AN: Hey, it's been a while since I updated my stories (which I will soon!). But in the mean time, here's one of the many one shots (albeit short) that I've been working on for a while. Finally finished it today!

Enjoy :) (Warning: contains malemale relationships and sex so if you don't like, don't read :))

Getting over You

What do you do when you're penniless, broken-hearted and bored of staring at the expensive sunglasses you bought him left lying on the table?

Go out, get smashed and then fucked, of course. It took me long enough to come that decision too: three hours and fifty-five minutes, to be exact. The fried chicken and rice I'd made for him had gone cold by then, still waiting listlessly on the kitchen hob in a cream bowl, slightly chipped. It was probably congealed, the fat clinging to the chicken like a second skin.

So I decided to sit in my usual bar on that Wednesday night, double whisky (no ice) in a tumbler clasped by my right hand. I sighed, and lifted the drink to my lips as I slumped even more over the bar, hunched back as the cool air tingled against my skin; I had forgotten to bring a coat, so all I had on was a baggy dress shirt and skinny black jeans.

I stared at the barman, who gave me an odd look back.

"Want a shag?" I asked, in an almost nonchalant tone. He blanched, but ignored me and hurried off round the corner with a box of Coroners. With a shrug and a mutter of "your loss" under my breath, I turned back to my drink and chucked most of the liquid down my oesophagus. I let out a long breath, relishing in the after-burn the alcohol had created in my throat.

Shortly after I asked for the same drink again, I heard a shuffling to my left and saw a figure in the corner of my eye just as my drink was set down in front of me and I handed over the change. A hand grabbed at my shoulder as the person exclaimed in that familiar voice. "Sammy!"

I twisted round and had to do all that I could not to groan and curse my life to the pits of hell. He smiled at me congenially with that innocent smile, as always, full of adoration like a dog wagging its tail. He waggled his eyebrows at my glass as his abysmally large smile continued to take over the majority of his face. "Drinking hard tonight, I see." His shaggy blonde hair reached down to his neck, partially hiding a pair of chestnut eyes as he dragged a hand through those sandy strands.

I gave him a flat look. "It's so that when I find a guy to shag, I can just feel the pleasure of fucking, rather than the crappy burn at the beginning. It will make it a hell of a lot easier." He stared at me in shock, eyes wide as he sat, frozen. "Perhaps I won't have to even use lube."

He opened his mouth a fraction, and closed it again as I downed my drink again. His eyebrows knit together, "Wha-but… what about-"

"Your brother?" I answered with a small, dry, chuckle. "Gone."

"You two broke up?" He asked in disbelief, just before distractedly asking for a JD and coke.

"Well," I said lazily, raising my eyebrows, "If me coming back home early to find him in my bed with another guy and then, when he's gone, realising he's been taking money out of my account for the past year (which equates to about twenty grand), making me effectively broke, means that we broke up then yes. We aren't together anymore." I replied in one long breath as I attempted to get the attention of the barmaid.

"But Eric…." His face screwed up into an almost unrecognisable expression. "I mean, he loves-" He shook his head. "Loved you. It doesn't make sense.." He buried his head in his hands as the waitress took the money off the table and replaced it with his drink. He looked back up at me. "Why would he take the money? I mean, it doesn't make sense!" He took a long gulp of his drink before glancing back at me with distraught eyes. "God, I can't believe he did this to you; I'm so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to get your money back-"

"Don't be stupid, James," I interrupted him with an irritated look, "It's not your fault that your brother's a prick. I'll earn my money back somehow." I glanced to the side. "Though it doesn't exactly help that I was fired from my job this afternoon."

"What?!" He exclaims again, nearly knocking over his drink.

I shrugged, staring down at my whisky. "My boss accused me of stealing money from the company, and I called him a fucking retard. I didn't exactly realise at the time that it was my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend." I took another gulp, finishing the drink off as I still felt his gaze on me. I turned to his troubled face, knuckles lightly clasping his hair. My own expression softened as I touched his arm, causing him to jolt with surprise, and something else.

"Don't look so upset, I'll find a way somehow. It isn't your problem, anyway: I know how you like to help people, but don't generalise me into that category." I stared hard at my drink. "I'm fine." He still looked frustrated and torn, as though he were warring inside himself as to say what he wanted to or not. "Anyway," I said, downing my drink once again before grinning. "No more time for talking: more alcohol is on the menu."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sam." I heard his voice in the background, and a swirl of his worried face. That's when the drink began to set in; a whirl of bright colours , the feeling of a lopsided grin on my face and his gorgeous face. That face that so much resembled his brother's, only completely different at the same time.

The first time I ever met Eric's older, clumsy, brother was when I was waiting for Eric in a bar just off Camden high street. I wasn't expecting James to come, but Eric strode in, looking a bit stressed and followed by an excitable guy behind him, grin in tow. The guy was tall and so blonde that it almost shocked me speechless just because it was so bright. Torn jeans hung from his hips, just under a loose t-shirt splattered with what seemed like paint (the paintbrush partially hidden behind his ear reinforced my suspicion). As soon as he realised that they were heading towards me, he widened his smile even more.

