Title: Mirror, Mirror on the Floor....
Fandom: CI5: The New Professionals
Series: Yes - the first in a series of erotic vignettes, tentatively 
entitled 'Billet Doux'
Author: Alyse (alys4@easynet.co.uk)

Archive: CI5 Operational Control 
( http://easyweb.easynet.co.uk/~alys4/newprof ), Britslash
Category: Sam Curtis/Chris Keel.
Rating: NC17.

Spoilers/Warnings: No spoilers. Just smut. And (golly gosh) no angst 
:) This is the piece I was hoping to have finished for Britslash's 
birthday, still I suppose better late than never :)

Summary: Chris has been obsessing about a certain item of furniture in 
Sam's bedroom...

Feedback: Yes please, to alys4@easynet.co.uk. Constructive criticism 
welcome, flames will be used to melt chocolate, and we all know what I'll 
do with that :)

Disclaimers: They belong to Brain Clements and David Wickes 
Productions. They don't belong to me - if they did we all know what they'd 
be doing. I don't make any money from this. I have nothing but my own 
warped imagination and therefore I'm not worth suing. :)

Kudos: Many thanks to my excellent beta Lou :).

Mirror, Mirror on the Floor

by Alyse

Chris would be the first to admit that he was starting to get a little 
obsessed. He also had to admit that it was a feeling he wasn't entirely 
unfamiliar with. Obsessed might also have been a good way to describe his 
feeling for his partner only a matter of months ago - thinking constantly 
about something he couldn't have. He'd dreamt about the man at night, and 
watched him during the day, praying that his focus was going unnoticed.

He should have known better, of course. Sam was far too observant not to 
have noticed that something was amiss, like the fact that Chris was 
constantly in his personal space or the way the American shivered slightly 
whenever they brushed against each other. After watching him with 
amusement for a couple of weeks, waiting for Chris to give himself away 
irrevocably, Sam had finally decided that enough was enough and he had to 
take matters into his own hands. One incredibly memorable night he'd 
simply given Chris just enough alcohol to release his inhibitions without 
making him drunk, and then he'd pounced. They hadn't looked back since.

Once he found that he was able to have Sam, the obsession had eased, 
becoming first simple lust and then deepening into something else. He 
still dreamt about Sam at night and watched him during the day, but now it 
was with the uncomplicated happiness of someone who loves and is loved 
rather than the misery of desperately wanting the unobtainable.

No, his obsession now was of a different sort. Not really an obsession in 
the truest sense of the word, he had to admit, but rather a recurring 
fantasy which couldn't be shaken. He'd had sexual fantasies about Sam 
before, of course, many of them before the two of them had finally become a 
couple. They'd been relatively simple - of fucking or being fucked - and 
in no way had they matched the eventual reality of feeling Sam in him or 
being in Sam. But this one was more complicated, more involved. Instead 
of a flurry of quick, graphic images in his head, designed for the sole 
purpose of bringing him to orgasm, he now imagined slow touches and 
caresses, the long slide of skin against skin, the taste of a hot mouth.

And it was all Sam's fault. The man had to look so damn good!

It had started relatively simply, as these things often do. When he spent 
the night at Sam's flat, Sam always rose first while he hid under the 
covers and tried to pretend it wasn't morning. He'd usually rouse in time 
for Sam's return to the bedroom and then he'd lie in bed watching the other 
man getting dressed while Sam teased him about his inability to wake up.

The problem was that Sam dressed in front of his mirror. The man wasn't 
vain, no matter what those who didn't know him might think. He just liked 
to look smart, and knowing the little that Chris knew about his lover's 
background he could appreciate why Sam felt he needed to. It was another 
way of distancing himself from the run-down council estate he'd grown up on.

Sam would stand there, pulling his clothes on, glancing every now and then 
into the free-standing cheval mirror to check that his trousers were 
straight, his shirt was tucked in, that his jacket collar wasn't 
caught. Not long looks, just quick snatches every now and then, his 
expression serious. Chris could only suppose that looking good was a 
serious business, but he didn't mind if the result looked as good as 
Sam. However, his traitorous mind wouldn't stay on track. Instead of just 
basking in the other man's presence he would start to imagine undressing 
Sam once more, in front of that self-same mirror, watching as his hands 
wandered over that toned torso. Or even better, imagining Sam's hands 
wandering over his body as he watched in the mirror...

