Chapter Twenty-Eight
Walt can hear Jesse's heartbeat as he wakes up on his fifty-fourth birthday. It's not a bad way to wake up, a definite step up from the way he awoke the past three years. It had been lonely and quiet and dead. As dead as he'd been.
This day, his eyes open to see that Jesse has his arms looped around him, his head resting on Walt's chest.
It would have annoyed him, somehow, in the earlier days of their partnership. It'd have been too much pressure, too much of a burden.
But now, Jesse stands on his own; he doesn't need Walt, but wants him instead, not that Walt really understands why.
He's fifty-four. He lets that realization dawn on him quietly. He hadn't thought he'd see fifty-one. Fifty-one through fifty-three seem a bit of a wash, the glory days of Heisenberg fallen by the wayside but the peaceful twilight days with Jesse not yet begun.
There's a pain in his chest, but he doesn't know how much of that is medical and how much is psychological. It's nearing the end, he knows that, but he's not sure whether it's good or bad. He's not going out on top, with Heisenberg the most feared figure in the Southwest. He's going out curled in the arms of his former student, his former partner.
Walt almost wishes he had the energy to find it humiliating, but he doesn't. He's so tired. He just wants to stay curled up next to Jesse.
Jesse stirs and yawns, slowly rising into a sitting position, looking over at Walt with a little cheeky grin.
"Happy birthday," he tells him. He leans in and gives Walt an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "What did you want for breakfast?"
Walt sighs, remembering how Skyler would make numbers for each age out of bacon as he progressed through the years. At the time, it had been another year accomplished. Now, it seemed like it had been fifty years sleepwalking, one alive. Another three half-dead and now… now what? He doesn't know.
"Eggs?" he tells Jesse, "Eggs would be good."
Jesse grins and salutes.
"Aye-aye, Captain." Jesse leaps out of bed and heads down the stairs. Walt, figuring Jesse is going to do the cooking for him, rolls back over and curls up to the pillow. His skin still reverberates with Jesse's touch, that soft stroke of his fingers that indicates love in a very different way than Skyler's ever had. It's not that he doubts Skyler had loved him, but it was simply… different. He doesn't know how to explain it.
He decides he doesn't want to leave just yet.
Walt scoops up a piece of scrambled egg and shoves it into his mouth as Jesse watches, the look in his eyes letting on that he wants Walt's approval, as always.
Jesse has gone over every detail with a fine-tooth comb. This would be the last birthday Mr. White would have, after all, and Jesse wants it to be a good one, a quiet and happy one.
Walt does seem satisfied with the meal, giving nods as he eats, and Jesse feels a swell of pride.
Brock, meanwhile, has been pulling apart a bagel as he watches the two.
"You're having a party, right?" he asks, and Jesse nods.
"Nothing big. Just us, Donya, Gabby, and Shaina. You know, kind of the extended family."
Brock grins.
"Are you gonna have a cake?"
Jesse looks over at Walt.
"Sure, I mean, if Mr. White wants one."
Walt smiles, surprised.
"Sure. Cake's good. Chocolate?"
"Sure," Jesse replies eagerly. "I'll buy one… Well, I'll drive out to Wegman's after I get out of class. They have a better selection. Your last class is over at four, right?" Walt nods. "And Brock's out at 3:45. Shaina and Gabby are off at 4:30 and Donya's off at three, so… let's say, five, for the party?"
Walt shrugs.
"Whatever you want to do, Jesse. This is your plan, after all."
Jesse grins.
"Yeah, but, y'know. I want to pull it off." He grimaces. "That's not a plan for later, by the way."
Brock looks up.
"Huh?"
"If I have my way, Brock, you won't understand that joke 'til you're thirty," Jesse tells him. "Eat your bagel."
"You know what it is – White and Pinkman, White and Pinkman, White and Pinkman…" Shaina sings as the group gathers around the cake, which has been adorned with a 5 and a 4, both of which are in various stages of melting. "All right, Prow," she continues as she gestures to the cake, "Blow out your candles."
"Prow?" Walt and Jesse ask in unison.
"I saw a movie about Kinsey, that guy who studied sex. His students called him 'Prok'. So… Prow."
Jesse shakes his head.
"Just make a wish and blow 'em out before it's a wax sculpture."
Walt takes a deep breath, reels it in, and blows. He's a little afraid that he won't have the air in his lungs for it, that he'll start hacking again and Jesse will have to come save him.
