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Lister Bird was a fuckboy. This was a truth universally acknowledged, even by his closest friends. Jimmy would go so far as to say this was impressed upon him before he and Lister ever spoke — even though they were young — just because of how Lister acted. The jokes he made, his tendency to loudly flirt with girls — it told Jimmy two things:
Firstly, that what came out of Lister's mouth was to be scrutinised before it was believed. When everything was lathered up in a layer of arseholeish confidence, it didn't matter how much Jimmy liked being around Lister or how much real shit they had been through together. Lister did not want to be taken seriously, and so Jimmy wouldn't.
Secondly, that when Lister had a desire to do something, he'd act on it. Whether it was a girl Lister wanted to kiss, a guy he wanted to experiment with, or had altogether nothing to do with dating, Lister rarely wasted time talking about it. He just went for it. This had worried Jimmy in the early days of their friendship and later grew into something he envied.
They had spent months circling each other because of it. In the end, it was Jimmy who made the first move, crowding into Lister’s space one sleepless night in the quiet of their apartment. Jimmy resented that he seemed to be the only person in the world around whom Lister showed restraint.
Lister did not like that he had this reputation. It did not change the way he acted. Jimmy remembered telling him to his face once, back in Year 9, when Lister had been complaining about a girl rejecting him.
“I was so sure!” Lister had declared. “I was so sure she liked me back. We had such a good vibe going.”
Jimmy had shrugged. He said, “Maybe she does. She might just be protecting herself ‘cuz you act like such a fuckboy.”
“Jimmy,” said Rowan, chastising.
“It’s true!”
Lister brushed it off. “I’m just a very passionate person.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes.
Then, “Are you being serious?”
Jimmy felt hysterical. “Yes!”
Rowan, ever the group mediator, tried, “She just couldn’t handle the passion, mate. Nothing to feel sad about.”
That had mellowed Lister somewhat.
Of course, it only got more prominent once they started getting famous. Jimmy would leave Lister alone for five minutes then find him chewing the face off a stranger at pretty much every event they went to.
At sixteen, Jimmy had never kissed anyone. At sixteen, Jimmy now knew, Lister had lost his virginity.
He didn't envy Lister the encounter. This was something they still hadn't talked about, even when they started hooking up. It was a sore spot for Lister and Jimmy hadn't a clue how to handle it. So he hadn't brought it up, and Lister hadn't either.
But the milestone mattered to him, even though it was stupid, and arbitrary, and at sixteen Jimmy could drive himself to an anxiety attack at the thought of having to navigate sex with someone who wanted to be inside of him.
When he did finally have sex, he discovered it was as awkward and uncomfortable as any other interaction with someone you don't know very well. But he still hated that Lister discovered that before him.
If Jimmy was honest with himself — privately, fleetingly — he could admit that he had thought about sex with Lister before their terrible kiss in the O2 bathroom. It tended to come to him idly, usually when he had been drinking. Most of the time the thought wouldn't linger. Sue him, Lister was attractive. Jimmy was only human.
The few times he entertained the thought and let the fantasy play out in his head, he would hit a wall. His only parameters for what Lister was like in the bedroom were founded on how he touched someone when he made out with them, and Jimmy didn't exactly make a habit of watching Lister do this. It was also true that Lister The Fuckboy was not someone Jimmy found particularly appealing.
Would he be so experienced that anything Jimmy could offer him was laughable? Worse — forgettable? He would become just another body in a long line of conquests. He couldn’t stand it.
Jimmy didn't think about sex with Lister much before that first time they kissed. He had common sense, knew better than to indulge too much in the fantasy of hooking up with your bandmate. He also couldn't quite construct the fantasy in any way that didn't make him feel like shit about himself.
He supposed that common sense had mostly flown out the window, now.
It was early days in their friends-with-benefits arrangement. Secret, stolen kisses and a few wandering hands and mouths had characterised the past three weeks. They were fast approaching the question that Jimmy tended to hate with guys he hooked up with:
How are we going to have sex?
Because of course, blowjobs were fine — with Lister, Jimmy even found them fun, and it thrilled him to learn what sounds he could draw out of him —
—But Lister wanted more. Jimmy could tell.
A month or so ago, Jimmy had struck gold. He had met Callum. Callum, who was also trans; Callum, who only ever bottomed for the guys he got with. For the first time ever, Jimmy didn't have to navigate that dreaded question, didn't have to give a guy a quick anatomy lesson before he took his clothes off, because Callum already knew what to expect, and he knew what he wanted from Jimmy.
