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Christmas AU set between S4 and S5, in which Catherine never left, Spider never died and Marcus is also still alive because I miss him. Absolutely not canon-compliant in any way. Not to be taken seriously under any circumstances. Also, NSFW. Merry Christmas!
The rattling sound of the broken kettle filled the second-floor kitchenette with life. Catherine Standish carefully took it of its heating plate and distributed the contents into several cups.
“I dare say, I’m afraid that’s a lost cause.” She said, “Mulled wine in a kettle. I left for five minutes, really, just five minutes, and this is what you come up with.” As if to underline her statement, the sad kitchen appliance gave a sigh.
“Pretty sure it was already written off. Y’know, after Dander threw it down the staircase.” The looming presence of Coe in the corner of the kitchenette had used to startle her, but she’d grown quite accustomed to it over time. Just this once, though, she wished he’d provide a helping hand instead of brooding in the corner. Through the blinds, Catherine could see the moving shadows of River and Louisa in their office, pushing chairs and desks to the side to create a makeshift lounge. Louisas desk was cleared for the awaiting buffet.
“You know,” said Catherine, “I think it’s a rather nice idea, this Christmas get-together.” The idea had, in fact, come from Lamb himself, although he’d undoubtedly been taking the piss. Louisa, Catherine and Shirley however had swiftly declared it a mandatory team building exercise, in hopes of drowning the unavoidable Christmas loneliness in mulled wine (and in one case, chamomile tea) on the clock. Said team consisted of Catherine herself, Louisa, Shirley, Coe, River, Roddy Ho, Lamb and James Webb, who’d taken Marcus’ spot in the first floor office. Marcus himself had been invited, but politely declined. Still in physical rehab, he’d decided to step away from the service to spend time with his family. A decision Catherine fully understood and supported, if anyone were to ask.
———————————————
“Let’s get this over with.” River mumbled. The last year hadn’t exactly been easy for him - life never was when one was a slow horse, but the last year in particular had fucked him up the arse - and he wasn’t keen on spending more time than necessary in the office. Louisa he was fond of, he considered her a friend, and he was grateful for Catherine, generally, but the rest of the group was not exactly a circle of people he wanted to spend much time with. Especially not one James Webb, who had appeared on Slough Houses door step one day, letter from Diana Taverner in hand and a pretty noticeable scar on his forehead. Neither of them were happy with the arrangement, but it had come to second desks attention that he just knew to much to not be on the service payroll. Truth was, River had been quite relieved upon finding out his former friend had, in fact, survived the incident at Anna Livia’s. He’d wished a thousand things upon him, but death had never been one of them.
“It’s not going to be that bad, c’mon. The alternative would have been work.” Louisa smiled softly and carefully began to climb on an office chair, string and scissors in hand. River held it by the arm rests to steady her and sceptically watched as she fixed what looked like dried herbs to a ceiling lamp. “They were sold out of mistletoe.” She explained apologetically. River grumbled a response. He appreciated the effort, he really did, but he’d rather be at home nonetheless. Even though there was nothing worth going home for waiting there for him.
—————————————————
James sat in an office chair and slowly spun in a circle. He eyed the half-empty cup of cold mulled wine in his hand. It was his second, and he wasn’t particularly able to hold his drinks after his medical odyssey. The lights were off, the office was dimly lit by some string lights and a dried out Christmas tree that hung slumped over in a corner, someone had put on Christmas music and the low hum of general conversation filled the room. It could almost pass as an average office Christmas party. Mainly because of the alcohol, James assumed. He watched Roddy Ho - a rather despicable human being - lecturing J.K. Coe on a video game James knew nothing about. Coe looked as indifferent and unresponsive as ever, but not actively trying to end conversation was as good as it could get for Roddy, and it was more about listening to himself talk anyways. On the other side of the room, Cartwright, Dander and Guy had congregated to argue over what appeared to be a game of fuck, marry, kill taken very seriously. Even Jackson Lamb himself had briefly graced the group with his presence and odour, assumingly to generously fill his cup with mulled wine and his pockets with biscuits before disappearing again. Near the haphazard buffet, which consisted mainly of various Tesco goods from the clearance aisle, stood Catherine Standish, sipping on some tea. She was a kind woman, too kind for this work environment, and James had more than once pondered why she was here after all. She’d threatened him with a gun once. He respected that. Spinning once more, he downed the rest of his wine. When he put his cup down again, Catherine was standing next to him. She must have caught him looking at her. A kind smile tugged at her lips.
