"Our World"

Title: Our World

Pairing: Stuart/Vince

Rating: NC-17

Genre: First-Time

Summary: Vince gets what he's always wanted. (Details provided in full. LOL). So now what?

Author Notes: This story was written because I couldn't talk my slash mentor and fellow QAF fanatic XANTHE to write it herself. Well, it was my idea . . . so at her request, I bit the bullet and put my dream down on screen. This is dedicated to her. Thanks for feeding my Skinner/Mulder addition, luv.

Spoilers: Set after QAF1, ignores QAF2

Our World

by xof

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I've had mental nights before. Who hasn't? But nothing tops tonight. Oh, my god. First I'm breaking up with Cameron on a cell phone, which has to be the ultimate in ironies. I mean we arranged our first date on a cell . . . thanks to Stuart. Our first kiss preceded a flying cell . . .also involving Stuart. Hell, we've even had major public foreplay interrupted by a cell phone delivery . . . from Stuart. And now I've broken it off on the damn cell. Again because of Stuart . . . well I mean not because Stuart was strictly involved but ultimately he's the reason. Cell phones and Stuart Alan Jones. Mental.

I've gone mad . . . really I have. I ran through Manchester like I had the Master chasing my heels . . . talking up a total stranger about unrequited love. I mean what was I doing? I finally voice my desire for Stuart to someone other than myself and it turns out to be some bloke who's one step away from being a Hare Krishna. Still, it felt so good to have said the words out loud.

So I'm at club and I see Stuart moving across the floor eyeing the crowd. He's hunting, his eyes gliding over and off one person after another . . . looking for the one that he'll cop off with tonight. It's always been beautiful to watch. The ease of his movements and the light that shines from his face when he's determined to seduce are hypnotic. But tonight Stuart's "huge" world seems to be getting smaller. There's a sadness in watching his little mating ritual. I've seen it countless times before but tonight it's . . . just sad.

For all his hugeness, Stuart Alan Jones is alone. The only constants in his life are Alfred and I. Hazel's told me how well the whole scene is with Alfred. Stuart was so close to being cut out of his life. And now the relationship with Alfred's mum is strained. "Strained" . . . a well-chosen word to describe my own relationship with Stuart. He's done some harsh things to people, said enough harsh words to tear down anyone's defenses . . . but outing me to a co-worker at my birthday party was cruel. I'd thought I'd develop a thick skin against his hard-edged exterior but that cut deep.

The thing is that despite what Stuart and even Hazel think of me and my own self-image, I still figured out that it was a push. Stuart wanted to set me free, so he decided to give me the shove I'd been begging him to give Nathan. Free to be with Cameron. As if that was really what I wanted. No. Stuart's lost that battle . . . and won in the losing. Because whether he knows it or not he needs me in his life. I'm his constant and he's mine. I'm not going to let him be alone. It would hurt us both too deeply to just exist in our separate worlds. Besides, he told me himself that my "little world" and I were "good enough" for him.

So I watched him. He'd moved off with some bloke . . . copped off by the looks. I shook my head at the thought that I'd just made it in time to find him leaving with someone else when I had this strong urge to look back at him. My movements compelled, I looked his way and into his eyes. He saw me. I mean really saw me. And in that instance a marvelous thing happen. The other bloke was forgotten and I became Stuart Alan Jones' whole world. I felt more confidence in that moment than I've ever felt. I knew he would come to me. I felt the pull as he smiled, shaking his head and then as we raced to the platform. We danced harder than ever before for hours it seemed. The drinks didn't flow. We were drunk on the music and being back with each other.

Finally, at around two we left to go back to his flat. We didn't say anything about why . . . nothing was understood or intended. We just didn't want to let the moment go having been too close to losing or giving up everything we'd been for fifteen years. The friendship has withstood the test.

So we're here and Stuart goes to fix us both a drink. We're not talking, just letting the quiet settle in our bones after the loud storm of the club. I wander around the room, smiling a little when I see that he's kept the life-sized cardboard display of me he'd had made for my birthday party. So even when we'd been apart as friends, he'd still kept me at his side and in his home. It seemed almost as great a gift as having found K9 on my car . . . Cameron's car. "Shit, I'll have to give it back."

"Give what back?" Stuart's voice startled me. I hadn't realized he was standing so close behind.

