A/N: Next part of my L/B Promise 'verse. Contains a bit of licking cake icing off of skin, if that squicks you.

Show Me

"This is where you're taking me?" Becker said as he walked around the side of the car, Lester's eyes on him.

"Is it all right? I know it's a bit rustic, but I thought…"

Becker kissed away the doubt on his face. "It's perfect."

Looking rather flustered, Lester drew away and opened the boot to get their luggage.

In lieu of helping, Becker took another look at the cottage where he and Lester were spending the weekend. It was a cosy-looking two-storey stone building, tucked into a grove of trees with flowers planted all along the front of it.

"It belongs to Agatha," Lester explained. "She said we could use it. My parents left me a place when they died, but I sold it. It didn't make sense at the time to keep both, but I have regretted it since the divorce."

"Maybe that could be something for us to look into," Becker suggested without really thinking about it. "Somewhere for us to holiday in."

Lester was staring at him and Becker squirmed in discomfort. "Just a thought," he muttered. "Probably stupid." What the hell was he doing? Hey, let's buy a house together, because that's not a big deal at all. Becker wanted to kick himself.

"No, I'd like that," Lester said finally, his gaze focused on his suitcase.

Becker blinked in surprise. Really? But honestly, it was an idea Becker could easily become enamoured of. He would love to have a place to go to with Lester, somewhere they could get out of London and be alone together.

"It might be your birthday, but I'm not carrying your bag and mine."

Jolted out of his reverie, Becker grinned at Lester. "Of course I'd never expect you to, honeybun. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

Lester roughly shoved Becker's duffel bag at his chest and marched off to the front of the cottage, leaving Becker to follow.

Aw, Becker thought, how sweet. Lester hadn't even called him a name - he really was trying to be nice for Becker's birthday.

Becker took the two bags of groceries Lester had left in the boot and then headed off down the path. Lester had already gone through the door, leaving it hanging open for Becker.

The cottage was beautiful inside, big, open rooms with stone floors and lots of windows to let in natural light. The fireplace immediately made Becker want to come back in the winter, his imagination running wild, though he regretfully forced himself to remember that it was Agatha's cottage and he should be grateful she'd let them stay in it even this once.

After depositing the groceries in the kitchen, Becker went upstairs to meet Lester in the bedroom (the bedroom with an absolutely fabulous bed, he noticed right away).

His lover was in the process of unpacking, because even though they were only there for the weekend, Lester could never allow his clothes to stay crammed in a suitcase. "I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but I've been holding onto these." Lester took two wrapped packages out of his suitcase. "I've got some gifts for you from my children."

"You do? Seriously? Your kids bought me gifts?"

"I haven't the faintest idea why that should come as a surprise to you. This one's from all of them, but this one's just from Henry," Lester said as he handed the smaller package to Becker.

Becker raised an eyebrow. "From Henry? Really?" He had no idea what to expect. He tore the paper off and felt a smile spread across his face. It was a bottle of hair gel. "Nice," he said, laughing. It was a pleasant change of pace for Henry's sense of humour to be good-natured, for once.

"I'm so relieved I changed my mind at the last minute. It would have been terribly embarrassing if I'd given you the same gift as Henry."

"Well, I certainly would have used it," Becker said as he started on the other present. "But I suppose I'll make do with the holiday."

The second package was a photo album and when Becker opened it, he realised that the children had filled the first several pages with pictures. He recognised some of them from Christmas but there were also quite a few he had no memory of. The children (mostly Julia, Becker guessed) had been busy, it seemed, snapping pictures when Becker and Lester weren't paying attention. Mostly of the two of them (there was a particularly embarrassing one in which someone had caught them dozing together on the couch), but the kids appeared in several as well.

Tucked into the back was a letter, handwritten by Julia. It read:

Becker,

Happy birthday! We hope that you have a good weekend with Dad and that you enjoy our gift. We weren't sure what you would like, but then I thought that you don't seem like the kind of person (and I know Dad certainly isn't) who takes a lot of pictures, but you might want to have some anyway. Mum contributed most of the Christmas photos and we left most of the album blank because, well, we didn't have enough time, for one, but mostly because we hope that you'll be around for a long time so that we can fill it up. (We really mean that, even Henry.)

