TITLE: "Beginnings2: The Morning After"

RATING: NC-17. Warning: Graphic M/M SEX.

FANDOM: The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne.

PAIRING: Phileas Fogg/Jean Passepartout.

ARCHIVE: Yes, as long as I get credit!

FEEDBACK: Will write for feedback. Flames will be EXTINGUISHED.

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own either of these beautiful guys <sigh>. But there's always the Santa Claus wish list.......

NOTES: Finally, Part 2! I realized that in my other writing (Dark Desires) that Phileas would have to refer back to events that happen in THIS series --- events that are plotted out in my head, but that I haven't committed to paper yet! So, there will be several more parts of this forthcoming, as soon as I get the free time in front of the library computer to grind them out.

Beginnings 2: The Morning After
by Andi

Phileas awakened slowly, not quite realizing where he was for a few moments. Also realizing that he was not alone in his bed.

As memories of the night before came flooding back into his sleep-muddled brain, Phileas smiled. //Ah, but last night was wonderful. How could I ever have thought it would be otherwise? Passepartout in my arms, in my bed .... would that I could wake like this *every* morning.//

Phileas gently caressed the bare shoulder of the sleeping man beside him. Passepartout sighed softly and burrowed closer against Phileas. Fogg brushed his lover's curly hair back from his face and planted a soft kiss on his temple. //My sweet love. I never dared to dream that this would happen. And now that it has, I will fear for your safety and your happiness even more than I already do.//

As though he was aware of Fogg's scrutiny, Passepartout opened sleepy dark eyes and looked up at his lover, a smile that could have turned Mount Everest to mush lighting up his face. Fogg couldn't resist lowering his lips to his valet's soft mouth for a good-morning kiss. Cupping Passepartout's chin in his hand, Phileas slipped his tongue into his manservant's mouth.

The kiss lasted for what seemed to Phileas like an eternity. He pressed on hand against the back of Passepartout's head, his tongue probing the warm cavern of his valet's mouth. His other hand moved down to caress Passepartout's ass, eliciting a soft groan from the man in his arms. Phileas was the first to break away from the kiss, his body aching for a more intimate embrace.

Phileas moved his body on top of Passepartout, catching the valet's wrists in his hands and pulling
his arms up over his head. He lowered his mouth to softly nibble at Passepartout's tender pink nipples, gently grazing the sensitive buds with his teeth. Passepartout moaned and squirmed under him, grinding his hips against Fogg's body. The valet's movements only intensified Fogg's arousal.

Phileas raised his head to look into his valet's deep, dark eyes. The pleading look he read there made him smile. He arched an eyebrow.

"I take it you .... ah .... want something?" His voice was mischievous, teasing. "You only have to ask for it, you know."

"Please, master .... please, make love to me." Passepartout gasped as Phileas swirled his tongue around one small, erect nipple, sending flashes of desire through his entire body. "Please .... I want .... I need you."

"Then you shall have me, mon amour," Phileas breathed. "You shall have all you want of me."

Fogg looked to the table beside the bed to make sure he'd brought the bottle of oil with them to his bedroom when they had retired for the evening. He'd antitipated they might need it again .... ah, yes, sure enough, it was there. Smiling, he moved down on the bed until he was lying between Passepartout's spread thighs, his head resting on his manservant's belly. He pressed tender kisses on the soft, sensitive skin around Passepartout's navel, and moved his hands gently up and down the velvety flesh of his inner thighs.

Phileas buried his face in the inviting warmth of Passepartout's groin, drawing a soft moan from the valet.

Fogg teasingly ran his tongue down the shaft of Passepartout's cock, swirling his tongue around the pulsing head. He used his tongue to push the foreskin back and forth, making Passepartout groan with pleasure. Phileas opened his mouth wider and took the entire length of his manservant's cock into his mouth, swallowing as he felt it hit the back of his throat. Passepartout writhed under him, arching his back and thrusting his hips forward.

