Work Text:
The first time it crossed Healy’s mind was when he was picking Holly up after school with March. They were pulled up near the entrance, hood down, listening to the radio.
This was something they did now. It had been Holly’s idea, actually. Though March was more in control of his drinking, rather than the other way around, and he could be relied on to drive a car and trusted in remembering to pick up his daughter after school, she still didn’t want him behind the wheel. March didn’t blame her.
Healy drove instead. They picked Holly up together and it worked great, as they were both interested to hear how her day had gone right from the source, unlike one of them asking her again back at home, which didn’t work at all if she was in a bad mood.
Also, March had reluctantly told Healy that upon him accompanying them, Holly quite literally got a pep in her step the first few times she saw Healy sitting next to March in the car after exiting school.
So, five days a week, at around almost three o’clock, they found themselves here.
Healy was in the driver’s seat, reading glasses on his nose and newspaper in hand. March was in the passenger seat, sunglasses on and singing quietly along to the song on the radio, tapping the outside of the car door with his hand to match the beat.
“Do you think we should get ice cream? Hot as hell out today,” March stopped his singing to ask.
Healy stopped reading and looked up at the sky. It was a nice day, no clouds in the sky, perfect weather for all three of them to get some ice cream. They needed to pick up more groceries anyway.
Good day at school or not, they both knew it would make Holly real happy too.
Healy looked at March and smiled, “Good idea. Sure, let’s get some ice cream.”
March clenched his fist in celebration and hissed “yes”. Healy chucked lightly. Behind March, his eyes focused on their or— March’s teenage daughter. Holly was laughing, walking next to two other girls around her age.
Healy nudged his chin in her direction and March turned to look at her, a wide smile immediately appearing on his face. March waved, exaggeratedly.
Upon Holly seeing March, she put a hand in front of her eyes, shielding her view of him, and looked back at her two friends, saying something to them.
March’s smile fell and he stopped waving. He threw up his hands in confusion and looked back at Healy who was biting his lip in an effort to not laugh, taking off his reading glasses and folding the newspaper away.
“What’s her deal? What did I do?” March asked, voice high.
When Holly and Healy made eye contact, he gave her a soft smile and a small wave, “I think she wants you to be cool.”
“Oh, cool like you? Is that it? I’m not cool enough?”
Holly returned the wave to Healy, then turned her attention back to her friends. March looked at him in disbelief, then back at Holly, then back at Healy.
“Did she— Did she wave back at you just now?!” March asked, eyebrows raised.
Healy shrugged, not being able to stop the smile that tugged on his lips.
March scoffed, "Unbelievable.”
It looked like Holly finally said bye to the girls as they parted their separate ways and she started walking towards the car a tad faster. March looked back at her and then with a fake smile, attempted to copy how Healy had waved at her.
“Drive off without her,” March said through his teeth, still smiling at her. Healy laughed and lightly slapped March’s knee twice, “Relax.”
Once close enough, Holly threw her backpack in the backseat and jumped in after it, “Hey, dad,” her tone flat. She scooted over to the seat behind Healy, “Mr. Healy,” she said, more politely, and put on her seatbelt.
Healy looked at her through the front mirror and smiled again, “Hey, kid.”
March whipped around in the passenger seat to look at Holly. “What’s your deal? Am I not cool?” he asked, upset. Healy let out a deep sigh.
Holly noticed that other kids walking past the car overheard her father’s question and she cringed, leaning forward to smack his shoulder.
“No, dad! You’re not cool. Can we drive, please?”
Healy wasted no time starting the car. March was still looking at Holly, tongue in his cheek, offended. “You’re mean, you know that?” he told her, and shifted back forwards in his seat.
“We’re getting ice cream,” Healy said, changing the topic of conversation as he began driving off.
As soon as Holly opened her mouth to speak, March lifted up a finger, “Which was my idea by the way,” he pointed out.
Healy glanced at March, who seemed to actually be upset that Holly still didn’t find him cool. Healy found him adorable.
“Your un-cool dad thought it would be nice for all of us to get ice cream,” March said under his breath.
Holly ignored him, seeming done with talking entirely, and looked off to the side.
Healy, steering with his left hand, reached out his right and placed it on March’s thigh, squeezing it gently, trying to comfort him.
