I still cannot fathom it’s real. That the person lying beside me is real. Had someone told me a year ago, hell, two months ago, that this would be my life, I would have laughed and told them they were crazy. I would have told them that I’m a straight man, that I love women (and my God I do), that I don't fancy men like that. Like this.
But here I am, watching the most beautiful creature on the planet sound asleep, and butt naked, next to me in my king-size bed.
It’s not the first morning waking up like this but it still feels new, like the first time every time. New, exciting, and terrifying all at once and I’m not even sure what it all means. What it makes me, who I am now or what will happen in the future. For some reason, it doesn’t matter and I don’t really care, not yet, because I haven’t felt this happy or alive or content since… well, since that day.
So no, I don’t care what this is because all I know is I can breathe again, I feel something again. That empty hollow space in my chest where my heart used to be is slowly filling up, coming to life, beating again.
He looks utterly peaceful but I can’t help but move a little closer and gently touch his cheek with my fingertips. He’s usually clean shaved but in the last 24 hours he hasn't exactly had time for more than a quick shower in between… in between activities… so a soft scruff shadows his gorgeous features, both delicate and masculine at the same time. For some reason, the feel of it against my skin sends a jolt through me, making my stomach clench and my cock twitch.
I almost laugh to myself. Didn’t I just have him a few hours ago? One could think I would be able to control myself but it seems my body has other ideas. Feeling him stir against me, him snuggling closer in his sleep until his back is flush to my front is all it takes. I harden helplessly against his arse and wrap my arm around him, pulling him tight against me, my hand pressed against his chest.
I can feel him chuckle, a quiet rumble against my chest.
“Well, good morning sir.”
John's voice is drowsy with sleep but I can hear him smiling as he puts his hand over mine, caressing it slowly with his fingers.
“Morning to ye, sleepyhead,” I respond and nuzzle my face into his neck.
He sighs and moves his head so I can reach his mouth. His scruff against my own, the softness of his lips, his tongue eagerly meeting mine has my heart racing replacing the sleepy desire I felt a moment ago by urgency.
“Fucking hell man,” I growl into his mouth. “What the hell are ye doin’ tae me…”
He only moans in response and drags my hand down between his legs.
“I was gonna say the same thing,” he says breathlessly and deepens the kiss further as my hand wraps around his erection, the skin taut and smooth against my palm.
Involuntarily, I roll my hips against him, pushing in between his cheeks, and he’s pushing back, reaching behind to grab at my arse, to keep me in place. As if there's a chance in hell I would move away from him.
The truth is, I never seem to be able to come close enough, deep enough, get enough of him. Each time we’re together, it’s like I reach a new high. As if learning him, what he likes, what turns him on, what he feels like, is a never-ending adventure and I only want to explore more of it.
“God, I want ye,” I murmur into his hair. “Tell me what ye want John, tell me how tae make it good…” I keep stroking him, feeling moisture gather at the tip and I know it wouldn’t take long, but I don’t want it to end quite so fast.
“I want you to fuck me,” he whispers, his voice a bit rough but it does things to me, hearing him say things like that, having him beg for it.
“Ye sure?” I’m teasing, of course I am, but I want to hear him say it again so I let go of his cock and grab hold of his hip and turn him on his back. I move in between his legs, hovering above him, holding myself up on my elbows. My face is inches from his, my lips a hair's breadth from his mouth, our cocks brushing against each other, neither of us able to keep still.
He’s breathing heavily underneath me, his chest heaving while his hands wander across my chest and up around my back.
“You want me to beg for it don’t you?” He smirks, but I know he’s as turned on by this little game as I am. If nothing else, I can feel him practically throbbing against my belly and he can’t help but wrap his legs around my waist and pull me down closer until our torsos are flush together.
I nod and wait, refusing to make another move until I get what I want.
He looks me square in the eyes then and says:
“Jamie Fraser, you absolute fucking king of men, would you be so kind as to fuck me into oblivion. Please?”
I can’t decide whether to laugh or be insanely turned on by this absolutely ridiculous human being pinned underneath me but what the hell, I decide both will do. Chuckling, I kiss him and as the kiss deepens, I feel something else stir in me as well. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time - joy.
Pure unbridled joy fills my entire heart and body, and I have to close my eyes dead shut when tears threaten to spill over.
To laugh in someone's bed… Christ, I never thought such a thing would ever be possible again. But here I am, in the arms of this man who seems to really care about me, that perhaps even loves me, and I feel like I don’t ever want to let him go.
Some time later, quite some time later, I’m making pancakes in the kitchen while John is flung up on the countertop in nothing but boxers watching me, coffee mug in hand.
I can feel his eyes traveling over my naked back and further down, and I smirk to myself.
“Like what ye see there, laddie?" I can’t help but say while flipping another pancake over in the pan.
I know he’s blushing without turning around to see his face, although his voice is cocky and flirty.
“It’s kinda hard not to, having a Greek god making me pancakes in nothing but his sweats. I’ll have you know, they’re listed on my tinder profile as my most favoured piece of clothing for my men to wear all hours of the day, and night… more specifically grey worn-out ones”
I laugh out loud and turn around.
“Is that so? Yer men, is it?”
“Aye,” he mocks and cocks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, I’m sorry, you thought this was serious?”
His eyes positively sparkle with mischief and I know he’s joking, but I can still feel my stomach drop. We haven’t defined anything and we haven’t really talked about what this is between us. But I am fairly sure it isn't usual, how I feel when I touch him or when he looks at me. The magic that happens when we’re in bed together. It’s terrifyingly similar to what I felt once before in my life, and it scares the living hell out of me because that time, I lost it. I lost everything, and it has taken me years to even imagine having a fraction of something similar to that with anyone. Let alone someone like John.
I do know he’s playing with me now. I do know he feels what I’m feeling. There's no other explanation for what happened about an hour ago in my bed. That wasn’t just fucking or pure lust or carnal desire. Not only that, in any case. I made love to him, and he made love to me, as simple and incredibly complicated as that. His eyes were locked on mine the entire time, forcing me to look at him, keeping me anchored to him and him alone, keeping all ghosts at bay.
Not that I could have looked away if I wanted to.
When we came together, it was as if I finally let him in, truly and honestly in, and I had no choice but to let it happen. I no longer had the option of hiding, running away, or denying what I felt.
There with him, in the golden morning light, he knew me, all of me, and the things he saw were all true and real. The same way he showed me his truth without hesitation.
Taking a deep breath, swallowing the nerves fluttering around in my belly, I move closer and place a hand on either side of his hips. Taking another step forward, I place myself between his naked thighs.
“Actually,” I say, leaning my forehead against his, watching him intently, “I do think this is serious. As serious as it comes, tae be perfectly honest.”
I can hear his breath hitch slightly and feel his hands travel slowly up my arms until he wraps them around my neck.
“Is that so?” he replies, meeting my gaze, those glittering pools of blue making me weak in the knees. The look in his eyes is serious now, earnest and warm. Welcoming.
I only nod, and for the millionth time that morning, my heart is beating fast and hard in my chest, waiting for him to say something more.
“I think so too,” he says finally, the joking tone in his voice completely gone. He takes my face between his hands and presses his lips against mine.
Kissing me softly, lovingly, I feel something fall into place inside. A calmness spreading through my entire being. I let it happen, stop fighting it all together and I let myself fall, fearless and happy.
Nothing, absolutely not a thing, could be more perfect or make more sense than this.