It was time they stopped meeting like this. Jesse would call Walt while he was spending time with his family and beg him for a ride home. He was drunk (or high, maybe both) and didn't think he was "safe to drive his own vehicle" home from whatever party he had been crashing at the time. After all, that's what responsible people are supposed to do, right? Call someone they trust to come get them when they are too inebriated to drive? Bullshit. Jesse had driven his car home under many different influences on more than one occasion, and nothing had ever stopped him before (luckily for him, including the police). This was different, and it was starting to happen more frequently—Walt would receive a call in the middle of the night, rush out to go help Jesse believing that he was actually in trouble, and wind up talking to him for hours while he sobbed onto his shoulder or into his chest about Jane, or Andrea, or any of the millions of other things he would never be able to change. There was something rather sweet about it, yet Walt could not risk letting it affect his home life with his wife and children because his partner was unable to pull his shit together.
Tonight was like any other, only perhaps a little worse. When they arrived at Jesse's house, he immediately began pacing around his own living room like a caged animal while rehashing every detail that had been on his mind all night until he was finally reduced to a blubbering mess, clinging to Walt's neck like a frightened child. Walt wanted to be upset about it, but he simply couldn't. It was not in his nature. He just held on to the boy and let him vent for as long as he needed to, just like he always did, and after an hour or so of trying to be a comforting mentor he finally felt Jesse go quiet and very still in his arms.
The son of a bitch had fallen asleep! Well, that's just great, he thought. Gently, Walt tried to slip out from under his partner's weight, but he could tell that he was in immediate danger of waking him and having to listen to him whine for God-only-knows how much longer if he did. This seemed to be one of those times where not doing anything is the only good option he had, so Walt did his best to make himself comfortable while he waited for the perfect opportunity to sneak out the front door.
That opportunity never came. Walt shook himself back to consciousness as he felt himself dozing off and glanced down at his watch—it was 1:43AM, and Skyler was going to MURDER him! Perhaps even literally! There wasn't a single excuse he could think of to justify getting home after 2AM, which surely it would be by the time he managed to slip out of Jesse's house at this rate... But he had to think of something. In due time, of course. Right now, he had to deal with the 160lb problem that was his partner drooling on his shoulder...
Luckily, after so much time had passed, Jesse had fallen into a deeper sleep than he was before. Walt managed to push him back, pick him up, and lay him back down on the couch without causing too much of a disturbance. Jesse mumbled something as Walt laid him down that caused him to hesitate briefly, but there was no time for that right now. Quickly, he ran upstairs to Jesse's bedroom (where he was NOT about to carry him), grabbed a blanket, threw it on top of the kid and ran out the door into the night.
After the wife had left for work the next morning and Walter Jr was off to school for the day, Mr. White decided that it would be in his best interest to go back to Jesse's house and try to clear the air a bit. Jesse opened the door after only about an hour or so of knocking, and the bags under his eyes screamed 'hangover' loud and clear.
"You wanna come in?" Jesse asked, using the edge of the door to support his weight
"...Yeah." Walt said, trying to figure out how he should proceed with the conversation.
The door closed behind them, and Walt walked anxiously into the middle of the living room where the whole thing had happened the night before. He paused there silently, while Jesse made the "okay, crazy" face behind his back and lit a cigarette.
"Sooo... What's up?" Jesse said at last, heading into the kitchen.
Walt followed closely behind, but he didn't answer until Jesse had had the chance to rummage through the empty refrigerator and then close the door after realizing that there were nothing but condiments in there.
"I want to talk to you about something that happened last night."
"Oh, God." Jesse began, leaning up against the refrigerator. "You know, a lot of things happened last night. I had a lot of shit on my mind, I wasn't thinking straight... Can we just forget about it? I'm sorry I cried in your lap like a little bitch, okay? Are you happy no-"
"No, Jesse." Walt interrupted. "That's not what I'm talking about. That's okay, you were very upset..."
"Well, what then?" The look on Jesse's face was a mixture of genuine concern and interest. He secretly wondered if he had done something stupid that Mr. White just hadn't reprimanded him for yet.
"Last night... After you had fallen asleep, I didn't want to move you and risk waking you up again. I sat there as long as I could, but I had to get home to my family. As I shifted you back over to the couch, you had your arm wrapped around me, and as I laid you down you buried your face in my neck and called me 'Mr. White.'"
Walt paused here for quite some time until Jesse raised an eyebrow and began hurriedly making circular motions in the air with his hand to indicate that he was waiting to hear the next part of the story.
