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Jerry Lewis' Incredibly Protracted Seduction of Dean Martin

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Another night; another city. Martin and Lewis had killed tonight.

Breathless, shattered and exhilarated, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis burst into their dressing room on a high. Jerry’s eyes were bright, his face still bearing that irrepressible grin as he spun around, holding the back of their dressing room chair.

Dean laughed, carefree as he collapsed on the sofa. After undoing his bowtie with deft fingers, he flicked open the top two buttons of his dress shirt.

Looking over at Jerry, he noticed a bottle behind him - champagne sitting in an ice bucket on their dresser. That was one of the nice things about regularly playing these upmarket joints – there was always some undisclosed perk that would make itself known.

Jerry stopped spinning, leaning against the back of the chair. Dean watched as Jerry undid his bowtie, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. He saw a flash of hunger cross Jerry’s face, but it was gone in an instant.

Jerry undid his top button and then adopted an air of nonchalance that was so sudden, Dean knew he was faking it.

Dean knew the words Jerry was going to speak as soon as he opened his mouth.

“So… did you wanna go out?”

Dean could tell where this was going. It had happened a hundred times before, and would happen a hundred times more if he didn’t do something about it. It always went the same way. Jerry would suggest some night club, slip the maitre d' an exorbitant tip to ensure they got a private booth, and then spend the next several hours driving Dean up the wall.

It wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes Jerry would just want to snuggle against him for the night, or else spend his hours gleefully and deliberately antagonising him. Either way, Dean had had enough of it.

Dean needed to play this safe. Jerry had never made a move when they were alone. Always professional; he either acted disinterested or oblivious to their chemistry. Dean knew there was a chance he would scare easily, so he chose to play dumb.

“Out?” Dean questioned.

“You know?” Jerry started fiddling with his cufflinks, slipping one in and out of its buttonhole. It was a habit he’d had for years, one of which Dean had tried in vain to rid him, back when their shirts were poorly made and the material would stretch and tear so easily.

“Pick up some girls at a club?” Jerry continued, fixing him with his trademark doe-eyed stare. A stare that more often than not ensured he got his way. It might even have worked this time if Dean hadn’t just seen Jerry rejecting at least half a dozen at the stage door five minutes ago.

“Y’know, Jer. I’m sure there are still some out in the lobby – I could send someone to get –“

“No!” Jerry almost shouted. “I mean - I saw them. I just didn’t fancy them.”

“Didn’t fancy them, huh?” Dean smiled up at Jerry.

“No.” Jerry pouted, looking defensive.

Dean slowly unfolded himself from the couch, stalking towards Jerry.

“They weren’t what you had in mind?” Dean’s tone was playful.

“That’s right, Dean. They weren’t what I had in mind.”

Dean was taking a chance, but they’d been dancing around this so long he was at the brink of insanity. He moved a hand to Jerry’s lapel, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

Jerry looked down, watching Dean’s fingers running over the material.

“You want to go to a nightclub? Why? So you can feel me up again?” Dean didn’t stop playing with Jerry’s lapel.

Jerry looked up at Dean suddenly, his eyes like those of a deer caught in the headlights.

Dean pressed further, “I got you all hot and bothered?”

Jerry smoothed his hand over his forehead. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Dean moved his hand to Jerry’s shoulder.

The hitch in Jerry’s breath was gratifying, and Dean felt immediate relief. He slid his hand up to the back of Jerry’s neck and stroked along the nape.

“I do?” Jerry’s voice was soft as he fell under Dean’s spell.

Dean smiled fondly. This, he’d done a thousand times. Perhaps his greatest talent, talking the willing into bed. He hoped it wouldn’t fail him now.

“Why don’t we go up, get an early night?” he asked, voice smooth as silk.

Jerry caught his eye, a knowing mischief there.

“But we don’t have to get up early tomorrow. Why would we want to go to sleep now?” Jerry was playing with him.

“I was thinking of something else.”

