Sin and Cinnamon

Snippet written for phantisma who wanted Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Early Morning and beard scruffiness.

Their bodies, which fit so effortlessly during sex, never seemed to meet quite right in the stillness afterward. They curled into each other anyway, like puzzle pieces that have warped in the rain, blaming the desire for contact on the cold fucking winter nights and ignoring the sheen of still-fresh sweat that belied the excuse. Their limbs were a jumble as their breathing steadied and slowed, the early twilight before dawn creeping around the edge of the windowshade. Jensen closed his eyes against it, pretending that time wasn't moving, that this moment would last as long as they needed it to: sated but not yet sleeping, Jeff's chin sharp with stubble against the back of his neck, a silence that was not emptiness but a fullness that didn't need to be spoken.