u r hot. want 2 hook up y/n?

a/s/l?

30s/yes pls/hotel room down the hall

OMG Ewan that u?

no i'm colin farrell

o ok. phew! ur place or mine?

mine. am already naked & waiting 4 u

want me 2 bring ne thng?

just your dick :D

omw : )

( Grinning, Ewan drops his mobile on the sofa and pulls his shirt off over his head. He grabs a book off the coffee table and uses it to prop the door open, then undoes his fly, shoves his jeans down and kicks them off on his way to the bedroom. There. Naked. And a few seconds later he's stretched out on the bed and got the waiting part down, too. )

Jude: Ewan walks in, Jude following him closely, his hand tucked around Ewan's arm. Both are dressed as musicians: Jude's wearing a black tux with a bow-tie and a saxophone strung around his neck, Ewan the same only carrying a trumpet.

Jude: *looks around at a couple just finishing a fuck* Missed the action I see.

Mark: *glances up and sees them, grins wide* Yeah, they've been putting on a show for me.

Mark: *stands to meet Jude and Ewan* Christ, it's good to see you two.

( Flirting 101 )

[follows from here]

Ewan yawns and stretches, slinging an arm around Jude's shoulders and crowding against him as he unlocks the door. "We should do that more often," he says, grinning.

"Yeah, it was a blast! Just like old times, eh?" Jude shoves the door, half falling into the hallway as it crashes open. "We should have stopped off at the corner shop for Special Brew and condoms!"

"Ah, the good old days." Ewan laughs, shutting the door behind them and pulling Jude close. He cups Jude's arse in both hands, brushes his lips across Jude's, and murmurs, "I'm sure we'll make do somehow..."

"I've got some condoms somewhere," Jude adds, leaning against Ewan, "but we'll have to make do with premium beer. In bottles. How civilised." He licks Ewan's nose playfully and then grins at him, showing his teeth. "We've come so far. Maybe I should pretend to be all reluctant straight boy again."

"Ooh, a challenge." Grinning, Ewan raises his eyebrows and gives Jude's arse a squeeze. ( ''You drunk enough to let me fuck you?'' )

"You want some more water?" Jude says, keeping his voice neutral. "There's some chilled in the fridge. Or juice. We have plenty of juice."

"No, I..." Ewan says. "It's fine." It's not my bladder that's the problem. Christ, he should have known better. He takes a step closer, laces his fingers through Jude's hair and rubs the head of his cock over Jude's bottom lip. "Suck me some more, maybe that'll..."

"Okay..." Jude opens his mouth and leans in, letting Ewan's cock slide between his lips. He sucks gently, using his tongue to play with the folds of Ewan's foreskin, trying to encourage a reaction. Ewan's moan sounds more like frustration than pleasure. Jude sucks harder, tries a different angle, his knee squeaking on the slick surface of the tub as he moves. ( Nothing seems to be working. )

"I sent that DVD to Rachel today, by the way." It's late and he's really only ringing to hear Ewan's voice but Jude figures he might as well get the business part of the phone call out of the way. "Hope she'll like it."

"I hope it doesn't get stolen!" Ewan laughs. "I may be an exhibitionist, but being the star of the next big celebrity sex tape's a bit much even for me."

"Nah. Sent it by Establishment courier." Jude grins, leaning back on the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. "He's chained it to his body and she's got to provide three forms of identification, her fingerprints, a retinal scan, DNA swab and a twenty-digit encrypted password just to open the package."

"I don't know..." Ewan says, tucking the phone up against his shoulder while he opens a bottle of beer. "What if she's got an evil clone running around? An evil clone who'd like nothing more than to humiliate us on the internet."

"Well, it's amazing what they can do with Photoshop these days," Jude sighs. ( ''How outrageous, pasting our heads onto porn star bodies'' )

Ewan bounces on the balls of his feet, humming to himself as he waits for Jude to unlock the door. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about this all day. It's not like dinner wasn't lovely, or that he hadn't enjoyed traipsing about Paris this afternoon or taking Jude out for a spin on his bike. But it was there in the back of his mind the whole time, and he's been so fucking horny, keeping his hands off Jude has been torture.

