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It's soft, like it could contain clothes, and is wrapped in discreet grey plastic. The package is addressed to their house, but it only says one of their names.
James.
Who frowns when Jeremy hands it to him. “I don’t remember ordering any… shirts?”
Like a kid before Christmas, he squeezes and turns over the package, testing the dimensions of its contents. Jeremy is desperately curious, wants to open it himself and solve the mystery of James receiving something in his name that is clearly not bike parts from eBay.
Then James is ripping it open. And all Jeremy sees is a flash of pale pink and lace and rather suggestive straps all over the place and….
Shit. “I remember what that is now.”
James raises his eyebrows at Jeremy. A person of lesser composure might chuck the lingerie directly at his head and storm off assuming Jeremy had ordered it for his mistress and only mistakenly addressed it to his actual partner.
But James is calm and knowledge-seeking, and even if his hand looks unsteady as it pulls out a card from the bag, he is going to read it before jumping to any conclusions. All Jeremy has to do is wait. And wince. And begin rehearsing apologies, just in case.
“Men’s lingerie? I’ve heard of this….”
What really annoys Jeremy is the way James takes something like this in stride, as if Jeremy isn’t stood right in front of him, feeling icy heat prickle his palms and work its way all over. And he keeps going, even after Jeremy becomes annoyed. Very inconsiderate, in Jeremy’s opinion.
“… I just never would have pegged you as interested in seeing me… wait, is it for me? Must be, it’s nearer my size. Hm. I’ll go try it on, yes?”
Jeremy is too frozen to stop him. James simply brushes past and goes up the stairs, until Jeremy can only hear the thump of his footsteps, maddeningly measured.
When Jeremy’s brain does catch up, his body is already trailing after him.
~~~
“In my defense, I was quite drunk!” Jeremy says as soon as he reaches James’ room. James has left the door open and is already undressed, stood in front of his mirror and carefully turning the lingerie around in his hands to see how it works.
“Ah. This way,” James mutters to himself. He sticks his legs through the appropriate openings and wobbles about dangerously.
Jeremy’s mouth is dry. “Did you hear me?” he croaks as he steps forward, just in case.
“Do you think I’m upset?” James says blithely as he wriggles the knickers up his legs, settling his cock into the generous satin pouch and adjusting the tiny, tight lace shorts so that they sit just right on his hips. The suspender straps, meant to hold up stockings that Jeremy evidently forgot to add to the purchase, simply dangle down his thighs, two in the front, two in the back.
“Clearly you aren’t.” Jeremy is still too shocked to say much more, but manages to gesture at James, waving his hand up and down at his body. “Just like that, huh?”
“No, not just like that.” James strides back to the bed, where the torn-open package is lying. In the space of those steps Jeremy has a series of crises, because holy shit how can it look even better in motion? “There’s more. It’s an ensemble, isn’t it.”
The short babydoll dress is pink as well, and even though they were not purchased as a set, the two pieces more or less match. The only differences are the color of the lace – black on the babydoll, framing the chest and wrapping around the waist – and that James has a much easier time working out how it goes on. He slips it on so fast that Jeremy doesn’t have time to breathe.
And neither, it seems, does James.
“Hm.”
In the mirror, Jeremy sees James go still. For a moment his hands remain frozen, yet visibly trembling, at the V-neck of the babydoll. Then they start twiddling with the lace there as if suddenly overcome with shyness.
Cautiously, Jeremy steps into the picture with him. Leaning against the chest of drawers and making sure James can opt to only watch him in the mirror, Jeremy waits for James to decide what he wants to happen next, now that he’s been struck with something he might not have known was residing within him. Just to see if he can aid with the processing, Jeremy speaks up, soft and awed.
“I’m… just happy I got the sizing right.”
“I am, too. Almost perfect.”
Coming unstuck, James touches himself approvingly. His hands smooth over the satin and his eyes follow their path in the mirror. He even does a slight turn, taking himself in from a different angle. An angle that must be too much for him, as he quickly pivots back and clears his throat.
“Funny. I thought I would feel ridiculous. And I do. But I also rather….”
“… like it?”
