#hoebrien

i’m not in the teen wolf fandom but i’m a mutual and i’ve seen your posts

idk if this is true or not and i’m not sure if you knew but i thought it was cool !!

Hey!

Stiles: The only bags I have are the ones under my eyes and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence.

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Pictures of You and Us, part 1 - the photo

He sees the photo while he’s at a lunch meeting, and he knows his agent has important things he should be paying attention to, but all he can see is gold flecked green, tan skin and a shy smile.

He stares at his phone long enough that his agent leans over and peers at it and she smirks, sitting back. “He’s pretty.”

“He’s a friend,” JR says, and he isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince her or himself. All he knows is her eyebrows do something supremely unimpress and she shrugs.

“I know all about your friends, JR. Now pay attention, for like, five fucking minutes.”

He glares at her but pockets his phone and tries to act like a professional who gives a damn about his career.

~*~

<Bobo> Did you see?

<Bohan> of course I saw. It’s fucking splashed across Twitter.

<Bohan> it’s not fair that anyone be that good looking.

<Bobo> you should tell him.

<Bohan> you should keep your mouth shut.

<Bobo> that’s what you want me to do with my mouth? Really, babe?

<Bohan> for god’s sake, Ian.

<Bobo> you miss me yet?

~*~

He did miss Ian.

He always missed Ian, when they were apart. He missed Ian, when the other man drove the mile away to his house and left JR alone in the big bed that felt too big, too empty, without Ian’s loud, constantly moving presence to fill it up.

He missed Ian in a deep, abiding, familiar way, the ache of longing when he spent too much time away from home. It hurt in way that was easy to breathe through, if only because he knew how long he would be without Ian, easy to breathe through because he knew this was normal.

Part of being with Ian meant so often he was without him, without each other.

Tyler asked once, when Ian was in LA and he was busy filming and they'd spent almost a month with only phone calls and texts to sustain them. He asked, his eyes trained on Dylan, half asleep leaning against Holland, how they did it.

He asked, his voice soft and almost desperate, if it was worth it.

JR told Tyler yes, sitting on a lot and missing Ian like a fucking limb, and he meant it. He still means it.

~*~

<Bohan> you should go to the country more often.

<Hoech> you saw those?

<Hoech> god, i can’t believe--ha. Thanks.

<Bohan> you look good.

<Hoech> a talented photographer will do that.

<Bohan> fishing for compliments, kid?

<Hoech> would it work, if i did?

<Bohan> probably better than you think.

<Bohan> take care of Bobo for me.

<Hoech> always.

<Bohan> good boy.

~*~

He can't quit looking.

It's always been a problem, but it's worse right now.

It's worse because Ian is sending photos, Hoech half asleep and smiling, Hoech grinning shyly from behind a cup of coffee. Hoech, unaware and sunlit.

There's one of them leaning into each others space, and Ian looks happy, his usual shit eating smirk softened into something warm and it makes him ache with want.

He keeps cycling back, unable to look away from Tyler.

He's grown up since Teen Wolf. Grown into himself, but there's still that sweet earnestness in him that makes JR want to pull him into bed and protect him.

It's the same sweet earnestness that makes him want to drag him to bed and fuck him senseless.

It used to worry him because he was happy with Ian. They'd been together long enough that even the idea of fucking someone else was distressing. But Ian--Ian was a smart asshole, and dragged Hoechlin into their trailer, into their hotel rooms and houses until Hoech knew what they were, and it didn't startled him to see them together.

Sometimes, JR thought he saw envy in those beautiful eyes before Hoech looked away from them kissing, but he never said anything.

Ian did. Ian would send texts, new pictures that made JR flush and want. Would  murmur about Hoech’s broad shoulders rippling in the cool air on set, the way he always seemed so fucking eager to please them.

Ian fucked him, slow and teasing the way he knew drove JR insane and his voice would be tight and breathy as he said, “You want me to fuck you while Tyler sucks your cock, baby? Or do you want to fuck him? Get him spread out all over our bed, and work him open, while I blow you? He could ride you, while you rim me, you’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?”

He always came, hard enough his vision went grey around the edges, and Ian would laugh, after, and kiss him, sloppy and affectionate.

It settled something in him, when they did that. Made him think--this was ok. Wanting this was ok.

~*~

<Bohan> [image attached]

<Bobo> ooooh, darling. What did I do to earn that?

<Bohan> those pictures of Hoech and you.

<Bobo> i’m calling you.

~*~

“Hey, babe”

“God, Jay, you always sound so fucking good, when you’ve come.” The groan Ian gives is delicious, crawls up his spine, tingles there and makes him wish he could get hard again.

“Fucked out and half asleep?”

“Mmm. Still rumbly and low. It’s almost a growl against my skin. I like it.”

“You’re ridiculous.” If it were anyone else, he’d be embarrassed by the fondness in his voice.

“I’m not the one who got off because of a few sunset candids.”

“You knew I would.”

“I did. Was it good, baby?”

“Yeah.”

“It would have been better if you were here.”

“I told you to stay.” Ian sounds exasperated, but affectionate and JR wants to curl in his arms.

“That’s asking for trouble.”

“Or maybe it's taking the chance you want.”

~*~

He wakes to photos and a good morning text, and he scrolls through them.

Hoechlin looks beautiful, always. But face slack with sleep, hand fisted under his pillow, long lashes dusting his cheeks--he’s flawless, and JR wishes like hell he was there to see him wake up.

He flicks to a different text thread and smirks.

~*~

<Bohan> hear you're in town for a few weeks by yourself.

<Bohan> we should get lunch