Fic: Ain't No Cure. A "Sex and Coffee" story. AU RPS. Chris/Jensen, Jensen/Jared and more. NC-17 3/3
Continued from here.
Epilogue
Chris pushes open the door to Chevy’s, smile already wide on his face before Jensen even turns around and sees him, his whole face lighting up like they didn’t see each other just a few hours ago. Like always, he drops everything to practically throw himself into Chris’s arms. Chris laughs, only meaning to drop a light kiss on his lips, but somehow he gets lost in Jensen’s soft mouth, and the smell of coffee on his skin, and the warmth of Jensen’s hands sliding through his hair. He loses time, loses their surroundings, loses everything but the absolute wonder of having this beautiful man in his arms. ‘I love you,’ he thinks. ‘I love you so goddamn much.’ It’s like a song in his head, a musical beat in his heart: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, sweet darlin’. Forever and always.’
He doesn’t know how many times Danni has cleared her throat when it finally penetrates the haze of ‘love’ and ‘want’ and ‘this’ and ‘now’. He sighs as he lets go of Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen sighs right along with him. “I need to…” Jensen says, regret coloring his voice, and Chris nods. “I know, love.” Jensen whimpers, and with a heartbeat they get lost again, kissing, kissing, kissing.
“Nevermind. What can I get you, sir? Don’t mind them, they can be like that for hours. You could at least get out of the way, guys!”
Jensen huffs a laugh into Chris’s mouth, the spell not breaking, just pausing long enough for Jensen to pull them aside and against the wall by the door to the storage room. And then they continue, kissing, kissing, kissing. Soft, and sweet, and warm and gentle, just kissing.
When they finally pull apart they’re both a little out of breath. Chris wraps his arms around Jensen, hugging him tight before stepping back. “How ‘bout I come over this time?” he says, cupping Jensen’s heated cheek in the palm of his hand. “Just you and me, darlin’. Would that be alright?”
He expects Jensen to hesitate, after all they’ve never done anything at Jensen and Jared’s place and for all he knows it’s their sanctuary, their private place away from the messier relationships in their lives. He’s only suggesting it because he’s not about to kick Steve out of his home, but he needs to have Jensen all to himself, just the two of them, after the emotional roller coaster he’s been on for the last couple of days. And with Jared back in Seattle to finish what he’d practically run off from, his and Jensen’s apartment is the better option.
But Jensen just gazes at him, eyes practically glowing with anticipation. “Yeah. Please,” he adds, sounding desperate enough that Chris almost starts kissing him again.
“Alright, love. Call me when you get there.” He risks a quick kiss, pulling away before the haze grabs hold of him again. And then he’s gone and out the door, his bruised lips burning in the cool wind of early New York spring.
He can’t help it, he’s nervous, making his way over to Jensen’s a few hours later. Steve had kissed him as he left, not possessive, just a light kind of ‘have fun’ kiss with a smile and, “I love seeing you so happy, babe. You should have come clean years ago.” And yeah, he should have but what’s done is done and it’s not like those seven years were a hardship, not when Jensen was always within his reach, and he got all the intimacy he needed, even if he thought he wasn’t getting the love he wanted. Except he was, and now he’s rethinking so many conversations, so many late night ‘I love you’s, so many times he caught Jensen watching him with warmth in his eyes that Chris thought meant family but turns out means so much more.
Jensen is in love with him. The enormity of it has Chris’s chest expanding and contracting like crazy, like his heart doesn’t know whether to explode wide open or pull all that love in to soak in it. He feels dizzy with all that love. God, he just loves, loves, loves so much! He can’t understand how people can feel this way about just one person, because it would be too much. It would be way too much.
His hand is shaking when he knocks on Jensen’s door, sweat running in pearls down his back. When Jensen opens the door, face flushed and eyes bright, Chris feels strangely shy, like he’s picking up his prom date. Not that he ever went to prom - you don’t take boys to prom down south, and, besides, he was long gone to Cali by then. Still, he imagines this is what he would have felt like, if the world had been just and right, and Jensen had been his high school sweetheart.
Maybe Jensen feels some of it, too, because he steps back to let him in without the usual enthusiastic kiss. “Come on,” he says, and “I was just…” voice trailing off as he closes the door and turns to face Chris, eyes downcast, bare feet shuffling. Chris reaches out to take his hand and when Jensen looks up Chris realizes he’s washed his face clean. No eyeliner, no mascara, no whatever else he puts on his face to look fabulous. Even his piercings are gone. His hair is wet, just a faint tinge of color remaining. The sharp smell that greeted Chris when Jensen opened the door suddenly clicks and Chris lifts Jensen’s hand, the clean fingernails oddly naked, still smelling of acetone.
“I wanted…” Jensen starts, then stops, blushing. “I was already in love with you back when I was…” He waves his free hand at himself. “I just… I can’t go back and tell you that, but I can, you know, be like I was.” He ducks his head, embarrassed. “Even if I look like a fucking choir boy.”
Chris presses his lips to the soft skin between Jensen’s thumb and index finger. “Darlin’, you’re absolutely beautiful.” He reaches to tilt Jensen’s chin so he can see those painfully raw green eyes, gazing at him. “You were the most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’d ever seen, even all bony and bruised with years of hell on your skin, and I fell so hard, love. I goddamn crashed to the ground and never stood up again.” He can feel Jensen shiver, and he steps closer, brushing Jensen’s hair aside and tugging it behind his ear. “I’ve been in love with you through every transition you’ve made since. Don’t matter if you’re dolled up like a beauty queen or fresh faced like a newborn baby. You are absolutely beautiful, love. Always were, always will be. And I love you so, so much.”
Chris kisses Jensen with more tenderness than he’s ever allowed himself to show, kisses him for all the years he’s held back, all the times he swapped his love for lust because he thought only one was allowed. Kisses him for the years still to come, when he’ll get to have this, all of this, and it’s still so amazing he can’t quite believe it. He kisses Jensen, again and again, soft lips and happy sighs, until Jensen sways slightly on his feet as his knees start buckling and he clings to Chris’s shoulders, like he’s half a heartbeat from actually swooning. Maybe they better sit down. Chris is starting to feel a little lightheaded himself.
“Come on, love,” he says, amused to discover they never even made it into the apartment but have been making out among the jungle of coats and shoes that make up Jensen and Jared’s hallway. “Living room?”
Jensen nods. He looks dizzy, the way he did sometimes when he was all skin and bones and just kissing was enough to drain him. Chris keeps an arm around his waist, steering him towards the couch. “You eaten anythin’, sweetheart?” he asks worried as he lowers Jensen onto the couch. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” Jensen murmurs. “I just… Guess I forgot to breathe,” he says embarrassed and lets his head fall back, eyes closed.
Chris laughs. “You better start remembering, ‘cause I plan on kissin’ you a whole lot more, love.” He sits down beside Jensen, resting his head on the back of the couch, just breathing it all in, before turning towards Jensen. “All day, in fact.”