"Annnd...what?" Jesse blurted, wiping the solemn expression off of Walt's face, who had clearly assumed (incorrectly) that this statement of facts should have explained everything.
"And... You called me 'Mr. White.'" Walt repeated, believing that the message should be loud and clear by now.
"That is your fucking name, isn't it?!" Jesse snapped, astonished by Mr. White's uncanny ability to make a mountain out of every mole hill.
"Yes. But Jesse... You were asleep. Physically, your body was feeling a tender, comforting experience, but you didn't associate it with someone else. You didn't call me 'Jane,' you didn't call me 'Andrea'... You pulled yourself into my arms and called me 'Mr. White.'"
Jesse's mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes resembled that of a young buck introducing itself for the first time to a speeding Toyota on the highway. He stood there, frozen, for what seemed like an eternity, but even an eternity wouldn't have been long enough to process the information he had just received.
Walt just stood there, arms crossed lazily on his chest, staring back at him with that blank, teacher's expression. You know the one—when they call on you to answer a question that they KNOW you do not know the answer to, but they stare at you patiently anyway to let you know that they will not go away until you give it your best shot and make an ass out of yourself in front of everyone. That haughty, expectant, I'm-setting-you-up-for-certain-humiliation stare.
Jesse arched his brow as if to say 'whatever, crazy,' and he turned his body like he intended to walk away before he realized there was nowhere else to go. He raised his cigarette hand nervously to the back of his neck while keeping his gaze diverted from the ever-persistent man leaning on the counter.
"Whatever, yo." He finally said, dismissively. But he wasn't quite finished yet. "Wait, what are you even saying right now? Do you think I'm, like, in love with you or something?"
His exaggerated hand gestures spoke volumes about his comfort level.
"I didn't say that. I-" Walt began, before being cut short.
"Well what did you say, then? Either you're saying that you think I want to have your babies or you're not..." Jesse announced, clearly rattled by the line of questioning.
"Jesse.. Did you fail biology, too?" Walt quipped, cleverly evading the probe.
"Whatever." Came the response, as Jesse brushed past him and headed for the door.
"Are you still coming over later?" Walt asked, stopping Jesse just as his hand grasped the doorknob.
"I don't know," Jesse replied, staring at the door to avoid having to turn and face Mr. White, "that didn't go so well last time. I don't think your wife likes me very much."
"She...Doesn't understand." Walt corrected, "But she has business to attend to in the morning, so I don't expect she will stay up very late tonight."
Suddenly there were a million ideas of what Mr. White might have meant by that statement bouncing around in Jesse's head. Realizing that he was over-thinking it, he pulled the door open and made his escape without another word.
Jesse arrived at the White residence around five. Dinner wasn't until 5:30, so he was a little early, but better that than late. Walt could tell that, although he didn't bother dressing up, Jesse had at least attempted to look decent for the occasion—probably because he was afraid of Mrs. White. There was plenty of reason for that, also. Skyler detested anyone associated with Walt's side life in the Meth business, but she had a special place in her heart for hating Jesse. Deep down, it seemed like she blamed him for the whole situation, which was very unfair. Jesse was a doorway, that was it. But still, she stared on all throughout dinner, trying to melt his soul with heat vision or something. Jesse could sense this, of course, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair while trying unsuccessfully to make any kind of small talk that he thought might lighten the mood. The mood remained dark and unwelcoming, but this time his mind was not put to ease by seeking reassuring looks from Mr. White when he felt that things were getting to hot. This time, when he turned to look at Mr. White in between Skyler's snide remarks, he caught Walt staring at him...creepily. Not so much in a way that Jesse was not familiar with, but in a way he didn't expect to see with Walt's wife also sitting with them at the table. This made him even more uneasy, as he sat waiting for Skyler to notice and have a huge fight break out right over the mashed potatoes.
Finally, the baby started crying, which offered a much welcomed distraction from the unpleasantness of having dinner with Walt's family.
"That must be Holly!" Jesse announced, stating the obvious. "How old is she now, Mrs. White?"
Skyler didn't bother to respond, but instead shot daggers at Walt for having told 'some junkie' anything about their infant daughter. Jesse could read the look loud and clear, but he was used to it by now. He got those looks a lot, and not just from Mrs. White, either. He just kind of let it roll off of him like water off a duck's ass at this point.
"I have a little brother myself. I used to take care of him when he was a baby and our folks had to leave the house for a bit. You want me to get her?"
"No, Jesse. Thank you." Skyler responded shortly "I've got her. I'm going to bed anyway, so I'll just take her with me."
