Fic: Yet Another New Neighbour.

[secretshipper]

Title: Yet Another New Neighbour

Pairing: Clameron

Rating: NC-17 (And I really, really mean it!)

Synopsis: Wherein David is not as terribly British as before, Nick is still terribly Liberal, and morning coffee becomes evening meals as well.

Authors note: The sequel to The Best Kind of Bad Neighbour. The world that refused to die. Shamelessly romantic, completely impossible, and likely to induce either cavities or melting chairs, or both.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Didn't really happen and is unlikely to.

Nick had fallen asleep again, it was starting to become a habit. This time, though, David felt perfectly comfortable stroking his hand along Nick's back; he was not taking advantage. They had curled up together on the settee to watch Spooks, their attention often diverted as Nick craned his neck upward to catch David's mouth with his own. It was late, according to the clock, but David did not even think of leaving, content to rest his cheek against the top of Nick's head and drift off to sleep.

He woke to find a grinning Nick staring up at him through his eyelashes, a grinning Nick who then proceeded to kneel on all fours and nuzzle his face into the side of David's neck in a manner most pleasing.

“Mm, good morning, Dave. What would you like for breakfast?”

David rather thought he would like Nick for breakfast, but it was far too early a stage in their relationship for that kind of thing, so he pressed a relatively chaste kiss to Nick's cheek and said, “Toast maybe?”

“No bread,” Nick replied, nibbling his way to David's ear. And goodness that was very distracting and led to thoughts of things that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with removing Nick's shirt.

“Cereal?” David questioned, a few moments later than he would have liked.

“No milk,” came the reply, and David suddenly understood Susan's worry about Nick eating out of boxes; Nick's cupboards were practically empty. Nick's hand was working its way down David's chest as Nick raised his head to capture David's lips with his own, plunging his tongue into David's mouth and making further comment impossible for the moment.

Breathing heavily, David stopped Nick's hand as it threatened to venture below his waist. “Nick, I...” Feeling suddenly at a loss for words, David stopped. Nick's face flashed confusion and then understanding.

“Sorry, being a bit quick off the mark, aren't I?” He smiled softly at David and David felt relieved that Nick understood what he meant.

“Sorry,” David said.

“Don't apologise, David.” Nick dropped a quick kiss onto David's chin and got up, holding a hand out to help David from the settee. “Come on, let's see if we can find something for breakfast.”

Nick's cupboards had yielded the frugal offering of a box of eggs, which Nick served scrambled after David had returned from fetching some milk from his own flat. Nick, while never appearing to be bothered by manners, had refused David's offer of help and insisted that he sit at the table while Nick waited on him, pouring him coffee and fetching him cutlery to eat with. And in spite of Nick not being terribly good in the kitchen, the scrambled eggs were surprisingly tasty.

“That was delicious, thank you,” David complimented as he finished.

“Well in spite of what you and my sister think, I can actually cook, you know.” Nick's hand strayed across the table and caught hold of David's, fingers dragging across David's knuckles. Biting his lip, Nick said, “Mm, is good to be able to finally do this. It feels like I've wanted to forever.”

Turning his hand over, David entwined their fingers. “When did you..?”

“I knew it right away, David,” Nick stated simply. It appeared that Nick would only use his proper name in situations of some gravity, David thought, and found himself unexpectedly pleased by the idea, and the further thought that those situations might occur more frequently from now on. “You?” Nick questioned.

“When you hurt your hand. It was something of a surprise.”

Nick chuckled, breaking the sober mood of the conversation. “And I bet until then I was the annoying fellow from next door who kept disturbing your breakfast.”

“Close,” David ginned.

Leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner, Nick whispered, “I would have stopped if you hadn't started cooking for me.”

“I had to do something to stop you feeding me croissants,” David laughed.

Rolling his eyes, Nick declared, “No one appreciates the humble croissant. Such a shame.”

Stifling a grin, David noticed that the wall clock was close to reaching ten-thirty, and realised that he would have to leave if he was going to be on time for his meeting. Seeing David looking at the clock, Nick said, “No chance I can keep you today, is there.”

“Unfortunately not,” David replied sadly. “Will you come over this evening?”

“If you like.”

“I'd like it very much,” David said. “Is seven o'clock all right?”

“Seven it is.”

Untangling their fingers, David stood up, leaned over to Nick and kissed him on the cheek. “If you want anything special for dinner text me and I'll go shopping.”

~*~*~

Can't concentrate at all today. It's your fault. - Nick x

The message arrived as David was walking along Virginia Street, and he smiled to himself as he typed out a reply.

I'm sorry. Are you working on anything important? - David

Nothing that won't wait. Can we have something with chicken for dinner? - Nick x

David let his mind wander through recipes he knew that contained chicken.

How about chicken and asparagus roulades? - David

I have no idea what that is, Dave. Sounds lovely. - Nick x

David grinned, typed a reply telling Nick he would be busy in his meeting for an hour, and pocketed his phone as he pushed the door to the Times' building open.

Emerging two hours later, tired and slightly stressed out by his editor, David walked back to the tube station remembering that he had to go shopping for dinner, and pulling his phone out to see if he had any messages from Nick.

How was the meeting? - Nick x

David smiled - of course there was a message from Nick, and his pulse quickened unexpectedly as he thought of the morning; Nick pressing kisses into his neck and the silently roving hand. David dropped his phone.

Frowning and stooping down to retrieve it, David checked to see if there was any damage. Thankfully, the phone seemed fine. David on the other hand was shaken because, for the first time in his forty-four years, the thought of someone - Nick - touching him had his stomach churning.

