Fic: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan 'For Want of a Word (The Collar was Lost)'
Title: For Want of a Word (The Collar was Lost)
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/ Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Kinks/Warnings: a/b/o, biting, excessive niceness
Length: 2983 words
Summary: Sequel (can standalone) to ‘In Spite of Himself.’ Six months after Jeff and Jensen admit what they feel, the tricky subject of collaring comes up. It’s traditional for formal events, and Jensen is torn between doing it for Jeff, and sticking to his guns. Jeff solves the problem easily.
While pretty much since the day Jeff had moved next door, Jensen had had occasional wistful thoughts about him, he’d never thought that if they got together it’d be like this. So...so low key. When he’d been internally poking at the idea of how far he’d go, how much he’d give up, how much of himself he’d be willing to lose for the possibility of being with him, it had been dramatic, big stakes, his last chance to change himself for a snatch at happiness (or so the soaps would have it.) He’d tried it, trialed being a good Omega of the kind he hadn’t ever attempted to be before, and known instantly, dismally that it wouldn’t work out. Not even for someone like Jeff, who made him laugh, who cooked him food, who made him internally quiver when he smelt that deep, warm welcoming scent that matched up so well with everything about him.
In a million years he’d never have thought about gaining anything from it. That wasn’t the way it worked. The Omegas he knew in relationships with Alphas were happy and fulfilled from making sure their Alphas were happy and fulfilled, they didn’t want or need more. Everybody was content like that.
Which is why being with Jeff was confusing to say the least. Jensen had uncomfortably realised that he kept throwing up barriers against things that weren’t happening, assuming the worst from every shitty relationship he’d had before, being exactly the same mouthy, disrespectful independent Omega he’d been before this but dialled up to eleven, and Jeff took it all calmly, treated him like this was normal as though Jensen had some sort of right to act this way, teased him about it when Jensen got particularly argumentative, shut him up with kisses or coffee, read his work files and suggested revisions, asked Jensen for his ideas for his own work, and it was messing with Jensen’s head.
Some part of him he ruefully acknowledged was waiting for the other shoe to drop, the moment when Jeff like every other Alpha he’d ever known would try and force him into a set box, give him his first collar, leash him up good and tight and have him kneeling. Most of him was already certain it wouldn’t happen, that Jeff was nothing like Danielle, Anthony, Frank or any of the other jerks who’d flitted into his life from when he was sixteen, but a small stubborn bit of him held back, whispered a warning, reminded him to keep something in reserve in case this went to shit.
Jeff had been the one to insist on their keeping their separate houses until they were more official, until Jensen wanted to live with someone, didn’t feel like he was sacrificing his space. In his bones, however shitty it made him feel Jensen wasn’t sure that day would come, this house was more than just a house, it was the living symbol of everything he’d lived and worked for- an unbonded omega in a decent neighbourhood in a house bought from money earned, not inherited or married.
Currently though even the house couldn’t comfort him, as he sat staring glumly at the invitation Jeff had thrown like a frisbee at him. “Kirsty Fenwich and Michelle Cheung cordially request the pleasure of Mr Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s company on the occasion of their bonding,” he read out to Jeff who was chopping onions in the kitchen. “Sounds pretty formal.”
Jeff grinned. “It is. They’re big on the bits and pieces, expect colour co-ordination to the max. I suggest we wear matching ties in green. That way at least we’ll definitely match the flowers,” he hesitated looking worried for a split second. “If you don’t want to go that’s not a problem, I can head there alone,” he offered.
Jensen’s head snapped up. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to actually,” he said easily. Some people were funny about those who took their time bonding. It was supposed to be this magical instantaneous thing, you had sex and knew you wanted to bond legally, despite knowing it was mostly a matter of biological chemistry and innate compatibility. To those who took that viewpoint, six months was more than enough time to be talking permanence in the eyes of the law as well as the body. If they knew he hadn’t even had sex with Jeff while in heat yet, there’d be some raised eyebrows even. And deeper inside him was the uncomfortable thought that a bonding was serious business, formal, the sort of thing that if he was Jeff’s +1 he should really be wearing a collar to.
