Mon, February 06 2012
| TITLE: | Scientific Inquiry |
|---|---|
| AUTHOR: | Polly Anne Morris |
| CATEGORY/TYPE: | Humor, Romance |
| RATING/WARNINGS: | NC-17, Adult-Slash |
| MAIN CHARACTERS: | Phileas\Jules |
| DESCRIPTION: | Some consequences of intimacy . . . |
| STATUS: | Complete |
Jules Verne lay on his side in the bed with his back turned to his lover, half-sobbing with the intensity of the sensation he had experienced, trying to catch his breath. Phileas wrapped his arms around Jules tenderly and cradled him back to front, nuzzling at the hair at the back of Jules' neck from time to time in a comforting manner.
At length Jules could breathe again, and speak with relative calm. Heaving one final massive sigh he quieted, appreciating the warmth of Phileas' body against his back, touched by the tender care Phileas had for him during his period of crisis.
Finally Jules spoke. "I don't know what that Chinese herb-doctor gave you, Fogg," he said. Whatever it was. He should ask Fogg's valet, Jules mused; he should lay in a stock before he returned to the Sorbonne. He could probably make a lot of money off it, in Paris. Passepartout would know -- but that wasn't the point. He was still muddle-headed, easily confused. "I'm not sure I can take this. We're going to have to negotiate."
"Umm," Phileas murmured, with a contemplative note in his voice that made Jules' blood run cold. "Negotiate. Give and take. I quite like the sound of that, Verne. Where shall we start?"
No. He couldn't. He couldn't. And Phileas couldn't, either. Could he? "We should start by tabling the discussion till the morning, Fogg, what's gotten in to you? Now just settle yourself down. It's time to go to sleep." Sleep. What a wonderful idea. Phileas had kept him on the run from the moment he'd joined his friend for breakfast, and whether or not Chinese herbs had anything to do with it there had been times at which Jules had considered becoming genuinely afraid. It wasn't natural. Phileas was older than he was. They'd known there was to be an issue of sexual stamina, they'd never discussed it, Jules hadn't thought it was going to be a problem, who knew that Phileas would take it into his head to call in an Oriental expert?
"But problems should be discussed, Verne," Phileas protested, silkily, with the very Devil in his voice. "It's utterly necessary for success in long-term relationships, I've been told. Often." Phileas stole his right arm across Jules' chest from behind, walking his long fingers provocatively across Jules' bare shoulders to tangle in the soft brown hair that furred Jules' chest and caress him idly. "Yes, usually when I want to go to sleep, but this is different, Verne, because I believe in us. And - "
Oh, God, Jules thought in absolute despair. Because he knew what was coming next. It was just a handful of little words, but Phileas had at one catastrophic moment discovered the power that those few little words had over him, and Jules was helpless against the impact of the phrase. Even now. Even now. He could feel his masculine interest stir at the very thought, he was doomed, he would never live to see the sunrise; it was the end, and Phileas Fogg nibbled at Jules' earlobe in a meditative manner, drawing out the suspense, letting Jules' anticipation develop. And this man was his lover. If he'd known what manner of maniac Phileas Fogg was, in his intimate behavior, would he ever have dared to welcome Phileas into his bed in the first place?
"-- and I believe in the future, Verne. - I believe in science - "
"Damned English," Jules swore in despair, and turned over, and shut Phileas up the best way he knew how.