This was usually the moment when his companion would close their eyes in passion, allowing him to steal a kiss. But Jerry was no ordinary companion. A frown crossed his face and Dean paused.

“What’s the matter, Jer?”

Jerry’s arm reached up to clutch at his jacket sleeve.

“You’re not gonna reject me again?”

Dean took a deep breath. “No, kid. I’m not gonna reject you again.”

“All those times…” Jerry’s voice drifted off.

Dean gently took hold of Jerry’s chin in his hand, guiding his head up to meet his eyes.

“I never wanted to reject you.”

Jerry’s forehead started to crumple into a frown of confusion. “Then why didja?”

There had been so many reasons, some more valid than others. “I didn’t want to take advantage of you. You were just a kid.”

“I was already married.” Jerry sounded more bewildered than accusatory.

Dean frowned at that. “You were still just a kid. I didn’t think you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Jerry batted his eyelashes at him, “You think I know what I’m getting myself into now?”

Dean grinned impishly, “Kid, you have no idea.”

Jerry’s smile could have out-illuminated the sun itself. The change in him was instantaneous.

“Well, what are you waiting for, old man? Come on!” Jerry practically shouted, snatching the keys and racing out the door, leaving it open.

Swiftly following Jerry out of the room, Dean swiped the bottle of champagne from the dresser. If they were going to be spending some time up in their suite, they would be thankful for the refreshment.

Dean felt a surging giddiness. Watching Jerry walk two steps ahead of him up the stairs, he couldn’t help but croon a few bars.

Everybody loves somebody sometime
Everybody falls in love somehow
Something in your kiss just told me
My sometime is now

Jerry unlocked the door and entered as Dean swanned in behind him, still humming his own tune.

Shutting the door softly, Jerry followed Dean across the room to where he was setting down the champagne glasses.

Dean turned to face Jerry and as they locked eyes, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. The atmosphere was suddenly so claustrophobic, Dean wished there was a window open.

Jerry didn’t look cross or angry, but his expression was dead serious. Taking Dean’s face in his hands, he leaned forward with intent and pressed their lips together.

Dean’s mouth fell slightly open in surprise, and Jerry wasted no time in cheekily darting his tongue out to taste his mouth.

They’d shared countless kisses in their act and in front of other people before, but this was the first time it was just them.

For once, Jerry wasn’t performing. For once, Dean wasn’t pushing him away. Placing the champagne on the table beside them, Dean wrapped his arms around Jerry’s shoulders. Jerry’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer with his hands at the small of Dean’s back.

It really was heaven, kissing Jerry. His lips were sinful, and the things he was doing with his tongue were divine.

Dean reached one of his hands up to stroke the back of Jerry’s head, feeling the shorn bristles of his hair and Jerry moaned into his mouth.

Jerry’s hips pressed forward and Dean’s brain momentarily stuttered as he felt Jerry’s erection pressing against his. He’d been getting hard as they had left the stage; the performing high and rush of the crowd steamrolling through his brain leaving only a heady mix of adrenaline and arousal. The encounter in their dressing room had done nothing to satiate their hunger.

“Mmm, Dean,” he felt more than heard Jerry moan against his lips.

It was Dean’s turn to let out an unexpected noise of disapproval as Jerry broke the kiss, moving his head slightly back to look him in the eye.

“You sure you’re not going to reject me again?”

“No, kid. Never again.”

Dean lunged forward to capture Jerry’s lips in a soul shattering kiss.

Jerry was motionless for a breathtaking second before he let out a helpless noise and threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders.

Dean moved Jerry’s head onto a slight angle to slide their mouths together and felt Jerry melt against him.

Jerry returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, but Dean controlled it. Effortlessly, he lifted Jerry up without breaking the contact of their mouths and walked him over to the bed, the champagne forgotten on the side table.

He threw Jerry onto the bed, and Jerry let out a surprised harrumph at being so unceremoniously tossed.

