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Knowing You're Wanted

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In the cheap, one room apartment he shared with Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis was asleep. Well, not properly asleep, but definitely dozing. The faint aroma of Woodhue wafted under his nose, making it twitch and rousing him from his slumber.

“Paul, whadd’re you doin’ home so early?” He slurred.

“Shh, go back to sleep.”

Dean’s exaggerated whisper and concern made Jerry smile, his eyes still closed. However, there was something about Dean’s response that bothered him. Why was Dean back? Had something gone wrong? Confusion made its way across his face and he started to pout. Jerry began wrestling with the duvet covers in a feeble attempt to manoeuvre himself up in bed.

“Don’t bother getting up Jer, I’m fine.” Dean’s voice was unconvincing, but Jerry stilled his movements nonetheless.

“What happened?”

“I guess I just struck out tonight, pally.”

Jerry frowned. The girl Dean had left the show with had been a sure thing. She had practically torn Dean apart in the dressing room.

“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Jerry muttered under his breath, already annoyed at the girl. First she takes Dean’s company away from him for the night, and then has the gall to reject him!

“It’s nothing, kid. Happens all the time.”

Jerry snorted into his pillow. Happens all the time? Bullshit. Jerry had never seen anyone turn Dean down in person, and the number of times the man regularly returned home in the early hours of the morning reeking of some god-awful girly perfume was testament to the fact that Dean Martin did not strike out with the ladies.

Nevertheless, Jerry snuggled back down into the sheets. He felt the bed dip as Dean slid in next to him.

Jerry’s pulse quickened and he tried to ignore it. He focussed instead on the steady hum of traffic bleeding in through the opened window in front of him.

He was surprised when Dean resumed the conversation. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Jerry shook his head honestly. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Dean had struck out with a chick, and that even now the man was lying just a foot away from him. They’d shared beds before, but not usually when more than one of them was conscious.

“Shows how much you know.” Dean’s tone sounded defensive and Jerry’s ears pricked up in interest. “I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole, Jer. She had no taste. No class.”

Jerry had met quite a few of the women Dean had gone with over the past several years. He hadn’t figured there had been much accounting for taste in many of those situations, but he chose to stay quiet now and let Dean finish his piece.

“She was insulting you. Sayin’ I didn’t need you - that I could make it on my own. The nerve! I told her in that case she could make it on her own and high-tailed it out of there.” Dean’s tone was indignant, but Jerry could hear an undercurrent of emotion bubbling under the surface.

Jerry was lying with his back to Dean, but even so, he sensed a vulnerability in his declaration. Dean had turned down the chick on account of him. Dean had turned down a sure thing just because she’d been bad mouthing him. Jerry was glad for the darkness hiding the blush he knew would be apparent on his cheeks.

Jerry rolled over, turning towards Dean. A smile stretched across his face.

Dean reached a hand up to brush back the hair falling on Jerry’s face. “I do need you, Jer. I want you to know that. I need you to know that.”

Every fiber of Jerry’s being was imploring him to make a joke. To make light of this and get the conversation back on familiar ground. He held himself back and played Dean’s words back in his mind. Dean had stood up for him. Dean had backed him, even though it had cost him his date. Jerry couldn’t remember anyone having done something like that for him before.

If Jerry’s smile could have gotten any broader it would have split his face in two. His fingers itched and he let them escape his control to bury themselves in Dean’s hair. He started peppering Dean’s face with kisses; on his forehead, cheeks, chin, and nose, before starting on his closed eyelids and finally pressing firmly and jubilantly against his lips.

Jerry moved to cover Dean’s body with his own in a full body hug. He couldn’t help the whimper he let out when he felt a warm firmness pressing into his hip and realised Dean was still hard.

That instant, he felt Dean start to pull back and turn on his side, facing away from him. Jerry could tell he’d done it in as gentle a way as he would have known possible, but it still stung a little.

Clearly, Dean was embarrassed about being hard, and had been taken aback by Jerry’s reaction. Having just listened to Dean talking about how much he needed him and admitting to the fact that he’d lost interest in a beautiful girl just because she hadn’t valued Jerry as much as he did, Jerry couldn’t understand how his erection of all things could be the problem.

Jerry quietly implored him, “Dean?”

The only response he got was that Dean started extricating himself from the sheet and duvet, preparing his escape. Jerry knew without a shadow of a doubt that Dean was still affected, either by Jerry’s affections, or residual frustration from his abandoned date. He assumed that Dean was now on a mission to find the nearest bathroom to finish what had already been started.

Jerry gripped Dean’s upper arm. As always, it surprised him that his entire hand only fit around half the man’s bicep. It succeeded in stopping Dean in his tracks.

“Jer?” Dean asked quizzically.

“Dean, wait.” Jerry implored. He wriggled forward and took the opportunity to press against Dean.

It was Dean’s turn to whimper as he felt Jerry’s hard length against his ass.

Jerry felt the small but undeniable pressure of Dean pressing back into him and he sucked in a quick breath of air. If he had thought himself ill-prepared before, that was nothing compared with this. He didn’t dare press harder into Dean, even though that was what every fibre of his being was screaming out for. He had no words to describe what he wanted.

