FIC: And Our Lives Are One
Title: And Our Lives Are One
Author: Cassie Morgan (badfalcon)
Categories: Steve Carlson/Christian Kane, schmoop, established relationship
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson & Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Thanks to: You, for reading. bellasianna, as ever, for the beta, handholding and encouragement,
Notes: Written for marishna's Picture Prompt Fic-a-thon and this was my prompt
Summary: The table is set, Christian is cooking and Steve looks good in a suit
"Chris?" Steve calls out as he pushes the front door open. "You home?"
"In the kitchen," comes Christian's reply, accompanied by the clattering of pans.
Steve smiles at the sound, the aroma hitting him a few seconds later. He takes a deep breath as he makes his way through the house. He pauses, one eyebrow rising curiously at the sight of the dining table set, with flowers and candles in the middle of it.
"Something smells good," he murmurs, his lips to Christian's ear as he wraps his arms around him from behind, pulling him backwards from the stove against his chest. "And I don't just mean the chef," he clarifies, hands sliding under Christian's t-shirt as he nuzzles his neck.
Christian chuckles, leaning briefly against Steve before straightening up and turning the hob down. He turns around in Steve's arms, loops his arms around his neck and kisses him. "Hey," he whispers, grinning against Steve's lips.
"Hey yourself," Steve replies, kissing Christian again. "What you cooking?"
Christian shakes his head and pulls back from Steve, smirking at the look of confusion on his lovers face. He crosses the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. Opening the bottle he hands it to Steve, then shoos him out of the kitchen.
"What?" Confusion and amusement are equally clear on Steve's face but he lets Christian push him out of the door. He raises his bottle to his lips, leaning against the doorframe, content to watch Christian bustling around the kitchen.
"You just gonna stand there and watch me?" Christian asks as he looks over at Steve.
Steve nods. "Watching you's never a bad thing." He grins as a faint flush colours Christian's cheeks and he turns back to his cooking. Steve takes the opportunity to gaze running down over Christian's broad muscular shoulders, down his strong back and over the curve of his ass. He moans softly, his fingers itching to touch and his cock hardening in his jeans. "So, what are you cooking?" Steve asks again, laughing when Christian blatantly ignores him. "OK, so… why are you cooking?"
"I like cooking." Christian points out.
"Uh-huh… what about the table being set?" A frown creases his forehead and he takes a swig from his beer. "Is your momma coming to stay or something?"
Christian chuckles and shakes his head
"Are my parents coming over?" He pauses and shakes his head, perplexed expression on his face. He narrows his eyes. "No, they would have said something to me…"
"No, no-one's coming to dinner." Christian stops and wipes his hands on the tea towel that's tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His forehead is creased and he crosses the room to stand in front of Steve. He plucks the bottle from Steve's hand and takes a drink from it. "Steve, what day is it today?"
"Um… Is this a trick question? It's Saturday," he adds at the sharp look on Christian's face.
Christian presses himself against Steve. "That's not what I meant."
Steve swallows, his hands automatically dropping to rest on Christian's hips. "I thought you were cooking?"
"I am. But seems someone's forgotten something very important since this morning…"
Steve groans as Christian's fingers rub the growing bulge through his jeans. He bucks up slightly into Christian's hand, lips trailing across his jaw. "Definitely not forgotten this morning," he blushes, voice growing husky and arousal crashing through him both from the memory of being woken up by a blow job followed by a morning of slow, sleepy, lazy warm sex and by having Christian pressed against him. "Fuck, Chris…"
"Maybe later," Christian kisses him hard then winks as he steps away. "I'm cooking, remember."
Steve groans and palms himself through his jeans. "Fuckin' tease…"
"Later," Christian promises, before turning his attention back to his cooking. He turns the volume on the radio up slightly, singing along under his breath.
"I'm serious." Steve crosses the room and places the bottle on the side. He turns Christian to face him, his curiosity and confusion evident on his face and in his voice. "What's goin' on here, Christian? Yeah, I know it's our anniversary but we don't… we've never made a big deal, made some kind of production out of it. That's just not us. And now you're…" he gestured around the kitchen. "And the table, and…"
Christian sighs and twists the tea towel between his hands. He looks down at the floor and sighs shakily, before meeting Steve's eyes. "Steve, I… I guess I ought to tell you this before you find out anyway. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna come out with it, OK?" He takes a deep breath then continues before Steve has chance to respond. "I've turned into… well… I've turned into a girl," he deadpanned before snorting with laughter
Steve's jaw drops open and he shakes his head. He grabs hold of the tea towel and slaps Christian on the ass with it. "Idiot," he murmurs, before kissing him.
