That's how you love me
A/N: This is a small gift for my very dear friend, disneymagics, who's going through a quite intense Chris Kane phase ;-). It's not much. Hope you'll like it, baby.
Title:That's how you love me
Pairing:Jensen Ackles/Christian Kane
Summary:Just a tender sexy night between Chris and his boy.
Word Count:2500
Warnings:NC-17 for language and sex. This is a PWP. Jensen is 21 in this, Chris is 30.
Disclaimer:All lies.
Thanks:To firesign10 for the most excellent beta work. I had to find someone to work on this since it's a gift for my usual beta reader and friend, disneymagics and I was very lucky to have firesign10 agreeing to do this.
That’s how you love me
It doesn’t happen often, but it has the same effect every single time. Christian sips his beer while he tries not to jump onto the stage and take his boy away from them all, the crowd that stares at him while his fingers run on the guitar and his low-key, sexy voice sings about friends and booze and fighting the good fight.
“He’s so freaking good,” Steve whispers in Christian’s ear. “He should totally try to make a career of it.”
“He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t like to be the center of attention,” Christian states. He knows Jensen, knows the insecurities that plague him and knows how awkward he feels on stage. He still does it, though, giving in when people insist so much he gets all red in the face and searches Christian’s eyes for approval, for the reassurance that Chris will be there, watching over him.
Jensen ends the song and lowers his eyes under the crowd’s loud praises. Christian can feel how adamant his boy is to leave the stage and disappear from the burning light of the projectors.
Chris makes his way backstage, cutting right through the middle of the crowd without effort because he is kind of imposing. He knows he is. When that strength is needed, he doesn’t have any scruples about using it to his advantage. And right now, he wants to be with Jensen.
There he is, taking off the guitar strap and handing the instrument over to one of the technicians. The talent nights at the bar are always a big success. There are people everywhere, and it’s crowded backstage as it is on the audience side. Jensen is sweating, his short blond hair dressed in messy spikes, his black tee clinging to his slim body. He smiles at Gen who congratulates him. His chest is heaving with exertion, his hands are shaking a little. It happens every time he performs like this: the rush of adrenaline and the nervousness are so sudden and intense they leave him exhausted.
Jensen catches a glimpse of Christian coming toward him and a relieved smile appears on his face, his big green eyes locking with his boyfriend’s and expressing a thousand things simultaneously.
God, Christian loves him. Can’t even imagine a life where Jensen wouldn’t be by his side without feeling this huge pressure on his chest.
“You did good,” he says, raising his voice over the general noise.
“Of course he did, he always does,” Chad says, handing a beer to Jensen.
Jensen drinks, swigging the beer down too fast. It’s already his third beer of the night -enough to have him on the verge of drunkenness, which makes him slow and easy and so affectionate with everyone.
Christian wants him all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, but that’s the way it is.
He turns toward Matt, who’s just left the stage after introducing another performer. Matt pats him on the back, excited as a little kid. He’s the co-owner of the bar with Chris, mostly because he’s good with numbers, which Christian is definitely not. They get along well despite their differences. There is an underlying trust between them.
“This is going to be the most profitable night of the month. Enough so that we can finally get those renovations going.”
Christian nods without turning his eyes away from Jensen, who’s almost done with his beer, only half listening to Chad’s irritating voice. Jensen is still looking at Chris as well.
“You mind me going home now?” Christian asks Matt. “You and Steve can manage, right?”
“Of course we can. I think your boyfriend is spent.”
“He is.”
Jensen is twenty one years old, ten years younger than Christian. Since they started going out together, a little more than one year ago, Christian has made a point of not taking shit from anyone -even his closest friends - about the age difference, or the fact that his priorities have completely changed. He’s never been the committed relationship kind of guy before. But before was another life, a life Jensen wasn’t a part of.
He takes the few steps that still separate him from his boy and wraps a hand around his slim waist. Jensen immediately relaxes under the touch.
“You were great, babe,” he murmurs in his ear. “Ready to head back home?”
“God, yes,” Jensen replies, letting his head rest on Christian’s shoulder.
And just like that, Christian feels whole again.
::: :::
Jensen is all mellow and sleepy when they get back to their apartment. He lets the older man guide him to the living room, and all but collapses on the couch, smiling brightly at him.
“I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Nothing alcoholic for me, I think I’m a little drunk,” Jensen warns, Texas accent thick in his slurred words.
“You think?” Christian mocks, disappearing in the kitchen to grab two bottles of water
.