But other than a little shortness of breath, it doesn't happen. The flames disappear, and Jesse leans in to pull the candles off the cake.
"I hope you wished for something good," Jesse teases.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll be granting those wishes sometime tonight," Shaina snarks with a grin.
"There's young ears!" Gabby chastises.
"Yeah, yeah," Shaina quips, "He'll learn it soon enough anyway. Or hear you two doing it and come to his own conclusions."
"We have to be really quiet," Jesse whispers in Walt's ears. He has to wonder if this, today, might be the last time they are intimate together, before Walt is too sick to participate.
Jesse presses his lips to Walt; the kiss is gentle and soothing, wiping out thoughts of mortality. Walt kisses back and his hands immediately go to Jesse's hips.
"Jesse," he moans, "My Jesse."
"That's right." Jesse's voice is raspy against Walt's ears. "I'm yours."
"Always mine," Walt whispers back, "How are we doing on the quiet thing?"
Jesse covers his mouth to stifle a giggle, as he unbuttons Walt's pants before pulling them down and then off.
"We must be wewy wewy quiet. We're hunting wabbits." He has to swallow another round of hysterics. Jesse had never thought that being with Mr. White could actually be fun, and the realization is one that he doesn't quite know where to file. So he pushes that to the back of his mind, near all thoughts of Walt's eventual death.
Instead, he pulls Walt's underwear off, too, and reaches up to take off his own clothes. The lube sticks out on the nightstand, and he moves to pick it up, handing it to his partner.
"What do you want to try tonight?" Jesse asks. "Your birthday, your choice."
Walt muses on it.
"I don't know. I don't really have any deep, dark desires." Jesse laughs ironically, and he corrects, "In the bedroom, at least. You have any ideas?"
Jesse grins widely.
"You could order me around."
"Like, make you my servant?"
"Maybe we could role-play it," Jesse continues enthusiastically. "Like those sultans who have harems. Just, uh, kinda quiet harems."
Walt laughs.
"Okay," he replies. "I'm… Sultan White. And you've just been selected to become a member of my harem. You're a willful young and supple prisoner of war, but I've decided that I'm going to break you."
Jesse moans out and nods approvingly. Walt climbs off the bed and looks at his partner.
"Kneel when you address me," he declares. Jesse obliges, pushing himself off the bed and getting down on his knees, bowing his head.
"That's good," Walt says, "But I still think there's rebellion in you. You will learn to obey my every whim. What do you say?"
"Yes, Sir," Jesse whispers.
"You're going to learn to serve me, and to like it. You understand?"
"Yes, Sir!" Jesse exclaims, feeling his cock throb.
Walt moves so that he's standing behind Jesse, and in a quick motion he slaps Jesse's ass. The younger man lets out a low grunt and juts forward.
"Well done. You are a very pleasing concubine. But it's time to see what sort of skills you bring to the table." Jesse nods and gestures for Walt to get back in front of him.
"This is my best skill, Sir," Jesse replies submissively, leaning in to press his tongue against Walt's hard cock. He doesn't speak after that, just opens widely and takes him inside, focusing on the taste and texture of the older man's skin.
He wonders if they'll be able to do this, at least, towards the end.
He pushes that away as he takes his partner deeper, until it's actually uncomfortable and it's all he can think about. All senses are focused on the task at hand, the smell of him and the bittersweet taste, the sound of his moans and how it feels as he jerks and bucks.
Jesse's jaw is aching, but he could stay here forever.
His hands move out to fondle the other man's balls, eliciting a pleased, "Jesse, yes, yeah," from his partner.
A trill of triumph rushes through him. The old quest to please Mr. White is alive and well in his heart, through his chest and up his spine.
He bobs on Walt's cock, sucks harder, and with a low hiss, his partner cums. Jesse swallows easily, almost savoring it and licking his lips as he shifts back to a sitting position.
"Was that good for you, Sir?" he asks, bowing his head again, but not before batting his eyes at his old mentor.
Walt opens his mouth and lets out a satisfied groan. He leans back, laying his head on his hands. Jesse moves to lie next to him.
"You okay?" he asks, the roles forgotten.
"Yeah. Just… Tired. But good… Jesse…" He pauses. "Thank you."
"For that? Sure. Anytime."
"No, just… for this. For this year."
Jesse smiles.
"You don't say 'thank you' very often," he points out, stretching out and propping his chin up on his hand.
"Yeah, well. Don't get used to it."