If he was really lucky, he might manage to persuade Sam to come back to bed 
at that point. If not, he'd have to make sure that he wore something 
loose, because he could guarantee that he'd be half-hard for most of the 
day. On those days, when they finally headed home, he tended to pounce on 
Sam as soon as they were through the door, often not making it to whoever's 
bedroom. More than once, he'd simply taken Sam on the floor. His partner 
had never objected - yet. He had a feeling that his lover wouldn't be 
quite so sanguine if he'd given in to temptation and simply had him in the 
car park before they ever made it to the car. There were some limits to 
Sam's patience after all, which is why he'd never mentioned his fantasy to 
his lover. He remembered Sam's amusement at his behaviour before they'd 
started their affair, and it still rankled a little bit, making him feel 
like a gauche teenager. Besides, when it came to saying it out loud it 
sounded... silly. 'You know that mirror of yours? Well, I think about you 
just taking me in front of it...'

No, he couldn't say anything to the other man. Sam wouldn't laugh at him, 
at least not out loud, and he'd probably even be willing to try it, but 
Chris still couldn't find it in him to say the words. No way could the 
reality this time surpass the fantasy.

So he resigned himself to having his libido get away from him on a regular 
basis, and contented himself with having what he really wanted - Sam. Only...

Only, this morning while he was watching Sam getting dressed Sam caught him 
looking and gave him an amused look, asking, "Now, why do I get the feeling 
that you're undressing me with your eyes?"

Chris had blushed and said nothing, which in itself was probably a give 
away that that was in fact exactly what he was doing. Normally he was much 
faster with a snappy comeback. Sam had watched him steadily for a few 
moments, and then his smile had deepened, taking on a slightly mysterious 
quality, before he turned back to his dressing. Chris hadn't attempted to 
drag him back to bed this morning, but he had still been semi-aroused all day.

It was no use. He was going to have to find an excuse for them to spend 
every night at his place, that was all. For all of Sam's complaints about 
the quality of his housekeeping, at least he didn't have a mirror in the 
bedroom. He could survive Sam's jibes if it meant he wasn't going to 
embarrass himself. Yes, that was it. They'd go to his. Permanently.

However, at the end of the day it was Sam's turn to drive and he drove 
straight home - to his home.

"Don't you fancy going to mine to tonight?" asked Chris a little 
desperately as they took the road leading to Sam's.

"Why?" asked Sam reasonably, his attention fixed firmly on driving far too 
close to the car in front. Chris flinched inwardly as Sam swerved out to 
overtake with only inches to spare. "Do you have anything in your fridge 
that isn't currently evolving into a higher life form?"

"My fridge isn't that bad," protested Chris.

"Chris, last time I ventured in there I almost didn't make it back out 
alive. We go to mine. I have food - real food - in my fridge. Most of 
the major food groups are represented and contrary to what you might think 
that doesn't include chocolate and mould." He swerved to avoid a 
cyclist. "And nothing in there has been deep fried." He pressed a sudden 
foot down onto the brakes to avoid causing a massacre on a zebra 
crossing. "Besides, my place is closer and you've been giving me that look 
all day."

"What look?" protested Chris weakly.

"The look that tells me that I'll be lucky to get this shirt off intact."

"Oh, that look."

Sam spared enough attention from his driving to give him a long amused 
look. "Not that I'd complain ordinarily," he added. "But this is one of 
my favourite shirts after all."

"It's a very nice shirt."

"Thank you."

"It fits you very well."

"Thank you."

"Very, very well."

That earned him another amused look. "In that case it would be a pity to 
rip it wouldn't it?"

"It would," admitted Chris. And then he beamed at Sam, his dimples 
prominent. "But that's easily remedied."

"It is?"

"Just take it off as soon as you get through the door."

Sam laughed. "I suppose the same could be said for the rest of my clothes 
then?"

"You got it."

"That's your idea of a plan, is it? As long as I get naked as soon as I 
get through the door, you won't rip any of my clothes."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"There's just one flaw..."

"What's that then?"

San turned and gave him a wolfish grin that went straight to his 
groin. "What's going to stop me ripping yours?"

He pulled neatly into an available parking space while Chris continued to 
stare at him, slack-mouthed with a combination of shock and lust. "Don't 
do that to me," said the American when he finally regained the use of his 
voice.

"Why not?" asked Sam innocently.

"Not unless you want me to ravish you in the lift."

"Now there's a thought," grinned Sam, unbuckling his seat belt. "There's 
just one problem."