He watches Jensen smile, eyes still closed, then he’s turning his head as well, seeking the warmth of Chris’s breath on his cheek. “Is that right?” he murmurs against Chris’s lips and then they’re kissing again, slow and lazy, soft and tender, and Chris thinks, yes, he could do nothing but this all day. Just kiss Jensen, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him! while the clock ticks, and the sun travels across the sky, and there’s nothing in the whole universe except the two of them. Except Jensen and his soft lips, his brilliant, beautiful eyes, his warm touches, his quick inhales and hot exhales, his low whimpers that sound like music. God, he loves him!
He gets lost in it all, licking into Jensen’s mouth, sucking on his tongue, pushing him back into the pillows, stroking his hair, kissing his neck, his ear, then back to his mouth - oh god, his mouth! - going from deep, slow kisses to light, quick kisses and back again. His hand slips under Jensen’s shirt, and the warmth of the soft skin caressing his palm makes him pull away from Jensen’s mouth and just breathe, breathe, breathe while Jensen gasps under him, stomach bellowing like waves, hips twitching.
“I love you,” Chris mumbles, his whole upper body lifting and lowering with each inhale and exhale. “I love you so much.”
“I know. I love you, too, Chris,” Jensen says softly, and Chris wonders how he never heard the truth in his words before, because it rings so clear now. He lifts his head, smiling when Jensen brushes away his hair, tucking it behind his ears even if they both know it will come loose as soon as they start kissing again. “I do. I love you,” Jensen repeats, gazing into Chris’s eyes.
Chris swallows. “I know, love. I’m sorry it took so long for me to see it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer,” Jensen says, looking genuinely regretful. “It never occurred to me you didn’t know.” He strokes Chris’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry I hurt you. With moving out and Jared and… everything.”
“That wasn’t… No.” Chris kisses him, quick but forceful. “No. I wanted you to have that. To be your own person, find your own love. I never resented… I never begrudged you any of that.”
“Still hurt, though?” Jensen asks, voice quiet, and Chris wants to deny it, doesn’t want to say anything that might make Jensen feel anything other than good and loved and happy, but all he manages is closing his eyes against the truth. Because yeah, it hurt. Hurt then and hurt every day since, still hurts now when he thinks about it. This quiet ache in his chest, this hollow sadness he just couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard he tried.
“Oh. Oh fuck, Chris. I’m so sorry,” Jensen says, sounding heartbroken, and Chris opens his eyes to find him staring up at him, tears in his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“No. No. No,” he repeats, because he can’t find the words to make this better. It was his own damn fault. He should have spoken up, should have been braver. Shouldn’t have assumed. But how could he have known? The way he loves is not even close to how normal people do it. How could he have known Jensen was the same? How could he have taken the chance and risked losing him? Risked losing what he got, which was already so much, much more than he ever could have dreamed of. “No, love. Weren’t nothin’ like that. Was just hard sometimes, but I always knew you loved me. Alright?”
Jensen bites his lip and nods, but he still looks guilty, still looks like he can’t stand it, so Chris leans down and kisses him. A soft, tender, grateful kiss. ‘For all you’ve given me, all you are to me, all you are.’ And ‘Love you, love this, love us, love, love, love.’
Chris lets go of Jensen’s mouth, trailing kisses down his throat, pushing Jensen’s t-shirt up so he can continue the trail down his chest and stomach, working Jensen’s jeans open while he sucks a mark into the soft skin by his belly button, and then, finally, he’s there. He kisses the hard length of Jensen’s dick through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs, chuckling at Jensen’s hitched breathing before he jerks the jeans further down because he wants to be able to reach all of him.
“Fuck,” Jensen hisses. “Chris, fuckfuckfuck!” and Chris laughs, licking teasingly across Jensen’s stomach, right above the waistband of his underwear before he tugs them down as well. Jensen’s dick springs free, the damn piercing waving at him like the dirtiest kind of promise ring, and Chris huffs out an amused breath that makes Jensen’s hips jerk up so his dick slaps Chris on the forehead.
“Easy, easy, darlin’,” Chris murmurs, blowing across the wet head, just for the fun of it, as he holds Jensen’s hips down. “I’mma make you feel good, just hold on.”
“Please,” Jensen whimpers, sounding more desperate than he should so early on, and just the thought that it might be for the same reason as Chris is hard enough to start humping the damn couch, has Chris’s cheeks turning red as his heart drums harder in his chest.
“Hold on,” he repeats, pulling himself up on his elbows and shaking his hair back (should have put it in a ponytail, dammit) before leaning forward and flicking his tongue across the head of Jensen’s dick, once, twice, then grabbing it by the root before it slaps him in the damn eye. The piercing is a simple ring, titanium or something like that, just wide enough that he can thrust the tip of his tongue through it, wriggling it like a worm on a hook while Jensen gasps, and swears and fights against the hold Chris has on his hips. “Easy!”
“You’re gonna fucking kill me!” Jensen groans, but it doesn’t sound like he’s complaining.
“Just a little, darlin’,” Chris promises and wriggles his tongue inside the ring again. And then he keeps at it, licking, sucking and swallowing Jensen down between fucking that damn piercing like that’s what it’s made for. Which it probably is, Chris has never been quite sure what would make a man get a thing like that, except now he’s got Jensen moaning and whimpering beneath him, he’s got a better idea than before. Still not looking to pierce his own, thank you very much. Ain’t no needle going anywhere near his dick!
Jensen’s balls are drawn up, wrinkled like peach stones, but he’s still holding on, one hand in Chris’s hair, the other clutching the couch cushion like he’s afraid he´ll fly straight off. Chris pushes Jensen’s knees up, even if it means he has to shove Jensen to the edge of the couch to have enough space to keep his dick in his mouth. He slips a finger in alongside Jensen’s cock, getting it all wet, then runs his hand down and pushes the finger in just as he swallows Jensen down to the root. Jensen shouts, his hips lifting off the couch as he comes, pumping straight down Chris’s throat. He holds on until his eyes start to water and he has to pull off, coughing and sucking in air. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks up, grinning when he sees Jensen staring at him, mouth open as he fights to get his breath back.
“Good?”
“Uhuh,” Jensen breathes, still shuddering.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck.”
Chris laughs, low and happy.
Jensen takes a deep breath, but Chris can feel his heart still hammering like crazy where he’s got his fingers splayed over Jensen’s chest. “Fuck. You’ve been holding out on me!”
“Nah.” Chris wipes his mouth on Jensen’s thigh before looking back at him with a grin. “Just been practicin’, that’s all.”
“Well, then Steve’s been holding out on me, ‘cause he has not been paying it forward.”
Chris feels absurdly pleased. Steve is, by all accounts, the king of blowjobs. Chris’s strong suit is kissing, Jared’s is, Chris is sure, fucking, and Jensen’s is being the inspiration to them all.
