Warning: This is a grown-up chapter for grown-ups. It contains sexy times. That is all.
"Dan, can you come here, please?"
Jones watched as Dan stepped around the door, his expression closed and confused until he saw his notebook lying square on the bed next to where Jones was sitting.
"So, you...?" he said, his voice gravelly from the cigarette he'd had a few minutes before and the words fading from his mouth like smoke.
"Yeah."
Dan nodded but didn't come any further into the room and Jones didn't blame him. In giving Jones his notebook Dan had bared his soul and it was a frightening thing for anyone to do. Dan looked as if he were preparing to face a firing squad rather than the man he'd spent over two hundred pages writing about. Jones was going to have to make the first move.
He pulled himself to his feet, his crutch sliding away to clatter to the floor, the sound of it like a snare drum as it bounced on the wood, calling them both to action, and Dan took two stilted steps into the room. As much as he'd always hated the title of preacher, there was something about Dan's broad, sloping shoulders and wild curls - so much longer now - with the bright light shining behind him, that was so very prophet-like. And with Dan's words still buzzing in his head Jones took his own two steps forward like an initiate approaching for a blessing.
Dan put out his hand, cupping Jones' elbow to hold him steady, and Jones smiled. It was such a simple gesture, an act of care that might have gone unnoticed if Dan were anyone else, but Jones had been aware of every gentle touch, every hand hold, every checking look, and knew that from Dan these actions were something amazing and that a year ago he would not have been able to even attempt half of them in public the way he did now. He'd noticed too all of the times Dan had stopped himself from touching or holding, sensing Jones' reluctance and respecting his space. He'd filed each of those acts of love as well, they were as important as the touches to Jones.
He could see the breath moving in and out of Dan's lungs, his chest heaving unevenly and causing vibrations in the air like a dust cap on a pounding speaker and Jones wanted to press himself against that chest, to feel Dan's music. And so he decided he would.
His own fingers were shaking as he began to pull the zip of his jacket down and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground with a thud which, in the quiet of the shack, made Dan jump. He pulled at his top next, dragging it up and over his head, careful around his shoulder which still twinged and pulled annoyingly whenever he did anything that involved moving his arm higher than his heart. His skin immediately prickled with goosebumps in the cold and the shiver that went through him was on the edge of violent as Dan stepped forward and ran a large, warm hand up Jones' chest and neck to the side of his face, his thumb caressing Jones' cheek while his long fingers tangled themselves in Jones' newly dyed blue and black hair.
Jones felt his eyes flutter closed as the shivers continued to race up and down his spine, not allowing him to take enough breath, and he raised his hands to Dan's chest, tugging at the buttons to stop his body from seizing up completely.
"I didn't mean for it to make you cry," Dan said, his voice much closer than Jones had been expecting, whispering over the uneven skin of his shoulder.
"I'm not-"
Jones let out a faltering gasp, his breath catching as he felt the tear trail down his cheek to stick in the stubble around his jaw. He focused on unbuttoning Dan's shirt, pulling each button roughly until they were all free and pushing at the fabric until he heard it slither to the floor. He was feeling frantic, like his decks were spinning too fast and he couldn't stop them without putting his hands on the vinyl and burning his fingers. But Dan brought his other hand up to rest on Jones' chest, above his heart, and in that beat the agitation melted away.
He stepped closer as Dan's palm slid upwards to caress his shoulder and bicep and the next gasp was more like a keen as he felt Dan's lips press - chapped and dry but not rough - kisses against the whirl of scars there. He hated those scars most of all because they were the hardest to hide without him chucking all his old clothes and buying new ones and because they pulled in the wrong direction when he moved and thrummed angrily whenever he tried to stretch, like steel guitar strings that had been over-tuned and were starting to unravel. But Dan was kissing them, delicately, lovingly, like they were something to be worshipped, and he could feel Dan's puffed breaths against his skin and he began to ache, not with pain for once but with the need to have Dan as close to him as possible.
He took another step and Dan's arms shifted to support him, circling around his waist until skin pressed against skin, Dan's chest hair rubbing against his nipple and Jones' jaw scraping along Dan's collar bone, sending judders through them both and tearing a moan from Dan's throat that vibrated through their bodies.
