Neverland (Rise of the Guardians, Jack Frost/Jamie Bennett, NC17)
Title: Neverland
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Pairing: Jack Frost/Jamie Bennett
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3314
Summary: Written for the DW kink meme: Jack checks in on Jamie, all grown up and gone to college, and finds that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Jamie's childhood was fun while it lasted. Jack had new responsibilities, of course - he didn't have the tight schedule of the other guardians, but he did have to help winter along and watch out for children on slippery or thin ice - and the work could keep him away for months at a time. Even so, every year he would come back to Jamie, calling him out to play by throwing snowballs at his window.
The other children would come out to play too, though as the years went by they gradually stopped, sometimes to be replaced by younger siblings or new children in the area, sometimes not. Cupcake was one of the last of that first generation to stop, a fourteen-year-old tennis player who threw snowballs with pinpoint accuracy, until she met another fourteen-year -old tennis player and lost interest in Jack's idea of fun.
She was the only one who said goodbye.
Jack didn't get the hint the first time Jamie didn't come outside, or the second, coming up with excuses for the lack of response. Maybe Jamie was ill. Maybe Jamie was tired.
Sophie, now a teenager herself, was the one who broke the news. "He's grown up now," Sophie said, before grabbing Jack's hand and pulling him away from the house and onto the hill where the others were playing.
It was a bright day for winter, and Jack couldn't see the moon. It didn't stop him hating it.
Jack tried not to think about it too much each year when he came back to play with the other kids, but nothing changed how he felt every time he looked up at Jamie's window. Jamie's bedroom was the first place on Earth where he had felt real. Three hundred years of being lonely, of watching the world react to what he did without ever reacting to him, and then when all hope was lost, Jamie had said his name.
He still threw snowballs, just in case, but the only reaction he got was Sophie shaking her head and once, just once, a taller, skinny Jamie leaning out of the window to shout, "Cut it out guys, I'm working!"
It was almost an acknowledgement, and somehow that hurt more than being ignored.
It might have been easier to just give up, if Jack only knew how.
Jack would sneak back to Jamie's window at night sometimes, once all the children who believed had gone to bed, and look to see what had changed. It was still a cluttered room, though the toys were accompanied now by action figures and statues, the children's drawings on the walls replaced by posters. Jamie had grown into an avid reader, and when Jack caught him watching movies, so many of them featured dragons and aliens and monsters. Sometimes Jack watched the movies with him, just so he could pretend he still had Jamie's company.
The day finally came when he arrived at Jamie's window and found the bed empty and stripped back, many of the books gone and the computer absent. Sophie was too old to ask, too old to see him, but the other children knew. They didn't care, but they knew.
Jamie's mother was so proud of her boy, all grown up and gone to college.
* * *
Standing over Jamie in his new room, Jack couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia.
Jack knew Jamie had grown up. He'd watched, year by year, as Jamie grew taller and filled out. Not very tall - taller than Jack by a fair bit, yes, but not so much as to look strange next to his peers - and not very filled out either, because he'd not taken to sports that demanded huge muscles. But still, taller and filled out, and undeniably an adult. Somehow, seeing Jamie in unfamiliar surroundings drove home that he wasn't a child anymore, and although he ached at acknowledging the change, Jack could at least appreciate that Jamie had grown up well. Big brown eyes, a gravity-defying mess of brown hair, faintly tanned, freckly skin - he was still Jamie, there was just more of him.
Whatever Jamie was dreaming about had him tossing and turning, and Jack winced with guilt, hopped over to the window he'd come in through and closed it.
"I'm sorry," Jamie said quietly, and Jack whirled around, heart pounding in his chest.
Jamie was staring up at the ceiling, and Jack didn't know whether to be relieved or heartbroken.
"I tried so hard," Jamie continued, folding his arms tight as if hugging himself against the cold Jack had let in through the window. "I tried thinking about other girls, I tried thinking about other boys, but it's no good. I just can't think about anyone else."
Jack tiptoed around the room, looking at the photos Jamie had taped to the mirror over his bedroom sink, wondering who Jamie was losing sleep over.