"We used to spend every waking moment together," Chris says softly. "It's different now. We hardly ever see each other, between you writin' and recordin' and me flyin' back and forth to Nashville…" He runs a hand through his hair, emotion flashing in his eyes. "It's different now," he sighs. "And what, I'm not allowed to… to make a romantic gesture? I love you, Steve. I know I don't say it or show it but I do. And I hate it when we're not together. I miss you," he whispered. "I just wanted to… to… " He trails off, unable to stop the hint of defensiveness that creeps into his voice. "I wanted to do something special to show you how much I love you."
"I'm sorry, Christian." He cups Christian's cheek in his hand and leans forward to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I…" He trails off as Christian kisses him back. "I love you too." He breaks the kiss, a smile on his face as he trails his finger across Christian's lips.
Christian's eyes slide closed and he leans into the touch, his lips curling up into a smile. He catches Steve's wrist in his hand and places a gentle kiss to his palm. Their eyes meet and they stand there, smiling tenderly at each other.
Until Steve's stomach growls.
"And that's how you kill the moment," Steve laughs, his cheeks pink and a guilty sheepish look on his face. He shakes his head and pulls Christian tight against him, hands sliding down to cup his ass as he kisses him, walking them backwards 'til they reach the counter. Still kissing Christian, Steve reaches behind him to grab a carrot. He yelps as Christian slaps the back of his hand with a wooden spoon. "That hurt" he pouts, then bites down on the carrot.
"It was supposed to," Christian rolls his eyes. "Now, get out of my kitchen!" He steps forward, brandishing the wooden spoon in a mock-menacing manner. Steve holds his hands up, eyes wide as he steps backward; Christian chasing him out of the kitchen, waving the spoon at him, laughter following him up the stairs.
*****
Christian nods to himself in satisfaction, lips curving up in a smile as he lays the plates down on the table. He smooths his hand over the tablecloth before turning and walking back to the kitchen. He pulls off his apron, drops it onto the back of a chair and runs his hands through his hair. Taking a deep breath, he steps back into the hallway and calls out to Steve. His eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat and a grin spreading across his face as Steve appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in a suit, bow tie unfastened and hanging loose from the collar of his shirt.
Their eyes meet and a matching grin grows on Steve's face as he quickly makes his way down the stairs. He presses Christian back against the wall, cupping his face in his hands as he kisses him. "Hi."
"Hi," Christian laughs. "You look..." His hands drop to Steve's waist as he rakes his eyes over him. "And I feel under-dressed," he jokes, glancing down at his jeans and t-shirt.
Steve shakes his head. "Look perfect to me," he disagrees, brushing his lips over Christian's, thumb running over his cheek at the blush that coloured it. "You do," he insists softly, kissing Christian's protest away. "Like the man I fell in love with."
"Thank you," Christian whispers, tugging Steve against him and deepening the kiss, Steve's hands tangling in his hair. "Love you," he mumbles between kisses, his arms wrapping tighter around Steve, holding him even closer. He kisses a trail down Steve's jaw to his throat. "I want you… want you to… I need to… will you… please… need you… fuck, Steve!" he gasps, Steve's hands sliding under his t-shirt, hands resting flat against his chest.
"I have no idea what you're saying," Steve laughs breathlessly, capturing Christian's lips with his own and kissing him quiet. "But, much as I want to fuck you right here against the wall, we can't… you've cooked and…"
"Don't care," Christian pants, rocking his hips forward against Steve's and smirking at the catch of breath it caused. "Want you."
"Want you too," Steve promises, nibbling on his lower lip. "But… Dinner first. You went to all that trouble for me and I'm not letting us ruin it." He takes a deep breath and steps back, pulling his hands out from under Christian's t-shirt. "We can wait 'til later. Think of it as dessert. We could even use whipped cream," he winked.
"Made dessert too," Christian replies quietly, flushing when Steve laughs. "But whipped cream sounds fun..." he licks his lips, pressing the heel of his hand against his crotch with a low groan. "Fuck, Steve… you… suit… fuck you look…" he shakes his head, raking his eyes over Steve, gaze lingering on the bulge in his pants. "After dinner," he says softly, tone half reminder to himself, half promise.
"You made an effort so…" He trails off, sheepish grin on his face when Christian reaches up and starts tying his bow tie for him, kissing him when done. "So I thought I would."