Phileas kept swallowing, knowing that each movement of his throat muscles brought Passepartout
closer to the edge. He began to move his mouth up and down the shaft, slowly, caressingly, wanting to prolong his lover's pleasure. Passepartout's hands were on his head, his fingers entwined in the soft, silky strands of Fogg's salt-and-pepper hair. Little moans were coming from his throat; Phileas knew it wouldn't be long before the valet reached his climax.

Phileas let Passepartout's cock slip nearly out of his mouth until he was sucking at the sensitive tip, then pushed his head down again to take the full length of his valet's manhood into his mouth. He moved his head up and down a few times, until he was suckling at the tip again. Fogg circled his tongue lazily over the tender ridge on the underside of his lover's cock, then closed his lips over the throbbing head and sucked hard. Passepartout gave a short, sharp cry, and salty/sweet liquid flooded into Fogg's mouth. Phileas swallowed, loving the taste that was uniquely Passepartout's.

They lay there for a long while afterwards, Fogg's head on Passepartout's stomach, the valet's hands absently stroking his master's silken hair. Phileas moved his hand down between Passepartout's spread legs and cupped his balls, caressing the exquisitely sensitive skin with gentle fingertips. Passepartout moaned and moved his hips against Fogg's searching hand.

//Ah, he is so beautiful. This is bliss.// Phileas let his hand trail over the smooth body of the man he loved, caressing his thighs, his stomach, moving his long, slender fingers over Passepartout's chest, massaging his tender nipples, admiring the muscular arms and shoulders.

//He is everything I have ever desired .... in a friend as well as a lover. Beautiful, yes, but also loyal, courageous, compassionate, patient and generous .... and so loving with those he cares for. God achieved perfection when he created Jean Passepartout. It is so hard to believe that he can care for me. And that I love him so desperately.//

Passepartout was hardening again, Fogg noticed appreciatively. A slow smile spread across his face. //This is such a lovely way to start the day. If only all my mornings could be so heavenly.//

Aloud he said, "Passepartout, would you like to .... ah .... make love again?"

"Like last night?" Passepartout asked. "You are meaning, when we .... when you .... inside ...."
Blushing furiously, he let the words trail off.

"Yes, Passepartout, that is exactly what I mean," Fogg laughed. A sudden thought sobered him.
"You aren't .... embarrassed .... repulsed .... by what we did, are you?"

"No, master," Passepartout said softly. "It .... I .... I loved what we were doing. But .... it is being .... soon, to be doing it again .... I did not think ...."

"What did you think, Passepartout? That I would make love to you and never touch you again? I think you know me better than that," Fogg chided his valet. "Last night was the most wonderful night of my life, my beloved Passepartout. You mean more to me than anyone I have ever been with. You must know that."

"I .... I did not think .... that I meant so much to you," Passepartout stammered. "I thought .... it was just .... one night."

"No, Passepartout," Phileas whispered softly. "It is much, much more than that. You are my life, Passepartout. I could not .... breathe .... without you. I could not contemplate a life without you. Especially not now .... not when I have .... been this .... intimate with you."

Passepartout was overwhelmed by this declaration of Fogg's feelings for him. He had known that his master cared for him, as a friend, a servant, and, after last night, perhaps even as a lover .... but he had never dared to consider that Phileas could feel this way about him. Exactly the way he felt about his master .... for longer than he cared to remember.

"Nor I a life without you, Master," the valet whispered, caressing Fogg's cheek. "Passepartout would die without you."

"Don't say that!" Fogg's voice was sharp. "I will not let your feelings for me put your life at risk, Passepartout. If it comes to that ...."

"It will not, Master," Passepartout said. His voice was low, nearly inaudible. "No one will know how I feel."

//Passepartout is right. We cannot let anyone know that we are lovers. Not only would it put his life in danger, it would not be .... acceptable in society,// Phileas thought sadly. //I will have to hide my feelings from everyone. Even those closest to me.//

Phileas looked down at the man in his arms. //My beloved. My life. And I cannot tell anyone how much I love you. Well, at least I can *show* you how I feel ....//

Phileas moved off of Passepartout onto his side, slipping his arms around his valet's slender waist. He snuggled up behind his lover, turning Passepartout onto his stomach, smiling as he heard the valet's breathing quicken in anticipation.

