Heart in his throat, Jerry gave the room a once over: door locked, lights out as Dean had requested, the darkness nigh absolute save for the tireless beam of city life nudging in through the part in the curtains. The lambent glow cast strange shadows in the dim space they shared, illuminating its myriad secret corners in such a way that the suite seemed to be quietly shifting shape around them. It lent an eerie quality to an atmosphere that was, at least for Jerry himself, already bordering heavily on the surreal.
He looked up at Dean's silhouette perched on the edge of the bed. Jerry heard him inhale deeply, watched the brilliant red eye of his cigarette swell with the force of the drag and die down again. Dean's eyes never left his face. Anxiety welled in Jerry then and he felt the sudden urge to keep his hands busy, to straighten up the dresser and fidget with the nightstand, to pad his fingers up and down the wallpaper in search of any open seams—the proverbial suitor hammering out the final imperfections in the bridechamber. Somewhere inside he wanted, desperately, to jump out the window.
But Dean knew him well by now.
"Jer," came that handsome voice through the dark. Jerry froze, his limbs filling with something heavy and sweet even as his stomach threatened to plummet to the floor. Dean had the kind of voice that could command armies and lull children to sleep in the same breath if he wanted. Jerry was enthralled by it, as much in love with its silken, lazy tones and beckoning warmth as with the man himself.
"Paul?" Jerry answered tentatively.
"Quit fussing," Dean said. "Get over here."
Jerry swallowed hard and obeyed, crossing the room carefully and stopping just sort of the invisible boundary at Dean's feet. It wasn't out of fear, necessarily—he trusted Dean implicitly. But for all his partner's grace and easy humor the man was still a formidable tome, full of fine print and contradictory statements that defied scrutiny even for those who loved him well. He looked into Dean's eyes glittering in the dark and stood his ground, needing no words to convey that between them lay their last chance to back out before everything changed.
If he's gonna turn tail, Jerry thought sorrowfully, then let it be now. Please, let it be now, while there's still time for him to get away and pretend none of this ever happened. Just not when I've got him in my arms. Not when my heart's quivering in his hands, all my life's blood running out through his fingers to stain the sheets where he claimed me, breached me, made me his. Definitely not then. Because I don't know if I could handle it. I don't know if I could stand to let him go.
Several moments passed, during which Dean popped in a fresh cigarette. Finally, he spoke up: "You having second thoughts or what, kid?"
His voice betrayed no uncertainty, but that didn't mean anything.
"Guess that depends on you," Jerry replied.
Dean sighed. "Look, Jer..."
Jerry held his breath.
"This is all new to me, okay? This... whole thing," Dean said. "I've never done... never with another fella before. I'm no good at explaining myself, but just try and give me a chance here, huh? Have some faith in me. Now c'mere."
When Jerry still did not move, Dean leaned forward and took his hand, tugging gently but firmly until his partner's hesitant steps closed the space between them. The imaginary threshold crossed, Jerry stood before his partner in breathless anticipation.
"Well come on, sit down," Dean urged, pulling him into his lap. Their hips connected roughly and Jer let out a little oof. Jerry himself was dressed in an undershirt and boxer shorts, while Dean had little more than a bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Jer could almost feel Dean's heat seeping through the layers of cotton separating the two of them. Suddenly one of Dean's large, capable hands reached around to settle protectively on the small of his back. Jer reached out instinctively to plant his hands on Dean's bare chest, steadying himself. Dean's slow, strong heartbeat thudded reassuringly against his palms.
"Here now, this oughta help settle your nerves," Dean said. "Open up." Jerry swallowed, parting his lips obediently while Dean took a long, grateful drag on his cigarette. He turned back to him and leaned forward, wisps of smoke seeping from the corners of his mouth as he lightly pressed their lips together and sighed, passing it on, pushing it in. Jerry closed his eyes and inhaled the offering with a little gasp, his arms winding loosely around Dean's neck. When it was done he felt Dean pull back minutely and opened his eyes, his heart leaping to find the man gazing up at him from beneath his lashes, that lazy, show-stopping smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"Alright, kid?" Dean asked softly. Jerry nodded once and lunged forward to capture Dean's mouth in a real kiss. Dean grunted in surprise but returned it, the fingers of his free hand reaching up to rake possessively through his partner's hair. Jerry moaned, his tongue pushing in to move against Dean's, and he'd almost gotten his hands around the towel at his waist when Dean gently grasped his wrists, pulling away to look him in the eyes. Jerry panted, his face burning with arousal and outrage all at once.