"I've tried so hard and I know it’s ridiculous to ask, but do you think -" Jamie cut himself off, climbed out of bed and straightened his clothes. Jack blushed slightly at the sight of Jamie's bared legs and arms, the boxers and t-shirt he'd worn to bed hardly covering anything, and stepped aside so Jamie could get to the sink. It didn't matter that Jamie could walk through him now; there were people he could bear passing through him, but the thought of Jamie doing it was too much. "Goddamnit," Jamie sighed, checking his teeth and his breath. "If I just knew what to say - Flynn Rider wouldn't have this problem."
Jack tilted his head, not sure who Flynn Rider was, and took a quick step back again when Jamie turned towards him, afraid of Jamie accidentally reaching through him without a thought. "Flynn Rider can't be smarter than you," Jack teased, leaning against the side of the wardrobe and biting his lip as he admired Jamie's legs.
"I don't even know if I dreamed you," Jamie said, and Jack laughed.
"Okay, that's corny."
"I mean it," Jamie snapped, hands balled into fists. "Do you know what it's like, not growing up? I tried to stop believing, I tried to pretend it was all a fantasy like in books, but I'm sure, I'm so sure I hugged you. I know I was a kid but I felt it, and I remember you being beautiful just like you're gorgeous now, but you never, ever change and how can that be real?"
Jamie stepped back from the sink and looked over, straight through Jack, and it wiped the smile from Jack's face because he hadn't seen Jamie look so hurt or scared in years - not since Pitch was around, maybe not even then.
"Do you know what it's like being in love with someone who doesn't exist?"
Jamie moved closer, close enough Jack couldn't get past him without walking through him, and Jack backed up against the wall, hoping and praying Jamie wouldn't make him do that. It wasn't Jamie's fault, but he wasn't ready for it.
"Jack..."
Jack didn't hear the rest of the sentence, too afraid he'd misheard. Jamie couldn't have said it - not at this age, not when he'd moved out, not when he was bright enough to be in college. He couldn't believe.
Jamie raised a hand, almost touching it to Jack's shoulder before pausing, his eyes watering over.
"Are you real?" Jamie asked. "Please, just, do something. Anything."
Jack almost didn't dare move, but he couldn't help remembering a much smaller boy holding a stuffed rabbit, begging for his faith to be rewarded.
Jack lifted his own hand, unable to breathe until his fingers brushed Jamie's wrist and found it solid, and he gasped almost in time with Jamie when they did.
"You're -" Jamie didn't finish the sentence on his first try, linking his fingers with Jack's before pushing their joined hands back against the wall. "You're real. You're really real!"
"I'm real," Jack said back, his own smile shaky, his heart thudding so hard in his chest that it hurt.
"And you - oh, god, you heard everything, you - oh, fuck." Jamie's relief seemed to be replaced by sudden panic, but he kept staring at their joined hands, and Jack found something that should have been very, very obvious clicking into place.
"You love me?"
Jamie nodded, and Jack bit his lip nervously before reaching out with his free hand and touching Jamie's jaw, not quite believing that he could feel the light scratch of stubble.
"Jamie -" Jack said, feeling exposed but comforted by the fact he knew Jamie couldn't be feeling much better, "- can you kiss me?"
Jamie was more than willing to try.
* * *
Jamie grabbed Jack's other hand, pinning both back against the wall, and there was just a split second of hesitation before Jamie kissed him.
It was too hard at first, a mess of bumped noses and tightly closed lips before Jamie pulled back. "You're real," Jamie repeated, and Jack had never known anyone to look at him the way Jamie did just then - like there was nothing else in the world, like Jack was perfect. Jamie's thumbs traced Jack's wrists, warm and firm and real, so, so real, and Jack wondered if anyone else would ever make him feel alive like Jamie did before Jamie kissed him again and stole his thoughts.
Jack didn't remember kisses from his past life, and it was only as he felt Jamie's lips pliant against his own that he caught himself realising this was his first real kiss - or second, technically, but the first one he'd had any real chance to enjoy. He'd seen people kiss, but that was always something distant, something where he hadn't ever been able to really imagine what it felt like.