“Enjoying the evening, Mr. Webb?” She asked. He was still Mr. Webb to her, even after almost a year at Slough House. He suspected she did it to make him feel at least slightly important. Catherine Standish had a way of reading people. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“Yeah, yeah.” He said. He could hear the effect of the alcohol in his voice, it wasn’t much, but it would be noticeable to a trained ear. Such as a recovered alcoholic, for example.
“Are you feeling alright?” She asked.
“Yeah, yeah.” He said again and dared to look her in the eyes. Finding nothing but honest interest in them, he felt encouraged to continue.
“I’ve just been … thinking … it’s quite remarkable how many people I know that have been in a coma, myself included, you know. Wasn’t exactly on the job application for the service.” He gave a half hearted laugh. “Longridge, Nick Duffy, the lovely Sidonie - may she rest in peace - it’s just … bit much, isn't it?” He could swear up and down he was not a sentimental person, not if he could help it, but Standish had a way of just listening that made it incredibly hard to follow through with repressing ones emotions.
“I understand.” She answered kindly and thought for a moment, before continuing, “If it helps, perhaps, try to think of it like a second chance at life, rather than - you know.” He knew. A before and after, an end of some sort, a point of no return, only downhill from here kind of thing. His eyes wandered to River Cartwright, who’d just very loudly declared he’d fuck James Bond, marry Sherlock Holmes and kill George Smiley, which in return sparked discourse amongst the group which Bond and Holmes it would have to be respectively. Something in his chest ached. He blamed the wine.
“I’m afraid I’m long past second chances.” He replied. Catherine had turned her head and followed his eyes. Her understanding remained unspoken, and he was grateful for that.
——————————
The clock struck midnight not soon after. It was now officially December 24th and River thought, Merry fucking Christmas, what are we even doing here. He’d had a few too many for his own liking. Not that he was drunk, no, but he was tipsy, and that was almost worse, because it was that stage of drinking where one could have bad ideas and still be fit enough to follow through on them. The Christmas music had turned into 80s dance hits some time ago, which had urged Shirley and Louisa to reluctantly open up an official dance floor on the dirty carpet. Lamb had long left and was presumably snoring on the couch upstairs and just now, Catherine was saying her goodbyes, visibly in need of a good nights sleep. River smiled and waved at her, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“She’s nice, isn’t she.” A voice said next to him. It was Spider, who’d risen from the office chair he’d been sitting in for the past hours and made his way over to River. From the looks of it, he wasn’t sober, either.
“Yeah, yeah, she is.” River replied, not bothering to look at him. In his periphery vision, Webb just nodded and remained silent. As short as it was, this might have just been the most civil conversation they’d had in years. He sighed. It hadn’t always been that way. He remembered a Spider who, in their training days, had been great company in the barracks after a hard day of work. Not that he’d been overly fond of being in the barracks, receiving military grade training in the expected harsh atmosphere, but he’d been a good mate for the occasional after work drink, card game or movie night. The usual things one did with one’s mates. Some had even called them inseparable, River remembered. But then, Webb had burned that bridge with betrayal, and River had vowed to never cross the charred remains again. Since Spiders arrival in Slough House, they’d been as hostile as expected, whenever they were in the same room bickering and snappy insults commenced, though weirdly, River couldn’t describe the status quo as hatred, even if he tried. They took some sort of pride in their hostility and the bickering. Not that they were particularly fond of each other - absolutely not - but their rivalry had turned into some sort of disdainful ritual that neither of them dared to break.
