Chapter Text
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Sheer luck of the randy lets them find a single, locking toilet with enough space for Jeremy to turn on James and press him into the door as soon as they’re both inside. This gift is appreciated for only a moment with a shared, breathless grin, and then James is drawing him in and Jeremy is going, sinking into him like a stone.
Just a bit of kissing first, James promises himself. Public lavatory sex is an inherently rushed activity, and James rather hates those. When Jeremy had pulled him in here, it was with the promise of worshiping him, and James intends on that happening at the speed it requires, as being worshiped by Jeremy must be savored.
Besides, it’s not as if they’d had to hurriedly barge their way through a crowd to get here. The seats around them had been emptied long before Jeremy had turned to him, thumbnail worrying between his teeth, to proposition him, hushed and strangled. After feeling Jeremy’s eyes on him all night, James had needed no convincing – he wonders if that would have been true even if they had been packed in with other people, even if Jeremy had shouted “I want to suck your cock!” from center stage.
But Jeremy only has to whisper it. After he kisses along James’ cheek to his ear, after his hands close around James’ middle.
They’re belly to belly, and James can feel the heat now. Jeremy’s hands show clear reverence for James, or at least for his rumpled suit, fingers stroking under his lapels, palms curving over his shoulders.
“Can I?” Jeremy asks again, double-checking now that he’s got James feeling a bit flushed against him.
“Yeah,” James breathes. Now that the initial wonder of Jeremy’s obvious attraction for him has settled in, James can accept and welcome it, especially when Jeremy takes care to ease him into it.
Jeremy breathes too, with a press of his forehead to James’. “Thank you.”
A final kiss, soft and light, and then he’s headed down. Not exactly quietly, given the wet kisses he sucks into James’ stomach as he claws open his shirt, or the groans as he settles onto his knees on the hard tile. For a moment, James pities him, but then a quick glance at him down there – suffering physically, but so eager in every other way – sends a shiver up his back that isn’t from the cool tile wall.
James chances a longer look. The urge to muss Jeremy’s hair with his fingers is strong enough to take his next breath, but he restrains himself. Just as he restrains himself from scratching long red stripes up the back of Jeremy’s neck, keeping the rasp of his nails light yet still tantalizing enough to get Jeremy to look up at him balefully.
James has been steadily hardening since Jeremy had whispered to him in the emptied-out arena. Now his cock is full and aching to the point where each brush of Jeremy’s fingers undoing his trousers and tugging them down produces a deep need in his hips to push forward, to seek more contact than the kind that’s leaving him so hot and teased.
Jeremy doesn’t touch him, not properly. Only enough to get him naked from waist to thigh, and then he’s moaning out loud before he licks the tip of his cock. And laughs. The bastard.
“Fuck,” James hisses, and this time he can’t hold himself back from bucking, only softly, but still earning a cluck and a sigh from Jeremy.
“Christ, look at you.”
Suck me, more like. But James can’t demand and doesn’t want to. His cock doesn’t even really mind the tease of the next lick, a little longer up the underside. It pulses and lifts on its own, a wonder considering how heavy with hardness it is.
It wants more of Jeremy’s mouth. It knows how much Jeremy loves it, how he loves to be filled. That’s why it nearly spends with a deep shudder of his hips when Jeremy finally does let it push past his lips, yielding his soft wet heat to as much of its length as he can take in one slow slide and with one long moan.
After that it’s only a matter of James giving himself and Jeremy what they both want. Sweet, grinding thrusts into Jeremy’s willing mouth, just to feel him out until his balls lift and his cock thrums with the need to finish. Deep inside Jeremy, giving him what he’s nearly gagging to take from James.
Bravely, he does take it all. James curses and shivers and bucks, but Jeremy stays with him, softly moaning for more. James’ fists beat against the wall next to where his hips are pinned and quivering, his entire body enjoying this release like a maddening descent into the deepest softness, closing around him with alarming speed.
Jeremy’s got him when he starts to crumple. He whimpers because Jeremy’s mouth is off him, but then it’s on other places, like the sliver of skin beneath his bowtie where his shirt is unbuttoned, where Jeremy’s hand has a brief exploration as well. Then Jeremy is panting into his ear while his body holds him up to the wall, his belly the perfect softness to cling to in the aftermath.
Lower, there’s a hardness that James is eager to address. Inspiration comes to mind as he looks over Jeremy’s shoulder at the rest of the bathroom, soaked in warm fluorescence. “Sit on the sink? Want to take care of you too.”
But Jeremy shakes his head, laughs. “I’m in no hurry, me. Maybe at home?”
Redressing and washing up follow, and despite Jeremy’s assurance, it is rather hurried. But there’s always time for Jeremy to stop James with his hand on the doorknob, kiss him quickly and huskily on the cheek, then let him leave first. While he waits for the all-clear.
And gives James time to remember where the bloody hell they parked.
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