A Change of Perspective Ch. 06

August 2011

"Hey honey, I'm home."

Six months of repetition have got James's routine down pat - the gentle bang of the front door, the double thud as he kicks his boots off, the rustle of fabric when he hangs up his jacket. Then he's padding along the hall, finding me in the kitchen.

I nudge the cutlery drawer shut with my hip and turn to kiss him. He's in jeans and t-shirt today, in deference to having spent the day on site. There's pink cement dust all down one leg and the strap of his hard hat has squashed his hair flat - and to me he's still the sexiest man I've ever seen.

"Hey sweetheart, you're home early. How'd it go?"

He groans and drops his head onto my shoulder. "You'd think a contractor who's been in the game fifteen years would know that concrete is trouble in this weather, but apparently not. It's like he's never seen the sun before. The idiot's set us back at least a week, and I wouldn't mind but -" He breaks off. "Sorry, sorry. I know you've heard it all a million times before."

I pull his head up and kiss him again. "A billion, easily. Thank goodness that I love every minute of my job and never grumble about anything, ever."

His frown dissolves into a grin. "In that case, I must have dreamed your rant last week about interval training."

"Must have." I'm trying for a sulk, but I can't help smiling. "Okay, you got me."

James wraps his arms around me. "I certainly do. Never want to let you go, either."

It's been nearly eighteen months since he turned up on my doorstep unexpectedly, apologising for his behaviour the summer before and asking me to give him a second chance. Eighteen months of getting to know each properly and realising that actually we could fit together long-term, if we wanted to.

I realised that James was serious about us when he took me to Alberta to meet his parents. That scared me more than anything else I've ever done, but I survived - and James assures me I have their seal of approval. Close-mouthed and slightly begrudging approval, but approval, nonetheless.

I realised that I was serious about us in the aftermath of our one truly serious fight, a couple of months after James moved in with me. I'm ashamed to say that I don't remember now what he did that upset me, but at the time I was so pissed off that I didn't speak to him for two days. I might have held out for longer, behaving like a brat and doing our relationship irreparable damage, except that on the second day he didn't come home after work.

He'd been on the Jubilee line during rush hour when it ground to halt, trapping him and two thousand other passengers underground. When I couldn't get through to his phone at first I thought he'd stayed out to punish me - and then, when the first news reports started to trickle through, I got scared that something much worse had happened. I couldn't help remembering the 7/7 bombings, and I'd been frantic with worry long before he finally got home that night. Funnily enough, whatever-it-was I'd been angry about suddenly didn't seem as important as telling him that I loved him.

Compared to that, the rest has been easy. It took a little while before Gil could be happy for us, but I can't blame him for that. Him meeting Leigh definitely helped - as did Rachel, who's been resolutely in our corner since day one. As she says herself, she's a sucker for a happy ending.

James moves against me, nudging me out of my reverie, and sniffs appreciatively. "Something smells good. When's dinner?"

His eager expression makes me smile. "It's in the oven. Not for an hour at least, impatient boy."

"Boy? Such impudence - I'll have you know that I'm all man." He nudges against me again. "Horny man, at that. Something looks good, too."

I take a step back, teasing us both. "You mean the fact that I cleaned up in here? I thought I'd demonstrate that cooking doesn't always have to leave a trail of destruc-"

I've backed myself against the kitchen island, with nowhere to go when James pushes up to me and kisses me into silence. His hands are at my waist, his mouth so close to my ear that it gives me shivers. "I think we should get it good and messy again, baby."

Heat pools in the pit of my stomach and I can only nod agreement. James moves quickly, pushing my jeans down to my ankles and spinning me around so that I'm draped over the work surface. I can feel myself trembling as his hands stroke up my thighs.

"God Si, you look so fucking wanton... like you can't even wait long enough to get upstairs before you let me fuck you." His breath is hot and damp on my skin, moving lower, telling me what he's going to do. He licks gently, his tongue making broad swipes across my buttocks. I rock my hips, trying to direct him, but he moves with me. The torture continues until I whine, which makes him laugh. "Now who's impatient, baby?"

"Me..." I'm breathless, and he's barely touched me. "Do it, James, just do it..."

"You ask so sweetly." For a second I think he's going to carry on teasing, until I feel his mouth on me again. His fingers pull me open and his tongue laps at me, pushes into me, sends me higher and higher with every touch. When he pulls away again I could cry, but he's back almost immediately, pouring something cool and slippery across my skin. I barely have time to wonder what he used before he's working his fingers into to me. He moves faster as I push back against him. "That's right baby, get yourself ready for me..."

James nudges my feet as far apart as my jeans will allow and then he's sliding into me properly, nice and easy after all the practice we've had. My cock nudges against the counter but before I can reach for it James's hand is there, holding me firmly in his slick fist. He pulls me backwards half a step. "Move for me, Si. Show me just how hot and horny you get for me."

I do it, rocking backwards onto his cock and forwards into his hand, hard and fast, not thinking about anything other than how badly I want to get off and how good he makes me feel. Our bodies slap together and the heat rises, and I know James is close too when he groans, our rhythm breaking down as he pushes into me even deeper and his hips stutter. His hands clutch at me wildly and the extra pressure is just enough, just right, and then I'm coming too, in great shuddering bursts as I hang onto the counter so as not to collapse in a boneless heap on the floor.

We lie there for a long time, me clinging to the worktop with stiff fingers and James draped over me, listening to the hum of the oven and the quiet tick of the clock. I could spend the rest of my life like this, with this man.

"Simon?"

"Mmm?" I turn my head, hot cheek resting on cool marble.

"I love you so much."

It's not that James never says it, but he doesn't usually sound quite so heartfelt about it. I twist around to look at him. "I love you too."

"And... we make a good pair, don't we?"

"I think so."

He leans down to kiss me. "The sort of pair who're so good together that maybe they should... make it official. Legally binding official."

My mouth's gone dry, and I have to swallow hard. "James... are you asking...?"

"I want forever, Si." He sounds suddenly nervous, as if I might not feel the same way. "If that's what you want too?"

Marriage... It's funny how one word can encompass such a huge concept. Love. Happiness. Security. All the things I used to believe I'd never have. All the things James already gives me. There's only one possible answer.

"I do."