“I get why you hold a grudge, you know.” Webb spoke again.
“Oh, do you now?”
“Yeah. This place is awful. Would suck to be you, stuck here for the rest of your life.” He said contemptuously.
“Our lives, you mean.” River replied, though there was no satisfaction in knowing they’d be suffering a shared fate for a long while.
“Oh, no. You see, Taverner wanted me in the service again. Personally. It’s only a matter of time until Regent’s Park calls.” Spider sounded quite contempt. But River wasn’t sure if he meant it or just wanted to save himself from embarrassment. James Webb wasn’t exactly very readable, usually. He was great at charades, River had to give him that.
“Yeah, I once thought that, too.” Was the answer he opted for. “By the way, my grudge has got nothing to do with Slough House. It’s just, you know, that you’re a complete and utter cunt. That’s what that is.” He added.
“Ouch, that’s told me.” Spider didn’t sound hurt at all.
Therefore, River felt the need to clarify: “Yeah, mate, that’s not a compliment.”
“I don’t particularly like you, you know.” Webb said, “We’ve had our fair share of differences. But I gotta say, I don’t hate you either. You make the days go by quicker, believe it or not. It’s always great to have someone around who’s got it just so much worse than you, y’know. Very uplifting.” It was the alcohol speaking, without a doubt, mixed with a good amount of shitty Christmas spirit, but all River heard somehow was that Spider enjoyed having him around, and he didn’t like how that sounded in his head. Furthermore, he didn’t like that sensation in his chest. Something he once said to Louisa came to mind, we were friends, once. Louisa had said he’d used him, and to some degree she’d - of course - been right, but what had started out as a mere alliance had become something most people called friendship over time. Webb had never said it, but it had been painstakingly obvious he’d established the contact in hopes of profiting from Rivers nepotism. It had, however, become imminently clear that no trainer, no drill sergeant and no agent gave a good damn about his last name. River had felt that more than anyone - although the OB had warned him to expect that - but it had turned out rather quickly that he didn’t need his grandfathers legacy to excel in training after all, because he simply was good. And Spider had somehow stuck around even without profiting from any connections or receiving any special treatment. As far as River had been concerned, that was friendship. Granted, his expectations had never been high in that field, but he’d been glad to have friend. Even though said friend had shown a good amount of rivalry, even jealousy, when River had started to overtake his peers in almost every class and every exercise.
“Do you think of Exmoor, sometimes?” He asked, without thinking. The training facilities of both MI5 and MI6 were near the national park, with Wales just on the other side of the Bristol Channel. An ideal location for exercise in any terrain and collaborations with their neighbouring forces. He remembered - not too fondly - having to jump out of a helicopter once, into the freezing waters of the channel. Finally, Webb turned to face him.
“Fuck, no.” he exclaimed with a huff. “Well, I mean - sometimes. I guess.” He added after a moment of consideration. He knew, of course, what River had meant by it: Do you miss our friendship, sometimes?
“Yeah, me too.” River admitted. He made a mental note to never drink alcohol in the vicinity of James Webb again. He was already one for sentimentality, and the look on the other mans face didn’t help. His head began to spin just a little.
“Hey, Spider, ceasefire ’til new years?” He offered suddenly, and jokingly held out his hand. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered Webb shaking it for the first time, years ago.
“Only if you don’t call me that.” He replied and, to both mens surprise, took Rivers hand to shake it. Somewhere deep in his chest, there was that feeling again that River didn’t like. He tried to ignore it. Judging by Webbs expression, he didn’t manage well.
“Well look at us. Christmas Truce. Getting sentimental, River?” The faintest lines of a smile were visible on is face.
“Dunno, are you, James?” River answered, realising just then that he hadn’t called Webb by his first name in years.
—————————————
At almost 1a.m., the door to Slough House fell shut. Coe and Shirley had left earlier and Ho had gone downstairs to his office, presumably spending the remainder of the night with video games. Louisa, River and James were the last to leave. James watched as the other two embraced in an awkward hug to say goodbye. They wouldn’t be in office over Christmas, and as the holidays were followed by a weekend, they got to enjoy some much needed days off.