It's only as Jude's sliding the keycard through the lock that Ewan remembers he doesn't have to keep his hands off anymore, not here in the hotel. He presses up behind Jude, slides his arms around Jude's waist and pulls him back against his growing hard-on. "Hi," he says brightly, nipping at Jude's neck.

"Hi yourself," Jude says, surprised. After all, they've just spent the whole day together. The nudge against his hip explains everything, though, and he turns in Ewan's arms, smiling and pulling him into the room. "Mmm, eager are we?"

Ewan reaches back to push the door shut, his other hand sliding down to squeeze Jude's arse. ( ''What makes you say that?'' )

Rose petals on the bed. Jude approves. A little corny, perhaps, but very luxurious. It's the sort of finishing touch he's come to expect from a top class Establishment hotel, like the fruit basket and bottle of champagne that greeted him when he arrived, and the pamper package in the bathroom, handcuffs and a blindfold included. Wandering over to the tall window, Jude looks down onto the rain-streaked Parisian street. All he needs now is someone to share it all with.

It's all very well deciding to travel separately. After all, there's less chance of them being spotted and the gossip press putting two and two together and coming up with, well...a couple. No, it was definitely safer but the problem is, they didn't really allow for the weather. While Jude has been whisked all the way from London on Eurostar, and then from the station to the hotel in a chauffeured car, Ewan seems to have been held up. He's over an hour late and now it's beginning to get dark.

What if he's been in an accident? Jude presses his lips together and peers through the window again. He should be able to see anyone arriving at the hotel entrance from here but there's still no sign of Ewan. He's just wondering if he should try Ewan's mobile phone again when there's a knock at the door.

"Come in. Entrez," he calls. Ewan will have his own key so it's probably room service. The door doesn't open. There's another knock and a voice calls out, ( ''I 'ave a delivery for Monsieur Low.'' )

"It's itchy," Jude mutters, pouting a little. "You didn't tell me they would be itchy." He runs a hand up the front of his shirt, pulling it away when he realises he's getting very close to scratching at a nipple. "And I have to keep fucking cleaning them all the time. I don't know which was worse, the tattoo or the piercing. The tattoo, probably, but still, that was ages ago now and this is now and it's just...infuriating!"

"Poor baby." Ewan laughs. "Just be glad it's not your dick."

"Knowing you, that's next," Jude huffs. "Owww...how long does this go on for anyway? Does it last the whole six weeks? I don't remember it being this bad for you."

"I don't remember it lasting that long... It's been a while, though." Ewan glances over his shoulder at Jude. "Guess we'll find out in six weeks, eh?"

Jude groans. "You used to pretend you weren't a sadist. Remember that?" He strolls over to stand behind Ewan, looking down. "So what you doing there?"

"Just tightening up a few things on this bike. I don't even ride it that much..." Ewan frowns, tilting his head back to look up at Jude. ( ''The bike gnomes must've been at it.'' )

[follows directly from here]

Jude can see Ewan over by the bar, nursing a drink - just water by the look of it. He lifts his hand to point him out, but his companion is already heading over there, purposeful strides eating up the carpet. Jude hurries to catch up, hoping he's chosen the right person, but he can't tell from the expression on Ewan's face if Ewan is pleased or not.

"Hi there. Name's Joe." At least Jude is spared the embarrassment of having to make introductions. The man - Joe apparently - sticks out his hand towards Ewan. "Your boy here tells me you have need of a strong arm. To administer a beating."

"Ewan," Ewan says, shaking Joe's hand. "Maybe you can help me out." He grins. The guy's quite fuckable - tall and pretty and just the type Ewan would have picked out himself. He hadn't planned beyond a simple beating, but now he can't help thinking it'd be a shame to let Joe go without a shag. Or would that be going too far? "I usually have my boy beat me, but he's being punished. I'm not looking for anything fancy, just a good, hard flogging."