Kissing Jamie was like inviting warmth into his whole body - better than breathing, better than sleeping, something that felt as if he'd always needed it to live but never knew until he tried it. It was like sharing some part of him that had to be shared to exist - and at the same time it was so, so simple, just the touch of his lips to Jamie's, and when Jamie opened their mouths a little wider, the touch of Jamie's tongue to his.
Jack didn't know if he was a good kisser, but he was willing to practise as long as it took if it meant Jamie would keep doing this with him.
By the time Jamie let go of his wrists, Jack had lost all track of the time, all track of his thoughts before Jamie woke up, and when Jamie pulled back from the kiss, nuzzling Jack's nose with his own, all Jack wanted to do was grab Jamie by the back of the head and kiss him again. And again, and again, and again. Forever.
Jamie lowered his hands to Jack's waist, and Jack felt the strange combination of heavy warmth settling in his stomach while a shiver ran up his spine at the touch. "Don't take this the wrong way," Jamie said, his fingers slipping under Jack's hoodie, "But I really, really want to fuck you."
Jack whimpered, unable to come up with any actual words for a reply, and the heat of Jamie's hands on the bare skin under his hoodie made it even harder to think.
"Please, Jack," Jamie said, and Jack couldn't help but stare down at the outline of Jamie's erection, barely disguised by the thin material of his boxers, "Tell me I can fuck you. Or suck you off, I don't care, I -"
"Yes," Jack interrupted, almost hitting Jamie's nose with his forehead while nodding, "Yes, yes."
Jamie's laugh of relief came out as little more than a breath before he pulled his hands out from under Jack's hoodie and hooked one arm under Jack's hips, the other around Jack's shoulders, lifting him up and carrying him over to the bed.
If it weren't for how Jamie watched him, Jack would have felt painfully self-conscious as he stripped off his hoodie and unbuckled his belt; he'd always been skinny, but seeing how Jamie looked under his t-shirt made Jack acutely aware of just how thin he was in comparison.
It didn't seem to matter to Jamie, and as soon as Jack's chest was bare Jamie wouldn't take his hands off it, the warmth of his fingers tracing over ribs and stomach and sides and back, Jamie breaking away from another kiss to lick down Jack's neck.
Jack didn't let Jamie's lips travel far before he arched up and grabbed Jamie by the back of the head, kissing him again. He didn't want to stop kissing Jamie, not even for breath, and he knew other people liked being kissed and nibbled elsewhere but if it meant losing Jamie's lips on his own, he wasn't interested.
If Jamie was disappointed by that he didn't show it, and only pulled away from kissing Jack again to lean over the side of the bed, digging around under it before sitting back up and clutching a thin tube in his hand. "Do you..." Jamie started before looking away, catching his breath, and Jack felt a strange surge of pride at the idea this was his fault - the idea that he was the one who had left Jamie breathless. "It's easier on hands and knees but -" Jamie started blushing fiercely and Jack reached up, cupping Jamie's face in his hands and resting his fingertips behind Jamie's ears.
"I've not done this before," Jack reminded Jamie, hoping to give him confidence by sharing the fact he was no expert either. "I just want to see your face."
Jamie's blush didn't go away, but at least he could smile through it now, and he nodded before popping the tube between his lips for safe-keeping, freeing his hands up so he could help Jack out of his pants and strip off his own boxers.
Jack felt his heart start racing again when Jamie spat the tube back into his hand and opened it, squeezing colourless gel onto his fingertips, because he knew what it was meant for and he didn't know what to expect. He'd masturbated before - countless times, in all honesty - but he'd never tried putting his fingers inside himself. Even after the education of centuries taught him it wasn't necessarily a painful or even a dirty thing, he'd never felt the urge to investigate.
Jamie braced one hand on Jack's stomach, smiled at him quickly in a way Jack guessed was meant to be reassuring, before his slicked-up fingers disappeared out of sight, Jack feeling the pressure of them against his ass.
"It shouldn't hurt," Jamie said, and that was more reassuring than his smile had been. "I've tried it before."
The thought of Jamie fingering himself distracted Jack from the worst of the discomfort as Jamie started to stretch him, two fingers slicking him up well before a third joined to open him up, and it was strange realising that there really wasn't any pain. He'd expected some, at the very least, but all he felt was heat, intense enough that it almost, almost burned, but never quite reaching the point of hurting.
The hand on his stomach dipped lower, and Jack threw his head back moments after Jamie first started rubbing his cock. Somehow the press of fingers inside him only intensified the pleasure of Jamie's hand on his cock, instead of taking away from it, and although Jamie wasn't inside him yet, Jack could guess this was part of the appeal of sex.
Jamie let go all too soon, sliding his fingers back out before lubing them up again and wrapping them around his own cock, not to stroke for fun, just to make sure he was slick.
Jack had worried they wouldn't fit together comfortably, but when Jamie knelt between his legs, it was easy for Jack to hook his calves over Jamie's thighs, his ankles around Jamie's hips. It was as though he'd been designed so they could fit together, and Jack reached down between his own legs, gripping Jamie's cock and guiding it inside him, wanting to see if he was right.
Jamie pushed in, pulled out, pushed in again, and Jack shut his eyes tight, finding out quickly that the strange pleasure fingers could offer had nothing on this. Jamie's fingers were kind and clever, but his cock kept rubbing against something inside Jack, something Jack hadn't expected, and it was stealing his ability to think, to breathe, to kiss.
Jamie kept the pace slow at first and Jack was thankful for the reprieve because he didn't know how he could have stood it otherwise; every thrust had him feeling like he'd never have enough oxygen again.
"Jack," Jamie gasped, "Jack, look at me."
Jack nodded, reached out blindly for one of Jamie's hands and linking fingers with it again, rested it against his thigh just so he could have something solid to brace himself with.
"Jack, please -"
"I will," Jack choked out, concentrating on their linked hands, the one place they were joined where the sensation wasn't overwhelming. "I will, please, give me a second." He forced himself to take slower breaths, opened his eyes slowly, and didn't dare imagine how he looked himself, because in that instant, Jamie was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Whatever Jamie thought of him, Jamie was his light - his first believer - the first person who had ever made him feel real, and now he'd given him this, something Jack never thought he could have.
Jamie's hips started jerking roughly, what little friction Jack had felt inside himself replaced by a slide of wet heat, and when he realised from the strain in Jamie's muscles and the harsh breaths Jamie was taking that Jamie was coming inside him, Jack couldn't help but throw his head back hard, keening with the force of his own orgasm.
Jamie didn't move for a long time, and if it weren't for the fact he could feel the thump of Jamie's pulse at his wrist, Jack might have feared he'd somehow killed him. Jack didn't feel much like moving either, not wanting to lose the memory of what had just happened, not wanting to risk waking up and finding he'd dreamed everything.
When Jamie finally moved, it was only to lift his mouth away from Jack's neck where he'd started drooling, half-asleep with the heaviness of his eyelids showing he was thinking about nodding off entirely. Jack's grip on Jamie's wrist tightened. He didn't want the Sandman to have Jamie's dreams, not just yet.
"That just happened, didn't it?" Jamie said. "I didn't dream you."
"You didn't," Jack replied, "Though I'm starting to think I'm dreaming you."
Jamie grinned, using his free hand to pinch the delicate skin of Jack's inner thigh hard, and Jack quickly wriggled from underneath him, rubbing at the sore skin and glaring at Jamie all the while. "Hey, if you're dreaming -"
"I get it," Jack grumbled, before looking back up from his injury at Jamie, realising what he'd just done and grinning back. "I should probably go. There's a lot of winters... and. Things."
Jamie nodded, not taking his eyes off Jack and not losing his smile either.
"I owe Russia a lot of snow."
"Mmhm."
Jack felt his sense of duty back down quietly, letting him lie down at Jamie's side, wrap an arm around Jamie's waist, and be still for once.
"I missed you," Jamie said, and Jack closed his eyes, feeling how Jamie's breathing made the pillow shift just slightly, how the warmth radiating off his skin was concentrated all the more in the places where their bodies touched.
"Not as much as I did," Jack replied, honest without being bitter. Jamie had taken away his reasons for being bitter.