He drops his head down on Jensen’s stomach, humming happily when Jensen starts carding his fingers through his hair. Never mind that he’s still hard, he’s in no hurry to take care of it. When Jensen’s breathing slows down, Chris just smiles and kisses the warm skin of his belly, and as Jensen’s fingers fall slack against Chris’s neck, he closes his eyes and allows sleep to overtake him as well.
He wakes up to a lock of his hair being wrapped repeatedly around Jensen’s fingers, the tug just enough to pool heat in the pit of Chris’s belly. He moans, grinning when he hears Jensen laugh, his stomach jumping under Chris’s cheek.
“You like that?” Jensen whispers, like it’s not just the two of them here, alone with no one even close to listen. He gives another tug, and Chris’s whole body shudders. “Yeah?”
“You know I do,” Chris groans. He’s growing hard again even if he’s almost too lazy to move.
“Yeah, I know.” Jensen tugs once more then runs his fingers gently through Chris’s hair. “I just wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you like.”
“I like you,” Chris sighs happily. “Whatever you do, darlin’, that’s what I like.”
“Sap.”
“Mmhmm.” Chris lifts his head to meet Jensen’s eyes. “You hungry, love?” he asks, because he might not know what time it is but it’s way past dinner, that’s for sure, and all these years he’s never been able to stop worrying about Jensen eating enough.
“I’m alright,” Jensen says, just as his stomach rumbles. “Ugh, I am! I just… Yeah, maybe, a bit.”
“We have all night,” Chris reminds him, kissing his way back up Jensen’s stomach and chest to his mouth that is already panting when he gets there. They kiss for a while until Jensen’s stomach rumbles again, and Chris sits up with a grin even as Jensen lets his head fall back with an annoyed groan.
“Eat now, sex later,” Chris promises, shuffling up on his knees before climbing over Jensen to get off the couch. He picks up the first t-shirt he finds, which happens to not be his own, and, yeah, maybe he did that on purpose he admits to himself, inhaling Jensen’s scent discreetly as he pulls the shirt over his head. Not like Jensen hasn’t borrowed or stolen his clothes often enough.
Jensen doesn’t seem to mind; in fact his cheeks turn a little rosy and his eyes darken, never leaving Chris’s as he reaches for Chris’s shirt and puts it on. Chris can hear Jensen breathe in sharply before his head pops through the collar, and there’s that heat again, in the pit of his stomach where his burning ball of rage used to be. Except this one isn’t fire and brimstone, it’s the heat of Jensen’s tongue in his mouth, of Jensen’s fingers around Chris’s dick, of Jensen’s breath whispering Chris’s name into his ear. He watches Jensen roll to his feet, graceful like a cat despite his jeans and underwear still being all wrapped around his knees. Thinks of turning Jensen around, bending him over and fucking him, right here and now, with Chris’s t-shirt pushed up to his armpits. Moaning his name.
Chris breathes in. Breathes out. Later. They’ve got plenty of time.
He swats Jensen’s hands aside to help him pull up his underwear and jeans, tucking him in and zipping him up. Then he buries his face in Jensen’s neck, smelling his own laundry detergent right next to Jensen’s skin that smells of coffee and clean sweat. Just like that Chris is thrown back two years and then some, to when Jensen always smelled like home because they used the same soap, the same shampoo, their clothes always washed in the same load. And it hits him, that he’s going to have that again, that Jensen is coming home, and he can’t help hitching his breath as he pulls Jensen closer.
“Hey, what?” Jensen whispers. “Chris, hey. Baby. What?”
Chris shakes his head, face still buried in Jensen’s neck because he just can’t let go of that smell. “Nothin’. I’m sorry. Just… Gonna be good you bein’ home again, darlin’, that’s all,” he mutters, feeling a little embarrassed. “Missed you.” He nuzzles Jensen’s neck and with a shiver admits, “Fuck, you smell so good wearin’ my clothes.”
Jensen laughs although it sounds a little breathless. “Yeah?” He runs his nose up Chris’s neck, from the collar of the t-shirt and all the way behind Chris’s ear, burying his face in his hair. “Missed you, too,” he whispers, breath rolling down Chris’s neck. “Missed this.”
“What, us sniffin’ each other like dogs?” Chris chuckles.
“No, asshole,” Jensen laughs, biting his neck playfully. “You and me, alone. Hasn’t happened much lately.”
“Might happen even less once we’ll all be livin’ together,” Chris points out. “Ain’t gonna be much privacy, darlin’, no matter how bigger place we all get.”
Jensen pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in a frown, but then he shakes his head. “We’ll work it out. Put up a schedule or something. Like Steve said.” He smiles, and Chris’s stomach takes another dive at just how beautiful he is. “But we should probably use our time now well, anyway.” He kisses Chris, nibbling lightly at his lower lip. “Just you and me and no one else. All night, right?”
“Told Steve not to expect me home ‘til late tomorrow,” Chris says, kissing down Jensen’s neck. “He said to take the whole weekend if we needed.”
“Steve’s a smart man,” Jensen groans, one hand coming to rest on Chris’s hip, the other sneaking up to grab Chris’s hair, giving it a sharp tug.
“That he is,” Chris agrees and sinks gracefully to his knees.
----------
“That’s two times you’ve gotten me off now without you getting any in return,” Jensen complains. Well, not complains maybe, but he does sound a little guilty which Chris really doesn’t care for.
“I was just gettin’ myself an appetizer, darlin’. A little amuse-bouche, if you like.” He grins when Jensen snorts. “What, you don’t think I know me some fancy words jus’ cause they’re French?”
“Oh, I believe you know lots of fancy things, French or otherwise,” Jensen says, sitting up from where he’s been lying flat on the floor, recuperating. He leans over Chris, who’s sprawling lazily beside him, and kisses him deep and dirty. “Now, I’m more a main course kinda guy but I might be persuaded to try a little dessert after.”
He stands up and disappears into the bathroom, only laughing when Chris yells after him, “What kind of dessert?”
Chris relaxes with a grin, listening to Jensen hum happily in the bathroom. He wouldn’t say he’d gotten nothing in return. Apart from the sheer bliss of making Jensen feel good, the hair tugging had him so close to coming in his pants that even now he’s afraid to touch himself for fear of losing it. He’s always liked his lovers tugging on his hair, part of why he grew it out after all, but this time Jensen’s fist had been almost brutal, whether deliberate or just caught in the moment. Sent Chris somewhere in his head he´d never thought he wanted to go. Not that he should be surprised, all things considered. Just… weren’t expecting it. Makes him wonder if it’s something Jensen saw in him or if it’s just something he does to Jared; they’ve been playing a bit with that sort of thing after all. Spanking and such. Made Chris a bit uncomfortable at first, considering Jensen’s history, but people like what they like and who’s he to judge. Still, now they’ll all be in the same place, he’ll be better able to keep an eye out, make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.
