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andguesswhat · 22 days

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Okay, why the hell not? For the Dune promo, my head had come up with a story about Jack without asking, for various reasons though it never made it completely onto paper.

But now that it's Jack's birthday... I thought maybe I'd just post the beginning as a birthday present… lol

But don’t worry, Jack, it’s rather harmless, I would say.

The shield that you own

Jack grabbed Tim under the arms to hold him better. Even though Tim was as light as a feather, they were all uncontrollably heavy when drunk. Tim giggled at the contact, his head falling heavily onto Jack's shoulder.

"What kind of bodyguard are you? ... Are you trying to tickle me to death? You should know by now that I'm ticklish!" Tim's voice was slurred and mumbling and the tone became childish and provocative, when he continued, "You could carry me...?"

Without responding, Jack dragged Tim further through the hotel room door, half supporting, half pulling, under his arm, around his waist, just where his balance was giving way, while trying not to lose Tim’s jacket that he already had taken off. Of course, he could have carried him instead, this skinny little creature who was nevertheless lighter when drunk than some when sober, but there was more than one reason to avoid it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim curl his lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're never any fun, Jack!"

Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say "Really?" but ignored Tim's comment apart from that as well as Tim's far-too-close lips, from which a whiff of tequila emanated, and concentrated instead on getting Tim to the bed.

They were in Mexico city, a huge premiere of Dune 2 in this huge city had just taken place this evening and the after party hadn't been wild, but it had apparently been enough to make Tim giggle uncontrollably. Sometimes it didn't take much for the adulation of the masses to get him drunk. First the senses were hyped, wide smile, wide eyes, wide talk, than followed giddy drunkenness.

At the bed, Jack let go of Tim so he could fall onto the bed, but Tim didn't let go of him, so Jack toppled over with him. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't catch his whole body, so his face brushed Tim's cheek and his nose buried deep down in those god damn dark curls.

Tim giggled beneath him. And Jack decided to give himself a millisecond. They were familiar with each other, very familiar, also physically, and yet this closeness always did something to him.

The soft tickle of the curls on his skin and the smell of Jamie's hair styling products in his nose made Jack close his eyes for another millisecond.

Then the two milliseconds were over and he sat up again, ignoring the vague tugging in his body, heart as loins, instead lifted Tim's legs onto the bed and set about removing his boots while Tim rolled on the bed and grumbled like a drunken teen.

It wasn't that often that Tim got drunk, but it wasn't the first time either. Jack knew Tim liked the buzz, even if he was too worried to indulge in it too often.

In a fit of energy Tim humped the bed, “Goddd… Austin was looking sex-ayyy tonight, right? Wanted to fuck him right there.”

Jack ignored the comment, pulled on the second boot and placed it next to the bed.

Tim lifted his head and looked at him, "I can't believe you put them on the floor, instead of just letting them fall!" He sounded somehow shocked, admiring and teasing at the same time.

Jack laughed. He liked it when Tim made fun of him, it was always... affectionate.

But then Tim closed his eyes again and Jack could see the buzz working in his head. He let his gaze linger on Tim's face.

The face of an innocent angel. He resisted the impulse to brush a curl of hair from this face. The angel was not meant for him.

It was time to go.

Jack adjusted his jacket, "Do you need anything?" With the last of his strength, Tim straightened up, grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him onto the bed so that Jack ended up lying next to him. "Don't go," Tim's breath hitched against Jack’s face. Again Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so determined that it wouldn't happen again and now he had to admit to himself that he had only deceived himself.

For a while they just lay there, Tim breathing, searching his way through the grogginess, Jack watching him, feeling the gentle ripples of air on his face with every breath Tim took…

When Tim's head carousel seemed to slow down a little, Tim laid his hands on Jack's face. "It was awesome, wasn't it?" His eyes opened briefly before closing again. "All those crowds..." Yes, the fans, the crowds, the masses... Tim loved that. Bathing in the crowd, being admired by the masses. The crowd electrified him, turned him on. Made him horny. And now the thought of it was apparently enough to reawaken his sex drive.

Tim rubbed his crotch lightly against Jack's thigh. An audible gasp.

Jack bit his lower lip. Then another rub.

Tim's breathing a little louder this time, Tim's cock noticeably harder.

The desire spread through Tim's tired body, waking him up, making him more alert and horny by the second until it finally took over. Tim swung himself over Jack, propped himself up with his hands to the right and left of Jack, his head lowered, his curls in free fall, and looked at him with a glazed expression. He looked so beautiful, so hot. Jack couldn't say it any other way. It wasn't his fault he was getting weak. Tim lowered his pelvis, rubbing against his, pressing their hard cocks together. Almost automatically Jack went to Tim's cock, squeezed it through his pants and Tim groaned. Jack knew what this was all about, what Tim wanted. And even if Jack didn't necessarily want to admit it to himself, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Tim's wish. Tim humped into Jack's hand, moaning, and Jack's fingers eventually found their way into his pants, under his underpants, feeling the warmth, the soft skin, and wrapped around Tim's hard cock as Tim's moans vibrated louder and louder through his body. Tim's glazed look was both present and absent. As if he wanted to take Jack back there to the masses again. They had both experienced it, had both been there, how the crowds had loved Tim, had wanted him. If it had been up to them, they would have all wanted to touch him, grab him, tear his clothes off, and if it had been up to Tim, Tim would have wanted that too, to feel that love, on his body, hands on his bare and naked skin, fingers reaching for him, digging into his flesh, mouths kissing and tongues licking every inch of him, wanting him, loving him, bringing him to climax. Jack was sure Tim was having sex with all those people in his head right then when Jack pumped him hard, Tim’s gaze dark, his lips moist. It didn't take long now, Tim was exhausted, this wasn't about maximizing pleasure, about extensive sex. What had built up had to come out. Jack felt the hard cock twitch, smelled the sex already, and Tim came with a loud moan. "Ahh!" The cum was warm and sticky on Jack's fingers. Jack knew what it tasted like. Tim dropped down close to Jack and again the damn curls tickled Jack's nose. Tim reached tiredly and lazily for Jack's cock.

