The rain outside drummed softly against the roof of Mort Rainey’s cabin, filling the cabin with it’s quiet, droning hum. Dean was in the kitchen, cleaning up the last bits of their dinner--fettuccini and chicken--while Mort sat on the couch, sipping his wine thoughtfully.
It had been a quiet, uneventful evening, and Dean had been gone most of the day, in the city miles away doing his work. Mort--like always--sat at home and tried to write.
Today had been particularly frustrating and discouraging.
“Feel like some dessert, babe?” Dean called from the kitchen.
The blonde glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. “No…nothing for me.” he replied softly, taking another drink of the red liquid in the glass.
Dean came out, drying his soapy hands on a dish towel. “No sweet tooth tonight?” he asked with a little smirk as he looked down at his lover. Mort didn’t seem to respond. He just stared blankly into the space in front of him.
“Mort?” Dean asked.
The blonde looked up at him and force a quick smile. “Yeah?”
Dean stood in front of him, looking at him curiously. “What’s the matter baby?” he asked, stroking Mort’s cheek, letting his fingers play around the curve of his jaw.
Mort shook his head lightly, putting his hand against Dean’s and nuzzling into his palm. “I just don’t know how I got here sometimes.” he sighed. “I mean…I used to be a married man. I used to be successful writer. I used to have a lot of things…”
Corso looked at him carefully. “And what do you have now?” he asked.
Mort looked up at him and smiled lightly. “You.”
Dean got down on his knees in front of the shorter man, kissing him warmly. Mort leaned back against the cushions of his beloved couch, pulling Dean along with him, pressing his open lips against Corso’s, as the dark haired man ran his tongue along Mort’s lower lip softly.
They pulled back after a moment, Dean kissing Mort’s cheek softly, pulling his fingers through his messy wheat-colored hair. “Is that enough for you?”
Mort nodded, smiling shyly. “Just don’t ever go away, okay? Don’t leave me alone again.” he said. He cringed inwardly, realizing he sounded clingy and desperate, but even more so like a girl. It was something Amy would have said years ago, when they were first married.
“I’m not going anywhere, babe.” Dean promised, kissing his cheek and his neck and the tip of his ear. “You’ve got me, no matter what, okay?”
Mort kissed him harder, pulling him down onto the couch as they changed positions, falling slowly into the worn cushions. Dean laid on top of him, kissing him deeply and assuring and Mort wound his arms tightly around his body, fingers exploring his skin.
Dean rolled up Mort’s t-shirt, exposing his chest and stomach and started a slow line of kisses across Rainey’s skin, that were feather light and warm.
Mort sighed, watching him, tracing a lazy finger through the shock of silver at his lover’s temple. Few people could pull off the look as well as Corso did. It suited him.
The dark-haired man paused when he slid his tongue teasingly into Mort’s naval, making him giggle softly. “So…where are we going with this?” he asked softly. He hooked his long fingers into the waist band of Mort’s jeans teasingly.
Mort already had the warm flush across his face that made Dean melt. “Kiss me again.” Mort pleaded softly.
Dean crawled back up his body, wrapping his arms around him and rolling onto their side, kissing Mort passionately. He never wanted to let him go, not ever. Mort ran his fingers along the growing bulge in Dean’s jeans, stroking it softly with his finger tips to entice him.
Corso sighed softly at this teasing, which Mort was so good at, and pulled him in still closer so that there was no room to breathe.
Mort finally pulled his head back, gasping and Corso took the opportunity to run his tongue down the long length of Mort’s throat, grazing his teeth across his collar bone when he reached the bottom. Mort sighed warmly, twisting his hand through Dean’s neatly kempt hair, and taking a firm hold on him.
Corso pulled Mort’s jeans down with a tug--they came loose easily as Mort rarely wore a belt--and grasped him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Mort cried out, his hips rocking towards Dean’s hand and Corso smiled against his mouth.
“Can I take you upstairs?” he asked softly.