"Whoa, ey. Easy there, baby," Dean said, pressing a placating kiss to the side of his neck. Jerry huffed. "Easy. I know you're excited, but there's no need to rush. We can take our time — we got all night, you know."
With great reluctance, Jerry nodded. Dean wound his arms around Jerry's waist and pulled him closer, held him tight.
"It’s okay," Dean whispered against his throat. His tongue darted out to lick a slow, wet stripe over Jerry's Adam's apple. He blew on it gently, and the resulting shiver went straight to Jerry's dick. Calloused fingers caressed his cheek.
"It’s okay," Dean said again. "I’m here, I’ve got you. I just need you to be patient, alright? I need you to trust me. Drop the reins and give those wild horses a rest for once. I’m not gonna leave you twisting in the wind."
There's no one I trust more in this world, Jerry thought. I just... Dean kissed his lips again and warmth flared in Jerry's heart like tinder. His doubts turned to ash.
Oh, he wanted to cry out. Oh, I love you. I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you. Be with me. Stay with me. Please never ever leave.
Dean moved to roll them both over onto the bed and Jerry sighed into his mouth, the reins relinquished and the horses far afield.
The towel fell away with a gentle thud over the side of the bed. Dean was straddling him now, nude and beautiful and deliciously hard. He chuckled at what must have been a comical mix of hunger and awe on Jerry's face.
"Like what you see?" Dean murmured, running a thumb over the dip in Jerry’s chin. It took Jerry a moment to gather his wits enough to form a coherent response.
"Yeah," he said finally, wincing at the crack in his voice. "God, yeah. Paul, you're—"
Dean leaned down to nuzzle his neck. His hard-on brushed Jerry's stomach, still sheathed in the undershirt. "What, babe? What about me?" he whispered. Jerry squirmed beneath him.
"A goddamned tease for one," the Idiot answered. Dean snickered, a puff of warm breath over the shell of his ear. "Any reason I gotta stay wrapped up in cotton blends down here while you fuck around like some casanova at a Roman bathhouse, ya greaseball?"
"I told you—" Dean managed through his laughter. He cleared his throat, tried again. "I told you, Jer. I wanna take my time." He hooked a finger under the shoulder band of Jerry's undershirt, stroked the soft fabric with a thumb. "Like unwrapping a present, right? Wait only makes it sweeter. This isn't just some—" Dean's words seemed to catch in his throat. He shook his head and looked away.
Not just some meaningless schtup, that what you were gonna say? Jerry thought sadly. That there's something deeper going on here, something two wives and a parade of nameless, fawning beauties still haven't been able to give you? Oh, Paul, I believe you. I wanna believe you.
Jerry gasped sharply as Dean got to work on his undershirt. He rolled it back slowly to reveal the taut belly, the dark forest of chest hair, the pink nipples that tightened in the sudden draft. He stopped once the shirt was shucked up to Jerry’s armpits and sat back in silence, gazing down at him with a tender expression. Jerry raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself, then up at Dean, then down at himself again.
“What, you were expectin’ tits or something?” he cracked. Dean snickered but didn’t miss a beat.
“Nah. Just wondering how you been holding up since the accident. How'd it happen?”
Jerry gaped in mock outrage. “Oh! Oho, that’s rich! You’re real funny, boy! A regular wise guy. You oughta do it for a living!”
Dean giggled and reached down to toy with Jerry’s nipple, tweaking it curiously between thumb and forefinger. Several moments passed, and his expression became thoughtful. Finally, he murmured:
"I don't know what it is about you, Jer." Dean ran his hand down Jerry’s chest as he spoke, stroking past his belly and up again in quiet appreciation. "But you sure are nice to look at, you know that? Pretty as a picture. Seeing you like this... a fella could get used to it.”
I’m yours, Jerry wanted to say. But something told him that wouldn’t do just now.
“You really mean that, bubbe?” he asked instead. Suddenly he was feeling absurdly self-conscious. Joyful tears stung behind his eyes.
Dean smiled and settled his hand over the bulge tenting Jerry’s underwear. He gave it a squeeze and grinned wider at his partner’s hiss of pleasure.
“I mean it,” he said.
“Wait. Wait a minute, Paul.”
Dean had kissed a trail from the tip of Jerry’s nose to the root of his belly, fingers hooked in the waistband of the boxers he had been inching off Jerry’s hips with agonizing deliberation. Dean paused and looked up from his task, brow furrowed.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m… I wanna try something.”
Dean sat back on his heels and cocked his head as Jer pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Oh yeah?”
“I’m all ears.”
