“Bollocks,” Ryan said. “I’ve seen you draw. You’re very good, especially at drawing portraits.”
James almost laughed. He wasn’t all that good at drawing portraits. He was good at drawing Ryan.
“Whatever,” Ryan said with a sigh. “You’re coming to the Christmas party at the house, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Your mum’s cooking is the best thing ever.” James made a face. “I’ll have to attend our annual Christmas ball at the Lytton Hall, of course, but I’ll get away. No one would miss me. There’ll be hundreds of important people, maybe even the Royal Family.”
Ryan snorted, squeezing Jamie’s ankle. “Say hello to Her Majesty from me.”
The whistle was blown and the game was over, Chelsea players leaving the pitch with dejected faces.
“Bugger.” James sighed, turning the TV off.
Ryan patted his leg. “Don’t worry, I think they’ll get out of the relegation zone soon.”
Glowering, James kicked him in the abs.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, James,” Ryan said with a mock-solemn look on his face. “It’s inappropriate for the Viscount Exmouth.”
“I hate you,” James said, yawning. He closed his eyes. “I’m taking a nap.”
“Are you?” Ryan murmured, the pressure of his fingers on James’s ankle increasing.
James opened his eyes.
Ryan’s expression was almost bored, but not quite. The hard, dark gleam in his green eyes told a different story.
James swallowed, his pulse picking up. They needed to talk. It couldn’t go on like this. It probably wasn’t very healthy.
Slowly, he sat up, their eyes still locked together.
“Bring Luke with you to the Christmas party,” Ryan said as James sank to his knees between his long, muscular legs. “Before he’s sent off to Siberia by his dick of a father.”
“He isn’t going to Siberia,” James said, his fingers shaking a little as they unzipped Ryan’s fly. He pulled Ryan’s cock out. “He’s going to Moscow.”
“There’s a difference?”
“There is, actually. Siberia is to the east.” Sticking his tongue out, Jamie licked Ryan’s cock from the base to the tip. He remembered how soft Ryan had been the first time, but lately Ryan was always at least half-hard before Jamie got his mouth on his cock.
“It’s freezing in Moscow, too,” Ryan said, his voice a little husky as Jamie licked his cock until it was fully hard.
Hands grabbed his face, stilling him.
Jamie looked up. Ryan was staring at him with the expression that was already becoming very familiar: a steady, hard look that was impossible to read. His eyes on Jamie’s face, Ryan rubbed his leaking cock against Jamie’s cheek before stroking the fat head against his lips. Jamie parted his lips eagerly, but Ryan didn’t push his cock inside. He continued smearing his pre-come across Jamie’s parted lips, watching it intently. Jamie couldn’t stop a small whine, his tongue flicking out to lick the cock.
Ryan’s eyes darkened. “This is so fucking wrong.”
Jamie blinked, startled and flustered. This was the first time in the last two weeks that Ryan actually acknowledged what they were doing.
“Why?” Jamie said, holding Ryan’s gaze and rubbing his lips against the tip of his cock.
The muscles in Ryan’s jaw worked. “I shouldn’t use you like this.”
Jamie licked the head slowly, relishing its taste. “You’re not using me if I want to be used by you.”
Ryan’s nostrils flared, his thighs tensing under James’s hands. “Jamie,” he grated out, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I wasn’t kidding: I don’t love you that way. You’re like a brother to me—” He groaned when James took the fat head into his mouth, Ryan’s hips jerking to push his cock deeper. Jamie hummed happily around Ryan’s cock, opening his mouth wider and relaxing his throat as much as he could. Ryan finally lost the battle with himself and started fucking his mouth roughly, his green eyes becoming unfocused.
James had no idea how long it lasted. The scent, the taste, the feel of Ryan’s thick cock moving in his mouth, stretching his lips wide, Ryan’s fingers tangled in his hair, Ryan’s low grunts…all of it was driving him crazy. James pressed the heel of his hand against his own erection, rubbing it and moaning quietly around Ryan’s.
Looking up again, he found Ryan watching him intently, a confusing mix of loathing and hunger on his face.
“This is so wrong,” Ryan said again, his grip on James’s hair tightening. He slammed hard into James’s mouth, choking him on his cock. “Goddammit, Jamie—”
The sound of his name, in that tone, in that voice, from that man—it was enough to push James over the edge, his hips jerking against his hand as he came with a groan, his throat tightening around Ryan’s cock. Ryan swore under his breath and pulled out, splashing his come all over Jamie’s lips and chin.
Flushed and breathing hard, they looked at each other dazedly.
Ryan’s eyes dropped to James’s lips. He stared before averting his gaze and tucking his cock back inside his jeans. “Go clean up.”