“You need a hand getting up, old man?”
Chris looks up at Jensen’s smirking face and rolls easily to his feet, never mind the slight twinge in his knees. Old man, my ass. “Shut the fuck up, kid, and buy me dinner,” he grumbles, grinning when Jensen laughs.
They order pizza and spend their time waiting for it making out on the couch. By the time their food gets there Jensen’s stomach is rumbling again and even Chris is feeling ravenous.
He eats slowly, sipping his beer and enjoying watching Jensen wolf down three times the amount of food he would have been able to manage seven years ago. Feeling stupidly proud of how unapologetically Jensen eats more than his fair share, just because he wants to. It took a long time for Jensen to get over his timid relationship with food; not just to be able to eat whenever he felt hungry but to eat plenty and then finally with preference. To develop a palate, a taste for some things and distaste for others, without feeling guilt or even shame for not just being grateful for whatever he was offered. The day he admitted to hating green peppers is still one of the proudest in Chris’s life.
He grabs Jensen’s guitar and strums happily while Jensen cleans up after them. Chris is halfway through a new song when Jensen comes back in with a couple of beers. He sits back, eyes closed, fingers tapping along with the tune and Chris can’t take his eyes of him. He trades the simple humming he’s been doing for lyrics, putting every emotion he’s feeling into the words as he watches Jensen’s chest rise and fall, his eyes moving under paper-thin eyelids. Suddenly Jensen’s eyes open, gazing back at him with such heat Chris’s fingers falter on the strings, the off-key strumming painfully loud in the suddenly electrified room. He stops, putting the guitar aside, preparing to stand up when he hesitates. Maybe Jensen and Jared’s bedroom is the private area he’d been afraid the whole apartment was.
“Bedroom?” Jensen suggests and Chris breathes out in relief. Jensen stands up and pulls Chris to his feet before dragging him along to the bedroom. Again Chris hesitates as he’s crossing the threshold. Everything about the room screams relationship, His and His, from the picture of Jared’s family on one nightstand, to the picture of… the picture of Jensen smashed between Chris and Steve on the other, with Chris gazing at Jensen with such blatant adoration, that of course Jensen had figured it out. And still the picture is here, in their space, their most intimate sanctuary.
Something unhinges in Chris’s chest just as it closes up his throat. He can’t remember ever seeing that picture before. He would have remembered as it would have made him cringe with embarrassment, even shame. But not now, now it makes him so happy he thinks he might cry.
“What?” Jensen asks, seeming bewildered at Chris’s sudden stillness until he follows his gaze. “Oh, this? I love this picture,” he says, touching it reverently. “Every time I feel lonely or miss you… The way you’re looking at me… I don’t know. I just feel better, cause I know you love me.”
“I do,” Chris says, his voice hoarse. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so damn much.” He feels ready to fall to his knees again, in awe or worship or just plain gratitude, because he still can’t understand how he got to have this. How he got to be so damn lucky, because God knows he doesn’t deserve it. To not only be allowed to love them all but that they love him back.
He’s so lost in his feelings he hardly even registers Jensen walking over to help him pull the t-shirt over his head and unzip his jeans. Doesn’t really wake up from his stupor until he’s stepping out of his pants with Jensen’s gentle coaxing seeping through the haze like a whisper.
“Come on,” Jensen says, swiftly dispatching his own t-shirt. “Lie down. Chris, hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, shaking the fog out of his head. “Sorry, I just…” He pulls in a shaky breath as he allows Jensen to push him down on the bed. “Weren’t expectin’ that, is all.”
“What? The picture?” Jensen asks, sounding surprised. He’s pulling down his pants, stripping bare like it’s nothing.
“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, you thinkin’ of me like that.”
Jensen blinks at him but then his eyes soften, and he crawls into bed, slotting himself to Chris’s side like a puzzle piece that fits just right. “Like I love you? Like I miss you? Like I want you to be here, beside me, kissing me, loving me,” he slides on top of Chris, their erections rubbing hard against each other, “fucking me?”
“Yeah, that,” Chris whispers, and then they’re kissing again except it’s hot and dirty and desperate and God, Chris wants him so much. Wants to fuck him, wants to crawl under his skin and cradle his heart and write his name on his ribs, and, god, he must be losing his goddamn mind because that’s not normal, he’s not normal, none of this is normal, but he doesn’t fucking care, he couldn’t stop now if Jared came bursting through the door, screaming at him, or Steve came running, begging him not to, because he loves Jensen so much, he loves him so much, so much, so much.
He's aware of Jensen reminding him to breathe, telling him where the lube is, saying, “Fuck, yeah,” and, “Right there,” and, “Jesus, Chris, please, please, please” and then he’s in that heat, gazing down into those eyes and kissing that mouth that he’s never been able to keep out of his hopes and dreams and visions of the future. Jensen’s heels are digging into his spine, his fingers entangle in Chris’s hair, tugging hard, and a deep keening sound erupts from Chris’s chest, crawling its way up his throat like an animal. His vision goes blurry as he stares into Jensen’s eyes that gaze back up at him in wonder, wide and dark and desperate. He kisses Jensen’s mouth between sobs and moans and, “Harder,” and, “Fuckfuckfuck!” and, “Loveyouloveyouloveyou,” while the heat deep down in the pit of his stomach keeps rising, expanding, boiling, until Jensen cries out, head thrown back, and Chris’s whole world turns red with fire.
He comes to with Jensen stroking his face, thumbs sliding wetly over his cheeks. “Hey,” Jensen says, smiling. “That was amazing. You were fucking amazing.”
“I bawled like a baby,” Chris argues, his voice all wet and hoarse.
“While fucking my goddamn brains out.” Jensen grins down at him.
“Talkin’ an awful lot with no brain,” Chris mumbles “Can’t have been that good.”
Jensen laughs. “Dude, you’ve been out for like five minutes. Gave me some time to recover.”
“Five minutes? Then why’s my face still wet?” Chris says, frowning at the hitch in his voice.
Jensen slides his thumb over Chris’s cheek again, just as easily as before. “You seem to be having some trouble stopping.”
“Aw, fuck.” He closes his eyes, mortified. He can’t stop his breath hitching either, even if it’s starting to make his throat hurt. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me, love.”
“I think maybe you’re just happy,” Jensen says and kisses his cheeks, his eyes, his lips. Chris can taste the salt of his own tears on Jensen’s tongue. “Nothing wrong with that.”
Chris wraps his arms around Jensen’s neck, burying his wet face in the dip by his ear. Jensen slides on top of him like a blanket, and then they just lie like that, legs entangled, Jensen gently stroking Chris’s hair while Chris cries Jensen’s throat wet, and himself, finally, to sleep.