"The car. Wouldn't be right to keep it now that it's off." I'm not looking at him. He's still standing at my back as I look into the artificial representation of my own image. I hadn't told him until now that I'd broken off things with Cameron.

The silence looms wide as I wait for his response. He chooses not to say anything, just moves forward to press himself to my back and encircle my waist with his arms. We are standing just as we had on the hospital roof the night Alfred was born. This time I am the one who outstretches our arms and says "King of the World."

Stuart chuckles, "I guess that still makes you Kate Winslet."

I couldn't resist throwing back his favorite comeback, "Fuck Kate Winslet."

Suddenly he moves to embrace me tightly against his body, capturing my arms to my sides and whispers, "No thanks." He turns his head towards me so I can feel his breath against my skin. "Hmmm. I'd rather shag you."

A nervous laugh bursts from my chest. "Yeah right. What drug have you taken this time?" He's got to be high. There's no way this is happening. Oh . . . I get it. It's one of his jokes. Like at Phil's house after the funeral. Shit. I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Okay, disappointment wins.

He moves up closer against me. I mean I can feel every part of him . . . oh my god. He's hard. "What . . ."

Stuart interrupts my question. I can feel as well as hear the "Tisk tisk tisk, Vince," he murmurs. "You're the only drug I'm on tonight." He turns me 'round and presses me up against the wall.

Shaking. What's shaking? Oh, my legs. Good thing there's a wall to lean on. He's got me pinned. He feels so good. Still, "You're not serious. You can't want this." I'm getting desperate here. I mean this is everything I've always wanted and I'm seriously thinking that it's going to be jerked away from me at any second.

The look. He's giving me the look . . . yes the look with his eyes on fire and his grin wide. The one that teases you with thoughts of lust in a dark alley and skin pressing into skin on silken sheets. Stuart's never given me this. And now it's right here in front of me . . . directed at me. I'm breathless. Stunned.

Stuart looks into me with those eyes and I know now that he's always known how I've wanted him. "Vince. I'll prove that I want you. That I need you." With this promise, he leans in and kisses me. Stuart has kissed me before, a quick peck in a bar when he's drunk and the small gentle one on my birthday . . . but never like this possession. I loose all connection to everything in the world but his touch, taste and heat. He moans into my mouth as our tongues play into each other in turns. Finally he pulls away when air is exhausted.

He buries his head in the curve of my neck and through the haze of a pounding heart and blurred senses I hear him murmuring against my skin. "William Hartnell."

"Huh?"

He laughs, continuing down my neck and . . . oh. He's unbuttoning my shirt as he says again, "William Hartnell."

In a tone that's unbelieving and full of longing I whisper roughly, "Oh my god." He's using Dr. Who as a turn at seduction. I may just die of bliss now.

"Patrick Troughton." Another button open. "Jon Pertwee." Quick lick across my nipple that causes me to jerk. "Tom Baker." Oh shit . . . he's nibbling a trail of sweet bites across my chest. "Peter Davison." The shirt is opened completely. Stuart's on his knees tonguing my navel. I think I'm about to scream. "Colin Baker." His voice is husky, the Irish accent more pronounced as he rises before me and undoes my pants. His face carries a fierce impassioned expression. "Sylvester McCoy." At the name, he takes my mouth again. The kisses go on and on as I moan into his touch.

As he moves back again I gasp out, "What about Paul McGann?" I'm smiling like an idiot I know. But I can't help it. Seeing Stuart licking my taste off his lips is a sight not to be missed.

He smiles. Indicating that I'm not supposed to move, he steps back and takes off his clothes. Shit . . . the site makes me even harder. He's perfect, sleek and beautiful. His skin glistens in the muted light of the room. Once the shirt and pants are gone, he's standing before me like sin made flesh. I think I'm panting. He moves his hands down his own body coming to stroke his hard cock almost as if he's presenting it to me. Gliding back in . . . pressing fully against me as he moves to drag down my boxers, he answers softly, "Paul McGann doesn't count, Vince. But this does."

A kiss as skin touches skin for the first time. Stuart's lips play gently over my own. He teasingly licks along my lips before gently . . . almost reverently encouraging me to move into him. I'm tasting him . . . and it's almost more than I can stand. This is going to happen. We are going to happen, even if it's only for the one night.

