WELCOMING By Alison

6 in the "Waiting" series

Feedback to: xalison@excite.com, lammasday@yahoo.com

Fandom: The Lone Gunmen

Category: Langly/Byers slash

Disclaimer: They're not mine etc

Archive: Lone Slasher, WWOMB, Basement, Ephemeral, Gossamer, anyone else just ask

Spoilers: Nope

Summary: First Contact

John stood looking at himself in the mirror.

Well, this has gotta work. Surely it'll work this time.

Three days since Mel went up to New York, and we've only got four days left. Time's running out.

The last three days, I've done everything I can to make him see. Everything short of walking around naked. I thought he wanted me. But he hasn't so much as laid a finger on me. Surely I'm not mistaken? What do I have to do? Climb into bed naked with him? Strip off and get in the shower with him? Or maybe the direct approach. Hey Langly, how about it. Wanna fuck?

He shrugged out of his bathrobe and looked at himself critically, dressed in just his old worn blue pajama pants. Could be better . . . but I don't look too bad, do I? Thank God I've been working out a bit more recently. If only it was summer and I had a bit more of a tan . . . No, it's now or never. The two of us here alone together ... late at night ... ready for bed ... hardly any clothes on ... in my bedroom ... in the dark ... on the floor ... if this doesn't work, nothing will.

He took a deep breath, checked that everything was in place, and prepared to put his plan into operation.

The first Langly knew about it was the loud crash from the kitchen. He shot out of his bedroom and across the hall, and was faced with the sight of John in the kitchen, wearing nothing but those faded blue pajama pants (just a little too tight) crouching on the kitchen floor rummaging in one of the kitchen cupboards, with his slim back and shoulders and that very attractive ass in good view. Langly gulped and tried to keep his voice on an even keel; but all that came out was a strangled croak.

"Crysake Byers, whatcha doing? It's nearly one am! Whatcha looking for?"

"A flashlight".

"Okay, okay, ask a stupid question .. . what do you want a flashlight at this time of night?" and he flicked the light switch. "The power hasn't gone off."

John muttered "Lost contact lens".

"What!!!"

"I've dropped a contact lens, in my bedroom, while I was cleaning it. This is the best way of finding one, didn't you know? You turn out the lights and shine the flashlight around, and the lens catches the light and shows up."

"Yeah, yeah".

"You could always come and help me look".

"Sure, OK, this I gotta see".

// GOTCHA!! //

and John grabbed the flashlight and led the way back to his bedroom, Langly following behind and looking wistfully at his back view all the way.

John pushed the door of the bedroom closed. Now that the moment was so close at hand, he was scared. Shaking inside, almost terrified to go on and terrified to back out. He could feel Langly standing close beside him; smell the intoxicating smell of him just out of the shower, almost feel the heat coming off him. Heat like a radiator, he desperately wanted to touch. Langly was so close, that as he turned his head, John could feel his breath on his shoulder.

Langly looked around. "Okay Johnboy, where were you when it happened?"

He crossed to the bedside table. "it was over here somewhere. Can you turn the light out?"

Langly complied and in the same second John turned on the flashlight. Careful, mustn't find it too soon. Good job I do know exactly where it is ...."

He looked at Langly, bare-chested in the candlelight glow of the flashlight in nothing but his shorts. Slim and beautiful, pale skin and well defined muscle. . . God, he looks fantastic. Why did I never realise before? I only hope I look as good to him. "Somewhere down here . . ." and he knelt down by the bed, shining the flashlight carefully in the wrong direction.

"It figures you'd wear contacts" grumbled Langly, getting down on hands and knees and looking around critically. "Glasses are a lot less hassle".

"Sure, if you want to look like Garth" - that earned him a dirty look, and John could have bitten his tongue out. That particular brand of teasing had always been off limits, and he would never have said it if he hadn't been so nervous. Langly would probably walk out on him. But Langly didn't leave.

"I think it went down here by the bed" John mumbled, and started to shine the flashlight around the floor.

"Jeez, this floor is rough" complained Langly. "Make sure you don't get any splinters in your ass."

Well, at least the conversation was going in the right direction. Just hold that thought, Langly.

"Just keep looking, okay?"

Ten minutes later he was embarrassed and flustered and wishing he had never got into this. The contact lens had not made an appearance. They had however discovered an abandoned thumb tack when Langly inadvertently put his hand down on it -

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Langly"

- a piece of discarded candy bar wrapper -

"Hey, I did't realise you were a secret candy addict, Byers. Any other nighttime vices I should know about?"

//If only you knew ...//

a chip of glass midway between the two of them, which they both reached for at the same time -

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Langly"

as their heads met with a resounding crack;

and finally when Byers had accidentally shone the flashlight full into Langly's eyes -

"Ow!"

"Sorr -"

"Jeez, Byers, trying to kill me? Give me the flashlight, you're lethal with that thing" and Langly grabbed it before John could stop him. Langly shone it full at him and John blinked, feeling as paralysed as a rabbit in the headlights.

