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Jan’s got this whole thing about sensory stuff.
He’s particular about all of his clothes. He insists they have to be specific materials and fabrics. He abhors velvet because it can “lie wrong”. He loves anything that’s soft and slinky, silky. He prefers neutral colors. The dyes don’t agitate his skin too much, and other colors sometimes do. He washes their sheets once a week to make sure they don’t get too grimy feeling. It’s a million and one little things Jan does that would probably drive someone else up the goddamn wall, but Jamie gets it.
He’s got his own things.
Jamie loves it when Jan lies on top of him like his own, 6’4 weighted blanket. He loves that even in sleep, Jan always needs to touch him. A heavy arm around his waist, a hand over his chest, his face nosing at the crook of Jamie’s neck. Even when they’re at Nelson Road, they’re touching. Constantly. Jamie’s just happy that they play a contact sport that calls for so much errant, casual touch that nobody questions it. He sometimes sleeps with a special mask pulled over his eyes that sits snug around his forehead. It helps prevent headaches, it can be frozen so it’s cold, and it blocks out any light that streams in through Jan’s bedroom window.
Jan’s got his eccentricities, sure, but Jamie’s makes them a matching pair.
It’s probably why they’re so good together. Not perfect, yeah, but nobody is. They’re really fucking good. Like, Jamie’s convinced that they’re as close to perfect as perfect can get. Dating Jan is just… Easy. Between Jamie’s lack of filter and Jan’s cultural insistence on speaking plainly and bluntly, there’s surprisingly little room for miscommunication. Case in point…
“It’s silk,” Jamie offers. Jan rubs at the strip of fabric in his hand. It is, indeed, very nice silk. Cool to the touch. Black. Not likely to irritate his skin or make it crawl from the material being the wrong kind. Jan already feels the warmth pooling low in his gut, the heat curling high in his cheeks. Jamie’s grinning at him all crooked. “You had mentioned it a while back, yeah? Wanting to try sensory deprivation? Did some research, and I figured starting small with maybe a blindfold would be good,” he explains.
“... Ja. This is very nice,” Jan murmurs. It really is. “You… Thought about this. A lot?” he ventures. Jamie nods.
“Yeah. Hadn’t heard of it before, but it sounded like it could be fun. Most things you mention end up being fun. Weren’t sure if you were meaning for me to get all sensory deprived, or if you wanted it for you, so I tried to get something either of us could enjoy,” he says. Jan nods slowly, then curls his free hand around Jamie’s hip before he tugs him close and kisses him. He loves his boyfriend so much. He really does. He isn’t just thinking that because they’re both nude, and because Jamie’s clearly intent on making him feel good. The words are difficult for either of them to say. It’s only been something that’s been whispered or moaned a handful of times over the past six months. Jan’s okay with that. Sometimes, it’s easier to say it without words.
I love you.
Jamie tugs the blindfold away and cups Jan’s cheeks.
I love you.
Jan slowly eases down onto the bed, then guides Jamie with him. One hand still at his hip, the other cradling the back of his neck.
I love you.
Jamie pauses to press their foreheads together. To give Jan a chance to breathe. To savor the grounding, steady contact.
I love you.
Jan’s easing back, both hands now steadying Jamie by the waist while he moves so that he’s on his back and Jamie’s straddling him.
I love you.
Jamie’s touch is so gentle as he presses another kiss to the corner of Jan’s mouth, then trails them along his jaw and to his neck. He made sure to wash the sheets earlier in the day. Jan’s sinking into cool, smooth grey sheets at the moment. Bare skin luxuriating in the simple pleasure of it.
“I love you,” Jan whispers.
“I love you, too,” Jamie echoes.
It’s never been this simple. Not for either of them. Jamie’s always hated saying ‘I love you’. For the most part, the words feel cheap and insincere on his tongue. He’s probably said them dozens or hundreds of times over the years, but he’s really only meant them a few times here in the last year. Jan’s just… Never really gotten close enough to anyone for those words to be right. It’s still new. That strange flutter in his chest. The way it makes his pulse thrum. The way it makes his rougher edges soften, his brows relax, and his brain… Stop. Because it feels like it’s always going too fast, but Jamie understands. His brain is similar, and there’s blissful quiet when they’re together like this. The words feel right.
“I don’t want to see what you’re planning to do to me,” Jan says. He grins a bit when Jamie’s eyes flash, that mesmerizing mercury he’s so familiar with.
“Y’want me to say what I’m doing, at least? Don’t wanna shock you too bad,” Jamie offers. Jan’s heart swells so much in his chest that he worries it will one day burst. He nods.
“Please. I love how you sound,” he says. Jamie ducks down to kiss him again, then gestures for him to lift his head off the pillow. His fingers are careful, if a bit shaky, while he loops the silk around Jan’s head and over his eyes. He hums while he straightens it out, smooths it, and ensures no wrinkle or seam might irritate Jan, then ensures it won’t slip away and is secure.