He dreams he’s on stage, guitar in his lap and bright lights in his face. Steve is grinning at him from across the room while Jared and Jensen slow dance to the music. He sips his beer and sings into the mic, the spotlights warming him up like a bonfire.
fin
Epilogue
Chris pushes open the door to Chevy’s, smile already wide on his face before Jensen even turns around and sees him, his whole face lighting up like they didn’t see each other just a few hours ago. Like always, he drops everything to practically throw himself into Chris’s arms. Chris laughs, only meaning to drop a light kiss on his lips, but somehow he gets lost in Jensen’s soft mouth, and the smell of coffee on his skin, and the warmth of Jensen’s hands sliding through his hair. He loses time, loses their surroundings, loses everything but the absolute wonder of having this beautiful man in his arms. ‘I love you,’ he thinks. ‘I love you so goddamn much.’ It’s like a song in his head, a musical beat in his heart: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, sweet darlin’. Forever and always.’
He doesn’t know how many times Danni has cleared her throat when it finally penetrates the haze of ‘love’ and ‘want’ and ‘this’ and ‘now’. He sighs as he lets go of Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen sighs right along with him. “I need to…” Jensen says, regret coloring his voice, and Chris nods. “I know, love.” Jensen whimpers, and with a heartbeat they get lost again, kissing, kissing, kissing.
“Nevermind. What can I get you, sir? Don’t mind them, they can be like that for hours. You could at least get out of the way, guys!”
Jensen huffs a laugh into Chris’s mouth, the spell not breaking, just pausing long enough for Jensen to pull them aside and against the wall by the door to the storage room. And then they continue, kissing, kissing, kissing. Soft, and sweet, and warm and gentle, just kissing.
When they finally pull apart they’re both a little out of breath. Chris wraps his arms around Jensen, hugging him tight before stepping back. “How ‘bout I come over this time?” he says, cupping Jensen’s heated cheek in the palm of his hand. “Just you and me, darlin’. Would that be alright?”
He expects Jensen to hesitate, after all they’ve never done anything at Jensen and Jared’s place and for all he knows it’s their sanctuary, their private place away from the messier relationships in their lives. He’s only suggesting it because he’s not about to kick Steve out of his home, but he needs to have Jensen all to himself, just the two of them, after the emotional roller coaster he’s been on for the last couple of days. And with Jared back in Seattle to finish what he’d practically run off from, his and Jensen’s apartment is the better option.
But Jensen just gazes at him, eyes practically glowing with anticipation. “Yeah. Please,” he adds, sounding desperate enough that Chris almost starts kissing him again.
“Alright, love. Call me when you get there.” He risks a quick kiss, pulling away before the haze grabs hold of him again. And then he’s gone and out the door, his bruised lips burning in the cool wind of early New York spring.
He can’t help it, he’s nervous, making his way over to Jensen’s a few hours later. Steve had kissed him as he left, not possessive, just a light kind of ‘have fun’ kiss with a smile and, “I love seeing you so happy, babe. You should have come clean years ago.” And yeah, he should have but what’s done is done and it’s not like those seven years were a hardship, not when Jensen was always within his reach, and he got all the intimacy he needed, even if he thought he wasn’t getting the love he wanted. Except he was, and now he’s rethinking so many conversations, so many late night ‘I love you’s, so many times he caught Jensen watching him with warmth in his eyes that Chris thought meant family but turns out means so much more.
Jensen is in love with him. The enormity of it has Chris’s chest expanding and contracting like crazy, like his heart doesn’t know whether to explode wide open or pull all that love in to soak in it. He feels dizzy with all that love. God, he just loves, loves, loves so much! He can’t understand how people can feel this way about just one person, because it would be too much. It would be way too much.
His hand is shaking when he knocks on Jensen’s door, sweat running in pearls down his back. When Jensen opens the door, face flushed and eyes bright, Chris feels strangely shy, like he’s picking up his prom date. Not that he ever went to prom - you don’t take boys to prom down south, and, besides, he was long gone to Cali by then. Still, he imagines this is what he would have felt like, if the world had been just and right, and Jensen had been his high school sweetheart.
Maybe Jensen feels some of it, too, because he steps back to let him in without the usual enthusiastic kiss. “Come on,” he says, and “I was just…” voice trailing off as he closes the door and turns to face Chris, eyes downcast, bare feet shuffling. Chris reaches out to take his hand and when Jensen looks up Chris realizes he’s washed his face clean. No eyeliner, no mascara, no whatever else he puts on his face to look fabulous. Even his piercings are gone. His hair is wet, just a faint tinge of color remaining. The sharp smell that greeted Chris when Jensen opened the door suddenly clicks and Chris lifts Jensen’s hand, the clean fingernails oddly naked, still smelling of acetone.
“I wanted…” Jensen starts, then stops, blushing. “I was already in love with you back when I was…” He waves his free hand at himself. “I just… I can’t go back and tell you that, but I can, you know, be like I was.” He ducks his head, embarrassed. “Even if I look like a fucking choir boy.”
Chris presses his lips to the soft skin between Jensen’s thumb and index finger. “Darlin’, you’re absolutely beautiful.” He reaches to tilt Jensen’s chin so he can see those painfully raw green eyes, gazing at him. “You were the most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’d ever seen, even all bony and bruised with years of hell on your skin, and I fell so hard, love. I goddamn crashed to the ground and never stood up again.” He can feel Jensen shiver, and he steps closer, brushing Jensen’s hair aside and tugging it behind his ear. “I’ve been in love with you through every transition you’ve made since. Don’t matter if you’re dolled up like a beauty queen or fresh faced like a newborn baby. You are absolutely beautiful, love. Always were, always will be. And I love you so, so much.”
Chris kisses Jensen with more tenderness than he’s ever allowed himself to show, kisses him for all the years he’s held back, all the times he swapped his love for lust because he thought only one was allowed. Kisses him for the years still to come, when he’ll get to have this, all of this, and it’s still so amazing he can’t quite believe it. He kisses Jensen, again and again, soft lips and happy sighs, until Jensen sways slightly on his feet as his knees start buckling and he clings to Chris’s shoulders, like he’s half a heartbeat from actually swooning. Maybe they better sit down. Chris is starting to feel a little lightheaded himself.
“Come on, love,” he says, amused to discover they never even made it into the apartment but have been making out among the jungle of coats and shoes that make up Jensen and Jared’s hallway. “Living room?”
Jensen nods. He looks dizzy, the way he did sometimes when he was all skin and bones and just kissing was enough to drain him. Chris keeps an arm around his waist, steering him towards the couch. “You eaten anythin’, sweetheart?” he asks worried as he lowers Jensen onto the couch. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” Jensen murmurs. “I just… Guess I forgot to breathe,” he says embarrassed and lets his head fall back, eyes closed.
Chris laughs. “You better start remembering, ‘cause I plan on kissin’ you a whole lot more, love.” He sits down beside Jensen, resting his head on the back of the couch, just breathing it all in, before turning towards Jensen. “All day, in fact.”