When he comes back, Jensen is in the process of pulling his t-shirt off, both of his arms tangled in the short sleeves and his head hidden by the fabric. Christian smiles indulgently and tugs on the shirt, bursting out laughing when he finally sees his boyfriend’s reddened face and the goofy smile brightening his face.
“What are you doing?”
“I stink,” Jensen explains, falling back on the couch.
It doesn’t happen often that he’s this relaxed and Chris is just happy for him, besides being crazy in love and horny as hell. The combination of the alcohol, his performance, plus the end of his finals two days before, is probably what gives Jensen the ability to let go of all the stress. He’s about to graduate in marine biology, and he’s been working himself to the point of exhaustion this last semester.
“You don’t stink,” Christian hands him the bottle of water and sits beside him, shoving his face in the crook of Jensen’s white, delicate neck and breathing in deeply Jensen's unique smell, feeling the fine, curling strands of hair at the base of his skull tickling his cheek.
“I wasn’t that bad,” Jensen says quietly.
“What? You talkin’ about the song you did on stage? You were fantastic, Jen, baby.”
Jensen shrugs. “I hate when Chad gets the crowd going like that.”
“I know, I’ll talk with him. He’s an ass. Doesn’t know when to stop.”
“Come on, he’s not that bad.”
Chris shakes his head softly and grabs Jensen’s chin between his index and his thumb to force him to look Christian in the eyes. “You’re too kind. Man, sometimes I’m scared the world will swallow you whole if I’m not there to watch out for you.”
“You do know that I managed to survive twenty years without you, right?” Jensen closes his water bottle and throws it on the floor without looking. He has this particular voice tone that manages to be playful and shy at the same time, this tone that gets Christian’s blood running to his nether regions.
Jensen moves to sit on Christian’s lap, facing him, and bends his head down to kiss him. It's just a quick touching of the lips. “I don’t want to anymore, though,” he adds, pupils blown, shaken by a soft shiver.
“You better, ‘cause I ain’t letting you go.”
“Wanna sing just for you, love when we play together,” Jensen purrs.
He leaves a trail of kisses on the side of Chris’s neck, then starts tugging on his tee. “Come on,” he pleads when Chris doesn’t make a single movement to help him.
“Okay, alright,” Chris complies because he’s already hard and damn, it doesn’t happen often enough that Jensen initiates things. “Wanna move to the bedroom?”
“Nah, too far. Come on, Chris. Want you to…” Jensen blushes and bites his lips.
“What? What do you want me to do to you, baby?”
“The thing… the thing you did the other day, when we came back from the restaurant,” Jensen mumbles, lowering his eyes, long eyelashes batting against pale skin.
“Oh, that,” Chris jokes like he suddenly remembers.
It doesn’t take long for the both of them to strip off their clothes. Chris asks Jensen to lie on his stomach, on the couch and sits at the end between his lover’s parted legs. Jensen is already aroused, pushing his hips softly against the cushions to try and get some friction. Chris takes a moment to caress his back and the perfect pale globes of his ass, marveling at the fact that he gets to have this, to look and kiss every freckle, every centimeter of creamy skin, to touch Jensen in his most intimate places until he makes him scream from pleasure. It's not old after one year. It will never get old.
He bends down and bites gently, one butt cheek and then the other, making Jensen moan.
“Chris, I need…” he pleads, giving another push of his hips. “Please, stop teasing.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll take such good care of you.”
Chris parts Jensen’s ass cheeks to expose his pink, puckered hole. It looks so tight and delicate, clamping on itself when it comes in contact with the cool air. No more teasing. Chris hasn’t even touched himself but his cock is heavy and hot between his legs, his balls already drawing up. He wets three of his fingers with saliva and rubs then all over Jensen’s hole without even trying to push in. Jensen let his right leg fall off the couch, exposing himself as much as he can. It only takes a few seconds before he starts moaning loudly, not even trying to be quiet.
The other night, Chris made him come just by rubbing his asshole. Jensen came so hard he actually cried, two big tears rolling down his cheeks as he was struck by pleasure and unable to come down from it. What a sight it had been.
Chris rubs the pucker with concentration, admiring the way it constricts and relaxes in a faster and faster rhythm. Jensen is now rubbing off on the couch with intent, letting out a string of punched-out “oh’s” and pushing back against Chris' fingers.
“Harder,” he chokes.
“Yeah, baby.”