“How much can you see, babe?” Jamie prompts. Jan hums softly before he shakes his head.
“Very little. Your silhouette is very… Dull?” he ventures. He hopes that makes sense. It must, because then that dull silhouette is closer.
“Good. M’gonna kiss you again,” Jamie decides. Jan sighs into it. The brush of Jamie’s lips feels… Magnified. Without his sight, touch feels stronger. Something as simple and innocuous as a kiss sends sparks down his spine. “Moving away to get the lube, then we’re gonna start,” he adds.
“Ja, sounds… Good,” Jan manages after a moment. His head is already blissfully empty and quiet. There’s the familiar slide of the top drawer of their nightstand. The rustle and clink of the contents moving while Jamie rummages. The little ‘aha!’ Jamie lets out before the drawer closes, and then the pop of the cap opening. Jan shivers at the sound. It feels so loud in their bedroom. Like a gunshot, almost, making his heart beat faster in anticipation. There’s already gooseflesh rising and dotting his skin.
“Easing off your lap, babe. How do you want this?” Jamie asks. Jan reminds himself again that they are both so, so very lucky to be with each other. His past forays into sexual intimacy were… Less than pleasant. Never violent or cruel, thank god, but certainly lacking in care and agency. Other men saw the 6’4 defender from Ajax and assumed he would always top, always be dominant, and always want it rough and fast. Jamie’s the first to really ask.
“Missionary. Slow. Want to feel you stretching me open,” Jan murmurs. He feels shy despite it all. Even though he swears he hears Jamie grin while he shuffles back, then gently nudges his thighs apart.
“Lubing up a finger. It’s that nice stuff, the silicone kind with no fragrance,” Jamie explains. There’s something equal parts soothing and arousing about getting a guided walkthrough from his boyfriend, Jan muses. “Warmed it up as much as I can,” he warns. Jan still shudders when that first brush of Jamie’s finger registers. His mouth falls open while he moans, low and sweet, his cock twitching in interest. He spreads his legs a bit more when he feels the pressure against his hole. Jamie’s probably staring. He swears he can feel the weight of his gaze, hungry and mesmerized and adoring all at once, while he slowly pets at his rim until Jan’s squirming and trying to press down into the sensation.
“Please,” Jan murmurs. “Jamie–I want it inside now. Please,” he says. Through the darkness of the blindfold, he sees the vague motion of Jamie nodding his head. He sighs in relief when that pressure builds, and then Jamie’s slowly sliding into the second knuckle.
“You really open easy for me,” Jamie muses. He sounds so fucking fond when he says it, all soft and endearing while he thrusts his finger. “I can’t wait to see if your body still recognizes me when I’m quiet,” he teases. Jan snorts at that.
“You–that is funny. You, quiet,” he huffs. Jamie crooks his finger up so the pad of it rubs at Jan’s prostate. Jan’s hips jerk up helplessly before he grinds down against it.
“Cheeky,” Jamie says, drawing the word out while he rubs slow circles into the familiar bit of tissue. He watches while Jan’s cock hardens fully, flushing red at the tip and drooling precum on his stomach. He hums before he adds a little more lube to a second finger. “Ready for the second one, babe?” he asks. Jan can only nod. There’s color high in the apples of his cheeks. Jamie’s certain his eyes are glassy already, with moisture gathering there. Despite Jan’s insistence during their first clumsy, fumbling experience that he isn’t someone who cries regularly during sex, Jamie’s been able to prove him wrong. It’s more often than not that he ends up teary-eyed when they’re together.
“Feels so good,” Jan slurs. He loves the stretch and slight burn of the second finger. He revels in the sensation, that dull ache, that gentle twinge that reminds him there’s a give and a take to this. No matter how often they go through these motions, these rituals, he’s never fully prepared until Jamie’s helping him. He isn’t sure why all these fanciful, romantic notions keep flitting through his brain. He isn’t complaining. They make him feel all warm and soft, keep his brain quiet and easy. “Move, please,” he begs. His voice cracks. His breath hitches. His eyes are wet. He wonders if the silk will darken enough for Jamie to see it. He gets his answer when Jamie’s free hand rests over his heart, fingers splaying wide, smile so big he hears it.
“I’ve got you, Jan. I’m right here,” Jamie murmurs. He listens. Two fingers thrust slowly, gently, never too hard or too fast. Jan speaks little about the experiences he’s had before Jamie. Jamie gets it, though. People don’t look past his own muscle or build, his fame as a professional twat, and they assume he likes it rough, can just take whatever they dish out. That’s fun sometimes. Jamie and Jan like that sometimes. They just also like slow, easy, and gentle, too. Jamie scissors his fingers when Jan starts to shift restlessly. “I know. Almost done,” he promises. He loves getting to see this side of Jan. The side that’s needy, clingy, and submissive. It’s so special. It’s all Jamie’s. He’s gotta be the luckiest bastard in the U.K.
