Ashleigh Anpilova


Ducky is awake and listening to Jethro dreaming.

A first time story.

Written: July 2010. Word count: 500.




Ducky sighed softly and glanced at his bedside clock. It was 2:00 a.m. His good mood was fading as he listened to Jethro muttering as he dreamed. He shifted slightly and tried to regain his pleasant and contented mood by recalling what'd led to Jethro sleeping beside him.


Jethro had arrived with a bottle of wine. They'd shared the wine with dinner, before retiring to the sitting room where they'd sat in the front of the fire sipping brandy and talking from time to time, while at other times sitting in contented and unpressurized silence.


It'd been like any other evening spent together, until Jethro had put his down his glass, snagged Ducky's and put that down, before pulling Ducky into his arms and kissing him.


The kissing had led to caressing which had led to them leaving the sofa and fire and heading for Ducky's bed. There all of Ducky's dreams and fantasies had not only come true, but has been far surpassed, as Jethro proved to be a fine, gentle, unselfish and caring lover.


Against his conscious will, Ducky's body began to tingle as his mind replayed the kisses, the touches, the caresses Jethro had bestowed on him; Ducky was certain there was no part of his body that hadn't been kissed, licked, sucked and caressed. But it wasn't just the physical Duck recalled; it was also the words of love and commitment Jethro had whispered to him as he'd made love to Ducky, as he'd shown him how much he loved him.


After they'd made love, they'd lain side by side, touching from time to time, not speaking, just gazing at one another; it'd made Ducky feel decades younger. He wondered if he'd looked as well loved as he'd felt; wondered if he looked too soppy, too loving. But then Jethro's face had been soft and full of love in a way Ducky had never before seen it.


Then just as Ducky had felt his eyes closing, he had felt the bed dip and he'd opened his eyes to see Jethro about to pull on his undershirt. Ducky had demanded to know where he was going and Jethro had told him he never stayed the night, never slept with a lover. But Ducky had refused to stand for that; had told Jethro when he made love, he spent the night with the other man and Jethro was staying. He'd been firm, unmoving; he could still recall how uneasy, irritated almost Jethro had looked. But he'd given into Ducky's demands and had stayed.


Now, as Ducky listened to Jethro's gentle murmurs and clearly happy dreams, he began to regret insisting. He'd heard that dreamers didn't lie and the last thing he wanted to hear was Jethro dream about someone else; one of his women.


But then Jethro sighed, his pleasure clear. "Love you, Duck," he murmured, before falling silent.


Ducky echoed the sigh and, shifting a little closer to his lover, finally fell asleep; his happiness now complete.



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