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The David and James Story	By : Cinnamon Category: Casts RPF > Angel Views: 3767 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The David and James Story

Pairing: David/James

Rating: NC 17

Author: You think anyone’s actually gonna admit to writing this shit?

Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. You know who the characters belong to.

This is AU. The people involved would never behave like this in real life…

Chapter 34

The Friday after Thanksgiving

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They’d gone straight to David’s room which was at the far end of the house, above his mother’s studio. The door was ajar and David had ushered James in ahead of him and closed the door behind them, dropping their bags just inside the door.

“Well?” David said. “Does it meet with your approval?”

James looked all around him. The room was decorated in several shades of blue with silver highlights here and there - dark and medium blue soft furnishings and very pale blue - almost white - walls with navy woodwork. The room was enormous, almost as big as the whole of the apartment James had just moved out of.

“Could you imagine sleeping here?” David asked hesitantly.

James turned to face David and found him grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, I could imagine doing a lot more than that…” James said, returning the grin before moving to take a closer look at the room.

It was more of a studio apartment than a bedroom, carpeted throughout in silver grey - the pile so deep James imagined he wouldn’t be able to see his toes when walking barefoot across the room. A dresser stood beneath a window, framed by thick midnight blue velvet drapes. There was a desk complete with an old fashioned typewriter in one corner. A navy leather couch covered in silver and electric blue scatter cushions and a plasma screen TV were set into an alcove at one end of the room. A kingsize bed dominated the opposite end. The bed was unmade. A duvet encased in dark blue cotton edged in silver lay folded in half across the bed. The silver grey undersheet was rumpled, presumably just as David had left it earlier.

James couldn’t help but wonder how many of David’s former lovers had slept in that bed.

“Mom and Dad completely redecorated for me as a surprise for Thanksgiving…”

James turned his attention to the alcove. Bookshelves lined the walls. The ceiling of the alcove area was painted dark blue and dotted with stars - James smiled to himself as he wondered if they might glow in the dark. Photographs of David and trophies from his days on the college football team filled a shelf above the television.

“…The dresser and desk are really old - I guess they’re probably antique. They’ve been in my room since I was a kid… and the typewriter was my grandmother’s - she wrote her first novel on it. The couch, the cushions, the bed and all the linens are brand new. I think Mom wanted to make sure everything was clean and fresh for your visit…”

James entered the alcove and picked up one of the framed pictures. It showed David from his days as quarterback of the High School football team.

“How old are you in this picture?” James said.

“Eighteen, I think,” David replied. “Why do you ask?”

“You were gorgeous…” James purred.

“You mean I’m not now?” David pouted.

“Well, none of us are getting any younger, Luv,” James replied in his best British accent.

David laughed.

“It’s a line from next week’s script,” James explained. “Or, it might have been ‘none of us are getting any older’. Damned if I can remember now…”

“Come and see the bathroom,” David urged. “You’ll have to ignore the mess though…” he added. “I didn’t have time to clean up this morning. Mom was gonna do it after I’d gone.”

Two sets of slatted wooden doors were set into the wall on one side of the bed, presumably leading to a closet. James peered through the door beyond, which he discovered led into a fully tiled bathroom with a Jacuzzi-style tub and a walk-in shower. The fixtures and fittings were all pale grey with tilo mao match. Dark grey quarry tiles covered the floor. A mixture of cornflower blue and sapphire towels hung from rails next to the tub. A reproduction of Van Gogh’s Starry Night was set into the tiles on one wall and a painting by Miro which James recognised but couldn’t name on another. A sapphire blue bathsheet lay on the floor in a heap next to the shower. A still damp bathmat lay draped over the edge of the tub, a hand towel next to it.

James stood and admired the view as David bent to retrieve the discarded towels and stuffed them into one of the laundry hampers in the corner of the room.

“There’s underfloor heating so the tiles are always warm to the touch,” David said, “provided I remember to switch it on,” he added, reaching to flick a switch on the wall behind James.

They were suddenly standing very close… Merely inches apart… James found himself automatically moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue as he looked up into David’s eyes in expectation of a kiss.

David was bending his head toward him. James reached up andir mir mouths met.

The kiss was tender at first but rapidly intensified until they were consumed by passion and their desperate need for one another…

Maintaining the kiss David picked James up and carried him back into the bedroom, depositing him on the bed. Only then did their mouths separate momentarily as David struggled to push the duvet out of the way.

James felt David’s hands at his waist. They were unbuttoning his jeans.

“Wait, David…” James said between kisses. “We can’t… not here… your parents…”

“… won’t mind,” David finished for him. “Why do you think they’ve gone out, leaving us all alone in the house?”

“But they might come back…”

“No, they won’t, not until lunchtime… and, anyway, even if they do they won’t disturb us, Baby…” David said.

“But your sisters…”

“They wouldn’t dream of coming in here without an invitation…”

“Heck, you’re not trying to tell me they’re vampires, are you?” James asked. “I thought this family was too good to be true.”

David was smiling at him. James smiled too.

“Either that or I’m in Smallville and this is the Kent farmstead.”

David laughed.

“… I can lock the door if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, Lana.”

“Yeah thanks, Clark,” James said. “Hey, wait a minute. I don’t think they ever fucked - not in the comics anyway. Not sure I want you to be Superboy after all…”

“You might wanna reconsider,” David smirked.

“What did you have in mind?” James asked. “Hmm… Wouldn’t mind seeing those thighs in spandex…”

“Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Er… the door…”

David got up off the bed and went to lock the door.

“…and I really do need to take a shower first, “James said. “I must stink. I’ve been wearing these clothes since yesterday morning…”

David practically threw himself back onto the bed and James found himself enveloped in David’s arms again, his body responding as it always did to his lover’s touch.

“I don’t mind,” David began. “I just wanna touch you. I’ve missed you so much… It’s been three days since we did this…”

James felt a hand inside his pants and gasped as David’s cool fingers wrapped around his burning flesh.
ou mou might not mind but I do…” James said. “Please, Davy, let me take a shower first. I’ll be quick, I promise…”

“Okay,” David said, sitting up and pulling his own sweater over his head. “Want me to keep you company?”

“Next time,” James said, pulling his t-shirt off and sniffing it. “It’ll be quicker if I shower alone. Wait for me here?”

David nodded and stood to remove his own pants.

“Where can I put this? It’s kinda ripe,” James asked, holding up the offending t-shirt.

“Chuck it in the hamper - the one on the left. We’ll worry about the laundry later. I have much more interesting plans for this morning…”

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The David and James Story