"What's that?"

"You're going to have to catch me first."

He had enough of a head start to make it to the lift first, and Chris was 
greeted with the sight of Sam's grinning face disappearing behind the 
slowly closing doors. Which left the stairs.

Sam lived on the third floor and Chris still managed to catch up with him 
as he was opening his apartment door. He was a little out of breath but 
not so much so that he had any trouble pushing his partner into his flat 
and almost slamming him into the wall. Sam was laughing as he leant in and 
began to plunder the other man's mouth. He was still chuckling slightly 
when Chris pulled back for a much needed breath.

Chris leant in again, capturing his partner's expressive lips with his own, 
all finesse gone as he literally devoured his lover's mouth, his aggression 
conveying the depth of his hunger.

Sam wasn't laughing anymore when Chris pulled back for another breath, 
panting heavily with arousal. Sam's chest was also heaving, his eyes 
almost black with desire. However, when Chris leant in for a third kiss 
Sam's hand placed firmly in the middle of his chest stopped him, and his 
partner tilted his head back to avoid Chris' mouth.

"Easy Tiger," he gasped. "I've got to go back to the car."

"Why?" protested Chris.

"I was so concerned about not being groped in public, I forgot to lock it, 
didn't I? If it gets nicked, Malone will have our heads."

"Fuck Malone," growled the American, trying desperately to push past 
Curtis' restraining hand.

"I was thinking of fucking, yes, but Malone didn't feature," his partner 
grinned. "Come on Chris, it won't take long," he wheedled. "And then I'm 
all yours."

Grumbling, Chris acquiesced, reluctantly pulling back and letting his lover 
go. Sam's grin widened, and he kissed Chris on the tip of the 
nose. "Anyone tell you that you're adorable when you're sexually 
frustrated?" he asked chirpily. Chris scowled, and Sam leant in and placed 
a gentle kiss on his lips by way of apology.

"I'll be right back. Why don't you wait for me in the bedroom?" he 
said. "And keep your clothes on," he yelled at Chris' retreating 
back. Chris turned around, a puzzled frown on his face as he caught his 
lover's last words, but Sam was already heading out of the door. He stared 
for a second at the inside of the external door, wondering what Curtis was 
up to and then, realising that even if Sam wanted him clothed right now 
they'd be naked sooner rather than later, his mood brightened immeasurably 
and it was a considerably happier Keel who headed into Sam's bedroom.

True to his word, Curtis was back very quickly. Far too quickly to have 
gone back downstairs and then returned, even if the lift had been 
co-operative. At Chris' quizzical look, he grinned, jangling his keys 
dramatically before throwing them onto the bedside table. "Central locking 
is a wonderful thing," he said.

"Where from?"

"The window at the end of the floor," Sam explained. "It looks over the 
street, and with the power on those alarms Malone insisted on it could 
reach." He shrugged. "Well, if you lean out far enough anyway."

"Lazy bastard," laughed Chris.

Sam shrugged again. "Well, I wanted to get back to you, didn't I?" he smiled.

Chris pulled him into his arms. "That's good to know," he murmured against 
his partner's mouth as he headed in for another kiss. This time, Sam 
didn't resist, parting his lips to allow Chris' insistent tongue past and 
moaning softly as Chris plundered his mouth. He wrapped his arms around 
the other man, pulling him closer, one hand sliding up to cup the back of 
Chris' head as his tongue continued to dance with Chris', manoeuvring Chris 
towards the bed. He only pulled back when Chris' hand snaked between their 
entwined bodies and tried to snag his shirt button.

"Uh-huh," he admonished. "You first."

With those words he used the hand cupping Chris' head to turn his partner's 
face gently to one side.

Chris looked straight into the mirror.

He let out his breath in a long, ragged sigh, before sliding his eyes 
towards Sam. His partner was watching him, but there was no amusement in 
his face. Instead there was warmth in his eyes, both affection and 
something that burned brighter. Sam reached out and pushed gently at 
Chris' shoulder, turning the other man so that he was facing directly into 
the mirror, before positioning himself behind Chris.

His eyes met Chris' in the mirror, still showing a combination of affection 
and seriousness, but with a green shine to them that Chris knew meant 
arousal. He leant forward and whispered a single word huskily into Chris' 
ear.

"Watch."

Chris was powerless to do anything else. He watched as Sam rested his 
hands lightly on his shoulders before running them gently down his 
arms. The featherlike touch burned into his skin, branding him with 
need. As Sam's hands reached his own, the Englishman twined their fingers 
together for a moment before beginning another scorching path up the 
underside of his arms.