Holly put her arm on the side of the car where the window would be and watched the buildings pass by.
“How was school?” Healy asked, attempting to lighten the mood. The car slowed at a red light. She sighed, tapping her hand on the car as she thought, “It was fine.”
“Who were those two girls? Do I know them?” March interjected.
“Yes. They’re the two sisters I told you about a few days ago,” Holly replied and turned in her seat, putting her arm over the other and then rested her chin on top of it.
The car’s tires screeched slightly as the light turned green and Healy pressed his foot on the gas.
With the wind blowing and radio playing, the two men almost didn’t hear Holly as she said, “I wish I had a sister,” quietly to herself.
Neither of them moved, still looking forward for a few moments, sitting with the words.
This was something Holly had never mentioned before, not even when she was much younger. March and Healy, without turning their heads, looked at each other for a couple of seconds.
Healy gave March’s thigh another gentle squeeze. March reached to turn up the music.
They never brought it up or talked about it. Mostly because there wasn’t a lot to say. Biologically there is no way for them to have a child, and adoption isn’t an option.
Their family was already seen as odd, even before Healy had entered it. Holly had to put up with a lot after her mother’s passing. Word spread fast about her father’s drinking. She had to learn a lot of things way before her peers would, and toughen up quickly. As far as March knows, Holly was never bullied, or she never told him.
After everything that’s happened, one thing is for sure, Holly’s a smart girl. She knows how to handle herself, and March is extremely proud of her for that, though guilt still eats him alive for not being the father that she needed during the worst time of their lives.
That being said, the rumors that have been on and off circulating about her dad and his friend haven’t bothered her in the slightest. Holly knows to ignore them, and she surrounds herself with more than enough friends that don’t prod, and like her for her.
Holly hasn’t told March and Healy about these rumors. They still suspect without her needing to tell them anything.
Kids will talk, it’s what they do. What they have isn’t conventional, so it makes sense.
Still, it isn’t anybody’s business but their own.
But even knowing the impossibility of it, and society’s eavesdropping that’ll never leave them alone for being the family they are, Healy couldn’t stop thinking about what Holly said.
All his life, Healy never really wanted kids, didn’t think he’d be good with them. That was until Holland March and his daughter Holly came into his life, and everything changed.
Healy, to his own complete surprise, had fallen in love, and getting to raise this man’s daughter, who by this point he saw as his own as well, was a blessing and something he thought he could never have or enjoy.
It was like everything, for the first time in his life, made perfect sense.
It’s not always easy, Holland March tests his patience every single day, and unfortunately, Holly does take after her father at times. But even during the lows, Healy has never been more sure he’s where he’s supposed to be.
Teaching Holly how to fight, helping her with her homework when she asks, the drama that follows after Holly asks Healy something he’ll say yes to, unbeknownst to him, she just asked March and he told her no, the two of them falling asleep on Healy’s shoulders either side of him while they watch TV, It’s all perfect.
Even though that day in the diner might still be the best day of Healy’s life, he finds himself feeling useful every day now.
Holland March and Holly, the two people he considers his family, need him. They rely on him. They’ve given Healy’s life a true purpose, something he had been searching for for a long time.
Hell, Jackson’s never been happier he got cheated on and divorced. Without those dominoes falling, maybe he never would’ve met Holland March and the angel that is his daughter.
So now, when thinking about raising another young girl with March, giving Holly a sister to spend time with and love, Healy’s heart ached.
Something burned hot inside him, a deep yearning, a newfound desire — Jackson Healy wanted to get Holland March pregnant.
He wanted the sleepless nights, the picking of outfits accompanied by Holly so she’d have the most fashionable little sister ever, the image of toys scattered around their house, etc.
March would be a natural, know what to do, if he didn’t, Healy’d have read enough books to know where to start.
Healy felt like he was silently losing his mind.
A few weeks after that, they were pulling up in their driveway after having just dropped Holly off at some party she said one of her friends was having.
With the whole day and evening to themselves, and no worries about needing to be quiet, they wasted no time getting inside the house.
Once the door was shut, Healy grabbed March’s waist and walked him back up against it before crashing their lips together. March let out a satisfying moan and wrapped his arms around Healy’s shoulders.