“We are not doing new years in this place.” He heard River say and Guy replied,
“Yeah, I know a bar nearby, much better choice. We’ll see next week. Merry Christmas!” With that, she raised her hand, not quite high enough to actually wave, and went on her merry way. James and River followed soon after, closing the gate behind them.
“How are you getting home?” Cartwright asked awkwardly, evidently not wanting to walk in silence, as if it would have made it any less weird.
“Tube.” James just said, “I don’t drink and drive.” Truth was, he didn’t even have a car at the moment, but River didn’t need to know that.
“Role model, I see.” Said River, and smiled. James couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen River Cartwright smile. It must have been some time before Stansted, probably in the canteen at the park. To his own surprise, he found himself missing those days. Truth be told, he thought about River a lot. The thoughts varied, from rivalry to jealousy to a friendship long gone, but River had been on his mind for a long time. He didn’t like the jump his heart did at the realisation.
They sat on the tube in silence, a free seat between them out of courtesy. The train car wasn’t empty, but only very few lost souls were out and about at one in the morning on Christmas. James would exit at Paddington while River would have to continue his journey for a while, he’d wish him happy holidays and not speak to him again until after new years, and that was that. Bickering was a territory he was much more comfortable with. Just as the monotone TFL voice announced the next stop - Paddington - and reminded them to speak to a member of staff or text British Transport police, a thought shot through his mind and he sat up straight in his seat.
“Fuck!” He groaned. “Oh, god damnit.”
“What is it?” Cartwright asked, alarmed.
“My bag. It’s still in the office.” He’d neatly placed it next to the chair he’d been sitting in.
“So? You’ll get it on Monday. Nobody’ll break into that shithole. Also, Lamb’s probably there. I don’t even know if he has a home.” River mused as the train slowed down in its approach to Paddington station.
“Yeah, no, my flat keys were in there.” James said plainly and watched the realisation slowly creep onto Rivers face. Fucking great, he thought, could there be a more miserable way to spend Christmas than sleeping in the lobby of your own apartment building?
“You could crash at my place.” River offered. Apparently there could. The doors of the tube car rattled open and James was in the position to make a split second decision. The alcohol was not working in his favour.
“Yeah, ok, fine. It’ll do.” He said at regretted it promptly as the doors snapped shut again.
—————————-
River unlocked the door to his apartment and it opened with a squeak. It was a small space, not necessarily tidy, but not dirty either. Just a small, lived in flat. With the right touch, it could even be cozy, he was sure. The small plastic Christmas tree in the corner did its best to add a warm touch, with considerable success. The door opened directly into the living room. It fell shut behind them as he kicked his shoes off.
“Feel right at home, mate.” He said awkwardly. Not that he’d ever had a girl over to this place, but he imagined this was what it must feel like. He didn’t like it. He watched as Spiders eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on an armchair in the corner.
“Nice place.” He said, with a mocking undertone, but evidently doing his best to fulfil his part of the treaty.
“Yeah, um, so I don’t actually have a couch, unfortunately, just this,” River gestured towards the armchair, “But you can - uh - feel free to … right there.”
“Absolutely not, my back would kill me.” Webb replied.
“Well, I’m not sleeping there, either.” River stated. “But I do - I do have double bed.” A beat of silence followed. Then, eight seconds of charged eye contact.
“Fuck it, I’m too tired.” Said James and made his way to where he assumed the bedroom would be. It was mutually agreed on that they would never speak of this.
After both of them had awkwardly opted to take a shower - tube rides did that to one - River had tossed James a shirt to borrow and they’d settled on opposite ends of the bed, far enough that a third person could have easily had a good nights sleep between them. They’d shared rooms before, even bunks, and they’d almost certainly napped on each other more than once in-between classes back in Exmoor, but somehow, River felt nervous.