Jerry instead chose to speak from experience. If he could convince Dean that this wasn’t just a flight of fancy borne out of boredom or opportunism; If he could manage to communicate that this was what he really wanted, maybe he could encourage Dean to stay a little longer.

“Dean,” Jerry partially moaned into the older man’s ear. “You know how I’m always picking up girls that look and sound Italian, with short dark hair and dark eyes?”

“Yes, Jer?” Jerry wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a slight waver in Dean’s response.

It was almost more than he could handle, pressing up against Dean and hearing the Italian crooner moaning back in a voice that was oh so familiar.

Jerry continued in an almost inaudible whisper. His lips were brushing against Dean’s ear as he rocked gently back and forth. “Sometimes – I imagine they’re you. I press up against them like this, but they don’t feel like you do. They never feel like you do.”

Dean didn’t respond verbally, but Jerry could have sworn he felt Dean’s strong glutes contracting and tensing against his cock.

“I want you, Dean. I need you too.”

Jerry slowly snaked his arm around Dean’s front, placing it diagonally across his chest. Holding Dean, he pressed up against him once more.

“I know what you’re thinking, Dean. Stop thinking. Just feel me.” Jerry’s words were assertive, but his voice was pleading. He couldn’t recall another time in his life when he’d ever made such a heartfelt plea.

Jerry rolled his hips against Dean. Slowly. Sensually. Dean was scared, Jerry knew it. He knew this wasn’t how Dean had originally envisaged his night ending up. But holy shit, Dean turning down a girl on account of him? What stronger aphrodisiac was there? Dean had stuck up for him even though it meant ruining his chances of scoring. It would have been enough to give him a persistent erection in Colonial Park Pool in February. As it was, he was warm, dry, and aroused, and not in that particular order.

He could feel Dean’s heartbeat through the back of his chest, beating in counterpoint to Jerry’s own erratic pulse.

Dean wouldn’t admit to being scared, but if Jerry could make this seem like No Big Deal, he was sure Dean would be content to follow and be amenable to most whatever Jerry might propose.

Jerry leaned his head forward to nuzzle at the back of Dean’s neck, rubbing his nose up along the divot, and kissing it with his full lips. He had an inkling of what his lips could do to Dean on a regular day, and he also knew that Dean’s neck was very sensitive. If he didn’t push too hard, or too fast, there was every chance he’d be able to convince Dean to just stay a little longer.

“Oh, Dean,” Jerry moaned in his ear. His voice had lifted from its sleepy gravelly tone to his natural register and he felt Dean shiver against him.

He heard a faint sound coming from Dean. It sounded like words, but there was no way he could make them out, even in the quiet room, silent but for their combined labored breathing.

“What’s that, Dean?”

He heard the same sound again, only this time it was definitely words, definitely vocal and there was no way he couldn’t make them out. If there were only two words he got to hear from Dean for the rest of his days, those would be them.

“Touch me.”

Jerry flirted with the notion of teasing Dean, getting him to spell out exactly what he was after, but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was to antagonise him or make him feel self conscious.

Jerry flicked open the button of Dean’s slacks and wormed his way inside his briefs, taking hold of his length. Jerry inhaled deeply into Dean’s hair as his hand wrapped around his cock. It felt so big in his hand. It was hot and heavy and hard and smooth and Jerry swallowed around the lump inexplicably lodged in his throat.

“My god, Dean. I didn’t know …“

He heard the smirk in Dean’s response, “I never told ya. I’m a grower, not a shower.”

Jerry leapt on the familiar tone and joked back, “Well, there was plenty to show for before, boy. But this is just something else. What did they feed ya to grow you this big?”

Jerry felt Dean’s body stiffen against him. A moment passed where they each held their breath. Jerry felt Dean’s body relax minutely against him as he took a deep breath and replied, “You try walking into your hotel room and finding a beautiful boy in your bed. A boy who showers you with affection and kisses you and tells you he loves you every day and then you tell me.”

Jerry had a feeling that Dean was only able to be so candid because they weren’t lying face to face. He felt that lump back in his throat for an entirely different reason and turned his head to wipe the moisture suddenly collected in the corners of his eyes on the pillow.

“Jerry?” Dean sounded slightly concerned, although his concern clearly hadn’t extended far enough to affect his nine pound hammer, still erect in Jerry’s hand.

“Yeah?” Jerry replied.

“Move. Please.” Dean sounded wrecked. His rollercoaster of an evening, combined with unwitting declarations and unexpected emotion evidently had him near the end of whatever rope to which he was attached.

Jerry moved his hand firmly along Dean’s cock and the groan it ripped from him caused chills to run up and down Jerry’s spine. He wished he could see Dean’s face, but there was just no possible angle for it.

There would always be a next time. For now, there was this.

Jerry rolled his hips up against Dean’s ass again, feeling their firmness against his cock, and their heat through his threadbare pyjama bottoms.

