite presumptuous enough to go around with a tube of KY in his back pocket.

“Yeah, hold on.” The kid nearly does trip over his jeans, tangled around his ankles. He hops up, still blushing, and kicks them off before disappearing to his small bathroom.

Sebastian finishes undressing and lies down on the narrow bed, hands behind his head. Showing the lad how it’s done. Christ, he’s probably fulfilling a fair amount of fantasies right here.

A cough. He raises his head and grins at the boy, who’s hesitating at the door of the bathroom, a tube in his hand.

“Well? Waiting for an invitation?”

“Sorry.” He ducks his head and comes over, sits down at the edge of his bed. “I know – I mean, I’ve watched porn, so I – ”

“Please forget anything you’ve seen in porn,” Sebastian says quickly. “Real people don’t work that way. Give me that.”

He takes the lube from the kid, squeezes out some onto his fingers, then reaches down to his hole. The kid stares, mouth open, utterly captivated.

“Enjoying the show, are we?” Sebastian says, as he works in a finger with practiced ease.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” the kids manages.

Sebastian resists the urge to roll his eyes. No matter how uninspired the dirty talk, it wouldn’t be kind, and damaging the kid’s fragile ego would probably just end up with him getting kicked out.

He adds another finger, shoulder straining with the awkward position. He peeks up at the kid – still staring, practically drooling at this point. “Wanna give me a hand?” Sebastian asks, grinning.

“Hm? Oh, I, erm, don’t…”

This time Sebastian does roll his eyes. He pulls back and grabs the kid’s hand. The kid makes as if to pull away, then stops, staring down at the slick mess on their linked fingers.

“Well?” Sebastian says, amused. “My arse isn’t going to lubricate itself, you know.”

“Right, er, sorry, how…?”

Sebastian shifts his hips up and pulls the kid’s hand down, right to his arsehole.

He’s still blushing, the tips of his ears fiery red. Well, no matter: in Sebastian’s experience, embarrassment doesn’t weigh up to lust, once a certain stage has been reached. “Push in,” Sebastian says, trying to sound authoritative.

“Are you – I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me. In.”

He does, biting his lip. It makes him look quite adorable – maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“You’re tight,” the kid says, in wonder.

“Yeah, well. It’s been a while.” He raises his hips, pushing down onto the kid’s fingers. “Which reminds me: when, if you do this with someone else…”


“Just, take your time and use plenty of lube,” Sebastian says, trying not to feel like he’s giving a lecture. “Me, I’m quite used to it, but if you’re going with someone who’s new to all this, it can hurt like fuck if you’re doing it wrong. And same goes for you: fucking demand time, if you need it.”

The kid nods, fascinated, and prods a second finger against Sebastian’s arsehole without needing encouragement – atta boy.

Sebastian lifts his hips a bit higher. “Now try to curl up, feel along the upper – thing, wall, whatever. And – yeah, that’s it.” He lets his head fall back. The kid might be a novice but he’s careful as well as eager, which is an excellent combination in this situation.

“How do I know when I…” the kid asks.

Sebastian looks up again. He’s lost the blush, and the look in his eyes is intent, hungry. So much for embarrassment. “Depends on how big you are,” he says, grinning. “But three, or four if you want to play it really safe.”

“Yeah, okay.” He tries another finger, a bit too soon, and Sebastian winces. “Sorry,” the kid says quickly – at least he picked it up, there’s hope for this one yet.

He keeps working his fingers, curling and twisting, before adding another one. Sebastian’s heart rate is speeding up, and it’s getting increasingly hard – hah – to take the kids inexperience into consideration, not just throw him onto his back and ride him into oblivion.

“That’ll do,” he manages.

The kid pulls out and awkwardly wipes his fingers on a tissue lying on the bedside table. He shifts unto his knees, grabs Sebastian’s hip –

“Condom,” Sebastian snaps.

“Oh, yeah, right, sorry.” He takes the condom and rips it the packaging open. He’s nice and hard already – still from the quick grope Sebastian gave him earlier? Or just from the preparation work, his little educational talk?

Never mind. Sebastian rolls over onto his knees, arse up, shoulders down. Not the most artistic of positions, but an easy one if nothing else.