Skyler stood up, placed her napkin down on top of her dish, and walked away from the table. She walked into the next room where she gathered her daughter from her play pen and carried her down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind her as loud as she could without scaring the baby. Jesse's eyes had followed her down the hall, but after he realized that she would not be returning while he was there, his gaze returned to Walt. Walt was now reclining back into the kitchen chair, legs stretched out in front of him and arms folded behind his head with a smug look of satisfaction across his face. He didn't say a word, but sat there for a long while staring at Jesse, who was trying desperately to think of something to do or say that would get him out of that room.
Jesse finally picked up his and Mrs. White's plates and made his way over to the sink. In a poorly-planned attempt to distance himself from the awkwardness of dinner with Skyler and his discomfort with the way he had caught Walt looking at him from time to time, he absentmindedly began running water over one of the dishes as he held it in the sink. He was completely unaware that he had zoned out until a long, black sleeve brushed deliberately past his waist, and the hand that was attached to it reached in and turned off the water. Walt's hand. A chill went up Jesse's spine knowing how close he must be to have been able to do that. He raised his gaze to the kitchen window, which acted like more of a mirror against the darkness of the early evening, and saw Walt standing directly behind him. Their forms blended together, giving the appearance of Jesse having two heads—one, unable to breathe with crystal blue eyes, and the other; a dark, overwhelming black shadow with two gleaming flecks of light behind the glasses where it's eyes should be. And, of course, the hat... He was wearing his black hat with the brim pulled low. The hat that could instantly turn a mild-mannered school teacher into...Heisenberg.
Suddenly, there was an open-palmed hand flat across Jesse's chest. With a sudden jerk of his arm, Heisenberg pulled Jesse back and held him tightly against himself. Jesse could feel his breath on the back of his neck. He could feel the chest of the dominant presence rising and falling against his back with every breath, and he could feel the stiffness of predatory arousal pressing against him as his own breathing became slightly ragged and increasingly nervous. His mind was spinning; his initial instinct was telling him to be offended and push himself away from the situation angrily, but he couldn't. Something about this was tempting him, almost like when he tried the heroin with Jane—it was so wrong that he had to have it.
What he didn't realize, was that Walt was pausing deliberately to allow him the opportunity to stop this if it was not what he wanted. Walt could tell by Jesse's rigidity that he was nervous, but he offered no other indication that the advance was unwelcome. And now, the cordial waiting time was up.
In his peripheral vision, Jesse saw the other hand rise up slowly along his right side. The open palm came to a rest just a few inches from the side of his face, and Jesse flinched a little not knowing whether to expect a slap or a pat on the head.
"Spit in it." Walt growled softly into the younger man's ear, still holding him tightly against his chest.
Jesse tried to respond, but the noise came out as more of a helpless squeak.
"I-I'm not going to spit in your hand." He said at last, voice breaking with obvious discomfort.
"Then lick it instead, I don't care." Walt responded sharply.
"N-... I-... D-do it yourself." Jesse stammered, wiggling gently from side to side to test his boundaries within the bear-hug. His boundaries were very secure.
"Have it your way." Walt stated simply, and the hand continued to raise until Jesse could no longer see it.
Jesse quickly returned his gaze to the window, where he saw Walt's reflection staring directly back at him. Without breaking eye contact, Walt raised his free hand up to his own lips and licked it in a dramatically slow fashion to be sure Jesse knew exactly what was coming next. Jesse swallowed hard, and before he knew it the hand had slipped inside his already-baggy pants and gotten a firm grasp on his surprisingly attentive cock. Startled, Jesse exhaled quickly, almost causing him to enter a coughing fit. Mr. White began to stroke, hard and slow, pulling Jesse even tighter into the embrace like a boa constricting it's prey. Despite himself, Jesse's mouth dropped open and his eyes fluttered closed, savoring every moment of this feeling before he surely woke up in his own bed in a cold sweat, reevaluating his life choices. Right? Not this time.
Walt could tell by the level of stiffness that Jesse was about to climax. He found this almost funny—It all happens so quick when your young, doesn't it? He stopped stroking Jesse immediately and pulled his hand quickly out of the sea of over-sized fabric. Releasing the death-grip he had been holding him in, Walt moved his other hand from Jesse's chest to his shoulder and spun him carefully around to face him. Ah, there was that dumbfounded look that he loved so very much!
Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but Walt raised a finger to his lips to silence him before he could get a word out. Walt brought the hand he had been touching Jesse with up to Jesse's mouth.
"Now, lick it." Walt demanded.
"What? No way. I'm all set with that, thanks." Jesse retorted hesitantly, not knowing what to expect to come from the situation.