Christian pushes and rubs and pinches, starting to stroke himself with his free hand. His dick is sticky with precome, almost painfully hard. Each little touch is like an electric shock. Without moving his fingers away from Jensen’s hole, Chris kneels up and lies down over his lover, relishing in the warmth and dampness of his skin, his quick breathing rhythm, twisting his head so that Chris can kiss his cheek, suck on his earlobe.
“Chris,” Jensen murmurs, shaking all over.
“Yeah, that’s it, Jen. Let me try something, alright?”
“Anything you fucking want, but please I need to come.”
“Gonna feel good. I promise.”
Chris withdraws his fingers from Jensen’s ass cheeks and part parts them with his hand, positioning his cock so that it’s trapped in between, gliding easily because of the saliva, the precome and the sweat. He’s never been a fan of frottage or intercrural sex but with Jensen, everything is good, everything is fucking perfect. His cockhead catches at Jensen’s swollen rim and they both start panting.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, that’s…” Jensen babbles while Chris pick picks up the rhythm. The younger man slides a hand underneath him to grab his dick, and for one second Chris wants to bat it away, tell him he can come just like that. Then Jensen's humping the couch, his ass pressing squeezing Chris' shaft, wiping his of any idea about stopping him. Instead, Chris rides his boyfriend with quick, stuttering short motions, coaxing him with soft commands. “That’s it, baby, that’s it, you’re doing so good. You like it like that? Like my dick rubbing against your ass?”
“Yuh-yeah,” Jensen stutters, face pressed against the couch. “M’close.”
“You’re gonna come, right? Do it, Jen, want you to. Gonna come so hard for me. Just for me.”
“Huh!” Jensen cries, already losing his rhythm. “Yeah… for you…”
It doesn’t take long after that. Jensen lifts his head and practically screams his release, his body tensing so hard it sucks Chris’s orgasm right out of his dick. Chris doesn’t let his pleasure blind him completely. Seeing Jensen, feeling Jensen as he orgasms always intensifies his own climax. He watches as his lover convulses and whimpers, shakes violently with an aftershock until he starts to relax, his chest heaving with exhaustion. Chris realizes with surprise that he’s still groaning, long and low, pressing himself as close as he can against Jensen’s body.
They remain like this for a long time, just catching their breath, Chris careful not to crush Jensen’s body with his own, murmuring filthy love promises in his ear. When he sees goosebumps appearing on Jensen’s folded arms, he slowly gets up, provoking a displeased moan from his lover.
“Cold,” Jensen mumbles.
“I know. I’ll be back soon.”
This is the part Christian loves best -taking care of his boy. He knows on a purely intellectual level that he doesn’t have to, that Jensen can very well care for himself, in every aspect of his life, but Chris' guts are adamant that this needs to be done. Jensen was surprised at the beginning of their relationship by how eager Chris was to protect and look out for him. He used to fight it. Not any more. One day, Chris had asked why, and Jensen had looked at him with his bright green eyes. “Because that’s how you love me. That’s how much. You’re not controlling. You’re just… You’re my shield against the rest of the world. How can I blame you for that?”
Chris wets a towel with warm water and gets back returns to the living room. He takes his time and washes Jensen. “Turn on your side,” he coaxes.
Jensen groans like a reluctant child but does it, showing his sleepy, satisfied features to Chris. Chris hurries to wash his belly and groin, now that the towel has started to cool down. When he’s done, he sees Jensen shivering and grabs the blanket they keep under the couch, covering him with it. Jensen smiles, blinks slowly at him.
“No way I’m leaving this couch.”
“You’ll be much more comfortable in our bed, you lazy ass,” Chris replies as Jensen yawns so wide his jaw snaps.
“Nuh-hun, too tired,” Jensen mumbles.
“Right.”
Chris leaves him be while he put on some boxer briefs and a tee, then turns down the king size bed in their room. When he comes back, Jensen’s mouth is hanging open, his eyelids heavy and his gaze unfocussed.
“Told you I don’ wanna-“ he starts, then yelps when Chris manhandles him on the couch until he can pick Jensen up, bridal style. Jensen’s eyes are huge. He wraps his arm around Chris’ neck and holds on for dear life. “You’re gonna drop me,” he protests. “I can walk by myself.”
“You just said you couldn’t,” Chris says casually, making his way to their bedroom.
“Chris-”
“Here we are,” Chris cuts him softly, bending over the bed, keeping his balance with one knee as he sets Jensen down. “And, for the record? I would never drop you.”
Jensen doesn’t let go of his grip around Chris’ neck, tugging until his boyfriend is close enough to kiss, long and soft, with his swollen pink mouth.