With a snort, Jeff dumped the onions in the frying pan. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said drily. “You’re the only thing that’ll make it bearable. I insist on you coming, if you’re not dead set against it.”
After a second’s hesitation Jensen grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said playfully, standing to grab a couple of plates and forks. “The chance to see you all dolled up in a penguin outfit will make my week.”
“You see me in a suit nearly every day,” Jeff objected, concentrating on the food.
“Yeah, but not like this. I bet you go the whole hog, little posy of flowers, top hat, the works,” he teased, rummaging through the cupboards for a couple of glasses.
“Top hat? What century are you living in again?” was the amused reply, as Jeff came up behind Jensen, arm sliding around him as he reached for the black pepper, and Jensen almost stopped breathing. It was strange feeling this teenagerish all of the time. They’d been together for almost six months now, and every time Jeff touched him he still lit up, had to stop himself from just jumping the other man all of the time, because otherwise neither of them would get anything done. Like always Jeff seemed to sense how he felt, pushed a little closer until Jensen was right up against the counter, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“After dinner?” he said, and Jensen nodded.
Jeff went back to the pan, and Jensen found the glasses and set them on the table, watching as Jeff cooked. The stiff card of the invitation caught his eye again, the polite addendum for Jeff’s +1 bringing back the dilemma in a rush. Even now, not wearing a collar was a breach of etiquette. Alphas didn’t actually own Omegas anymore, it was nothing more than a remnant of an old tradition- he knew that logically, but still rebelled from the idea in distaste. He knew people who were traditional enough that they kept the leash attached (though it was a breach of etiquette in itself for an Alpha ever to touch leash or collar in public,) and he knew a few people who substituted it for something else, but no-one who’d given up wearing it entirely. If nothing else it served as an easy way to tell if someone was free or not.
He thanked his lucky stars most of the old ways were dying off a little now, thirty years ago he would have been debating kneeling on the floor beside his partner, and getting fed from his hand, now only the most rigid of A/O pairings insisted on that. A cold tingle of humiliation ran through him as he remembered Anthony, his hand pressing at the base of his neck, guiding Jensen to sit on the ground instead of the sofa the first time they’d met his parents. He’d first asked, then begged. ‘For me baby. They’re so traditional, I just want you to make a good impression.’ He’d almost done it just to save face, but couldn’t, had sat there in burning silence with Anthony’s mother gazing a silent reproach at his bad manners from where she knelt beside her husband.
That’d been the cause of one of the breakups Jeff had been there for, though he’d never told him why. Anthony’s cold furious anger had been particularly vicious, and with the skill of the disappointed he’d lashed out as hurtfully as he could, and towards the end of it Jensen had just wanted to curl up into a ball and beg the other man to stop shouting at him. His pride had kept him going, but it’d been little enough.
With a sudden start he looked up. There was food in front of him and Jeff giving him a concerned look. “You were a million miles away. You sure you’re okay?”
He smiled with an effort. “Just got caught up in thinking,” he said, and picked up his fork.
Jeff raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it, just applied himself to his own food, letting a companionable silence fall as they ate. Jensen finished his last forkful of food and drained a half glass of wine to give himself courage, before excusing himself to slip upstairs. He needed to see something.
The collar and leash were detachable from each other, and letting the leash coil back into the box, he picked up the collar and ran it through his fingers, feeling the silky smoothness of it. Good quality supple leather, bought for him on his eighteenth birthday by his parents, a traditional gift to mark his passing from the infatuations of his Omega teenage years, to the pursuit of his bonded mate. You wore it on special occasions before the bonding, and always after it, a tangible sign that you were taken. He dropped it back in the box with a sigh. Things were never simple.
Most of him felt exactly the same as he always had before this, horrified at the physical idea of a collar, burning with indignation at the implicit meaning, but now there was a bit that wanted Jeff to see him like this, wanted to do this for Jeff.