They kissed passionately, Healy’s hands tightened their grip on March’s waist, he loved how small it was. Healy licked over March’s parted lips. When March opened his mouth wider, Healy pushed his tongue inside.
Their tongues swept against each other. It was sloppy, hot, and Healy swallowed down each of his partner’s needy sounds.
Healy kicked March’s legs wider apart before slotting one of his own between them, earning a loud and needy moan from March as they continued to kiss.
Healy snuck his hands underneath March’s shirt, sliding his hands over the warm flesh, making March shiver.
When Healy pulled away, a string of saliva connected their tongues, which split and then fell against March’s chin. Healy stood there for a couple seconds, looking at March’s face.
“God, you’re pretty,” he whispered, then placed a kiss near March’s lips.
“Shut up— Ah, shitshit,” March trembled, pressed his lips into a tight line and moaned as he felt one of Healy’s thumbs brush against his right nipple then pinch it.
Healy’s other hand slid to the small of March’s back, attempting to pull him even closer.
“Yeah, do that again,” Healy told him, rubbing the nub in small circles. March panted, throwing his head back against the door, eyes squeezed shut, focusing on Healy’s fingers. “Do what—”
March’s back arched and he moaned again, the moan dissolving into a whimper as Healy pinched the nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger again. Healy nodded, pleased, eyes still boring down on March’s face.
“That,” Healy replied simply. “You look and sound so pretty, baby,”
March only whined in response, his hips stuttering against Healy’s thigh.
Pet names were a thing for them now. Or at least they were to Healy. March was yet to call the older man by anything other than his first and last name.
Asshole, fucker, piece of shit, and other words along those lines obviously didn’t count.
Healy, however, loved using them. ‘Sweetheart’, ‘love’, ‘doll’, and especially ‘baby’ were popular.
March insisted he hated them at first, but the way he’d get flustered and shy whenever Healy used them begged to differ. So, every now and then Healy sprinkled some in.
Healy decided to try twisting the nub which made March gasp out beautiful, little “Ah-ah-ah’’’s for moans.
He repeated the same process for the other nipple, delighting in watching March turn into a needy mess, all at Healy’s fingertips.
When he decided it was enough, he slid his hand to rest back on March’s waist. Healy leaned in and kissed March’s chin before peppering more kisses along the jaw, leading up to his left ear, which he also kissed, then licked and gently bit the lobe of.
March shuddered, a small whimper escaping him and one of his hands slid to grip the hair at the nape of Healy’s neck, making him grunt in return.
“Where do you want it?” Healy rasped into March’s ear before kissing down his neck. He felt March’s cock twitch against him.
“Fuck— Bedroom,” March cursed, breathing heavily and hissing when Healy kissed his neck with more pressure then bit the skin before licking over the area. As much as Healy wanted to cover the blonde’s neck in bruises, he decided better not.
They had a reputation to uphold, or more accurately build, at work. They were professionals and couldn’t be showing up to meet clients with lovebites across their necks like teenagers. Healy’ll settle on other parts of March’s body.
Healy slid one of his hands out from underneath March’s shirt and instead went up to grab the collar of it, pulling it aside so he could see his right collarbone. He spent a minute there, forming dark bruises on one while March’s hand twitched in his hair, before pulling the shirt collar to the other side and marking up the other one.
He grabbed March’s face and tilted his head down, pulling him in for another kiss.
“Okay, hold tight,” Healy breathed against March’s lips.
His hands slid over March’s backside over to his thighs. Then, in one swoop he lifted March up off the ground. March’s hands gripped Healy’s shoulders and his legs found themselves locking around Healy’s hips.
“Still got it,” Healy said to himself, which made March furrow his eyebrows.
“What, are you implying that I’m heavy?”
Healy chuckled, “Not at all. It’s just been a while since I last trained my arms.”
March nodded his head suspiciously, then bit his lip as his mind wandered to conjure up what Healy looked like in the gym. Lifting weights, his dark hair pushed back, face and chest drenched in sweat.
March rested his face in the crook of Healy’s neck and hummed.
Every few steps March placed soft, wet kisses on his neck while Healy walked them to the bedroom.
When they had made their way inside, Healy walked to the bed and dropped March carelessly onto it, which made March let out a dramatic gasp.
