R isn't exactly sure how he ended up on the ground on the side of the street, but if he had to guess he'd say it was the person adjacent to him who was also on the ground. R rubbed tenderly at his arm, kneading the sore muscle, and knowing a bruise was forming already. He cast a gaze over at his equally disheveled counterpart.

It was a man, perhaps just a little older than R, and he was tangled halfway around a bicycle. He was groaning slightly because he knocked his head when he hit the pavement, but there was no real damage. R staggers to his feet hastily, rushing over to the man with a cautious approach and hoping he was alright. R wasn't sure if it was his fault or not. It all happened so fast.

"I am so sorry," R gushes, helping the man to sit up. "That was completely my fault."

The first thing that registers in the man's mind is the fact that R is American, judging by his accent. He's awfully polite for an American as well. Jim doesn't mind the fact that he wrecked his bike, he just hopes he didn't hurt the other man and that the package he's delivering is okay.

"It's fine," the man says, rubbing at his head and wincing slightly as he searches blindly for his package. "I'm the one that should be saying sorry. I blind-sided you."

He looks up at R and their identical bright blue gazes lock for the briefest moment. R stares at him with wide eyes, mostly because he's worried about any bodily harm that might have incurred from their collision, but also because he's captivated by the brightness of the man's eyes. His hair is ruffled and there's a faint dusting of facial hair gracing his otherwise well-pronounced face and, oh, R must be dreaming.

Someone runs by them as if they're sprinting for their life and R has to watch for a moment, wondering what the person was spooked about. He's taken out of his musings when the man extends a hand towards R to greet him properly and R takes it meekly.

"I'm Jim," he introduces.

R looks back in the direction the person ran off in, noticing they had vanished from eye sight. He furrowed his brows, biting the inside of his cheek with worry. R doesn't know why but somehow he was spooked as well, if only for a moment. He turns his attention back to Jim.

Jim is still sitting on the ground as R kneels beside him, worrying over him like a parent would a child. They shake hands slowly, not wanting to let go as they search each other's eyes for a hint of a spark. R mentally shakes his head, switching gears.

"Well, let me help you up Jim," R chuckles nervously, breaking eye contact.

R jumps up to his feet, grabbing Jim's hand and pulling him free from his bicycle frame. Jim stumbles slightly as he regains his strength and braces a hand against one of R's shoulders briefly. They stand like this for a moment, pressed in close together until Jim can stand on his own. R lets go of Jim and helps the man bend over to collect his bike and package.

They straighten back up and Jim is hooked at the sight of the young man. He doesn't know what it is, but Jim is taken aback by R, clutching his delivery tightly to his chest out of reflex. Jim watches as R casually dusts himself off, going so far as to fuss with his hair. R catches Jim staring and blushes a little.

"Uh listen, I'm really sorry and I'd like to make it up to you," Jim starts to say and the inclination makes R's heart flutter. "Maybe I could take you out for a pint?"

"You don't have to do that," R says dimly, kicking himself the moment it comes out of his mouth. He'd be crazy to say no.

"Really, it's no trouble at all," Jim insists, praying to the heavens that R will reconsider. "There's a pub just around the corner. Drinks in about a half hour?"

"Sure, okay," R nods, smiling vaguely because his nerves are still rattled from being knocked down and because of Jim. "I'll see you in thirty minutes."

Jim smiles with promise, pausing only to give his bike a once over before securing his delivery on the back of his bike and getting himself situated again. Jim winks at him one last time before riding off, leaving R to stand there waving goodbye in his wake. R is still smiling like an idiot before he can bring himself to coherent thought.

He eventually finds his way to the pub Jim had mentioned as sits down in one of the booths. R orders himself a drink so he doesn't look like a complete loser as he waits for Jim to show up. Maybe R clutches his mug a little tighter than he'd admit but waiting for a guy that he just met, who may or may not show up, makes R queasy.

R wasn't one for hooking with random strangers but he figures he might as well try and have a little fun. It was R's last night in London before he went back to America and most of his time here was spent sightseeing, which wasn't the least bit boring, in fact he enjoyed walking around London and getting lost, but R wanted one more memorable experience.

R vaguely thinks of the person he saw running away not long ago, feeling a creeping sense of uncertainty. R shakes his head, taking a swig from his drink and worrying about Jim instead. He isn't sure how long he's been waiting but it couldn't be that long, even if it felt like it. Jim wouldn't stand him up like that, at least R hoped not. Why would Jim go through the trouble of offering to buy him a drink if he was only going to ditch him? Jim would show. R was sure of it.

There was a light tap to R's shoulder and, speak of the devil, he was greeted by the sight of Jim's charming smile. R's face lit up as Jim took the opposite side of the booth, motioning to the bartender for a drink. Jim took off his sweater, prompting R to follow suit by ridding himself of his old red hoodie. It had been a little nippy outside, especially with the sun beginning to set, but it was plenty warm inside.