He'd had relationships, of course he had, and he certainly was not a virgin, but it had never been like this. They were pleasant, comfortable, but never really missed when they ended. But David had the distinct feeling that Nick, with his cheerful grin and habit of calling him 'Dave', would be missed if he were to depart David's life, and he did not quite know how he felt about that.

Sighing at his wandering thoughts, David typed Nick a message and entered the tube station.

When he arrived home an hour later laden with groceries, David packed them into the refrigerator and went to the living room to switch on his computer, thinking he would get a couple of hours of work done before he started making dinner for himself and Nick. And before long it was six o'clock and David was standing in the kitchen, his stomach fluttering nervously.

This was most definitely a date.

Oh dear.

~*~*~

Nick, it turned out, did indeed enjoy the meal David had prepared. Eating hungrily and brushing his leg absently - no, deliberately - against David's under the table, prompting David to blush and duck his head shyly until Nick chuckled at him.

“You look positively scandalised, Dave. Something the matter?”

“Yes. I have apparently invited a rogue to my dinner table,” David replied, trying his best to glare at Nick and not succeeding very well.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Nick's face was a picture of innocence, even as his foot travelled up to David's knee. Had Nick taken his shoe off? Heavens, he had!

Oh, but this had to stop, before David did something entirely inappropriate on his dining table, something that - this time - did involve food. David flustered, falling silent as Nick's foot slid back down and hooked around his ankle. “You drive me to bloody distraction,” he muttered.

“Do I now?” Nick asked, ginning at David wickedly as his foot began to move again.

David closed his eyes tightly and hissed, “You know damn well that you do.” Nick's foot disappeared, and David heard the scape of a chair being pushed back. Oh, he's going to leave, David thought, but Nick didn't. Arms slipped about David's shoulders gently.

“I'm sorry,” Nick whispered in David's ear. “I've never been terribly patient about these things.”

David nodded, because what could he say? That this was all so very new to him. That he wanted... dear God, he wanted to touch Nick... for Nick to touch him... and that it frightened him. David huffed out a shaky breath as Nick rubbed a gentle hand across his chest.

“David, are you..? I mean, have you ever..? With a man?” Nick asked softly.

In spite of his churning emotions, David gave a short, breathy laugh. “It's not that. I just never really cared about any of the others.”

“Oh,” Nick breathed, arms tightening around David briefly. “You... you care about me, then?”

“Yes,” David admitted, to himself as well as Nick. Nick kissed his cheek.

“I do, too. About you, I mean,” Nick said with unusual gravity, then less seriously, “Shall we finish dinner?”

David found his appetite had fled, he indicated no.

“Do you want me to go home?” Nick asked.

“No.”

“It's television or nothing then, Dave, because I can't stand here hugging you all night, somewhere more comfortable maybe, but not here,” Nick laughed. David nodded, and Nick stood up, picking up plates from the table and beginning to clear them away. David found he did not care that guests should not be doing dishes and helped.

They went to the living room and sat on the sofa, David picking up the remote control and flicking through the channels until he found something interesting that they both liked. When Nick slid an arm round David's shoulder and pulled him closer, David simply let his head fall against Nick's chest.

They watched in silence.

The film finished and David was just about to get up when he noticed that Nick had drifted off to sleep - again. Exhaling on a quiet laugh, he gently nudged Nick on the shoulder, determined the man wouldn't spend another night sleeping on his settee. “Nick?”

“Mmm,” Nick mumbled, holding David a little closer.

“Nick, wake up,” David persisted, once again rubbing at Nick's shoulder. This time Nick opened his eyes, blinking sleepily.

“What time is it?”

“Time for bed,” David said, realising then that he did indeed intend to invite Nick to spend the night and feeling suddenly nervous and excited all at once at the thought of having Nick curled up next to him, in bed this time rather then elsewhere.

“Sleepy, don't want to go home,” Nick complained.

David took hold of Nick's hand. “I wasn't suggesting you should go home,” he stated.

“Oh.”

“Come on, then,” David said. Rising from the settee and pulling Nick up with him, he led Nick down the hallway and into the bedroom, and began the unfamiliar process of undressing with someone watching him. Nick sat on the edge of David's bed looking uncertain for a moment and then removed his trousers and socks, but left his shirt on.

“I've a spare t-shirt if you want to borrow it?” David offered, moving to his chest of drawers and pulling out a crisp white t-shirt that he himself had never worn.

“Thanks,” Nick said as David placed it in his hands. David turned his back as Nick began to unbutton his shirt, quickly pulling on his own t-shirt before turning around again. Nick had slid beneath the covers, and David joined him, shifting to accommodate Nick as he curled himself into David's side.

“Night, David,” Nick yawned, wrapping his arm over David's stomach and settling his head on David's chest.

“Goodnight,” David replied.

They slept.

~*~*~

In the morning when David awoke, it took him a moment to realise that the soft warmth at his side was Nick, still sleeping. During the night Nick had shifted position and was now turned on his side facing away from David, knees tucked up a little. David moved to press a kiss into Nick's neck, folding his arm around Nick's waist and pulling him a little closer. Nick stirred and said, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” David replied, kissing Nick's neck a second time, then a third.

“Mm, that's nice,” came the sleepy response, and Nick's hand reached for David's. Yes, it was nice, David decided, and so he continued, moving upward to Nick's ear and catching the lobe between his lips. Nick wriggled; “Mm, David.”

And, oh, that made David's stomach tighten forcefully and determine that he would hear it again, he let his hand stray across Nick's chest, kissing his way along Nick's hairline and to the top of his spine; Nick leaned his head forward with a sigh.

Soon, David found his downward progress thwarted by the hem of the t-shirt he had lent Nick, and he tucked a finger beneath it and pulled it down to expose more skin, Nick's eager little moans urging him onward as he nipped and kissed and tasted.