“Hey! Careful. You break another limb of mine, you’re paying for it.”
“It’s the bed, not the floor. Didn’t know you were so fragile.”
“I’m not.”
“Wanna test that?”
March raised his eyebrows. Healy was smirking, body language smug.
“Alright, tough guy,” March replied. They both smiled at each other.
Healy began taking off his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt, March did the same, undressing himself as quickly as possible. Both already missing each other’s body heat.
The sunset was coming in through the window, shining beautifully down on March, making it look as if he was glowing.
Now being left in only their underwear, Healy walked closer to the bed and pushed March down against it so he was flat on his back. Slowly, he climbed atop the bed and spread March’s legs, making space for himself to settle and crawl between them.
Healy sat comfortably between March’s legs. March just breathed deeply, resting his hands above his head, waiting for Healy’s next move. With the sun dancing across his skin, March reminded Healy of a marble statue.
“You’re gorgeous,” Healy whispered, thinking out loud.
March heard him clearly, voicing a small moan in his throat and biting his rosy lower lip. Healy took March’s left leg in his hand and bent it, placed a starting kiss on his foot, then peppered long, slow kisses upwards all across the skin, then laid the leg flat again.
Though Healy just promised to try and see how fragile March was, or wasn't, he wanted to see him like clay in his hands, treat him with care first before getting rough with him.
They didn’t usually have time to take it slow in the first place. They had a teenage daughter to watch out for and keep track of her whereabouts as they didn’t want to scar her.
Healy crawled up the bed, as to continue comfortably kissing up his thigh. He took a small detour to kiss his inner thigh a few times, knowing how sensitive March was there. He made sure to give a light bite on the very soft skin there, and as expected March let out a delicious, shaky gasp. Healy smiled against his skin.
He could see pre-come ooze out through the tip of March’s cock, forming a small wet blot on his underwear. He leaned in and kissed the side of it, watching as March’s thighs tensed for a moment and he let out a soft moan.
“Healy…” March whispered, breathless.
Leaving March’s cock untouched, Healy continued his path upwards. The kisses were long and wet, as Healy inserted his tongue into the mix.
He kissed across his hip, dragging his bottom lip to where he was going to kiss him next. When Healy looked up, he saw March watching him carefully, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and dry.
March felt Healy’s smile on his skin again and watched as the older man’s eyes fell back shut before he continued.
Kisses were placed all across his abdomen, leading up his chest. When Healy’s mouth latched onto a nipple, March’s back arched and Healy hummed.
He gave a few light sucks, lightly nibbled on it, then pulled it before letting it fall back. Healy shifted towards the other nipple and repeated what he previously did. March whined, not taking his eyes off of Healy.
“Shhhh,” Healy whispered, one of his hands going to cup March’s face, who immediately leaned into the touch. Healy didn’t linger too much on his neck, crawling further up the bed as he kissed his way to March’s face.
They stared at one another, breathing together. March’s eyes were shiny. Healy swiped his thumb to caress March’s cheek, then bent down to kiss his forehead. March wrapped his hands around Healy’s wrist, caressing it as well, closing his eyes again.
In their early days, this wouldn’t have been possible at all. March would’ve kicked him off the bed if Healy tried to be this slow and gentle with him, as March only wanted fast and rough sex. God forbid he thought too much about what they were doing. It scared him.
But things are different, have been for a while. He’s not that shy anymore when Healy decides to take things slow, and this headspace March is able to slip into because of it is always a nice reward for his bravery.
Healy kissed his eyelids, cheekbones, temples, the bridge of his nose, and finally, his lips.
March immediately moaned and held Healy’s face in his hands, kissing him back desperately.
When Healy pulled away, March whined quietly. He swiped his thumb across March’s cheek again before leaning in close to his ear.
“Still want it rough, beautiful?”
March breathed for a few seconds, mulling it over, then nodded. That’s all Healy needed.
Healy pushed himself back and was rough in his movements as he manhandled March around onto his stomach, then grabbed both of his hands and pinned them to his back. March laughed, then bit his lip, shifting his face to the side on the pillow.
March tried to free his hands, just to test him, but Healy had him good. He bit into his bottom lip harder. It’s moments like this where he got reminded how much bigger Healy was than him, how much stronger. It made him dizzy.
