 Title: "The Night of Many Words" 1/1 ----- James West didn't move a muscle when he heard the door to his sleeping compartment open. It was deeply dark inside the room -- he judged it to be around 2:00 in the morning. Oddly enough he had been awake before hearing the small creaking of the opening door -- he'd just drifted up out of a pleasant sleep and had been lying in the strange 'afterglow' created by a truly realistic dream of passion... Now he was lying with his heart pounding, trying not to allow his body to stiffen as he extended all his senses and attempted to 'feel' this person who was invading his privacy in the middle of the night. It certainly wasn't the first time he and Artemus had unexpected 'visitors' aboard the train! "Ah, James," a familiar voice spoke in a quiet under tone. It could only be the voice of his partner, Artemus Gordon. But what was Artie doing in his room at this hour? West felt the bed shift as Gordon sat down carefully on one edge. He strained his ears to hear anything further Gordon might whisper. Suddenly West felt the sheet which covered his chest being pulled away and the cooler outside air striking his skin, raising gooseflesh. West forced himself to remain perfectly still and relaxed as a warm hand dropped against the bare flesh of his arm and traced upward over his shoulder. It was all West could do not to shiver from the sensation. "Beautiful. Just beautiful. Perfect body, perfect face."Gordon's voice remained low, almost crooning the words. His speech was clear -- not at all slurred -- West eliminated the possibility that Gordon might have been drinking. Gentle fingers reached an exposed nipple and lightly brushed it. West shuddered in spite of himself, and he felt the nipple grow taut. He heard Gordon give a chuckle of appreciation. "Ah, so sensitive!" Gordon exclaimed, his voice still a whisper. "What I could do with you, James ..." The fingers moved softly across his chest to the opposite nipple, again barely stroking. This time West managed to suppress his shudder, but the flesh grew turgid almost at once, and he could feel the nipple drawing firmly up and out -- much more clearly than the first. He stifled the moan that crept into his throat, though he suddenly longed to shift his buttocks against the bottom bedsheet. He could now feel Gordon's breath against his chest. Obviously his partner was leaning over him, perhaps even peering into his face. West felt his facial muscles longing to twitch; the desire to open his eyes and look at Gordon was nearly overwhelming. West exerted his will power and allowed himself to sigh as if doing so in sleep. This exhalation of breath soft as it had been helped to relax West -- he felt in control of himself again. The exploring hand returned and the fingers trailed downward, pushing the sheet away as they went. West could feel Gordon's fingers drawing closer and closer to where the sheet had been left pooled around his groin. He could feel sweat break out across his forehead. Perhaps Artie hadn't noticed this sudden perspiration -- probably not, if his eyes were following what his hand was doing to West... There was an oddness to the feeling of being intimately stroked by a hand encased in cloth -- West blushed as he recalled his recent wet dream. Was there dampness on the sheet? If not, would Gordon continue? Would he push back the covering and discover West's wet genitals? West's sweating became more profuse and he struggled to keep from sitting up to confront Gordon. Yet he felt he should wait. He felt that patience was the best course in this sensitive situation... "My dear one," Gordon's voice caressed him with both warm vocal tones and an exhalation of hot breath against his remarkably vulnerable naked skin. "My own dear James. You are more than a partner to me, if only you knew it. You are the very essence of life." The sheet was moved away -- West suppressed a groan of dismay. Instantly he felt cool air strike his wet flesh with invisible fingers. Then a delicate touch of flesh and blood fingers and nerve-tingling fingernails drug across bare, damp flesh -- a brushing motion over his wiry groin hair. West almost whimpered, his recent embarrassment forgotten -- he couldn't keep his body from shifting slightly. The touch became firmer, more knowing -- firm fingers wrapped around the base of his penis. West opened his eyes and found Gordon staring directly into his face at close range. He ran his tongue over his dry lips and swallowed, not knowing what to say or do. There was no possible denial for his own lust, clearly displayed to Gordon's touch. "I can make you feel so good, Jim. So very good," Gordon serenaded softly. His voice was reassuring and lulling. West pressed his lips together and again closed his eyes. "Let me, James. Open your eyes and look at me. Tell me you want this. I've waited so long for you to want me." Gordon's voice was hoarse with passion, pleading. West's thoughts were racing. There was no one closer to him than this man, his partner, his friend. Not those who had been close to him growing up, not those he had served in with in the Army, not other partners -- nor the many women he had known and been with. No, in spite of all these others, Artemus Gordon was the one person