Chris continued to watch as his partner's nimble fingers moved across his 
chest, circling his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt before 
heading towards the buttons. Each button was treated with almost 
exaggerated care, teased out of the buttonhole rather than simply yanked 
out, and that in itself was intensely erotic. What made it even more so 
was the fact that whenever Chris managed to drag his gaze from Sam's hands 
he met his lover's eyes, reflected in the mirror. He was at the centre of 
Sam's not inconsiderable focus, fixated by that silver-green gaze as Sam 
concentrated solely on giving him pleasure. It was arousing even as it was 
almost frightening in its intensity, the sensation of giving control over 
to the Englishman, even temporarily.

Sam had his shirt open now, and it hung loosely over his shoulders. His 
partner seemed content to leave it there for now, his fingers exploring 
even as his eyes focused almost hungrily on Chris' face, watching as the 
American writhed under his fingertips. Chris was unable to suppress a moan 
as his partner's talented digits danced lightly over his skin, setting his 
nerve endings ablaze with desire. Who could have supposed that so much 
pleasure could come from such a simple touch? Sam played his body like a 
maestro, sending wave after wave of arousal coursing through him. His 
knees were weak, leaving him with no choice but to lean back into his 
partner, letting Sam's body take his weight, the feel of Sam's firm chest 
behind his back only increasing the bliss he was drowning in.

After an eternity, Sam urged him back upright, forcing him to bear his own 
weight so that Sam could ease the shirt from his shoulders. It slid down 
his arms, the feel of the fabric against his oversensitive skin causing 
another spike of arousal. Almost against his own volition his eyes drifted 
closed as he revelled in the feel of Sam's lips now brushing over his bare 
shoulders and across his back. He swayed slightly on his feet as his body 
unconsciously tried to anticipate Sam's light caresses and move to prolong 
them.

"Chris," his partner breathed into his ear, the sound of his name on those 
lips another caress, almost forcing a moan out of him. "Open your eyes and 
look, love."

His eyelids felt weighted down with lead, but he forced them open anyway, 
unable to resist the siren song of that voice. The sight of his own face 
met him, flushed with sexual heat, his pupils dilated and his mouth 
slightly parted. Behind him he could see Sam's face, his expression calm 
and controlled, only the heat in his eyes giving him away. He suppressed 
another ragged sigh as Sam broke their gaze, instead turning his attention 
to watching his hand as it trailed down Chris' flank and across his smooth 
stomach. The skin twitched beneath his fingers, and Chris shivered, 
leaning back against him again, his own eyes following the path of that 
hand as it reached the top of his jeans.

For a long moment Sam left it there, resting lightly on the fabric, until 
Chris thought that his lover would make him beg. He was almost desperate 
enough to do so by the time Sam's hand went on the prowl again, brushing 
lightly over his erection before snaking down his thigh. Sam's other hand 
rested for a moment on the small of his back, a gentle pressure to warn him 
that Sam was stepping away from him again, and then Sam slid gracefully to 
his knees behind him. His hands ghosted around to Chris' front, tugging on 
his shoelaces until Sam could remove his shoes, steadying Chris with a hand 
on his thigh as Chris stepped out of first one, then the other. His socks 
followed, Sam rising to stand behind him again as he stood barefoot in 
front of the mirror.

Sam dragged his fingernails up Chris' thighs as he stood, just hard enough 
to draw another shivering reaction out of Chris as the American fought for 
control. This time, Sam didn't torment him, heading straight for the 
fastenings of Chris' trousers. The button was treated with the same slow 
reverence as his shirt buttons. The zip was slowly drawn down, Sam 
watching his face the whole time as Chris' entire attention was focused on 
his partner's hand.

Sam's hand slipped inside, gently cupping Chris through his boxers as his 
partner shuddered and pressed back against him. Sam's body felt hot 
against his bare back, even though Sam's shirt still lay between them. He 
pressed back further, enjoying the feel of Sam's erection against his 
buttocks and his lover's startled gasp. He rolled his head back on Sam's 
shoulder, rewarded when the Englishman took the hint and sucked and nipped 
at the junction of his neck and shoulder, soothing the resultant stinging 
with a gentle lapping of his tongue. His hand continued to gently fondle 
Chris' erection through the silk of his boxers, the combination of touches 
intensifying Chris' desire almost unbearably.