//Was I this responsive with my first lover?// he thought. A dark, ominous look passed over his face. //No. My first was not a good experience. I did not want what was done to me. It was forced upon me. It was one of the most terrible moments of my life. At least I can make sure Passepartout never knows that kind of pain, or fear.//

Phileas moved his hand down, his long, slim fingers stroking the velvety skin of Passepartout's inner thighs. The valet spread his legs, allowing his master more intimate access. Fogg's fingers brushed between soft cheeks as he gently caressed the tender opening. Passepartout gave a soft cry and writhed under his master's touch.

Phileas moved down on the bed until his cheek was resting on the soft curves of Passepartout's buttocks. //I've never tried this before. Well, no time like the present ....// Spreading the valet's buttocks with his fingers, Phileas began to gently lick and kiss around his anus, circling his warm, wet tongue over the exquisitly sensitive area.

Passepartout moaned and squirmed under Fogg's mouth, sensations he had never experienced before overwhelming his body. "Ohhhhhh .... ohhhhhhhhhh ...." His cries became louder as his master's soft tongue grew bolder.

Phileas continued to lick around the sensitive opening until he felt Passepartout's muscles begin to relax somewhat. The valet was trembling; Fogg couldn't tell whether the tremors were caused by desire or fear.

//Well, if it hurts him, I will not continue it. This is rather experimental, for both of us.// Slowly, Phileas pushed his long, strong tongue inside his lover.

Phileas was completely unprepared for his lover's violent reaction.

"MON DIEU!" Passepartout screamed as he felt Fogg's tongue slide into him. //I .... he .... oh .... oh my .... what .... OHHHHH ....//

Phileas kept pushing his tongue in and out of his valet, Passepartout's cries of pleasure barely registering on the periphery of his thoughts. //So hot .... so tight .... oh my God ....// His entire world had been reduced to the hot, throbbing warmth against his mouth.

//I cannot keep this up. At this rate, we will both come too quickly.// Phileas sat back on his heels, gasping for breath. Passepartout cried out in dismay as the soft, warm tongue that had been sending such delicious sensations though his entire body pulled away, leaving him hard and unsatisfied.

Phileas moved his hand between Passepartout's slender thighs, pushing one finger, then two, into the hot, tight opening. He gently scissored his fingers, widening Passepartout slightly, caressing his lover's prostate gently with his fingertips.

Passepartout groaned. His master's fingers caressed, teased, promised. //Feels so good .... but it is not what I want. He is knowing that.//

Phileas reached for the bottle of oil with his other hand. It took him a few minutes, but somehow > he managed to uncork the bottle one-handed. He had to stop stroking Passepartout to lubricate himself, and the valet moaned in frustration as the gentle fingers ceased their probing.

"Sorry, love," Phileas whispered. "This will only take a moment. Then you'll have what you
want." //What we *both* want.//

Phileas stroked his oiled fingers over soft, yielding flesh, making sure Passepartout was well- lubricated before he entered him. //I know only too well how painful it can be not to be prepared for this. I will not inflict that kind of pain on Passepartout.//

Phileas eased the head of his cock into his lover, his engorged manhood easily slipping between Passepartout's firm buttocks. Phileas pushed his cock slowly into Passepartout, moving inch by inch, still somewhat afraid that he would hurt the man he loved by moving too quickly.

//He still has to get used to this,// Fogg reminded himself. //Although I must admit that he has taken to it rather quickly. I would never have expected that he would enjoy this so much --- or that *I* would, either. I have never felt such pleasure.//

Soon enough, Phileas was all the way inside. He lay on top of Passepartout, luxuriating in the sensation of being sheathed inside the man he loved. He ground his hips against Passepartout, making the valet gasp with pleasure as the head of his master's cock probed against his prostate. Phileas groaned as Passepartout moaned and squirmed under his body, the valet's movements exciting him beyond measure.