"I see you started without me," Jim points out with a short chuckle, acknowledging R's half empty mug.

"You can always buy the next one," R tells him with a wink.

The bartender comes around and sets Jim's drink down in front of him with a hushed thud where glass and wood meet. Jim raises his mug and says cheers before downing half of his glass to catch up with R. He sets it down to see R staring at him with a mildly amused smirk.

"I feel embarrassed for asking, but I didn't get your name earlier," Jim says after he catches his breath.

"I didn't give it," R simply replies, smirking even more. He trails his fingers through the condensation almost gingerly, bordering on seductive. "Tell you what, if you can guess my name correctly by the end of the night, I'll take you into the bathroom and let you fuck me."

"Excuse me?" Jim asks flabberghasted, feeling his face heat up slightly.

R's composure doesn't falter in the slightest, letting Jim know just how serious his proposition truly is. Jim swallows at the very thought, making his adam's apple bob. R has never really lived and the actual chance of hooking up with Jim in a bathroom fuels him further into his endorphin filled spontaneity.

"My name begins with 'R'. Start guessing," he informs, taking a drink of his beer nonchalantly. He changes gears and goes on with normal conversation by asking, "So, I take it you're a courier?"

"Uh... Yes, I am," Jim says slowly, throat suddenly feeling dry. R could be playing a joke on him but Jim feels compelled to at least try and guess R's name. "Robert?"

R smirks but shakes his head, grateful that Jim is on board with his little game.

"What is it that you do?" Jim asks instead, pausing to drink out of his mug.

"I'm currently unemployed, actually. It's quite embarrassing, but I'll be going back to college soon."

"Smart move. Riley?" Jim comments distantly, striking out again when R disregards the name. "How do you manage that without a job?"

"I got in by scholarship and my parents fill in for the rest," R admits, feeling almost ashamed by the fact. It only serves to make him looks even more adorable by Jim's standards. "I've been saving up for this trip on my own, though."

"Oh, so you're not from around here, Russell?" Jim inquires with a mild hint of humor, slipping in a name to see if it fits, but it doesn't.

"What gave it away?" R jokes back, playing along. "It was my American accent, wasn't it?"

"No, actually. It was your use of the word college," Jim clarifies wittily, making R roll his eyes incredulously. "We say university over here. Roy?"

"Nope."

"Roger?"

"Try again."

"Reggie, Robin, Reece, Richard, Ronald..." Jim rattles off, but all names crash and burn.

"You keep striking out like that and we'll be here all night," R teases, downing the rest of his beer and pushing his mug towards Jim. "You can buy me that drink now."

Jim consumes the rest of his pint as well, letting the somewhat bitter liquid slide it's way smoothly down his throat. He motions for two more glasses. One pint is not nearly enough to make Jim's head swim but coupled with R's presence, Jim might as well be drunk.

"You don't sound like you're from England yourself," R observes after a moment, nudging Jim's foot with his under the table.

R squints his eyes at Jim slightly as if he's trying to find the answer right through him. R gulps down his drink, making a show of it by stretching his neck languidly as his throat works the liquid down inside him and Jim drinks the sight of him in. Jim needs to figure out his name, and fast. It kills Jim not being able to figure it out.

"Ireland?" R discerns, pushing his empty mug aside.

"Very good," Jim praises with an impressed smirk. He finishes his pint and orders two more. "Ralph?"

R grins slightly at this name and Jim thinks he's guessed right, but R doesn't seem to regard it in any other way aside from that. Jim has come to the conclusion that R is playing a joke on him for some odd reason, but he isn't entirely disheartened by this. It was a fun game while it lasted and at least Jim was able to talk to him a little.

"Randy?" Jim asks, trying one final time. R bites his lip and shakes his head, making Jim slump his shoulders in defeat. "I give up..."

"You've been a pretty good sport so far and I'm feeling a little inclined to repay you for the drinks and keeping me company on my last night in London," R begins to say, conceding because he's tortured Jim long enough. "How about we forget the whole name game and take a little bathroom break?"

"You were serious?" Jim asks, feeling his pulse quicken with the sudden promise of sex.

"Weren't you when you tried to guess my name?" R quips, taking one final drink.

R slides out of the booth, leaving his hoodie behind just for the moment, and heading off towards the bathroom. When he reaches the door, R spares a cocky glance over his shoulder, finding that Jim is watching him intently, before slipping in past the door. Jim remains sitting there for another minute or maybe two, waiting to see if R comes back out but he doesn't.

It's safe to say that that's the only incentive Jim needs. Jim more or less makes it a struggle to get out of the booth seat and casually march off towards the bathroom. His hands are shaking so hard because he's so excited. Jim silently hopes that this isn't another joke at his expense, but when he reaches the bathroom he knows it's not.