Just when he thought that he would die from the pleasure of it, Sam stepped 
back with a harsh sigh. Chris dragged his leaden eyes open again, meeting 
his partner's gaze once more. Sam's face was no longer calm; instead it 
was almost as flushed and aroused as Chris' own. He watched, drugged with 
desire, as Sam slid his hands into the waistband of his trousers, and eased 
them down Chris' legs, once again letting his partner balance against him 
as he stepped out of them. Chris' boxers followed, eased down over his 
erection with agonising slowness.

Finally he stood there in front of the mirror naked, just as he'd 
fantasised about. Part of him wasn't sure this wasn't still a fantasy 
however he knew he couldn't have imagined the look of mingled lust and love 
on Sam's face as his partner stood behind him, surveying his reflected body 
with hungry eyes. The contrast of his pale skin framed by Sam's dark clad 
body was an erotic revelation, and he ached for Sam's touch to make this 
real beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Sam didn't disappoint him, reaching up once more to rest his hands on 
Chris' shoulders, starting his slow exploration of his lover's body anew, 
this time unhindered by clothing. By the time that that Sam's hand reached 
his lover's erection again, Chris was almost whimpering with need. Sam 
took pity on him, ending the torture. His finger stroked along the firm 
shaft, pausing to collect the pearly drops of fluid leaking from the tip 
and spreading them over Chris' cock before sliding the now-slick member 
through his fist.

Chris leant back against his partner once more, watching through half 
closed eyes as Sam continued his measured pumping. Sam's other hand 
pressed against his stomach, both steadying him and holding him against the 
other man's body. A familiar tension was building in the pit of his 
stomach. He was so close he could almost taste it and his eyes drifted 
shut in anticipation.

Sam stopped, his fist tightening around the base of Chris' erection, 
staving off the imminent orgasm. Chris' eyes flew open as he stared at his 
partner in disbelief. He met Sam's eyes in the mirror, the Englishman's 
expression almost fierce. Before Chris could protest, Sam moved around to 
stand in front of him with the speed he'd always admired when they were in 
the field, catching Chris in his embrace when the loss of support made him 
stagger. For a brief second they stared at each other, Chris' eyes 
startled and Sam's glittering with a feral combination of lust and 
possessiveness, and then Sam's mouth descended on his, hard and 
demanding. For once Chris gave in, grinding his neglected erection into 
Sam's hip and giving Sam's tongue free rein as the Englishman devoured his 
mouth.

Sam was the first to pull back, panting heavily as he took in Chris' lust 
glazed eyes and kiss-stung lips. With a ragged breath, he fell to his 
knees in front of his lover, the motion lacking the grace of his earlier 
movement. He steadied Chris with two hands on his hips, and leant forward 
to take Chris' erection into his mouth.

Chris made no attempt to stifle his cries this time, bracing himself by 
placing his hands on Sam's shoulders as his lover pleasured him, the 
steady, sucking pressure once more driving him towards orgasm. Sam didn't 
prolong his misery, using his mouth and tongue to bring Chris quick relief, 
utilising every trick that he knew Chris liked to aid in this. He slid his 
hands from Chris' hips to his buttocks, deepthroating him as Chris opened 
his eyes once more and caught sight of the pair of them reflected in the 
mirror. The image seen at one remove of Sam, fully clothed on his knees in 
front of his naked body, the movements of Sam's head leaving him in no 
doubt of what the Englishman was doing to him even if he hadn't been at the 
centre of a maelstrom of pleasure, was enough to drive him over the edge, 
and he came, flooding Sam's mouth with his bitter seed.

Sam caught him as his knees finally gave out and he collapsed to the floor, 
ending up kneeling facing Sam, Sam's arms wrapped around him. Eyes closed, 
he turned his face towards Sam, blindly seeking his lover's mouth. Sam's 
kiss was gentle this time, his lips parting to allow Chris access as Chris 
sought the taste of himself in his lover's mouth.

Chris waited until the thundering of his heart had died down before 
speaking. "Thank you," he said simply, pulling back to meet Sam's 
eyes. He would have said more but for Sam's finger placed on his lips in a 
classic 'shushing' gesture. The Englishman gave him a crooked half-smile 
and leant in for another kiss.

"My pleasure," he said, a hint of amusement now coming through in his voice.

