One shot - Reshoot UK version

It 'a story of pure fantasy.
The characters do not belong to me, no profit.
No real reference to their sexual orientation.

One shot - reshoot


POV: Robert Downey Junior

London, at the end of September 2011

"But what good Chinese."
Do you support the jamb, while I, the makeup in the mirror, you look pensive launch, but excited.
"But what a nice mustache ..." - I say, inspiring - "Close the door Jude."
You do it.
Flight in your arms and feel the anger in recent months, still trembles at the center of your chest.
"Excuse me ..." - my whisper drowned in your neck.
"It does not matter." - Looking about oxygen, then kiss me.
You are always passionate, even if your slender fingers, instead of stroking my hair, oppress them, as if to shake the torpor of that disappointment and move on.
"... Now Rob just go to my house."
I am looking for a little air too, but I continue to kiss the skin around these fragrant lips, which were the focus of my dreams, during the weeks of absence.

We are in a taxi now.
Watch out, hiding our hands folded under my coat.
"Rob ... you cold?" - Turn around without a whisper.
"No more ..." - and embarrassed smile, pulling up the nose.
I just want the warmth of your body on mine and could happen soon, if we do not give us much explanation.
Your reaction to the news of Susan's pregnancy, the bitterness of increasingly less frequent phone calls, then canceled, as if to reset the contacts between us could serve some purpose.
The corbeille of flowers, I sent you to your first piece of theater in town, returned to the sender and completely destroyed on a red basket - § § hypocritical bastard ... made me so sick.
Did I wrote in an e-mail that you have not opened.
My wife was more familiar with the PC's myself, as in many other things, which are a perfect nerd, so I was taught how to check if the mail was read or not: it was bitter experience your complete indifference to my constant rants , to beg your forgiveness.
Forgiveness, then what?
I asked him a thousand times, counting the minutes of the endless hours without sleep, wherever I was, only to end up always looking for a couple of private videos, our only, masturbating to the warm touch of your voice.
We were obscene in those two occasions, in Paris and then in Madrid, but we are fools and that's how I want to live Judsie, policy, and an existence without limit, loving you ... yes ... I ...
"I love you, Jude."
The moans swallowing syllables, distort, my throat does the same with your sex, I push tears into it with malice and detected before the mouth ... and then everything else.
I cry.
You are already asleep and I use my pillow to dry cheeks, you have soiled a few moments before.
In the end we gave ourselves no explanation, just sex, as if it would resolve the anguish of our separation, I see now as the only destiny for our history.
Your first reaction was that, in fact - "It '... over a son Robert, you and Susan: There is no place for me, even if I wanted, even if I asked you on your knees!"

I get up and look at the rooftops of London.
Autumn is looming and now everything looks gray.
I have a tremor, the curtains have moved and I realize that the door is left ajar top: I raise my arms to reach and close the bar, but jump to another perception, this time warm and pleasant.
You're wrapping, your head down on my right shoulder blade, tears slipping, Lamb salty streams - "Make love to me, Rob ... I beg you ..." - begins, as if you had surrendered to something or someone as if I could deny you the part of us, that made me feel alive, with no need to alter my feelings with drugs or alcohol, intoxicated with success, ephemeral murderess of all common sense.
Let's get back on the bed.
Welcome me between your legs, but I want to look at and caress you, disappearing on your beautiful face for signs of regret.
"I know I deserve Jude, but you're the only person who does not want to lose ... ... I am begging you not to let that happen ... but if that would make you unhappy, then I'm ready to get rid of me ..."
I speak, but in the meantime deposit on your forehead kisses, breathing your breath tangle of feelings, evident in the irises of starry silver, beaded with sweat from the cheeks, she wiped away the flesh on my tired, worn out look from my eyes, in seeing us suffer .
"I love you too, Robert, to let you go ... you're mine and no one else."
Are you convinced and seems to bounce back the energy that you always put in defending our history.
I'll make love, not only remains for me at least that's what I believe.


The flashing cameras have also caught this tour, the output of our favorite restaurant.
I smile, like a deja vu.
I follow, without leaving: I take you to me, surrounds your life, you're always a little dress, my adorable English boy.
"Mr. Downey what a nice surprise!" - Shouts from a crowd.
"Hello World! But you do not have a family? "- And laugh.
Jude is covered with one arm, but the British media have become accustomed to his impatience.
A reporter approaches, it is the Sun, I know - "So we were lucky to have her here again, for the reshoot of the new Holmes ..."
"Yes, an unexpected opportunity to stay with my Jude." - I say firmly.
I feel like pins, sticking my neck, have retreated, leaving the stage - "Judsie where are you going? I'm talking about you ... "- whispering sweet and you smile.
I crushed his wrist - "If he had, I would have sent in Malibu in a barrel full of nails!" - Exclaim, causing general hilarity.
"So are you ready for this new success?" - Pursues her, waving the microphone, waiting for one of us to reveal some kind of scoop.
It 'a unique opportunity.
"Personally I am ready to live a new day."
I'm serious.
Sounds become muffled, my attention is solely on you, my angel.
I'll give you a kiss, long, deep, and countered that leaves no room for any imagination or misunderstanding.

What happens next, we'll find out together tomorrow.

THE END