Quite caught in a suddenly vivid fantasy of what might happen if he removed Nick's clothes, David felt the thought lodge in his head that no, oh no, he could not wait even one second longer, not with Nick so close and so willing. He ran his hand down Nick's side to pull the t-shirt up, bunching it over Nick's head and, for the moment, trapping Nick's arms in front of him.

David returned his mouth to Nick's shoulder, feeling Nick shiver against him as he let his teeth drag lightly across Nick's shoulder blades.

“David.” A hissed whisper as Nick freed his arms from the confines of the t-shirt and twisted to face David.

Nick kissed him, gasping into his mouth, hand roving over David's chest, on his shoulder, in his hair. David moaned deeply and found skin, warm and soft and yielding under his hands; the curve of spine leading down to a tight behind which David used to drag Nick closer still, pressing their bodies together. David could feel that Nick was completely hard, he tightened his grip a little and ground his hips forward, shuddering when Nick exclaimed, “David!”

The hand that was roaming the upper half of David's body dived lower, running beneath his boxers. Nick was shifting impatiently against him, seemingly unable to decide if he wanted to pull David on top of him or the other way around; the matter finally decided when David himself pulled Nick atop him as he fell onto his back.

Lifting his head, Nick breathlessly whispered, “Fuck, David, I want you.”

David had no time to do anything more than moan before Nick kissed him once more, hands raking David's t-shirt up across his chest and then tugging it over his head to be discarded to the floor as Nick's mouth moved to kiss David's chest; lips dragging and tongue trailing until it reached the hard peak of a nipple, where it flicked.

“”Fuck,” David said in a tight, needful voice, hand finding Nick's head for a second, brushing through already mussed hair, before falling away.

Nick's eager mouth mapped a path down, tongue sweeping across David's skin to his belly, and then - “Ah!” - “Nick!” - “Yes!” - mouthing wetly against fabric, making David fist his hands into the sheet, arching his back and moaning loudly as Nick tugged the cotton out of the way.

Squeezing his eyes closed, David lost himself entirely to the sensation of hot mouth and quick flicking tongue as Nick hummed around him with obvious pleasure, hand pressing into David's hip to still the insistent tremor of movement. David's thoughts melting into a single cry of: OhyesohNickohyes.

Until suddenly that clever mouth was gone and Nick was level with David again, asking, “David, do you have..?”

Quickly turning to the dresser, David took out a small bottle and passed it to Nick's waiting hand and Nick worked his own boxers off before returning to where he was before, scattering kiss-bites down David's thigh as he urged his legs apart. Then Nick's mouth returned as a slick, gentle finger pressed into him; moved and slid and searched and found, leaving David shivering and helplessly wailing.

David fell apart, unable to do anything but keen Nick's name as Nick worked two and then three fingers into him, pleasure rippling through David's body and setting him to a near-permanent state of quivering limbs and desperate begging - for Nick to stop; for Nick to continue; for Nick to - Please! - Nick! - Please! - just fuck him already because...

Rising, Nick urged David's legs around his hips and positioned himself, pressing in slowly with patient twitches of hip and David looked up to see Nick biting down fiercely on his lower lip, eyes closed as he gasped stuttering breaths; shoulders shaking restlessly. His hand sought for and found David's on the bed-sheet, holding tightly, palm against palm.

Everything ceased for an endless second, suspended as Nick's eyes opened at long last and found David's, holding with an unfocussed, wanton gaze, and David heard his name in a voice so hushed that it was nearly non-existent.

Then Nick was moving, each thrust so slow and so gloriously long that David suddenly found he couldn't breath for trying and he was trembling with sheer, unadulterated need; throwing his head back and crying out in complete abandon.

When Nick pulled David up by the waist, leaving only his shoulders and head touching the mattress, altering the angle, David knew somehow, through the dizzying ecstasy and tormentingly unhurried pace, that Nick intended to prolong the encounter indefinitely, and David found himself pleading unashamedly for more, please, faster until his breath would not come at all.

Nick placed his hand on David's stomach, soothing. “Steady, David. Breath.”

“Fuck - Nick - What are you doing to m..?!” The last word died in David's mouth as Nick lifted David's leg and stooped a little, pressing his mouth to the back of David's knee, and - Oh - Fuck - carried on as before; tongue swirling on sensitive skin. David whimpered a series of hoarse, incoherent expletives.

Oh, God, Nick was good at this, so achingly fucking perfect, with his nimble, steady movements and mouth that whispered an endless string of lustful, loving words into David's skin as he reduced David to a writhing, quaking wreck beneath him; strong hands gripping and holding in all the right places, at all the right times to make David see stars but not explosions.

David felt Nick lean down over him and wrap David's arms around his neck, picking David up so they were both upright and David was able to catch Nick's mouth with his own in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss, broken with a gasp when David realised that his movement was no longer restricted by Nick's arms and jerked his hips.

Completely out of control, knowing it and not caring, David wrapped his legs tight around Nick's waist; he rocked and bucked and rode, slamming his hips down, again, and again, and faster. Moving with increasing, frantic urgency as Nick's gravelly voice sounded in his ear, “David. You are fucking stunning like this.”

David flung back his head, screamed his throat dry and his head empty, because - Fuck - he never knew it could be like this! - and maybe he had half-expected the whole thing would be rushed and a little fumbled like it had been with everyone else but he never expected this; the exquisite, voracious longing that claimed and consumed, ruled him with a will of its own that he dare not defy.

With a final, jerky movement, David rushed to completion, heat pooling between their bodies. Nick thrust once, twice, then tensed as he followed suit; kissing David with slow, sated tenderness as he let them both fall gently back to the mattress and nestled into David's side.