He wasn’t surprised when he heard Jeff knock at the door, and he didn’t cover the box. No point hiding this. “Come in,” he said. Jeff crossed the room to stand beside him and look at the box. Jensen glanced sharply at him but there was no visible change of expression, instead his arms slid around Jensen, offering the same warmth and comfort that he always did, and at that touch Jensen’s fears fled. The idea of this man hurting him, of forcing him to do anything was ludicrous. With little mental effort he shoved away the last of his reservations, the last of his barriers, the bits of him that distrusted Jeff just because he was an Alpha, and let himself lean backwards into that touch.
“The bonding?” asked Jeff noncommittally. Jensen nodded. Jeff picked up the collar and twirled it with idle fingers, then raised the hand holding it to Jensen’s neck, tilting it sidewards. Jensen held his breath and closed his eyes, resigned to letting Jeff lead the way with this for once. The shock of the warmth of Jeff’s mouth on the cool skin of his throat made him gasp and open his eyes, as Jeff kissed the vein that ran down the side of it, bit softly at the flesh, sucking lightly, sending shivers of sensation through Jensen, sharp tingles that centred in his spine, and radiated outwards sensitizing the whole of his body. Jeff’s rough voice on his skin, the sharp scratch of Jeff’s hair, the other hard hand gripping his hip, made his knees go weak, sent a wave of shocking lust crashing through him, enough that he could barely understand the words Jeff was saying.
“Wear it if you want, don’t if you don’t. I don’t give a shit about the collar Jensen, I care about what’s underneath it. I can’t bite your collar and feel this,” and he emphasised his words with a sharp little nip that sent sparks of pain fluttering through Jensen, “if you wearing the collar, means I lose what we have then burn the damn thing. I want you to want me as badly as you can, as much as I want you every second, and you being unhappy isn’t part of that, it isn’t ever acceptable sweetheart.” The rough endearment did as much to break Jensen as anything else, and he found himself wanting to rest, wanting Jeff to take up the burden of the line he walked for him, and with a sigh he yielded; not completely since that was neither his nature, nor what Jeff wanted, but enough, enough to show Jeff how much he trusted him.
He let Jeff take him to the bed, helped with trembling hands to strip them both, laughing at the ridiculous mess they made of it, until they could tumble back against the pillows, all laughter gone as Jeff kissed him properly, deeply and warmly, taking the time to learn him, enticing Jensen into kissing him back, hand strong on the back of his neck. He was keyed up almost beyond belief already, had been since they’d touched before dinner, on the edge from how much this made him feel, and Jeff got that, kissed down his stomach, hands firm on his hips now, holding him down easily as Jensen bucked up, thumbs sliding down the inside curve of his hips, ticklish as with no ceremony, no warning he took Jensen in, sucking at him hard indulging in one of his favourite things to do, the naughty forbiddenness of it working for them both; Jeff getting off on how good it made Jensen feel. This was something he knew no-one else had ever done for him, they’d never given him this brand of pleasure, never made him squirm, fingers tangled in hair, helpless tiny movements communicated through his hips, until he could barely speak. Jeff grinned, communicating his thoughts clearly. Fuckers didn’t know what they were missing.
He pulled off, wiping his hand across his mouth, looking down at Jensen who was boneless now, sprawled across the bed, cock hard and red and wet from Jeff’s mouth, and the whole of him perfect. “Turn over,” he said, and Jensen willingly shifted onto his front, arching his back a little, setting his legs apart for ease of balance, letting Jeff slide two fingers wet with lube he’d secured from the bedside cabinet up from his cock, over his balls until they reached his hole, a little wet and open already from the excitement, sliding in so easily, so softly, they both caught their breath. A long shiver ran down Jensen’s spine, and Jeff felt the last tremor of it as Jensen shifted to spread his legs wider in an implicit invitation.