The kid starts pushing in. “Oh, this is – is…”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. First-timers, honestly. Like they’re seeing god.

The kid slowly pulls out, in again, trying to find a rhythm. Sebastian lets him thrust for a bit, before reaching back and groping for the kid’s hand. “Don’t be a selfish arsehole,” he says.

“Right, right…” The kid’s hand closes around Sebastian’s cock. He’s clumsy enough that Sebastian doesn’t have to worry about going off too soon, but it’s still an extra edge.

The kid’s pace picks up, becomes erratic, his breathing quick and stuttering against Seb’s back. Seb wraps his fingers around the kid’s hand, adjusting his grip and speed. He’s rocking along with the kid’s thrusts – it’s too quick, too unpracticed to be really good, but still enough to get him there, as long as his cock gets attention.

He comes just before the kid does, in a demonstration of excellent timing. He leans his head down and curses, semen all over the kid’s pillow and sheets, while behind him the kid rams his hips hard into Seb’s back, then shudders to a stop.

He collapses all over Sebastian’s back, hot little breaths wet against Sebastian’s skin. “Wow,” the kid breathes, then laughs.

“Yeah. Now get out, will you?”

The kid pulls out and drops flat on his back onto the narrow bed. Sebastian flops down next to him, trying to ignore the wet patch beneath him.

“The sheets will need a wash,” Sebastian says.

“Bugger the sheets,” the kid says, sill sounding blissful. Sebastian gives him a vaguely-affectionate look. He almost misses feeling like that, all new and shiny and drunk with the possibilities of future sex.

The heavy-breathing peace is broken by Sebastian’s ringtone. He elbows the kid in the side, who takes the hint and leans over the edge of the bed to get Sebastian’s phone. He hands it over – leaving semen-and-lube stains on the shiny plastic - then falls back down, limbs sprawled, as if this simple act completely exhausted him.

Sebastian rolls his eyes at the dramatics of youth and checks his screen. Moriarty, of course.

He takes the call. “Yeah?”

“Moran,” Moriarty’s voice comes down the line, sharp and demanding as ever. “Dislodge yourself from whatever twinky arse you’re plundering tonight and get to Soho, asap.”

“Will do.” He runs his hand over his eyes, trying to get rid of the post-coital haze. “Do I need to bring anything?"

"No, I've got a gun here," Moriarty says impatiently. "Now hurry up, will you? I'm not in the mood for waiting."

"Yessir." He sits up, then looks down at the sex-flushed boy next to him. "By the way, er, in the spirit of accuracy…”

“What?” Moriarty snaps.

Sebastian catches the kid’s eye and winks. “It was my twinky arse that got plundered tonight.”

Moriarty disconnects without another word, but the kid’s delighted laughter more than makes up for that.




They barrel through the doorway to the bedroom and Sebastian only just manages to keep them both upright. When Jim is in the mood for sex, Sebastian has learned, he stops caring about anything at all beyond getting Sebastian naked and panting at the soonest possible opportunity.

At least this time they make it to the bed before Jim tears his clothes off. Sebastian tries to keep up, fiddling with buttons and zippers and pulling at fabric until they’re finally both naked, Jim half on top of him, hands roaming fucking everywere.

Sebastian takes the back of Jim’s neck and yanks him into a kiss. Jim bites at Sebastian’s lip, hard enough to suddenly mix the coppery taste of blood in with their kisses. His hand goes down over Sebastian’s back to his arse, where he grabs a handful and squeezes. Sebastian moans loudly.

Jim pauses. Sebastian opens his eyes. “What?”


“No, seriously, what? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Jim rolls off, leaning up on one elbow so he can trace his hand over Sebastian’s chest. “It’s… I didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic a bottom.”

“What, ‘cause I’m big and strong, I have to be a top?” he asks, surprised. “Stereotyping? I’d have expected better from you.”

Jim leans over Seb to get a bottle of lube from the bedside table, then starts slicking his fingers. “Not insulted in your masculinity by another man fucking you, then?” he asks, palm stroking Sebastian's hip.

Seb laughs. “My masculinity doesn’t depend on whether or not I have a cock up my arse, thank you very much.”

“Well, good.” Jim’s hand slides over his arse, fingers rubbing teasingly along his crack.