“Keep your hands there,” Healy told him, voice rough. He let go of March’s wrists and instead dug his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down.
March let out a little gasp and pressed the front of his face into the pillow, feeling his exposed dick between the mattress and his stomach.
He felt the weight of the mattress shift and some rustling, March’s heart was pounding in his ears.
March, ever curious, shifted his face on its side for a moment, realized the rustling had been Healy looking through the nightstand, then pressed his forehead against the pillow again.
Healy forced March’s thighs further apart and settled back between them. As Healy squirted a generous amount of lube on his fingers, he placed his free hand on March’s left cheek, rubbing it for a moment before pushing it to the side a bit, opening March more and giving him a better view.
Not bothering to wait for the liquid to warm a little bit, Healy presses his middle finger, cold and slippery, against March’s hole and circles it.
He hears March gasp and quickly get ahold of his right hand’s wrist in an effort to not move them from where Healy left them, otherwise he’d have his hands gripping the sheets. Cute, Healy thought to himself.
March’s legs trembled, and he let out a shaky exhale, feeling Healy push the digit inside. Healy watched March swallow him.
“So tight,” Healy whispered, barely audible. He breathed deeply, thinking about the pregnancy risk that unprotected sex brought, as they were only using lube.
There was obviously more to it and one of the most important things was they were both men, rendering the fantasy null, but Healy wasn’t thinking clearly, he hadn’t been for the past few weeks.
The thought of Healy being able to give March a child made him shakily exhale and his cock twitch.
A loud moan escaped March, and his breath caught in his throat when he felt Healy push in another finger, barely having given enough time for the man to relax around the first.
March’s legs shifted, he pushed himself slightly up on his knees, his chest pressing into the mattress while his ass was slightly elevated. It worked in Healy’s favor, as this only exposed more of him and gave him a better angle.
Slowly, he added pressure and pushed the two fingers further inside of March, who made a broken sound. Even with the lube, the stretch burned and to March the pain was euphoric. He loved it.
Reaching the knuckles, Healy pulled the fingers back before sliding them inside again, just as deep.
“You take me so well,” Healy commented, still lost in his train of thought.
March’s fingers were clenching and twisting in the empty air while he made desperate sounds, the burn was starting to fade and twist more into pleasure.
His cock ached, he thrusted forward into the mattress to give himself some relief, then pushed back against Healy’s hand.
“Like you were made for this,” Healy whispered, voice low, and March whimpered.
The prep stage was one of Healy’s favorite things, he could take his time and really see March fall apart and turn him into a begging mess if he wanted to. A lot of the time, the begging came naturally to March anyway.
Healy’d formed a nice rhythm working his fingers inside and out, scissoring them just slightly to hear March hiss and whine.
When Healy decided to curl his fingers and hit the sweet bundle of nerves inside of him, March moaned, much too loud. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth, the other fisted itself in the bedsheets.
“Jack—Oh, fuck,” March moaned, voice muffled into his palm. “I’m so—rry— Shit, I’m sorry,” March whined, breath shaky, realizing he’d removed his hands from behind his back.
Healy tsked behind him, disapproving. “Get your hand off of your mouth,” Healy told him, not addressing the apologies.
They were finally completely alone for the first time in a while. Trying to be quiet should be considered a sin.
Then after a moment, when March took his hand away from his mouth and fisted it in the bedsheets as well, suddenly came a sharp and painful smack on his ass’s left cheek, and another curl of Healy’s fingers followed, brushing against the spot that made March see stars.
March keened, back arching down further and pushing forcefully back against Healy’s hand.
Healy hummed to himself, impatient to get a better angle of the curve of his back when he’ll get to fucking inside of him.
The third finger is a little harder, the burning stretch making itself known again to March. But he takes it like a champ. Healy finds a rhythm as he works the three fingers in and out of him, and more filthy sounds come out of his partner’s mouth.
“Please— God, please,” March begged, knuckles white from gripping the bedsheets. Healy’s meaty fingers were perfect, but he was aching to be filled properly.
A sob tore itself out of him when Healy curled his fingers again.
“My mind’s been racing lately,” Healy began his confession as he pulled his fingers out of March. The empty feeling made March let out weak sob, hole clenching around nothing.