“I know,” he whispers afterward, voice a bit gruff. “I know.”
FIN
--- ---
Title:That's how you love me
Pairing:Jensen Ackles/Christian Kane
Summary:Just a tender sexy night between Chris and his boy.
Word Count:2500
Warnings:NC-17 for language and sex. This is a PWP. Jensen is 21 in this, Chris is 30.
Disclaimer:All lies.
Thanks:To firesign10 for the most excellent beta work. I had to find someone to work on this since it's a gift for my usual beta reader and friend, disneymagics and I was very lucky to have firesign10 agreeing to do this.
That’s how you love me
It doesn’t happen often, but it has the same effect every single time. Christian sips his beer while he tries not to jump onto the stage and take his boy away from them all, the crowd that stares at him while his fingers run on the guitar and his low-key, sexy voice sings about friends and booze and fighting the good fight.
“He’s so freaking good,” Steve whispers in Christian’s ear. “He should totally try to make a career of it.”
“He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t like to be the center of attention,” Christian states. He knows Jensen, knows the insecurities that plague him and knows how awkward he feels on stage. He still does it, though, giving in when people insist so much he gets all red in the face and searches Christian’s eyes for approval, for the reassurance that Chris will be there, watching over him.
Jensen ends the song and lowers his eyes under the crowd’s loud praises. Christian can feel how adamant his boy is to leave the stage and disappear from the burning light of the projectors.
Chris makes his way backstage, cutting right through the middle of the crowd without effort because he is kind of imposing. He knows he is. When that strength is needed, he doesn’t have any scruples about using it to his advantage. And right now, he wants to be with Jensen.
There he is, taking off the guitar strap and handing the instrument over to one of the technicians. The talent nights at the bar are always a big success. There are people everywhere, and it’s crowded backstage as it is on the audience side. Jensen is sweating, his short blond hair dressed in messy spikes, his black tee clinging to his slim body. He smiles at Gen who congratulates him. His chest is heaving with exertion, his hands are shaking a little. It happens every time he performs like this: the rush of adrenaline and the nervousness are so sudden and intense they leave him exhausted.
Jensen catches a glimpse of Christian coming toward him and a relieved smile appears on his face, his big green eyes locking with his boyfriend’s and expressing a thousand things simultaneously.
God, Christian loves him. Can’t even imagine a life where Jensen wouldn’t be by his side without feeling this huge pressure on his chest.
“You did good,” he says, raising his voice over the general noise.
“Of course he did, he always does,” Chad says, handing a beer to Jensen.
Jensen drinks, swigging the beer down too fast. It’s already his third beer of the night -enough to have him on the verge of drunkenness, which makes him slow and easy and so affectionate with everyone.
Christian wants him all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, but that’s the way it is.
He turns toward Matt, who’s just left the stage after introducing another performer. Matt pats him on the back, excited as a little kid. He’s the co-owner of the bar with Chris, mostly because he’s good with numbers, which Christian is definitely not. They get along well despite their differences. There is an underlying trust between them.
“This is going to be the most profitable night of the month. Enough so that we can finally get those renovations going.”
Christian nods without turning his eyes away from Jensen, who’s almost done with his beer, only half listening to Chad’s irritating voice. Jensen is still looking at Chris as well.
“You mind me going home now?” Christian asks Matt. “You and Steve can manage, right?”
“Of course we can. I think your boyfriend is spent.”
“He is.”
Jensen is twenty one years old, ten years younger than Christian. Since they started going out together, a little more than one year ago, Christian has made a point of not taking shit from anyone -even his closest friends - about the age difference, or the fact that his priorities have completely changed. He’s never been the committed relationship kind of guy before. But before was another life, a life Jensen wasn’t a part of.
He takes the few steps that still separate him from his boy and wraps a hand around his slim waist. Jensen immediately relaxes under the touch.
“You were great, babe,” he murmurs in his ear. “Ready to head back home?”
“God, yes,” Jensen replies, letting his head rest on Christian’s shoulder.
And just like that, Christian feels whole again.
::: :::
Jensen is all mellow and sleepy when they get back to their apartment. He lets the older man guide him to the living room, and all but collapses on the couch, smiling brightly at him.
“I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Nothing alcoholic for me, I think I’m a little drunk,” Jensen warns, Texas accent thick in his slurred words.
“You think?” Christian mocks, disappearing in the kitchen to grab two bottles of water
.
