Jem Russell lurks in the doorway, half-afraid to enter. Jack’s so still, so pale in the Maynard marital bed. The light from the window accentuates the black shadows under his closed eyes, the cheekbones that are accentuated by the accident. He’s also unshaven – shaving not being exactly at the top of the average invalid’s priority list – and Jem secretly loves how that looks on the young man - different and unexpectedly rugged and so beautiful that Jem can’t stand it. His hesitation entirely gone, he approaches the bed, carefully closing the door behind him. It doesn’t lock, but he knows the closed door will give them sufficient privacy.

“Jem,” Jack’s awake, and the name sounds like a caress. Jem shivers as he stands next to the bed, looking down. He slowly rubs his fingers over Jack's cheek, mindful of the bandages.

“Hush,” he says, gently. Then, even more softly, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” Jack grins, for a second his old self entirely, despite the pain marring his oh-so-familiar features.

“I would never try.” Jem smiles in answer.

They don’t need to waste time on words; each knows how the other feels. They’ve been friends for many years and something deeper than friendship; something private that nobody knows about and no-one would ever guess.

They’ve always been careful.

Nobody would even begin to suspect.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” Jem asks, the lover mixing with the doctor. Jack frowns, considering. He knows what he wants, but he also knows how precarious a position they’re in, with Madge and Joey downstairs. Who knows if Jo will bounce in, still so much a schoolgirl, and now delirious with happiness, as if to check he’s still here and not a dream?

“Bed bath?” Jem prompts, grinning himself.

Jack nods, wincing when it hurts his head. Jem’s hand on his forehead feels cold and capable and makes him shiver. It’s been so long since he felt his lover’s touch.

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Don't cry, eat a cake
Chalet School Big Bang - writers, artists, mixers
"Women who pay their own rent don't have to be nice" - Katherine Dunn

This is going to be awesome, if it goes to where I think it's going. It makes a lot of sense!

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~Frank was always engaged~

Oooooh intriguing! Looking forward to seeing where this goes.

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Gemberta Tallulah Cosmina - also known as 'Dinosaurs only roam when the high noon sun hits the glinting exponential glimmering magicness that would be the hypothetical heaven'.

Jack lies still as he hears voices, Jem’s laugh and then answering laughter from his wife and her sister. He’s fetching some water and washing things. Jack feels his skin hum from the tension.

“I hope you aren’t running a temp.” Jem comments, as he pulls the blankets away and unbuttons Jack’s pyjama jacket, leaving his chest bare. “You’re shivering.”

“Can you blame me?” Jack whispers, leaning back against the pillows, his throat exposed, Adam’s apple twitching in anticipation.

In answer, Jem gently slides the soap down Jack’s chest, his strong hands so capable yet with the merest hint of the potential for intimacy, his fingers entwining in the blond hair on Jack’s chest. He ignores the sponge, the urge to touch Jack too strong; intermittently dampening his hands in the small bowl of water he’s brought in. Jack remains still; his breathing deepening as Jem’s hands caress his nipples. Jem takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him and the intoxication of the younger man’s acquiescence. For a moment he gives thanks that Jack came back to him.

Jack groans, softly. Jem stops his ministrations, looking into Jack’s eyes. The pleasure is unmistakable; his pupils dilated, pleading words on his lips, barely contained. Jem is actually surprised by the strength of his reaction, but it’s been a long time. He has some idea of the nights Jack’s spent at sea, thinking of this moment. God knows, he’s had similar nights himself.

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Don't cry, eat a cake
Chalet School Big Bang - writers, artists, mixers
"Women who pay their own rent don't have to be nice" - Katherine Dunn

Ooh, there's nothing like a bit of H/C sexytimes...

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dont ever tell me
insects are any more liberal
than humans

Thanks all

“Don’t stop, please,” Jack’s whimpers break the silence. Jem can’t help himself, he bends down to silence him with an urgent kiss; then presses smaller, softer kisses to his face. Jack’s eyes close and Jem can no longer see the almost-desperate, almost-primal need, although his whole body is tense with wanting and desire and his self-control.

Jem reflects on the feeling of power of having Jack like this. It's intoxicating and exacerbating his own desire.

Christ, how I've missed this, he thinks, shoving his tongue deep into Jack’s hot, willing mouth, the bowl of shallow water splashing onto the floor. He pauses to move it to safety and Jack cries out again, attempting to grab his shirt and draw him closer.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jem smiles against Jack’s neck, running his teeth against his exposed throat for the pure pleasure of feeling Jack buck against him uncontrollably. “And neither are you.”

“Please...” Jack begs.

“Tell me what you want,” Jem’s voice is hoarse.

“I want – I want you to touch me...” It’s too much for Jack, Jem notes with a hint of regret. Usually he would make his lover describe their acts in full, enjoying being in control and hearing the words fall from Jack’s lips. Now, regretfully, he puts his finger against Jack’s mouth, quieting him. Jack tenses again, afraid he’s done something wrong.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” Jem murmurs.

