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Jensen and Jeff are both tops.
That sounds like it might be a problem, but it really never has been. For the first few months, first year really, their sexual relationship had consisted solely of handjobs and the occasional blowjob, rubbing up against each other with Jeff's huge hand wrapped around both their dicks and Jensen's fingers curled into the soft flesh of Jeff's ass and shoulders, legs slotted together and mouths locked onto jaws and earlobes and the vulnerable skin over long, smooth necks.
And they've both been completely, entirely satisfied.
For the most part.
They both remembered what it was like, of course. To sink into someone, to feel their walls close up around your rock-hard cock, squeeze you tight and warm, pull you in deeper. To feel someone clench around you, tighter and tighter as they got closer, feel every single twitch and twist and jerk of their hips right through your cock. To be completely surrounded by someone, to become a part of them, to be inside. Not to take anything away from the sex they did have (which was never anything less than terrific), but they both remembered and they both missed it something fierce, of course they did.
They missed it so much that they tried. More than once, they tried, took turns letting each other inside. Jensen wanted Jeff to be happy, Jeff wanted the same for Jensen, so what was the harm in giving it a shot, right? The worst that could happen would be some really bad sex and they'd never have to try it again.
Jeff went slow when he was on top, opened Jensen up carefully on his lube-slick fingers before sinking in, slow and easy. Jensen did manage to get hard after a while, came with Jeff's fingers curled around his dick but even after the second and third times, it still felt like a chore. Like a favour he was doing for Jeff and Jeff didn't want that, wanted Jensen happy in their sex life (as well as their entire relationship) not just complacent.
When it was Jensen's turn though, he just fucking went for it. He was pretty sure it was going to be his only shot, that first time and he didn't want to waste it being slow and gentle only to have Jeff pussy out before the main event.
Jeff wasn't hard, when it happened. He didn't get hard, not even a little. He winced slightly, made a face and then smiled, looked up at Jensen and put his hands on Jensen's back and tilted his hips, urged Jensen on. Jensen had blinked, remembers even now how shocked he was by that but he wasn't about to turn it down. He'd kept on going, drowning himself in the feeling of filling someone up and every once in a while, when his eyes skittered down Jeff's sculpted chest, past the soft flesh of his belly to his flaccid, useless cock, Jensen's own cock would jerk and twitch and spurt more and more slick inside Jeff, to ease the way.
Jensen had come like that, staring at it, mesmerised by the way it flopped around, soft and easy with the force of Jensen's thrusts.
He hadn't touched it, once.
And Jeff had turned down the hand that Jensen had (maybe a little less than enthusiastically) offered, once he'd regained enough motor function. Hey, it might not have done anything for Jeff, but Jensen thought it was fan-fucking-tastic.
Jeff let him do it a second time, but the result hadn't been any different and they'd amicably, mutually called that the end of penetrative sex, for the foreseeable future. Possibly forever.
That's not to say they didn't think about it, that Jensen didn't think about it, remember and dream in vivid, surround sound detail about the way Jeff felt around him, how warm and wet and tight he was, how big underneath him, soft and hard in just the right ways and how his cock looked...
Fuck. It was – it still is - the biggest goddamn turn-on Jensen's ever been subject to, pink and small and curled against the slight rounding of his stomach, right underneath the little pouch of fat all men carry when they get to be a certain age. He'd been so used to seeing Jeff hard as nails. It doesn't take much to get his boyfriend worked up – a look, a word from Jensen and he's never been anything but ready to go and seeing him like that, so... pliant, so willing to please... it was a fucking trip.
Not that Jeff isn't always willing to please.
He's older than Jensen, significantly. He makes significantly more money than Jensen and he takes significant pride in the fact that he takes care of his boy, gives him everything he could ever want or need. He's generous, thoughtful and he spoils Jensen rotten. He's wrapped around Jensen's finger and he's the first one to admit it.
But Jeff like that... like that, in bed? It was something Jensen thought he'd never get the chance to see and now that he has, he's damn near obsessed.
Still, he'd tried to put it out of his mind. Jeff hadn't hated it (though neither had Jensen, when he'd been the one getting fucked) but he certainly hadn't liked it and Jensen loves Jeff, doesn't want to force him into something he doesn't enjoy, so he hasn't wanted to push.
That is, until one unassuming Wednesday night, when Jeff was demonstrating some rather stellar mouth work on Jensen's junk, licking and moaning and suckling at the tip. He'd pulled back, looked up at Jensen and said, “fuck, your cock is so pretty, baby. Pretty just like the rest of you. It's too damn bad you don't like getting dicked.”
He'd laughed a little, squeezed Jensen's nuts gently in his palm and nuzzled Jensen's shaft with the side of his face. “Too bad I don't, either.”
“Do it anyway,” Jensen had said, voice gruff and needy and he'd shocked even himself with the words.
He hadn't meant to, honestly he hadn't but dear God, if you've ever had Jeff Morgan between your legs with his lips on your cock, you wouldn't be in full control of what came out of your mouth, either. Jeff had pulled back, sat up a little, tilted his head like he was waiting for Jensen to continue.