“That concerned about my masculinity?”

“Don’t look forward to you whining every time I want to fuck you.” The teasing slide continues. Sebastian grins.

“The only whine you’re going to hear from me is one of gratitude.”

“Or desperation.”

“Or that,” Sebastian accedes with a little nod. “So you really buy that shit?”

“I don’t,” Jim says easily. “But I know well enough most people do.”

He abruptly pushes two fingers hard inside and Sebastian gasps, fingers digging into Jim’s bicep. “Jesus, some warning?”

“I don’t want you to get bored.”

“I’m not, Christ, with you I never am.”

He keeps his fingers inside, making small, almost unnoticeable movements. It’s the sort of thing that’s guaranteed to drive Sebastian insane – which Jim knows, naturally.

“You’ve fucked enough people for this to have become routine by now, haven’t you?” he asks. There’s something in his voice, something mean, cutting, but Sebastian can’t make sense of Jim at the best of times, let alone when he's half-incoherent with sex.

“It’s – it’s always different, don’t give me that.” Jim adds another finger and Sebastian curses. “And – and anyway, you’re – this doesn’t come close to anything, anyone, and you fucking know that.”

Jim grins, wide and devilish. “I like hearing you say it, though.” He pulls his fingers back and sits up, spreading Sebastian’s thighs.

“You’re special,” Sebastian croons, while Jim grabs the back of Sebastian’s knees and pushes. “You’re unique, you’re one of a kind, you make me feel like a vi-shit - "  He breaks off as Jim pushes in hard, in one thrust that leaves Sebastian grasping for the pillows.

“You were saying?” Jim says sweetly.

“N- nothing.”

He rocks his hips. “Sure? I believe the next line is touched for the very first time.”

“It’s – it comes close, actually.”

Jim grins and presses harder against the back of Sebastian’s thighs, forcing his legs even further down. He’s practically bent double now, jackknifed, but Jim still isn’t moving his hips beyond some very faint, teasing rocking.

“See?” Jim says. “Helpless.”

“Maybe, but that’s got fuck-all to do with – with bottom or top.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian gets his foot back on the mattress and he levers them up and around. Jim lets him, smiling, amused. Sebastian straddles Jim’s hips and takes his cock back inside. “See?” he says, one hand leaning on Jim’s chest. “And now I’m on top, in control. It’s all just – bullshit.”

“Relative.” Jim puts his hands on Sebastian’s thighs, smiling. “I can still do this, though,” and he grabs hold of Sebastian’s cock.

“Point – point taken.” He leans forward, eyes half-closed, fighting a shiver at Jim’s teasing fingers. “But I can…” He squeezes down on Jim’s cock and Jim bites his lip. “See? Both ways.”


Jim sits up, pushing Sebastian back. He obediently shuffles backwards, Jim’s cock once again slipping free. It’s getting bloody frustrating.

“It’s all just in people’s heads,” Sebastian says impatiently. “Now can you please –

“Ah, there’s the whine.”

“Fuck you.”

Jim grins. “I intend to. Turn over.”

Sebastian goes on all fours, wriggling his arse in a hopefully tempting manner. Jim swats him in retaliation. “Down.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

Jim pushes down hard between Sebastian’s shoulderblades, so he ends up flat on his stomach, his hard-on awkwardly trapped beneath him. “Both, then?”

“Got it in one.” Jim’s hand spreads him open. Sebastian tries to relax, give him easier access.

“This would go better if I got up, you know,” he points out, as the head of Jim’s cock nudges him.

“I know.” Jim leans down and whispers hotly in Sebastian’s ear, “I just like you when you’re face-down.”

Sebastian shivers.

Jim straightens back up and pushes in. Sebastian tilts his hips up, arching his back, helping as much as he can.

Jim chuckles above him. “God, you’re eager.”

“Fucking dying for this.”

Jim shifts. He leans one hand on the mattress, his thumb over Sebastian’s little finger, and puts the other hand on the back of Sebastian’s neck, keeping him down.

“Still feeling in control?” Jim asks sweetly. He thrusts, and the movement sends Sebastian rocking forward, his cock rubbing along the sheets, still trapped beneath his stomach. He hisses.

