I don&#x27;t know who I am.

❝ open ❞

triplicispiralem:

He knows what he’s getting himself into before the question is even posed. “Get in here.” Oh, he’s sure all right.

[ jason wrinkles his nose slightly, still uncertain. but, he is exhausted. and wounded. so, he gives in and steps inside. ]

"hm. almost new year's."

[ drunk people were everywhere and jason had nearly no tolerance for their stupidity ]

#open;

steelhorseridingcowboy:

He chucks the shirt aside and was about to work on his jeans, but he’s tugged in for another kiss. Bracing against the bed with one hand, the other stroking over Jason’s torso.

jason arches up slightly into dean's hand when fingertips brush over a newer scar on his chest. "fuck-- i missed you so much," he murmurs against the hunter's lips, slate-blue eyes dark.

❝ open ❞

triplicispiralem:

Derek doesn’t say anything – but he steps back to let the other into his loft.

[ he watches the

other for a moment, like he's not sure if he can trust the wolf or not ]

"... you sure?"

[ he's dangerous after all ]

steelhorseridingcowboy:

The seasoned hunter steadies himself; making sure to have a good hold on the assassin before moving them away from the wall. His tongue strokes across teeth and the assassin’s tongue as he moves them for the bed, tumbling onto it – breaking the kiss only to peel off his shirt.

jason works out of his own shirt. there's fading bruises along his torso but it's certainly nothing new for jason and the assassin pays it no mind as he pulls the brunet into another kiss.

❝ open ❞

triplicispiralem:

“—You look bone tired.” That’s not the answer he wants and Derek knows it.

"you could say that."

[ people weren't always straight-forward he's long since learned that. ]

steelhorseridingcowboy:

Lapping across the seam of the assassin’s lips – his tongue was greedy for more, wanting to explore the warm caverns of Jason’s mouth. One hand comes to the back of Jason’s neck and he will groan into the kiss, he’s been too long without this.

jason parts his lips, giving the hunter allowance to what he wants. somewhat gingerly, he shifts to pull himself up -- slighter of frame than dean is. his legs hook around the brunet's hips and the assassin nips gently at dean's tongue.

❝ open ❞

triplicispiralem:

There’s a scent to this one that is different. Old blood. “That’s it?”

"... actually, if you could point me toward the closest hotel?"

#triplicispiralem #shhh

steelhorseridingcowboy:

Dean doesn’t really need to answer this – that look in his eyes – gold flecks dancing in emerald depths. Pushing in close, hands splayed on the wall. Either side of Jason. His mouth catches the assassin’s in a rough, heated kiss.

hands come up to curl into dean's hair, a low noise tumbling from him as he returns the kiss -- having missed the taste of dean's lips and being so close to the hunter. jason didn't like not being the one in control, but he often found with dean that he could relinquish that. dean could reign him in, keep him grounded if he started to lose himself in memories.

steelhorseridingcowboy:

He snorts, rolling his tongue over his front row of teeth. Punching him doesn’t seem so appetizing right now. Though he’s up, snagging Jason by the collar, slamming his back into the wall. “I should,” He swallows, emerald gaze dark. “but I don’t want to.”

jason could easily overpower dean -- they both know that. but it's the t r u s t he has in the hunter that keeps him from squirming away when his back hits the wall. he can feel a dull ache of old wounds radiating from his back but he pays it no mind, watching the brunet. "then what do you want to do?"

❝ open ❞

triplicispiralem:

“Something on your mind?”

"Just passing by, actually."

steelhorseridingcowboy:

It’s a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He just sighs out and scrapes his tongue across his bottom lip. That’s what is winning out here; how much he’s missed Jason. Not anything else. “Missed y’too.”

he shifts his weight slightly, hands tucking into his pockets. "you can punch me if you want." his brows raise slightly as he speaks, slate-blues not straying from the hunter. they're both used to the other being gone for a long time -- but this is a bit more-so than usual.

steelhorseridingcowboy:

He wants to punch Jason in the face – it’s always too long since he’s seen him last – and he doesn’t like that. Not one bit. He scowls, but it immediately dissipates. Because he’s glad to see him, despite the urge to slam him into a wall.

“Hey.” He pushes the unfinished bottle away.

he knows that dean is probably angry with him -- he would be, too. but jason merely shakes the thought aside as he pushes away from the wall, slate-blue eyes soft.

"missed you."

steelhorseridingcowboy:

Dean promptly chokes against the neck of the bottle – coughing and clearing his throat. “Damn it all to hell Jase,” He mutters in that deep voice of his, though emerald gaze shifts towards the assassin.

he can't help the [smile] that works across his face dean is a quiet sort of home he can't explain

"hey, dean." it's said softly as he shuts the door behind him, leaning against the wall lightly.