Phileas pulled his cock nearly all the way out, leaving only the throbbing head inside the clinging channel, then drove himself back into Passepartout. After a few moments, they found a rhythm, their bodies thrusting against each other, each movement more and more frenzied. Phileas grasped Passepartout's hands, entwining his fingers with his lover's, holding the valet's arms above his head as he thrust harder and deeper.

Passepartout groaned at each thrust of Fogg's rock-hard cock into his body. He struggled weakly when Phileas pinned his arms, but as the incredibly pleasurable sensations became nearly unbearable, he forgot that his master was holding him down and just concentrated on the unbelievable sensation of Fogg's cock thrusting into him, filling him, fucking him.

Phileas cried out as he came, his hips jerking against Passepartout, the spasms shaking his entire body. He continued to spasm for several minutes, his cock still hard inside his lover. Belatedly, he realized that his fingers were still entwined with Passepartout's. He released his lover's hands, then wrapped his arms around Passepartout, his body spent.

Passepartout moaned and ground his hips against the mattress, the friction of the smooth linen sheets against his cock bringing him to his own release. He cried out as he came, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

Phileas slowly withdrew his withering organ from his manservant's body, pressing his fingers against the quivering hole as his cock slipped out. He couldn't resist slipping his fingers back into his valet, loving the hot tightness that clutched at his fingers as if trying to pull them deeper inside.

Passepartout moaned and squirmed. "No .... do not .... please, Master. Too sore .... that is hurting...."

Phileas snatched his fingers away as though they had been burned. He turned Passepartout over, anxiously searching his valet's face. //I've hurt him. The *one* thing I never wanted to do. I've hurt him.//

"Passepartout, are you all right? Did I hurt you?" There were tears in Phileas' eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks at any moment. "Please.... tell me .... did I hurt you?"

"No, master," Passepartout whispered, brushing his fingers against Fogg's lips. "No. You were not hurting me .... it is just .... too sore .... so soon after .... but not hurt. What we just did .... it felt good."

"Are you sure?" Phileas looked deep into his lover's eyes. All he could read there was joy.... contentment .... and love.

"Yes, Master." Passepartout raised his head and gently brushed his lips against his lover's. "I love you."

"I love you, my Passepartout. I love you so much," Phileas murmured as he wrapped his arms around his valet, pulling Passepartout close against him. "I love you more than life."

//And I will love you until the end of my life --- or yours.// The thought chilled him, and he pulled Passepartout closer. //If this ends, my life ends. For I cannot face each day without you by my side, my sweet love.//

Phileas cupped his lover's bearded chin in his fingers and raised Passepartout's face to his, staring deeply into those beautiful deep dark eyes that has mesmerized him from the first moment he had seen the Frenchman. After a long, searching gaze, he lowered his lips to Passepartout's, kissing him deeply, wanting to feel the warm softness of his love's lips against his.

//Do not leave me, my love. My heart has already been broken and glued back together too many times. There is nothing left of my heart now but the glue that holds it together. And there comes a time when glue cannot piece together more shattered remnants of what is already gone.//

"What there is of my heart is yours, my Passepartout," he whispered. "It breaks easily .... please keep it safe."

Passepartout's only answer was to wrap his arms tightly around Fogg's waist and nod his head slowly. After a few moments, he raised his face to look at his master. His eyes were brilliant with unshed tears.

"And my heart .... has always been yours, Master," he whispered. "Keep yourself safe .... and know that my heart is always with you."

Fogg nodded and pressed his face against Passepartout's soft, dark curls. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he held his love close against him, their bodies locked together so closely they might have been trying to meld into each other.

//I can only pray that my heart does not break again. For I could not bear to lose the only thing that is still keeping me anchored to life.//

Phileas sighed and placed a soft kiss on the top of Passepartout's head. They had a lot to do today; it was time to get out of bed and face the world.

//For now, this is enough. It has to be. It is all I have .... and all I want.//

END