"So this is the man that my brother has been hiding away secretly." The man had smiled, before extending a hand towards me. "My name's James; Eric's favourite brother, of course."

I took his hand as Eric gave him an exasperated look. "You're my only brother."

James shrugged at his brother, but turned back to me, warm chestnut eyes inspecting my face with his smile dominating a large part of his face. "At least my brother has good taste."

"Are you chatting up my boyfriend?" Eric had demanded, only half joking.

"Maybe." James winked at me, making me smile back at him. "So what's your name, gorgeous"

With a raise of my eyebrows, I told him that my name was Sam. After a bit of a talk with him while Eric went to get drinks, we realised that we worked quite near to each other so he then suggested that we meet up after work every so often. I agreed, mainly because it would have been rude to refuse but also because he seemed like quite a nice guy.

So that's how it started. Every other day we met up in the same bar and mostly talked about irrelevant things, which was quite refreshing to living with Eric, who was almost the complete opposite to his older brother. Don't get me wrong: I did love Eric, it's just that he was pretty hard to live with. Every few days he'd poke and poke at me until he could get an argument going just because he was in the mood to throw dishes and glasses across the room. James, on the other hand, was so calm and laid back that it was almost unbelievable that they were related.

Eric did get jealous at times because of mine and James' relationship, constantly accusing me of cheating on him. Every time I went out with his brother he'd get incredibly paranoid, maybe because we got on so well, or something. Oh, the irony.

That night, I remember staggering down the street with James holding me up with one arm around my waist as I mumbled incomprehensible crap into his ear. He had been drinking too, but not nearly as much as me as he'd been too worried about me to get too drunk.

It had been bitterly cold, the frost nipping at my fingers as I swayed from side to side, his side pressed against mine as his fingertips gripped at the material of my sleeve. He pulled away for a minute or so to shrug off his own coat, placing over my shoulders before continuing to walk with me again. Short white puffs floated into the air from our mouths as we wandered along alley ways and pavements, not noticing that we were gradually closing in on each other until we were at my flat.

He gave me an unsure look, slowly tearing himself away from me. That is, until I shoved him against the railings and kissed him.

We gripped at each other as though we were starved and ravenous, lips pressing against each other in harsh drunkenness as our hearts beat thunderously beneath our chests. James pushed himself closer to me so our bodies lined each other perfectly, lust overtaking us in an unbearable haze.

Somehow, we had unlocked the apartment door and closed it again, landing in a heap on the floor. I laughed on top of him, shoving the door closed with my foot as I lay on his chest, rumbling with slightly drunken laughter. He smiled up at me roguishly, stubble littering his strong jaw as his golden hair splayed out on the wooden flooring.

"I've always wanted this," he mumbled, reaching up to play with a strand of my hair. "I just never thought it would ever come true."

Before I could even be able to comprehend what he was saying he was kissing me vigorously, hands knitted in my hair as he rolled us both over so I was the one beneath him. Pressing his body closer to mine, his cold hands slid under my t-shirt, finger tips trailing my exposed chest. My breath hitched and I could feel him grinning into the kiss before nipping my bottom lip.

Slowly he slid further down my body, lifting my t-shirt over my head and down my arms as he did so. I glanced to the side, noticing the coat that had been on my shoulders in a heap on the floor to my side but James' lips brought my attention back to him. Slowly, he began to dot kisses all down my body, making me wriggle with pleasure as I squeezed my eyes closed tightly.


We managed to untangle ourselves out of our clothes so we writhed together nakedly on the cold, hard, floor. Hot skin against hot skin, mouths latched onto each other as nail dug into arms, eyes rolled back in delirious pleasure. Everything was in a blur, an unimaginable blur.

"I'm going to put it in," he breathed hotly against my ear, my legs up on his shoulders as his body curled over mine, his length up against my entrance.

"Ok," I rasped back before groaning. He pressed a small kiss against my cheek, leaning away as he pushed himself in with a gasp. I bit my lip hard, attempting to ignore the pain and uncomfortable feeling. Once he was all in, he grabbed my face with both of his hands and pressed his forehead against mine, heavy breath skating over my face.

"You ok?"


Then he thrust in hard, long strokes and we were both lost in the fast rhythm. It wasn't romantic; it was urgent. It was something we both desperately needed, and something we clung onto. Sweat dripped between our bodies as we moved, his hands gripping onto my arms as if I were about to disappear.

He stared at me with darkly hooded eyes; something I had obviously never seen on him before. He had always been the nice guy that I had drinks with after work. This was him, but it wasn't. His bright blonde hair stuck to his forehead as he groaned, but always kept his gaze focused on me.

His thrusts became even more frantic, pushing harder and harder until he smashed his lips against mine, caving in to the inevitable orgasm. Collapsing on top of me as his chest thumped against mine as I was overcome with warmth and tiredness.

My lids began to lower as he wrapped his arms possessively around me. Just before I drifted completely into unconsciousness, he murmured three words that I doubt I'll ever be able to forget.

"Please remember me."