Mort nodded mutely. He hated the idea of losing contact with Dean for even a second at this point. They got up quickly, hurrying up the stairs. As they did Dean grabbed Mort’s rear in both hands and squeezed making Mort squeak and laugh.
They stumbled into the bed room and Mort tumbled onto the bed, pulling off the rest of his clothes hurriedly as Dean made a quick detour to the bathroom to fetch the bottle of lube.
Mort spread himself out provocatively on the bed, and Dean purred as he crawled onto the bed with him, kissing him again. “You’re so sexy when you do that…” Dean purred into Mort’s ear as he grabbed him again and Mort made a little gasp in response. “I love it.”
Mort chuckled, pulling Dean against him again, spreading his legs for him and biting softly into his shoulder which made Dean hiss hungrily, a smile spreading across his face. “Take me.” Mort pleaded softly.
Dean felt overwhelming love and lust in those two little words. Mort trusted him with so much, loved him entirely, and that made Dean feel dizzy and lightheaded. He lifted Mort’s hips, pushing against him slowly, waiting until both of them were entirely ready before pushing inside.
Mort let out a gasp, his head falling back to hit the pillow, his hair making a sun splash of yellow behind him against the pillow. Dean pressed a hand against his cheek. “I love the sound you make when I’m in you…” he sighed.
Mort whimpered, pushing his hips back against Dean’s. “I love you, Dean.”
Corso kissed him, pushing Mort’s legs almost up to his chest in the act and the smaller man whimpered against his lips. “And I love you…I love having you spread out under me like this, when you‘re so warm and tight.”
“You sweet-talking idiot,” Mort whimpered, pulling him still further so that Dean was in him to the hilt. “You got the moves to back up that sweet talk?” he chuckled.
Dean laughed, nipping Mort’s throat before starting up a quick session of thrusts which made Mort close his eyes, gasping loudly as he gripped Dean and the sheets.
“Oh…Ohhh…oh fuck yes, do that!” Mort panted as Dean rolled his hips.
“Mort…Mort…AH! Oh god!” Dean cried, feeling something new as Mort clenched his muscles around him.
Mort looked at him with darken lust-filled eyes. “Come on, love…come on…” he gasped, urging Dean to go deeper and faster. They were both grinding on each, bodies becoming slick with sweat as the air became almost too hot and heavy to breathe.
“Mort….!” Dean groaned raggedly.
Mort was breathless under him, making whimpering high gasps until sudden he arched his back with a yell. “Oh Dean YES!” he cried.
Dean groaned, watching Mort climax was too much for him. “Oh Mort…Mort AH! AHH YES!” Dean yelled as he shuddered, slamming into this lover two more times before releasing into him.

Instead of falling onto him, Dean flopped in a boneless heap next to him as Mort laid there, running his fingers through his own sweaty hair. “Oh God…oh God that was good…” he chuckled.
Dean snickered into the blankets, hearing Mort sing his praises in his exhausted, breathless voice. He flung out and arm, wrapping around the blonde’s torso and pulling him to him so that he could lay his head on his chest.
“Satisfied?”
Mort kissed Dean’s brow. “Always.”
“Good.” Dean chuckled. He laid his hand over Mort’s heart, which was still thudding wildly, and Rainey put his hand over his, fingers entwining. “You’re all I’ll ever need, Dean.”
Corso kissed his skin, smiling up at him.
Once their bodies had calmed, and the soreness in Mort’s thighs returned, they rolled over, finding a more comfortable position. Mort was tucked under Dean’s chin, hands curled between their bodies, with Dean’s under beneath their pillow and the other around Mort’s shoulders.
The rain continued outside as Corso mulled over the great responsibility that now lay before him. He held Mort Rainey’s heart, and he knew if were to ever be careless with it, it would destroy the other man. He kissed Mort’s temple and the sleeping man sighed softly against his neck. “I’ll never leave.” Corso promised.
“You’re mine, Mort. And no one can take you away from me.”
Mort made a small whimper in his sleep. A voice, very small inside his mind, answered Corso’s pledge.
“We’ll just see about that, boy.”