“Do it anyway,” Jensen said again, for some unfathomable reason. Seriously, if Jeff ever wants to get Jensen to talk, to confess to turning all his whites pink in the wash or admit that he ate the last of brownies, or that last Halloween Jensen might have gotten really drunk and accidentally made out with the wrong Batman in a dark corner, all he has to do is go down on him. Jensen will spill all his secrets. It's some kind of condition, clearly. “For me. Please?”
Okay, so that might have been playing dirty.
Jeff could never resist Jensen, couldn't ever deny him, especially when he said 'please', but fuck it all, Jensen can't feel bad about that, he really can't.
Jeff didn't have to do it. Jensen hadn't forced him, hadn't drugged him, hadn't threatened to leave him. He knows, Jeff knows that they're endgame, no matter what. They would have been happily ever after weather they practised anal or not. Because really, is sticking your cock inside someone's ass the ultimate definition of 'sex'? If it is, that's stupid. They've had plenty of sex and they'd still have had plenty of sex, even if Jeff hadn't thrown one leg over Jensen's, crawled up on his lap and said, “Anything for you.”
Jeff rode him that night, worked himself down slowly on Jensen's cock and Jeff stayed soft, like the times before.
Jeff let him do it a few weeks later, too with Jeff on all fours and Jensen behind him, knuckles of Jensen's right hand brushing over Jeff's cock only lightly and frequently enough to feel that he wasn't hard. A week after that again, with Jeff flat on his back and Jensen crouched between his legs and two weeks after that, slow and lazy first thing in the morning with Jensen spooned up behind Jeff on their bed, looking over Jeff's shoulder at the way his quiescent dick bobbed and swayed as Jensen rocked into him.
Before long, it was just about every time they fucked.
It still is.
Jeff never gets hard.
That's understandable, given Jensen never touches his cock. He might, if Jensen did, but Jeff never asks (maybe he's embarrassed, maybe he doesn't want to get off on it) and Jensen certainly never offers.
He settles into the V of Jeff's legs or he watches Jeff bounce around on top of him and it never once crosses his mind that he'd like to see Jeff's dick hard and thick and straight, while he's getting fucked. Jeff's a hot guy. He's getting older and he isn't in quite the shape he was back in the day, but he's devastatingly attractive and Jensen's used to looking his fill of Jeff's body when they're together, touching it, kissing and licking and pinching all over.
And usually, he loves Jeff's hard cock every bit as much the rest of him, loves how it feels in his fist, loves how it tastes, loves how it pulses and jerks when he shoots his load.
But lately when they fuck, all he can see is Jeff's cock. The way it curls and shrinks, how it starts out longer and semi-rigid, but when Jeff gets into position, when it's clear he's getting fucked and not blown or jerked off how it almost shrinks in on itself. Like it has a mind of it's own, it's thinking... 'Sex? Hell yeah, I'm... oh, wait. Sex, yeah, no thanks'.
As bad as he feels for Jeff, it's a rush. It's glorious. Watching his cock bounce around, watching how it bends and curls and flits from side to side when Jeff's on top, or how it jerks and bounces when Jensen is, how soft and unassuming it looks, always... Jensen gets hard just thinking about it.
Again, Jensen does feel bad. He plies Jeff with dirty, dirty kisses and blow jobs to rival a high-end porno, after. Sometimes before and after. Sometimes when he's not fucking Jeff at all, in the shower or when Jensen's fucked him extra hard the day before, he'll get down on his knees and suck Jeff off at the dinner table. Jensen was always good at blow jobs, but lately guilt has driven him to make an art out of them. He figures that's probably half the reason Jeff lets him use his ass the way he does.
“Is it...” Jeff starts, this particular time, breaks off when Jensen's hips lurch forward in a particularly brutal thrust. He circles his hips to watch Jeff's flaccid, helpless prick swing up against his pelvic bone and down again. “Is it that I'm giving you what you want? Or that I'm giving you something I don't want?”
Jensen pauses.
He's never asked before. They've never talked about it before. And honestly, Jensen doesn't really know how to answer that.
Jeff senses his indecision, of course he does and answers for him. “It's both. Right? I know you want to fuck me, but... but it's just that little bit better that I'm only doing it to please you, isn't it?”
It is. Jeff's absolutely right. It totally and completely is but shit, how much of an asshole does that make Jensen? He can't admit that, not out loud.
“No!” Jensen lies, stilling his hips. “Of course not, Jeff. How sick do you think I am?”
“So...” Jeff says, canting his hips a little, curling his body so Jensen sinks in deeper. “So if I got hard right now?”
Jensen panics, pushes down on Jeff's chest with his hand and stares down at Jeff's dick, like he can will to stay soft. Like he's got magic laser vision or some shit.
Jeff laughs.
“I won't, not right now. But not because I can't. I... Jensen I don't like to bottom, that hasn't changed. But I love you enough to want you to be happy. And... yeah, to be honest? It's not as bad I thought it would be.”