“No, you’re – you’re the – Christ, fuck – ”

Jim sets the pace, as deep and hard as he can in this position. Sebastian can do nothing, even lifting his hips doesn’t give him any measure of control. Being fucked, exactly the right words for it, being taken without any say about it, and normally he would hate this kind of thing but it’s Jim, and that means he’s loving every single fucking second of it.

Once Jim’s finished, he falls down heavily on top of Sebastian’s back. Sebastian can feel his chest move with each rapid breath. It's still a bit of a headrush - he made Jim Moriarty pant, although in this case, he didn't actually have to do that much.

Jim bites idly at the juncture of Sebastian’s shoulder and neck, then sits up a bit, forearms resting on Sebastian’s shoulderblades. Sebastian oofs at the sudden extra weight, the air being forced out of him.

“Feeling needy?” Jim asks, and even though Sebastian can’t see him, he has no trouble imagining the face that goes with that tone.

“Actually,” he says, half-laughing, “I don’t.”

Jim gets off him and Sebastian pushes up onto one elbow, so Jim can look him in the face. He’s frowning. “Sorry?”

Sebastian rolls over fully, so Jim can see the wet spot on the sheets and Sebastian’s spent flaccid cock.

Jim looks for a bit, and then he smiles, slow and filthy. “Well,” he says. “I’m not sure if this says more about me or you.”

“Both, probably.” Sebastian folds his hands behind his head. “Oh, and for the record?”

“Hm?” Jim says, still smiling.

“My masculinity is still fully intact.”




Sebastian opens the door to the hotel room and only just manages to hold in an irritated sigh.

Jim brushes past him. “Don’t approve, then?”

“Personally, this kind of luxury seems like a bleeding waste, but if you prefer it…”

“I do.” Jim flings himself down on the bed, arms spread wide. “Now come here so we can desecrate these pristinely white linens.”

“Gladly.” Sebastian pulls off his shoes and socks, then goes over to the bed. “Got some stress to work off, have you?”

“I hate long flights.” He hooks his foot behind Sebastian’s knee and pulls. Sebastian obediently kneels on the bed, straddling Jim’s legs.

“Glad to be your stress relief,” he says dryly. He crawls up a bit, and Jim yanks him down by the tie to kiss him, quite thoroughly.

Eventually Sebastian has to resurface for air. He falls onto his side, then pulls Jim on top of him, hands at his hips. He can feel the muscles shifting and flexing beneath the expensive thin wool of Jim’s trousers, and that's - it’s still a thrill, that it’s Jim, being here, wanting this, wanting him.

He draws his hand over the slight curve of Jim’s arse. Jim tenses up, almost imperceptibly, before relaxing again. Sebastian pauses.

It’s not the first time he’s done that. The weirdness he has around sex had disappeared pretty quickly once they – well, they got together, by lack of a better term, but this still remains. As if it bothers him.

And that’s something Sebastian can’t just ignore.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks.

Jim grunts his assent, head ducked beneath Sebastian’s jaw.

“Do you enjoy being fucked?”

Jim raises his head and blinks. “What’s brought this on, then?” he asks, eyes skipping over Sebastian’s face in genuine surprise.

“Just – answer the question.”

Jim rolls off him, then sits up. “Being fucked?” he says, one eyebrow up.

“Bottoming, being on the receiving end, whatever you want to call it.”

Jim frowns at him. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“It’s – you look tense, sometimes. Like you’ve got to mentally prepare yourself. Brace yourself.” He hesitates, then adds, “I don’t like the idea of doing something to you you don’t fully enjoy.”

At that, Jim’s frown disappears and he laughs, amused and carefree. “Darling, you’re overestimating yourself. You think I’d let you carry on if I didn’t enjoy it?”

Sebastian folds his hands behind his head, eyes fixed on Jim. “You’re not one hundred percent behind it, though. Not like you are with other things.”

Jim sighs. “You’re not going to let this lie, will you?”

“Not unless you tell me to.”

Jim gives him an exasperated look, then falls down next to him, mirroring his pose. Sebastian waits, extremely aware of the few inches separating them, the heat emanating from Jim, the smell of his aftershave and sweat and hair.

“It’s… difficult,” Jim says after a while.