And not to get too soppy, but we just want you to know that even when we didn't treat you as well as we should have, you were always good to us, and patient, and that means a lot. Dad is happier with you than we can remember him being in a long time and you make him laugh, so thank you for that.

It was signed by all three stared down at the piece of paper long after he had finished reading, a strange sense of pressure behind his eyelids and a warm, grateful, sentimental feeling in his chest.

"What does it say?" Lester prompted, voice dripping with curiosity.

Becker slammed the album closed on the letter. "Nothing, just… just happy birthday, and… that they hope we have a nice weekend."

Lester clearly didn't buy it but he didn't push. "It was a nice gesture. I'm sure it must have been Julia's idea." He sounded proud.

"Really nice. Thank them for me, will you?"

"Thank them yourself," Lester said, pushing his mobile into Becker's hand. "Julia's number four on the speed dial."

So Becker pushed four and held the phone to his ear. He got Julia's voice mail, which threw him a little. "Julia, it's Becker. I wanted to thank you and your brothers for the gift, it was really nice of you. And tell Henry that I'll be sure to get a lot of use out of his. Also I… um, thanks for what you wrote, I… it means a lot, so thank you, and, uh, have a great weekend. Okay, bye." He was sure he was blushing when he hung up.

Lester kissed him. "You're ridiculous, Hils."

"Quiet, you," Becker said and stole a second kiss as Lester tried to pull back. "What are your thoughts on dinner? Because I'm starving."

"Come on then," Lester said and tugged at Becker's belt loops. "I'll make you something."

"You're a prince," Becker told him. He pretty much meant it, too.

Becker was letting himself back into the cottage early the next morning when his mobile started ringing in his pocket. He dropped the keys, cursed, kicked the door shut and then fumbled to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Happy birthday, big brother!"

Retrieving the keys, Becker smiled and said, "Thanks, Lils."

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, I just finished my run."

Lily sounded appalled. "What? Hils, it's your birthday! You should be letting your boyfriend shag you silly, not exercising."

"Don't worry," Becker reassured her, taking the stairs two at a time. "He did that twice last night."

There was a clattering noise in the background as if she had dropped something. "I really didn't need the details, but thanks very much for the reassurance."

"Any time. Hey, I'm going to see if I can get him to wake up, so I'll let you go."

"I appreciate you mostly keeping your plans to yourself that time at least."

"That was nice of me, wasn't it?" Becker said as he entered the bedroom and sat down next to Lester, resting his hand on Lester's bare shoulder.

"Mark says happy birthday, too. Have a good weekend, okay?"

"I'm sure I will. Bye, Lily."

Becker set the phone aside and bent down to kiss Lester's cheek. "Time to get up, sweetie."

Lester turned over and blinked sleepily up into Becker's face. "Happy birthday, love."

"You know how you can make it a very happy birthday for me?"

"Refrain from mentioning how completely awful you smell right now?"

"Make a start on my cake."

"Goodness. I'm impressed, Hils. I was expecting you to ask me for sexual favours."

"Well, I actually meant that you could make a start on my cake after you bring me off in the shower, but I didn't want to come across as too greedy," Becker said and Lester just laughed.

Lester had decided that instead of purchasing a cake, he wanted to be ambitious and bake one himself. Becker had no objections as he always found the sight of Lester cooking incredibly hot. He perched on the worktop (again, birthday perk - whether it was his own place or not, Lester would never have stood by and let Becker sit on the worktop any other day of the year) and watched Lester, displaying enough restraint that Lester only had to smack him twice for sticking his fingers into the mixture.

While Lester put the cake tins in the oven, Becker stole the spatula and proceeded to lick off the mixture as suggestively as he could until Lester grabbed his hips and Becker pretty much fell off the worktop and into him. He accidentally allowed the spatula to hit the side of Lester's face before he dropped it so he was obliged to lick the smear of mixture off Lester's cheek.