“Right. Good night, then.” He said and James hummed in approval. Shortly afterwards, they came to the conclusion that hanging halfway off the bed would do no good to their sleeping schedule and scooched inwards in unison. Even though they still kept their distance, River was suddenly very aware of the warmth radiating of Spiders body underneath the blanket. He listened to his soft breathing in the dark. It was clear he wasn’t sleeping, either.
“Just like the old days, huh.” River joked and earned an anxious laugh.
“I guess.” James answered. They lay in silence for a few more minutes.
Some time later, Spider shuffled around and his hand came to rest next to Rivers wrist, who lay on the mattress like a pharaoh in his sarcophagus, eager to not disturb the other man. The gentle touch of his fingers against Rivers beneath the blanket felt almost reassuring, for some reason. River thought it to be an accident, but he didn’t pull his hand away. James didn’t either. In Rivers mind, a memory floated to the surface.
“Come on, Webb, truth or dare.” Said the guy next to River, grinning conspicuously. His name was Trevor, they shared a few classes and had decided today was a great day to get drunk after class with some fellow trainees. They were well into a light-hearted game of truth and dare, and equally well into a bottle of Jack Daniels. Amongst River, Trevor and James, there were Chris, Robert and Dennis, they sat in a circle on the ground in the common room.
“Truth.” Said Spider, “C’mon, gimme a good one!” Across from him, Trevor leaned forward and tilted his head.
“Don’t think too hard mate, your brain might catch fire!” Teased Chris and downed another shot. The room erupted in laughter.
“Oh, no, I know, I know!” Trevor perked up, satisfied with his question and continued. “Out of the people in this room, who’d you fuck?” A sly grin tugged at his mouth as he raised his eyebrows.
“Uh, obviously no one. C’mon, Trev, you couldn’t do any better than that?” James rolled his eyes.
“No, no - you have to pick one, you have to!” His mate insisted, and James and River briefly locked eyes.
“Fine. Cartwright. It would be Cartwright. Over my dead fucking body, though.”
A collective “Oouuhhh” rose from the group, culminating in a fit of laughter once more.
“Alright, River, mate, your turn.” Said Webb, still not breaking eye contact.
Rivers breath hitched, just ever so slightly. Still, neither of them had drawn away. Courtesy of not being sober, most likely. James’ fingers hesitantly drew lazy circles on the back of his hand, indicating he, too, was awake. Rivers hand was still just resting by his hip, he was laying there stiff as a board, not knowing wether he should let on that he wasn’t sleeping either. Gently, he felt James’ knuckles nudge his hips as he shifted his hand fully over to Rivers side of the bed. His touch was warm, almost welcoming, and River decided to reciprocate it. Carefully, he moved his thumb just a little, finding soft skin. Spider paused in his movement and for a moment, River expected a snarky comment as the other man withdrew his hand. Instead, however, James shifted his weight to lean in a little closer. His hand came to rest on River again, this time on his hip, just below the hem of his shirt. River swallowed as he felt the fabric of his shirt being gently pushed up, James’ warm hand sliding beneath it ever so slightly. He hesitated.
“Tell me to stop.” He whispered, sincerely.
River shook his head, then realised Spider couldn’t see it. “It’s fine.” He said, though it was much more than just fine, he didn’t want James to stop, not under any circumstances, and it greatly confused him.
Spider hummed a “Mh-mhm.” And then added, “Just let me know.” River nodded again, disregarding the fact that it was too dark around them for the other man to see it. James drew closer, resting his head on Rivers shoulder. Finally, River relaxed. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had expected Spider to draw back and make fun of him, some sort of cruel joke, but as James turned his head, he could feel his warm breath on his cheek, tense with every movement. Spider was nervous, too. River slowly turned is head to rest it against James’ as encouragement, and against all judgement, felt weirdly safe in the moment. More than that, James’ touch felt nice on his skin, reassuring even. He allowed himself to breathe, feeling Spiders hand heavy on his stomach. Hesitatingly, it wandered lower, until his fingers tugged at Rivers waistband. Suddenly, it was much more than just nice, Rivers body reacted to the touch just as one would expect it, and undoubtedly, James must have felt the fabric beneath his fingers shift. He hesitated again. River didn’t want him to.