I move my hands firmly across his back and down to smooth over his ass, holding him to me as he groans into my mouth. Quickly he moves back and grasps my hand to lead me to his bed. Oh yeah . . . I'm in Stuart Alan Jones' bed. A mental night I tell you. He's against me, over me. It feels so good. Our movements are getting more and more frenzied. Stuart kneels up astride me. He's got that wicked expression on his face. Taking my cock in hand, he says, "Vince. Fancy a look at Barry Sheen?"

His laugh matches my own until he quickens the pace of his strokes, pumping in a quick powerful rhythm. "Stuart. No Barry Sheen tonight . . . you are all I need."

My words make him pause. Then he continues as he speaks. "Vince. I want to see you come, to watch your face . . . see you lose it by my hand. We missed out on that all those years ago. But not tonight." He kisses me fiercely. Our sounds echoing through his flat. I'm arching up into his hand, writhing with the heat and urgency as I feel it all come to a peak. I start panting out his name as he murmurs, "Yeah. That's it. Come on. Vince."

"Too . . . much. Oh god. Stuart!!!" And I'm coming so hard, fighting desperately to keep looking into his face . . . wanting him to know the flame that's running through my veins as I spill over his hand.

After my brain settles back into my head, I laugh aloud. Stuart lays over me making me feel his weight, pressing me down into the sheets covered by his body. "Hmm. I didn't miss Barry at all. Did you?"

Grinning. I'm grinning stupidly but I feel so marvelous. Looking at the desire in his face, feeling his cock against me . . . it too tempting to resist. "Stuart." I kiss him deeply, moving to tease his heat as he groans. Pulling back just enough to see his reaction, I ask in a raw tone, "Fuck me?"

"Oh my god, Vince." He groans as he moves to prepare us to shag.

Waiting for him to slick his fingers, I move my legs wide apart . . . opening myself to his hand. My breath catches as he teases the entrance to my body. "I . . . oh, I thought that was my line. Aww." Shit his fingers are in me. Oh yeah. This is something I'm never going to forget. He's so focused on me. My face, my body and my pleasure. I watch as he works on the condom, moving back to tease my renewed hard-on. "Do it. Let me feel your cock."

"Oh baby. As you wish." And then everything stops . . . time, my heart and my breath. He's in me, thrusting up slowly so that I feel his entire length as it enters. "Ohhhh . . . yeah. Stuart . . . more. Come on, do it." My words echo between us as he moves into my body. "Oh shit . . . yes. You feel so good. Harder."

"Vince . . . so fucking good." He's kissing me . . . and I'm fucking his mouth in time to his thrusts. I can feel the friction of his slicked skin against my own and the stretch of my ass as he takes me. He moves up at just the right angle and it's nirvana . . . his cock teasing my hot spot again and again. The sensation of my cock captured between us as we writhe together makes me see sparks. We're close . . so close.

"Stuart. Man I'm gonna come." I'm yelling and groaning so loud it almost drowns out Stuart's own cries but not quite. We're both screamers it seems . . . ahhh. He reaches between us and pumps my cock, matching the harsh rhythm of his hips. Too much . . . and I'm there. I'm coming for the second time tonight and it's so intense. I can feel Stuart jerk against me as I clutch him within my ass. With a sharp cry of my name . . . oh my god . . . my name, he comes. His body moves strongly against me as he thrusts into the bliss. And I see black . . . one minute it's his face so beautiful as he gasps his release and my own body as it trembles under the emotion of such a view . . . and the next I lose consciousness in his arms.

I remember feeling a warm cloth brush over my skin and the site of his profile as I mumble, "Stuart." He takes me into his arms and with a quite, "Sleep," we drift off leaving all questions till the break of day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's a wonder to see Stuart asleep. All his kinetic energy and charm frozen in the face of peace. I haven't ever really been in a situation in which I could really study him like this, until now. It's about seven in the morning. Don't know how long I've sat here beside him on the bed, mind. Just know that I don't want the image torn from me by the reality of the dawn. So I'm memorizing him - the dark curls that frame his head, the curve of his lips swollen from having kissed me again and again. My eyes follow down the curve of his back, over the swell of his ass and down the length of his legs. He's truly divine. Hmm. Course he knows it. Never had a doubt about his sensuality and how others fall into lust at one look. Stuart was beautiful to me at fourteen. And he's more beautiful to me now.

