#jimwen

Moonlight Chicken | Jim/Wen | 7k words

Summary:

“Do you trust me?” His heart could still be beating in his chest or maybe it had halted completely - at this point he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. It was a foreign feeling in some ways. Usually he was on the other side of this, looking down at Wen who always had the same devastating reverence written all over his face that was there now. So this was different, wasn’t it, to be so totally and wholly at the mercy of someone else? But then again wasn’t he always, with Wen? Then again didn’t he always want to be? - Jim has baggage; he can't put it down, but maybe Wen can help him carry it. Or: a study on Jim's past and ongoing relationship to intimacy.

Fic:

It felt almost like being a teenager sneaking around his own house, the way Wen pulled Jim into the bedroom by the wrist with a certain glint in his eyes. Not that he’d know what that was like - it wasn’t like he’d had much opportunity for it when he’d actually been a teenager, and much of the sneaking around he’d done since then hadn’t exactly been fun - but he liked to imagine this was close to what being young was like for other people, mostly because of how good it felt. Wen’s face was so close he could nearly taste his laughter as he leaned in to brush clumsy kisses against Jim’s jawline.

“Can you keep up, old man?” Wen whispered into his ear, breath hot against his skin. He wasn’t coy about what he wanted and wasn’t trying to be. Maybe at a different time Jim would play at ignorance just to see how riled up Wen would get but sometimes it was nice to accept his overtures openly and sincerely. Sometimes he liked not having to hide how much he wanted it too.