And that right there is enough to shake Jensen out of his deer-in-headlights imitation. As I thought it would be. As in...
“You've never bottomed before me?” Jensen's aroused but also incredulous. To know he was Jeff's first is heady, but on the other hand why the hell would Jeff put up such an objection if he didn't know he didn't like it?
Again, Jeff reads his mind.
“I've heard things. But don't get all worked up, I let you fuck me every damn time you asked, didn't I?”
Jensen doesn't need to think about it to know that that's true, that Jeff had been resistant to the idea of bottoming, just like Jensen, but never outright denied him, not once.
“I didn't like it, the first time. Still don't, really. But I could. It's not bad, and I could, if you... if you gave a shit about me liking it.”
Fuck. Just... fuck.
“I... Jeff, fuck. It's not that. It's not that I don't care. You know that, right? You know I want you to like what we do.” He takes Jeff's soft cock into his hand but he doesn't jack it, doesn't do more than cradle it and it doesn't get hard.
“No, you're right,” Jeff says, smiles a crooked smile. “It's not that you don't give a shit, you just actively don't want me to get off.”
Busted.
“I can't...” Jensen closes his eyes, takes a breath and opens them again. “I can't explain it. I don't even know... Shit, I'm fucked up.”
Jeff laughs then, loud and warm, the vibrations wracking Jensen's body where they're connected, flesh pressed to flesh along their entire fronts.
“It's okay, baby,” he says and he really sounds like he means it. “You're not. You like to fuck me when I'm soft. I like to suck on your toes. Everybody has their kinks and as long as all parties are willing, there ain't nothin' wrong with that.”
Jensen blinks, opens his mouth to answer, but he only blinks again.
Jeff cups Jensen's cheek in his palm and draws him in for a kiss.
“Come on,” he urges. “Keep going. Fuck me so I feel it. Make me walk funny tomorrow.”
Jensen nearly chokes on his tongue, but he does as Jeff asks, fucks into him fast, hard and he still has Jeff's languid dick in his loose fist.
“Next time?” he asks, after a minute. “I mean... Sometimes? Is that okay if I get you hard sometimes?”
Jeff smiles up at him, bats his eyes and spreads his legs wider.
Fuck Jeff and his bitchy little faux 'yes master' attitude.
No, no don't do that. Jensen loves that. Jensen loves getting whatever he wants and besides, he knows it's all play. Which is why he goes on.
“I'm gonna get off like fuck on banging you with your hard prick in my hand, darlin'. But not this time.” Jeff whimpers and squirms underneath him when Jensen stabs his cock in sharply and Jensen falters, a little.
“I'll... I'll do things for you, too. Lick your ass, like you like,” even though even Jensen has a hard time getting hard while he does that, but hey, he owes Jeff. “You know, make it even."
Jeff laughs again, loud this time, with his head thrown back.
“Oh, sweet thing,” he says. “It'll never be even. I'm head over heels for you, Jensen. You'll never, not in a million years, love me the way I love you and that's okay. I wouldn't want you to pretend otherwise.”
Jensen's suddenly affronted, but not offended enough to withdraw his cock. In fact, he uses it to fuck Jeff harder.
“I love you, you asshole,” he says, pushing deeper, like he can make Jeff believe him with his dick. “I love you.”
Jeff laughs again, tilts his hips so Jensen rides smoother.
“I know you do,” he says. “I'm not saying you don't love me, I just...”
“You're just happy being my bitch?” Jensen asks, pushing. He half wants Jeff to break, flip them over and ride the fuck out of Jensen, make himself hard and come all over Jensen's stomach, rub it into his skin and show Jensen that he's nobody's bitch. He doesn't, though.
“I always have been,” Jeff says, simply and Jensen starts, because he hadn't seen that coming. It's the truth, they've both known it from the beginning but hearing Jeff say it?
“I want you to get hard,” Jensen says, suddenly knowing it's the truth. Maybe not always, he definitely still wants to watch Jeff little and sagging between his legs more often than not, but there's a certain appeal, one he's only just realising to the idea of Jeff getting off on getting fucked. “Sometimes. I think I might want that.”
Jeff wraps his hand around the back of Jensen's neck, pulls him in close, gently wraps his legs tighter around Jensen's hips. He digs his heels into Jensen's ass and urges him to fill Jeff up, again and again.
That's a new move. That's a good move.
“Jeff,” he gasps, desperate. It feels so good, feels almost too good.
Jeff just keeps on smiling, curls his hips, squeezes and Jensen is lost.
Jeff has the decency to wait, wait until Jensen fills him up with come, wait until Jensen's breathing evens out and he can see straight again, before he takes himself in hand and brings himself off in the space between them, slicking up both their bellies.
Yeah, Jensen's pretty sure he'd like to see that every once in a while with his own hard cock pounding in and out of Jeff's sweet little hole, but for the most part, he's pretty sure that nothing's ever going to get him off again like the sight of Jeff's soft cock.