When he comes back, Jensen is in the process of pulling his t-shirt off, both of his arms tangled in the short sleeves and his head hidden by the fabric. Christian smiles indulgently and tugs on the shirt, bursting out laughing when he finally sees his boyfriend’s reddened face and the goofy smile brightening his face.
“What are you doing?”
“I stink,” Jensen explains, falling back on the couch.
It doesn’t happen often that he’s this relaxed and Chris is just happy for him, besides being crazy in love and horny as hell. The combination of the alcohol, his performance, plus the end of his finals two days before, is probably what gives Jensen the ability to let go of all the stress. He’s about to graduate in marine biology, and he’s been working himself to the point of exhaustion this last semester.
“You don’t stink,” Christian hands him the bottle of water and sits beside him, shoving his face in the crook of Jensen’s white, delicate neck and breathing in deeply Jensen's unique smell, feeling the fine, curling strands of hair at the base of his skull tickling his cheek.
“I wasn’t that bad,” Jensen says quietly.
“What? You talkin’ about the song you did on stage? You were fantastic, Jen, baby.”
Jensen shrugs. “I hate when Chad gets the crowd going like that.”
“I know, I’ll talk with him. He’s an ass. Doesn’t know when to stop.”
“Come on, he’s not that bad.”
Chris shakes his head softly and grabs Jensen’s chin between his index and his thumb to force him to look Christian in the eyes. “You’re too kind. Man, sometimes I’m scared the world will swallow you whole if I’m not there to watch out for you.”
“You do know that I managed to survive twenty years without you, right?” Jensen closes his water bottle and throws it on the floor without looking. He has this particular voice tone that manages to be playful and shy at the same time, this tone that gets Christian’s blood running to his nether regions.
Jensen moves to sit on Christian’s lap, facing him, and bends his head down to kiss him. It's just a quick touching of the lips. “I don’t want to anymore, though,” he adds, pupils blown, shaken by a soft shiver.
“You better, ‘cause I ain’t letting you go.”
“Wanna sing just for you, love when we play together,” Jensen purrs.
He leaves a trail of kisses on the side of Chris’s neck, then starts tugging on his tee. “Come on,” he pleads when Chris doesn’t make a single movement to help him.
“Okay, alright,” Chris complies because he’s already hard and damn, it doesn’t happen often enough that Jensen initiates things. “Wanna move to the bedroom?”
“Nah, too far. Come on, Chris. Want you to…” Jensen blushes and bites his lips.
“What? What do you want me to do to you, baby?”
“The thing… the thing you did the other day, when we came back from the restaurant,” Jensen mumbles, lowering his eyes, long eyelashes batting against pale skin.
“Oh, that,” Chris jokes like he suddenly remembers.
It doesn’t take long for the both of them to strip off their clothes. Chris asks Jensen to lie on his stomach, on the couch and sits at the end between his lover’s parted legs. Jensen is already aroused, pushing his hips softly against the cushions to try and get some friction. Chris takes a moment to caress his back and the perfect pale globes of his ass, marveling at the fact that he gets to have this, to look and kiss every freckle, every centimeter of creamy skin, to touch Jensen in his most intimate places until he makes him scream from pleasure. It's not old after one year. It will never get old.
He bends down and bites gently, one butt cheek and then the other, making Jensen moan.
“Chris, I need…” he pleads, giving another push of his hips. “Please, stop teasing.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll take such good care of you.”
Chris parts Jensen’s ass cheeks to expose his pink, puckered hole. It looks so tight and delicate, clamping on itself when it comes in contact with the cool air. No more teasing. Chris hasn’t even touched himself but his cock is heavy and hot between his legs, his balls already drawing up. He wets three of his fingers with saliva and rubs then all over Jensen’s hole without even trying to push in. Jensen let his right leg fall off the couch, exposing himself as much as he can. It only takes a few seconds before he starts moaning loudly, not even trying to be quiet.
The other night, Chris made him come just by rubbing his asshole. Jensen came so hard he actually cried, two big tears rolling down his cheeks as he was struck by pleasure and unable to come down from it. What a sight it had been.
Chris rubs the pucker with concentration, admiring the way it constricts and relaxes in a faster and faster rhythm. Jensen is now rubbing off on the couch with intent, letting out a string of punched-out “oh’s” and pushing back against Chris' fingers.
“Harder,” he chokes.
“Yeah, baby.”
Christian pushes and rubs and pinches, starting to stroke himself with his free hand. His dick is sticky with precome, almost painfully hard. Each little touch is like an electric shock. Without moving his fingers away from Jensen’s hole, Chris kneels up and lies down over his lover, relishing in the warmth and dampness of his skin, his quick breathing rhythm, twisting his head so that Chris can kiss his cheek, suck on his earlobe.