“I love you too,” Jack chokes out, his long fingers reaching to unzip Jem’s trousers. “I’ll show you how much.”

“No you won’t,” Jem smiles. “Not tonight, anyway. I’ve got other ideas.”

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Don't cry, eat a cake
Chalet School Big Bang - writers, artists, mixers
"Women who pay their own rent don't have to be nice" - Katherine Dunn

Beautifully written! What other ideas would they be then?

*looks innocent and naive*

*spoils it by spluttering*

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The CBB makes me feel bouncy
There is a fine line between recklessness and courage. It's about time you understood which road to take (Paul McCartney)

Jem’s hand finds Jack’s thighs, sticky with sweat and trembling. A few exploratory touches there has Jack almost frantic. Jem smiles, enjoying the sight, and runs the tip of his tongue around his own lips, aware of Jack’s eyes taking in the gesture and the message he’s conveying.

“Oh, God,” Jack doesn’t know if he can last much longer. It’s been months since he was last in Jem’s mouth and the memory alone is almost enough to make him climax right there and then.

“Patience,” Jem teases, but he knows Jack and he knows when he’s close.

“I can’t – it’s been too long,” Jack pants.

“I know. I’m here now,” Jem pulls down Jack’s pyjama bottoms with some difficulty, smirks at the sight of the younger man’s excitement.

He judges he can nibble Jack’s ear, rubbing the entire length of his body against that of his lover. Jack makes a sound of pleasure that sounds barely human, so worked up that the sounds of his pleasure go straight to stimulate Jem’s own cock.

Jem moves down from Jack’s neck, liking and sucking down his chest until he reaches his prize. Jack’s hands come up, one gripping Jem’s shoulder, the other entangling in Jem’s hair, mindless and abandoned. He can’t keep still although he tries to suppress the sounds he makes as much as he can; ever mindful of their wives downstairs.

“You’re all mine,” Jem says; throatily, and takes Jack into his mouth, delicately then with more force, his own hand flung up to cover Jack’s mouth as Jack really can’t control himself anymore and Jem doesn’t want him screaming. Well he does, it’s the best sound he could ever hear; but not here where they can be discovered.

It doesn’t take long; Jack’s too excited. He arches, screaming against Jem’s hand, but Jem keeps sucking, forcing Jack’s hips to stay where they are.

He feels Jack relax and exhale, then removes his hand from Jack’s mouth. Jack’s weeping, silently. Jem swallows, enjoying the bitter taste that in his darkest moments he expected never to taste again.

Mindful that Jack’s still weak from his head injury and this really isn’t the most conventional treatment, Jem reluctantly moves away, back onto his haunches on the bed. Jack’s wiping away the tears from his face, but Jem knows it’s the release, not sorrow. He himself has never felt so much exquisite joy.

_________________
Don't cry, eat a cake
Chalet School Big Bang - writers, artists, mixers
"Women who pay their own rent don't have to be nice" - Katherine Dunn

“Kiss me,” Jack pants, close to exhaustion. He licks Jem’s mouth, tasting himself inside. Both of them are breathing heavily; their hearts still racing from their intimacy and Jack feels ridiculously weak, but he can’t let Jem remain unsatisfied himself. He manoeuvres the older man onto the bed next to him then reaches down to rub against Jem’s hard cock; stroking in an increasing rhythm. It doesn’t take long; Jem’s still excited from Jack’s excitement and soon he’s coming, the hot sticky wetness covering Jack’s hand and bare stomach, his gasps like sweet music in his ear.

A few more precious moments in each other’s arms, then reluctantly Jem has to tear himself away. His clean up job is quick and perfunctory and he has to deal with himself as well as his patient.

“Welcome home,” he whispers, wickedly, as he replaces the covers over a breathless but smiling Jack, and whistling to himself, takes his reluctant leave. Madge and Jo will have tea ready. Perhaps he’ll take Jack’s tray up himself afterwards.

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Don't cry, eat a cake
Chalet School Big Bang - writers, artists, mixers
"Women who pay their own rent don't have to be nice" - Katherine Dunn

Lucky Jack. What a welcome home.

Jack seems to have the best of both worlds there lol.

Thank you Mia!! Worth breaking my self-imposed CBBbreak!

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'Mary-Lou covered the last part of her journey in a series of goatlike leaps that landed her almost on top of them, drawing a protest from Tony of "Here! Look out, you moke!"' Three Go to the CS p15.

Thanks Mia... I had never pictured Jack and Jem like that but it was inspired.

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Never trust anything, if you can't see where it keeps it's brain!

"Nothing happens unless first a dream." Carl Sandburg (1878 - 1967)

Thanks, Mia. That was brilliant to read.

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Margia Stevens even peeped inquiringly into the great jar where the flour was kept. Needless to state, no Jo was there. (Jo of)

Wow! Just come back to the CBB, what a great story! Thanks Mia!

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Phil