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Dropping his head against the back of the couch, Jeff closes his eyes and counts to ten for what feels like the millionth time in the past day. He isn't sure where it all went wrong, but what was supposed to be 38 hours filled with making out like horny teenagers and sex on every surface they could find has turned into a trip to the fucking Arctic circle.
He has got to figure it out though.
"Once more into the breach, eh darlin’?" Stroking his fingers through Bisou's fur one last time, he pushes himself to his feet slowly.
Entering the kitchen, he grabs a beer out of the fridge, silently offering one to Christian as the other man sends an unreadable look his way. Taking the silence as a no, he twists the top off his and takes a long pull. Leaning against the counter and watching Christian bang pots and slam cabinet doors, he wonders what he did to piss off the Powers That Be and idly contemplates just how one goes about getting live chickens at this time of night for blood sacrifices. Because if he has to put up with another meal filled with sullen redneck, he just might lose it.
"Anything I can do to help?"
“No.”
Ok, so yes or no questions? Really not the best conversation starter.
“Hey Christian? Wanna stop what you are doing there for a moment and I don’t know… maybe actually talk to me?”
“What is there to say Jeff?”
“Oh I don’t know, maybe you could tell me whats going on in that thick skull of yours? Or talk to me about work? Anything other than one word answers. Hell, I’d even take more of you going on about your shows with Steve.”
“Maybe I ain’t got nothing to say.”
Jeff swears he can feel the muscles in his shoulder getting wound tighter and tighter with every word Christian doesn’t say.
“Come on, don’t play the dumb hick card with me. I know you have a brain, and I know that in spite of what you might say to the contrary, you can be damn eloquent in your own way when you want to. So throw an old man a bone here, please?”
“You want eloquent? Hows this. Fuck off Morgan. Leave me the hell alone and let me finish making dinner.”
“So tell me again why you flew out here on the one weekend you don’t have filming? What are we doing Christian?”
“You fucking asked me out here. Course, I didn’t realize that meant I had to bow and entertain you to keep up my end of the deal. You shoulda planned that one better Hoss.”
“So now it’s my fault?”
“Well iffn you wanna put it that way… yeah, maybe it is.”
His beer slams down on the counter and apparently he hadn’t drank nearly enough of it because suddenly there is a river of foam flowing down the side of the bottle and drenching his hand, and its the last damn straw.
“Dammit Kane! Can you just fucking give me a straight answer for once? What crawled up your ass and died?”
Yeah, that’ll work, he always responds well to being yelled at. Jesus wept.
The silence that follows is nearly suffocating, and when he just cocks one eyebrow and looks at me as if I were something that he just scraped off the bottom of his boots I want to punch something.
“Would you fucking say something?? Anything! I don’t know what is going on here but I am trying to make this god forsaken relationship work and I’m fucking tired of being the only one that gives a shit!”
He knows he's gone too far by the way Christian's body stills, and suddenly, listening to the dying echoes of his words, he wishes he had learned to keep his goddamn mouth shut for once in his life.
"Christian-"
"No, Jeff. Just... no." Christian holds his hand up as if to ward him off, and Jeff gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at the look on Christian's face. "If that is what you believe... you know what? I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing here. Obviously this was a huge fucking mistake."
He watches as Christian whirls and strides out of the room, his brain taking a moment to process what just happened. But as he charges down the hallway and throws open the door to their bedroom, the sight of his lover throwing clothes into a duffle bag stops any arguments he might have had cold.
"What are you doing?"
"I would think thats pretty fucking obvious, don't you?"
One final shove of clothes into the bag and Christian is stalking past him, leaving Jeff to try and catch up mentally as well as physically.
"Christian!"
He catches up with him just as his hand is settling on the door knob.
"Where are you going? Come on man, your flight doesn't even leave until tomorrow morning."
"I ain't fucking staying here, I so don't need this shit right now man. Not one fucking bit. I've got friends in LA, I'll find a couch to crash on. Hell, Steve is just up the 101, I'll fucking crash at his place tonight."
It’s the mention of Steve that does it... the casualness... the image of Steve welcoming Christian with open arms.
He understands now what people mean when they say they see red. It feels like every drop of blood in his body has just shot straight to his head and his vision is literally tinged red as he sees his hands reach out and grab Christian by the shoulder and spin him around.
"You can't fucking walk out on this! On me.”
Way to go Jeff, he thinks. Could you be a little more pathetic? Jesus.
"Oh yeah? Watch me old man."
And that right there? Was the sound of whatever tenuous hold he had on his temper snapping.
"No, not gonna happen cowboy, you're gonna stay right the fuck here!"