“Vulnerability. Passivity. Oh, I know” -he waves his hand- “it’s all sexist nonsense, you don’t need to tell me. But…”

“That’s what going through your mind?” Sebastian says, surprised. “You’re worrying about being too passive?”

“No-o, not exactly.” He frowns at the ceiling. “It’s… It feels like a lot of things can go wrong. Like only the smallest mistake can – can derail everything.”

“Okay.” Sebastian runs this thought around his mind, trying to absorb it, understand. “Mistakes – do you mean mine or yours?”

Jim turns his head. “Yours.”

“Ah.” Sebastian gives Jim a look in return. “But the thing is, though, the important thing – ”

“- you always notice when something’s off, yes, I’m aware.” Jim runs a hand over his face. “It isn’t entirely rational. Old hang-ups.”

Sebastian pushes up onto his elbow to look at Jim’s face.

Jim frowns, irritated. “No, you’re not getting any more than that.”

“I didn’t feel like prying anyway.” He lies back down, thinking hard. “So… you don’t really dislike it, it’s just the idea of things going wrong that’s the problem?”

“Put very simply, yes.”

“Right,” Sebastian says slowly. “I think I understand.”

“Do you?” Jim says, chuckling.

“Yeah. I’m not completely stupid, you know.”

“I never said that.”

“Yes you have. Multiple times. Sometimes even shouted – ”

Jim shuts him up with a kiss. Sebastian takes his waist and rolls on top of him, straddling him, then pulls away. “So, do you want this?” he asks Jim.


“Sure? I mean, I’m – ”

“Yes.” And then he adds, in a filthy whisper that goes straight to Sebastian’s cock, “Fuck me.”

Sebastian clears his throat, briefly mesmerised. “Right. Er…” He shakes himself, then goes down to Jim’s throat, biting down hard where his neck meets his shoulder. Jim curses and rises up against him, fingers scratching over Sebastian’s nape.

“Clothes,” Jim hisses. “Get – ”

“Yeah, got it.” Sebastian sits up to tear off Jim’s shirt, then pauses. Slow, an old memory whispers to him.

Well, it’s worth a try.

He carefully undoes the first button on Jim’s shirt. Jim pushes up unto his elbows and looks down at Seb, expression honestly surprised. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Sometimes patience has advantages, you know,” Sebastian says. He pops the second button, then presses a kiss against the skin he just bared.

Jim drops back down. “Fine, but don’t draw it out.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He continues to unbutton Jim’s shirt, interspersing kisses, and once he's done he pushes it carefully down his shoulders. Then it’s socks, delicately pulled off with a teasing touch across the sensitive soles of Jim’s feet – that earns him a curse and an almost-kick in the face. After that, he slowly tugs Jim’s trousers and pants down, palms sliding steadily down Jim’s thighs.

By the time Jim’s naked, he’s fully hard.

Sebastian gets off the bed and strips off, quickly and efficiently. Jim is watching him, eyes half-lidded with lust. He’s being unusually quiet, for once. Not nervous, though: Sebastian knows him well enough by now to recognise his subtle tells, but there aren’t any now. It’s more like he’s just waiting, seeing what’s going to happen next.

He gets back on the bed. “Hips up,” he says, with a little pat on Jim’s thigh.

Jim obediently rises up and lets Sebastian put a pillow underneath. “I feel oddly manhandled,” Jim remarks.

“Yeah, well, I don’t fancy getting a crick in my neck, so you’ll have to live with it.” He crawls up and kisses Jim hard. Jim tries to grab his neck but he dodges and moves down, tracing his teeth over Jim’s jugular – a sigh, subtle tensing of muscles – kisses down his throat to his nipples – a hiss and a scratch across Sebastian’s back – then down to his stomach, the tight skin next to his sharp hipbones, which makes Jim kick his feet against the mattress and curls his fingers into the sheets. Sebastian puts his hands on the inside of Jim’s thighs and presses them open.

And that’s where Jim goes tense.

Sebastian raises his head. “Trouble?”

“Sorry?” Jim says, sounding surprised – three times in less than half an hour, Christ, he must be feeling out of sorts.

“Something wrong?”

A moment of silence, and then he says, “No”.

The muscles underneath Sebastian’s hands are still hard and tense, though.