There was a time for foreplay and a time for fucking, and this was clearly the latter, Jensen was close to the edge already, felt like he had been for an hour, muscles taut from holding himself up. Jeff put an end to the tortuous anticipation they shared, sliding in long and slowly, inch after relentless inch, until he was fully in, and Jensen was writhing back against him, breaths slow and shaky as though he was gasping for air, as though the discarded collar was constricting his throat. Jeff paused for a moment, let his thumbs grip Jensen’s hips before he began deliberately fucking him, as regulated as a machine relishing every sound that Jensen made, almost overwhelmed himself by just how good it felt, how right to be with Jensen. It didn't last long, Jensen too wound tight, Jeff overwhelmed by need, coming first inside Jensen, pressing as deep as he could, feeling the other man arch backwards against him as though urging him to stay, to keep fucking him through this. Jeff obliged, fucking Jensen through his orgasm, until he shuddered and came himself, caught between the Alpha hormones and the deep ache of pleasure inside him, neither of them generally enough to see him through alone, but the combination sent him over the edge.
They lay together quietly, skin against skin, neither speaking for a long time. Eventually Jensen shifted, turning to press a kiss to Jeff's mouth. Jeff returned it almost chastely, enjoying the warmth and the nearness. "Do you want to wear the collar to Michelle and Kirsty's bonding?" he asked, seeing the collar on the pillow beside them. He left the question deliberately neutral, this was Jensen's choice.
Jensen took his time answering, his thoughts racing, weighing up all the reasons for and against it, until Jeff's calmness along the length of his body reminded him that this wasn't the end of the world. "No," he replied, a little surprised at how firm he sounded. "I don't want to," and felt a great weight lift from him, as though the last of the expectations he'd been dragging around with him had vanished, the last of the arguments he always had to have to justify himself had evaporated. He was rewarded with a brush along his arm, and he smiled into the semi-darkness his spirit light. The thought of a formal ceremony, meeting Jeff's friends, having to face people staring at his bare neck had pretty much lost its terror, and when he went to brush his teeth and wash off he stared at the medicine cabinet, taking his birth control absently mindedly, and leaving the heat suppressants untouched. It wouldn't hurt to share one with Jeff.
Fandom: Supernatural RPF
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/ Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Kinks/Warnings: a/b/o, biting, excessive niceness
Length: 2983 words
Summary: Sequel (can standalone) to ‘In Spite of Himself.’ Six months after Jeff and Jensen admit what they feel, the tricky subject of collaring comes up. It’s traditional for formal events, and Jensen is torn between doing it for Jeff, and sticking to his guns. Jeff solves the problem easily.
While pretty much since the day Jeff had moved next door, Jensen had had occasional wistful thoughts about him, he’d never thought that if they got together it’d be like this. So...so low key. When he’d been internally poking at the idea of how far he’d go, how much he’d give up, how much of himself he’d be willing to lose for the possibility of being with him, it had been dramatic, big stakes, his last chance to change himself for a snatch at happiness (or so the soaps would have it.) He’d tried it, trialed being a good Omega of the kind he hadn’t ever attempted to be before, and known instantly, dismally that it wouldn’t work out. Not even for someone like Jeff, who made him laugh, who cooked him food, who made him internally quiver when he smelt that deep, warm welcoming scent that matched up so well with everything about him.
In a million years he’d never have thought about gaining anything from it. That wasn’t the way it worked. The Omegas he knew in relationships with Alphas were happy and fulfilled from making sure their Alphas were happy and fulfilled, they didn’t want or need more. Everybody was content like that.
Which is why being with Jeff was confusing to say the least. Jensen had uncomfortably realised that he kept throwing up barriers against things that weren’t happening, assuming the worst from every shitty relationship he’d had before, being exactly the same mouthy, disrespectful independent Omega he’d been before this but dialled up to eleven, and Jeff took it all calmly, treated him like this was normal as though Jensen had some sort of right to act this way, teased him about it when Jensen got particularly argumentative, shut him up with kisses or coffee, read his work files and suggested revisions, asked Jensen for his ideas for his own work, and it was messing with Jensen’s head.