He snuck his hands down between them, sliding Dan's belt free as he trailed kisses along the coarse hair of Dan's neck. He'd worried so much that Dan couldn't find him attractive, even if he still loved him, and he'd been putting up a wall between them which he thought was to protect them both but now realised was the same sort of wall Dan had tried to build with alcohol and surliness in the weeks before he jumped from the Trashbat window. And walls were stupid because now, with almost nothing between them, he could feel Dan's emotion pouring out of him, like steam roiling over the rim of a mug, hot and intense yet so close to being insubstantial that anyone else might miss it - but that Jones knew like he knew the taste of the skin under his lips.
"I love you," he breathed against Dan's skin, inhaling the smell of iodine and salt from the ocean and cigarettes and tea leaves and coffee with milk and one sugar and the fainter traces of rose scented soap, and butter and spring onions and cheese from the baked potatoes he'd cooked for their dinner, all mixed in with the sharper scent of sweat, like a painting all in burgundies and maroons and taupes and deep golds but with sweeps of slate and livid and silver.
"I've always loved you," Dan mumbled in reply. "I love you, Jones. I'm sorry."
"No," Jones shook his head, pressing his teeth into the join of Dan's neck and shoulder just hard enough to feel the ripple of Dan's muscles as he shuddered. "You said I put you back together and... I reckon you did the same thing for me. I don't know what I was before you. You put me together out of scraps and all."
He flicked his thumb against the button on Dan's jeans and tugged at the flies until he felt the denim shift and drop away. He could feel the heavy throb of Dan's half-hard cock against his skin where his own jeans had slipped a bit and he pushed against it with his hip, loving the deep rumble of Dan's groan and the way the throb increased, the cotton of Dan's pants hot and tight where his erection was pushing at it.
He slid his hand around to grasp it, pressing and squeezing as Dan began to pant, their chests still pressed tight to one another and Dan's cheek rubbing hard against the side of his head.
"Jones," he gasped and Jones could feel the way Dan's muscles were spasming and relaxing as he gave himself over to Jones' care.
"It's alright," he whispered. "I'm here. Lie down?"
He'd thought long and hard about this, about how he wanted to be not just Dan's boyfriend or partner but his lover again as well. He needed it to make the music complete, and to help them both move forward, and to show Dan that he really did love him and want him and need him in the ways that Dan feared he no longer did. He'd wanted to wait until he felt whole and healed but had realised, as he read Dan's words, that that time might never come and that maybe he just needed to dive back in, like the last time, when he and Dan had taken the leap. Dan had been there for him that time, careful and loving and brave, and he now felt sure that Dan would do the same this time too.
"Are you sure?"
Jones looked up, moving back just enough to take in Dan's closed eyes, parted lips and quivering, exposed body.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
So often in their relationship Dan had been the one to take care of him. Dan had said that Jones was always giving but it was Dan who always knew what to give. Jones wasn't great at taking care of himself and he was worse at taking care of other people and, as rubbish as Dan appeared to be at adulting in general, when it came to Jones he always seemed to know just what to do. But right now Jones wanted to show just how much he loved and needed Dan by repaying the favour and taking care of him.
He placed the notebook reverently on the bedside drawers and then took Dan's hand and led him gently to the bed, sliding his hands over Dan's skin, exploring and relearning until Dan was lying on his back in the centre of the bed, his chest heaving even more forcefully and his eyes shut tight. One long curl had fallen across Dan's face and Jones took a moment to really look at the man who was so achingly beautiful and who had saved his life in so many ways and yet still thought of himself as unworthy. Then he climbed onto the bed and pulled Dan's pants down, grinning at the way the older man's penis bobbed as it was freed, curving upwards toward his stomach.
He kissed up one thigh, pressing firm kisses to Dan's leg and enjoying the way he jolted and twitched in time with the short, breathy gasps that he couldn't seem to hold in. He pressed his nose to Dan's ballsack, nuzzling, before licking a thick stripe with his tongue all the way to the tip of Dan's cock. He hadn't done this in so long and was actually worried that he'd be out of practice, but going down on Dan was still the most natural thing in the world and Jones smiled before opening his mouth to suck on the head of Dan's penis, which caused Dan to let forth a whole new series of gasps and moans that in turn sent the blood rushing from Jones' brain to his groin.
