Chapter Text
Duty done, thought Lewis as he ended the call to Laura. He winced. Why did he think of attending Laura’s party as a ‘duty’?
“Sir!” He was thankful that James had ‘requisitioned’ a squad car to get them home, even if it risked a reprimand from Innocent. They’d’ve had to wait ages for a taxi and the night was too bloody cold for standing around.
He cannot be comfortable. Lewis tried to work out exactly how James had folded his long legs into the back of the car. Squad cars were not really designed for men of Hathaway’s height. Lewis much preferred to see James’s legs at their full length, ideally in full stride and from behind where he could also watch his arse. The fact that James nearly always deferred to his seniority and rarely walked ahead was a daily source of frustration to Lewis. If all he was allowed to do was look then he wanted make the most of his opportunities.
James alternately thanked and cursed Professor Stringer’s prowler. He was relieved to be away from the party, however, despite his voiced desire to leave, he would have gladly sat on that cold garden swing with Robbie for several hours. He lay back as well as he could, resting his head against the back of the seat. Perhaps drinking a bottle of champagne on an empty stomach hadn’t been the wisest thing to do but he had been unhappy not to have Robbie to himself. While he’d been relatively in control at the Professor’s house (thank heavens for walls to lean against) the full effect of the alcohol was hitting him now.
Bold, reckless or just drunk, it didn’t matter; in the darkness of the car James studied Robbie openly, maintaining his scrutiny even when Robbie turned to him, returning his gaze. He could always blame it on the booze.
It was still relatively early and James wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. As the car drew up outside Robbie’s building he asked with a grin, “Any chance of a night-cap, sir?”
“Aye, someone better get some water and coffee into you or you won’t be fit tomorrow.”
Though his tone was gruff, James knew it was for the benefit of the PCs who’d brought them home. He’d sensed Robbie also wasn’t quite ready to be alone this evening either.
***
James followed Robbie in and, as though on autopilot, Robbie immediately opened two beers; work was quiet, he could cover for James if the lad didn’t pull up okay in the morning. He put one on the coffee table in front of James, before dropping next to him on the couch, shoulder to shoulder. Anticipating a couple of quiet hours in James’s company, Robbie was stretching forward for the remote when he heard the oddest sound.
Robbie eyes widened with alarm as he realised James had started to giggle. What on earth…?
“That’s what dogs do best.” James snorted
“What?”
Attempting to mimic Stringer, James sniggered, “‘I heard the neighbour’s dog barking’ and you…” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “…you said ‘that’s what dogs do best’.” His last words were almost a shriek as the giggles hit him again and he curled himself up, his whole body shaking with laughter.
Robbie started to wonder exactly how much James had really drunk and whether or not drink was all he’d had – they had been at a party of former medical students, after all. He’s not going to complain though, he likes to see the lad relaxed and laughing; it’s such a rare sight. And he’ll make him stay on the couch tonight, whether he likes it or not, just so he knows he’s safe.
James’s good humour was infectious and Robbie soon found himself relaxing into the couch, laughing along for no good reason other than it felt good.
As James struggled to pull himself back into a sitting position he reached out wildly with his right hand and unexpectedly grasped Robbie’s thigh. Robbie reached across, taking hold of his other arm by the elbow. James popped up faster than expected, and with Robbie also pulling him he ended up sprawled across Robbie’s lap.
He lay there, giggling quietly to himself before wiping his eyes and attempting to push himself up. Robbie, who had dissolved into laughter at the sight of his gangly Sergeant laid out on his lap, was no help at all.
As James rose awkwardly, he twisted to look at Robbie and whooped, “'Rest of the guys in the band' – your face! Thought you were going to groan out loud. God I would have loved to have heard that.” Dropping his face back into the couch he went off in another fit of laughter, though this time he seemed to be slightly calmer.
Robbie trembled at the thought of James making him groan out loud, blood rushing to several places at once. If he get didn’t get James off his lap and regain some control they could both come to regret this evening.
Carefully pulling James back and sitting him in the corner of the couch, Robbie looked for any signs that he might really be under the influence of something other than a bottle of champagne. James looked up at him, biting his bottom lip, eyes wide, tears of mirth glistening on his lashes and cheeks. Robbie’s frank appraisal stilled him and he roughly cleared his throat, rubbed his face and ran his hands over his head, smoothing down his hair as he took several deep breaths.
Robbie turned towards the kitchen, striving to keep his tone light. “Right, lad, s’been a long day and work tomorrow. What d’you say to a cuppa and something to eat, then I’ll get you some blankets?”
“I’ll just finish my beer sir, then I’ll get a taxi, get out of your way.” All the laughing had left a breathiness in James voice that sent a shiver through Robbie.
“Don’t be daft. You’ll sleep here. You can make breakfast in the morning and I’ll drop you at yours on the way.”
“Yes, sir.” James knew better than to argue and started to drain his beer. A car backfired out front, startling him and causing him to spill the most of the liquid over his shirt.
“Shit!” He jumped up off the couch – and started to giggle again. He bit his lip once more to gain control. “Sorry, sir. Got a towel?”
Rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh, Robbie threw a tea-towel at him. “Get your shirt off, dry yourself. I’ll get you one of my jumpers.”
Robbie walked off to the bedroom, listening to James’s movements, relieved that it sounded as though he was regaining his composure. Laughing James was a delightful change, but hysterical James was something he didn’t want to contemplate.
Though it took him only a minute or two, when Robbie returned with a jumper the feeling in the room had changed. James had calmed and sunk down into the couch, his head resting on the back, eyes closed, long legs stretched out in front. He had discarded his shoes, as well as his stained shirt which was now neatly folded on the coffee table. Although the room was warm, James’s nipples were erect and Robbie gazed on his semi-naked Sergeant marvelling, not for the first time, at how beautiful he was. Even in the harsh lighting of his flat, Robbie thought he looked like an angel, so serene was his expression now. Well, they did say laughter was good for the soul.
“If you’re just going to stand there and stare sir, could you turn up the heat a little?”
Oh, I can turn up the heat, thought Robbie, though probably not in the way you intend.
When Robbie didn’t speak, James peered up at him through half-closed eyes only to see Robbie watching him with a longing that was echoed in his own heart.
In for a penny, in for a pound, thought James and he lightly patted the seat next to him. Christ! James gave a start. Robbie’s tongue had flickered quickly across his lower lip, I’m not imagining this, I’m not! He had to force himself to keep his breathing steady. If he was wrong, if he’d mis-read...
Robbie, who had been holding his breath, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly and deeply. Whatever James was offering, he would claim.
With unusual grace Robbie sat slowly next to James, one leg folded under, shin pressed against thigh, his body turned towards James. Robbie placed his hand on James’s thigh, watching his face for any sign, any clue. This could go wonderfully right, or horribly, brutally wrong. He watched the steady rise and fall of James’s chest. Slowly he slid his hand up the muscular thigh and across his hip, bringing it to rest on James’s belly just below his navel. He felt the small tremor under his fingers. James kept his eyes closed, said nothing, remained still.
Robbie swallowed hard, forcing down the fluttering in his chest, steadying his breathing. The only other sound in the flat was the tick of the central heating, loud in the fullness of the silence surrounding them.
Almost fearfully, Robbie’s hand began a careful ascent over James’s belly, towards to his chest. Robbie watched, enthralled as the gooseflesh rose on James’s arms and chest and the muscle tremors under his palm increased. As Robbie’s hand moved over his heart, James covered his hand with his own and lifted his eyes to meet Robbie’s. The older man’s breath caught in his throat as he saw in their depths complete trust – and surrender.
In one fluid movement James sat up straight and turned his body to mirror Robbie’s; he still held Robbie’s hand to his chest. Keeping his eyes fixed on James’s adoring gaze, Robbie used his other hand to trace a line up the other side of James’s body, lightly brushing his nipple, skimming his collarbone and up the side of his neck, fingers tracing jaw and ear, coming to rest against his neck, his thumb continuing to brush his jaw. James moved Robbie’s hand from his heart, gently pushing it down, over his belly, over his belt, pressing Robbie’s palm on to his hardness. Only now did Robbie briefly look away, looking down, to see what he had caused – and at James’s hands now lying quietly in his lap.
He was deeply aroused by James’s submission. Slipping one hand behind James’s neck, Robbie drew the lad to him, raising his head to take those full, soft lips with his own, while his other began to rhythmically stroke James’s erection through the rough denim. James made soft noises into Robbie’s mouth as the kisses became more insistent, Robbie’s tongue pressing against his lips, seeking a way in. James yielded, and slid one arm around Robbie, grabbing at his belt, not to draw them closer together but to anchor himself. Robbie was gradually pressing James backwards, causing him to lie back against the couch, as he himself slowly rose up and over James. He grappled with James’s belt, loosening it quickly, turning his attention to opening his jeans. James returned the favour, allowing his hand to slide under jeans and boxers, clasping Robbie’s arse, pulling him downward. James gasped as Robbie’s hand slipped down, brushing James’s now-exposed cock.
“Sir?” There was a plea in his tone.
Robbie looked down at his very aroused, very flushed and panting Sergeant, afraid he had crossed an undrawn line.
James gazed at him with complete adoration and trust. “Bed, sir?”
A small nod. “Bed, James.”
***
With his long limbs wrapped around Robbie, James tucked his chin in to the hollow between Robbie’s neck and shoulder and whispered, “Nothing in the world is single, / All things by a law divine / In one another’s being mingled – / Why not I with thine?”
Lewis smiled thoughtfully, the smile reaching his eyes as rolled them at James. With a soft huff he asked, “A’right, who’s that then?”
“Oh, just one of the guys in the band.”