Some part of him he ruefully acknowledged was waiting for the other shoe to drop, the moment when Jeff like every other Alpha he’d ever known would try and force him into a set box, give him his first collar, leash him up good and tight and have him kneeling. Most of him was already certain it wouldn’t happen, that Jeff was nothing like Danielle, Anthony, Frank or any of the other jerks who’d flitted into his life from when he was sixteen, but a small stubborn bit of him held back, whispered a warning, reminded him to keep something in reserve in case this went to shit.
Jeff had been the one to insist on their keeping their separate houses until they were more official, until Jensen wanted to live with someone, didn’t feel like he was sacrificing his space. In his bones, however shitty it made him feel Jensen wasn’t sure that day would come, this house was more than just a house, it was the living symbol of everything he’d lived and worked for- an unbonded omega in a decent neighbourhood in a house bought from money earned, not inherited or married.
Currently though even the house couldn’t comfort him, as he sat staring glumly at the invitation Jeff had thrown like a frisbee at him. “Kirsty Fenwich and Michelle Cheung cordially request the pleasure of Mr Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s company on the occasion of their bonding,” he read out to Jeff who was chopping onions in the kitchen. “Sounds pretty formal.”
Jeff grinned. “It is. They’re big on the bits and pieces, expect colour co-ordination to the max. I suggest we wear matching ties in green. That way at least we’ll definitely match the flowers,” he hesitated looking worried for a split second. “If you don’t want to go that’s not a problem, I can head there alone,” he offered.
Jensen’s head snapped up. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to actually,” he said easily. Some people were funny about those who took their time bonding. It was supposed to be this magical instantaneous thing, you had sex and knew you wanted to bond legally, despite knowing it was mostly a matter of biological chemistry and innate compatibility. To those who took that viewpoint, six months was more than enough time to be talking permanence in the eyes of the law as well as the body. If they knew he hadn’t even had sex with Jeff while in heat yet, there’d be some raised eyebrows even. And deeper inside him was the uncomfortable thought that a bonding was serious business, formal, the sort of thing that if he was Jeff’s +1 he should really be wearing a collar to.
With a snort, Jeff dumped the onions in the frying pan. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said drily. “You’re the only thing that’ll make it bearable. I insist on you coming, if you’re not dead set against it.”
After a second’s hesitation Jensen grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said playfully, standing to grab a couple of plates and forks. “The chance to see you all dolled up in a penguin outfit will make my week.”
“You see me in a suit nearly every day,” Jeff objected, concentrating on the food.
“Yeah, but not like this. I bet you go the whole hog, little posy of flowers, top hat, the works,” he teased, rummaging through the cupboards for a couple of glasses.
“Top hat? What century are you living in again?” was the amused reply, as Jeff came up behind Jensen, arm sliding around him as he reached for the black pepper, and Jensen almost stopped breathing. It was strange feeling this teenagerish all of the time. They’d been together for almost six months now, and every time Jeff touched him he still lit up, had to stop himself from just jumping the other man all of the time, because otherwise neither of them would get anything done. Like always Jeff seemed to sense how he felt, pushed a little closer until Jensen was right up against the counter, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“After dinner?” he said, and Jensen nodded.
Jeff went back to the pan, and Jensen found the glasses and set them on the table, watching as Jeff cooked. The stiff card of the invitation caught his eye again, the polite addendum for Jeff’s +1 bringing back the dilemma in a rush. Even now, not wearing a collar was a breach of etiquette. Alphas didn’t actually own Omegas anymore, it was nothing more than a remnant of an old tradition- he knew that logically, but still rebelled from the idea in distaste. He knew people who were traditional enough that they kept the leash attached (though it was a breach of etiquette in itself for an Alpha ever to touch leash or collar in public,) and he knew a few people who substituted it for something else, but no-one who’d given up wearing it entirely. If nothing else it served as an easy way to tell if someone was free or not.