That had changed the way JImmy thought about sex a bit. It had changed the way he thought about sex with Lister, for one. So as they approached that dreaded question, Jimmy hoped. He knew it was a long shot, but it would be so perfect if they were that compatible. Please, he thought. Please.
They were in Lister's room. It was late, late enough that Rowan was asleep. Lister was only wearing boxers, as he usually did when he went to bed. He was practically laid out for Jimmy. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity.
Jimmy kissed Lister into the pillows. As he rolled on top of Lister, their legs interlocked. Lister's hands curled round Jimmy's hips, not pulling, just resting. Jimmy pressed his thigh against the soft cotton of his briefs, and Lister groaned. His grip tightened.
They broke apart for a moment. Jimmy shifted his other leg and settled his weight between Lister's thighs. As he leaned back in, Lister smiled.
Jimmy slid a hand over Lister's ribcage. He felt him tense, heard him sigh. Lister's fingers slipped under the hem of his t-shirt.
He sat back. Lister followed him up, sliding the shirt over Jimmy's shoulders. As soon as the shirt was discarded, Jimmy pulled Lister closer, hands wandering the plane of his back as their mouths slotted back together.
Lister hugged him with his thighs. Oh, God.
Jimmy laid Lister back down. Lister was taller than Jimmy, his shoulders broader, yet he felt so delicate when Jimmy cradled him like this.
He couldn't wait any longer. “I wanna suck you off,” he said, drawing back so he could see Lister's face properly. “That cool?”
Lister grinned. He nodded.
Jimmy kissed him quickly on the mouth, then under his chin, then down, down his body until he came to his navel. He curled his fingers round Lister's waistband, and Lister lifted his hips. Jimmy stepped off the bed to pull Lister's briefs down over his knees. He tossed the garment behind him. Tried not to actually start drooling at the sight of Lister's leaking, half-hard cock, the way his legs fell open to welcome Jimmy back between them.
This part was blissfully easy. Jimmy took Lister in his hand, gave him just one gentle stroke. Licked the tip, watched Lister’s eyes fall shut with pleasure. Wrapped his lips around the head to get it wet. Lister’s chest rose and fell.
Jimmy rested on his elbow, his free hand curled on the base of Lister’s cock. He took him further into his mouth. Lister hissed out a breath.
“How are you so good at this?” he wondered aloud.
As if it’s so hard, Jimmy thought. As if sex was some grand mystery.
He didn’t dignify Lister’s question with a response. He just stared up at him blankly and bobbed his head.
It was easy to get cis guys off. Jimmy thought so, anyway. He hated how they would fumble between his legs when it was his turn. He envied that stupidity, wished he could walk through life unencumbered by all the complications that came with being born without a dick.
He licked the underside of Lister’s cock, spread the slick up the shaft with his hand. Made eye contact with him as he sank back down.
Lister groaned. “Fuck, just like that. That’s so good.”
Jimmy abruptly found himself bored. This wasn’t one of his best friends, someone he had known for years. There was no intimacy to the words that came out of his mouth, no urgency. He rolled Lister’s balls in his palm.
“Shit,” Lister moaned, tipping his head back. He twisted his fingers in the bedsheets.
A small pang in Jimmy’s chest. Lister never held Jimmy’s head when they did this, never pulled his hair or did anything to try and control him.
Endeared, Jimmy regained focus. He pulled off, replaced his mouth with his hand for the time being. “I wanna try something,” he said.
“You can do whatever you want to me,” Lister replied, giddy.
Jimmy didn’t falter. “I wanna try fingering you.”
For an endless moment, Lister just stared at him. In that moment, Jimmy's stomach plummeted. He pictured this night, ruined, this relationship, ruined, the band, ruined.
Lister let out a breathless laugh. “Holy shit, seriously?”
Jimmy stilled.
Then Lister emphatically said, “Yes. God, I’ve dreamt of you saying that.”
I want to make you cry, Jimmy thought, unbidden. He filed that away for some other time. He watched Lister closely as heat started to stir in his gut. Some part of him, he guessed, really didn’t think he would get this far.
“I have, um,” Lister reached over to his bedside drawer, “lube.”
Jimmy nodded. He sat back as Lister retrieved it, noticed the slight fumble in his fingers as he did so.
He was making him nervous. Jimmy felt sick at how much that excited him. He held Lister’s gaze as he handed him the bottle just to see if it would make him squirm.