Dean followed Jerry down, laying on top of him and ravishing him with kisses. When he felt Jerry’s desperate gasps for air, he rolled them over so he wouldn’t crush him. Dean’s arms were wrapped around Jerry, holding him close and he was kissing every inch of bare skin he could find. Jerry was clawing at his shirt and there were entirely too many layers of clothes between them, but that didn’t matter.

Dean tried to roll them again and his motion met resistance. Jerry’s legs were entwined with his, and both sets of dress shoes were caught up in the sheets.

Dean groaned in frustration, sitting up reluctantly to untie his laces and take his socks off.

Jerry was much less dignified, struggling to tug his shoes off without touching the laces and awkwardly lying on his back, trying to shimmy out of his pants.

Dean stood next to the bed, the several barriers to complete nakedness being his white shirt, singlet and small briefs.

Jerry looked up at him, speechless. This bronzed adonis was standing calmly over him, having reduced him to a person incapable of even the most basic human task of undressing. Even though Dean was still mostly clothed, it was obscene the way his erection was tenting his briefs. Jerry’s gaze tracked lower to his thighs. Jerry could have written entire sonnets about those strong, toned thighs. It was a good thing that his view from the bed cut off at Dean’s knees or the mere sight of his calves would surely have rendered him incoherent.

Jerry was still struggling to remove his dress trousers over his shoes, having abandoned his attempts to kick them off in the first place. Dean chuckled at him.

“Let me help you there.”

Jerry laid back, beaming up at him. His open, happy face was one Dean could stand to wake up next to for the rest of his natural life.

Dean pulled the legs of Jerry’s trousers back up over his shoes, untying the laces and taking off his socks. He then removed Jerry’s trousers easily, laying them tidily over the back of a chair. When he returned to the bed, he saw Jerry had gotten rid of his jacket and tie and was fumbling with his shirt cuffs.

Dean unbuttoned his own as he sat down close to Jerry. Jerry was cross legged on the bed, his shirt tails protecting his modesty. Discarding his own shirt, Dean knelt in front of him and reached his hand up behind Jerry’s head to draw him into a kiss. As Jerry reached both arms out to wrap around him, Dean gently manoeuvred him backwards, covering Jerry’s body with his own.

Dean was taking most of his own weight on his left elbow, while caressing Jerry’s face with his right hand. Jerry’s body was the perfect length. He was able to kiss him soundly while subtly grinding against the hardness of Jerry’s generous erection.

Jerry’s hips were making short, aborted thrusts against him, each one accompanied by the most delicious, helpless noise.

Dean lifted his head to gaze once again at his partner. His zany, genius, impossible partner. He had wanted this for so long and had to take a moment to appreciate the man in his arms. He didn’t want to rush this.

Jerry’s soft lips were parted. Dean could feel a gentle gust of breath each time he exhaled. Holding Jerry’s face still with his hand, he ran his thumb slowly over his mouth. Dean dragged his thumb gently over Jerry’s full lower lip, pulling it down slowly and watching it spring back into place.

Jerry’s eyes were closed in pleasure, and Dean couldn’t help leaning forward to kiss his eyelids.

Dean watched as Jerry’s eyes fluttered open. His breath hitched as the light caught those beautiful, expressive hazel eyes. Those eyes that were so filled with love that Dean sometimes found it hard to meet them.

Dean closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

He felt a knock to his jaw. Jerry had chucked him softly on the chin. “You still in there, bubbe?”

Dean leaned down and kissed the centre of Jerry’s forehead.

He kissed Jerry on the nose and both cheeks, before licking a stripe up the side of his face from his chin to his ear.

Jerry squirmed, but Dean could feel his cock twitch against his own. “You like that?”

“Yeah.” Jerry answered somewhat self-consciously.

“You want me to do that anywhere else?”

Jerry’s mouth opened, slack, and all of a sudden he was lost for words.

“It’s alright pally, I’ll look after you. We won’t do anything you’re not ready for.”