He thanked his lucky stars most of the old ways were dying off a little now, thirty years ago he would have been debating kneeling on the floor beside his partner, and getting fed from his hand, now only the most rigid of A/O pairings insisted on that. A cold tingle of humiliation ran through him as he remembered Anthony, his hand pressing at the base of his neck, guiding Jensen to sit on the ground instead of the sofa the first time they’d met his parents. He’d first asked, then begged. ‘For me baby. They’re so traditional, I just want you to make a good impression.’ He’d almost done it just to save face, but couldn’t, had sat there in burning silence with Anthony’s mother gazing a silent reproach at his bad manners from where she knelt beside her husband.
That’d been the cause of one of the breakups Jeff had been there for, though he’d never told him why. Anthony’s cold furious anger had been particularly vicious, and with the skill of the disappointed he’d lashed out as hurtfully as he could, and towards the end of it Jensen had just wanted to curl up into a ball and beg the other man to stop shouting at him. His pride had kept him going, but it’d been little enough.
With a sudden start he looked up. There was food in front of him and Jeff giving him a concerned look. “You were a million miles away. You sure you’re okay?”
He smiled with an effort. “Just got caught up in thinking,” he said, and picked up his fork.
Jeff raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it, just applied himself to his own food, letting a companionable silence fall as they ate. Jensen finished his last forkful of food and drained a half glass of wine to give himself courage, before excusing himself to slip upstairs. He needed to see something.
The collar and leash were detachable from each other, and letting the leash coil back into the box, he picked up the collar and ran it through his fingers, feeling the silky smoothness of it. Good quality supple leather, bought for him on his eighteenth birthday by his parents, a traditional gift to mark his passing from the infatuations of his Omega teenage years, to the pursuit of his bonded mate. You wore it on special occasions before the bonding, and always after it, a tangible sign that you were taken. He dropped it back in the box with a sigh. Things were never simple.
Most of him felt exactly the same as he always had before this, horrified at the physical idea of a collar, burning with indignation at the implicit meaning, but now there was a bit that wanted Jeff to see him like this, wanted to do this for Jeff.
He wasn’t surprised when he heard Jeff knock at the door, and he didn’t cover the box. No point hiding this. “Come in,” he said. Jeff crossed the room to stand beside him and look at the box. Jensen glanced sharply at him but there was no visible change of expression, instead his arms slid around Jensen, offering the same warmth and comfort that he always did, and at that touch Jensen’s fears fled. The idea of this man hurting him, of forcing him to do anything was ludicrous. With little mental effort he shoved away the last of his reservations, the last of his barriers, the bits of him that distrusted Jeff just because he was an Alpha, and let himself lean backwards into that touch.
“The bonding?” asked Jeff noncommittally. Jensen nodded. Jeff picked up the collar and twirled it with idle fingers, then raised the hand holding it to Jensen’s neck, tilting it sidewards. Jensen held his breath and closed his eyes, resigned to letting Jeff lead the way with this for once. The shock of the warmth of Jeff’s mouth on the cool skin of his throat made him gasp and open his eyes, as Jeff kissed the vein that ran down the side of it, bit softly at the flesh, sucking lightly, sending shivers of sensation through Jensen, sharp tingles that centred in his spine, and radiated outwards sensitizing the whole of his body. Jeff’s rough voice on his skin, the sharp scratch of Jeff’s hair, the other hard hand gripping his hip, made his knees go weak, sent a wave of shocking lust crashing through him, enough that he could barely understand the words Jeff was saying.
“Wear it if you want, don’t if you don’t. I don’t give a shit about the collar Jensen, I care about what’s underneath it. I can’t bite your collar and feel this,” and he emphasised his words with a sharp little nip that sent sparks of pain fluttering through Jensen, “if you wearing the collar, means I lose what we have then burn the damn thing. I want you to want me as badly as you can, as much as I want you every second, and you being unhappy isn’t part of that, it isn’t ever acceptable sweetheart.” The rough endearment did as much to break Jensen as anything else, and he found himself wanting to rest, wanting Jeff to take up the burden of the line he walked for him, and with a sigh he yielded; not completely since that was neither his nature, nor what Jeff wanted, but enough, enough to show Jeff how much he trusted him.
