Make Me Feel All Right

A/N: This is meant to take place the day after my story "Promise Not to Try", and while you can read this without having read that, I imagine it will be more enjoyable if you have. This is actually only about half of the story; I cut it because the sex scene is probably too mature for this site; if you would like to read the entire thing, please follow the link to my livejournal: http:(double backslash)celeste9(dot)livejournal(dot)com/61730(dot)html You are welcome to reply either here or there. Becker is on medical leave after 4x4; his name is Hilary because apparently that's his actual name. And yes, that title is from The Beatles.

When James arrived home that evening, he wasn't sure if he should expect Becker to be there or not. Although he had implied before he'd left that morning that he wouldn't mind if Becker stayed, he didn't know if Becker would have taken him up on the offer. James wasn't proud of how much he wanted Becker to be waiting inside when he opened the door.

There was a light on as James stepped inside. "Honey, I'm home," he announced, setting down his keys and removing his jacket.

Becker was wiping his hands on a dish towel as he approached. "How was work, darling?" he asked, grinning.

In lieu of an answer, James tugged Becker closer by his belt loops, one hand cradling his hip and the other sliding into his hair. The towel dropped to the floor and Becker sighed into the kiss, clearly only too willing to follow James' lead.

Becker licked his lips as they parted and it took all of James' control not to kiss him again. "So you missed me, then?"

"Well, I did miss seeing your arse," James said with a squeeze to Becker's bottom. He didn't want to be dishonest, after all.

Becker stole one more lazy kiss and said, "There mustn't have been an anomaly alert or you wouldn't be in such a good mood."

"No, activity at the ARC was on the dull side today, a rare occurrence which is to be savored." He paused before admitting, "I didn't know whether you'd still be here when I got home."

"You looked so hopeful when you mentioned it this morning, James, that I didn't want to disappoint you."

"It would have been no great loss to me, I assure you. The only reason I offered was so you wouldn't feel too much like a cheap whore." James wrinkled his nose. "What is that? Are you cooking something?"

"Oh, bugger," Becker swore and ran in the direction of the kitchen, his gait awkward as he favored his injured leg.

"You probably shouldn't-" James started and then shook his head. There was no point; Becker wouldn't listen to him. Stubborn bastard.

"I hope it's not a problem," Becker yelled back as James followed at a more reasonable speed. "I raided your kitchen to make dinner."

"You can cook?" James asked, watching as Becker took a pot off the stove, dumping it into a colander in the sink.

"I'll have you know that I'm a fine cook," Becker said, giving the contents of a large sauté pan a quick stir before turning the heat down. "As long as it's not too complicated, at least. I'm brilliant at following recipes."

James found it difficult to suppress a smile while Becker was looking at him like that, his own smile wide and showing in his eyes. "Your mother must be so proud."

Becker took a piece of pasta out of the colander and popped it into his mouth as he went to pour the rest into the pan. "I hope you don't mind your pasta slightly mushy."

As a matter of fact, James did mind, but he thought it would be unkind to say so. "At least you don't make as much of a mess as Connor." Actually, there really wasn't any mess. A few bowls, a knife, and the cutting board lay drying in the rack, while the countertops were wiped clean.

"Sid and Nancy make less mess than Connor."

James conceded the point and then noticed something odd. "Is that my shirt?" He hadn't recognised it at first as it was one he never wore; it had been a present from his mother and she had overestimated the size. Even so, it still stretched too tight across Becker's chest and shoulders.

Becker ran a hand over James' shoulder as he opened the refrigerator to get out the cheese. "You don't mind, do you? Sid was chewing on mine."

Did he mind? James was embarrassingly turned on simply watching Becker move around the kitchen, making dinner and wearing James' clothes, and Becker bloody well knew it, too. "I'll buy you a new one. Better your cheap clothes than anything of mine."

"How sweet of you, James."

"Where are the little monsters, anyway?" James tried not to look put-out that they hadn't come to greet him as they usually did, but Becker's eyes were laughing in a way that made James think the other man knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Sleeping, the last I saw. I wouldn't worry about it; I think my presence was exciting enough that they wore themselves out." Becker balanced the serving bowl of pasta in one hand and two bowls in the other. "Would you get a couple of wine glasses for me? I opened a bottle of wine for the sauce, so we might as well drink the rest."

"You've made yourself quite at home, haven't you," James said as he got the glasses and followed Becker to the dining room. There was salad and bread already on the table and James couldn't hide his surprise. "You're going to make someone a fine wife one day, Becker."

Becker laughed and kissed the back of James' neck. "You should be so lucky."

The pasta was a bit over-done, but all in all, it wasn't half-bad. It was more than James had the energy for most days during the week, at any rate.

"Is it okay?" Becker asked. He sounded nervous.

"Yes, of course," James said. "Thank you for making the effort."

Becker shrugged. "I had to eat, too, didn't I? I thought this would be better than takeaway." He got that mischievous look in his eyes that James was becoming increasingly familiar with. "Besides, I need to keep my strength up if we're to have a repeat performance of last night."

James steadfastly kept the images those words produced from invading his mind. "A repeat performance? Becker, if you're not careful, you may find your medical leave completely revoked. I'm starting to think it's unnecessary."

Becker batted his eyelashes in a way that should have been ridiculous and not at all endearing. "But I'm clearly frail and need looking after. You're going to take care of me, aren't you, James?"

James had never thought himself a particularly nurturing person, nor had he ever expected Becker to be the sort of person to inspire protective urges, and yet James found himself wanting to 'take care of' Becker, as it were. He knew Becker's words were spoken in jest and that Becker did not, in fact, ever want to be looked after, but there it was. "Don't push your luck," was all he said.

They sat eating for a while in comfortable silence before Becker said, "I met Melinda earlier today. Lovely woman."

James nearly spat out his wine. Damn, he'd completely forgotten she had been coming in to clean the flat today. "I hope you'd managed to put some clothes on by the time she arrived."

Becker smirked. "Just my underwear."

James rolled his eyes.

"I gave her a start, but she warmed to me, I think. We had a nice conversation."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Melinda was so pleased to learn that we're together. She's rather fond of you, James, did you know that? She was concerned that you were lonely and working too hard. I was shocked when she told me how long-"

"All right, that's quite enough," James said with a wave of his hand. From now on, he was going to make every effort to never allow Becker in his flat when Melinda was in, especially not unsupervised. That bloody woman, she was too damned nosy for her own good, and who knew what sort of things Becker might say.

"Are you finished?" Becker asked, gesturing at James' empty bowl.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I am. We should clean up."

Becker stood up and then took James' hand in his, pulling him to his feet. "We can do it later. I think right now you should show me again just how happy you are that I'm here."

"But- the dishes-" James protested weakly as Becker pressed their bodies together.

Becker began carefully undoing James' tie, softly kissing the side of James' face. "They'll keep."

Yes, that was a brilliant suggestion, James decided. They had much more important matters to attend to.