flintfiction:

comtessedebussy: OH MY GOD I need multiple fics of Thomas using James as a writing desk. Please and thank you.

James blew out all the candles except for the one he sat beside the bed. The only other candle in the room was beside Thomas, who was hunched over in bed, quill scratching furiously over paper. James bit back a laugh at the sight.

Thomas had a pillow over his lap. On the pillow was a book and on the book was his piece of parchment. His bare knees stuck out from under the covers.

James climbed in beside him.

“You look absolutely ridiculous,” he said.

Thomas scoffed.

“That chair is unbearably stiff,” he replied defensively. “My back isn’t what is once was. Besides, I like the cushioning,” he added even as he arched his back and James heard it snap.

“Yes that looks much more comfortable,” he drolled out.

Thomas gave him a frown.

“If only I could find the right angle…”

Suddenly his eyes lit up.

“Would you lie down on your belly, darling?” he asked in his sweetest tone.

James eyed him suspiciously but did as he was asked.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” said Thomas. James grumbled that lying on his belly was anything but. Thomas removed the pillow and book from his lap.

“This had better be some kind of foreplay,” said James over his shoulder. He had stretched out, one leg crooked at an angle for comfort, his arms folded under his chin. He was totally nude. Thomas hummed out his approval, then placed his papers on James’s back, shuffling them around until they were directly in the middle.

“Thomas Hamilton!” James boomed. “You are not going to write on me.”

“Nonsense,” said Thomas, not remotely dissuaded from his task. “I am writing on this paper, which happens to be resting on your back. Now hold still or I’ll drip ink on you.”

“Oh Jesus,” James muttered. The quill jabbed him in the back.

“Ow!”

“Quit wiggling please,” came the reply.

“You shit,” James retorted over his shoulder.

Thomas grinned broadly at him and that was all it took to break his discontent.

Thomas scribbled away on James’s back for twenty more minutes. James enjoyed the sounds of the quill, his partner’s occasional breathy utterings, and the smell of fresh ink. Then he began to cramp. Thomas released him from his servitude.

“And are you satisfied with what you’ve written?” James asked him.

“With what I’ve written, yes,” replied the blonde. “Your back is an excellent writing desk. But now I am more interested in what other uses your body has.”

James grinned slowly, looking at him through his brows.

“Oh? Well let me show you.”

***