Again.
It was why Jack loved him back.
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Pairing: Jack Frost/Jamie Bennett
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3314
Summary: Written for the DW kink meme: Jack checks in on Jamie, all grown up and gone to college, and finds that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Jamie's childhood was fun while it lasted. Jack had new responsibilities, of course - he didn't have the tight schedule of the other guardians, but he did have to help winter along and watch out for children on slippery or thin ice - and the work could keep him away for months at a time. Even so, every year he would come back to Jamie, calling him out to play by throwing snowballs at his window.
The other children would come out to play too, though as the years went by they gradually stopped, sometimes to be replaced by younger siblings or new children in the area, sometimes not. Cupcake was one of the last of that first generation to stop, a fourteen-year-old tennis player who threw snowballs with pinpoint accuracy, until she met another fourteen-year -old tennis player and lost interest in Jack's idea of fun.
She was the only one who said goodbye.
Jack didn't get the hint the first time Jamie didn't come outside, or the second, coming up with excuses for the lack of response. Maybe Jamie was ill. Maybe Jamie was tired.
Sophie, now a teenager herself, was the one who broke the news. "He's grown up now," Sophie said, before grabbing Jack's hand and pulling him away from the house and onto the hill where the others were playing.
It was a bright day for winter, and Jack couldn't see the moon. It didn't stop him hating it.
Jack tried not to think about it too much each year when he came back to play with the other kids, but nothing changed how he felt every time he looked up at Jamie's window. Jamie's bedroom was the first place on Earth where he had felt real. Three hundred years of being lonely, of watching the world react to what he did without ever reacting to him, and then when all hope was lost, Jamie had said his name.
He still threw snowballs, just in case, but the only reaction he got was Sophie shaking her head and once, just once, a taller, skinny Jamie leaning out of the window to shout, "Cut it out guys, I'm working!"
It was almost an acknowledgement, and somehow that hurt more than being ignored.
It might have been easier to just give up, if Jack only knew how.
Jack would sneak back to Jamie's window at night sometimes, once all the children who believed had gone to bed, and look to see what had changed. It was still a cluttered room, though the toys were accompanied now by action figures and statues, the children's drawings on the walls replaced by posters. Jamie had grown into an avid reader, and when Jack caught him watching movies, so many of them featured dragons and aliens and monsters. Sometimes Jack watched the movies with him, just so he could pretend he still had Jamie's company.
The day finally came when he arrived at Jamie's window and found the bed empty and stripped back, many of the books gone and the computer absent. Sophie was too old to ask, too old to see him, but the other children knew. They didn't care, but they knew.
Jamie's mother was so proud of her boy, all grown up and gone to college.
* * *
Standing over Jamie in his new room, Jack couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia.
Jack knew Jamie had grown up. He'd watched, year by year, as Jamie grew taller and filled out. Not very tall - taller than Jack by a fair bit, yes, but not so much as to look strange next to his peers - and not very filled out either, because he'd not taken to sports that demanded huge muscles. But still, taller and filled out, and undeniably an adult. Somehow, seeing Jamie in unfamiliar surroundings drove home that he wasn't a child anymore, and although he ached at acknowledging the change, Jack could at least appreciate that Jamie had grown up well. Big brown eyes, a gravity-defying mess of brown hair, faintly tanned, freckly skin - he was still Jamie, there was just more of him.
Whatever Jamie was dreaming about had him tossing and turning, and Jack winced with guilt, hopped over to the window he'd come in through and closed it.
"I'm sorry," Jamie said quietly, and Jack whirled around, heart pounding in his chest.
Jamie was staring up at the ceiling, and Jack didn't know whether to be relieved or heartbroken.
"I tried so hard," Jamie continued, folding his arms tight as if hugging himself against the cold Jack had let in through the window. "I tried thinking about other girls, I tried thinking about other boys, but it's no good. I just can't think about anyone else."
Jack tiptoed around the room, looking at the photos Jamie had taped to the mirror over his bedroom sink, wondering who Jamie was losing sleep over.