It took David some time to regain even a measure of his usual composure, for even when his breath seemed to come easier, he would remember why it was lost and it would set to racing again. Nick, he noted, seemed to be having the same trouble. Eventually his chest stopped heaving and he was able to speak, but then he found himself with the dilemma of what to say.

Nick spoke first, setting the tone for the whole conversation as he whispered, “David.”

David turned to face him, wanting to hear what he said but also to acknowledge that his memory of events was true. At the loss of David's chest, Nick curled his arm beneath his head for support, resting his chin against the back of his hand; he had a prominent welt on his lip where he had bitten and his eyes still carried a measure of dazed satisfaction.

“That was...” Nick broke off, biting his already injured lip further, then released it and continued, “Fuck, you were amazing.”

Searching for words, David's mind flitted through a vague list of platitudes and outright lies, but David settled for the truth. “I've never lost control like that with anyone. You are the only one who has ever...” - made me forget myself - made me feel... oh.

Nick angled his neck up and smiled, he untucked his arm and gently rubbed his thumb across David's cheekbone. “It was wonderful to watch you like that.” David blushed, wondering why he was embarrassed now, after the fact. “I quite like it when you're shy,” Nick continued, “But to see you so... it was thrilling.”

That was not helping David's blush recede, and he had a feeling Nick knew it. David leaned forward and kissed Nick, partly because he wanted to but mostly to stop Nick from talking.

“Mmm,” Nick said when David pulled away. “I think my legs are working again. Can I use your shower?”

“Of course.”

Nick left the room and David heard the sound of his shower spluttering to life a few minutes later. He lay on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling. Oh, had they really? Yes, they had. The happy, sated fatigue accompanied by various pleasant aches was proof of it - and God it had been... different.

Strikingly different from anything that had ever happened in the past. Nick had not rushed David to happy but somehow unsatisfying completion with brisk efficiency like any of David's other lovers; he was tender, caring, considerate. At the memory of Nick's agonisingly slow seduction, David gulped, because if Nick did that every time, David wasn't certain he would survive.

But, God it had been good - so good, so loving...

That was just the afterglow talking, David thought. The mellow mood was dulling his senses. He had only known Nick three months, and although he did care about Nick it certainly wasn't anything like that, not yet. David tried to banish the thought from his head, but it persisted, and flipped and skipped its way down to his chest, his heart.

David Cameron, you ridiculous fool, you are not in love with Nick Clegg!

But he was.

Oh dear.

And with that discovery, there came a whole new set of conventions. It would not be proper to just blurt it out during the course of conversation. - Excuse me, Nick, would you like tea? And by the way, I love you. - No, there had to be some sort of gesture, preferably romantic in nature, although that was not strictly necessary and could be dispensed with if the situation allowed.

David was still considering what that situation might be when Nick re-entered the room, towel wrapped around his hips. He walked over to where David was lying and stooped down, kissing David on the forehead.

“Legs not working yet, Dave?”

David's legs were working just fine, it was his mind that was failing to function properly in that moment, as it ran away and tangled his mouth shut amidst a variety of love-words that could not be expressed. Nick sat on the edge of the bed and began to pull on his clothes.

“I...” David began, but he could not finish. “Breakfast?”

“Considering the time, Dave. I should get to work,” Nick said, and David noticed that the display on his alarm clock was showing it was nearly noon. Where had the time gone? Nick pulled his shirt on, hands buttoning swiftly before he turned to David and, seeming to make a decision in his head, lay down and pulled David forward and kissed him. “I wish I could stay. I want to, but they are badgering me about the latest translation and I need to finish it. I'll see you tonight?”

David suddenly felt breathless, overwhelmed by emotion as he replied, “Seven?”

“Earlier,” Nick replied with a smile. “I'll translate quickly.”

“Oh, you don't have to.”

“I want to, David,” Nick said, with a swift peck to David's cheek as he uncoiled himself and rose to his feet, leaving David once again alone in his bed, contemplating just how to tell Nick how he felt.

After showering and getting dressed, David felt too restless to remain in his apartment, so he donned his coat, deciding that he would take a walk to the high street and maybe find somewhere quiet to eat lunch.

The walk to the high street was pleasant; David smiled merrily as he strolled along, sun warming his face. He enjoyed a cream tea in the quaint setting of The Old Library Tea Room and then started back to the house. Unhurriedly making his way past the other businesses that crowded the tiny High Street, David spotted the florist; he stopped, and then crossed the road.

Thinking for a moment, David selected a neat bunch of red tulips and carried them inside. The female florist gave him a cheerful, knowing smile.

“Would you like them wrapped?”

“Yes, please. If you wouldn't mind?” David answered.

“No problem, any preference on the colour?” the florist asked.

“White.”

Reaching under the counter to retrieve a white sheet of paper, she efficiently wrapped the flowers and handed them back to David. “That'll be twenty pounds, please? Cards are in the rack.”

David paid and turned his attention to the rack of gift cards, eventually selecting a pale blue one that bore no message and had a cheerful sunflower on the left side; he slipped it into his pocket, nodded to the florist, and left.

Once home, David dropped the bouquet on the kitchen table, fetched a pen from the drawer, and sat down after taking the gift card from his pocket. What should he write? He scratched his temple absently.

I love you.

Too direct.

Thank you.

Too gaudy.

Words and phrases swarmed about his head in a confusing endless array. From David. Love David. David. For you. For Nick. Blast it all he was getting nowhere, and at this rate he would still be sitting here trying to put pen to paper when Nick returned. David quickly wrote a message on the card.

With love, David.

There. He had written something at least and it wasn't too bad. David pushed the card amongst the delicate stems of the tulips; a little further down than was strictly necessary, which made it difficult to see.

