Here are 4 ficlets with my favourite pairing: Trist/James. They're all incredibly OOC, cause it's just a bit of fun. :)
TITLE: Uncle Herriot.
SUMMARY: Tristan's PoV when he hears yet another phone call involving Uncle Herriot. :P
WARNINGS: Eh... mild weirdness.
DISCLAIMER: Trust me. If I owned All Creatures, James and Tristan would be glued together. But everything belongs to James Herriot, soyeah.
“Uncle Herriot will do you an injury if you don't shut up.”
Tristan grinned an ample grin, happily standing behind James with his hands deep in the safety of his pockets. But there was something... something not quite right about his latest smirk.
His eyes sparked mischievously as James spoke, tongue just flecking his lower lip in a way which could be considered teasing. The hands in his pockets curled tighter, and he shifted from foot to foot for a moment before he moved around Herriot.
He was no masochist, but the idea of James' gentle, steady hands inflicting him pain, actually hurting him...
“/Wicked/ Uncle Herriot.” He retorted, smiling ever broader.
SUMMARY: How /exactly/ does James pay Trist back for finding out about Helen's classical music club membership?
WARNINGS: Mild implications. (:
DISCLAIMER: I. Don't. Own. It. Wanna rub it in any more? :P
“I am not ungrateful” James said, half-out of the door already. His eyes flickered up to meet Tristan's, and then coursed down his body, eventually stopping around his waist area.
Tristan wriggled his lower quarters unnecessarily in the chair, and watched James' Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed.
“Oh, I'm sure.” Farnon replied, showing off those white teeth as he beamed.
Ah, the sweet promise of things to come.
In more ways that one.
SUMMARY: Tristan's such a worrypot.
WARNINGS: Nah, it's innocent. Trust me.
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to James Herriot. Psh. Lucky thing. :D
“I was expecting Mr. Herriot back some time ago.”
Tristan spoke cordially enough to the gentleman on the phone, the one with the pregnant cow. As the words fell from his mouth, told the other where James was liable to be, it was easy to derive from his tone that his mind was in a completely different place.
James should have been back hours ago. He was forever getting held up with odd jobs here and there by nearby farmers, but never for this long. And that car he drove wasn't exactly reliable.
An accident. Head-on collision. Twisted wreckage on one of the beautiful country roads.
Tristan dragged on his cigarette, trying to steady his nerves.
RATING: ...NC-17. I think. Heh.
SUMMARY: Random, spineless, plotless Trist/James sex. (:
WARNINGS: Kinda graphic. And. Yeah.
DISCLAIMER: I pity da foo' who thinks All Creatures belongs to anybody but Herriot.
Tristan's lithe body ground against his once more, and another groan of appreciation was forced from his mouth. James could hear the breathless utterances from above him, feel the slow, deep thrusts inside him and taste the wet flavor of Tristan's mouth as the man lowered his head, indulging them both in a lasting, passionate kiss.
With his legs hooked tight over the other's shoulders, James had never experienced anything that even came close to what Tristan was doing to him. His head was pushed back into the pillows of his bed, body was slick with sweat. And Tristan, the boyish charm and the naivety was completely erased, replaced with a persona which was expert in teasing touches and ribbing kisses.
James was broken down to the will of this man who could excite him so with one touch of his lips. That first kiss, where he was pinned to the wall by the younger Farnon brother. That first declaration of feelings that ran so deep. That first touch that strayed below the waistband of his trousers.
And Tristan knew perfectly well what he was doing. This close, he would have tasted any alcohol on his breath. But there was nothing there; he was of perfectly sound mind. They both will
The first tendrils of galvanic tension took his abdomen, and a low plea found voice in husky tones, although muted by the other's mouth. It was something Tristan drunk up, the begging for what he could provide, before being most obliging to James' needs. His thrusts became harder, faster, rougher, and he tore away from the latest kiss, lips finding new purchase in the delicate arc of muscle between his bare neck and shoulder. Tristan's even white teeth nipped at the skin, and he felt himself near the edge while listening to the moans it elicited.
Soon enough, the tensity around Farnon's own lower stomach began to overpower him, and his control on both his grasp and voice decayed. His nails dug deep into James' arms, and both their voices were soon entwined as their bodies, desperately competing against each other in crescendo...
Crying out the name of the man atop of him, James heard Tristan's shouts be choked off, and soon felt a sudden surge of heat inside him, along with those teeth sinking themselves deep into his shoulder, simply to mute the straining voice.
It was too intense. He was so close, teetering on the edge, and it was the sharp pain stemming from his shoulder that sent him crashing over. His body bucked upwards, back arching and stomach crashing hard against Tristan's aftershock-wrought frame, and his cries reached a final vertex, before being cut off sharply in his throat as his world was fragmented.
His entire body fell limp onto the damp sheets, and his chest heaved for breath. His legs slipped away from Tristan's shoulders, and he lay back into the bed, the other's erratic heartbeat almost in sync with his own. He was rendered incapable of moving, speaking and seeing.
With eyes closed and words none, he listened to Tristan Farnon's heartbeat while still suspended in the utter ecstacy, every single other thought in his mind eradicated.