Joe grins back at him. "I think I can manage that." He raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up. ( ''So, do I pass the audition?'' )

[follows directly from here]

Christmas seems to come earlier every year, Jude muses, staring out of the car window at the first few decorations springing up along Oxford Street. Not to mention the fact he seems to be getting an early present himself. Shoving his hand deeper into the pocket of his coat, Jude surreptitiously adjusts his balls so that they don't catch on the zip of his jeans. If only he'd worn a button fly.

It's his own fault for giving his evil Master evil ideas. Jude darts a glance sideways and, sure enough, Ewan is smirking at him. Yep. Evil. It's even worse when they get to the Club and Jude has to slide out of the car, moving awkwardly to hide the bulge under his coat. The strap around the base of his cock and balls makes the whole package more prominent than usual - that and the fact he's still half hard and can't seem to lose it.

"I don't know why I never thought of this before," Ewan says, grinning broadly. "Hell, I feel better already."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Master," Jude groans but he can't help smiling as he steps into the Establishment proper. His smile fades when he realises Ewan is heading towards the coat check counter. ( ''Oh no...'' )

[Follows directly from here.]

Coming back down the stairs, Jude has a moment of alarm when he realises Ewan's gone. He hadn't even heard the front door closing. ( 'Surely he hasn't gone far.' )

[For those not following Ewan's career, the film in question is "Scenes of a Sexual Nature", a small independent film made up of seven different scenes set in a London park. In Ewan's piece he plays a gay man, spending the afternoon in the park with his loverand discussing parenthood.]

"I need a beer," Ewan says as Jude lets him in. "Or several. One for each so-called interview I read today that managed to make it sound like I've something to hide." He stomps into the living room and throws himself down on the sofa. "Fuck. I'm beginning to wish I'd never done this film."

"What? What's up?" Jude frowns, automatically heading to the fridge to pull out a couple of cold bottles. "Heineken all right? Or..." he raises his eyebrows in worried enquiry, "is something stronger required? Should I be breaking out the bourbon?"

Ewan hesitates, then says, "Nah, just beer's fine. It's just with the film premiering this weekend, there's been all these articles... Half of them practically ignore the film altogether in favour of my personal life..."

( ''Oh, so what else is new?'' Jude mutters, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. )

Ewan lets out a sigh of relief as the answerphone informs him he has no more messages. Another day with no new rumours springing up anywhere. Has it been a fortnight? A bit more, maybe? Practically a record, these days.

"You know," he says, flopping down on the sofa. He stretches out, putting his feet in Jude's lap and wiggling his toes, and Jude takes one foot and starts massaging it without ever taking his eyes off the telly. "You know, if we did get outed, you could move back in with me."

"What?" It takes a moment for Ewan's words to register. Jude's fingers still and he shoots Ewan a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Just that." Ewan shrugs. "You could live here again."

Jude can't believe what he's hearing. "You want us to get outed?!"

"What?" Ewan gapes at Jude. "When did I say that?"

"Well," Jude glares back at him, "it's pretty obvious you'd be happier with our living arrangements... Is it all getting a bit inconvenient for you?"

( ''Of course I'd be happier.'' )

Despite the threatening nature of the clouds overhead, Damon's come down on his bike. He's been in the mood for some fresh air-- or at least, as fresh as air gets in London-- and a little exercise. And a couple of drinks. He parks his bike and secures it, casting a wary eye up at the sky overhead, and walks into the bar.

It's a Thursday, so there are a few more people around than he's generally comfortable with. He's not sure exactly what it is about the Est, but it has the unique quality of generally either making him feel a little safer or making him feel incredibly lonely. Less of the latter now that he's with Will, but he's not with Will tonight. He's in a quiet mood, a people watching mood, and he plans to just have a couple of drinks and then go home. He steps up to the bar and orders a vodka tonic.