“Yes.” He whispered, loud and clear enough for Spider to hear. It was all he needed to slip his fingers beneath the waistband. At first they just rested there, but slowly, James gained the confidence to slide is hand lower. River, almost embarrassed by how hard he was, held his breath. He released the air sharply when James’ hand found its target, slowly wrapping his fingers around him. Next to him, Spider held his breath, too. With a gentle touch, he brought his hand down. River bit his lip to silence a moan. Very hesitantly, he began to find a rhythm, dragging his hand up and down lazily, to test the waters. It send a shudder down Rivers spine. He was sure that James, head still resting on his shoulder, could feel it. He responded with a firmer grip that had River arch his back involuntarily. It had been a very long time since he’d been touched like this. James continued working his hand up and down, and River began to meet his fist with shallow thrusts. Biting back another moan, he stilled.
“James,” he whispered, and it sounded borderline close to a whimper, “I need more. Please.” James obliged happily. He sat up, pushing both Rivers boxers and the blanket back. A gush of cold air hit River and he shivered, longing to be touched again. Somewhere outside, a car passed, lighting up the room through the curtains for mere seconds. James’ hair was a mess already, his cheeks red from nervousness and his eyes dark with lust.
“Since you asked so nicely.” He responded with a hoarse voice and as he moved downwards, River could feel his arousal on his thighs. It was dark again, and James took him by complete surprise, hot breath briefly hitting his hip, just before River felt his tongue on him. A moan escaped him, this time not held back, as Spider took him in his mouth.
“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath, “Oh, fuck!” James hummed in response. It sent shock waves through River, who was quite certain he had never felt this good before in his life. James moved around, licked and sucked, a little clumsy but eager to please. River was quite unsure wether he’d ever done this before. He had the courtesy not to ask. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to, for all that came over his lips were moans and whimpers. He must sound so pathetic, he thought, but Spider seemed to like it. He moaned against him and River almost saw stars. His hands found James’ hair, gently tugging.
“Oh, please!” He whispered out of breath, not even knowing what he was begging for, “Oh please, oh please!” Suddenly, James let go of him. Before River could complain, his mouth was replaced by his hand again, this time gliding with ease. He arched his back again, meeting James’ hand with each thrust.
“Feels so good.” He mumbled “Fuck, I’m so -” he began, but was cut off by James’ lips on his, catching him by surprise in an eager kiss. He opened his mouth, letting the other man deepen the kiss, James whimpered. It was enough to push River over the edge. He came with a moan over James’ hand, arching his back even further, every muscle in his body was on fire, stars dancing in front of his eyes. Spider broke the kiss to allow him to catch his breath.
“Yes,” he whispered, “Good boy, River, good”, continuing to lazily stroke him.
“Fucking hell.” Said River, pushing the realisation aside that James Webb had just called him a good boy. “Fu-cking-hell.” He took a deep breath. Next to him, James wiped his hand on something and River prayed to all gods he could think of that it hadn’t been the bed sheet. After they both settled again, laying on their backs, he decided to turn the light on his bedside table on. Thankfully it was dimmable. In the low orange glow of the lamp, Spider turned his head towards him. His lips were swollen, his cheeks puffy and red and his hair a terrible mess. He looked incredibly hot. So much so, that River suddenly felt the urge to repay the favour tenfold. It must’ve translated to his face, because Spider cocked his head with an amused expression.
“It’s your turn.” River said, his voice shaking a little too much for his liking. “Unless - only if you - of course..” He added hastily.
“Shut up.” Was the only answer he got before he was embraced in another kiss. This time, Spider pulled him closer, until they were on top of each other, panting and moaning against each other’s lips. River broke the kiss for a moment to look at James’ face. He looked up at him with wide eyes, the colour of a stormy sea. River could not detect any hatred in them, nor disdain or spite.