Slamming the younger man up against the wall, Jeff steps in close, using his body to pin him in place. He allows his body to slide down slightly, grinding his erection against Christian's hip. He watches as Christian closes his eyes and turns his head to the side.
"Give it up old man,” Christian's growl just makes him harder as he writhes beneath Jeff's body. "I don't want this. Don't fucking want you."
"Not listening to your lies, boy" Jeff fastens his mouth on the muscles cording along the side of Christian's neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark and then softening the sting with the caress of his tongue before doing the same thing over again. "I know better.”
His hand slides between their bodies until he is cupping Christian's erection in his palm. Closing his fingers, he massages them up and down the length listening to the moans that Christian is trying to bite back.
"This right here? Tells a different story."
Keeping up the rhythmic movement of his hand, Jeff uses the other to grab Christian's chin and turns his face forward until he can mouth his way from Christian's neck to jaw to chin. Pressing kisses along the smooth skin, nipping at the hard line of Christian's jaw until he can capture Christian's mouth in a kiss.
Although to be fair, calling it a kiss might be stretching the definition a bit. Christian is giving as good as he gets, and Jeff feels his lips bruising from the force they are using. His tongue swipes across Christian's lower lip, demanding entrance into his mouth and fighting for every centimeter.
Christian’s mouth opens under Jeff's onslaught, but his teeth are quick to capture Jeff's lower lip, worrying at it until Jeff pulls back with a wince. Their tongues are tangling, teeth biting and each working for dominance of the kiss and Jeff can feel the growl that has taken up residence in his chest reverberating between the two of them. But at least he is getting something, some fucking reaction.
"Haven't touched me all weekend," Jeff growls, his hands roaming Christian's body, fingers tracing every valley and peak they can touch. "Tell me you don't want this, that you aren't fucking hard and leaking for me right now. Go on, tell me and I'll let you walk away. “
His hands gentle somewhat as Christian stops fighting him, fingers worming their way under three layers of shirts. And really, who the fuck wears three damn shirts in California in the middle of May? Shoving said shirts up, he scores his fingers along Christian’s ribs, breathing in the moans that Christian can’t hold back like a man gasping for air.
“Been driving me crazy ever since you got off that damned plane, seeing you, smelling you... and you hiding like a goddamn virgin on her wedding night.” His fingers slide into the curls at the base of Christian’s skull pulling him closer, and Jeff grinds his hips forward again, he can feel Christian’s erection brushing against his and impossibly finds himself growing harder. His voice is barely a whisper now, but he can’t stop himself. “Been too damn long boy, missed you so fucking much. Missed this."
“Missed me?”
The sound that tears its way out of Christian’s throat is too full of glass shards and acid to be a laugh.
Almost before he realizes it, Jeff is falling backwards, shoved by Christian and too surprised to do anything except stumble backwards until his legs meet the edge of the coffee table. His ass thumps down onto the wood hard enough that he hears his teeth clack together from the force of it, and he tastes the bright bloom of copper in his mouth as he realizes he must have bit his tongue.
He can only stare as Christian starts tearing as his belt and the button fly on his jeans. As those strong fingers reach in and pull out his erection and start pumping it. Even as he realizes that Christian is speaking, he is fascinated by the dark red flush that covers Christian’s cock, the faint glimmer of precum on the head, the slickslide noise his hand makes as he strokes himself.
“You fucking missed me?” The hurt and betrayal in Christian’s voice finally catches his attention. “That’s fucking rich Morgan. Tell me, when did you miss me? After Jen left you high and dry? Did you tell him how much you missed the way he smelled? Yeah, that’s right. I know all about him coming to visit you before he left for Asylum. Didn’t think I would hear about that did ya? He can fucking tell an entire goddamn continent but you never thought to mention it to me? Do you know how I even found out about it? Fucking PA’s on the set gossiping about how Jensen looked happy as a pig in shit when he was at that Con. How they had heard he told everyone he had spent a week out here visiting you and how you must have put that smile on his face. What the fuck am I supposed to think when neither my best friend, much less my fucking boyfriend bother to even mention it to me for an entire month? What am I supposed to think? So now you want this so fucking much? Then take it. Fucking take it and be damned you asshole. I trusted you, Jeff. I fucking trusted you.”
And that right there? Pretty much the last thing Jeff ever would have expected to hear. And fuck if he is going to let Christian think that he would ever choose someone else over him.
Shoving himself up off the coffee table, it takes him all of about 2 seconds to move in front of Christian, hands cupping either side of his neck and forcing the singer to look up at him.
“Goddamn fucking Oklahoma redneck son of a bitch,” his voice is barely a whisper, emotion rough and getting rougher as he stares into the blinding blue of Christian’s eyes, but he feels like this might be the most important thing he has ever said. “Is that seriously what this is about? Because… Jesus. Christian… don’t you know how fucking gone I am for you?”