“Chris,” Jensen murmurs, shaking all over.
“Yeah, that’s it, Jen. Let me try something, alright?”
“Anything you fucking want, but please I need to come.”
“Gonna feel good. I promise.”
Chris withdraws his fingers from Jensen’s ass cheeks and part parts them with his hand, positioning his cock so that it’s trapped in between, gliding easily because of the saliva, the precome and the sweat. He’s never been a fan of frottage or intercrural sex but with Jensen, everything is good, everything is fucking perfect. His cockhead catches at Jensen’s swollen rim and they both start panting.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, that’s…” Jensen babbles while Chris pick picks up the rhythm. The younger man slides a hand underneath him to grab his dick, and for one second Chris wants to bat it away, tell him he can come just like that. Then Jensen's humping the couch, his ass pressing squeezing Chris' shaft, wiping his of any idea about stopping him. Instead, Chris rides his boyfriend with quick, stuttering short motions, coaxing him with soft commands. “That’s it, baby, that’s it, you’re doing so good. You like it like that? Like my dick rubbing against your ass?”
“Yuh-yeah,” Jensen stutters, face pressed against the couch. “M’close.”
“You’re gonna come, right? Do it, Jen, want you to. Gonna come so hard for me. Just for me.”
“Huh!” Jensen cries, already losing his rhythm. “Yeah… for you…”
It doesn’t take long after that. Jensen lifts his head and practically screams his release, his body tensing so hard it sucks Chris’s orgasm right out of his dick. Chris doesn’t let his pleasure blind him completely. Seeing Jensen, feeling Jensen as he orgasms always intensifies his own climax. He watches as his lover convulses and whimpers, shakes violently with an aftershock until he starts to relax, his chest heaving with exhaustion. Chris realizes with surprise that he’s still groaning, long and low, pressing himself as close as he can against Jensen’s body.
They remain like this for a long time, just catching their breath, Chris careful not to crush Jensen’s body with his own, murmuring filthy love promises in his ear. When he sees goosebumps appearing on Jensen’s folded arms, he slowly gets up, provoking a displeased moan from his lover.
“Cold,” Jensen mumbles.
“I know. I’ll be back soon.”
This is the part Christian loves best -taking care of his boy. He knows on a purely intellectual level that he doesn’t have to, that Jensen can very well care for himself, in every aspect of his life, but Chris' guts are adamant that this needs to be done. Jensen was surprised at the beginning of their relationship by how eager Chris was to protect and look out for him. He used to fight it. Not any more. One day, Chris had asked why, and Jensen had looked at him with his bright green eyes. “Because that’s how you love me. That’s how much. You’re not controlling. You’re just… You’re my shield against the rest of the world. How can I blame you for that?”
Chris wets a towel with warm water and gets back returns to the living room. He takes his time and washes Jensen. “Turn on your side,” he coaxes.
Jensen groans like a reluctant child but does it, showing his sleepy, satisfied features to Chris. Chris hurries to wash his belly and groin, now that the towel has started to cool down. When he’s done, he sees Jensen shivering and grabs the blanket they keep under the couch, covering him with it. Jensen smiles, blinks slowly at him.
“No way I’m leaving this couch.”
“You’ll be much more comfortable in our bed, you lazy ass,” Chris replies as Jensen yawns so wide his jaw snaps.
“Nuh-hun, too tired,” Jensen mumbles.
“Right.”
Chris leaves him be while he put on some boxer briefs and a tee, then turns down the king size bed in their room. When he comes back, Jensen’s mouth is hanging open, his eyelids heavy and his gaze unfocussed.
“Told you I don’ wanna-“ he starts, then yelps when Chris manhandles him on the couch until he can pick Jensen up, bridal style. Jensen’s eyes are huge. He wraps his arm around Chris’ neck and holds on for dear life. “You’re gonna drop me,” he protests. “I can walk by myself.”
“You just said you couldn’t,” Chris says casually, making his way to their bedroom.
“Chris-”
“Here we are,” Chris cuts him softly, bending over the bed, keeping his balance with one knee as he sets Jensen down. “And, for the record? I would never drop you.”
Jensen doesn’t let go of his grip around Chris’ neck, tugging until his boyfriend is close enough to kiss, long and soft, with his swollen pink mouth.
“I know,” he whispers afterward, voice a bit gruff. “I know.”
FIN
--- ---