“Afternoon, Dave,” Nick said as he entered the kitchen. David's eyes flew to the clock: 3:30. He knew Nick had said he would translate quickly, but he had not expected him until at least five. Nick wrapped his arms around David's waist and hugged him close, nothing more; no roaming hands or teasing kisses, he just held David against him, their cheeks pressing together. “Ah, I've waited all day to do this.”

When they separated, Nick noticed the flowers on the table, eyebrow raising. “Someone been sending you flowers?”

David took the bouquet in his hands. “They are - well, that is,” he bumbled. “I - um - I got them for you.” David thrust the flowers toward Nick, trying not to think how terribly unromantic his words had been. It was nothing like how he had pictured it, not at all. What he had pictured was confidently pressing the flowers into Nick's hands and then kissing him senseless.

“Gosh, Dave. That good was I?” Nick grinned cheekily, accepting the flowers and kissing David on the cheek. David's blush rivalled the tulips in colour.

“I - that is -,” David flustered, head catching and holding the thought that yes, dear God in heaven YES, Nick was that good, but that hadn't been the reason for the flowers and this was all heading south at an alarming rate. Nick had fetched a vase from the cupboard - and he knew exactly which cupboard David kept it in - and was peeling back the wrapper.

“Best put them in water,” Nick said.

“Yes,” David breathed, voice quiet because any moment now Nick would find the card and read what it said, and then one of two things would happen: Nick would return David's sentiments or he would not say anything at all. David closed his eyes and listened to the crinkle of plastic and sound of the tulips being placed in water. Then silence.

Daring to open his eyes a fraction, David found that Nick was leaning against the worktop with the card in his hand, reading, a small surprised smile on his lips. It was a smile, though, David thought, it wasn't a frown and it didn't show anything like discomfort at the words he had written.

Then Nick was crossing the kitchen and pulling David to him again, the card falling out of his hand as he said, “Ah, David. You know I do too.”

~*~*~

Nick was away for the week. He had offered for David to go with him, but David had all manner of deadlines hanging over his head; deadlines that he had quite carelessly pushed aside in favour of spending more time with Nick, and altogether too much time in bed.

Yet, David found that he could concentrate no better with Nick not around than he had been able to with Nick here. The silence of his flat seemed endless without Nick's cheerful chatter bouncing off the walls at all hours, and he missed sleeping next to Nick at night.

A week apart when you were in love felt like an awful long time. David smiled at the thought. Yes, he was in love; hopelessly, helplessly, completely in love - and it was reciprocated.

They spent almost every waking hour with each other, only parting company when one or other of them had a meeting they could not reschedule or needed to work without distraction; distraction which usually came in the form of an urgent need to touch each other - and that always ended with them stumbling clumsily through the hallway to the bedroom, because stopping kissing to watch where they were going seemed an utterly preposterous idea.

Sighing, David pushed aside those thoughts and returned to working on his article. He had made some progress when his blackberry beeped, and David practically leapt out of his chair to fetch it.

Fuck, David, I miss you. - Nick x

David smiled widely, positively beamed at the message.

You'll be home tomorrow. I can't wait to see you! - David

The reply was instant.

But that's a whole 24 hours away. :( - Nick x

You'll just have to be patient. - David

David laughed; Nick was not a patient person, well, except for in...

Gosh, you're bossy today. Quite like it, actually. ;) - Nick x

Blushing, David typed:

Do you now? - David

He was throwing fuel on the fire and he knew it.

Mm, yes. I like it when you're demanding. - Nick x

Hesitating, David replied:

Are you alone? - David

No, David, I'm in a room full of people. - Nick x

Well, he couldn't tell if that was meant in jest or not, and felt suddenly alarmed. What if it was true?

Are you really, because I can't tell? - David

No, I'm alone. Sadly you are not here to kiss me senseless. - Nick x

At the thought of kissing Nick, senseless no less, David abandoned his idea of a mundane conversation about what Nick had done that day and opted instead for:

If I were there I would do more than kiss you senseless. - David

Oh, really? Like what? - Nick x

I'd push you against the wall and

David accidentally sent the incomplete message before he could think of a way to finish the sentence.

Mm, tease... I want your hands on me. - Nick x

They will be the minute you get back. - David

The mood seemed to shift again, and David felt slightly relieved because he was struggling to think of what to say. The conversation was becoming rather more steamy than he had intended.

Promise? - Nick x

Yes. - David

I can't wait. It's so dull here, not fun at all. - Nick x

And with that the conversation slipped back to a discussion about how they were spending their day and David returned to his desk to finish his article.

~*~*~

I'm home! I'm in the lift! - Nick x

David opened his front door just as the lift pinged its arrival and the doors began to slide open, revealing Nick, dressed in a light grey suit, holding his suitcase one hand; a giant grin on his face. He stepped into the lobby, dropping his case to the floor and flinging himself at David with such force that he nearly knocked David over.

“Ah, I have missed you!” Nick exclaimed, and then his mouth was pressed against David's, swallowing David's answer with an urgent, fiery kiss, hands already tangled in David's hair as he pushed David back against the door frame and settled against him.

A little nervous about their location, in spite of the fact that their flats were the only two on the top floor, David pulled Nick inside and closed the door as Nick's hands flew to the buttons of David's shirt and began unfastening. David suddenly wondered how he had managed to go a week without Nick touching him and slid Nick's jacket from his shoulders, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor as he tugged Nick's tie to bring their mouths together.

The moan this action gained David caused him to wind the yellow strip around his hand, using it to urge Nick in the vague direction of the bedroom.

“I can leave it on if you like?” Nick whispered. David shivered and nodded, prompting Nick to add, “Mm, I should go away more often if this is what you're like when I get back.”