Lester pressed him back against the counter and they traded kisses for several long, enjoyable moments before Lester's fussiness would no longer allow him to ignore the washing up.

Becker watched Lester finish wiping down the surface and observed, "This place is probably going to be cleaner after we leave than it was when we got here. Agatha should thank us."

"Considering the sort of messes we've made already, it's only fair to tidy up to the point of excessiveness."

Remembering what they'd got up to last night before bed (and once more this morning), Becker said, "You're probably right."

"As always."

It took about another ten minutes before Lester took the tins out of the oven. He set them on wire racks on the surface and said, "They're having a fair in the village today. It isn't far; we could stop by while the cake is cooling, if you want."

"Sounds fun," Becker agreed, so they set off once the cake layers were out of the tins.

It was actually a pretty nice day out, warm with a gentle breeze and the sun was shining, at least for the time being. They moved slowly through the crowd, browsing the stalls and watching the kids running about. It still felt a little strange, being out and doing normal things that normal couples did.

But normal wasn't so bad.

They strolled past the duck shoot and Becker made no attempt to hide how much he wanted to have a go at it.

Lester squeezed his hip. "Go on. I know you want to show off."

Becker grinned and handed over his money, getting an air rifle in exchange. He took careful aim, fired, and… "I missed?" he said in complete disgust. "The damn thing's off!" He nearly threw the stupid gun down.

Lester was laughing. "The aim on these things is always off, love," he said while the game's operator gave him a dirty look.

As if Becker would let that stop him. He flashed the guy a glare and aimed again, making an adjustment, and then successfully shot the rest of the ducks. He gave the rifle back and held his hand out triumphantly for his prize.

He presented Lester with the big fluffy bunny. "My hero," Lester drawled, a smile tugging at his mouth. He rested the bunny on his hip like it was a child. "Of course the only suitable name for him is Hilary."

Becker rolled his eyes. "I suppose I should have expected that." They resumed walking and Becker teased, "It's your turn now, James. Don't you want to win me a prize?"

"Not really, no."

"You don't fancy having a go at ringing the bell? Or perhaps whack-a-mole?"

"Put any sort of hammer or bat in my hands and I'm likely to whack you with it, precious," Lester said with phony, simpering sweetness.

Becker couldn't resist leaning in to drop a kiss into his hair. "Oh, darling, you do know how to sweet-talk a guy."

They bought a couple of beers and sat down for a while to watch the judging of the small dogs. "I always wanted a dog," Becker said. "My father wasn't much of a pet person and Mum's allergic."

Lester glanced sideways at him. "Don't even think about it. I'm not getting you a dog."

Becker used the angle of his body to hide where he put his hand. "Not even if I beg?"

There was a small hitch in Lester's breathing and then he pushed Becker's hand away. "No. You'll have to make do with George," he said, alluding to the dog he had bought his son David for Christmas last year.

"But I hardly even get to see George," Becker said with a pout.

"It's lucky you've got Sid and Nancy, then."

"Sid and Nancy aren't fluffy," Becker said, still feigning a sulk.

"Doesn't stop them from cuddling."

Becker laughed. "That's true enough." His mobile started to ring again so he pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello, Mum."

"Happy birthday! I do hope I'm not interrupting anything, dear," she drawled in a tone that suggested the opposite.

His family was so predictable. "I certainly wouldn't be answering a call from my mother if I were so occupied."

"I suppose you wouldn't. What's James done for you?"

"He's brought me to a cottage in the country for the weekend."

"How romantic."

"Oh, yes, exceedingly romantic. At the moment we're watching a dog get its balls squeezed." The judge was hardcore.

His mother laughed. "Lovely. Had any luck convincing James to get a dog for you?"

Apparently Becker was predictable, too. "Sadly, no, though he has reminded me that he lets me keep dinosaurs instead, so that's got to count for something." Of course, Lester kept the diictodons more for his own benefit than Becker's, but Becker was nice enough not to point that out. Usually. "Well, thanks for calling, Mum, talk to you later."