Ewan glances up at the nearby voice, grins as he recognises Damon.

"Hey," he says, waving him over. ( ''You here alone?'' )

And not the good* kind. Fucking wannabe paps. What is it with people? The paps, I get. I mean, I think they're the scum of the fucking earth, but it's their job, right? They're getting paid to make people's lives hell. What do ordinary people get for taking pictures with their fucking mobiles and sending them to gossip websites? It's not like people will remember the name of the person who sent in the photo. Do they do it just for the fun of it? Last summer we had photos of Jude at his mum's house, for Christ's sake. Is it too much to expect even a little privacy?

It's been almost a week since the bloody things were posted and we're trying to just ignore it and let it die down on its own, but it's fucking hard, especially when I keep getting emails telling me they're on yet another fucking site with the story embellished each time.

It's just really fucked up.






*Well, I wouldn't know. But I hear things, you know.

[Comments are welcome.]

"Hullo?"

Ewan's voice on the phone is unmistakable, despite the distance. Some of the tension drains from Jude's shoulders and he smiles. "Hey there. Yeah, I know it's a bit earlier than I said but...uh, well, has anyone spoken to you yet?"

Ewan sighs and flops down on the sofa. "I'm not sure if 'spoken' is the right word."

There's a pause as Jude takes that in. "That bad, eh?" he sighs. "You had a look at the site or anything yet?"

"Yeah... I wish I hadn't, but...well." Ewan shrugs. "You know. Curiosity killed the cat and all. The photos themselves weren't terribly scandalous or anything, but they might as well have been from the reaction."

"Oh, look, I agree." Jude is nodding. "I had to satisfy my own curiosity and have a quick look and, honestly, I was almost relieved. Simon made it sound like a disaster but those murky little snaps don't look like anything much. Well, apart from the fact my fashion sense is clearly slipping." He laughs, a little amused snort, trying to keep things lighthearted. "We look drunk, that's all. It could have been a lot worse."

"Yeah," Ewan says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Thank God Jude's being sensible about this. The last thing he needs is another overreaction. ( ''I mean, there's no law saying a couple of mates can't get drunk together. It's fucking Vegas, for Christ's sake.'' )

"Oooh look, one with dinosaurs. I haven't played one with dinosaurs yet." Jude nudges Ewan with his elbow and points at the machine. The brightly coloured symbols on the screen spin round and light up, inviting him to come on over. Digging into his cup of change, Jude slides into place in front of the machine and feeds a few coins into the slot. "This one is definitely going to be the lucky machine. I can feel it." He winks at Ewan. "Cross your fingers."

"Crossed," Ewan says, grinning as he holds up both hands to demonstrate. His own coins clink heavily in his pocket, no longer even enough to warrant a cup, but that doesn't stop him saying, "You'll need all the luck you can get. You're totally crap at these things."

"How can I be crap?" Jude protests. "You just put your money in and press the buttons... How hard is that?"

"Well, I haven't seen you winning any jackpots," Ewan rests his hands on Jude's shoulders, "so it must not be too easy."

"This one for sure..." Jude selects the maximum number of lines and then hits the spin button, watching as the screen shows the reels falling into place. One line lights up - a win - and Jude shoots Ewan a triumphant grin. "It's all in the timing, see? Now to double it... Red or black?"

"Red," Ewan says without looking at the screen. His thumbs move in slow circles below Jude's shirt collar, not quite a massage.

( ''Red it is.'' )

[Ewan, Jude, Damon Albarn, Neil Patrick Harris, Charlie Hunnam, Gordy Woolvett, and Brendan Fraser. Has been edited to focus on Jude and Ewan. Full chat can be found here.]

( How to drink while handcuffed. )

[This next bit is just Jude and Ewan. It takes place several hours later and was not included in the main chat log.]

( And now the tables are turned... )

[Ewan, Jude, Alan Cumming, Damon Albarn, Scott Speedman, and William Moseley. Has been edited to focus on Jude and Ewan. Full chat can be found here and here.]