Jerry swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. He took a deep breath and said:
“Think I wanna suck you off, Paul.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. You mean you’d actually—?”
“It’s fine if you don’t like I should do that,” Jerry added hastily, his face burning. “I just—“
Dean chuckled. “You just what, Jer?”
“I just… I wanna fill my mouth with you. Taste you, make you feel good.” Jerry buried his face in his hands. “I really, really want to, Paul.”
You schmuck, his inner voice cried. You promised to let Dean have control, to let Dean have his way tonight! Now you’ve gone and derailed the whole—
Dean leaned back on his hands and let his head loll to the side, studying him. Then he sighed and shook his head fondly.
“For as long as you’ve known me, Jer…” He let those muscular legs of his fall apart, stunning erection poised proud and eager between the two of them. Jerry could only stare at it, his mouth watering. “After all the necking and schmoozing we’ve done in this room tonight... you really think I’m about to turn down a blowjob? At a time like this?” Dean dropped his gaze Jerry’s mouth, his eyes heavy lidded and glazed with desire. He reached out to trace the curve of his bottom lip with a thumb. “Just what do you take me for, anyway?”
Jerry grinned. “You want an honest answer to that?”
“A smokin’ hot dago with the voice of an angel who’s about to swear off dames forever…?”
Dean barked a laugh and settled back on his elbows. Beckoned to his partner with an indulgent nod.
“Alright, babe. Sure. Better make it lovely.”
For all that comedy was his bread and butter, Jerry had always prided himself in his talent for finding beauty in the mundane. It was everywhere to him, in everyone and everything, and he welcomed it in whatever form it chose to take. The love of that beauty was his drive and its ecstasy ruled him as a willing slave.
Beauty was everywhere, in everything. And the most precious of all lay beneath him now, arching and moaning for him, because of him. Fucking leisurely into the heat of his mouth.
He doubted there were many things left on Earth now that could electrify him quite like that first breathless moment, when Jerry had gripped the base of Dean's cock and closed his lips around the head. Dean had made a sound like the wind being knocked out of him and as Jerry took him deeper, sighed and whispered: "Oh god, Jer. That's...oh..."
Years of pining, of kisses stolen half-jokingly onstage before riotous crowds, of jerking off in secret in the middle of the night to the memory of those eyes, those arms, that face, that glorious body slumbering just feet away in the next bed… and now, against everything he ever believed possible, here he was with Dean Martin inside of him. Who’da thought?
Jerry relaxed his throat and took Dean to the root, paused, and slowly drew back up. He did it once more, sucking experimentally. After a moment he pulled off to nuzzle curiously at Dean's balls, hot and dusky and heavy with seed and exuding a heady, masculine scent he could’ve drowned in. Jerry moaned and breathed it in deep, committing it to memory. When he flicked his tongue against the sac it was as if Dean had been administered an electric shock, he bolted upright so quickly. His hands flew up to grip the back of his partner’s head as Jerry licked slowly along the shaft and traced the delicate ridge of the glans with his tongue, before drawing him fully back into his mouth with an impassioned whine.
"Jesus," Dean ground out above him. Jerry could hear the lazy grin in his voice. "Jesus, Jer."
Jerry quickened his pace, cheeks hollowing with the suction. His head bobbed faster and faster, his hand jacked him skillfully. The wet, beautifully obscene sounds of Jerry's mouth on his cock echoing in tandem with Dean's increasingly desperate moans were nearly enough to send Jerry over the edge. But suddenly Dean's hands were on his face, stalling him, then guiding him up and off with an audible pop.
Jerry sat back and wiped the spit from his swollen lips. Dean lay back on his elbows, head lolling back and his chest heaving. His cock glistened, shiny wet from Jerry’s mouth and still beautifully, maddeningly hard.
Dean held up a hand. "Not just yet," he murmured. "Don't wanna come yet. Need a few minutes.” He raised his head, looking pleased and even a little astonished. “But not bad, babe. And here I was, thinking those big pretty lips were just for show. Serves me right, I guess."
Jerry waved a hand, feeling very pleased with himself indeed. "Ah, well. What can I say," he bragged. "I've had some practice."
Something inexplicable crossed Dean's face at that, but it was gone in an instant. He laughed once. "That a fact?"
Jerry shrugged. "Well, sure. I mean it's not really a surprise, is it? I'm human."
Dean's eyes flicked over him thoughtfully, but he said nothing.
"You alright, bubbe...?" Jerry asked after a moment.
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
Dean gave a small smile that didn't meet his eyes. Jerry cocked his head as realization slowly dawned.
Is he—? Paul... are you jealous?