Title: The Poetry of Magic: Christmas (Third
Fandom: Jonathan Creek
Archive: Britslash only
Summary: Jonathan and Adam share Christmas Eve
Disclaimer: characters are beloved creations of and copyright David
Renwick. I'm just playing with them.
The Poetry of Magic: Christmas
For the first time in as long as the locals could
remember, it snowed
on Christmas Eve in Briar Hollow. Several miles out of the village,
the white flakes fell thick and fast, carpeting the fields with a
flawless white blanket.
The warmth of the BMW’s recently-used engine melted the first flurry
to land on the dark blue bonnet. But it soon cooled, and as the
windmill beyond was covered in white, so too was the car.
Inside, on the ground floor, the aroma of fresh coffee and home-made
biscuits filled the circular kitchen. Up the wooden stairs, the
wonderful smells permeated the warm air. Half-empty glasses stood
abandoned on the carpet next to the old leather sofa. Torn wrapping
paper littered the wooden boards of the floor, glittering in the glow
of the lamps.
The warm air moved the tinsel that hung around the statues and posters
in the room. Next to the locked wooden door that led out onto the
terrace, fairy lights danced around a short Christmas tree, under
which more brightly wrapped parcels were strewn.
From beyond the second set of wooden stairs came soft moans and
Shadows danced in the light of the candles that stood on the floor and
cabinets in the bedroom. The warm, amber glow caressed the slowly
moving bodies on the large bed in the centre of the light.
They moved together in an ancient rhythm, keeping time to their own
Jonathan's long, lithe body shifted forward once again, tight buttocks
clenching as he moved slowly deep inside his lover.
Adam's muscles, taut with desire and sheened with sweat, glistened in
the light as he pushed back to take as much of Jonathan inside of him
as he could.
On the mattress next to them, their joined hands supported Jonathan's
weight, their fingers entwined, gripping tightly.
Dropping his lips to the back of Adam's neck, Jonathan kissed the
heated skin lightly. Pushing up the white fur rim of Adam’s Santa hat
with his forehead, Jonathan used the tip of his tongue to trace the
outline of a tiny love-heart at the top of Adams spine, searing
As a bright expletive shaped Adam's lips, Jonathan murmured words of
love, meant to soothe. His free hand moved, from where he'd been
torturing the man's right nipple, down over the tight stomach to tuck
between hard thighs. He wrapped long fingers around Adam's painful
erection and began to pump him with languishing care to the same, slow
rhythm that their bodies were moving to.
Slowing impossibly, Jonathan nipped a trail down the back of Adam's
neck and over his shoulders. Only when he had tasted his way from
left shoulder to right, did Jonathan finally take mercy on his lover.
He lifted himself and thrust forward suddenly, hard and deep.
Adam screamed, his voice drifting through the windmill as he came
through Jonathan's fingers to the damp sheets below them.
Jonathan's ecstatic cry joined with his lover's as his own climax was
stolen from him.
Finally they collapsed, Jonathan to Adam's back, softening cock still
buried deep. He pulled his hand from under Adam and, wiping his
fingers on the edge of the duvet, he reached up to cup the large furry
bobble that hung from the top of the red furred Santa hat that Adam
"I can't believe it stayed on," Jonathan murmured quietly, laughing
Adam chuckled low in his throat. "Me too, the way you were yanking
Carefully rolling them on to their sides, Jonathan spooned into Adam's
back. He liked to keep the physical connection between them for as
long as he could, and he had discovered Adam to be a true masochist at
heart when it came to having his lover buried inside him. That one
night at 'Skin' had turned into something much more; a journey of
discovery for them both.
"What time are your parents likely to turn up?" Adam murmured
sleepily, hoping he could leave in the early morning instead of having
to leave the warmth of his lover and the windmill to drive the long
trip back to London.
"No earlier than ten," Jonathan assured him, wrapping himself closer
around Adam to make his point.
Adam smiled to himself. The idea of Jonathan's dotty family finding
their son in bed with a man wearing a Santa hat was more than Adam's
career could stand up to. But he was nevertheless willing to risk it
for a couple more hours.
"Merry Christmas," Jonathan murmured as his mind went quiet and his
body erred toward sleep.
With the memory of his lover sitting in his lap, Adam too closed his
eyes. "Merry Christmas, little boy," he whispered.
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