"I've tried so hard and I know it’s ridiculous to ask, but do you think -" Jamie cut himself off, climbed out of bed and straightened his clothes. Jack blushed slightly at the sight of Jamie's bared legs and arms, the boxers and t-shirt he'd worn to bed hardly covering anything, and stepped aside so Jamie could get to the sink. It didn't matter that Jamie could walk through him now; there were people he could bear passing through him, but the thought of Jamie doing it was too much. "Goddamnit," Jamie sighed, checking his teeth and his breath. "If I just knew what to say - Flynn Rider wouldn't have this problem."
Jack tilted his head, not sure who Flynn Rider was, and took a quick step back again when Jamie turned towards him, afraid of Jamie accidentally reaching through him without a thought. "Flynn Rider can't be smarter than you," Jack teased, leaning against the side of the wardrobe and biting his lip as he admired Jamie's legs.
"I don't even know if I dreamed you," Jamie said, and Jack laughed.
"Okay, that's corny."
"I mean it," Jamie snapped, hands balled into fists. "Do you know what it's like, not growing up? I tried to stop believing, I tried to pretend it was all a fantasy like in books, but I'm sure, I'm so sure I hugged you. I know I was a kid but I felt it, and I remember you being beautiful just like you're gorgeous now, but you never, ever change and how can that be real?"
Jamie stepped back from the sink and looked over, straight through Jack, and it wiped the smile from Jack's face because he hadn't seen Jamie look so hurt or scared in years - not since Pitch was around, maybe not even then.
"Do you know what it's like being in love with someone who doesn't exist?"
Jamie moved closer, close enough Jack couldn't get past him without walking through him, and Jack backed up against the wall, hoping and praying Jamie wouldn't make him do that. It wasn't Jamie's fault, but he wasn't ready for it.
"Jack..."
Jack didn't hear the rest of the sentence, too afraid he'd misheard. Jamie couldn't have said it - not at this age, not when he'd moved out, not when he was bright enough to be in college. He couldn't believe.
Jamie raised a hand, almost touching it to Jack's shoulder before pausing, his eyes watering over.
"Are you real?" Jamie asked. "Please, just, do something. Anything."
Jack almost didn't dare move, but he couldn't help remembering a much smaller boy holding a stuffed rabbit, begging for his faith to be rewarded.
Jack lifted his own hand, unable to breathe until his fingers brushed Jamie's wrist and found it solid, and he gasped almost in time with Jamie when they did.
"You're -" Jamie didn't finish the sentence on his first try, linking his fingers with Jack's before pushing their joined hands back against the wall. "You're real. You're really real!"
"I'm real," Jack said back, his own smile shaky, his heart thudding so hard in his chest that it hurt.
"And you - oh, god, you heard everything, you - oh, fuck." Jamie's relief seemed to be replaced by sudden panic, but he kept staring at their joined hands, and Jack found something that should have been very, very obvious clicking into place.
"You love me?"
Jamie nodded, and Jack bit his lip nervously before reaching out with his free hand and touching Jamie's jaw, not quite believing that he could feel the light scratch of stubble.
"Jamie -" Jack said, feeling exposed but comforted by the fact he knew Jamie couldn't be feeling much better, "- can you kiss me?"
Jamie was more than willing to try.
* * *
Jamie grabbed Jack's other hand, pinning both back against the wall, and there was just a split second of hesitation before Jamie kissed him.
It was too hard at first, a mess of bumped noses and tightly closed lips before Jamie pulled back. "You're real," Jamie repeated, and Jack had never known anyone to look at him the way Jamie did just then - like there was nothing else in the world, like Jack was perfect. Jamie's thumbs traced Jack's wrists, warm and firm and real, so, so real, and Jack wondered if anyone else would ever make him feel alive like Jamie did before Jamie kissed him again and stole his thoughts.
Jack didn't remember kisses from his past life, and it was only as he felt Jamie's lips pliant against his own that he caught himself realising this was his first real kiss - or second, technically, but the first one he'd had any real chance to enjoy. He'd seen people kiss, but that was always something distant, something where he hadn't ever been able to really imagine what it felt like.