He was tempted to get Dan off like this, to suck and lick and swallow until Dan came down his throat, but Jones knew that what they both needed tonight was the closeness that they found in sex: "the feel of our bodies united and connected until I lose myself in him and finally feel something like freedom" as Dan had written so perfectly.
That didn't mean that he couldn't reduce Dan to a helpless, whimpering pool of need first though and he brought up his weaker hand to stroke Dan's testicles as he supported himself on his good arm, working Dan until he was twitching and sobbing and clutching at the blankets beneath him.
Jones pulled off of Dan with a wet slurp and watched him slump bonelessly against the covers, his cock hard and swollen and glistening. He shuffled across the mattress and opened the bedside drawer to retrieve the lube before kissing his way back down Dan's body, starting at the old scar on Dan's shoulder and ending with a nip to one pale hip bone. He pushed Dan's knees up and Dan obliged, wriggling his arse into a better position and biting his lip when he heard the snap of the lube bottle being opened. Jones could barely recall a time when Dan had looked so ready and so eager to be fucked and he wanted to kick himself for holding out on his lover for so long.
He drizzled some lube over his fingers, rubbing it around until he had them well coated before edging himself up and pressing one gently to Dan's entrance, circling around the puckered skin until it was wet and had started to relax. Dan tilted his hips, pushing the tip of Jones' finger inside himself and both men gasped raggedly at the sensation. Dan was so tight and hot and Jones closed his eyes as he pushed in a little deeper, losing himself in the noises that Dan was making and the press of Dan's flesh against his digit.
He trickled a little more lube down over Dan's hole, hypnotised by the way his finger was disappearing into his lover's body, moving slowly in and out, but looked up when he heard a breathy laugh. Dan had one arm thrown across his eyes but his mouth was open and smiling and Jones felt his heart flutter to know that not only was Dan aroused, he was happy too.
He pushed in a little deeper and crooked his finger, years of practice helping him find Dan's prostate with ease. He remembered when he was nineteen and he had worried that his stubby fingers would never be able to find that magic spot but it had been surprisingly easy, closer and more obvious than he'd imagined, and he pressed against it now, rubbing circles and tapping rhythms until the smile slipped from Dan's face and he was slack jawed and moaning, his neck and chest covered in a sheen of sweat despite the chill in the air.
He slipped his finger free - despite Dan's moan of protest - and squeezed out more lube before carefully adding a second finger. Dan teased him from time to time about how much lubricant they went through but he had never complained about being raw or chafed or under prepared and Jones took pride in the fact that he was able to give Dan intense pleasure with minimal discomfort. He was happy to go through the embarrassment of regularly purchasing lube if it meant that he wasn't stressing about whether Dan was comfortable when they did this. And he liked it when Dan laughed, especially when Jones had several fingers deep inside him - it was like he could feel Dan's laughter from the inside.
He moved the two fingers in and out, letting Dan set the pace as he canted his hips against the bed, each breath accompanied by a faint 'Oh!' as Jones' fingers bumped his prostate. When he added a third finger Dan let out a whispered 'Yes!' and Jones felt his own erection throb, still trapped within his jeans.
"You ok to do this?" he asked and Dan nodded frantically against the pillow, his eyes still hidden but his skin flushed a deep, delicious pink.
Jones moved his fingers out as slowly as he could, loving the way Dan's body tried to follow them. He kept the tips of all three just inside Dan's entrance as he freed himself awkwardly from his jeans and pants, watching the intense emotions flit across Dan's face as Jones fingers jostled and jolted, barely inside of him and at the same time stretching him wide. When Jones was finally naked he thrust his fingers in and out a few times more, watching Dan's legs tremble as he tried to spread them wider. It was an image that he hadn't realised he'd missed, the way Dan let himself go so completely when they did this - the trust that Dan had in him to let him do this - and he felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes as he gazed down at the man he loved so fiercely.