Jerry might have claimed extensive experience, but Dean had an inkling that he hadn’t been in this particular situation before. One where he had an attentive partner and no need to rush. One where he could take everything at his own pace.

“You really want to – to do that?” Jerry’s eyes opened wider in astonishment. It was as if no-one had considered his pleasure above their own before. His fingers clutched at the sides of Dean’s singlet.

Dean trailed his hand up Jerry’s thigh, brushing over his cock, still contained in his briefs. He felt Jerry’s body shiver beneath him. Dean had never wanted anything more in his life.

“Oh yes.” Dean kissed Jerry again, unable to get enough of his mouth.

Dean’s lips tingled with each brush of Jerry’s. He couldn’t stop kissing him, running his hand over Jerry’s hip again and again in circles ever inching closer to his cock.

Jerry broke the kiss, panting. “I think this might be over very quickly if you try something like that, Dean.”

Dean chuckled kindly, “For me as well, kid.”

Jerry pulled at Dean’s singlet, encouraging him closer to recapture his lips in a kiss.

Jerry’s lips were so full. Dean was captivated by how they felt under his lips and tongue, how they yielded to him. He bit the lower one gently, feeling it give under his teeth. Jerry’s moans were affecting him strongly, bringing him to full hardness.

Dean had to break for air, and moved his head back a little to see Jerry properly. Jerry’s hair was satisfyingly mussed for such a short cut. His eyes were wild, the pupils expanded so far there was only a sliver of iris visible. His lips were red and slightly swollen, parted to make way for his heavy breaths.

Dean had never seen a sight more enticing.

“God, you're lovely,” he mused aloud, shaking his head gently in wonder.

Jerry blushed and cast his eyes downwards in an unexpected display of shyness. Dean moved his hand to Jerry’s chin, lifting it so he could bestow a soft kiss on those gorgeous, full lips.

Pulling back again, Dean saw Jerry’s face cracking a smile so full of relaxed joy that his heart sang. Dean’s hand crept up to the buttons of Jerry’s shirt. He played with the top one, flicking it in and out of the buttonhole.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh.” Jerry’s breathless response surprised Dean.

Dean’s fingers suddenly trembled on the button. He had to pull himself together or this could end up being a train wreck.

He focussed intently, undoing the buttons of Jerry’s shirt one by one. It was a lot slower going than when he’d undone his own a short time ago. Dean was only just able to restrain himself from ripping off the shirt in frustration.

He felt Jerry’s hand cover his after he finished the last button. Jerry pulled his hand up to his face to kiss it. He opened his palm and Jerry turned his face into it. He stroked Jerry’s face, fingers running along under his jawline.

Dean helped Jerry sit up slightly to be able to remove his shirt. After the shirt was gone, Jerry practically tore off his singlet, throwing it unceremoniously at the chair on which Dean had placed his carefully folded trousers.

Jerry flashed him a goofy grin and tackled him to the bed. Suddenly Dean was gazing up at him. Jerry’s eyes were bright and had that manic look in them, the look that indicated he might do just about anything.

At least they were finally in a place where that would be okay.

Dean placed his hands at Jerry’s waist. He could nearly wrap them around it. He rubbed his thumbs against the divots above his hip bones and Jerry’s eyes closed in pleasure.

Dean watched as Jerry slowly blinked his eyes open. He couldn’t work out quite what he’d done to deserve this passionate, intelligent, kind, warm being in his arms. He did know that he couldn’t see a life for himself without Jerry in it.

Jerry leaned forward over him and Dean moved his hands to his chest, propping Jerry up. Jerry craned his head forward to try to reach Dean.

Dean giggled, “What are you after there, boy?”

“I want –“ Jerry struggled against him, trying to use his entire body weight to get closer to Dean. Dean wasn’t budging, just holding Jerry in midair above him.

“Let me down, Dean. I just wanna be close to you.” Jerry’s pout could have warmed the coldest heart, and Dean’s heart was anything but cold. He slowly lowered Jerry so they were chest to chest and wrapped his arms around him.