Chris looked pointedly up and down his clothed form. "Actually, I don't 
think so," he grinned, still filled with that post-coital sense of deep 
satisfaction. "I think the pleasure was all mine." He leant in for 
another kiss, pausing just before their lips touched to whisper, "I think 
it's time we do something about that."

Sam's face was flushed when he pulled back, and he swallowed heavily. "Did 
you have anything particular in mind?" he asked huskily.

"What do you want?"

"You."

It was a simple request and one that Chris was more than happy to comply 
with. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and leant in again for yet 
another kiss, sliding his tongue into his lover's mouth and trembling 
slightly at the resultant spike of desire that went through him.

Sam pulled him hard against him once more, running his hands possessively 
up and down Chris' bare back as their tongues duelled. His eyes were very 
green when Chris finally met them, a sure sign of his partner's arousal he 
knew. He felt powerful all of a sudden, knowing that he could affect his 
cool, controlled partner like this. However, Sam turned the tables on him 
once more with a simple question.

"Here?" he breathed into the American's ear. "Or in the bed?"

Chris pulled back abruptly, searching his partner's face for any sign of 
amusement, his expression a little vulnerable.

He found none. Sam's expression was one of calm acceptance, underlain with 
love and arousal. Whatever he wanted would be fine by Sam. That 
realisation gave him the courage to answer the question honestly.

"Here," he whispered.

Sam nodded, still composed, and kissed him again. "You decide how, love," 
he added, rising to his feet. When Chris tried to copy him, a gentle hand 
on his shoulder kept him on the floor. Sam moved to stand behind him and 
began to remove his clothes.

Chris couldn't tear his eyes away from Sam's reflection. His lover 
undressed much more slowly than usual, but that seemed to be the only 
concession he was making to the fact that he was being observed. He didn't 
make a big production of it, no extravagant gestures or patently fake 
moves, although his natural grace shone through. It was erotic all the 
same, probably because it was so genuine. His eyes frequently met Chris' 
in the mirror as Chris watched, totally lacking in self-consciousness.

Chris watched breathlessly as Sam's shirt was peeled open, revealing that 
toned chest to his eager gaze. The shirt slipped down his arms, to puddle 
onto the floor, where it was carelessly kicked to one side. That in itself 
told Chris how aroused his partner was. Sam *always* folded his clothes 
neatly.

Sam's shoes followed, also kicked off to one side, while Sam seated himself 
on the bed to remove his socks, before standing once more to unfasten his 
trousers and peel them off. By the time his hands moved to the zip of his 
trousers, Chris was panting heavily.

When Sam had stripped down to his own underwear, he finally moved out of 
Chris' line of vision, and Chris heard rummaging in the bedside cabinet 
drawer. Presumably Curtis had gone in search of supplies, and the thought 
increased his already elevated heart rate. He was already hard again in 
anticipation of feeling Sam in him. He sat back on his heels and waited 
for Sam to return.

It didn't take long until his partner was once again standing behind him, 
meeting his eyes coolly in the mirror. Sam reached down, placing his hand 
firmly between Chris' shoulder blades, and pushed him gently but inexorably 
onto all fours. There was something inherently dominating about the move, 
and Chris had to suppress another involuntary shiver of desire. He'd 
never, ever wanted to be dominated, but now, with Sam standing behind 
him... he wasn't so sure.

Sam was stripping off the last remaining barrier between them, easing the 
briefs down over his own erection and discarding them as casually as the 
rest of his clothes. Chris shivered again, sliding his knees apart in a 
blatant invitation, hoping that Sam didn't prolong this. He was achingly 
hard, and by the look of Sam so was he.

Sam's lips curled up slightly at the gesture, but he forewent any comment 
on Chris' eagerness, seeming just as keen to bury himself in Chris' body as 
Chris was to have him there. He knelt behind his lover, running one hand 
caressingly down Chris smooth back before flipping the lid off the tube of 
lubricant and smearing his fingers with the slick gel. With no further 
teasing he began to circle the puckered entrance to Chris' body with his 
fingertip before gently sliding it in.

Chris shuddered and pushed back into the intrusion, his head falling 
forward and his eyes closing as he absorbed the sensation of that finger 
sliding smoothly in and out of him. One finger became two, and now he was 
moaning softly, not daring to look up in case once again the vision of what 
Sam was doing to him sent him over the edge before he was willing to go.