He moaned into Dean’s ear and felt the cock in his hand twitch.

“Fuck, Dean.”

Dean’s hips jerked forward, thrusting his cock through Jerry’s palm. As they moved backwards, his ass rubbed up against Jerry’s cock.

After a few jerky movements and uncoordinated thrusts, they soon got a rhythm going. Jerry led the movements, rolling his hips sinuously against Dean, and stroking in counterpoint.


“Yeah, Dean?”

“I want you.”


“Harder, Jerry. Press against me harder.”

Jerry didn’t need to be told twice. He started thrusting his hips hard against Dean. The implication was almost more than he could handle the thought of.

Dean wanted him thrusting hard up against him. Was it possible? Could Dean want Jerry to fuck him?

“Oh God, Dean. I’m going to come.”

The minute those words were out of Jerry’s mouth, he felt Dean shuddering against him. He felt the hot wetness explode over his hand as Dean reached his completion.

Jerry stroked Dean through the aftermath of his orgasm, wholly focussed on making his partner feel good.

He heard Dean whimper when the stimulation became too much. Removing his hand, he wiped its contents on the bedsheet.

Jerry was still painfully hard and trying not to disturb Dean in his afterglow. It surprised him when he felt Dean pushing back into him.

“Jer – you haven’t?”

“That’s okay, Dean. You just rest and enjoy.”

As Jerry lay on his side, having left a respectable if unconscionable distance between his cock and Dean’s ass, he saw Dean’s head turn to look at him.

Dean’s dark brown eyes were bright, and he looked, in a word, content.

“I’m not going to rest until you are taken care of.” Dean’s relaxed voice and easy smile threatened to melt Jerry into a puddle then and there.

“Um,” Jerry stammered eloquently. He wasn’t entirely sure if that meant he should turn over and finish himself off. He was taken aback when Dean closed the distance between their hips, pushing his ass back against Jerry. Jerry closed his eyes, fighting for control against the sensation that was threatening to undo him.

“Come on, Jerry. I want to feel you come against me.” Dean’s tone was playful and he accompanied his words with a filthy roll of his hips, grinding up against Jerry’s cock.

“Wha –“ Jerry again spoke with the height of articulation and Dean chuckled at his incoherence.

“That’s what got me off, you know?” Dean arched his back, trying to push back harder into Jerry. “I couldn’t help it. The thought of you – God Jerry – taking me.”

The growl that Jerry emitted then was pure animal lust. He placed his left hand at Dean’s hip and pushed his own hips forward. While he took a minute to calm down, he trailed kisses around and along Dean’s neck, sucking a bruise on the side of it. He bit down gently as he started thrusting again.

Jerry didn’t know what all the implications of Dean’s words were, but the mere suggestion was enough to have him careening off the edge into pleasure in moments. His cock was nestled between Dean’s cheeks, pressing forward insistently, “Dean, I –“.

Jerry’s hips lost their rhythm and he stuttered out his orgasm against Dean, fingers digging bruises into Dean’s hipbone.

After a while, Jerry’s hips finally stopped moving and his cock softened. He felt Dean turn around to face him, and felt the soft pressure of Dean’s lips against his own.

Jerry’s eyes flew open.

Dean was kissing him. Dean had initiated a kiss with him. His partner Dean had just made the first move in a kiss, and not just a friendly, ~ hello ~ goodbye ~ happy birthday ~ welcome home ~ kiss, but a real soul-shattering, life-affirming kiss.

Jerry couldn’t help his lips cracking into a grin as he felt Dean’s arms wrap around his waist.

He could feel Dean’s tongue against his lips, prying at the gap between them, begging admittance. His lips parted and he hadn’t been prepared for the insistent, sweeping exploration that followed.

Jerry’s elbows were tucked in, hands both pressing gently against Dean’s chest, a comforting affirmation that he was actually there. Dean was actually lying opposite him, kissing him.

Jerry finally gathered his wits and started joining in the kiss properly. He sucked on the tip of Dean’s tongue and stroked the sides of it with his own. His lips tingled as Dean moaned into the kiss. Jerry felt that the sounds he could have recorded right then would have rivalled Dean’s latest Capitol recordings.

Unfortunately, after several long minutes of this, they had to break for air.

Jerry felt Dean pull away, and opened his eyes to see him turning onto his back. He watched Dean take several long, shuddering breaths, his dazed eyes gazing at the ceiling.

Jerry sat up a little, resting on his right elbow. He looked down at Dean and Dean turned his head to smile at him.

Jerry placed his hand back on Dean’s chest, and felt Dean’s left arm come up to wrap around his shoulder, pulling him close for a cuddle.

Jerry pillowed his head on Dean’s chest, hearing Dean’s heartbeat slowing as the effects of his steadying breaths took hold. Their legs tangled comfortably together under the sheets.

“Night, Paul,” Jerry said, a broad grin creeping across his face as Dean’s hand brushed through the bristles of his hair.

“Night Jer. I love you.” Dean whispered into the top of Jerry’s head.

Jerry hugged Dean tighter.