He shrugs and goes down again, pressing a trail of soft kisses against Jim’s thighs. He sighs, muscles trembling slightly. Sebastian slides his hands up, cupping Jim’s hip, holding him, and continues lavishing kisses and gentle touches on his thighs, stomach, sides. The tension slowly seems to seep away.

Sebastian glances up at Jim’s face – eyes closed, mouth open, blissed-out – then dips his head deeper.

Jim jerks and curses.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says, raising his head again. “Is rimming a hard limit? ‘Cause you probably should have mentioned that earlier.”

Jim pushes Sebastian’s head forcefully down. Sebastian grins and continues what he’s started.

He takes his time, licking wide and gentle until Jim’s thighs are trembling beneath Sebastian’s palms. It’s awkward as fuck in this position, and he can feel his neck screaming out protests, but when he finally works the tip of his tongue inside Jim fucking keens, and that’s –

Well, that’s worth a hell of a lot of pain.

Sebastian comes back up for air, running his tongue over his teeth. Jim is watching him, eyes dark, cheeks flushed.

“Still okay?” Sebastian asks.

All the warning he has is a subtle darkening of Jim’s expression, and then he grabs Sebastian’s shoulder and throws him on his back and kisses him with a kind of aggressive intensity that makes it feel more like an attempt to tear his throat out than an expression of affection. 

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Sebastian gasps when he finally manages to drag Jim off.

“Yes,” Jim growls.

“Great.” Sebastian flips them around, snags one last deep kiss, then jumps off the bed. He finds the bottle of lube, packed in the top compartment of his bag – he’s learned to keep lube easily accessible, Jim can get impatient – and rushes back to the bed.

Jim pulls him down again, hooking one leg around Sebastian’s waist. He pushes up with a grunt and Sebastian lets him roll them around again, so he’s on his back and Jim is once again straddling him.

Sebastian pops the cap on the bottle and coats his fingers. Jim shifts up a bit, putting him within reach. Cooperating, helping in a way he hasn’t really done before – that’s a good sign, isn’t it?

Sebastian reaches between Jim’s legs, his thumb briefly brushing Jim’s still-hard cock before settling down lower. Jim promptly goes tense again.

“Problem?” Sebastian asks lightly.

“Hold on.” Jim leans his hands on Sebastian’s chest, eyes closed. Sebastian waits it out, patiently. Look, he wants to say, no need to worry. I notice. I listen.

But, given that it’s Jim, there’s probably no real need to say that out loud.

Jim opens his eyes again and nods. Sebastian works a finger in, and the resulting look on Jim’s face is more one of relief than discomfort. It’s reassuring to see, after the earlier insecurity. It also happens to be fucking hot: the way he has to look up at Jim, how he’s fucking looming over Sebastian. Which triggers a memory.

“You know that thing you once said?” Sebastian starts.

“Hmm?” Jim says, eyes closed, apparently more concentrated on what Sebastian’s doing than what he’s saying.

“About being on the receiving end, and control and things being relative.”

“Yes. What about it?”

“Just that you seem more, er, comfortable on top.”

Jim’s eyes open again. He focuses slowly on Sebastian. “You think I – ”

“I don’t think, I’m asking,” Sebastian says patiently. He stills his fingers, but Jim frowns.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“Sorry.” He works in a second finger, pushing down against the resisting muscle. Jim shivers – a bad sign? But no, he hasn’t gone tense the way he does when things are wrong.

There’s no answer. Sebastian shelves the thought for another day and concentrates back on what he’s doing, slowly crooking his fingers inside of Jim. He’s starting to move, small rocking motions, the kind that look more subconscious than anything else. Ready, then.

He pulls his fingers back and takes Jim’s hips. Jim shifts down and reaches for Sebastian's cock, guiding him so the head nudges his slick hole. Jim's casual grip alone is enough to make him moan, but then Jim goes down and takes him inside, and, yeah.

Once he’s fully in, Jim tilts his head back, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Adjusting, maybe. Sebastian gives him a bit of time - time he can use himself as well, actually, because the sight of Jim on top of him sort of makes his mind blank out - then gently squeezes his thigh.

Jim leans forward and rocks his hips, making them both gasp. He digs his nails into Sebastian's pectorals and rocks again.