"Lick it," Walter repeated again, "or I stop."
Jesse's eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief, but he didn't dare try his luck right now. Instead, he thought, he would beat Mr. White at his own game. Mr. White WANTED Jesse to be sheepish about tasting his own juices on his hand, but Jesse wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. With stunning blue eyes locked directly on Walt's, Jesse grabbed Walt's hand by the wrist and pulled it close to his face. With all the drama of a porn star, he glanced briefly at it, and then back at Walt with a dangerous little smirk before running his tongue from the base of Walt's palm all the way to the tip of his middle finger, which he pulled into his mouth and sucked lightly for a moment. Caught off guard, Walt's eyes closed and he inhaled sharply before realizing the power-play Jesse had just pulled on him. He opened his eyes to see Jesse still smirking, holding Walt's hand up by the wrist.
"Satisfied?" Jesse mocked.
The expression on Walt's face shifted immediately back to stern as he locked eyes with his partner once more.
"Not yet." Came the cold response.
In one swift motion, Walt made a grab for Jesse's belt and had it undone in seconds. Before Jesse could even scramble to stop it, his pants pooled around his feet on the floor, and Walt had a grip on the waistband of his boxers. Jesse's eyes raised quickly to meet Walter's, but his look of horror only intensified when he saw that Mr. White was the one who was smirking now.
Flawlessly, Mr. White pulled Jesse's boxers down with him as he fell to his knees in front of him. Jesse, mindful as always of his surroundings, scrambled quickly to snatch them back up, but it was too late. Before he had even been able to stretch out his hand, Walt had taken his entire cock into his mouth and was doing a pretty good job of swallowing it whole.
"F-fuuuckkk!" Jesse blurted, buckling forward in ecstasy as his entire package was engulfed in warm, unexpected moisture. He quickly became mindful of the level of his voice, and adjusted it so as not to arouse attention. "Fuck dude, you're family is home! Knock it off before one of them walks out here and sees us like this!"
Walt ignored him completely of course, grabbing his ass with both hands instead and pulling him in deeper. Jesse moaned louder than anticipated at that, his back arching into the waves of unexpected pleasure as Walt gently guided him backwards to lean him against the sink. Jesse's hands were now on Walt's shoulders, but as he became more confident in what was happening, he raised them up and ran them over his own throat while Walt sucked steadily. He quickly became rock hard again, and tried to warn Mr. White that he was about to come, but Walt silenced him by placing a firm hand flat across Jesse's abdomen and holding him against the sink. Jesse stared down at the hand trying to interpret the body language when suddenly he saw Walt's eyes shoot up to meet his own. Something about staring down at him like that and the intense eye contact while Walt continued to swallow his cock like a professional pushed him over the edge. His eyes rolled back into his head as he tried not to convulse, and Walt used his other hand to pull Jesse in even deeper again. Jesse could feel the hot fluid squirting down Walt's throat, and that made him come even harder. Walt didn't fight it... He just stopped when he felt his partner go limp in front of him and buckle over in exhaustion.
"What the FUCK was that?" Jesse demanded as quietly as he could muster when he had finally caught his breath.
Heisenberg didn't say a word. He just locked eyes with Jesse coldly, and stood up in such a way that Jesse had to correct his own posture to make space for the taller man that was now completely inside his comfort zone. Walt softly placed a hand along the side of Jesse's face, and guided him in slowly. Jesse's lips parted slightly in anticipation of the kiss despite being mildly disturbed by where that mouth had just been. Their lips met with subtle force and Walt wrangled his way in, tangling his tongue sloppily around Jesse's. Jesse could taste himself on Walt's tongue, which turned him on more than he expected, but he would never admit that out loud. Walt began to pull back, but he gently bit down on Jesse's lower lip before they parted. It was game-on after that.
Jesse gave Walt that sly little smirk that said 'I will literally do ANYTHING to please you,' and Walt knew that his partner was now completely at his disposal. Grabbing Jesse by the neck of his shirt, he directed him backwards toward the kitchen table where he proceeded to turn him around and force him to bend over, placing his chest flat on the hard surface. He pulled Jesse's arms up behind his back as if he were placing him under arrest, and then forcefully kicked his legs apart. Jesse knew exactly what was coming next, and he could feel his heart throbbing in his throat when he heard the gentle tugging of Walt fumbling with his own belt. He winced slightly, half expecting Walt to just force his way in, but there was a short pause after Jesse heard Walt's pants hit the floor. He glanced back as best he could at such an awkward angle, and saw Walt just standing there in his underwear (which... he was pretty used to by now), watching Jesse move beneath him.
