Title: Jameson's Hands
Series: The Best Moves
Disclaimer: Wholly original work.
Summary: Ethan procrastinates.
Notes: _30kinks, 'hands' & 'mirror'
Ethan combed his fingers through his hair, making sure the expensive conditioner he insisted on had done its job. It had, almost too well. There would be nothing for him to con Robbie into doing later, unlike the old days growing up when Robbie would comb his hair out on Friday nights and make him feel like the most special and loved person on the planet.
He didnít want to crawl out of the shower yet - the day absolutely did not need to be faced. He wasnít scheduled to work and with both Jameson and Robbie away at their jobs, the only reason heíd decided to shower was that it was a good distraction from the things he was currently not doing.
Like finishing articles.
Knowing quite well that all of the Remote Transmissions writers had hilarious things they did when procrastinating on articles, Ethan didnít feel quite so bad about his shower. It was nothing compared to Mariettaís compulsive shaving or Rhynís secret obsession with Amazon.comís recommendation engine.
They all procrastinated, after all. They were human.
As he turned the water off, Ethan wished that he could think of something else to work on. He had three articles grasping at completion and yet each one kept nagging at him, wanting a re-write and certainly not giving up any sort of rational ending.
Slipping out of the shower, Ethan slid over to crack the bathroom door. If there was anything he rather didnít like about the condo, it had to be the absolute lack of a bathroom vent. Steam coated everything with a layer of condensation, leaving even the tile floor feeling damp and slippery where the bathmat ended.
Ethan grabbed his towel, reaching to wipe off the full-length mirror on the wall instead of drying himself. Other than his hair, he had no problem dripping dry, after all. And the mirror - it was a pain to keep clean. Mirrors that large, in his opinion, rarely belonged in bathrooms. Except for anyone who got off on bodily functions.
Running through a quick list in his head, Ethan tried not to think of anyone he knew that would. Heíd had that sort of thought before but it just wasnít his thing. And certainly not Jamesonís.
The bathroom floor looked a little dirty. Served him right for having a white bathroom, after all. The tile...
No, he was just avoiding those articles again.
But the bathroom would be cleaned. There was certainly nothing wrong with a clean bathroom. The articles could wait. They...
On his hands and knees on the bathmat, Ethan glanced up at his reflection. He pushed away his bangs, watching his reflection for a moment before smiling.
"Floor can wait," Ethan said softly as he shifted to sit and lean against the edge of the bathtub. "Articles... can wait."
He wished that Jameson was home, his hands a thousand times more pleasurable than his own as he stroked himself to full arousal. With his eyes closed, he could pretend it was Jameson, hands warm on him as he leaned back against the man he loved and not the cool porcelain of the tub.
Jamesonís hands had gotten so good at touching him, slipping into his clothing and making him come almost before he knew what Jameson was doing. For everyone who thought that he was the perverted little minx of the relationship, Ethan knew otherwise. He just played along - Jameson was the one who would pull him into public restrooms and ask to have his cock sucked. Jameson would tease him to arousal in public, flaunting the beauty that belonged to him.
Even their first night, before Jameson had even realized he was dancing with a beautiful man, Ethan had known the heat and strength of Jamesonís hands on his body.
He wished his hands were Jamesonís hands as he opened his eyes, watching himself as pulled both hands away to look at his erection in the mirror.
This was what Jameson saw. Ethan smiled and began his movement again, trying to keep his eyes open to watch his reflection. Wanting to look down, he tried to catch his own gaze, wanting to see what Jameson saw.
Shifting a bit on the mat, he slipped a hand down to spread his buttocks and show his opening before moving that hand back up to gather a bit of pre-come.
Jameson loved to tease him, trailing a finger around his opening or even making him do it himself, smearing whatever he had for lube and hoping it was enough to ease their coupling.
He could see everything in the mirror, the way his body was responding and his own expression. If his hands had been Jamesonís hands, he would have already come.
Circling a slick finger around his opening, Ethan could only gasp. He knew this torment too well. It would be better to just come.
After all, his hands were his hands and with his eyes closed it didnít matter where his mind went. Release was quick and hot, sticky on his stomach and almost a little disappointing as Ethan reached to grab his discarded towel.
The phone started ringing its shrill, high tone as Ethan sat there, staring at himself and wanting to laugh. The machine kicked on.
Jameson was going to be working late, again.
Ethan supposed he could work on those articles until whenever it was that Jameson made it home.
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