"Not so fast! You give the phone to James, I want to talk to him."

"No, thank you, that's okay," Becker started to say, hoping Lester wouldn't catch on, but unfortunately he knew Becker - and his mother - too well.

Lester stole the phone from Becker's hand. "Hello, Aida, it's so lovely to have a chance to speak with you."

Becker shamelessly listened in on Lester's half of the conversation in an attempt to determine what they were talking about, but about all he managed to get was that it was probably about him and they both thought they were exceedingly clever.

Business as usual, then.

When Lester hung up, he handed the mobile back to Becker and didn't say anything. Becker was able to control himself for about thirty seconds before he had to say, "What did she want?"

"Really, Hils, as if I would share our private conversation." Lester finished his beer with one long swallow and got to his feet, leaving Becker to follow.

There was a horse show going on that caught Becker's attention, bringing back memories of watching his baby sister win ribbons. He told Lester, "We all learned to ride as children but Maria really got into it. She was good; won some competitions. It was something for her to concentrate on after our father died."

"Does she still do it?"

"She still rides sometimes, but she stopped competing when she started at uni."

"What about you?"

"Me? Oh, I haven't ridden in ages." Becker had always liked it, though. He'd loved the sense of freedom he got from being on a horse.

"Perhaps we could go sometime."

"Really? You would want to?"

Lester shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Maybe we could take David. Would that be something he'd be interested in?"

Lester looked taken aback, pleased in that surprised way he got whenever Becker initiated contact with his children, as if he still couldn't quite believe Becker actually wanted to spend time with them. "David would love that," he said eventually.

Becker slid his arm around Lester's waist and squeezed. There was something incredibly freeing about being able to walk along openly like this, not caring who saw them. It had taken a long time for Becker to feel like he wasn't something Lester was ashamed of and he did still occasionally have his doubts (their recent trip to America standing out in that regard), so moments like this were to be treasured.

God. Why was he such a huge girl? Maybe he could go and ring the bell with the hammer.

When they returned to the cottage, Lester retrieved the stand mixer and started making the icing for the cake. Becker leaned against the worktop, content to watch. He didn't know why the sight of Lester measuring icing sugar and vanilla extract turned him on this much, but it did.

Sometimes Becker was surprised by how much he still wanted Lester, even after all this time. He'd never been with anyone so long, only Russ back at Sandhurst even coming close, and he hardly counted. They'd never been serious, more like friends who happened to have sex. Lester was different and Becker supposed that was the answer to everything. He was different and Becker couldn't imagine wanting anyone else.

Lester dipped his finger into the icing and then held it up to Becker. "Want to try it first?" he offered.

"Oh, like you even need to ask," Becker said and happily sucked Lester's finger into his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure. "That's amazing."

Lester pulled his hand back and averted his eyes quickly, as if he thought Becker might not have noticed the way he was staring. "Great, I'll... Just let me get started on icing the cake, then."

"Or we could put the icing to other, better uses."

"Hils, I'm not certain as to how you've eaten cakes in the past, but generally the purpose of the icing is to go on the cake."

"I'd rather lick it off you."

Lester's eyes widened but his breathing also quickened a tiny bit. "That's really quite unsanitary. Dirty and sticky and... and disgusting, actually."

Considering the places Lester stuck his tongue and the sort of things he licked off Becker's skin all the time, that protest was rather weak. "We can have a shower after. Or, even better, a bath," Becker said, feeling as if a light bulb had gone off above his head. "The tub's big enough we can both fit."

Lester seemed torn, looking between Becker and the cake, and then he said, "After I've gone to so much trouble it would be a waste not to even ice the cake. Perhaps we can compromise- you can have whatever's left when I'm done to do with as you please."

"Deal struck," Becker agreed, even though he knew better than to expect Lester to save very much. He knew plenty of ways to have fun, icing or not.

So Becker watched Lester spread a thin layer of icing over the cake, which he then put in the fridge to set for a short while. It seemed like an awful lot of work for a cake that no one was going to see but them, but Lester was adamant about doing it 'properly'. After he pulled the cake back out of the fridge, he meticulously smoothed on the second layer, with absolutely no crumbs poking through, before arranging some berries carefully on top.