"You are literally killing me with those things right now..." Jesse said, in reference to Walt's preference for tightie-whities, "Do I need to take you shopping or something?"
But Walt wasn't listening. He was in his own world as he slowly lifted is hand and ran his fingers softly down the younger man's spine. Jesse shuddered as a wave of pins and needles flooded his entire body. His eyes closed as he let the feeling completely take him over, hardly even noticing when Walt's hands came to a rest firmly on his hips. Walt pressed himself up against Jesse slowly as a warning, but before giving him the chance to say anything, he began to slide inside.
"Fffuuckkk you... dick!" Jesse exclaimed, completely unprepared for the experience.
"Shhh..." Walt cooed, "How did you think it would feel at first?"
He ran his fingers down Jesse's spine again, but the effect was not quite as romantic the second time around.
"Uh, a little less like being ripped in half?" Jesse responded sarcastically as Walt paused to allow him time to adjust.
Walt began pulling in and out slowly to prevent as much discomfort as possible. He could tell that Jesse was still in a little pain, but he was starting to come around. He glanced down the hallway and wondered for a moment exactly what he would say if someone DID come out of their bedroom at this very moment for any reason. He couldn't think of anything.
His eyes returned to the beautiful pale skin and slender physique of Jesse writhing beneath him. It took every ounce of composure he had not to grab him by the hips and destroy him, but he managed to keep a pace that would satisfy them both in time. Soon, he felt Jesse rocking back onto him, arching his back when Walt managed to get nice and deep. He took this as a very good sign.
Heisenberg put his flat hand on the small of Jesse's back, and as he began to thrust harder and faster, he ran his palm heavily up the spine and over the kid's shoulder, grabbing Jesse firmly by the throat. Immediately, he could tell that this turned him on, and that was the cue he needed to begin riding him like a horse. With the momentum of each increasing thrust, the table screeched forward a bit on the tile floor, making quite a bit of noise. The both silently realized that this was a problem, but the idea of getting caught fucking in the kitchen made the situation that much hotter and turned them on too much to warrant doing anything about it.
Finally, the table had scooted far enough that it hit the wall with a THUD, and Walt used it as leverage as he held Jesse down and pounded into him. A new wave of ecstasy hit, and Walt felt himself really let go for the first time in a very long time. The hot, sticky liquid filled up the small opening, and Walt pulled Jesse tight against him as he took a moment to let the feeling subside. When it had passed, he collapsed down on top of Jesse, eyes wide while they both tried to catch their breath.
"Holy shit." Jesse finally said, exasperated.
"You're telling me..." Walt responded, still panting like a dog in heat.
Jesse looked back over his shoulder and his eyes met Walt's, both men looking confused as to what they should do now. There was a soft rustling coming from the hallway, and they both jumped up to frantically start grabbing for their clothes when they heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open. Jesse, a professional at having to put his clothes back on and sneak out in a hurry, was dressed almost instantly, but Walt was still buttoning his shirt when his son made his way into the doorway of the kitchen.
"W-w-what are you doing? W-why is the table all the way over...over there?" Walt Jr questioned suspiciously
Walt turned to look at Jesse, who was frantically trying to think of an answer himself.
"We were... Just moving it over to the corner so we could play some cards." Jesse said at last, but only realizing how stupid it sounded after he had already said it.
There was a long pause. Walt and Jesse both knew that they were busted, and were already trying to think of a way out of it.
"W-whatever. Just don't l-let mom see you guys fighting in the house. She'll go b-b-ballistic." Junior replied, turning around to head back down the hall.
Walt looked back at Jesse, whose eyes were now wide with disbelief again.
"Oh. My. God!" Jesse silently mouthed the words so as not to try his luck.
Walter sighed heavily with relief as he heard the bedroom door shut behind his son. Again, there was a long pause while they both stood there evaluating what had just happened, as well as what had almost just happened.
"So.. Uh... Yeah" Jesse said, trying to break the ice
"You want a beer?" Walter suggested, motioning toward the refrigerator
"Nah, I better go." Jesse responded, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably, but smiling while he did it for once.
"Okay," came the response, "I'll let you out."
As the door clicked shut behind Jesse, Walt was just about to let out another long sigh of relief when Skyler's voice broke the silence and scared him half to death.
"Walt... Why is our table pushed up against the wall?"
Still with his back toward her in the darkness of the living room, Heisenberg's eyes got wide and his mouth hung open as he tried to think of a clever response to what was suddenly such a popular question!