He can’t resist any longer and tilts Christian’s head up for a kiss. He means for it to be tender and tentative, but as usual what he means and what happen are far from the same thing. Chris resists, and he finds himself biting at the younger man’s lips, licking like a cat at the corners of his mouth, pressing kisses all over his skin, whispering apologies and explanations between each kiss, praying that something will sink in.
“Jensen came out to ask me about proposing to Daneel. I beat his ass at golf and we drank too much and I got maudlin and he listened to me talk about how fucking much I miss you. Christ, I know everyone thinks I have some weird ass thing with him and Jared, thinks of them as my boys, but I swear that’s it. You are mine in a way that they never could be. Fuck, Christian, you are My Boy, the one, the only. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry.”
Suddenly it doesn’t matter that Chris isn’t kissing him back, he bites back irrational anger as he feels the trembling beside him and he can’t stand the silence anymore. He needs to know that he hasn’t fucked this up beyond repairing.
“Do you know how much I think about you? How you are my first thought every morning and the last thought every night before I fall asleep?” his voice is lower now, teasing and promising. He lets one of his hands start to drift down Christian’s body, fingers trailing under the open edges of the button down shirt, pressing into hard muscle, worshipping. “How I touch myself in the shower because I can’t stop thinking about you riding me or fucking me until I can barely remember my own goddamn name. The way I call yours when I come, every fucking time.”
He tweaks Christian’s nipple, relieved to find it hard and erect when his fingers reach it, relishing the wordless groan that it pulls out of Christian’s throat when he does.
“That’s right, come on. I imagine making you come apart in a thousand different ways throughout the day.” Jeff’s hand is on Christian’s cock now, gripping tight and tugging lightly. “Wishing I could hear you, taste you, touch you.”
He watches as Christian’s eyes flutter closed, a moan that is sin personified rolling from him as Jeff slides his fingers through the moisture collecting on the head of his cock. His first stroke has the singer arching his hips forward and Jeff tightens his hold on the nape of Christian’s neck as he begins jacking his hand up and down in a rhythm that he knows will bring him quickly.
He leans down to lick at the long line of Christian’s neck as his hand speeds up and Christian allows his head to drop backwards. Jeff can’t resist and begins worrying a patch of neck between his teeth, reveling in the way Christian breaks out in gooseflesh and starts pumping his hips into Jeff’s hand. He knows he is going to leave a mark, but right now there is nothing in this world more that he wants to do than make Christian understand exactly what he is feelng.
His hand is almost a blur now, fingers tightening at the head, twisting his wrist as he bottoms out, using every trick he has ever learned about what Christian likes, what he needs, to bring him. He knows he is close when Christian’s hand comes up to clutch at his shoulder and he feels the tension ratchet up in his body.
“Come on darling,” he extorts into Christian’s neck, biting and rubbing his stubble across the smooth expanse of skin. “Let go sweetheart, I swear I’ll catch you. Come for me Christian, come for me.”
Jeff feels Christian’s orgasm coming, he knows it is close and god he wants it more than he has ever wanted anything before. Focusing completely on the movement of his hand and nothing else, he tightens his grip infinitesimally, knowing the drag of his skin against Christian’s will add to the sensations.
“Fuck… Jeff!”
Music to his ears and thank all the gods of heaven and earth. He slows his hand but doesn’t stop as he feels the first hot threads of come squeeze out between his fingers. He strokes Christian through his orgasm, swallowing every cry with his mouth, finally getting the kiss he has been dying for, greedy for every twitch and tremble that he can draw out.
His pants and shirt are a mess by the time Christian is finished, and his hand is coated with the proof of his success. But it’s the half formed words that are falling from Christian’s lips that mean the most to him.
“Jesus… love you too old man… fuck, yes, right there… Jeff, Jeff, Jeff…”
“I’m so-“
Christian cuts off his apology by pulling Jeff’s head down for a kiss.
“Shhh… I know. I am too.”
Clinging tightly to Chrisian, he sends up a quick thank you to whoever is listening. He doesn’t know what he would do without Christian, can’t imagine a world where he has to.
“God willing you won’t ever have to darlin’”
And apparently he is using his outside voice instead of his inside one.
“Come on cowboy,” he can’t resist bringing his come covered fingers to his mouth and sucking one of them clean. And his cock definitely appreciates the sharp intake of breath from Christian and the fire kindling in those baby blues. “I’m too old for this, want you and a bed. Now.”
The look Christian gives him as he pulls away and turns to the bedroom has him pulling his shirt over his head and following like a lovesick puppy. But really, who could blame him?