Becker looked at the finished cake in admiration. "It almost seems a shame to eat it."

"Would you like me to sing to you before I cut it?"

"Did you bring your guitar, too?"

Lester flushed. "I'll just cut it." He sliced a large wedge and transferred it to a plate, getting two forks out of the drawer.

Becker ate a bite and savoured it. "Oh, sweetheart, you're going to have to bake for me more often. That's possibly the best cake I've ever had in my life, and Lily's not too shabby a baker."

"It was nothing," Lester said, but he was beaming in pleasure.

They polished off the piece of cake between them, Becker scraping up every last crumb with his fingers and licking them when he was done.

Lester swallowed and said, a bit thickly, "It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to eat something real. We've had nothing but beer and cake since breakfast."

"I refuse to be distracted by something so mundane as food when there is birthday sex to be had. We had a deal, remember?"

"Yes, pet, I may be getting older but I can actually remember conversations we had half an hour ago."

"Touchy," Becker said and nuzzled Lester's earlobe. "Sex now and you can make me something fancy for dinner. I'm going to make you beg for it, sweetie."

"Shouldn't I be the one driving you mad? Seeing as it's your birthday?"

"But you're my present, aren't you? I want my fun with you." Becker kissed Lester until he was backed up against the fridge, pressed to Becker like he wanted to climb inside. Becker was pretty sure that if he moved away right now Lester would simply slide down the fridge and land on his arse.

He was tempted to do it for the entertainment value but couldn't quite manage to pull away from the lure of Lester's body against his. He did, however, manage to reach for the bowl of icing on the surface, running his finger along the side.

Becker held his finger up to Lester's lips and tried not to come in his trousers when Lester sucked his finger into his mouth. "Christ," he muttered. "There's hardly any of it left, you know. Barely enough to be worth it."

"Oops," Lester said, canting his hips up against Becker.

"Oh," Becker said, trying for intelligent speech but degenerating into a moan. He kissed Lester again, tasting the sweetness on his tongue. "Right, bed now, yes?" He could use words that were more than one syllable, really he could.

"Yes." Lester's hand had slipped into the back of Becker's jeans, fingers spreading promisingly against the swell of his arse.

Becker grabbed the bowl and tugged Lester into motion. They stumbled through the cottage, up the stairs to the bedroom, as Becker tried not to let go of Lester, not to trip, and not to drop the bowl. He perched the bowl rather precariously on the bedside table and then they fell onto the bed, jostling for who got to be on top.

Eventually Becker won, catching Lester's wrists and holding them to the bed above his head. Lester bucked his hips a couple of times in an attempt to throw Becker off, but all that did was create a rather wonderful bit of friction.

"You're my present, remember?" Becker teased and dragged his mouth over Lester's skin, letting go of Lester's wrists so he could make better use of his hands.

With his own hands free, Lester caressed Becker's back and rucked his shirt up until Becker drew back enough to get rid of it, helping Lester out of his while he was at it.

Becker swiped his finger into the bowl of icing, dragging it along Lester's chest and then following it with his tongue. For all his earlier protesting, Lester was making some highly gratifying noises and roughly clenching his hands in Becker's hair. It was really too bad there wasn't more left. Becker sucked a line of kisses down Lester's stomach and thought about what he wanted to do first.

Of course, that was when his phone went off, ringing loudly and insistently. Becker blew out a frustrated breath and considered ignoring it, but he lunged for the phone, cursing all his bloody family members and so-called friends. As soon as he hung up, it was getting turned off.

"Thanks ever so for the call," Becker said, resettling himself over Lester's thighs, "but God damn it, I'm trying to get shagged by my boyfriend, so let's chat later, okay?"

"Darling, I know we're close, but that's a bit too much information for my tastes."

Becker flushed bright red and closed his eyes in mortification. "Er, hello, Agatha."

She laughed. "Happy birthday, Hilary. I trust James is showing you a good time?"