“I'd rather you didn't,” David replied, as he untucked the back of Nick's shirt and ran his hand underneath, stepping backwards down the hallway and dragging a willing Nick with him. His progress was halted when he found his back against the wall again and Nick's hand snaked downwards, rubbing the front of David's trousers.

“But you're so excited to see me,” Nick whispered huskily.

“I'm always excited to see you,” proclaimed David. “And I'd like to see more of you, if you don't mind.” He pushed Nick back against the opposite wall, hands working Nick's belt buckle open, so he could reach the buttons of Nick's trousers.

“Oh, so that's what comes after,” Nick teased. David silenced him with a kiss.

By the time they reached the bedroom they had managed, through a series of breathless encounters with David's walls, to divest each other of all their clothing - well, almost all; Nick had kept his tie on, and David was currently using it to prevent Nick's mouth from escaping his as they fell onto the bed, Nick straddling David's thighs as David sat upright on the mattress.

Nick began to buck against him, making David immediately want more. He wanted Nick, right then and right now. But he stopped himself, because Nick was somehow sending his wits to pieces again and surely in this position it should be David in charge. David closed his hand over the knot of the tie and used his free arm to still Nick's movements. Nick ducked his head down and caught David's mouth in a lusty kiss, clearly intent on carrying on and growling with frustration when David kept him from doing so.

Breaking the kiss, David slid Nick's tie upwards, over Nick's chin and nose to his eyes... and paused. Now there was an interesting thought. So when Nick reached up an impatient hand to finish what David had started, David caught him by the wrist and whispered, “Leave it?”

Nick bit his lip, appearing to think deeply before he replied, quietly, “Okay.”

Tightening the knot of the tie just enough to keep it in place, David shifted and lay Nick flat on the bed, letting his eyes wander over Nick's body as Nick wriggled impatiently.

“David?” Nick whimpered, hand blindly reaching out but failing to make contact.

“Mm,” David murmured, suddenly filled with an unexpected desire to tease Nick until he was begging - he ran his hand through the downy hair of Nick's chest, fingers creeping along skin. Folding his body carefully, David let his mouth travel Nick's exposed neck, teasing gently with his tongue. Nick tangled his fingers into the short hairs at the back of David's neck, giving a contented moan.

Lifting his head, David studied the prone figure lying on his bed; the long curve of neck and the crop of brown hair that poked untidily from beneath the tie. The expanse of chest and stomach; smooth hips and long legs. He wanted to taste all of it, from head to toe.

“David?” Nick questioned again, not reaching out this time. David let his mouth wander.

Neck first, but drifting to chest, tongue curling around nipples, lapping with hungriness, feeling them harden and hearing Nick moan. Lower then, finding a spot on Nick's stomach that made Nick gasp and shiver, with small pleas for David to stop teasing. Beyond, carefully avoiding the one place he knew Nick wanted his mouth, down Nick's legs, carefully exploring thighs and knees; Nick quaking beneath him and ardent hands attempting to tug him away.

“Please, David?”

Nick's chest rising and falling rapidly; expression taught, lip crushed under the weight of Nick's teeth. David smiled, letting his tongue touch Nick's hardness fleetingly, a long press of warmth.

“Ah! Fuck yes! David please!”

David moved his tongue in a long, slow movement, swirling it around the tip, before closing his mouth over Nick's erection and taking it into his mouth. Nick swore, filthy expletives escaping into the room, both hands finding David's head and holding desperately, pushing for more. David gently removed them, moving his mouth and letting his gaze stray to Nick's face.

Suddenly, David understood why Nick was never in any hurry, because as he watched Nick beneath him, eyes covered by the tie, mouth open on an endless gasp, body matching David's motions, David thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful and never wanted the sight to end. So he kept going.

“Oh, David, that's so good, so good,” Nick moaned quietly, palms rubbing David's shoulders tenderly.

David had a sudden realisation: Maybe this was the reason why it was so different from everyone else; he cared about Nick, wanted Nick to enjoy this, wanted to hear Nick enjoying it. And that seemed much more important than his own burgeoning need. He let his mouth follow the rhythm that Nick's hips were dictating, moved faster, until Nick was gasping and gripping his hair again. He let those gasps guide him until Nick was repeating his name endlessly, and Nick's breath came in intermittent cries; moved until Nick's hands clenched in his hair and warmth flooded his throat.

~*~*~

“He's a handsome fellow, eh, David? Who brought him? Was it Hannah?”

David turned to face the speaker, George Osborne, an acquaintance who perpetually looked as though he had a sour taste in his mouth. George was watching Nick as he talked to a group of David's female colleagues across the room.

“Actually, he is with me,” David said happily.

“Right, David. Pull the other one,” George replied, playfully punching David on the shoulder.

“Really, he is,” David insisted. “He's my next door neighbour.”

“You brought your neighbour to the party? Couldn't you find a date?” George questioned, giving David an earnest look. David sighed.

“He is my date, George.”

“Dream on, mate,” George scoffed. “You could never pull someone like him.”

Nick concluded his conversation and scanned the crowd, spotting David, he smiled and walked over. “Gosh, Dave, you've got to help me,” he said, clutching David's arm theatrically. “I think that lot intend to make off with me.”

Laughing, David turned back to George and said, “George, I'd like to introduce you to Nick.”

“Oh, hello, George,” Nick said cheerfully. He shook George's hand swiftly. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” George replied, looking rather stunned as Nick slipped his arm around David's waist.

“Are you a journalist too?” Nick asked politely.

“Yes. I was going to go into politics, but it never worked out that way,” George answered, smirking a little as David's face creased.

Nick laughed, “Dave has banned me from talking about politics. He says I'm a menace to polite society, and teacups. Isn't that right, Dave?”