"Hey, there" Langly's exclamation came at the same second as John saw the diamond flash of the lens in the corner where he can so carefully planted it. But the sensation which overcame all his other senses was the brush of Langly's hair on his shoulder as he leant past John to pick up the lens.

"Here, Johnboy" and the lens was presented to him on the palm of Langly's outstretched hand in front of his face. He looked past the hand into Langly's eyes, wide-pupilled - was that just because of the dim light, or something more? - but the same old Langly cynical smirk.

"Uh, great, thanks Lang" John stammered and reached out, trying not to touch Langly's hand with his fingertips as he took it carefully.

He smiled at Langly and turned and put the lens back in its case. Turning back to Langly, he realised that his friend had not moved. Was just looking. Staring at him in the lamplight. John couldn't tear his eyes away. For what seemed like forever they just looked at each other, kneeling on the floor by the bed. John's heart was hammering. What do I do now? I've never seduced another man before. I was stupid to get into this. What do I do now? Langly, I know you want this. Do something!

And Langly did. He grinned at John, his usual tight unreadable grin that yet had something like pain behind it. He got to his feet. "Well, at least we can go to bed now....uh, I mean . . ."

For a couple more heartbeats John stayed kneeling there, at Langly's feet. Then he scrambled to his feet, but managed to stumble and started to lose his balance. Langly grabbed him by both shoulders, pulled him up and held him. Just held him, hands on John's biceps, closer now than they had ever been, eye to eye and breath to breath. They were almost exactly the same height; their faces were only inches apart. They stared at each other for another eternity.

"John ..."

"Yeah . . ."

Then Langly's arm was sliding behind his back, and his other hand was behind John's head, and in the next second his mouth was on John's. Arms pulling him close, contact of heat all down his body and igniting every cell in his body. And yes, it was really happening, Langly was really kissing him as he had never been kissed in his life before. Tentative for the first split second, then rapidly gaining strength and passion as he realised that John was not resisting, in fact was co-operating, and then not just co-operating but actively, enthusiastically responding.

Nothing in John's few previous experiences of sex with other guys had prepared him for this, for the uncontrollable tide of passion which rushed through him obliterating his inhibitions and reservations like a tidal wave. All he was aware of was Langly's arms round him, Langly's body pressing hard against him, and most of all Langly kissing him, desperately and voraciously, as if the chance might never come again. His lips were hard and demanding on John's own, his tongue was in John's mouth, probing and questioning, questions which John was doing his best to answer in a language he had almost forgotten, a language purely of instinct, all thought impossible.

But he must have been doing something right, because the kiss went on and on, until they broke apart eventually, gasping breathlessly, dumbstruck. Then Langly stiffened, his face closing down, as if horrified by what he had done. "Oh god . . ." and he started to pull himself away. But he was stopped by John tightening his hands on his shoulders.

"No." He met Langly's eyes, intensely, holding his gaze. "We've wasted too much time already."

The silence could have been only a couple of heartbeats, but it seemed to last the space of half an hour as they looked at each other, right in the eyes at last.

John knew the next move was up to him; he reached out to touch the blond hair as he had so longed to do, as he had only ever done once before, that one time casually and carelessly in the hotel room in Las Vegas; this time running it through his fingers like fine silk, exactly as he had known it would be. He met Langly's eyes again; eyes that had never left his face, drinking him down like water in the desert.

He pulled Langly towards him, taking control now for the first time, and the kiss was deep, long, passionate and tender all at the same time; tongues sliding gently against each other and mouths melting together. Langly's hands were sliding down his back now, over his ass, pulling their hips tight together, and he could feel something hard that could only be Langly's cock pressing against his belly. Then one hand moved, slid up and under the waistband of his pants and down again, sliding hot over his skin and over the curve of his ass, and he moaned aloud and felt his legs start to weaken under him and lurched back, pulling Langly with him, feeling the bed behind him as he stepped back and half fell, half slid down on to the bed with Langly partly beside him and partly on top.

Langly rolled over on top of him, one hand completing the task of pushing his pants off of his hips, then hooking his leg over John's hip, his erection pressing hard against John's thigh. His fingers were digging hard into John's arms, his weight on top of John triggering a wave of heat that rippled through every nerve in his body. Langly took his mouth again in a long consuming kiss, pressing his head back into the pillows, and John felt as if his entire body was melting like wax. Langly was like a force of nature, elemental, unstoppable as a fire or a flood, and John felt no more able to resist him than he would a hurricane.

He pulled his mouth away from Langly's long enough to cry out in sheer joy and relief. Langly hitched himself up a a little, a questioning, panicking look crossing his face. He was breathing hard, and when he was able to speak his voice was like John had never heard it before, husky with passion. "John . . for godsake, if you want me to stop, tell me now because . . you go on doing this to me and I won't be able to stop . . ."