( A bit of flirting, a bit of chatting, and finally some sex )

There's a jolt. Then another, and the engines kick in with a roar. Jude braces against the familiar deceleration, only releasing his breath as the noise subsides. The plane begins its smooth taxi along the runway, heading towards the island airport terminal. No matter how many times he flies and how blasé he gets about it, there's still a subtle sense of relief at being back on the ground. This time, even more so.  He's at the island resort at last and Ewan will be waiting.

It seems like an age before the stairs are ready. Jude has his luggage in his hand and is on his feet  before the doors are even open, trying not to be too pushy as he makes his way out of the plane and down onto the tarmac. He's not the only eager one. Other passengers are smiling now, blinking in the bright sunshine of the tropical day, waving to friends waiting in the arrivals area. Jude scans the small crowd. And there he is, all the more visible for his beaming grin.

"Ewan!" It comes out as an undignified squeal. Jude is grinning uncontrollably himself, quickening his pace as Ewan heads towards him, a definite bounce in his stride. "Ewan!"

"Beginning to wonder if you'd ever show up," Ewan says, though the flight wasn't even twenty minutes late. Smiling so hard it hurts, he grabs Jude in a hug, barely noticing Jude's bag drop to the floor. It's amazing that he can do this, that he doesn't have to worry about anyone seeing them. The thought makes him tighten his arms, press closer, and he's sure he had something else to say, but he's too busy kissing Jude to remember.

"Mmph..." Anything Jude was going to say is lost as he flings an arm around Ewan's neck, another round his waist and holds on tight, crushing Ewan to him. Ewan tastes like coffee and then like himself and Jude closes his eyes, lost in pure contentment. "Missed you," he whispers, and then plunges back into the kiss, as if it could make up for the weeks apart.

Ewan's hands slide down to Jude's hips, then to his arse as he grinds against him. A bit much for a public display, but fuck it, this is the Establishment. He could fuck Jude right here on the tarmac and no one would bat an eye. His cock certainly likes the idea. Or maybe it just likes being pressed against Jude again after so long. He grins, teeth scraping over Jude's lower lip. "Missed you, too."

"How about you show me," Jude murmurs, running his hand down to rest on the curve of Ewan's backside. He squeezes, leaning back far enough to give Ewan a meaningful look. ( ''Right now.'' )

It must be about noon. Jude holds his hand up to shade his eyes and squints upwards. The sun looks really high but it's hard to tell with the sky overcast. There's one easy way to find out. Dropping his book down by the side of the recliner, Jude props himself up on one elbow and reaches for his mobile. Hmm, already nearly ten past. He's surprised Ewan hasn't rung already. Flipping the phone open, Jude hits the first number on his speed-dial and lies back down, smiling as the phone picks up on only the third ring. "Hey, lover, expecting a phone call?"

Grinning, Ewan flops down on the sofa, pushes yesterday's newspaper onto the floor, and stretches out. "Yes, so be quick about it."

"Oh, like that is it? How inconsiderate of me, interrupting your busy social life," Jude chuckles. He adopts a lazy drawl. "I forget that some people actually have places to go, people to see instead of just...spending their days lying around the pool and sunning themselves. A drink in one hand, a book in the other. Just lazing around..." He grins. "So how was your day, darling?"

"Bastard. Aren't you supposed to be working?" Ewan scratches his belly and squirms around a bit, getting comfortable. "My day was grey, thank you very much. Rainy and warm, my least favourite combination. I suppose I shouldn't really complain, though, as I didn't actually set foot out of the house."

"Ah yes, the great British summer." Jude laughs. "How I miss it. Only, you know... not that much." Speaking of drinks, he could do with something. And now that it's past noon, it might as well be a beer. Sitting up, Jude swings his legs off the sun lounger and stands, padding into the house with the phone still held to his ear. "I haven't gone out either, yet. Well, apart from into the garden. It's my day off again and I'm about to get myself a beer and uh...well, I dunno.  Chat to you, I expect."

