Title: Arriving
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@earthlink.net)
Date: 4/25/05
Rating: NC-17 (-ish)
Authors notes: Unbeta'd. Don't own them, don't want to, don't want a fight wth the big boys. Feedback is more than welcome and can be sent to phobosgirl@earthlink.net
Disclaimer: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5
Complete: yes


Arriving

The little fucker is going to make me wreck the car. He asks me if I know what he wants and then before I can answer, he tells me in that harsh, whispery voice he knows makes me crazy and hot.

“Your cock shoved down my throat while I finger you.”

Christ.

I've been stewing over the rehearsal dinner we just left. Very un-Kinney-like, yeah, but what the fuck? Maybe I'm mellowing in my old age. The thought nearly makes me gag.

I know they’re all worried about our little announcement. They were expecting a wedding, wanting one, because in their minds it’s the only guarantee of a happily ever after. I’m an ad man, I know that guarantees are bullshit; you only give them when you think your product might be for shit. And this product, this thing Justin and I have, that’s the real deal.

They think he’s leaving for good, without me. And I’m not blind, I saw the stunned disbelief in their eyes when I told them all how much I love him. How I’ll never give him up again. The room filled with skepticism and I guess I can't blame them. How many times have Justin and I have broken up, only to get back together again? Why should they believe this separation is any different?

But then his hand lands in my lap, bringing me back to the present, and the little twat whispers things, things that make my sight go dim and the blood pound in my ears.

They may not understand, him leaving, me staying. But who gives a fuck? We understand.

His hand starts moving. No more than a tease. Just pressure against me, and rubbing the denim over the head of my cock in small circles. Enough to keep me hard, enough to make me want to fuck his brains out before the car even comes to a stop. It’s more than this between us, we know that, so much more than a mind-blowing fuck. Who're you kidding, Kinney? Thousands of mind-blowing fucks. It's more than the wet, dirty things he’s hissing into my ear while my hands shake on the steering wheel and I fight the urge to close my eyes so I can block out everything and just feel and hear him. It’s more than this.

It’s time, a shared history, the hardships we've weathered, persistence (mostly his, admittedly); it's holding on and letting go and then never letting go again. It’s finding independence in being together and knowing that when he leaves, he isn’t leaving me. That he’ll never leave me again. That he'll never be left.

And before we arrive at our new place, to a house that’s dark because we’ve only brought one lamp with us, a house that has a futon on the floor for sleeping and half a bottle of water in the fridge and a crack in the living room ceiling that needs repairing, before we get home, I’m already panting his name.

They really don’t have to understand. Because we do.

The End