Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Never Wanted You

Fucker by ely_jan

In a Minute by sweptawaybayou

Want Me? by ely_jan

Never Wanted You
David Boreanaz/Christian Kane
Not mine. Not hers. No profit. No gain.

“Want you?” David groaned.

He opened his eyes and looked at Chris. So fucking close to him, beer on his breath, faint smell of cigarettes trapped in the cotton of Chris’ shirt. Scents that David could pick out of the oil and gasoline aromas that surrounded them, the lawnmower with thick, fresh grass still stuck to it. The blue of his eyes stood out in the gloom of the garage and the metallic paint of David’s mustang was cold under his bare ass. Chris’ hand on his cock, two fingers inside of him and David clenched down. The taste of copper on his tongue, his heart beat too fast.

“Keep doing that shit, David and you’ll have a heart attack.”

“Oh, yeah. Shooting up between your toes, dropping a tab of E every weekend is doing wonders for your skin tone, Jamie.”

Fuck. No wonder their nanny made more money a month than David had seen in a year. Before walking Blue, *deciding to* thinking about giving up, giving in, moving back east and taking his dad up on that offer had paid off. Fuck, he had loved that dog. More than both wives, that’s for goddamn sure.

David tightened his fingers around Chris’ cock, football grip. He pulled Chris close enough to lick over his soft lips, his hand twisting, stretching the worn T-shirt. Taste the chemical after-shave tang and under that, the unique, intoxicating spice of his skin.

“I don’t fucking want you, Kane.” David kept the fingers of both hands tight on Chris’ dick, on his clothes when the jerk came.

The pull away that David knew his words would bring. The stop motion of Chris’ hand on his cock, the sudden empty loss when his lube slick fingers pulled out and David couldn’t keep him inside, no matter how tight he clenched. But he could keep Chris from moving away. His khakis dangling from one leg, the other bare and both wrapped around Chris’ hips.

“Why would I want you?” David growled, his thumb running over the head of Chris’ cock, wet with precome. Pushing into the slit, dragging his nail over the smooth ridges, down the vein.

Chris fought his hold, just like David knew he would. Little firecracker, cowboy, bull rider. Ready for anything, anytime and if he was drunk, well that was just fucking better, wasn’t it? David had never seen Chris back down from anything, from anyone, ever. And just as those pretty white teeth snapped in his direction, David pulled his head back.

“Hit me. Bite me. Fuck me. Tease me. Hurt me. Leave me alone for months at a time, then call me up drunk and lonely and expect me to be there no fucking matter what … why would I want that?

“I don’t want you, Kane. I never have.”

The very air around them grew charged with the electricity, with the sparks of a fire that only burnt from the inside, the smoke of a dangerous desire and blind anger. Dust motes danced in the sunshine from the one window that wasn’t covered with blinds. Waves of rage that David could feel pulsing from Chris’ eyes, from his body. From muscles bunched and corded with tension.

David remembered the first time they met, the immediate attraction. The way they played it off as buddies for months and every scene they shot on film clicked. Every bar they went to they ended up back to back, fighting and laughing and spitting blood on the floor, going back for more. Every party caused more and more damage to the house David rented until the landlord finally had enough and evicted him. Sued him. And still they didn’t touch more than usual, didn’t talk about anything that mattered, didn’t share secrets or dreams or hopes or fears. They drank and they got high, they snorted coke and tripped on acid and acted like the rest of the world revolved around them. They were fearless. Untouchable.

Until they weren’t.

Until they kissed. One drunken night, just before dawn, just before David’s wedding.

“She’s pregnant.”

“So fucking what?”

“It’s mine.”

“And ...?”

“That is important.”

“To who?”

“ … to me, Chris.”

Was that the first time Chris had hit him? A pure fury born from loss and fear and … more. David didn’t know. So many nights he couldn’t remember. All he did know is that was the first time they had truly touched, the first time in David’s life that anything had ever felt right and perfect and real.

“Since the day I met you, Kane, I’ve never wanted you.”

David heard the slow tear of material as Chris pulled back harder. The give of fibers separating, splitting and he couldn’t hear the party going on around them any more. Nothing existed for him beyond the bright blue eyes that were only inches from his, the lips as soft as a comforter on a cold winter night. The teeth that could bring such pain, the flash of a warm, pink tongue that had always given him such pleasure. The mind behind the face that haunted David’s dreams, that kept him awake at night. That sent him outside to listen to the crickets and watch the moon as it moved so fucking slow across the sky.

“I need you.”

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