Jim comes to visit Richard while he's backstage just minutes before he needs to get on stage/set
There was all of about ten minutes before Richard had to be on set and slump before the camera.
He was settled in his chair, flicking idly though pages of the book he would be reading. He barely registered the coloured blobs of text splattered across each dainty, little illustration. He was exhausted. They’d kept him up all night.
Eventually, exhaling a long, airy sigh, he closed the children’s book over with a dull thud and allowed his head to lull forward with a tired sway. His hands carded through his already ruffled hair, tugging a bit too harshly on the dark threads as he tried to wake himself up at least a little.
“Oh, dear. You look so tired! We were hard on you last night, weren’t we?” The slight click of shoes scraping against the calloused grains of the floor carried off each word with a bounce, “Well, aren’t you lucky? I’m here to make up for it - wake you up.”
Richard had scrambled off his chair at the first rattle of his brother’s voice, wide eyes darting around the room as he searched for its source. His gaze nestled over his twin’s figure, illuminated by the pale lighting of the dressing room.
“Oh,” he breathed, standing awkwardly before his chair.
Jim strolled over to him in sweeping steps, brushing a hand over Richard’s chest, beckoning him to plant himself back down on his seat. Richard obliged, his doe-like stare locking onto his brother’s identical features - pulled into a devious smirk.
Only but a mere minute had passed before Jim was lowering himself down onto Richard, the fine curve of his smile still in place as he straddled him.
“Now, I didn’t really bring you any coffee,” Jim purred, each syllable rolling off his tongue in his velvet lilt. Richard swallowed, his head bobbing up and down in a nod as he tried his very best not to shift under his brother’s weight.
Jim peered down at his twin for no more than a few seconds longer, eager to crush his mouth against Richard’s in a hungry kiss.
Richard’s breath hitched in his throat, a gasp parting his lips against his brother’s. The corners of Jim’s lips curled as his tongue glided over the plush flesh of the actor’s lower lip, teeth raking over the delicate, pink skin - hoping to coax those oh-so-delicious moans his brother was all too well known for.
The criminal reigned triumphant, a groan rumbling from the depths of Richard’s throat, heavy eyelids fluttering. They drooped over completely when their tongues slid against each other in a teasing graze.
Richard, jolted awake by his brother’s arrival, pleaded for more, arms looping around the other’s pale neck and forcing him to dip down closer.
At that, Jim drew back with the wisp of a chuckle, his fingertips tracing over Richard’s lips to swipe away the trickles of saliva ghosting over the swollen crimson.
“Richie! Think of the children - they need their bedtime story,” he taunted, slipping away from his brother’s lap and straightening his suit with a swat of his hands.
Richard had to fight with every fibre of his being not to break out a pout.
“Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get one of your own,” Jim called back as he disappeared through the crack of a door frame.