He watches Jensen smile, eyes still closed, then he’s turning his head as well, seeking the warmth of Chris’s breath on his cheek. “Is that right?” he murmurs against Chris’s lips and then they’re kissing again, slow and lazy, soft and tender, and Chris thinks, yes, he could do nothing but this all day. Just kiss Jensen, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him! while the clock ticks, and the sun travels across the sky, and there’s nothing in the whole universe except the two of them. Except Jensen and his soft lips, his brilliant, beautiful eyes, his warm touches, his quick inhales and hot exhales, his low whimpers that sound like music. God, he loves him!
He gets lost in it all, licking into Jensen’s mouth, sucking on his tongue, pushing him back into the pillows, stroking his hair, kissing his neck, his ear, then back to his mouth - oh god, his mouth! - going from deep, slow kisses to light, quick kisses and back again. His hand slips under Jensen’s shirt, and the warmth of the soft skin caressing his palm makes him pull away from Jensen’s mouth and just breathe, breathe, breathe while Jensen gasps under him, stomach bellowing like waves, hips twitching.
“I love you,” Chris mumbles, his whole upper body lifting and lowering with each inhale and exhale. “I love you so much.”
“I know. I love you, too, Chris,” Jensen says softly, and Chris wonders how he never heard the truth in his words before, because it rings so clear now. He lifts his head, smiling when Jensen brushes away his hair, tucking it behind his ears even if they both know it will come loose as soon as they start kissing again. “I do. I love you,” Jensen repeats, gazing into Chris’s eyes.
Chris swallows. “I know, love. I’m sorry it took so long for me to see it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clearer,” Jensen says, looking genuinely regretful. “It never occurred to me you didn’t know.” He strokes Chris’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry I hurt you. With moving out and Jared and… everything.”
“That wasn’t… No.” Chris kisses him, quick but forceful. “No. I wanted you to have that. To be your own person, find your own love. I never resented… I never begrudged you any of that.”
“Still hurt, though?” Jensen asks, voice quiet, and Chris wants to deny it, doesn’t want to say anything that might make Jensen feel anything other than good and loved and happy, but all he manages is closing his eyes against the truth. Because yeah, it hurt. Hurt then and hurt every day since, still hurts now when he thinks about it. This quiet ache in his chest, this hollow sadness he just couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard he tried.
“Oh. Oh fuck, Chris. I’m so sorry,” Jensen says, sounding heartbroken, and Chris opens his eyes to find him staring up at him, tears in his beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“No. No. No,” he repeats, because he can’t find the words to make this better. It was his own damn fault. He should have spoken up, should have been braver. Shouldn’t have assumed. But how could he have known? The way he loves is not even close to how normal people do it. How could he have known Jensen was the same? How could he have taken the chance and risked losing him? Risked losing what he got, which was already so much, much more than he ever could have dreamed of. “No, love. Weren’t nothin’ like that. Was just hard sometimes, but I always knew you loved me. Alright?”
Jensen bites his lip and nods, but he still looks guilty, still looks like he can’t stand it, so Chris leans down and kisses him. A soft, tender, grateful kiss. ‘For all you’ve given me, all you are to me, all you are.’ And ‘Love you, love this, love us, love, love, love.’
Chris lets go of Jensen’s mouth, trailing kisses down his throat, pushing Jensen’s t-shirt up so he can continue the trail down his chest and stomach, working Jensen’s jeans open while he sucks a mark into the soft skin by his belly button, and then, finally, he’s there. He kisses the hard length of Jensen’s dick through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs, chuckling at Jensen’s hitched breathing before he jerks the jeans further down because he wants to be able to reach all of him.
“Fuck,” Jensen hisses. “Chris, fuckfuckfuck!” and Chris laughs, licking teasingly across Jensen’s stomach, right above the waistband of his underwear before he tugs them down as well. Jensen’s dick springs free, the damn piercing waving at him like the dirtiest kind of promise ring, and Chris huffs out an amused breath that makes Jensen’s hips jerk up so his dick slaps Chris on the forehead.
“Easy, easy, darlin’,” Chris murmurs, blowing across the wet head, just for the fun of it, as he holds Jensen’s hips down. “I’mma make you feel good, just hold on.”
“Please,” Jensen whimpers, sounding more desperate than he should so early on, and just the thought that it might be for the same reason as Chris is hard enough to start humping the damn couch, has Chris’s cheeks turning red as his heart drums harder in his chest.
“Hold on,” he repeats, pulling himself up on his elbows and shaking his hair back (should have put it in a ponytail, dammit) before leaning forward and flicking his tongue across the head of Jensen’s dick, once, twice, then grabbing it by the root before it slaps him in the damn eye. The piercing is a simple ring, titanium or something like that, just wide enough that he can thrust the tip of his tongue through it, wriggling it like a worm on a hook while Jensen gasps, and swears and fights against the hold Chris has on his hips. “Easy!”
“You’re gonna fucking kill me!” Jensen groans, but it doesn’t sound like he’s complaining.
“Just a little, darlin’,” Chris promises and wriggles his tongue inside the ring again. And then he keeps at it, licking, sucking and swallowing Jensen down between fucking that damn piercing like that’s what it’s made for. Which it probably is, Chris has never been quite sure what would make a man get a thing like that, except now he’s got Jensen moaning and whimpering beneath him, he’s got a better idea than before. Still not looking to pierce his own, thank you very much. Ain’t no needle going anywhere near his dick!
Jensen’s balls are drawn up, wrinkled like peach stones, but he’s still holding on, one hand in Chris’s hair, the other clutching the couch cushion like he’s afraid he´ll fly straight off. Chris pushes Jensen’s knees up, even if it means he has to shove Jensen to the edge of the couch to have enough space to keep his dick in his mouth. He slips a finger in alongside Jensen’s cock, getting it all wet, then runs his hand down and pushes the finger in just as he swallows Jensen down to the root. Jensen shouts, his hips lifting off the couch as he comes, pumping straight down Chris’s throat. He holds on until his eyes start to water and he has to pull off, coughing and sucking in air. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks up, grinning when he sees Jensen staring at him, mouth open as he fights to get his breath back.
“Good?”
“Uhuh,” Jensen breathes, still shuddering.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck.”
Chris laughs, low and happy.
Jensen takes a deep breath, but Chris can feel his heart still hammering like crazy where he’s got his fingers splayed over Jensen’s chest. “Fuck. You’ve been holding out on me!”
“Nah.” Chris wipes his mouth on Jensen’s thigh before looking back at him with a grin. “Just been practicin’, that’s all.”
“Well, then Steve’s been holding out on me, ‘cause he has not been paying it forward.”
Chris feels absurdly pleased. Steve is, by all accounts, the king of blowjobs. Chris’s strong suit is kissing, Jared’s is, Chris is sure, fucking, and Jensen’s is being the inspiration to them all.
