Title: Who Are They Alone?
Author: NemesisOfMyself on LJ
Fandom: Franklin and Bash!
Pairing: Jared Franklin/Peter Bash
Rating: PG-13 for M/M kissing and mentions of M/M sex
Word Count: 444 words
Summary: From fastfoodjunkie - Kissing! Peter and Jared kissing, starts off light and chaste and turns into hungry and passionate. Wherever, I don't care. Couch. Office. Hot tub. Just exploring each other's mouths for the billionth time because it's their favourite way to relax.
Warnings: Hmm, kissing, mentions of M/M sexy times... thats it I think.
Notes: Written for a kissing!kink prompt over on the F&B kink meme.
Disclaimer: Not mine :'(
Anyway - Because I was bored, Franklin and Bash are my OTP and there was a voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like fastfoodjunkie saying 'DOOOOO IT!'
I hope you like it :) PS. I couldn't remember who had the broader chest of the two so I exercised my artistic license a little.
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Years ago - when they first got together, fingers sliding over familiar skin in unfamiliar ways - lips meeting lips was always a precursor to something else. A kiss was always the start of something, it was their unspoken signal for when asking, actually saying the words out loud, was too difficult for either of them.
After a while, it changed. Gentle, chaste kisses when they'd had a bad day, maybe lost a case or simply to reassure the other. (Mostly to reassure Jared because Peter still had the odd moment, when Jared was Jared-the-friend-slash-wingman rather than Jared-the-love-of-his-life)
Harder kisses born of wantneednow.
More time passed and people were no longer surprised to find that Franklin and Bash were Franklin/Bash - well, mostly Bash/Franklin, except for the nights Jared won a bet or a game of poker or had gotten Karp so angry that he'd nearly punched him in the face and therefore won the rights to Peter's body for the night. Sometimes that meant wild headboardbanging monkey sex, other times in meant Jared begging Peter to press him into the mattress, covering the smaller man's body with his own broader frame and worship at the only shrine that would ever matter to him.
Today it meant wrapping themselves up in each other, limbs tangling, Peter's hand finding its home in Jared's floppy hair. It meant trading soft smiles and softer kisses. This was the best time, when Peter could press their lips together, mouths falling open at his insistence, and know that this was exactly what they needed to unwind. Exactly what they had been doing for years to help them relax. Deepening the kiss, Peter let his lips curve slightly into a half smile. He loved this.
A tinge of desperation edged Jared's kisses and changed them, from a searching tangling of tongues to something deeper, more frantic and suddenly Jared was atop his partner, pressing as close as physically possible with the layers of cloth between them (because the smaller of the two still insisted on wearing one of Peter's jumpers as pyjamas)
Pressing. Pulling. Longing. Desperate. Hurried. And then, Jared relaxed, slumping against his partners chest and all Peter did was tug him up and place another long, slow, kiss on Jared's swollen lips, smiling reassuringly at him again.
More kisses traded, quiet sighs and whimpers eaten up by the others' mouths and when their eyelids started to droop from tiredness, they moulded their bodies together and slept - secure in the knowledge that no matter what happened; now, in September or in 20 years time, they would always have each other.
After all, who is Peter without Jared?
Who is Franklin without Bash?