“Heavens, you're not dating a red are you, David?” George interjected, visibly disturbed by the idea.

“Gracious, no!” David replied forcefully.

“No,” Nick added, still smiling. “It's decidedly worse, I'm afraid. I'm a liberal.”

“Oh, they're not too bad,” George stated. “We would've been stuffed if they hadn't joined us in coalition.” David looked around, glad that there was no crockery nearby, but Nick kept his arm around David's waist and did not start gesturing.

“Quite right, too. I am glad they did as well, it makes it easier to fix the rotten mess Labour left the country in,” Nick said.

Listening as the pair exchanged conversation about how they thought the government was doing, David was pleasantly surprised that George and Nick were getting on so well. If there was one person at the party who he had been hesitant about Nick meeting, it was George. George was staunchly conservative, especially with regard to the economy. It seemed that his worry had been unfounded. He studied Nick's face; smiling, cheerful, just a hint of tiredness around the eyes. Well, they had been staying up rather late these days.

Nick had practically moved in to David's flat and David was considering giving Nick a key to the front door, even though Nick had only ever used that door the once, it was more of a symbolic gesture. They had been dating now for seven months, and David thought it was beginning to get a bit serious - that was an understatement, of course, things were very serious, but David was uncertain what the next step should be, since none of his previous relationships had progressed this far. Should he ask Nick to move in with him?

“Looks like he's practically falling asleep,” George said.

Shaken from his reverie, David checked his watch. It was nearing midnight.

“I'd better take him off home,” Nick chuckled, bidding George farewell and leading David out of the room.

~*~*~

Several weeks after the party, David had officially asked Nick to move in with him, delighted when Nick agreed with eagerness, saying that he practically lived in David's flat anyway. David had helped Nick pack up his possessions into boxes and carry them back to David's flat, leaving them stacked at the far end of the dining room until homes could be found for them. What little furniture Nick wanted to keep, some of it replacing David's own, was transferred through the lobby, and Nick put the flat on the market and waited for a buyer.

Surprisingly, given the state of the housing market, it did not take long for Nick's estate agent to inform him that he had an offer, exactly his asking price. Nick accepted readily and the legal leg-work was swiftly completed. And that was that.

It had not taken much on either of their parts to adjust to their new living arrangements, falling into a comfortable, easy pattern of familiarity and routine. They eat breakfast, go to work, come home again in the evening, have dinner, and afterwards watch television or go to bed.

All of it was abruptly turned on its head with the arrival of their new neighbour.

David was sitting at his computer writing when he heard someone knocking on the front door, then the doorbell sounded several times in rapid succession as David made his way through the hallway, already feeling slightly irritated at the impatience of whoever was at his door. He put his hand on the yale lock, flicking the catch down and yanking the door open, and was met by a tall man with fuzzy, blond hair that twisted upwards in all directions, reminding David of a scarecrow.

“Sorry to bother you, old chap,” the man said. “Could I trouble you for a favour. I seem to have locked myself out.”

David wondered vaguely what this had to do with him, he was not a locksmith, and could not quite grasp why the stranger in front of him seemed to think he was capable of opening doors without keys. “Would you like to use the phone?” he asked politely.

“Top idea, but I was more thinking that I would climb over your railing and get in through the balcony door.”

Oh.

David held the door open for the other man to enter, closing it firmly once he was standing in the hallway. “This way, please,” David said, leading his unexpected guest through to the kitchen.

“Nice flat, live here alone do you?”

Biting down a sudden flush of anger at the man's impertinent question, David took a breath and replied, “No, I live here with my partner.”

“Great!” exclaimed the other. “At work is she?”

“Yes, he is at work,” David answered, hand resting on the patio door.

“Great!” the man repeated, his enthusiasm not dimmed one iota by David's words. “All for the LGBT community, you know, top bunch of people.” David did not answer, he simply slid the patio door open and let the other man through. “Thanks, old chap.”

“Don't mention it. Now, if there's nothing else, I am rather busy.” The man thanked him again, waving casually as he made his way to the railing and scrambled ungracefully over it, leg catching against the black metal.

And that was how David met Boris Johnson.

~*~*~

As David was making dinner, Nick arrived home and walked into the kitchen with a confused look on his face, dropping his briefcase under the kitchen table, he said, “I just had the strangest conversation with the new neighbour.”

David could well believe it, but the utter perplexity evident on Nick's features prompted him to ask, “Oh? What about?”

“I came out of the lift and he was carrying a box inside. He said we have a nice flat and then started talking about being reincarnated as an olive.” Nick shook his head as though it would somehow dislodge the memory of the conversation from his mind, and David had to admit that it was slightly more bizarre than he had imagined.

“An olive?” David frowned in confusion, momentarily forgetting the dinner preparations. Nick nodded, the expression on his face remaining fixed in confusion, and all David could think was: How did the subject even come up?

Nick slipped his arms around David's waist and kissed his neck tenderly. “What are you making?”

Shaking himself from his own confusion, David replied, “Just pork chops, nothing fancy.” Twisting, David gave Nick a quick peck on the cheek and then returned to making dinner, shelling peas with deft movements of his fingers.

“Time for me to take a shower before it's ready?” Nick asked.

“If you make it quick, it will only be about fifteen minutes.”

Nodding, Nick let go of David and headed back into the hallway, already beginning to strip of his suit. Since Nick worked in the office most days now, it usually fell to David to make dinner, not that he minded, Nick's infrequent forays into the culinary world pleased David, as Nick had turned out to be quite a good cook, but he lacked the enthusiasm to do so very often.