He drops his head down on Jensen’s stomach, humming happily when Jensen starts carding his fingers through his hair. Never mind that he’s still hard, he’s in no hurry to take care of it. When Jensen’s breathing slows down, Chris just smiles and kisses the warm skin of his belly, and as Jensen’s fingers fall slack against Chris’s neck, he closes his eyes and allows sleep to overtake him as well.
He wakes up to a lock of his hair being wrapped repeatedly around Jensen’s fingers, the tug just enough to pool heat in the pit of Chris’s belly. He moans, grinning when he hears Jensen laugh, his stomach jumping under Chris’s cheek.
“You like that?” Jensen whispers, like it’s not just the two of them here, alone with no one even close to listen. He gives another tug, and Chris’s whole body shudders. “Yeah?”
“You know I do,” Chris groans. He’s growing hard again even if he’s almost too lazy to move.
“Yeah, I know.” Jensen tugs once more then runs his fingers gently through Chris’s hair. “I just wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you like.”
“I like you,” Chris sighs happily. “Whatever you do, darlin’, that’s what I like.”
“Sap.”
“Mmhmm.” Chris lifts his head to meet Jensen’s eyes. “You hungry, love?” he asks, because he might not know what time it is but it’s way past dinner, that’s for sure, and all these years he’s never been able to stop worrying about Jensen eating enough.
“I’m alright,” Jensen says, just as his stomach rumbles. “Ugh, I am! I just… Yeah, maybe, a bit.”
“We have all night,” Chris reminds him, kissing his way back up Jensen’s stomach and chest to his mouth that is already panting when he gets there. They kiss for a while until Jensen’s stomach rumbles again, and Chris sits up with a grin even as Jensen lets his head fall back with an annoyed groan.
“Eat now, sex later,” Chris promises, shuffling up on his knees before climbing over Jensen to get off the couch. He picks up the first t-shirt he finds, which happens to not be his own, and, yeah, maybe he did that on purpose he admits to himself, inhaling Jensen’s scent discreetly as he pulls the shirt over his head. Not like Jensen hasn’t borrowed or stolen his clothes often enough.
Jensen doesn’t seem to mind; in fact his cheeks turn a little rosy and his eyes darken, never leaving Chris’s as he reaches for Chris’s shirt and puts it on. Chris can hear Jensen breathe in sharply before his head pops through the collar, and there’s that heat again, in the pit of his stomach where his burning ball of rage used to be. Except this one isn’t fire and brimstone, it’s the heat of Jensen’s tongue in his mouth, of Jensen’s fingers around Chris’s dick, of Jensen’s breath whispering Chris’s name into his ear. He watches Jensen roll to his feet, graceful like a cat despite his jeans and underwear still being all wrapped around his knees. Thinks of turning Jensen around, bending him over and fucking him, right here and now, with Chris’s t-shirt pushed up to his armpits. Moaning his name.
Chris breathes in. Breathes out. Later. They’ve got plenty of time.
He swats Jensen’s hands aside to help him pull up his underwear and jeans, tucking him in and zipping him up. Then he buries his face in Jensen’s neck, smelling his own laundry detergent right next to Jensen’s skin that smells of coffee and clean sweat. Just like that Chris is thrown back two years and then some, to when Jensen always smelled like home because they used the same soap, the same shampoo, their clothes always washed in the same load. And it hits him, that he’s going to have that again, that Jensen is coming home, and he can’t help hitching his breath as he pulls Jensen closer.
“Hey, what?” Jensen whispers. “Chris, hey. Baby. What?”
Chris shakes his head, face still buried in Jensen’s neck because he just can’t let go of that smell. “Nothin’. I’m sorry. Just… Gonna be good you bein’ home again, darlin’, that’s all,” he mutters, feeling a little embarrassed. “Missed you.” He nuzzles Jensen’s neck and with a shiver admits, “Fuck, you smell so good wearin’ my clothes.”
Jensen laughs although it sounds a little breathless. “Yeah?” He runs his nose up Chris’s neck, from the collar of the t-shirt and all the way behind Chris’s ear, burying his face in his hair. “Missed you, too,” he whispers, breath rolling down Chris’s neck. “Missed this.”
“What, us sniffin’ each other like dogs?” Chris chuckles.
“No, asshole,” Jensen laughs, biting his neck playfully. “You and me, alone. Hasn’t happened much lately.”
“Might happen even less once we’ll all be livin’ together,” Chris points out. “Ain’t gonna be much privacy, darlin’, no matter how bigger place we all get.”
Jensen pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in a frown, but then he shakes his head. “We’ll work it out. Put up a schedule or something. Like Steve said.” He smiles, and Chris’s stomach takes another dive at just how beautiful he is. “But we should probably use our time now well, anyway.” He kisses Chris, nibbling lightly at his lower lip. “Just you and me and no one else. All night, right?”
“Told Steve not to expect me home ‘til late tomorrow,” Chris says, kissing down Jensen’s neck. “He said to take the whole weekend if we needed.”
“Steve’s a smart man,” Jensen groans, one hand coming to rest on Chris’s hip, the other sneaking up to grab Chris’s hair, giving it a sharp tug.
“That he is,” Chris agrees and sinks gracefully to his knees.
----------
“That’s two times you’ve gotten me off now without you getting any in return,” Jensen complains. Well, not complains maybe, but he does sound a little guilty which Chris really doesn’t care for.
“I was just gettin’ myself an appetizer, darlin’. A little amuse-bouche, if you like.” He grins when Jensen snorts. “What, you don’t think I know me some fancy words jus’ cause they’re French?”
“Oh, I believe you know lots of fancy things, French or otherwise,” Jensen says, sitting up from where he’s been lying flat on the floor, recuperating. He leans over Chris, who’s sprawling lazily beside him, and kisses him deep and dirty. “Now, I’m more a main course kinda guy but I might be persuaded to try a little dessert after.”
He stands up and disappears into the bathroom, only laughing when Chris yells after him, “What kind of dessert?”
Chris relaxes with a grin, listening to Jensen hum happily in the bathroom. He wouldn’t say he’d gotten nothing in return. Apart from the sheer bliss of making Jensen feel good, the hair tugging had him so close to coming in his pants that even now he’s afraid to touch himself for fear of losing it. He’s always liked his lovers tugging on his hair, part of why he grew it out after all, but this time Jensen’s fist had been almost brutal, whether deliberate or just caught in the moment. Sent Chris somewhere in his head he´d never thought he wanted to go. Not that he should be surprised, all things considered. Just… weren’t expecting it. Makes him wonder if it’s something Jensen saw in him or if it’s just something he does to Jared; they’ve been playing a bit with that sort of thing after all. Spanking and such. Made Chris a bit uncomfortable at first, considering Jensen’s history, but people like what they like and who’s he to judge. Still, now they’ll all be in the same place, he’ll be better able to keep an eye out, make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.
“You need a hand getting up, old man?”