“Have you done this before?” Lister asked as Jimmy popped the lid and poured some lube over his fingers.
“Mm-hmm.” He coated his two middle fingers and shifted further up the bed, sitting on his heels.
Lister’s gaze dragged down to the motion of his fingers, then back up to his face. “With who?” he prompted gently.
Jimmy flashed him a grin. “Jealous?”
“Yes,” Lister shot back, unabashed.
Jimmy weighed his options. He crawled closer to Lister, who pulled his knees up without instruction. Jimmy wondered how many times Lister had played this out in his head. He wondered how many times he had done this for someone else.
“Myself,” Jimmy answered honestly. “I wanted to see if it was something I enjoyed, to see if it could be an alternative to, um… I just didn’t like the idea of using my…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Lister gave him a small nod of understanding.
“That was years ago, anyway,” Jimmy continued. “I’m less freaked out by the thought of it now.”
Why am I reassuring him?
Lister shrugged. “Hey, if you’re into this, we don’t ever need to do it any other way.”
Jimmy lowered his gaze. This friends-with-benefits arrangement was a terrible, terrible idea. Jimmy craved this kind of understanding and compatibility so badly it hurt.
He placed a hand on Lister’s knee. With his other, he pressed a fingertip to Lister’s entrance.
Glanced up to check in. Lister was biting his lip, watching the place where their bodies connected. He met Jimmy’s eyes.
“Keep going,” he encouraged, so quiet. It was one of those moments that convinced you the other person’s heart was beating in tandem with your own.
Jimmy pressed his fingertip inside, pulled out, dipped it back in. Just easing him open. Then, gradually, he sank his finger in to the knuckle, marvelling at how Lister’s body seemed to swallow him.
“Feeling alright?” Jimmy asked.
“Mmm,” Lister groaned.
He pulled out, then sank back in. Still slow, but faster than before. It was like this for the first few pulses, as he let Lister adjust to the feeling.
He started a steady rhythm. A high, breathy sound exited Lister’s throat.
Jimmy bent down and took Lister’s cock back in his mouth.
Lister moaned, “Oh, god.”
Jimmy was slow with his mouth as his attention was divided. He focused on gauging when Lister would be relaxed enough to take another finger.
Above him, Lister’s breath came in short, stifled bursts. Jimmy pulled off him and twisted to retrieve the lube. He was quick to add some more to his ring finger. Drew back. Squeezed the tip of both fingers inside.
This time he was met with more resistance. “Doing okay?” Jimmy asked, shallowly thrusting his fingers in and out to spread him.
“Yeah,” Lister breathed. “God, you’re being so nice about this. I’m falling to pieces here.”
Jimmy huffed out a laugh. He pressed in further, pulsed in and out a few times before curling his fingers experimentally.
Lister jolted. Jimmy felt it in his wrist before he saw it with his eyes. “Is that…?” He trailed off.
“Yeah, fucking Christ.” Lister laughed. “Do that again.”
Jimmy did. A pleased, throaty noise exited Lister's lips.
Jimmy picked up speed, back to the rhythm he’d had before. He curled his free hand round the base of Lister’s cock and licked over the head.
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” Lister cried. “Oh, god that’s good.”
The sounds coming out of Lister were obscene. He seemed utterly unaware of himself, devolving into a whimpering mess on Jimmy’s fingers. So lost, he couldn’t bring himself to form words, and tapped the side of Jimmy’s head in warning as he came close to orgasm.
Jimmy worked him through it, appreciating the way Lister’s come painted his stomach. The sheen of sweat coating his inner thighs, the sides of his neck, his forehead. Lister had the back of his hand pressed there, eyes closed as he breathed in and out. He was flushed completely red and had never seemed so pliable to Jimmy.
He withdrew. Lister complained about the loss. Jimmy retreated to the ensuite to wash off his hands. When he returned, Lister’s face was turned into the pillows. Jimmy crawled into the spot beside him.
Lister's eyes slid open and he reached for Jimmy. He pulled him close and murmured, “You’re crazy. That was amazing.”
Jimmy let himself be peppered with kisses. He nodded when Lister promised he would return the favour, just let him rest for a few minutes. Lister tucked his face into the crook of Jimmy’s neck and Jimmy wrapped his arms around him.
You’re mine now, he thought. Another one to be filed away. As they lay there, Lister snuggled up against his collarbone, Jimmy confronted for the first time that he wasn’t going to put a stop to this. He wanted it, his body wanted it. His better judgement wasn't even in the building.
And God, not a single part of him cared.