He took a deep, steadying breath as he pulled his fingers completely free and lifted Dan's legs carefully over his until the head of his cock rested against Dan's stretched, glistening entrance. He dripped a little more lube over himself, grasping his shaft as he spread it around and lined himself up.
"I love you," he said and then began to push into Dan slowly, understanding Dan's guttural moan as the response that it was.
Entering Dan was always intense, an assault on all of his senses at once, and now, after so long apart, Jones worried that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. His leg was aching, the muscle of his thigh spasming in complaint against the physical activity, but Jones used it to distract himself a little from the hot, tight press of Dan's body around him. He was glad that they had waited, that he had learned to be a bit more comfortable with the man he was now, rather than trying to force himself back into intimacy straight out of hospital, but he had missed this.
He had missed the intense feeling of rightness that came with actually being inside Dan's body, the way it made him feel like he was remotely close to being near enough, part of, at one with, the man he worshipped and adored and worried about and needed more than caffeine and music combined. And from the way he was gasping for breath and pulling him down for a passionate, messy kiss, Dan had missed this too.
"Love you," Dan panted against his lips between kisses. "Love you, Jones. So much. Missed you." His fingers tightened in Jones' hair, his back arching in a sharp gasp as the tip of Jones' cock brushed against his prostate. "Love you!"
Jones just pressed their foreheads together as he began to thrust gently, enjoying the wet sound of his pelvis against Dan's arse as he rocked in to him with ever increasing speed.
He tried to balance on one arm so he could reach down to Dan's cock which was pressing against him and smearing a wet trail across his stomach but his other arm buckled and he fell, his chest hitting Dan's with enough force that he cried out, pain shooting through his sternum and up to his shoulder.
Dan reacted instantly, wrapping his arms around Jones in a hold that was firm but not too tight and rolling them both until Jones was lying on the bed with Dan above him. Jones opened his eyes in shock, trying to control both the pain in his chest and the intense pleasure of having Dan above him, riding him, shuddering around him. Dan's eyes were open too and they locked onto Jones', as wide as Jones had ever seen them as he too tried to deal with the intensity of their new position.
Dan's mouth was moving, his lips trembling as he tried to articulate what he was feeling, but he couldn't even seem manage a moan. He lifted himself and Jones looked down the length of his body and saw the base of his cock slide out of Dan, only to be enveloped again by the slick heat. Dan's legs, on either side of his, were vibrating and Jones felt as though he was near to being shaken apart. He closed his eyes as Dan began, with agonising slowness, to bounce above him, pushing himself up and down on Jones' cock, deeper than Jones felt they had even been before.
He could hear the wet shlapp as Dan worked his own cock and felt the drops of precome hit his belly, so hot they seemed to burn, but couldn't make his hands work to help him out. And then Dan began to laugh again, breathy and on the edge of exhaustion and so intensely happy that the tears were streaming down Jones' face before he could stop them. He smiled, unable to hold in his own joy, and felt the laughter bubble up from his belly only to come out as stuttered, gasping whimpers when he felt Dan's muscles tighten around him.
Dan's come hit his chest just as Jones' own orgasm rushed through him and his eyes shot open at the overwhelming waves of pleasure as Dan's body clenched around his cock, squeezing him, milking him, and holding him safe so that he couldn't drift away as the pleasure tried to knock him from his own body.
Dan fell forward onto his arms and lowered his face down until their cheeks were pressed together, their tears mingling as they shared breath.
"I love you," Dan murmured again. "Thank you."
Jones tried to speak but couldn't, so turned his head until he caught Dan's lips with his and kissed him until his lungs were bursting.
"Merry Christmas," he whispered, his eyes sliding shut heavily.
Jones was vaguely aware of Dan climbing off his lap, making funny little noises as Jones' spent penis slid free from his stretched hole, before throwing more blankets on to the bed and snuggling down to sleep with his chest pressed to Jones' arm and their legs carefully tangled.
And as rain began to fall, drumming a soothing rhythm upon the roof of the shack, Jones and Dan slept. Sticky, smiling, and content.