"I appreciate it. Now, come on..." Christian tangles his fingers with Steve's and leads him into the dining room. "The quicker we eat, the quicker we fuck, right?"
*****
"That," Steve declares contentedly, pushing his plate forward and leaning back in his chair," was delicious. Thank you."
"Yeah," Christian agrees half-heartedly, his eyes fixed on his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. "Thanks."
Steve frowns. "You've hardly touched yours," he observes softly. "What's wrong Chris?"
Christian blinks and drops his fork clattering to the plate. He picks up his glass and takes a quick sip. "Nothing," he says, shaking his head.
"Uh-huh?" Steve quirks an eyebrow. "You've barely touched your food even though you spent all afternoon organising this meal for us. You've been fidgety, agitated and tense since we sat down. I know you well enough to know when something's going round in that head of yours and right now you're anxious or nervous about something. Now, out with it Kane."
Christian sighs shakily and nods, looking up at Steve. "Yeah. Yeah, ok… I need to… Can I ask you a question, Steve?"
Steve leans forward again and meets Christian's eyes. "You can ask me anything, Chris," he states simply, confusion furrowing his brow when Christian takes hold of his hand, one fingers tracing a random pattern in his hand.
"I…" Christian takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself before continuing "I... I wasn't too sure what I was right supposed to do here, if... if I was supposed to get you flowers or if I should be havin' a ring to give to you or if I should be down on one knee right now but..."
Steve's eyes widen as Christian trails off. His lips part but no sound comes out, instead his tongue flickering out to wet them. "I..."
Christian visible deflates, his eyes closing and a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Oh. Look, Steve, just forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea and..." He starts to pull away, chair scraping across the floor as he pushes it back. He stands up and reaches for the plates; Steve grabbing his wrist and pulling him close, to stand between his legs. "Steve, I..."
"Do you... I mean are you..." Steve trails off, swallowing. He cups Christian's cheek in his hands. "Are you trying to ask me to marry you, Christian?"
"I..." Christian starts to answer but Steve places a finger over his lips. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles, making Christian's breath catch in his chest. He leans into Steve's touch and inhales shakily before nodding his head.
Steve's smile brightens and Christian can't help himself from smiling back; never has been able to. "Yes," Steve breathes, kissing him.
~El Fin~
Author: Cassie Morgan (badfalcon)
Categories: Steve Carlson/Christian Kane, schmoop, established relationship
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson & Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Thanks to: You, for reading. bellasianna, as ever, for the beta, handholding and encouragement,
Notes: Written for marishna's Picture Prompt Fic-a-thon and this was my prompt
Summary: The table is set, Christian is cooking and Steve looks good in a suit
"Chris?" Steve calls out as he pushes the front door open. "You home?"
"In the kitchen," comes Christian's reply, accompanied by the clattering of pans.
Steve smiles at the sound, the aroma hitting him a few seconds later. He takes a deep breath as he makes his way through the house. He pauses, one eyebrow rising curiously at the sight of the dining table set, with flowers and candles in the middle of it.
"Something smells good," he murmurs, his lips to Christian's ear as he wraps his arms around him from behind, pulling him backwards from the stove against his chest. "And I don't just mean the chef," he clarifies, hands sliding under Christian's t-shirt as he nuzzles his neck.
Christian chuckles, leaning briefly against Steve before straightening up and turning the hob down. He turns around in Steve's arms, loops his arms around his neck and kisses him. "Hey," he whispers, grinning against Steve's lips.
"Hey yourself," Steve replies, kissing Christian again. "What you cooking?"
Christian shakes his head and pulls back from Steve, smirking at the look of confusion on his lovers face. He crosses the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. Opening the bottle he hands it to Steve, then shoos him out of the kitchen.
"What?" Confusion and amusement are equally clear on Steve's face but he lets Christian push him out of the door. He raises his bottle to his lips, leaning against the doorframe, content to watch Christian bustling around the kitchen.
"You just gonna stand there and watch me?" Christian asks as he looks over at Steve.
Steve nods. "Watching you's never a bad thing." He grins as a faint flush colours Christian's cheeks and he turns back to his cooking. Steve takes the opportunity to gaze running down over Christian's broad muscular shoulders, down his strong back and over the curve of his ass. He moans softly, his fingers itching to touch and his cock hardening in his jeans. "So, what are you cooking?" Steve asks again, laughing when Christian blatantly ignores him. "OK, so… why are you cooking?"
"I like cooking." Christian points out.