Jerry started peppering his face with kisses, mapping it out entirely with his lips. He ran his lips over every part of Dean he could reach, using them as a substitute for sight.

It was driving Dean wild.

As much as Dean wanted to taste every inch of Jerry, the thought of Jerry’s mouth around him was one that had kept him up many nights, trying and failing to get to sleep. On those nights, a cold shower and a six ounce glass of bourbon was the only thing to succeed in allowing him to succumb to sleep.

He felt Jerry’s hands tugging at his singlet, still tucked into his shorts. Jerry rolled off him for a moment so he could strip. His singlet, shorts and underpants joined the assortment of clothes haphazardly arranged on the chair. Jerry shucked his own underwear, his aim wildly missing its target, landing them in the ice-bucket with the champagne.

Suddenly Jerry’s hands were everywhere. Smoothing over his chest, skating up his flanks, his thumb brushed a nipple and Dean sucked in an unexpected breath.

“You like that, bubbe?”

“M’hmm,” Dean stilled Jerry’s movements with his hands. He wasn’t going to let on that he was nervous, but Jerry’s ministrations were overwhelming. “Slow down, Jer.”

Jerry buried his face in Dean’s neck, inhaling. It was something Dean noticed he did quite often to calm himself. He felt the familiar press of lips to the sensitive skin behind his ear and let out a groan. The relief of being able to groan at that exquisite sensation after years of having to suppress it was indescribable. So often, Jerry would stroke, or kiss, or even exhale against it, and every time Dean would have to keep quiet, curb his reaction. He suspected that on some level Jerry had known this.

Dean stroked a hand down Jerry’s back, following the curve of his spine down to his generous ass. He gave it a squeeze and felt the air rush past his neck as Jerry huffed out a laugh.

He traversed his other hand down, grasping Jerry’s ass with both hands, and pulling him closer. Their cocks slid together, and Dean felt the ripple of Jerry’s pectoral and abdominal muscles contracting against him.

Jerry moaned into his neck, and pushed back against his hands, sliding his cock back away from Dean’s. Dean pulled him closer again and they settled into a slow, sensual rhythm.

Jerry’s head moved back away from Dean’s as he lengthened his spine, pressing his hands into the bed either side of Dean’s chest and pushing himself up to get more leverage. Dean looked down between their bodies to see their cocks sliding together and let out a bone-deep groan.

He felt Jerry shudder against him, and looked up at his face to see his eyes glued to the place where they were connected.

Dean saw Jerry’s eyes trailing up his body to lock with his own, arresting his gaze. Dean watched in slow motion as Jerry’s face moved towards him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

Dean lifted a hand to settle at the base of Jerry’s skull, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. The other hand he wrapped around Jerry’s waist, holding him close in a hug.

“Dean?” Jerry asked, his voice quiet.

“What is it, Jer?”

“I don’t think I’m going to last very long, boy. Every time I see your face, I nearly lose it.”

“I know what you mean.” Dean sighed understandingly and held Jerry tighter. “I’ve got an idea, Jer.”


“Roll over.”

Jerry didn’t hesitate to comply and that sent a bolt of lust right down Dean’s spine. Jerry was constantly pushing limits out in the real world, but here it seemed he belonged completely to Dean.

Jerry settled on his side, one arm behind him, clutching at Dean’s hip for reassurance. Dean slid his arm to pillow under Jerry’s head and felt Jerry smiling contentedly against his bicep. He flexed and felt the shudder of a giggle pass through Jerry.

“You sure are strong, boy.”

“You have no idea.” Dean replied. The sheer moral fortitude he was displaying at that moment by not succumbing to the urge to finish himself off against Jerry’s delicious ass was practically deific.

He brought his hand up to Jerry’s mouth. “Can you lick it? Get it wet for me?”

The enthusiasm with which Jerry took to that task was astounding. In seconds, Dean kissed the back of his head softly with a quiet, “That’s enough.”