“Inside,” Jan manages. Every word he says feels heavy on his tongue. Jamie’s whispering to him, but it sounds loud. The blindfold intensifies it all. Jan loves it. He whines a moment at the loss of Jamie’s fingers. There’s the pop of the lube again, the little hiss Jamie lets out when he drizzles the cold lube straight onto his cock, and then the contented sigh when his fist curls loosely around him so he can give himself a few strokes.
“Yeah. Inside, Jan. M’gonna be inside,” Jamie murmurs. He sounds all dreamy, soft, and Jan knows there’s a devastatingly fond haze to grey eyes. The mattress creaks softly, dipping while Jamie’s weight shifts, and Jan knows he’s crawling closer on his knees. Jamie hums before he grabs one of their more plush pillows, then pats Jan’s thighs. “Up,” he commands. It’s said so gently. Jan lifts his thighs, face burning red, while he puts himself on display. Jamie’s quick to get the pillow wedged up under his arse where it needs to be to give Jan the right support. Jamie settles back in between Jan’s thighs.
“Oh–fuck,” Jan gasps. Jamie’s cock always surprises him when the blunt head nudges at his fluttering hole. Jamie moves slowly and easily, carefully pressing until he’s sinking into perfect, slick heat. Jan’s always so snug around him.
“So fucking perfect for me, Jan. You always let me in so nicely,” Jamie mumbles, nosing at Jan’s neck before he mouths lightly at his pulse point. Jan lets out this soft noise in response before his hands find Jamie’s shoulders and anchor there. This is part of why he loves missionary so much. He loves that he can touch Jamie all he likes. It feels real this way, intimate. Even without seeing. “There we go. See? You take me so well,” he praises, bottoming out. Jan’s short nails dig into Jamie’s skin. Fuck, he loves going into training after a nice weekend with scratches up and down his back, hickeys all over his neck. Jan always preens a bit while the rest of the lads tease Jamie’s patchwork of lust.
Nobody knows who it's from, and that makes it feel even more special. A secret just for them.
“Jamie. J-Jamie, please move,” Jan urges. Jamie nods. He’s a very good listener in bed, yeah? That’s when he swears he listens best. He moves. His thrusts are slow, shallow, just enough movement to rock their bodies together and leave Jan’s leaking cock throbbing between their stomachs. Jamie doesn’t settle into a proper rhythm until he hears that little sob that tells him he’s got Jan’s prostate again. Then he grits his teeth and makes sure each thrust is deep, still slow, nailing it dead-on each time so he can maximize Jan’s pleasure. Jan’s got a shorter refractory period, after all, Jamie’s been able to get him off three times in one romp before he’s cum. It’s fun.
Tonight’s not a night for that, though. Jamie knows it without even asking. Jan’s been tense since he woke up. Jan needs to be fucked thoroughly, taken apart, then lovingly put back together from the inside out. That’s what this is. Not a marathon romp, but not a quickie. A slow, deep fuck to help shut his brain off and leave it off so he can sleep tonight.
Jamie’s really fucking good at that.
The blindfold helps. It’s like Jan’s body is alight, on fire, everything dialed up to eleven. Depriving one sense really can heighten all the others. He feels the way Jamie grunts, he hears the way his hips hit his thighs, and it’s all perfect. This wonderful experience that verges on overstimulation. Not the kind with too bright lights or too loud hum of electronics, but the kind that shuts his brain off and makes it slowly melt out of his ears.
“Close!” Jan sobs, realizing with sudden, sharp clarity that he is close, and Jamie’s not even really touching his cock. Jamie nods before he presses a kiss to Jan’s lips. He buries himself fully in Jan and grinds his hips in tight, little circles. Jan’s so fucking full he swears he’ll pop. Whenever Jamie does this, all he can think about is his body reshaping itself, molding to his cock, getting rid of everything else just so he can be the perfect cocksleeve for him. That’s the thought that makes him cum. Being a perfect toy for Jamie.
Jamie follows soon after, still kissing Jan while he grinds through the aftershocks. They’re both slick with sweat. When he undoes the blindfold and slips it over Jan’s head, he isn’t surprised to see red-rimmed eyes and a familiar shine under his eyes.
“There we are. There’s my Jan,” Jamie murmurs. Jan leans into the soft kisses, the gentle nuzzling, already half-asleep between the usual exhaustion of fantastic sex and the haze of Jamie’s undivided attention post-coitus. He hovers in that state long enough to drink the water Jamie gives him, and to let Jamie wipe his stomach, chest, and thighs clean with a warm, wet cloth. Then Jamie’s settling into bed beside him, lying down, and tugging their favorite duvet up to their chests. He’s staring up at Jan through half-open eyes. There’s that fondness again. That soft adoration Jan enjoys so much.
“... Love you, Jamie,” Jan yawns.
“Love you too, Jan,” Jamie whispers.
Sleep comes so easily after that. Both of their brains are quiet for the time being. Their breathing slowly syncs up, heart rates slowing, and bodies moving closer until it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins…