Eiffel Tower

(≧◡≦)

POV: Jes

Kissing. Yes, he longed for it. Fifteen hours on a flight, side by side, and still—nothing. Jes told himself to be patient, to let Bible set the pace, to follow his tempo. But was he even playing the same song?

Because Bible didn't seem stressed at all. Not one bit. Meanwhile, Jes was sitting there like a desperate teenage girl with a crush, quietly combusting next to a boy who was absolutely absorbed in his airline menu.

Not just that—Bible ate everything. Chicken, pasta, dessert, even Jes's bread roll when he wasn't looking.

Then came the movies. Two whole action flicks, during which Bible's emotional range peaked at a few "oohs" and "damn bro"s. And then? He slept. Like a damn baby.

Jes turned slightly, looking at his sleeping husband. "Unbelievable," he whispered to himself, watching Bible's mouth slightly open as he snored lightly, completely at peace while Jes was over here drowning in want.

He'd tried hints, okay? He tried. He even did the cheesy romantic movie fork-drop thing. You know, the old oops-I-dropped-my-fork-near-you-so-we-both-reach-and-our-hands-touch-and-love-sparks-fly trick? Yeah. Epic failure. Bible just picked it up, said "You're clumsy," and handed it back.

Then came attempt number two: the Blanket Move™. Jes "accidentally" let his own blanket slip away, just to see if Bible would share his. Maybe scooch a little closer. Cute, right?

Nope.

Bible, without missing a beat, waved over the stewardess, the same stewardess he shamelessly flirted with earlier, and said, "Excuse me, can I get another blanket? He lost his."

Jes sat there. Cold. Betrayed. Watching as she fluttered her lashes and handed Bible a fresh blanket like he was a damn prince. Bible took it, smiled (of course), wrapped himself up like a burrito, and said, "Thanks, you're kinda warm but I like having my own."

Jes stared straight ahead, blinking like he'd just been slapped with a frozen croissant.

People. I swear. He tried.

He looked at Bible, peacefully asleep, drooling a little, fully blanketed, clearly the most emotionally unavailable airplane husband to ever exist.

"This is fine," Jes muttered under his breath, clutching the tiny pillow like a lifeline. "Just fifteen hours of soft torture."

(≧◡≦)

"WOOOOOW," Bible said for what felt like the fiftieth time, and they had only walked maybe five meters out of the airport.

"WOOOOOW," he repeated, eyes huge behind his sunglasses as he spun around like a tourist possessed. "Jes! Look at that building, WOOOOW! Look at that café! WOW, they have croissants here!"

Jes was hauling two suitcases, a tote bag, and Bible's entire personality as they stumbled through Charles de Gaulle like two mismatched puzzle pieces. Jes didn't speak a word of French. Bible didn't speak a word of direction.

"Bible, please," Jes muttered through clenched teeth, scanning the signs for the taxi spot. "Just follow me."

But Bible was already halfway across the sidewalk, filming an Instagram story of himself under a "Bienvenue à Paris" sign, shouting "GUYS I'M IN PAREEEE!"

Jes dragged him back like a mother with a sugar-high toddler, shoving him toward the taxi line. "Please. I'm begging you. Just... sit."

After ten more "WOW"s and a detour into a tourist stand ("Jes, they sell mini Eiffel Towers for 1 Euro!"), they finally found a taxi. Jes opened the door, practically threw the suitcases inside, and then shoved Bible into the backseat like he was smuggling chaos itself.

"Hey, watch the hair!" Bible protested, fixing his cap and sunglasses. "Is this how you treat your husband? In the city of love?"

Jes slammed the door shut and exhaled, eyes twitching. "We've been here ten minutes. I'm already finished."

Bible giggled, already halfway out the window, shouting "Bonjour!" at pedestrians.

Jes looked out the other window and whispered to himself, "This was a mistake."

The time zone hit them like a slap in the face, and so did the weather. It was freezing. Like, properly cold, the kind that bites through your clothes even when the sun pretends to be out.

Jes huffed into his scarf. This was not the beach. The fantasy of lying half-naked on a sun-drenched island, sipping coconut juice, was now buried somewhere under the grey Parisian sky.

But then... he looked at Bible.

Eyes wide, sparkling like a kid seeing snow for the first time on Christmas morning, turning in circles, grinning like an idiot at random buildings. Jes exhaled a cloud of warm breath and couldn't help but smile. At least someone was happy. And if nothing else, he'd managed to give him this moment.

Still, Jes hadn't slept at all on the plane. Not a minute. Meanwhile, Bible? Out like a baby for ten solid hours, waking up fresh and annoyingly energized while Jes looked like the crypt keeper in designer shoes.

His entire body ached, his brain was swimming in jet lag, and all he wanted in this world, truly, was a hot shower at the hotel. Yes. That. That dream was still alive.

They checked into the hotel, and damn, the interior was stunning. Classy, elegant, the kind of place where you feel underdressed no matter what you're wearing.

Jes held his breath as they stepped into the elevator, and Bible was still pointing at chandeliers like they were UFOs. Jes nervously fidgeted with the room key, suddenly remembering a very important detail.

Oh no.

The door opened with a soft click. And there it was.

The room.

Correction: the honeymoon suite.

The bedroom was basically a luxury living room wearing silk. The kind of room that whispered, we're rich, in love, and definitely having sex at least twice a day. Giant kingsize bed. A view of the Eiffel Tower. Floor-to-ceiling windows. But worst of all?

Red. Freaking. Roses. On the sheets.

Jes froze.

He had done this. He booked this room when he was high on feelings, and late-night Google searches like "romantic Paris honeymoon hotel." And it showed. It screamed:

'I'm going to fuck you so hard you forget what country we're in.''Screw the Eiffel Tower—climb MINE instead.'

Bible blinked once. Then again. He tilted his head like a confused puppy.

Jes? Jes was already panicking internally. Abort mission. Jump out the window. Blame the travel agency. Lie. Fake a heart attack. Something. Anything.

Bible walked in slowly, taking it all in. Then turned to him with the most suspicious face he had ever worn.

"...Are we actually on our honeymoon?"

Jes's soul left his body.

"I—didn't know it was gonna be a room with roses on top," Jes said, lying so miserably even the hotel wallpaper looked disappointed in him.

Bible paused in the doorway. And then... that grin. That stupid, cute, devastating grin that Jes was starting to recognize as a sign of danger..

"Mmmh, I see," Bible said, walking in like he owned the place. "Well, I like red roses."

Jes blinked. "You do?"

Bible threw his bag on the chair, flopped onto the giant kingsize bed, and spread out like a lazy cat. "Yeah. Especially when someone else pays for them."

Jes breathed in—deep, shaky, relieved. Thank god. No teasing. No jokes about honeymoon vibes. No "oh so you wanna bang me in Paris now" kind of chaos.

Silence.

Until Bible turned his head and added casually, "But just so you know, the bed screams 'we're doing it.'"

Jes coughed. Hard.

"Just saying," Bible said, plucking a rose petal and tossing it at him with a smirk.

Jes picked it up from his chest and muttered, "I should've just booked two single beds..."

Bible wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. "You should have, but you didn't. So... does that mean Mr. Tilapornputt faire l'amour avec moi?" He stood up and sauntered toward Jes like pure temptation incarnate.

Jes swallowed hard, heat rising to his cheeks. "I'm not gonna lie... Oui," he breathed, voice low and shaky.

Bible froze mid-step, eyes wide. Then, clearing his throat, he suddenly turned away and said, "Okay, I just remembered, I need to shower. After that, we can go out to eat and get a close-up look at the Eiffel Tower. You in?"

Jes blinked, heart pounding. "Sure... showers first. Definitely showers first."

(≧◡≦)

As Bible stepped into the shower, Jes was left alone in the room, battling his own thoughts like a man possessed. Damn, he thought, do I wanna kiss him? Yes. So bad. Is that allowed? Can I just... do that? His brain was short-circuiting from days, of craving that man like a guilty pleasure snack he'd sworn off.

Jes flopped dramatically onto the bed for half a second before springing back up like, Shit. How am I this desperate?

Then came the final, glorious lightbulb moment: Screw it. We've literally seen each other naked, multiple times. A harmless shower together? With my husband? That should be fine, right? Just vibes. No touching. Innocent.

With the confidence of a man about to fake accidental intimacy, Jes summoned all his willpower, marched toward the bathroom, and opened the door like he was entering a boardroom, except wetter and much less professional.

Inside, the steam curled around Bible like a scene out of a drama, and Jes nearly choked on the atmosphere, literally and emotionally. Because what he saw nearly knocked the breath out of him.

Bible. In the mist. Clearly fumbling with his own body.

Jes blinked. Twice.And his brain short-circuited again.

"W–What are you doing?" Jes squeaked out, voice cracking like a teenager caught snooping.

Bible spun around like he'd been caught committing a crime, eyes wide with sheer horror. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!" he yelled, almost tripping over his own panic, and his words.

Jes's eyes instinctively dropped.Big mistake.Huge.

The water was streaming over Bible's body like a scene out of an R-rated shampoo commercial, and yeah, his arousal was... very present. Jes's brain short-circuited AGAIN.

"I—" he tried, but nope. No thoughts. Just pure, unfiltered want. Honestly, he hadn't been this turned on since the entire flight to Paris when Bible fell asleep with his head on his shoulder.

Without saying another word, Jes unbuttoned his pants like a man on a mission, flung off his shirt, and locked eyes with his very shocked, very naked husband.

"I'm taking a shower," he declared, stepping forward with the confidence of a lion on the prowl. "With my man."

Bible didn't even have time to protest. Jes had already stepped under the water, letting it soak his body, his hair plastering to his forehead as he looked at Bible like he was dessert and Jes hadn't eaten in days.

The tension? Palpable.The situation? Unhinged.Jes? Committed.

"You touched yourself without me," Jes whispered, his breath warm against Bible's skin, lips hovering just inches away. Their bodies didn't touch, barely a wisp of air between them.

Bible looked up at him, clearly flustered, cheeks pink, pupils blown wide. "I... I wanted to prepare myself," he mumbled.

Jes raised an eyebrow, playing dumb like it was his favorite sport. "Prepare yourself? For what?" he asked, voice velvety and smug, like he didn't already know the answer and just wanted to hear it from that sweet, overwhelmed little mouth.

Bible hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. "Um... so that you can... use me."

Jes's brain practically exploded. Oh god, he thought, this is better than anything I ever dared to imagine.

His voice dropped lower, rough. "Use you for what, sweetheart?"

Bible blinked slowly, swallowing hard. "Use me... for your desire," he said, voice trembling but full of submission.

Jes exhaled sharply, composure slipping by the second.This man, he thought.His husband was going to be the death of him.And what a sweet, sinful way to go.

Jes kissed him.

The warm water cascaded around them, cloaking their bodies in heat and steam. It was almost too much, too intimate, too intoxicating. They could barely breathe, not from lack of air, but from how hungry the moment was.

Jes's lips captured Bible's smaller mouth, soft and slick, with the faintest taste of shampoo lingering like some addictive candy. It was the sweetest thing Jes had ever licked, and he wasn't planning to stop anytime soon.

His tongue traced along Bible's bottom lip, teasing it open, their mouths crashing together again, this time harder. It was soft and forceful all at once, a clash of need and affection.

Then Jes bit down gently, catching Bible's bottom lip between his teeth.

Bible gasped, then hissed with a shiver of delight. "God," Jes breathed, "I missed your sweet little mouth on my lips."

Bible grinned, pupils dark and glinting with mischief. "I can use it for other things too," he said, voice low and dripping with promise.

Jes let out a shaky laugh. "You sure you won't hurt yourself?" His voice was teasing, but the image in his head, that mouth wrapped around him, was borderline blasphemous. Dangerous.

But Bible didn't answer with words.He was already on a mission.

With water still streaming over him, Bible sank to his knees, looking up at Jes with parted lips, tongue flicking out slightly as he opened his mouth in perfect, wicked demonstration.

Jes's breath caught. His entire brain stopped functioning for a moment.

That picture—I'm framing it, he thought, right before that warm, sinful small mouth wrapped around him completely.

And then—well.He forgot how to speak.

Bible's lips slid slowly down Jes's length, his tongue swirling expertly around the tip, teasing, tasting, making the filthiest, wet sounds that echoed softly in the steamy shower. Jes let out a deep, guttural moan, his head tipping back as pleasure surged through him.

He reached down, gently cupping Bible's face and tilting it upward, needing, craving, those eyes on him.

"Look at me," Jes said, his voice low and ragged. "How does it taste?"

Bible popped him out with a slick, obscene sound, spit glistening on his lips as he grinned up. "Salty," he said with a wink, eyes playful and unbothered.

Jes chuckled, breathless. "You take it in like it's candy."

Bible didn't even reply. He just smirked, and went right back to work, wrapping his lips around him again, slow and sure. Jes's fingers tangled in his wet hair, gripping gently but firmly to guide the rhythm.

And oh, he had to fight so hard not to just lose control and shove his cock down Bible's tight throat.

(≧◡≦)

POV: AuthorOh dear Lord, please forgive them.They just landed in Paris...hahahhaha