Kissing Jamie was like inviting warmth into his whole body - better than breathing, better than sleeping, something that felt as if he'd always needed it to live but never knew until he tried it. It was like sharing some part of him that had to be shared to exist - and at the same time it was so, so simple, just the touch of his lips to Jamie's, and when Jamie opened their mouths a little wider, the touch of Jamie's tongue to his.
Jack didn't know if he was a good kisser, but he was willing to practise as long as it took if it meant Jamie would keep doing this with him.
By the time Jamie let go of his wrists, Jack had lost all track of the time, all track of his thoughts before Jamie woke up, and when Jamie pulled back from the kiss, nuzzling Jack's nose with his own, all Jack wanted to do was grab Jamie by the back of the head and kiss him again. And again, and again, and again. Forever.
Jamie lowered his hands to Jack's waist, and Jack felt the strange combination of heavy warmth settling in his stomach while a shiver ran up his spine at the touch. "Don't take this the wrong way," Jamie said, his fingers slipping under Jack's hoodie, "But I really, really want to fuck you."
Jack whimpered, unable to come up with any actual words for a reply, and the heat of Jamie's hands on the bare skin under his hoodie made it even harder to think.
"Please, Jack," Jamie said, and Jack couldn't help but stare down at the outline of Jamie's erection, barely disguised by the thin material of his boxers, "Tell me I can fuck you. Or suck you off, I don't care, I -"
"Yes," Jack interrupted, almost hitting Jamie's nose with his forehead while nodding, "Yes, yes."
Jamie's laugh of relief came out as little more than a breath before he pulled his hands out from under Jack's hoodie and hooked one arm under Jack's hips, the other around Jack's shoulders, lifting him up and carrying him over to the bed.
If it weren't for how Jamie watched him, Jack would have felt painfully self-conscious as he stripped off his hoodie and unbuckled his belt; he'd always been skinny, but seeing how Jamie looked under his t-shirt made Jack acutely aware of just how thin he was in comparison.
It didn't seem to matter to Jamie, and as soon as Jack's chest was bare Jamie wouldn't take his hands off it, the warmth of his fingers tracing over ribs and stomach and sides and back, Jamie breaking away from another kiss to lick down Jack's neck.
Jack didn't let Jamie's lips travel far before he arched up and grabbed Jamie by the back of the head, kissing him again. He didn't want to stop kissing Jamie, not even for breath, and he knew other people liked being kissed and nibbled elsewhere but if it meant losing Jamie's lips on his own, he wasn't interested.
If Jamie was disappointed by that he didn't show it, and only pulled away from kissing Jack again to lean over the side of the bed, digging around under it before sitting back up and clutching a thin tube in his hand. "Do you..." Jamie started before looking away, catching his breath, and Jack felt a strange surge of pride at the idea this was his fault - the idea that he was the one who had left Jamie breathless. "It's easier on hands and knees but -" Jamie started blushing fiercely and Jack reached up, cupping Jamie's face in his hands and resting his fingertips behind Jamie's ears.
"I've not done this before," Jack reminded Jamie, hoping to give him confidence by sharing the fact he was no expert either. "I just want to see your face."
Jamie's blush didn't go away, but at least he could smile through it now, and he nodded before popping the tube between his lips for safe-keeping, freeing his hands up so he could help Jack out of his pants and strip off his own boxers.
Jack felt his heart start racing again when Jamie spat the tube back into his hand and opened it, squeezing colourless gel onto his fingertips, because he knew what it was meant for and he didn't know what to expect. He'd masturbated before - countless times, in all honesty - but he'd never tried putting his fingers inside himself. Even after the education of centuries taught him it wasn't necessarily a painful or even a dirty thing, he'd never felt the urge to investigate.
Jamie braced one hand on Jack's stomach, smiled at him quickly in a way Jack guessed was meant to be reassuring, before his slicked-up fingers disappeared out of sight, Jack feeling the pressure of them against his ass.
"It shouldn't hurt," Jamie said, and that was more reassuring than his smile had been. "I've tried it before."
The thought of Jamie fingering himself distracted Jack from the worst of the discomfort as Jamie started to stretch him, two fingers slicking him up well before a third joined to open him up, and it was strange realising that there really wasn't any pain. He'd expected some, at the very least, but all he felt was heat, intense enough that it almost, almost burned, but never quite reaching the point of hurting.
The hand on his stomach dipped lower, and Jack threw his head back moments after Jamie first started rubbing his cock. Somehow the press of fingers inside him only intensified the pleasure of Jamie's hand on his cock, instead of taking away from it, and although Jamie wasn't inside him yet, Jack could guess this was part of the appeal of sex.
Jamie let go all too soon, sliding his fingers back out before lubing them up again and wrapping them around his own cock, not to stroke for fun, just to make sure he was slick.
Jack had worried they wouldn't fit together comfortably, but when Jamie knelt between his legs, it was easy for Jack to hook his calves over Jamie's thighs, his ankles around Jamie's hips. It was as though he'd been designed so they could fit together, and Jack reached down between his own legs, gripping Jamie's cock and guiding it inside him, wanting to see if he was right.
Jamie pushed in, pulled out, pushed in again, and Jack shut his eyes tight, finding out quickly that the strange pleasure fingers could offer had nothing on this. Jamie's fingers were kind and clever, but his cock kept rubbing against something inside Jack, something Jack hadn't expected, and it was stealing his ability to think, to breathe, to kiss.
Jamie kept the pace slow at first and Jack was thankful for the reprieve because he didn't know how he could have stood it otherwise; every thrust had him feeling like he'd never have enough oxygen again.
"Jack," Jamie gasped, "Jack, look at me."
Jack nodded, reached out blindly for one of Jamie's hands and linking fingers with it again, rested it against his thigh just so he could have something solid to brace himself with.
"Jack, please -"
"I will," Jack choked out, concentrating on their linked hands, the one place they were joined where the sensation wasn't overwhelming. "I will, please, give me a second." He forced himself to take slower breaths, opened his eyes slowly, and didn't dare imagine how he looked himself, because in that instant, Jamie was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Whatever Jamie thought of him, Jamie was his light - his first believer - the first person who had ever made him feel real, and now he'd given him this, something Jack never thought he could have.
Jamie's hips started jerking roughly, what little friction Jack had felt inside himself replaced by a slide of wet heat, and when he realised from the strain in Jamie's muscles and the harsh breaths Jamie was taking that Jamie was coming inside him, Jack couldn't help but throw his head back hard, keening with the force of his own orgasm.
Jamie didn't move for a long time, and if it weren't for the fact he could feel the thump of Jamie's pulse at his wrist, Jack might have feared he'd somehow killed him. Jack didn't feel much like moving either, not wanting to lose the memory of what had just happened, not wanting to risk waking up and finding he'd dreamed everything.
When Jamie finally moved, it was only to lift his mouth away from Jack's neck where he'd started drooling, half-asleep with the heaviness of his eyelids showing he was thinking about nodding off entirely. Jack's grip on Jamie's wrist tightened. He didn't want the Sandman to have Jamie's dreams, not just yet.
"That just happened, didn't it?" Jamie said. "I didn't dream you."
"You didn't," Jack replied, "Though I'm starting to think I'm dreaming you."
Jamie grinned, using his free hand to pinch the delicate skin of Jack's inner thigh hard, and Jack quickly wriggled from underneath him, rubbing at the sore skin and glaring at Jamie all the while. "Hey, if you're dreaming -"
"I get it," Jack grumbled, before looking back up from his injury at Jamie, realising what he'd just done and grinning back. "I should probably go. There's a lot of winters... and. Things."
Jamie nodded, not taking his eyes off Jack and not losing his smile either.
"I owe Russia a lot of snow."
"Mmhm."
Jack felt his sense of duty back down quietly, letting him lie down at Jamie's side, wrap an arm around Jamie's waist, and be still for once.
"I missed you," Jamie said, and Jack closed his eyes, feeling how Jamie's breathing made the pillow shift just slightly, how the warmth radiating off his skin was concentrated all the more in the places where their bodies touched.
"Not as much as I did," Jack replied, honest without being bitter. Jamie had taken away his reasons for being bitter.
Again.
It was why Jack loved him back.