“You have beautiful eyes, you know.” He said before he could stop himself and James had the audacity to fucking laugh. River decided it best to shut him up with another kiss. The laugh turned into a moan and Spider bucked his hips up against him. It made River feel a little less embarrassed about how desperate he’d been, seeing that the other man shared his fate. “Shhhh.” He hissed with a smirk and captured James’ hands, pinning them above his head. James let out a surprised whine. It took River only one hand to hold him there, partially because he was stronger than James but most likely because Spider was into it, and his other hand wandered down his chest. It was decided in that very moment that both of them had too much fabric on their skin. Hastily, they both slipped out of their shirts and boxers an then returned to the previous position. James skin was burning hot against Rivers, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His mouth hung open as he panted and he eyed River carefully. “Tell me what you want.” Said River.
“Touch me.” Came the answer, pleading, “Please, touch me!” River obliged. James arched his back with a moan as Rivers hand found him. He was hard in his hand, yet the skin felt delicate and soft at the same time. River had never touched another man like this, but was very eager to make James feel good. Judging by the sounds he made, he was successful. He slowly moved his hand up and down James’ length, caressing him with his thumb on the upstroke. Spider bucked his hips to meet him halfway and threw his head back into the pillow with a silent moan. River took the opportunity to lean forward, nipping at his neck and sucking. James shivered beneath him.
“Oh, River, oh, fuck.” He panted and then added, out of breath, “Close, close!” River hummed against his neck and quickened his pace in response. He let go of James’ wrists and anchored his hand in Spiders hair instead. Immediately, James’ hands were on his back, scratching and hugging him closer. River tugged on his hair, hard, pulling his head back and leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“Come for me, James.” And Spider came with a cry of his name, shaking and shivering beneath him and spilling over Rivers hand. He kept his movements up, working him through it and feeling him twitch in his hand until it was too much for him too take. With another moan, James went limp beneath him, eyes rolling back in his head and his mouth open. River decided he wanted to see this again. And again, and again, and again.
“Fuck, fuck.” James cursed, out of breath, “Holy shit.” River deducted that for him, too, it had been a while. He slipped over to the side to give Spider some space to breathe, but was caught in the other mans arms, rolling them both over instead. James let out a surprised squeak, before allowing himself to collapse onto River, resting his head in the crook of his neck. Rivers hand found his hair again and began to lazily stroke it. He felt James twitch against his thigh. For a few minutes, they lay like this in silence, only interrupted by an occasional content “Hmmm”, River caressing James and James holding onto him. Slowly, the cold December air from Rivers badly isolated bedroom windows crept up on them.
“We should probably…” he whispered and James nodded against him.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right we should.” Slowly, they got up and made their way to the bathroom for a quick clean up. Upon return, River inspected the bed sheets and found them passable, shaking the blanket and pillows until they were fluffy again and then crawled underneath. A minute later, James emerged from the bathroom as well. They’d put their boxers back on but neither of them had bothered with a shirt. River watched as Spider slipped under the blanket on his side of the bed and stayed there, on his back, awkwardly staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Said River and pulled him closer by his arm. James let him. He also let River embrace him, slowly, bringing him back to the position they’d left in, with his head on Rivers shoulder and his arms around James.
“If you kiss me on the forehead, I will punch you.” James huffed, earning a chuckle from River.
“Noted.” He said. Then he added: “I, uh, I didn’t know you were, uh, gay. No judgement whatsoever, of course.”
“I’m not.” Said James, still in Rivers arms.
“Oh, oh, yeah, I’m not, either.” River answered quickly. A moment of silence passed, in which James felt particularly heavy on River. His skin was warm and soft, his breathing calm and steady. He seemed content. “You know, if this is a regular part of the ceasefire, I might be inclined to extend it.”
James chuckled. “I might be inclined to accept that offer.”
“We’re not gonna tell any-”
“No, no, absolutely not.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
River sighed and squeezed James in his arms. Spider responded with a purr.
“Merry Christmas, by the way.” He said.
“Merry Christmas.” River replied.
And for a brief moment, it seemed like the everything was alright.