James answers Jeremy’s desperate blurt with a deep swallow and a sheepish nod. “I think I do, Jez.”
“I do,” Jeremy says, breathy with relief. “I really, really do.”
James blushes and looks down, again smoothing his hands over his belly. “You can- If you want. You can touch.”
For a moment, Jeremy freezes. Just looking has been enough, so much so that Jeremy had long forgotten about that other sense. But then his fingertips twitch at the invitation, hungry to feel what James is clearly feeling in himself.
So Jeremy pushes himself away from James’ mirror. James watches him, hands slowly lowering to his sides, preparing himself for Jeremy to inspect, for Jeremy to meet him toe to toe.
When Jeremy instead reaches out for his hand on his way past him, he is briefly worried that James won’t take it. James breathes in noticeably, his chest pushing out at the lace, filling it so it hugs to him even closer. That must be the steadying he needs to reach out, and hand curls around Jeremy’s and grips gratefully before he lets himself be led to the bed.
Jeremy sits, then makes room for James to stand between his knees. James takes the space with another breath, this one a little shakier. Anything he wants, doesn’t want. It won’t matter to Jeremy. And that’s a promise that he works into the rough skin of James’ hands, both of which are now loosely held in his, lightweight with total trust.
At some point, Jeremy will have to let them go. But first, he guides them closer, taking the time to kiss their knuckles reverently before grinning up at James. James rolls his eyes at the soppiness, but still blushes as pink as the satin and lace he’s wearing for Jeremy and, Jeremy hopes, for himself.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy mumbles with a chuckle against James’ hands. “I can’t resist.”
“It’s alright.” James lets his hands slip free when Jeremy loosens his grip on them, then inspects his nails. “Maybe I should paint these next time. To match.”
Talk of next times and painted nails makes Jeremy shut his eyes and groan despite himself, and his own nails dig into his thighs where he’s now resting his hands. “Maybe you should stop talking.”
“Maybe you should start doing all this touching that I thought was going to happen,” James shoots back.
It’s like the first plunge into the deep end. Jeremy has to simply sink his hands into either side of James’ waist, firm and confident. Even if he feels like he’s spoiling something by introducing his touch to it, it’s worth it to find out if he can actually stand holding something so beautiful.
James' voice is glass etched to the point of breaking. “Is it really so… entrancing?”
Jeremy’s heart overflows into his throat. Too strangled to speak at first, he simply leans forward and kisses James’ chest, letting it linger so he can feel it through the silky fabric. “It is to me. I think it is to you too.”
“I think it is, too,” James rasps.
“Then what else matters?”
Jeremy grins triumphantly, knowing he’s got James there. And James grins back, relief softening his face as he watches Jeremy begin to worship him.
“Where else may I touch you?” Though Jeremy can guess, it’s always safer to check in with James.
There goes the relief. James averts his eyes, and nothing breaks Jeremy’s heart faster than when he acts guilty for setting any boundaries he likes.
“Would you like to sit down? Think it over?”
“… On your lap?”
Jeremy starts. It’s unexpected, but he needs to recover quickly from the surprise if he doesn’t want to make James feel odd for suggesting something that sounds so utterly wonderful.
So Jeremy welcomes him by letting him go. Only for a moment, so he can lean back, open his legs a little wider and see what James wants to do.
Maybe it’s the lingerie that inspires the primness. After all, it’s against type for James to be so… dainty when he takes a seat. Then, of course, Jeremy’s never had the privilege of seeing James take a seat on his thigh, then smooth out his babydoll over his stomach and cross his legs tightly. He's never had to support James’ back to help him balance, his left arm wrapped around this gift he’s been given, his right hand pulling him in by his bare knee.
James leans into all the contact, gradually loosening in Jeremy’s hold as Jeremy makes it clear that’s all he wants to do. He even smiles, if shyly, his hands clasped together on his knee, giving a theatrical wiggle that makes Jeremy grin too.
“Comfortable?”
“Surprisingly. Apart from the lace riding up my arse.”
Jeremy chuckles, absently stroking the hard ridge of James’ shin. When the amusement fades, his hand remains, now a little higher, fingers draped over James’ lower thigh.