"Uh-huh… what about the table being set?" A frown creases his forehead and he takes a swig from his beer. "Is your momma coming to stay or something?"
Christian chuckles and shakes his head
"Are my parents coming over?" He pauses and shakes his head, perplexed expression on his face. He narrows his eyes. "No, they would have said something to me…"
"No, no-one's coming to dinner." Christian stops and wipes his hands on the tea towel that's tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His forehead is creased and he crosses the room to stand in front of Steve. He plucks the bottle from Steve's hand and takes a drink from it. "Steve, what day is it today?"
"Um… Is this a trick question? It's Saturday," he adds at the sharp look on Christian's face.
Christian presses himself against Steve. "That's not what I meant."
Steve swallows, his hands automatically dropping to rest on Christian's hips. "I thought you were cooking?"
"I am. But seems someone's forgotten something very important since this morning…"
Steve groans as Christian's fingers rub the growing bulge through his jeans. He bucks up slightly into Christian's hand, lips trailing across his jaw. "Definitely not forgotten this morning," he blushes, voice growing husky and arousal crashing through him both from the memory of being woken up by a blow job followed by a morning of slow, sleepy, lazy warm sex and by having Christian pressed against him. "Fuck, Chris…"
"Maybe later," Christian kisses him hard then winks as he steps away. "I'm cooking, remember."
Steve groans and palms himself through his jeans. "Fuckin' tease…"
"Later," Christian promises, before turning his attention back to his cooking. He turns the volume on the radio up slightly, singing along under his breath.
"I'm serious." Steve crosses the room and places the bottle on the side. He turns Christian to face him, his curiosity and confusion evident on his face and in his voice. "What's goin' on here, Christian? Yeah, I know it's our anniversary but we don't… we've never made a big deal, made some kind of production out of it. That's just not us. And now you're…" he gestured around the kitchen. "And the table, and…"
Christian sighs and twists the tea towel between his hands. He looks down at the floor and sighs shakily, before meeting Steve's eyes. "Steve, I… I guess I ought to tell you this before you find out anyway. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna come out with it, OK?" He takes a deep breath then continues before Steve has chance to respond. "I've turned into… well… I've turned into a girl," he deadpanned before snorting with laughter
Steve's jaw drops open and he shakes his head. He grabs hold of the tea towel and slaps Christian on the ass with it. "Idiot," he murmurs, before kissing him.
"We used to spend every waking moment together," Chris says softly. "It's different now. We hardly ever see each other, between you writin' and recordin' and me flyin' back and forth to Nashville…" He runs a hand through his hair, emotion flashing in his eyes. "It's different now," he sighs. "And what, I'm not allowed to… to make a romantic gesture? I love you, Steve. I know I don't say it or show it but I do. And I hate it when we're not together. I miss you," he whispered. "I just wanted to… to… " He trails off, unable to stop the hint of defensiveness that creeps into his voice. "I wanted to do something special to show you how much I love you."
"I'm sorry, Christian." He cups Christian's cheek in his hand and leans forward to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I…" He trails off as Christian kisses him back. "I love you too." He breaks the kiss, a smile on his face as he trails his finger across Christian's lips.
Christian's eyes slide closed and he leans into the touch, his lips curling up into a smile. He catches Steve's wrist in his hand and places a gentle kiss to his palm. Their eyes meet and they stand there, smiling tenderly at each other.
Until Steve's stomach growls.
"And that's how you kill the moment," Steve laughs, his cheeks pink and a guilty sheepish look on his face. He shakes his head and pulls Christian tight against him, hands sliding down to cup his ass as he kisses him, walking them backwards 'til they reach the counter. Still kissing Christian, Steve reaches behind him to grab a carrot. He yelps as Christian slaps the back of his hand with a wooden spoon. "That hurt" he pouts, then bites down on the carrot.
"It was supposed to," Christian rolls his eyes. "Now, get out of my kitchen!" He steps forward, brandishing the wooden spoon in a mock-menacing manner. Steve holds his hands up, eyes wide as he steps backward; Christian chasing him out of the kitchen, waving the spoon at him, laughter following him up the stairs.
*****
Christian nods to himself in satisfaction, lips curving up in a smile as he lays the plates down on the table. He smooths his hand over the tablecloth before turning and walking back to the kitchen. He pulls off his apron, drops it onto the back of a chair and runs his hands through his hair. Taking a deep breath, he steps back into the hallway and calls out to Steve. His eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat and a grin spreading across his face as Steve appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in a suit, bow tie unfastened and hanging loose from the collar of his shirt.