He brought his hand down to wrap around Jerry’s cock. He heard the strangled sound that Jerry made, and watched as his head tilted forwards. Dean knew Jerry wouldn’t be able to resist seeing his hand wrapped his cock. It might have been a dirty trick, but they really weren’t going to last long.

Dean used the lubrication provided by Jerry’s mouth, along with his precome to slide his hand easily up and down Jerry’s length. It surprised him how similar it felt to masturbation.

He could feel Jerry’s body shuddering against him and hear the soft moans he was letting out with each twist Dean made around the head. The muscle memory may have been kicking in with the actions of his hand, but it didn’t escape Dean’s notice that it was Jerry’s cock that his hand was wrapped around. It was Jerry who he was driving to climax. Dean was panting into the nape of Jerry’s neck. Unwittingly, each hot puff of air was driving Jerry further onwards towards his completion.

Dean’s cock was pressed between their bodies, right up against Jerry’s ass. It was full and firm and round. Nothing like what the rest of him would suggest. Dean pressed forwards, a tacit promise of things to come and Jerry shuddered against him.

“You like that?” Dean asked.

“Hnng,” Jerry replied eloquently.

Oh God, Jerry!” Dean exclaimed. Jerry had arched his back, grinding his ass against Dean’s cock, sliding it along the crease and Dean nearly came then and there.

Dean surged up against Jerry’s body, craning his head around his neck to bite at his earlobe.

“I’ve had another idea. You interested?” Dean asked, again teasing his cock against Jerry.

Jerry was audibly breathless, “Yeah, I am.”

Dean slowed his right hand on Jerry’s cock to a torturous pace. “Good boy. Okay, hold on one second.”

Dean jumped off the bed to the dresser and got out a jar of lubricant. Spit wasn’t the best for this sort of thing, and he didn’t want either of them to be raw in the morning. He seized the opportunity to take a good look back at Jerry. He was laid out against the sheets watching Dean, his cock standing proud as he gently batted it from side to side with his hands, making Dean laugh.

Dean threw the jar down next to him and jumped on the bed, resuming his position pressed up against Jer’s ass. He gave into the temptation to roll his hips a couple of times against Jerry before unscrewing the jar and scooping some of the contents into his hand. He quickly stroked Jerry once, coating him, and then did the same to himself, before sliding his hand between Jerry’s legs.

As his palm caressed Jerry’s inner thigh, Dean couldn’t help taking a moment.

Dean pressed his forehead to the back of Jerry’s head as his fingers teased between Jerry’s legs. Jerry was so smooth and soft, where Dean knew his hand would be rough to the touch. He felt Jerry shivering in his arms and pressed a kiss into his hair.

Jerry was perfection, and that he was allowing Dean to do this - Dean swallowed against the emotion caught in his throat.

Jerry moaned as Dean dragged his hand back through his legs. Although Dean’s hand mourned the loss of them, he bit his lip, knowing that soon all of that wetness, warmth and softness was to be around his cock.

Jerry’s thighs were trembling as Dean removed his fingers.

He looked down to line up his cock between them and his heart almost stopped. The backs of Jerry’s thighs were glistening and flushed a dark pink from all the attention. Dean nudged them together, lined up and pushed forward.

The first thrust was pure bliss. Those silken thighs gripped him instinctively, tighter than a fist, and with a wiry strength that belied Jerry’s lean form.

Dean reached around to grab hold of Jerry’s cock and found that position already taken by Jerry’s own hand. He grabbed hold of the base of his own cock to squeeze gently.

“One day, Jer. I’m going to fuck you here.” On that last word, Dean slid his cock out from between Jerry’s thighs and up, pausing with the tip just outside Jerry’s entrance. He was applying pressure but with no threat of pushing in.

Jerry shuddered again. “Do it.”

“Not tonight.” Dean’s tone was firm although he desperately wanted to. Jerry was pushing back against him. But there would be days and weeks and years of this to come. He was so close, and knew the chances of him being able to deliver a decent and enduring performance were very slim. Sure, Jerry had said he had had experiences, but he’d never had Dean, and Dean was not going to be guilty of giving any less than his best.