“You can touch me,” James says, quiet. Jeremy hesitates, only because he knows a rephrase is imminent. Because it’s never just about what Jeremy can get away with. “I want you to touch me. I… hell, I would want to touch me.”
“Bet you would,” Jeremy says lowly as he begins to press his fingers up James’ thigh. “Who fucking wouldn’t?”
James only breathes out a bit shakily, his head tipping forward until he’s nearly nudging it into Jeremy’s. His hand does nudge into Jeremy’s, brushing over it before sliding up his own thigh as if showing Jeremy the path he might take. Then James keeps going, up his hip and over his belly, finally gripping onto the lace at his chest, fingers winding into it as if to ground himself, even as watching him has the opposite effect on Jeremy, like plunging a live wire into his chest cavity.
“You are… incredible. Just incredible.”
Jeremy’s hand is on the move to prove that with his touch, his fingers contouring lovingly over James’ thigh as he pushes up towards the edge of his lace. James breathes as he’s touched, a little shuddery for Jeremy’s taste, as if he’s still accepting piecemeal what Jeremy’s been giving him. It won’t be long – Jeremy can feel that he’s easing James into a state where firmness is what he will best respond to now that he feels secure enough.
“You’ll tell me if it’s too much,” Jeremy instructs.
“Yes. I will. I’m just….”
James shifts, and Jeremy holds his hand still, mid-thigh. James is uncrossing and recrossing his legs and winding his arm around Jeremy’s neck, all in effort to get closer, give Jeremy more access so he can touch the back of his thigh if he wants. Or even higher.
With James tucking his head into his shoulder, Jeremy squeezes him a bit tighter with the arm that’s around his waist. With his other hand, he splays his fingers over his thigh and hauls him in while also brushing against the hem of his knickers. The lace and hair and warm, smooth muscle provide a treat for his sense of touch, a mixture that feels as delicious as it looks.
“Going to touch you here,” Jeremy alerts him gently as he slides his hand over the lace, where it’s stretched snug on James’ hip. One of the suspender straps dangles down from there and Jeremy gives it a tug, then twiddles it over James’ bare skin, tickling him into squirming on his lap.
The movement briefly worries Jeremy, but James doesn’t ask him to stop. Instead, he kisses him, soft and fleeting on his neck, his hand curving under his jaw as he does. It gives Jeremy pause, makes him wonder for the first time if James is wanting more than he thought.
Jeremy’s hand leaves James’ hip and tucks his hair behind his ear instead. Now they’re each holding the other, gentle, worn hands on necks that pulse with slow, simple desires. This must be pure pleasure enough – anything else could be too deep a dive when all they want is to skim the glittering surface of something new and undisturbed.
James’ forehead nudges into Jeremy’s temple and stays there, his breathing a bit deeper than Jeremy remembers. “I’m not hard,” he admits. “And… I don’t particularly want to be.”
“I don’t want to be either,” Jeremy agrees, warm with understanding. Some of James’ hair didn’t get tucked behind his ear before – Jeremy hums and gets it all and keeps his hand at the back of James’ head to cradle him securely. Because Jeremy is hard, just a bit, but he wants James to know it’s alright as long as he’s alright, and that what he’s giving Jeremy now is more than he could ever ask for.
“I sort of like that you are,” James admits.
“Yeah? It doesn’t make you feel… odd?”
“No. I feel… rather lovely.”
“Oh, James.”
Keep holding him, Jeremy’s aching heart says when nothing else comes to his lips. Kiss him, just there, on the cheek. He feels weakened to the touch, but it’s nothing that Jeremy can’t make up for, gaining strength as his hand returns to his hip and both his arms promise to keep him near as he needs for however long this will be.
Jeremy smiles when he feels the total relaxation, the complete acceptance, reach James so meaningfully. He believes Jeremy, trusts him, and nothing makes Jeremy happier than when James is feeling that way, the way he deserves to.
“If you want,” James speaks up, “you can touch underneath.”
“Like this?”
A careful Jeremy slips his hand under the hem of the babydoll and finds James’ belly bulging out a bit over the knickers, his skin soft and sensitive to the touch. He’s a little twitchy, but he nods for Jeremy to continue, hums when Jeremy spreads his hand out on the side of his belly, just above his hip.