Their eyes meet and a matching grin grows on Steve's face as he quickly makes his way down the stairs. He presses Christian back against the wall, cupping his face in his hands as he kisses him. "Hi."
"Hi," Christian laughs. "You look..." His hands drop to Steve's waist as he rakes his eyes over him. "And I feel under-dressed," he jokes, glancing down at his jeans and t-shirt.
Steve shakes his head. "Look perfect to me," he disagrees, brushing his lips over Christian's, thumb running over his cheek at the blush that coloured it. "You do," he insists softly, kissing Christian's protest away. "Like the man I fell in love with."
"Thank you," Christian whispers, tugging Steve against him and deepening the kiss, Steve's hands tangling in his hair. "Love you," he mumbles between kisses, his arms wrapping tighter around Steve, holding him even closer. He kisses a trail down Steve's jaw to his throat. "I want you… want you to… I need to… will you… please… need you… fuck, Steve!" he gasps, Steve's hands sliding under his t-shirt, hands resting flat against his chest.
"I have no idea what you're saying," Steve laughs breathlessly, capturing Christian's lips with his own and kissing him quiet. "But, much as I want to fuck you right here against the wall, we can't… you've cooked and…"
"Don't care," Christian pants, rocking his hips forward against Steve's and smirking at the catch of breath it caused. "Want you."
"Want you too," Steve promises, nibbling on his lower lip. "But… Dinner first. You went to all that trouble for me and I'm not letting us ruin it." He takes a deep breath and steps back, pulling his hands out from under Christian's t-shirt. "We can wait 'til later. Think of it as dessert. We could even use whipped cream," he winked.
"Made dessert too," Christian replies quietly, flushing when Steve laughs. "But whipped cream sounds fun..." he licks his lips, pressing the heel of his hand against his crotch with a low groan. "Fuck, Steve… you… suit… fuck you look…" he shakes his head, raking his eyes over Steve, gaze lingering on the bulge in his pants. "After dinner," he says softly, tone half reminder to himself, half promise.
"You made an effort so…" He trails off, sheepish grin on his face when Christian reaches up and starts tying his bow tie for him, kissing him when done. "So I thought I would."
"I appreciate it. Now, come on..." Christian tangles his fingers with Steve's and leads him into the dining room. "The quicker we eat, the quicker we fuck, right?"
*****
"That," Steve declares contentedly, pushing his plate forward and leaning back in his chair," was delicious. Thank you."
"Yeah," Christian agrees half-heartedly, his eyes fixed on his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. "Thanks."
Steve frowns. "You've hardly touched yours," he observes softly. "What's wrong Chris?"
Christian blinks and drops his fork clattering to the plate. He picks up his glass and takes a quick sip. "Nothing," he says, shaking his head.
"Uh-huh?" Steve quirks an eyebrow. "You've barely touched your food even though you spent all afternoon organising this meal for us. You've been fidgety, agitated and tense since we sat down. I know you well enough to know when something's going round in that head of yours and right now you're anxious or nervous about something. Now, out with it Kane."
Christian sighs shakily and nods, looking up at Steve. "Yeah. Yeah, ok… I need to… Can I ask you a question, Steve?"
Steve leans forward again and meets Christian's eyes. "You can ask me anything, Chris," he states simply, confusion furrowing his brow when Christian takes hold of his hand, one fingers tracing a random pattern in his hand.
"I…" Christian takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself before continuing "I... I wasn't too sure what I was right supposed to do here, if... if I was supposed to get you flowers or if I should be havin' a ring to give to you or if I should be down on one knee right now but..."
Steve's eyes widen as Christian trails off. His lips part but no sound comes out, instead his tongue flickering out to wet them. "I..."
Christian visible deflates, his eyes closing and a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Oh. Look, Steve, just forget I said anything. It was a stupid idea and..." He starts to pull away, chair scraping across the floor as he pushes it back. He stands up and reaches for the plates; Steve grabbing his wrist and pulling him close, to stand between his legs. "Steve, I..."
"Do you... I mean are you..." Steve trails off, swallowing. He cups Christian's cheek in his hands. "Are you trying to ask me to marry you, Christian?"
"I..." Christian starts to answer but Steve places a finger over his lips. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles, making Christian's breath catch in his chest. He leans into Steve's touch and inhales shakily before nodding his head.
Steve's smile brightens and Christian can't help himself from smiling back; never has been able to. "Yes," Steve breathes, kissing him.
~El Fin~