Dean slid his cock up against Jerry’s ass one last time. The sensations on the underside of his head were exquisite.

He repositioned between Jerry’s thighs and started thrusting. Reaching his arm around Jerry, he batted his hand away, taking hold of his length and stroking him in counterpoint to his thrusts.

His right hand was on autopilot, lying front to back with Jerry. It was a simple matter of the familiar fast descent and squeeze, slow pull and drag, swiping his thumb over the tip to collect the moisture gathered there and aid the return journey to the base.

Jerry’s moans were getting to him. The kid was usually loud, but this was something else. Each stroke seemed to wring a distinct cry from him, and every time he thrust between Jerry’s thighs there was a bone-deep groan that came from the body against him.

Dean was getting close. His mouth found Jerry’s shoulder and he just had to kiss it. The slim joint rolled against his mouth and he bit down on what little meat was on it. Jerry’s hips stuttered and his thighs started to shake, causing what little mental faculty Dean possessed to utterly desert him.

“Oh, Dean.” Jerry’s voice was higher. His moans had given way to breathy gasps. Dean could feel them through his chest.

Dean kept his hand near the head of Jerry’s cock, speeding up his strokes and squeezing harder, giving it a little twist at the end, the way he usually did to himself.

Jerry’s legs were still shaking, and Dean couldn’t stand it anymore. With a rumbling roar, he was coming between Jerry’s thighs, painting them with white ropes of come while Jerry spurted through his open fist, soiling the sheets and his own front, from stomach to chin.

Catching their breath, they both rolled on their backs. Dean immediately insinuated an arm underneath Jerry’s head, and Jerry curled in to cuddle up against Dean’s chest.

His hand dropped down to Dean’s cock, picking it up curiously and moving it back and forth.

“Do you not want to have a rest, kid?”

“I’ve not held it before.”

“It’s not terribly worth holding right now, pally.”

Jerry bent his body in half, leaning his head down and kissing the tip.

“You’re always worth holding, Dean.”

Dean hauled Jerry up by his armpits to lie alongside him and Jerry’s face met his, lips already puckered, waiting for a kiss.

“Do you know something, Dean?”

“What is that, Jer?”

“Your cock is exactly the same color as your lips.” Jerry let out a tremendous cackle at that, almost deafening Dean. Dean smiled at him indulgently.

“Is that so?” he said, his tone playful and amused.


They enjoyed a couple of moments of silence, but Jerry had that bouncing air that indicated he was desperate to say something.

“What is it, kid?”

“I really liked this, tonight.”

“Me too, pal.”

“And I really like you as well.”

“I really like you, Jerry.”

“Would it be – could we - ?”

“What is it? What are you trying to say?” Dean rubbed what he hoped to be a comforting circle on Jerry’s upper back.

“Do you wanna go steady?”

“You mean not see other girls?”

“Yeah, like you can see your wife, but not, you know, other girls.”

To be honest, given Jerry’s sex drive, Dean was unsure it was a promise he’d be physically able to keep, but he felt like humoring him. Besides, it was the sentiment of the offer that mattered.

“Sure, Jerry.” Dean paused. “Now Jerry…”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you mind if we put our heads down and have a little sleep now?”

“That sounds real nice.”

“Good.” Dean shut his eyes and felt Jerry rise up, pulling the sheet at their feet up over them. Jerry settled against him and he could feel the tension drain out of the body at his side.

Jerry’s cheek was pressed against his pectoral muscle, and he could feel it moving as he breathed.

A few moments later he heard a voice, quiet – almost inaudible. Almost like the person talking hadn’t wanted to be heard.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean lifted his arm from Jerry’s back, moving it up to place his hand over the back of his head. He stroked once, then settled his fingers amongst the thick, coarse hair.

“I love you too, Jerry.”