Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Drabble Request ~ Chris/Jensen

Denied Hunger

for trishabooms
Jensen/Chris, implied Jared/Jensen, Chris/David
shivering, shaking, sweating addict
400 Words
not mine

One more Goddamn day,
When I know what I want,
And my wants will be considered tonight.

Just another day,
When all that I want will
Mark me as a sinner tonight.

He knew that his friend needed something. He could see it in his eyes. Feel it in the air when they played pool and watched the game. Drank beer and talked shit. Even when Chris sat with a guitar in his arms, scribbled lyrics and stared out the window not seeing the sky. Not even seeing the girls that lined up in bars wearing tight T-shirts and even tighter jeans to get their autograph, a picture, a kiss, a hug, a room key.

Chris twitched. Fuck, he was always twitching. Bouncing a knee, drumming his fingers, playing air guitar, rolling a piece of paper, rolling a joint. Jensen was reminded of some relation's small dog. Yapping motherfucker that he'd run over rather than pet if given the choice. But Chris' steady, constant motion was more.

He asked Jared. He asked Steve. Jared gave him a smile that didn't lead to answers, but it did end in an excellent blow job. Steve shrugged and told Jensen to hide the coke. Any coke.

One night left and they were back to Vancouver. Jensen didn't feel like spending it at some anonymous party. Chris knocked precisely an hour after he said he'd be over. Jensen's bags were packed and by the door, his condo dark and Disturbed echoed against white walls because Jensen was not Dean Winchester.

“Thought we were going out.”

Chris vibrated.

“Think we're staying in.” Jensen smiled. He caught a glimpse in a mirror and realized why Jared had blown him that day.

“Sure. Whatever.”

Three beers, a bottle of Jack and a joint later, Jensen traced a drop of sweat from Chris' forehead to his jaw.

“Tell me what you need, Kane.”

Jensen saw too much in Chris' expression. Too much in his eyes. He didn't see himself there and that was okay. He wasn't the answer to Chris' desire, but he could be everything else.

Hard, tight fingers on his cock. Zipper, buttons, denim on the floor. Quick grab and reach, hair standing up after cotton was tossed. Teeth and lips and kisses that hurt. Chris shaking and twisting, turning in Jensen's arms. Reaching back for someone bigger, someone taller, someone that wasn't there.

A condom and lube. Hips and tight ass smacking back against him, Jensen didn't mind standing in. That's what best friends did.

Tags: chris/jensen, drabbles, ficlet, rps
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