With the peas placed in a saucepan, David covered them with water and set the saucepan on the hob, turning on the flame beneath it, then he cleaned away the utensils he had used for preparation and laid the table. He was just attempting to decide if they would have a glass of wine with dinner tonight when an almighty crash echoed through the hallway from the direction of the lobby; the sound of shattering glass and buckling wood. David jumped, and a few seconds later a breathless Nick came running into the kitchen, wrapped in a towel.

“Dave, are you..?” Nick looked around in confusion. “I thought I heard something break.”

“It came from the lobby; must be the neighbour.”

“And you thought I was a menace when I moved in,” Nick laughed, heading back to the bathroom, leaving wet footprints in his wake. David shook his head and retrieved a bottle of white wine from the fridge; he set it on the table with two glasses.

From outside, there came a loud, boisterous voice. “Piffle, man,” it said. “Total rot!”

Shaking his head, David blocked it out by closing the kitchen door.

~*~*~

David twiddled the red, velvet-covered box in his hands absently. He flipped it open and stared at the contents, then snapped it shut again; God, how was he going to do this?

Yes, Nick had agreed to move in with him, but this... this was...

Get a grip, David, he told himself firmly, putting the box on the kitchen table and getting to his feet. Unable to keep himself from pacing, David strode several quick lines across the cold tiles of the kitchen, his mind racing. This was serious and he had to get it right, had to make the moment perfect because it would only happen this once and there would be no opportunity to correct any mistakes - and what if Nick said no?

Mind racing wildly, David barely registered the doorbell sounding, nor his movements as he made his way to the front door and pulled it open.

Boris was in the lobby, giving David a wide-eyed, pleading look.

“David, old chap, do you think I might trouble you for some sugar? I've just managed to tip the sugar bowl all about the kitchen.”

“Sure,” David replied, forgetting his usual manners, distracted by the numerous romantic ideas that were crowding his head. He walked back to the kitchen with Boris in pursuit, and opened the cupboard where he kept the sugar, taking out an unopened bag and turning.

Boris was holding the box that held the ring in his hand; it was open, and Boris was looking at it inquisitively.

“This is just marvellous, David,” Boris said. “Making an honest man of him at last, eh?”

David dropped the bag of sugar, bumbling unsteadily across the floor and practically snatching the box from Boris's hand. David frowned at his neighbour, feeling more than a little perturbed; now Boris knew, he might inadvertently mention it to Nick - and if Nick said yes, they would have to invite the clumsy oaf. Blast!

“Boris,” David began.

“Ah, not a word shall escape my lips, David,” Boris interrupted, tapping his nose with his finger twice, a gesture of secrecy. Boris picked up the fallen packet of sugar and headed for the door with a loud and hearty “Cheers for this”.

David ran an exasperated hand through his hair. He was dreadfully nervous, and it was nearing six o'clock; Nick would be home soon. How was he going to do this?

Working quickly, David set a line of candles from the front door to the living room and wrote in his flowing handwriting, a single word, on a sheet of ivory paper, placing it next to the candle nearest the entrance to their flat.

Follow.

Then, lighting candles as he went, David moved to the living room, and waited on bended knee.

“Dave?” Nick called from the hallway, his voice slightly high in pitch, edging on confusion. David bit his lip, willing his nervous trembles to stop, mentally preparing himself and reciting what he planned to say again.

Nick poked a curious head around the door frame, eyes wide. “David?”

Everything David planned to say suddenly fled as Nick stepped closer, David reached out his hand, grasping Nick's, and looking up.

“Nick,” David began, his voice shaking slightly. “Since I met you there hasn't been a day when I have not been happy. You're probably the most annoying person I've ever known, well, second, anyway, that's not the point...”

Nick sank to the carpet in front of David, resting there on his knees as David continued, “The point is that I can't imagine being without you and I love you, and if you'll have me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you. So, uh, what I'm trying to ask here is, Nick, will you marry me?”

The answering smile was like golden summer sunshine. “Ah, David, you know I will. Yes.”

The romantic moment was spoiled utterly by the fact that David, upon searching his pockets in a manner most frantic, realised that he'd forgotten the ring.

Oh dear.

~*~*~

The ceremony had been, David supposed, entirely proper, although he could not remember much except Nick looking absolutely stunning in his suit and the way Nick's eyes had sparkled; the unmovable grin on his face matched by David's own.

Now they were at the reception; they had posed for photographs with all and sundry (even Boris) and cut the cake, and now all the needlessly lengthy and pointlessly witty speeches were over, someone was on the stage calling for the happy couple to have their first dance. David was not really paying attention; he had found his hand entangled in Nick's beneath the table, Nick's finger running over the marriage band as he shot David shy, happy smiles.

When the other assembled guest joined the call for them to dance, David led Nick onto the polished, wooden floor; the music started.

“My love must be a kind of blind love. I can't see anyone but you. Are the stars out tonight? I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. I only have eyes for you, dear.”

“You're such a softy, David,” Nick commented against his cheek when they began their first dance, but David could tell Nick wasn't upset from the use of his proper name. David tightened his arms around Nick, letting himself forget everyone else around them. His mouth found Nick's, kissing him tenderly as the lyrics continued. Someone gave a wolf-whistle; Boris, David thought absently. It didn't matter right now; he was married. Married!

David let his body shuffle in an approximation of a proper dance, feet stepping ever so slowly as Nick moved with him. Their kiss ended; they practically stood still as they whispered words of love into one another’s ears, holding each other tightly in the middle of the now packed dance floor, just swaying together, oblivious to everyone around them.

George called for another toast; they did not notice. Boris fell face-first into the buffet table; they did not notice.

“Can we get out of here?” Nick whispered.

“Any time you like,” David answered.

“Now then, please.”

David did not reply; he simply expressed their farewells and led Nick out of the hall. It was what custom dictated and, happily, it would be for the rest of his life.

Finis