Jim locks the bathroom door behind him and turns around to see R poised up on one of the sinks with his hand down between his legs, working diligently to prepare himself. R is stripped bare from the waist down and his eyes are closed but they flutter open when he hears Jim's arrival. He squirms a little, watching Jim watch him finger himself thoroughly.

"The view is much better from over here," R jests, pulling his hand out from between his legs.

"You're mad for doing that with the door practically wide open," Jim berates lightly, walking up towards R. "Anyone could've walked in."

"Jealous?"

"Shut up..."

"Make me," R challenges with originality, adjusting himself on the edge of the sink.

Jim sidles up to R who spreads his legs wider in invitation. The porcelain of the sink doesn't feel too great against his skin and it's so cold that it nearly numbs his ass. R reaches between them to undo Jim's pants, steadying his hands long enough to pop open the button and pull the zipper down. R slips a hand inside Jim's underwear, feeling just how ready he is.

R helps to push down Jim's pants, along with his underwear, and bites his lip when the other man is bared to him. R strokes him languidly, not really trying to tease but more or less getting a feel for what's to come. He shifts on the sink once again, wincing slightly, going so far as to slide off of the uncomfortable porcelain altogether.

He turns around, bracing his hands on either side of the sink and leaning forward slightly until his forearms and elbows rest on the cold rim. R spreads his legs and sticks his butt out, brushing it against Jim's hard on, mostly by accident.

"I guess you'll just have to fuck me like this then," R says, looking at Jim's reflection through the mirror.

R hands Jim a condom over his shoulder before the other man even has the chance to ask for one. Of course R came prepared, he always had one on him, not because he was promiscuous but just in case. Better to be safe than sorry, no matter how charming the guy was. Jim takes it without question, relieved that R had one or else this would have been cut rather short.

Jim wastes no time in opening the foil packet and sliding the prophylactic down the length of his aroused manhood. He places a hand on one of R's hips and uses the other one to grip the base of his cock, lining it up with R's entrance before gliding in smoothly. R makes a small noise that's somewhere between a moan and a wince and pushes back against Jim's groin.

He pulls out and slides back in when R has accommodated his cock thoroughly, thrusting lightly into the young man's welcoming body. Jim wonders faintly what R used to prepare himself but it certainly did the trick in allowing easy entry. Jim brought his other hand up and rested it on R's left shoulder, pulling him back on each thrust in to amplify the impact into his prostate.

R is moaning a little loudly, maybe enough to warrant attention from anyone who might be listening. Jim wants to silence R and keep him quiet, but it doesn't matter because the door is locked anyway. So Jim fucks the sounds out of R as they tumble out haphazardly and fall into the sink. R hangs his head down and holds onto the sink tighter as Jim thrusts more purposely.

Suddenly, there's a knock to the bathroom door and Jim stills instantly while R stifles his moans of pleasure, holding their breath. The doorknob jiggles as if someone is trying to get in and a muffled compliant is said through the door, but they ignore it. Jim picks up where he left off, fucking R into the sink while the latter tries to keep quiet.

There's a pounding on the door but it falls redundantly on deaf ears. R raises his head up to the mirror and makes eye contact with Jim, gasping and panting as quietly as he can manage. Jim leans in close to R's ear and shushes him, nipping the lobe tenderly as his cock glides within R's tight channel.

Soon, the pounding on the door and muffled curses eventually stop and R is free to moan as loudly as he wants once again. R rides out Jim's thrusting, humping back against Jim's cock every chance he gets. The tip of Jim's cock nudges his prostate, sending impulses throughout his body that makes his legs weak.

R reaches a hand down and starts to stroke himself to the cadence of each jagged thrust, coming hard and spurting his release all over the dirty porcelain rim as it wracks his body in pleasurable waves. His mouth is hung open in a perpetual "O" shape and he moans to his and Jim's reflection wantonly, panting from exertion.

Jim pulls on the material of R's shirt a little, trying to ground himself to Earth as his cock twitches and spills into the condom separating him from R. Each tremors of his cock seems to marginally stretch the tight confines of R's tense and quivering hole. And to think, all of this happened because Jim was careless.

"So, what's your name anyway?" Jim asks after they clean up and put their pants back on.

R walks up to Jim, who stands by a sink as he washes his hands, and cups a hand over his ear to whisper it like a secret. Jim's eyes widen slightly, mouth agape when he turns to look at R.

"I said that one earlier," Jim points out, feeling cheated but not entirely since he did get lucky.

"I know. Why do you think I smiled?" R acknowledges, grinning mischievously. He leans into Jim for a kiss, realizing that this will be their first and only kiss. "Thanks for showing a tourist a good time."

R grabs some paper towels and wipes off his hands and heads towards the bathroom door, unlocking it. Jim turns around with an almost put out expression.

"Where are you going?" Jim protests, frowning a little even though he knew what this was from the beginning.

"I have a plane to catch in the morning," R tells him, giving him one last smile before departing.

If only they knew how ironic a plane and a bike would ultimately mirror their fates.