“You’re awfully warm,” Jeremy mutters, cautiously appreciative. “Is that okay?”
James nods again. “I feel warm,” he says, nearly a whisper. He doesn’t want to spoil it, Jeremy knows, though he can’t fathom how he ever could. “It’s not too much, Jez. I like it still.”
“So do I. And you know, this really is your color, by the way.”
James blushes light pink to match his lingerie. Jeremy is pulled back from him enough to appreciate the way the color and sheen of the fabric play off the blue in his eyes and the pale silver of his hair, and thanks his drunken, weeks-ago self for picking out the perfect shade for this exceedingly, maddeningly lovely man.
“I’m so… fucking relieved that you like this,” Jeremy chuckles, squeezing James’ hip while nuzzling into his cheek for a kiss.
“I… quite like it a lot.”
James turns his head inward. First, his eyes meet Jeremy’s, checking, before going on to his lips. Jeremy’s mouth opens, and James pulls him in for their next kiss to spark between them, faint, but still enough to light a fire.
A smile breaks them up. Jeremy’s. James is looking rather sheepish, and it worries Jeremy enough for his smile to fall. To prevent that happening, Jeremy’s arm instinctively tightens around him, and he nudges at him, forehead to forehead.
“Tell me what else you’d like.”
James pushes at him, then sneaks a kiss to his lips, fleeting and sweet. “To not be wearing this anymore.”
Jeremy starts to wheeze out a laugh, then stops when he sees James is perfectly serious. Flummoxed, Jeremy fiddles with the lace at his thigh, pressing his fingertips through the larger holes to the warm flesh beneath.
“Lay me down?”
“You sure?” Jeremy is simmering to do as he asks, but can’t fall at what could be the last fence.
“I am. I want… I want you to take it off of me.”
“Shit, James….”
It’s reverence. It can’t be anything else. It’s one last grip of his hip, Jeremy wrapping his fingers around as much of him as he can fit. Then, it’s an upward slide of his hand, finding the slight suggestion of a waist that the dress gives him, and nearly groaning to feel the light slick of fabric bunch under the cling of his fingers.
Jeremy lays him down. He’s not light, but he helps Jeremy manage, and, between their efforts, he goes gracefully, even arching a bit when his shoulders hit the mattress.
Now that’s a sight. On display, James is even more shy, and understandably so. His babydoll is just short enough so his knickers are mostly visible, for Jeremy to see they are still just as snug and lovely as they had been when Jeremy was holding him. Now that he’s leaning over him, Jeremy can straighten out his suspender straps for him, aligning them with his thighs while admiring the soft bulge of satin where his cock is cradled and covered. He smiles, almost rueful that he has to ever see it off of James, though he knows the rarity of it is part of what makes it so special.
“Just beautiful. I- honestly, I’m astonished, James.”
James hums softly, in what Jeremy hopes are similar feelings for his own loveliness. Jeremy’s hand again wanders to his hip, pressing him close to the bed, and now James’ hands push down the front of his dress to join him there.
James touches himself. There’s approval in it, in the slow appreciation of his own hips, thighs. Cock, belly. So much so that Jeremy’s work is finished and he can now let his own hand wander upward, traveling up James’ arm to his neck and pulling himself down to see if he wants to be kissed like this.
A grin invites Jeremy the rest of the way. Jeremy kisses him, deeply and lazily, to let him savor all he can give, all James can inspire in him.
While they’re kissing, Jeremy can feel James stir underneath him. Momentarily worried, he breaks away from James, looking down to watch him as he takes off his dress, lifting his back from the bed so he can slip it over his chest, wriggle it over his shoulders and let it pool up on itself at the foot of the bed.
Jeremy kisses him again once it’s gone. He hardly has to look anymore to appreciate James like this. This body is familiar to him – the flushed and sensitive chest, the perfect swell of stomach, the downward slope from his navel to his hips. With James so bare and close, Jeremy could be blinded and still know his way, including how much touch James can withstand before he grows restless, shifting almost imperceptibly underneath him.