He let Jeff take him to the bed, helped with trembling hands to strip them both, laughing at the ridiculous mess they made of it, until they could tumble back against the pillows, all laughter gone as Jeff kissed him properly, deeply and warmly, taking the time to learn him, enticing Jensen into kissing him back, hand strong on the back of his neck. He was keyed up almost beyond belief already, had been since they’d touched before dinner, on the edge from how much this made him feel, and Jeff got that, kissed down his stomach, hands firm on his hips now, holding him down easily as Jensen bucked up, thumbs sliding down the inside curve of his hips, ticklish as with no ceremony, no warning he took Jensen in, sucking at him hard indulging in one of his favourite things to do, the naughty forbiddenness of it working for them both; Jeff getting off on how good it made Jensen feel. This was something he knew no-one else had ever done for him, they’d never given him this brand of pleasure, never made him squirm, fingers tangled in hair, helpless tiny movements communicated through his hips, until he could barely speak. Jeff grinned, communicating his thoughts clearly. Fuckers didn’t know what they were missing.
He pulled off, wiping his hand across his mouth, looking down at Jensen who was boneless now, sprawled across the bed, cock hard and red and wet from Jeff’s mouth, and the whole of him perfect. “Turn over,” he said, and Jensen willingly shifted onto his front, arching his back a little, setting his legs apart for ease of balance, letting Jeff slide two fingers wet with lube he’d secured from the bedside cabinet up from his cock, over his balls until they reached his hole, a little wet and open already from the excitement, sliding in so easily, so softly, they both caught their breath. A long shiver ran down Jensen’s spine, and Jeff felt the last tremor of it as Jensen shifted to spread his legs wider in an implicit invitation.
There was a time for foreplay and a time for fucking, and this was clearly the latter, Jensen was close to the edge already, felt like he had been for an hour, muscles taut from holding himself up. Jeff put an end to the tortuous anticipation they shared, sliding in long and slowly, inch after relentless inch, until he was fully in, and Jensen was writhing back against him, breaths slow and shaky as though he was gasping for air, as though the discarded collar was constricting his throat. Jeff paused for a moment, let his thumbs grip Jensen’s hips before he began deliberately fucking him, as regulated as a machine relishing every sound that Jensen made, almost overwhelmed himself by just how good it felt, how right to be with Jensen. It didn't last long, Jensen too wound tight, Jeff overwhelmed by need, coming first inside Jensen, pressing as deep as he could, feeling the other man arch backwards against him as though urging him to stay, to keep fucking him through this. Jeff obliged, fucking Jensen through his orgasm, until he shuddered and came himself, caught between the Alpha hormones and the deep ache of pleasure inside him, neither of them generally enough to see him through alone, but the combination sent him over the edge.
They lay together quietly, skin against skin, neither speaking for a long time. Eventually Jensen shifted, turning to press a kiss to Jeff's mouth. Jeff returned it almost chastely, enjoying the warmth and the nearness. "Do you want to wear the collar to Michelle and Kirsty's bonding?" he asked, seeing the collar on the pillow beside them. He left the question deliberately neutral, this was Jensen's choice.
Jensen took his time answering, his thoughts racing, weighing up all the reasons for and against it, until Jeff's calmness along the length of his body reminded him that this wasn't the end of the world. "No," he replied, a little surprised at how firm he sounded. "I don't want to," and felt a great weight lift from him, as though the last of the expectations he'd been dragging around with him had vanished, the last of the arguments he always had to have to justify himself had evaporated. He was rewarded with a brush along his arm, and he smiled into the semi-darkness his spirit light. The thought of a formal ceremony, meeting Jeff's friends, having to face people staring at his bare neck had pretty much lost its terror, and when he went to brush his teeth and wash off he stared at the medicine cabinet, taking his birth control absently mindedly, and leaving the heat suppressants untouched. It wouldn't hurt to share one with Jeff.