Healy took the lube bottle again and squeezed a good amount in the palm of his right hand, he shut it and threw it off to the side.
“I can’t stop thinking about—” Healy swallowed a groan as he stroked himself lazily, “filling you up with my come enough times until it sticks.”
He placed his left foot along the outside of March’s left knee and grabbed March’s waist, roughly pulling him closer, making the man moan softly.
Healy held the base of his cock as he pushed it between March’s cheeks, teasing the stretched hole that flexed in anticipation.
“Fuck, March, I want to knock you up so bad,” Healy rasped, inhaling sharply as soon as he finished the sentence.
“Ohmygod—” March suddenly cried at his words, shuddering, and pre-come wet the sheets beneath him and stuck to his skin.
Healy shifted himself closer, then slowly guided the head of his cock to March’s entrance and pushed inside. March’s eyes squeezed themselves shut and his mouth fell open in a silent yell.
Healy gripped March’s waist with enough pressure to bloom bruises at his fingertips.
March is tight and hot inside, clutching around Healy’s cock desperately.
“You want that?” Healy asked, voice strained and also vulnerable, pushing in deeper, watching as his cock fully disappeared into March.
“Want me to put a baby in you?”
March let out a loud, long whine that broke off into another sob. Healy could see the man nodding his head. Healy’s breath caught in his throat.
Months ago, if you’d told Holland March that he was gonna get off on another man fucking him in the ass and telling him he wants to get him pregnant, he would’ve tried to kill you. Of course he would have failed since he can barely do anything right, and then instead would've proceeded to go on a bender.
Fully sheathed inside, Healy reached forward and wrapped his hand around the nape of March’s neck, pushing him down into the mattress, making him arch further and show off the beautiful curve of his back.
March gulped air as he turned his face to the side, otherwise barely being able to breathe if he was facing forward.
Healy could see the way his face was glistening, wet with tears. He noticed how March’s eyebrows twitched for a second and his lip quivered.
“I want it so bad,” March confessed in a whisper, so quiet that Healy thought he’d imagined it.
Healy’s heart tightened in his chest. The animalistic lust that he felt for the blonde below him, the fondness, it was almost too much to bear.
In one smooth motion, Healy moved his hips, almost dragging his cock out of him, and then with all the force he could muster, slammed back inside.
March screamed, his left hand flying to hold on to Healy’s, which was bruising his waist, for support.
Jackson Healy didn’t believe in many things, finding himself only ever disappointed when he did. But right now, in this moment, lightheaded from all the blood in his head having gone to his cock, balls deep inside of his partner, he believed if he willed it hard enough, he could get Holland March pregnant.
Healy repeated the motion again, almost pulling out before slamming back in and fucking March hard into the mattress, earning another choked, high-pitched yell.
“After we’ve re-built that house in the empty lot—” Healy rasped, a shaky breath as he pulled out, “We could find room for a nursery. I’d handle it all, wouldn’t have you lift a finger—”
Another rough slam of Healy’s hips against March’s, bringing the headboard of the bed crashing into the wall in front of them.
“You’d just— Ah, fuck,” Healy’s voice pitched higher for a second, “look after the baby inyourwomb—”
Tears were falling from March’s eyes freely now, each loud moan torn out of his lungs ending in a sob.
Healy, while keeping his pace, removed his hand off of March’s waist. He intertwined his fingers with March’s hand that had been holding onto it and placed it next to March’s head.
He draped himself over March’s back like a heavy blanket, the hand that had been holding the nape of his neck took hold of March’s other hand and, while holding it, slid their hands underneath March’s chest, hugging him.
Healy was fully on top of him now, he was all that March could feel, smell, and hear.
Healy paused his thrusts for a moment to spread March’s thighs as much as they allowed, then placed his knees on either outer side of March’s, and then locked his feet somewhere near his inner ankles so March couldn’t close or move his legs at all.
Healy latched his teeth into March’s shoulder, tasting sweat, and continued slamming into him. He was speeding up, not taking as long anymore to draw out before thrusting back inside.
The weight of Healy on top of March, holding him this close, grunting and pushing his teeth deeper inside of his shoulder at the end of every thrust, surely this spell of March not being able to die had worn off and somehow it had finally happened. Did God mess up and put Holland March in heaven?