I'm a true fool, me. I've not only shagged my best friend, I've come up with the perfect way to avoid the morning after conversation. Sitting here looking at him has inspired me. No I'm not going to run away. That's probably the most obvious way out. But I don't feel like being obvious. See that's one of my problems. I'm always obvious and the two most obvious reactions to last night are: a) run & b) cling. Well I'm not gonna run and I'm not going to play "Nathan" by crowding the man I love. Nope. I've got one better. And when I'm done, it'll be Stuart who has to decide the out come.

Lifting my eyes from him, I look across a couple feet to the video camera I set up about five minutes ago. Yeah, that's right. Stuart's much used and loved video camera. Why would I be taping this moment? Hmm. Time will show and then you'll know.

Taking a deep breath. Put on your best smile. Let the game begin.

"I think this is the best look you've ever had. Sated and tangled in twisted sheets." The humor is showing through in my tone. Can't help it. I just feel so good. "Couldn't resist capturing the moment. Hmm. I felt so good waking up this morning until a question skirted across my mind. Now what? I know you're probably groaning as you watch this. I didn't feel too great when I ask myself the question, either.

"Phil once asked me if I ever thought we'd cop off. Meaning you and me of course. I said that it'd never happen cause we wouldn't even be able to look at each other the next morning. The funny thing is that now that it's actually happened, I want to do nothing but look at you. More's the pity for me, right?"

Pausing for a moment to look back his way, I wait a moment before springing the big issue.

"Stuart. I love you. You know that. You've known for some time it seems. In love with Stuart Alan Jones. Now that said, I'm also your friend and I don't want to lose that to this. There's no mistaking that I had the time of my life last night. Fabulous. I can still feel you." I stretch my body out beside him, facing the foot of the bed and looking back into the lens. "I'm never going to be able to hear the run down of Dr. Who's again without getting a hard-on. Dirty pool, that was." I laughed aloud, shaking my head. "Still, before I play the noble character in this marriage . . . there's something I want to give you."

Moving up to stand on my knees, I let my hands run down my chest. They ghosted over my nipples and down my stomach, sliding down to stroke over my hard cock in an echo of Stuart's own display last night. "I think you've turned me into a slut. Still, that's better than being a twat," I laugh as I turn to him. "Hmm. Speaking of which...."

And now is my moment. I've had years to dream about touching Stuart's body, tasting him and driving him wild. So here's my chance. Running my hands up his legs, I lightly lick behind his knees. So sweet. His skin tastes of salt and sweat. My tongue continues up his thighs until I reach his ass. Moaning at the thought of waking him this way, I trace the curves of his flesh. He starts to move against my mouth despite still being asleep. "Hmm . . . Stuart how you taste." The words are rough, said against the smooth silk beneath my tongue. I nibble along the his cheeks and finally slide between them. Oh yeah. He's waking up now slowly as I take him with my mouth. He jerks back into me and the loud approving groan I hear tells me he's awake.

I thrust into him slowly with my tongue as I move my hand between his legs, grasping his dick to still his movements. He shouts, "Oh shit. Vince." I look up to see him watching me over his shoulder. He's gripping the pillow like a lifeline, as I move back into him . . . fucking him faster as he starts to thrusting into my hand and back into my mouth. He's panting. Whispering, "Yeah. Oh yeah . . . like that."

I don't know exactly how long I torment him like this. Every time he's about to come, I grip his cock tightly to cut off the peak before moving in again. He's getting frantic. "Fuck. Ohh. Vince . . . I'm gonna . . . I want to." He puts his hand around mine trying to get me to finish him off, but I slap it away. He whimpers as I release him completely, taking away hand and mouth so that he's writhing alone against the bed.

Before he can turn I quickly grasp his hands together at his back and restrain them with one of his black silk ties. I move to lay over him fully as he shouts, "What the fuck? Vince have you lost your mind?" Not saying a word, I nuzzle his neck and start licking his ear. His confusion starts to bleed back into lust at the touch.

Once he stops fighting to get loose I tell him, "Tisk tisk tisk, Stuart. This is my game. Now be a good boy and play along." My words are accompanied by the brush of my cock against the crease of his ass.

He's breathing hard, releasing little sounds of encouragement as I move my body against his. Finally, I move away and turn him around so that he's on his side with his head towards the foot of the bed. His mouth. Oh my god. I need to taste him again. He opens up to me with such passion and need. Hell, I could probably come just by doing this to him. But I've got to finish driving him out of his mind, so I digress.

His nipples are very sensitive I discover. He cries aloud as I take them both alternately into my mouth. Stuart ungulates into me as I play with them . . . licking, biting and sucking until they stand out against the warm air I blow across each in turn. His eyes are squeezed shut as I move downward yet again. Reaching his hips, I trace their inner curves over his pelvis with my fingers before commanding him to open his eyes. Locking our gazes, I take his cock into my mouth. Oh man. I'd wanted to do this so long. Seeing him bite down on his lip as he thrusts against my tongue is almost too much. I let him fuck me as I move my hands back to his ass. Reaching over to grab the lube off the bed, I tease one then two fingers into him. Stuart lets out a small wail as I finger his ass with three, brushing against his prostate. He's almost to the point of babbling and I am the one who'd put him into this state.

Knowing that neither one of us can last much longer, I pull away and turn him half way onto his stomach . . . raising his leg to give me access. He whispers fiercely into the bed as I put on the condom and press fully against his back, "Please . . . oh please. Vince, fuck me. Fuck me so good."

Oh my god. Stuart Alan Jones begging me to shag him.

At the words that thrilled my soul, I enter his body for the first time. There are no words for how this feels. The heat, the pressure and rightness of that moment is unbounding. He is mine. I am his and we are each other's. I move into him completely, hearing his cry and mine. So good. Burying my head against his neck, I take him as he calls for more . . . "faster" . . . "harder" . . . "oh god." The feel of him is breathtaking. I am crying as I fuck him. My tears mixing with the sweat that glistens down his back and against my chest. His hands press into my stomach, clutching at me on every forward thrust. I take his heated cock into my hand as he curses and strains back into me. I hear my name on his lips as he jerks into my fist, feeling him come over my hand. The muscles in his ass clasp me tightly as his climax racks his slim frame. I scream against his shoulder, biting down into him as I come inside him . . . marking the moment into his flesh and forever into my heart.

Releasing his hands, I clutch him to me long after I've left his body. My tears do not stop. But they come down in a silence only marred by the slowing gasps of two sated lovers floating in the aftermath. I reach around to taste his lips once more before he drifts off into sleep again. I embrace him for a long moment, knowing that from this point on our future was uncertain.

Rising from his side, I face the lens once more. It has captured every moment and every word, I know. Looking back at Stuart lost again to the land of dreams I speak quietly with a voice roughened by ware. "You hold so much of my heart in your hand. So know this . . . I love you. Always have. My feelings are not going to change. They've been tested too drastically in the past for me not to know that. So you now have the floor. It's your decision. We either continue as best mates or we continue as lovers. There will be no ending of anything. We don't run. We don't deny. It's either continue or grow. I'd be satisfied with the first and would, as I'm sure is obvious, welcome the second. I want you in my life. If you decide it's as friends . . . then our fifteen or so years continues into a new day. If it's as lovers . . . then it's into a new world. Our world."

I move over to the camera taking Stuart's cell phone off the side table and placing it on top.

"So, here's how it goes. I'm off to meet Hazel. I said I'd help her with a delivery today at 9:00. You're going to call me after you've decided. Either way, there'll be some work involved I'm sure. You've always been a high maintenance twat, luv." Smiling into the lens once more, "It's part of your charm." And the picture fades to black . . .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

11:11AM - Hazel's house.

Ring.

Long sigh and then the beep of an answered cell.

"Hi."

"Vince . . ."

"Yeah?"

"I thought about it and I've only got this to say . . ."

pause

"Stuart . . . you there?"

"William Hartnell. Patrick Troughton. Jon Pertwee. Tom Baker. Peter Davison. Colin Baker. Sylvester McCoy."

"Oh my God..."

"Vince?"

"Huh hmm. Yes?"

"Ask me about Paul McGann."

"Hmm. And Paul McGann?"

"Paul McGann doesn't count, luv. Only you do."

"Stuart . . . you mean?"

"Welcome to our world, Vince. When are you coming home?"

Finis