Jeremy withdraws then. Left flat on his back, James is breathing hard, eyes locked to Jeremy in gratitude for backing off. After a few moments, he clears his throat and nudges his legs apart, and Jeremy has other places to be that aren’t right beside him.
“Ready?” Jeremy double-checks as he stands between James’ knees, where his legs dangle off the edge of the bed.
“Please. Slowly?”
“Don’t you worry.”
Jeremy leans in, and James bends his legs, lifting them up just a bit. Jeremy hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of the knickers and gently tugs, one side at a time to ease the tight fit of the fabric down James’ hips and over his arse. The slow reveal of his limp cock along with the soft patch of curls it emerges from, gives Jeremy momentary pause, but he simply licks his lips, swallows and continues, only a faint stirring inside him that can be easily ignored in favor of his focus on James’ complete comfort.
To help Jeremy slide the knickers down his thighs, James brings them together, and Jeremy is no longer fixated on his cock, instead caught watching the lace skim over the hair and muscles of his legs. Over his knees, Jeremy purposefully lets the waistband drag even though it’s plenty wide enough now to remove without needing to touch James at all. James seems to appreciate the extra contact, pulling his knees up to his body, legs held closely together as Jeremy slowly draws the pretty knickers down his shins and, finally, past his feet.
Once they’re gone, added to the pile with his babydoll, James can breathe out, long and a little shaky. His feet are back on the bed, his legs still bent and pressed together, and Jeremy, hands curled around his knees, waits to see what he wants next.
“Kiss me?”
James’ knees part again, and Jeremy watches in awe. Dumbly, Jeremy nods and grins, and climbs onto the bed between James’ legs to kneel over him. There, he decides to wait, making sure his looming will not intimidate James, a brief worry that dissipates once James gets his hands on him, encouraging him to cover his naked body with his clothed one.
This is what James likes best. He’s usually very comfortable with his body – almost enviably so from Jeremy’s perspective – even if he’s not always comfortable with or interested in sex. Jeremy knows it’s enough for him to be pushed into the bed by his bulk, a gentle press accompanied by another slow kiss.
It's mostly up to James now to do the touching. He’s not the most natural at it, but with time he’s become more confident taking what he likes from Jeremy’s body. The strength of his hands when they squeeze at the sides of Jeremy’s belly and up his back is a testament to that, as is the snug curl of his legs around Jeremy’s waist. All Jeremy must do is cradle his neck and kiss him with fading intensity, trailing into sweet little presses of his lips down the side of his face when he feels the warm, loose body underneath him tighten up by the smallest of degrees.
With some lingering contact, James lets Jeremy go when he starts to slide off to the side of him. Their shared grins are sheepish, wondering at what they’ve just indulged, though at least in Jeremy’s mind, there is no trace of shame to be detected.
“Might need a cigarette after that,” he huffs wryly.
James is starting to blush, as if just now remembering he’s completely starkers. Moving slowly and deliberately, he sits up, stands, while Jeremy studies the ceiling and waits until he hears the slip of clothes over skin and the small grunts of effort as James dresses himself again.
Back into his original outfit of worn T-shirt and old, holey jeans, Jeremy is glad to see when he finally does look. He is picking up the dress and knickers from the bed and laying them out neatly, probably working out in his head how to fold them and where to put them away.
It's James’ room, and Jeremy almost doesn’t want to know where those pretty things will go. He sits up, scoots to the edge of the bed and studies his hands, wondering how they’re not tinted a delicate pale pink.
“We have shopping to do,” James announces. He’s still looking down at the lingerie on the bed. When Jeremy looks at him, he lifts an eyebrow at him and says, “You forgot the stockings, Jez.”
“I’m sorry I was too clattered to complete your ensemble.”
“Not necessarily just for me,” James adds on, finally folding up his new clothes. While chancing a glance up at Jeremy, hopeful and a bit shy.
Jeremy could really use that cigarette now. Or, as substitute, a quick kiss from James. Then, if he can make it downstairs to his computer, he would love to find the site he bought from before and see what other styles and colors might suit James – or himself – best.
Another shared look from James gets him thinking, maybe….
Blue?
~~~