If so, March was ready to beg for forgiveness, repent, do whatever was asked of him so he could stay like this forever.
“Jack, I’m close—” March cried, voice hoarse, first words from him in a while, his vocabulary having left him a dozen thrusts ago.
Healy withdrew his teeth, leaving behind some deep teeth marks. He kissed March’s nape and pressed his forehead into his back. He could feel beads of sweat rolling off him.
“I want to give Holly the little sister she wants—” Healy growled, and with newfound energy he drilled into March even harder.
“Want to provide for you—” Healy let go of March’s hand that he had been holding against March’s chest, and slid his empty hand down towards March’s leaking, neglected cock.
Healy wrapped his hand around it, feeling how hot and wet it was before he stroked it in time with his thrusts. March mewled under him.
“Oh, God, Holland—“ Healy whispered, hips stuttering, “I love you, baby.”
March choked out a loud, broken whimper as his orgasm hit him like a train. He spilled all over Healy’s still moving hand, his stomach, and the sheets underneath him.
Healy fucked him through it, and with a couple more hard thrusts, he stilled as he came inside of March with a stifled, drawn-out groan.
March could feel Healy trying to push inside even deeper, pulsing against his walls, filling him up deliciously with every long spurt of come. He whimpered at the sensation, another salty tear rolling down his cheek.
They stayed like that for a couple minutes. Breathing slowly, drenched in sweat, bodies twitching now and then from the aftershocks. March was still clenching every few seconds around the softening cock still inside him.
Healy lifted his head a little and kissed the back of March’s neck once, twice, three times. Then let go of the hand he’d intertwined his fingers with.
As gently and as slowly as Healy could, he began pulling out. March’s legs trembled, and he whined softly, going from stretched full to empty.
Healy sat back, panting, and watched as his come slowly started to spill back out of March. Another small whine came from the blonde.
He reached forward, spreading March just a little to admire the view. Before the seed could start running down the inside of March’s thighs, Healy stopped it in its tracks with his thumb and gently pushed it back inside him. He didn’t want a drop to be wasted.
March moaned quietly and shuddered, thighs trembling again at the intrusion. Healy rubbed his hand over one of March’s cheeks, soothing, and whispered a little “Sorry, baby.”
After a few moments, even though he was tired as all hell, the bed shifted when Healy got out of it and walked to the bathroom. When he returned, he was holding a wrung out and wet, warm washcloth.
March, hands limp laying on the sheets at his sides, the front of his face pressing into the mattress, still had not moved a muscle. Healy bit his cheek, smiling to himself and walked back to the bed. It creaked as he sat down on the edge of it.
Healy leaned forward and used his free hand to rub up and down March’s back.
“Can you roll over for me?” Healy asked, voice gentle.
After a few moments of nothing, March, with effort, rolled over on his back, his eyes shut.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Healy carefully wiped down March, his soft skin and then body hair, not wanting the come to dry in it.
It was funny, just how natural and right it felt for Healy to take care of March, considering the very first time that they met and how all that played out.
Healy is literally a professional at dishing out pain and finds it to be a great deal of fun too. Also, as it turns out, March loves getting hurt in the bedroom. Who would’ve thought. Maybe they really are made for each other.
But Healy’d forgotten how good it felt to just love, to heal instead of break.
March needed the care too, Healy wondered how he’d survived before he came along. The guy’s fridge had always been pretty much empty, and he was lucky if he remembered to eat more than once a day at all. Also, when he ate, it was nothing healthy.
Healy was considering picking up a cook book. Holly would love to join in too and she’d force March to learn a thing or two as well.
When finished, he threw the towel aside and crawled higher up the bed so he could be next to March, and then collapsed. He used the last of his strength to jog himself up, his back against the headboard.
Healy looked at March again and ran a hand through his short blonde locks, “You still with me?” Healy asked and soothingly scratched his scalp.
After a moment, came a quiet, muffled hum. Healy smiled.
He took a deep breath and continued to pet March’s head. The room was completely silent, save for their breathing and the sound of the clock ticking.
Healy looked down at his gut and put his free hand to rest on top of it.
It wasn’t that he was self-conscious. He knew he was attractive. Smoking even.