"Just chat? How disappointing." A beer sounds good, Ewan thinks. Not quite good enough to get him up off the sofa now he's laid down, though.

"Well..." Jude grins, lowering his voice, ( ''I didn't specify what I was going to chat about...'' )

Jude at his side, Ewan makes his way into the club, looking around for Rachel. They're not terribly late, but traffic was worse than usual and they're not exactly on time, either. Sure enough, she's at the bar already, and he nudges Jude with his elbow and waves at Rachel, who beams happily at them and waves back as they make their way towards her.

"You haven't been waiting long, have you?" Ewan says.

Rachel hugs and kisses both of them enthusiastically.  "No, I'm just keen, got here a bit early."

Laughing, Ewan leans against the bar. "Bored with Billy out of town?"

"A bit!  He's very entertaining."  Rachel grins and raises an eyebrow at Ewan's new facial adornment.  "Erm, as is...the moustache, Ewan.  I'll just laugh at it now, get it out of my system, okay?"

"Hey!" Jude springs to Ewan's defence. "It's a great moustache!"

"Can't argue with that!" Rachel grins.  "It's as macho as you promised."

Ewan kisses Jude on the cheek, making a show of rubbing his moustache in, and says, ( ''In thanks for defending my honour, I'll allow you to get me a beer.'' )

E-mails with Rachel and Jude re: setting up a scene.

It's a quiet evening. The crackling of the fire almost drowns out the faint warble of music in the background and when Ewan turns the page of his book, the sound of paper scraping against paper seems loud to Jude. For once he's not reading himself, happy to just sit there and massage Ewan's feet, enjoying the company and the occasional grunt of contentment from Ewan. Eventually though Jude drops Ewan's foot into his lap and taps his ankle to get his attention. "Hey, your birthday at the end of the month."

"Is it really?" Looking up, Ewan grins and wiggles his toes. "You're not finished, are you? I'm pretty sure there's a law somewhere that says in the weeks leading up to my birthday, I get more foot rubs than usual."

"Yep. Very soon. What do you want?"

Ewan marks his page, sets his book aside and makes a show of pondering the question. After a few moments, he says, "Sex?"

"Sex?" Jude raises his eyebrows. "Now, that's novel."

( ''I know, I know. I'm usually so chaste and innocent'' )

There's no sign of Jude when Ewan arrives at the club. He checks his watch; far from being early, he's actually a few minutes late. Maybe he should give Jude a ring and see if he's stuck in traffic. Frowning, he makes his way to the bar and orders a Guinness.

The note the barman slips him with his drink puts all thoughts of ringing Jude out of his head. Do as you're told and we might spare your life, it reads. No signature, but it's Jude's writing all right.

Ewan darts another glance around the room. Still no Jude, but there are two burly bouncer-types headed his way, and he has a feeling he'll be seeing Jude soon enough. It's hard not to grin; his heart is racing and he wants to lean over and tell the barman he has the best fucking boyfriend ever. Instead he gulps down his beer, looks nervously over his shoulder at the approaching men, and half slides off his stool as if about to make a break for it.

That gets their attention, has them picking up the pace. A hand clamps down on his shoulder and the bigger guy growls in his ear, "Come with us and don't give us any trouble."

"Wha-"

"Keep it down," the other one hisses, his grip just as tight.

They practically pull him off his stool, hustle him over to the lift. "You can't do this," Ewan says, sounding a little panicked.

The big guy just smirks. "I wouldn't try anything if I was you." His fingers are going to leave bruises for sure. "The boss won't mind if we have a little fun with you before he shows up."

"Have a little- What's going on here?" He's shoved forward into the lift. "I haven't done anything!"

The shorter one pushes him face first up against the wall, twists his arm behind his back hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "There, there are cameras in here!"

( ''You shoulda checked to see who owned this place before you came in.'' )