he felt closest to. He must plainly admit Artemus Gordon was the person he loved the most... But allow himself to become physically involved with Gordon? Did he really want to do that? Would their partnership - and more importantly, their friendship -- to suffer? Did he really want to know what passion with another man was all about? West opened his eyes and he looked directly into Gordon's eyes. Gordon must have lit a lamp at some point, for West could see him quite well in the yellow-gold glow. A light of romance, light of love... Gordon's dark eyes were wide and swimming -- and his lips looked damp and even swollen. His dark, thick hair was charmingly mussed; he wore a silk dressing gown which fell open at the throat, revealing his hairy chest. He looked absolutely ... wonderful. West was surprised by his strong reaction to his partner's appearance. "Say something, Jim. Don't make me just sit here not knowing how you feel." West decided then, quickly pressing upward into Gordon and wrapping his muscular arms around him, pulling their two bodies tightly together. "Kiss me, Artie," he said softly, parting his lips and once more closing his eyes. The press of Gordon's lips against his was electric. He felt himself wanting this contact -- perhaps more than he had ever wanted any kind of physical contact in his entire life. They swayed together, West's hands pushing roughly at the cloth barrier that separated their bare flesh. Gordon's hands left West's body and he pulled back. West groaned his annoyance, though he didn't struggle or open his eyes. His pulse was racing and he felt all control fleeing, yet he knew - as he had always known with Artemus Gordon - that he could trust his partner. Artie would take care of him. Artie always took care of him... Suddenly Gordon's body was once again pressed to his. Now it was a meeting of naked skin against naked skin. West opened his eyes long enough to shoot a thankful gaze into Gordon's and was rewarded by one of Artemus' warmest smiles. Lips descended on lips and West submitted his body to Gordon. He came then without warning. He felt the world spinning, felt the accentuated rocking of the train that was their home. West heard husky sobbing and realized he was crying, filled with joy. "Yes, Jim ... yes, darling," Gordon crooned, one hand wrapped firmly around West's shoulders while the second hand caressed sweat dampened hair and scalp. West felt himself regaining some control. The room came back into focus and he stared at Gordon hungrily, really seeing his partner -- perhaps for the first time in all the years they had known one another. "Yes," was all he said, smiling at Gordon. It was a word full of meaning to West; he hoped it would mean as much for Artie to hear it. 'Yes' he repeated to himself -- exactly right. "Let me take you, Jim," Gordon said, hands moving to guide him. West allowed himself to be arranged -- he knew what would happen and found that he welcomed it. "Yes," he replied, turning his face to glance over his shoulder at his partner. "Do it." White heat followed with the strange ramming of unbelievably huge flesh into him. His eyes screwed tightly shut against the pain -- he bit his lip as he waited - not entirely sure what he was waiting for. Then something bloomed inside him and West's body seemed to open to Gordon's assault. In spite of his masculine inclination for dominance, West found himself relinquishing any struggle -- any resistance. His body suddenly craved the pressure and invasion. He pressed his hips back in invitation and pushed his back firmly upward into the heat of Gordon's torso. Then West felt a jolt -- he saw tiny bolts of lightning pass in front of his lid-shuttered sight. He couldn't remember ever experiencing anything quite like it before, his entire body was engulfed in a vast pleasure tinged with a small, strange pain. He shuddered uncontrollably. Bolts of passion stunned him. Suddenly West realized he was hearing Gordon moan in thick-voiced pleasure, again and again. Gordon pushed back and away from him -- West was maddened by the lack of physical contact. He turned swiftly and took Gordon's now limp body into his arms, pulling them tightly together. "It's alright, Jim," Gordon managed to breathe, "I'm right here. Everything is just fine." Now that West was against Gordon he felt his body grow weak. His grip loosened, though he wouldn't allow his arms to completely break their hold. Finally opening his eyes to stare at his partner, he butted Gordon gently with his head, wanting to express non-vocal affection. Gordon gazed contentedly into West's blue eyes. "I know, Jim," he whispered, somehow understanding everything. "I love you, too." "Yes," West answered, blackness drawing him against his will. Yes. Artemus Gordon was his - he belonged to Artie. Artemus Gordon was his life and his love. It was all too simple - it had always been simple, if he'd only allowed himself to see Artie for the real partner he was. A lump rose in his throat, and with swimming eyes he flashed Gordon one of his most brilliant smiles. "That's my Jim," Gordon chuckled, delighted. "A man of many words. Ah, well. I suppose I have enough words for both of us." -the end-
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