After his ex-wife’s betrayal, he’d gone back to dabble in some underground clubs and bars. Healy’d discovered he was what some circles referred to as a ‘Bear’. He was large and in charge, a strong and hairy man. From then on he wore that title and himself with a lot more pride.
The thing is, God, he was old. He could admit that. He felt it in his bones every morning when he woke up. Good thing March was only seventeen years behind him and, he too, didn’t feel that he was as young as he used to be.
Life isn’t fair, he’d realized that a very long time ago, but Healy still found it cruel that it took him fifty-two years to get him here. Happy and with a purpose.
He wouldn’t change a thing though, if he did, nothing would be as it is now. Holland March and Jackson Healy had to suffer through all the things they did in order for them to meet.
He’d make all the same mistakes over again, if it meant he’d get to Holland and Holly March in the end, Healy thought to himself.
Healy was pulled out of his thoughts and raised an eyebrow, seeing March’s arms move at a turtle’s pace as he brought himself to rest on his elbows. Then, March pressed his palms into the mattress and trembled as he pushed himself further up and settled with his back against the headboard like Healy, March’s left shoulder touching Healy’s right.
“I break anything?” Healy asked. March looked confused for a second until it hit him and he rolled his eyes. “D’you think you should get a ‘handle with care’ tattoo?”
“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
Healy lifted his right arm slightly and wrapped it around March's waist. March slumped into him, his head falling to rest on Healy’s shoulder.
The room faded into silence again.
The elephant in the room. They were both thinking about it. Everything that Healy said.
All of it was fantasy.
Healy literally impregnating March aside, the process of adoption was much too complicated and the world they lived in was simply just too far behind. They’d never be fit to adopt a child. People like them can’t even feel safe holding hands in public.
Though Jackson Healy will never be a legal guardian to Holly and have shared parental rights, the three of them live as freely as they can, and it’s enough.
“Holly’d be the best big sister,” March whispered, breaking the silence and proving to Healy the same thing was heavy on his mind too.
Healy smiled sadly and nodded his head. He squeezed March closer to him by his waist.
“Yeah, she would be,” Healy agreed, his voice just as quiet as March’s.
After a moment, March cleared his throat before speaking again, “We wouldn’t raise another little monster like her though.”
Both of their shoulders shook with laughter. Healy ignored the way his heart swelled at the ‘we’.
“I won’t be bullied by two of my own children,” March said, voice suddenly serious, trying not to laugh.
“Of course not,” Healy said, shaking his head and chuckling.
Another moment of silence. March was fidgeting with his hands.
“I love you too, by the way,” March said, swallowing thickly.
Healy hummed. He turned his head to the right and placed a long kiss on the side of March’s head.
When he pulled away, he looked down at him for another moment and smiled at the cute little mole on March’s cheekbone.
Healy leaned down to lightly kiss it. “I bet there are women out there who’d die to have a beauty mark like that.”
March turned his head to the right as much as he could to try to hide it, as well as the light blush that he could feel creeping up his cheeks.
“A lot of ladies have to draw theirs on.”
“Shut up, will you?” March shouted, all bark and no bite. With his voice raised that high, you could hear just how hoarse it was from their activity before.
Healy chuckled again and turned his body more towards March, then reached out with left hand to cradle March’s face and make him look at him.
He kissed him soft and sweet. March, petty, didn’t kiss him back at first, but Healy was patient and the younger man came around quickly.
Pulling away, they rested their foreheads against each other, eyes closed and listening to the other’s breathing.
“... We should probably clean up,” Healy spoke, thinking of the dirty bedsheets and the piles of clothes they’d left on the floor near the bed. “And Holly needs to be picked up in like three hours. Best get decent.”
March hummed, then turned to face forward and put his head back on Healy’s shoulder. “‘Kay. Just let me rest my eyes for a sec.”
Healy cradled March against him and smiled, shutting his eyes. “Alright. Just for a sec.”
Hours later they’d arrive near the front of the house where they’d dropped Holly off just a few hours before. Healy in the driver’s seat, March next to him in the passenger. Holly’d talk their ears off about what happened at the party and the games they played, and get frustrated when March would mix up her friends' names, and she’d have to correct him for the millionth time on who was who.
On the way back home and with barely enough time before closing, they’d make a quick stop to pick up some ice cream. Just because.