Two fingers became three as Sam's own breathing became uneven. Chris could 
hear it over the pounding of his heart, and the sound forced him to open 
his eyes and look at their reflections just as Sam pulled away from him and 
rose to his feet. His lover's face was flushed with need, and his cock 
stood out proudly in front of him, red and urgent. For a second Chris 
wondered why he'd moved away until it dawned on him that Sam had positioned 
himself so that Chris could watch him as he prepared himself for their 
joining. The thought sent another jolt of pure lust through him, followed 
by a wave of affection as he realised once again how lucky he was to have Sam.

Some of that must have shown in his eyes, because even as Sam began to roll 
the condom over his erection, the Englishman met his reflected gaze and 
smiled at him again, the warmth clear in his grey-green eyes. He returned 
his attention back to slicking himself with lubricant, leaving Chris free 
to enjoy the look of mingled concentration and arousal on his lover's face.

His task completed, he knelt behind Chris again, leaning in to press a 
brief kiss against the small of Chris back, before grasping his hip in one 
hand and his own erection in the other. He pressed himself against the 
opening to Chris' body, and then, grasping Chris' other hip firmly, began 
to slide in with one slow, firm stroke.

Chris gasped at the sensation, his gasp turning to a moan as he tried and 
failed to increase the pace of Sam's leisurely penetration. Sam's hands on 
his hips held him firm, preventing him from pushing back into the 
thrust. Instead he was treated to agonisingly slow ecstasy, the slow burn 
of Sam filling him combining with a steady pressure on his prostate to 
drive him insane. He would have admired the man's control if Sam weren't 
currently driving him towards desperation.

At last, after what seemed an eternity, Sam's hips were pressed flush 
against his buttocks, the other man filling him completely. On some 
unconscious level Chris was aware that he was moaning but he couldn't find 
it in him to care. All he could care about, all he could focus on was the 
feel of Sam's hot, rigid flesh in him; steel and silk combined. Everything 
seemed crystal clear; the sound of Sam's harsh breathing behind him as 
Chris' body gripped him, the sweat collecting in the small of his back, the 
feel of his own heart pounding. The sensations were almost overpowering in 
their intensity, and he struggled to remain in control.

Sam gave him a moment to adjust to his girth, the burn of his entry 
subsiding into almost unbearable pleasure. Sam's grip on his hips eased, 
and he pushed back, whimpering, demanding more. His lover complied, 
sitting back on his heels and pulling Chris with him so that he was 
spread-eagled over Sam's lap. And then Sam ran his hands up Chris' sides, 
coming to rest under his armpits, his hands spreading up towards Chris' 
collarbone. He pulled Chris upright, driving himself even deeper into his 
lover, and forcing a sharp cry from the American.

Chris leant back into him, his eyes half-shuttered as he once again watched 
their reflections. He was straddling Sam's lap, his cock rampant in front 
of him, curving up towards his belly, the tip leaking slightly he was so 
turned on. Sam was behind him, the Englishman's face clear over his 
shoulder, his expression that same mix of possessiveness and lust he'd seen 
earlier. As if to acknowledge that, Sam leant forward a little, his arm 
encircling Chris' chest, and breathed sultrily in his ear, "Mine."

The word sent another spike of desire through the ex-Navy SEAL. He 
whimpered softly and his eyes closed as Sam's other hand snaked down 
towards his phallus, stroking lightly along its length. When he opened his 
eyes again, Sam was staring at him, his face almost wild with need, 
obviously expecting an answer.

"Yours," he gasped, an acknowledgement and a submission rolled into 
one. Sam's hand tightened convulsively on him, driving another moan out of 
him. "Oh god, yes," he whispered, unaware that he'd spoken, unaware of 
anything except Sam's hand wrapped around him and the feel of the other man 
deep within him. "Oh god, yes."

Sam hadn't finished yet. "Look," he breathed again in Chris' ears. All 
thought gone now, Chris could do nothing but obey, opening his eyes to 
watch the pair of them again, watching himself as he writhed and moaned in 
Sam's grasp while his partner continued to pleasure him.

It wasn't enough. He needed more. While Sam's hand was driving him 
steadily towards climax again, he needed to feel the other man move within 
him and their current position wouldn't permit that. No matter how much he 
wriggled, he couldn't get the friction he needed. Sam was obviously of the 
same mind, as his partner suddenly released his grip and dropped Chris back 
down onto all fours, rising up onto his knees behind him and surging into 
his lover. Chris cried out again, a mingled sound of triumph and need. He 
loved this position, finding it the best position for a good, long, hard 
fuck. And that's what he wanted now - no finesse, no subtlety, just raw, 
animalistic sex. The only drawback to this position, he'd found, was that 
he couldn't watch Sam's face.

