Ramblings of a madwoman

slashthedrabble prompt "Bond". Who else could I write about for this prompt? *g*

They fell into Ianto’s flat, hands and mouths feeling, touching, tasting.

“You look hot in that tux, you know that don’t you?” Jack managed between kisses.

“Oh yes, I do. It’s my 007 look. Licence to thrill.” Ianto grinned against Jack’s mouth.

Ianto found himself pushed down on the sofa, Jack’s weight pressing heavily against him, hand cupping Ianto’s crotch.

“It seems I have you right where I want you.”

“Do you expect me to talk?”

“No, Mr Bond, I expect you to come.”

Ianto pulled back, face wrinkled in disgust.

“No Jack, tell me you didn’t just say that.”

Lester was a man of order. Some would say control freak, OCD, anally retentive.

He didn’t care what they said. He liked order. He respected order. A place for everything and everything in its place.

He liked rules and routine. They kept things they way they should be. There were no surprises that way and you’d be prepared for anything.

He hated disorder and had no time the unorganised or unruly.

But Connor was chaos personified. Madness and disruption followed him wherever he went.

And where he was now was Lester’s flat.

And it had never felt more like home.

slashthedrabble

Lester hovers as Connor’s brought out and wrapped in blankets, getting a verbal assurance that he’s okay.

But it’s not enough.

Later, when they are home Lester smothers Connor’s body with his. He has to feel that warmth has come back to that skin, that those muscles and nerves still respond to his touch, that blood still runs warm in those veins. He feels the heat of Connor’s breath ghost against his neck as he moves inside him and he knows.

He knows he is safe, knows he is back with him. And knows that he wants him to stay.