John grabbed at Langly's shoulders. "Langly . . . *Ringo*, Ringo . . . you stop now and I'll never speak to you again . . ."

Langly let out a long shuddering breath, half sigh, half laugh, and dropped his head towards John's chest. "Oh god, John, you're killing me here . . you don't know what you're doing to me . . . it's been so long . . ."

John reached for him, tangling his hands in the blonde hair, pulling his head up so Langly was forced to look at him. "I want you." He moved his hands to Langly's hips, pulling the shorts down and exposing the whole of that beautiful pale body for the first time, letting his gaze rove over the chest, belly and down to the groin and the flushed, hard cock. He felt his heartrate increase and an involuntary shudder of anticipation shook his whole body. "I want you, Ringo."

Langly was propped over him, hands each side of John's body, panting a little, poised like a predator with his prey helpless beneath him, ready for the kill. John moved his head a little, exposing his throat, an action of pure basic instinct; Langly paused a split second, swallowed, then swooped to fasten his mouth at the base of John's neck, mouthing and licking, his breath hot on John's skin, moving upwards to the sensitive point under his ear and along the line of his beard.

John pulled him closer, tightening his arms round Langly, thrilling to the feel of him in his arms at last, the smell and the taste of him when he began to kiss down Langly's neck. Langly gasped out loud when he found a particular sensitive point on his shoulder and his hips thrust instinctively against John. The movement crushed John's already hard cock between their bodies; he hadn't realised how hard he was getting. He could feel Langly's cock too, hard against his balls, throbbing hot and wet against him. He had forgotten the incredible heat of another man, how much it turned him on.

So long ago: so much he had forgotten. The smell of another man's arousal mixed with his own; the sheer compelling weight of another man's body on top of him; the hardness of muscle and bone and the heat of an erect cock pressing against his belly as Langly found his mouth once again.

So long ago: but it had never been like this. He knew he had never been desired, wanted, loved like this. Langly seemed literally unable to stop kissing him; breaking away only to catch a gasping breath before returning to his exploration of John's mouth. John gave himself up to it; willingly letting Langly do whatever he wanted.

He moved downward, biting ravenously on John's neck, muttering incoherent syllables that made no sense. John could only murmur reassuringly, encouragingly in his ear, meanwhile giving in to his own impulse to let his hands roam over Langly's shoulders and down his spine, exploring for the first time the firm muscles of the shoulders, the smooth skin over the ribcage and the enticing curve of the buttocks. He ran his hands lightly, savouringly over the skin of Langly's ass, exploring everywhere he had longed to touch, searching out every curve of his body, knowing he would have all the time in the world, later, to discover every inch of his lover.

Langly's hair had fallen over John's face, light and sweet smelling and tingling wherever it touched, almost burning on John's skin. John shifted his hips, moved his legs apart and Langly felt it, gasped and thrust his hips against John's, moaning deep in his throat. John felt the vibration right through him, sending a shaft of pure lust from his chest down to his groin. He was harder than he had thought possible; excitement and desire making him more aroused than he ever remembered being for years. He wrapped his arms tight around Langly's shoulders, pulling him closer and thrusting up against him.

He could feel Langly's cock hard against his own, pushing against him harder than ever, both of them hot and engorged, weeping stickiness against their bellies and mingling with their sweat. He was so close to the edge now, and Langly was too . .there was no time for anything else, so this was how it was going to be, their first time, so easy, so simple . . . he opened his legs further and wrapped his thighs round Langly's hips, pushing up against the other man, desperate to get closer, closer, welcoming Langly in every way he could.

He slid his hands up and down Langly's biceps, feeling the tension in the muscles as they tensed and and relaxed in regular rhythm; Langly was supporting himself on his elbows, his head close above John's again, his hands tangled in John's hair. He was thrusting deliberately against John now, the pumping of his hips a counterpoint to John's own movements, and they were spiralling upward together, pulling each other up, up towards the peak, together, finally together at last. Somehow in the final screaming desperate split seconds before his climax took him, John was aware of Langly's mouth fastening on his again before his orgasm broke over him in a soundless explosion.

A long time later when he finally opened his eyes, he wasn't sure where he was. A golden mist was all he could see, and something warm and firm was pressed against him all down his right side. Blinking to clear his vision he realised that the gold was the dim lamplight shining through gold hair; gold hair was draped all over his face. Pushing it out of his eyes and squinting sideways he saw the face of his lover; Langly was asleep like a child with his head on John's shoulder, snuggled against him with his arm across John's chest. Face calm and peaceful and innocent, as John had never seen him before.

He bent his head to press a kiss to Langly's forehead, and the younger man murmured sleepily, his lips twitching and eyelids fluttering. John settled back, smiling to himself. Let him sleep. He had the feeling they were both going to need all the rest they could get.

Let him sleep. But not too long . . .

THE END
(of the beginning . . . :) coming soon: "Afterglow""