“Do you – do you mind if we change up?” Sebastian asks.

“Why?” Jim rises up, sinks down. Finding his rhythm, and it feels like a shame to break that off, but…

“Curiosity," Sebastian says.


Sebastian throws his arm around Jim’s waist and rolls them over. Jim raises his hips, crosses his ankles behind Sebastian’s back, pulling him back in. All seemingly instinctual, natural, no awkwardness or hesitation about it.

Sebastian pushes back in, then leans down for a kiss. Jim meets him halfway, hooking one hand behind Sebastian’s neck to pull him in.

“We’re good?” Sebastian asks when Jim breaks off for air.

Jim kicks his heel against Sebastian’s back by way of reply, then bites down hard on Sebastian’s bottom lip.

Sebastian grins, then shifts so he’s got enough leverage to really thrust, hard and deep. Jim arches up from the bed, his nails scoring long painful trails down Sebastian’s back. Good, perfect, and still he doesn’t look distracted or tense.

Sebastian frees up his hand and grabs hold of Jim’s cock. There’s just enough precome to make the slide of his fingers easy and smooth, and this, seeing the way Jim reacts to his touch, the pained-sounding moans and the way he throws his head back, bites down on his lip, that’s – that’s something he’ll never get used to.

Jim pulls him back in for another kiss, sloppy and biting and hardly coordinated at all, and then he makes another noise, something that sounds like a groan, louder than before. The signs are all there, the way he tenses up – nowhere near fucking nervous now – and the sudden frantic movement of his hips and his fingers brutally hard on Sebastian’s biceps. Sebastian grins and kisses Jim hard as he comes, swallowing his moans, fucking him hard and fast - until a hard hit to his shoulder stops him.

Jim collapses back on the bed, dazed-looking and flushed, his stomach streaked with come. 

Sebastian hasn’t come yet. It takes only a few seconds before Jim realises, and then he snaps out of his post-coital stupor and rears up. He claws down on Sebastian’s back and kisses him again, sucking on his tongue, urging him on, and then he does something with his hips and Sebastian fucking crashes over the edge. He tears away from Jim’s mouth and buries his head against Jim’s shoulder – thank god for the height difference and his flexible back – and shudders his way through his orgasm, Jim still holding his shoulder.

Once he's finished, he breathes out heavily, then pulls back from Jim. His arms can’t keep his weight up anymore, and he only just remembers to tip to the side instead of collapsing all over Jim – Jim hates being smothered like that, and often demonstrates his dislike by stabbing his fingers against Sebastian’s ulnar nerve or cutting off his air supply.

Sebastian slowly rolls his head. Jim is staring at the ceiling, cheeks still rosy, hair a sweaty mess. It’s a seriously gorgeous look on him.

Jim sighs, deeply. “Well.”


“Yes.” And then, “Ugh.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, no condom.” They had used one all the times Sebastian was on top before, hadn’t they? Maybe Jim has never been fucked without a condom before, maybe the lovely feeling of semen and lube leaking out of him is an entirely new experience. “Need a shower?”

He crinkles his nose in disgust. “Probably, yes, but…” He waves a hand, then drops it heavily down on the bed. Completely shagged-out.

Sebastian grins and closes his eyes. A moment later the mattress shifts and Jim flops around, head coming to rest on Sebastian’s shoulder, one arm flung over his waist.

“This is disgusting,” Jim says, muffled. They’re probably sticking together by now – a shower would be a great idea. But Sebastian still doesn’t have the energy to get up.

"Yeah," he agrees.

Neither of them moves. Sebastian can feel Jim's breathing slow down, grow heavy and regular. It's oddly peaceful.

“So,” he asks eventually. “Was that, er… in comparison to last times…”

“Fine,” Jim mutters. “Better.”

“But not perfect.”

Jim pushes up and frowns at Sebastian. “No. Does it bother you?”

"Me? No, not really, I can - you know, adjust." He smiles. "Although it would be nice."

"The perfect fuck? I can imagine." 

“A bloke can dream." He strokes Jim's neck. "And you know what they say…”

Jim grins and drops back on Sebastian’s chest, then says – reading Sebastian’s mind as always:

“Practice makes perfect.”