"Well, I think he might try to kill me now, actually."

"Ask him to please not get any blood on the carpet, will you? It's such a bother to get that out."

Becker observed the death grip Lester had on the pillow and said, "I don't think you'll need to worry about that. He looks more likely to try smothering me."

"Oh, good. I'll let you get on with it, then."

"I'm very sorry about this. I thought you were one of my sisters, or maybe someone from the ARC." It still would have been too much information, but Becker would have felt completely justified and unembarrassed about it.

"Don't fret about it, darling. If I couldn't laugh about my ex-husband sleeping with another man, I'd be leading quite a sad life."

Becker couldn't help but return her laughter, in spite of the distinctly unimpressed look Lester was giving him. "Bye, Agatha," he said and hung up. He did his best to appear meek and apologetic. "No harm done, right, James?"

Lester's grip didn't loosen. "No, I'm perfectly content to discuss my sex life with my ex."

"Well, technically it was me doing the discussing and we didn't really…" Becker trailed into silence, cowed by Lester's expression. "Remember how it's my birthday? And you want me to have an amazing day because of how much you love and adore me?"

Lester smacked Becker's thigh but his features were melting back into exasperation mixed with affection. "Perhaps you'd best do something to remind me of exactly why I love and adore you."

Becker rolled off the side of the bed and onto his feet, pulling Lester up. "Then I think it's time we try out that enormous bathtub."

By the time they emerged from the bathroom, Becker had worked up quite an appetite, though he collapsed onto the bed first, watching Lester get dressed through partially closed eyes. "I wouldn't mind if you made me dinner while you were naked, sweetheart."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Lester said, the slight curve of his mouth giving away his amusement.

Becker held his hand out and Lester took it, letting Becker pull him on top of him. Becker stroked his fingers at the nape of Lester's neck. "What are you making me?"

"You'll see, baby." Lester looked pointedly at him.

Becker chewed his lip, not sure if he wanted to wince or laugh. He had been waiting for Lester to call him out on that particular slip of the tongue.

Really, he didn't think he could be blamed for what he said when he was anywhere near Lester's cock. "You noticed that, did you?"

"I thought we had agreed 'baby' was off-limits."

"Actually, I never agreed to anything. I think you'll find it was you who said you'd never call me that. And really, with all the awful names you use for me, I think I'm entitled to a few embarrassing ones for you."

"As opposed to non-embarrassing pet names?" Lester asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"All right, point taken," Becker said and rolled them over until he was straddling Lester, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to Lester's mouth. "Can I ask you, though, because I've been wondering. Didn't your parents ever call you anything?"

"Generally one's parents do refer to one by name, yes."

Becker rolled his eyes. "You know perfectly well what I meant. Did you have a nickname? Or were you always the terribly serious James?"

"I'm afraid I don't like where this is heading."

"I promise I won't use it against you."

Lester seemed to be weighing his options but he finally gave in. "Jamie. When I was very little, my mother called me Jamie."

"Jamie? That's so adorable." Becker kissed Lester again because he couldn't resist.

"You promised, Hilary."

"Yes, I did." Becker could understand all too well the desire to not be called by a particular name, even if it was yours. "Anyway, you don't seem much like a Jamie to me."

"But I seem like a baby?"

"I don't think you want the answer to that," Becker informed him and flopped onto his back.

"You're really very lucky it's your birthday. I'm forcing myself into stretching my patience for you," Lester informed him with a quite considerable scowl.

Becker cupped his hand over Lester's cheek. "Don't you always?"

"Always," Lester agreed, but fondly. "I hope you appreciate the sacrifices I make."

"I do, love. I know it must be such a hardship to live with me."

"An enormous hardship." But Lester had scooted closer to him, stroking his hand lazily up Becker's side. "I realised I didn't… I should probably…" He pressed gentle kisses to Becker's face and said quietly against his skin, "I love you."

Becker closed his eyes and smiled, thinking that that might be the most redundant thing Lester had ever said to him, but it was nice to hear all the same. He trailed his fingers down Lester's back and said, "I know."

End