He could now. He could watch Sam's expression as his lover pounded into 
him, each thrust striking that magic spot within him, sending waves of 
ecstasy crashing through him. He could watch as Sam's eyes drifted shut, 
as his lover got that crease between his brows he always got when he 
concentrated. He could watch as Sam bit his lip to hold back his 
cries. He could watch as the cordons in Sam's neck tightened, as his 
lover's face contorted, as he shouted out Chris' name as he came.

And then he couldn't watch anymore, his own eyes closing as the force of 
his orgasm swept over him, screaming Sam's name as he pulsed his climax 
into his lover's hand.

His arms gave out, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor, panting 
heavily. Sam collapsed next to him, his body slick with sweat, his 
breathing ragged and hoarse. "Oh Christ," he groaned.

"Uh-huh," agreed Chris weakly, not having the energy for anything more. He 
did, however, find the reserves to raise his head slightly and grin at his 
partner. "Thanks," he said again.

Sam turned his head and looked at him. His lips curled up in a slow 
smile. "My pleasure," he said.

"Uh-huh," said Chris, collapsing back onto the floor.

They lay there for a while, their breathing evening out and their racing 
hearts calming. There was something, however, that Chris needed to do and 
which finally drove him to action. He raised himself up and moved to 
straddle his partner, placing his hands firmly to either side of Sam's head 
as Sam gave him a quizzical look. He stared down into Sam's face, his own 
expression forceful.

"Mine," he growled.

Sam smiled slightly, raising one hand to brush the back of it lightly over 
Chris' cheek. "Yours," he agreed pleasantly, his eyes warm.

With that out of the way, Chris leant down and kissed him. When he pulled 
back, he asked, "How did you know?"

Sam chuckled slightly, amusement now apparent in his eyes. "I'm not daft, 
Chris." At Chris' puzzled expression, he added, "Let's just say that I had 
noticed the effect my dressing in front of this mirror seemed to have on 
your libido, and put two and two together..."

"Glad you did," interjected Chris. Sam smiled warmly at him again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently, stroking lightly along Chris' back.

Chris shrugged slightly, the movement hampered by the fact that he was 
still holding himself up. "I don't know... Didn't know what you would say 
I suppose."

Sam frowned slightly. "The worst I could say would be 'no'."

Chris treated him to a wry twist of his lips. "The worst you could say is 
'You're really sick, Keel'."

"For wanting to make love in front of a mirror? That's hardly sick, 
Chris." Sam smiled up at him. "Besides," he added gravely, "I'd never say 
that to you." A flicker of amusement crossed over his face again. "Well," 
he added. "Maybe me and farmyard animals, I'd have to suggest that you 
sought professional help."

Chris couldn't help but give him an answering grin. "Only that, huh?" he 
asked cheekily.

Sam shrugged, still smiling at him. Then his expression grew serious 
again, the light in his eyes sending a surge of warmth through the 
American. "I know that I'm not quite as sexually adventurous as you, 
Chris, but I'd like to think that I'd be willing to try anything you 
wanted, at least once. And if I didn't like it," he added simply, "I'd 
tell you."

That knocked Chris for six, not just the fact that Sam seemed to consider 
him to be the more daring in bed, but also the offer and the emotion 
implicit behind it. He stared down at Sam for a second, his mind blank, 
before going with the flow.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," replied Sam simply. "I love you too."

It wasn't something they said to each other frequently, and Chris basked in 
the moment for a second before letting it slip away. But not before he 
lowered his head and kissed his lover, his love, once more.

When their lips finally parted, Sam raised himself up on his elbows and 
smiled at him again. "I need to clean up," he stated calmly. Chris merely 
grinned at him. Sam raised one eyebrow, his mouth quirking upwards in 
another half smile. "That means that you've got to get off me."

Grumbling softly, Chris rolled off him again. Sam pressed a brief kiss 
against his lips. "Why don't you get into bed?" he suggested. "I won't be 
long." He rose gracefully to his feet, and headed towards the bathroom, 
peeling off the condom as he went.

Chris watched him leave, before stretching with lazy grace, truly 
satiated. Who knew that the reality would match the fantasy? He chuckled 
softly to himself as he mentally reviewed some of the images from his memory.

Now, that kitchen table had distinct possibilities...

The End


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