Chris looks up at Jensen’s smirking face and rolls easily to his feet, never mind the slight twinge in his knees. Old man, my ass. “Shut the fuck up, kid, and buy me dinner,” he grumbles, grinning when Jensen laughs.
They order pizza and spend their time waiting for it making out on the couch. By the time their food gets there Jensen’s stomach is rumbling again and even Chris is feeling ravenous.
He eats slowly, sipping his beer and enjoying watching Jensen wolf down three times the amount of food he would have been able to manage seven years ago. Feeling stupidly proud of how unapologetically Jensen eats more than his fair share, just because he wants to. It took a long time for Jensen to get over his timid relationship with food; not just to be able to eat whenever he felt hungry but to eat plenty and then finally with preference. To develop a palate, a taste for some things and distaste for others, without feeling guilt or even shame for not just being grateful for whatever he was offered. The day he admitted to hating green peppers is still one of the proudest in Chris’s life.
He grabs Jensen’s guitar and strums happily while Jensen cleans up after them. Chris is halfway through a new song when Jensen comes back in with a couple of beers. He sits back, eyes closed, fingers tapping along with the tune and Chris can’t take his eyes of him. He trades the simple humming he’s been doing for lyrics, putting every emotion he’s feeling into the words as he watches Jensen’s chest rise and fall, his eyes moving under paper-thin eyelids. Suddenly Jensen’s eyes open, gazing back at him with such heat Chris’s fingers falter on the strings, the off-key strumming painfully loud in the suddenly electrified room. He stops, putting the guitar aside, preparing to stand up when he hesitates. Maybe Jensen and Jared’s bedroom is the private area he’d been afraid the whole apartment was.
“Bedroom?” Jensen suggests and Chris breathes out in relief. Jensen stands up and pulls Chris to his feet before dragging him along to the bedroom. Again Chris hesitates as he’s crossing the threshold. Everything about the room screams relationship, His and His, from the picture of Jared’s family on one nightstand, to the picture of… the picture of Jensen smashed between Chris and Steve on the other, with Chris gazing at Jensen with such blatant adoration, that of course Jensen had figured it out. And still the picture is here, in their space, their most intimate sanctuary.
Something unhinges in Chris’s chest just as it closes up his throat. He can’t remember ever seeing that picture before. He would have remembered as it would have made him cringe with embarrassment, even shame. But not now, now it makes him so happy he thinks he might cry.
“What?” Jensen asks, seeming bewildered at Chris’s sudden stillness until he follows his gaze. “Oh, this? I love this picture,” he says, touching it reverently. “Every time I feel lonely or miss you… The way you’re looking at me… I don’t know. I just feel better, cause I know you love me.”
“I do,” Chris says, his voice hoarse. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so damn much.” He feels ready to fall to his knees again, in awe or worship or just plain gratitude, because he still can’t understand how he got to have this. How he got to be so damn lucky, because God knows he doesn’t deserve it. To not only be allowed to love them all but that they love him back.
He’s so lost in his feelings he hardly even registers Jensen walking over to help him pull the t-shirt over his head and unzip his jeans. Doesn’t really wake up from his stupor until he’s stepping out of his pants with Jensen’s gentle coaxing seeping through the haze like a whisper.
“Come on,” Jensen says, swiftly dispatching his own t-shirt. “Lie down. Chris, hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, shaking the fog out of his head. “Sorry, I just…” He pulls in a shaky breath as he allows Jensen to push him down on the bed. “Weren’t expectin’ that, is all.”
“What? The picture?” Jensen asks, sounding surprised. He’s pulling down his pants, stripping bare like it’s nothing.
“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, you thinkin’ of me like that.”
Jensen blinks at him but then his eyes soften, and he crawls into bed, slotting himself to Chris’s side like a puzzle piece that fits just right. “Like I love you? Like I miss you? Like I want you to be here, beside me, kissing me, loving me,” he slides on top of Chris, their erections rubbing hard against each other, “fucking me?”
“Yeah, that,” Chris whispers, and then they’re kissing again except it’s hot and dirty and desperate and God, Chris wants him so much. Wants to fuck him, wants to crawl under his skin and cradle his heart and write his name on his ribs, and, god, he must be losing his goddamn mind because that’s not normal, he’s not normal, none of this is normal, but he doesn’t fucking care, he couldn’t stop now if Jared came bursting through the door, screaming at him, or Steve came running, begging him not to, because he loves Jensen so much, he loves him so much, so much, so much.
He's aware of Jensen reminding him to breathe, telling him where the lube is, saying, “Fuck, yeah,” and, “Right there,” and, “Jesus, Chris, please, please, please” and then he’s in that heat, gazing down into those eyes and kissing that mouth that he’s never been able to keep out of his hopes and dreams and visions of the future. Jensen’s heels are digging into his spine, his fingers entangle in Chris’s hair, tugging hard, and a deep keening sound erupts from Chris’s chest, crawling its way up his throat like an animal. His vision goes blurry as he stares into Jensen’s eyes that gaze back up at him in wonder, wide and dark and desperate. He kisses Jensen’s mouth between sobs and moans and, “Harder,” and, “Fuckfuckfuck!” and, “Loveyouloveyouloveyou,” while the heat deep down in the pit of his stomach keeps rising, expanding, boiling, until Jensen cries out, head thrown back, and Chris’s whole world turns red with fire.
He comes to with Jensen stroking his face, thumbs sliding wetly over his cheeks. “Hey,” Jensen says, smiling. “That was amazing. You were fucking amazing.”
“I bawled like a baby,” Chris argues, his voice all wet and hoarse.
“While fucking my goddamn brains out.” Jensen grins down at him.
“Talkin’ an awful lot with no brain,” Chris mumbles “Can’t have been that good.”
Jensen laughs. “Dude, you’ve been out for like five minutes. Gave me some time to recover.”
“Five minutes? Then why’s my face still wet?” Chris says, frowning at the hitch in his voice.
Jensen slides his thumb over Chris’s cheek again, just as easily as before. “You seem to be having some trouble stopping.”
“Aw, fuck.” He closes his eyes, mortified. He can’t stop his breath hitching either, even if it’s starting to make his throat hurt. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me, love.”
“I think maybe you’re just happy,” Jensen says and kisses his cheeks, his eyes, his lips. Chris can taste the salt of his own tears on Jensen’s tongue. “Nothing wrong with that.”
Chris wraps his arms around Jensen’s neck, burying his wet face in the dip by his ear. Jensen slides on top of him like a blanket, and then they just lie like that, legs entangled, Jensen gently stroking Chris’s hair while Chris cries Jensen’s throat wet, and himself, finally, to sleep.
He dreams he’s on stage, guitar in his lap and bright lights in his face. Steve is grinning at him from across the room while Jared and Jensen slow dance to the music. He sips his beer and sings into the mic, the spotlights warming him up like a bonfire.
fin