It wasn't half-hearted, but it was far from promising either. "You don't need to-" Jack said. "No, I don't want you -" "No, it's okay." Tim rubbed his nose tiredly against Jack's shoulder. "Sure?" "Yeah..." "I'll make it good for you another time, okay?" Jack laughed softly. Tim snuggled up to him. "Sorry, I stained your suit." "It's okay." It wasn't the first time. Jack tried to straighten up. "But I should go now." Tim's heavy arm across him stopped him. "No… Don't be stupid." Jack took a deep breath, for a while wondering if he should insist. For his own self, which would only nag him again tomorrow.

But he was pretty inept at letting Tim down. Always had been. "Can I at least take my jacket off?" He tried to take it lightly. "Yeah sorry..." Tim took his arm away. Jack took off his jacket, half rose from the bed to throw it over the back of the chair, took off his shoes and deliberately dropped them on the floor. Tim chuckled with half-closed eyes. "Good for you!" Jack smiled, albeit a little melancholically, and lay back down in bed a little away from Tim, but Tim immediately moved and cuddled up to him. "Did you see the girl who wanted the tattoo and what I wrote?" Tim asked quietly and dreamily. "Of course." Tim always wanted Jack to hear everything funny he said or did. "Man, I was shaking so much..." Yes, Jack had noticed that.

It was always fascinating to Jack that some things never changed. Of course, Tim was an old hand on the red carpet by now, and even if he knew by now how to hide it very well, the crowds not only electrified him, they also still intimidated him as hell. "I felt you behind me," Tim whispered quietly. "You know when I leaned up to that fan? You stepped up, too. I was so glad that I had you in my back." "It's my job."

"You took care of me."

Tim looked Jack deep into his eyes, not drunk, but not sober either, and gently pressed his lips to Jack's. "I couldn't do any of this without you, you know that, right?" Jack held his breath, looked at Tim, although he wanted nothing else than to close his eyes.

And he didn't know if he hated Tim more for saying that, or himself for wanting to believe it. ***

#how the hell should I tag this #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #Is there already a story about Timmy's bodyguard?#There would also be Charmie coming up but not in the beginning so I skip that too #yeah well whatever #Jack's birthday #can you believe it jack?#you made it into a fanfic!#though I don't think that a lot of people we'll read it #it doesn't fit the scheme #but happy birthay anyway #jackpatron6 #weird right?

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salchat · 6 months

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Chapter 2 - Pop-up Angel

“We haven’t sung happy birthday yet. And there are more gifts to open.”

“Cake!” yelled Jack in agreement. “Gifts!

Cas sorted through his bags and drew out three silvery candles, which looked a bit lost in amongst the winding paths of the huge cake.

“I’ll get a lighter,” said Sam.

“No need. Please turn off the lights, though Sam.” Three little grace-fuelled flames popped into existence.

And when Sam turned the lights off, the cake really did look like an ideal version of heaven. It sparkled in the candlelight, the crystalline trees cast mysterious shadows and flickering yellow flame lit up the inside of the Greek temple so that it looked like there’d be a friendly welcome there for everyone.

Jack’s voice was soft and sombre and, for a moment, wasn’t the voice of a three-year-old. “My heaven’s like that. It’s kind and beautiful and it’s a place where everyone can be happy and feel safe.”

Dean’s eyes prickled. He squeezed an arm around the little boy and felt Cas’s arm curling around from the other side and Sam was leaning down from behind to put his arms around all of them. No words were needed.

Then, “Sing!” The three-year-old was back, in full-on birthday mode. “You’re supposed to sing!”

They did - Cas’s growly, scratchy bass, Sam’s clear baritone and Dean’s expressive tenor, which he tried to tone down to blend with the lower voices, but he couldn’t. Sometimes he could sing along to music in the car and keep it light and deliberately put in a few off-key notes, so that it sounded as though it didn’t matter that much. But sometimes he couldn’t help his real, natural voice coming out, and along with it came all the emotion that was lurking inside him. Dean felt like even the few lines of Happy Birthday were a heartfelt ballad that revealed everything he felt about his little family.

Jack stood up on his chair to blow out the candles and Sammy turned the lights back on. Dean kept his head down and hoped nobody noticed him wiping his eyes.

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#supernatural #fanfic #Jack's birthday #little family #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel

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