I Won't Be Home for Christmas

The sun was a low ball just peaking over the horizon as she rose above him. Snow continued to fall in lazy waves outside, insuring the ground would be completely covered, giving hope for the chance to build snowmen. Her head was back in ecstasy, her long hair in dark locks around her shoulders and down her back as she used her thighs and stomach muscles to set a slow rhythm. Her hands ran up the length of her body, sliding slowly before tangling in her hair and pulling it from her face as her breathing deepened. Propped up by pillows, her husbands’ hands were on her hips, holding her steady and slow as he ran his eyes over her with want and need and desire, with love.

With each deep thrust, she would groan, her body temperature rising along with her need to go faster, go harder to reach that ever high peak of completion. A peak her husband was holding her back from. She cried out, from pleasure and frustration as he shifted her over him, angling her so that he could have more control over her movements. When he was satisfied, he settled one hand on her lower back for support and let the other roam. With eyes that burnt fire, he set his hand over her pregnant stomach with love and closed his eyes, waiting for the child within to press against his palm. He smiled, his breathing labored as his unborn son kicked hard and strong, the motion causing his wife’s eyes to shut tight and her mouth to fall open in a silent gasp.

To him, in the moments she was above him, taking him into her as she had before, loving him enough to grow with his children, she was the most beautiful. He loved the way her skin glowed, the way a constant pink was dusted over her high cheek bones, the way her body seemed to grow and grow but never seemed to get less amazing. He adored the way she’d cuddle up to him of a night but if he tried getting cuddly with her, she’d giggle and softly push him away. He loved the way she looked wearing his bathrobe or his clothes, the way her eyes lit up when he came home with chocolates, the way she smiled when he offered to cook dinner so that she could have a rest from it. He loved the way she sang the wrong words in the shower, the way she left him pictures on the mirror so when the bathroom steamed up from his shower he was the only one that could see them. He loved the way her body felt against his when they slept, the way her body rested perfectly against his when she agreed to have a bath with him, the way her face fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and the way her body arched under his, the way it curved when she was above him.

But with that all aside, he loved her. Just her, only her. And he hated hurting her.

Her movements had become erratic and desperate, her hips pressed forward as she tried to push harder and faster, trying urgently to get enough friction in order to orgasm. He watched the flush work its way up her chest, up her neck and into her cheeks as she moaned his named continuously, her breath shuddering, and knew she was at the peak of release; all he had to do was let her take the jump. Her screams were getting louder, the desperation in each cry being answered with his own groans of encouragement and arousal. Wanting to make it completely mind blowing, he slipped his hands down her front to rest on the junction between thigh and hip, and listened to the pleasant shock in her scream as he used his thumbs to work her over the edge of reason, the edge of coherency.

With an annoyed grunt, he stilled his movements as he looked to the bedside table, looked to the flashing mobile before he turned back to look over his wife. She shook her head; her eyes shut and mouth agape as she denied him the permission to answer it.

“Babe, its work.” He muttered as he looked back over as the phone stilled before it again began flashing and vibrating on the bedside table.

“I don’t care.” She gasped, her hips gyrating in need.

“I have to answer it.” He sighed as he took his hands off her body and made for the phone. She reached forward before him and grabbed the phone before lifting it above her head and holding it there as she continued her movements. He ran his eyes up the length of her body, his eyes stilling over her generous breasts before he shot up and wrapped his arms around her, his mouth opening before clamping shut over an aroused and hardened nipple.

“Yes.” Her breath was rough as she rode him, her body hot and tight as a bow as she got closer and closer. His mouth worked her expertly as he ran his hands up her body, up her arms before he gripped the phone and pulled it from her fingers as he lightly bit into her breast. She screamed out just as he pulled away, her pleasured yell falling to a hurt cry as he laid back into the pillows and pressed the talk button.

“Lieutenant Ackles speaking.” He cleared his throat as he looked at his wife’s facial expression before he turned and looked over at his uniform. “When? Copy that. Make the necessary calls Corporal. E.T.A? Oh-seven hundred hours. Copy that. Over and out.” He closed the phone with a sigh before he dropped it next to him and rubbed his hands over his face. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of his angered wife. “Babe,”

“Don’t you babe me!” She seethed as she swung herself off of him and made for the door, grabbing a bathrobe as she went, slipping it around her body as she turned away from him.

“Look I’m sorry okay; I’ve got to go in.” He sat up, his dog tags clinking as they fell down the center of his chiseled chest.

“Do what you want, I don’t care.”

“Don’t be like that.” He got up, grabbing a pair of track pants to combat the chill that had suddenly fallen over the room.

“Be like what?” She whirled on him, her eyes like fire as she clutched the robe closed. “Pissed off? Well I’m sorry Lieutenant Ackles, but I am pissed off. I’m pissed off because I can’t have one night with my husband without those people calling you every five seconds.”

“It’s my job, Jess. We’ve been over this. It’s protocol. I’m the one in charge of this division, I can’t just tell them to wait on account of my wife needing to finish.” He sighed and looked down when her eyes went wide, the colour in her cheeks leaving. He held up a hand and rubbed his temples with the other. “I’m sorry, that was harsh.”

“I’m sorry too.” She whimpered around the lump that had formed in her throat and willed herself not to get emotional. “I’m sorry that your job is more important then time with me.”

“Jesus Jess, don’t be like this.”

“Don’t be like this? For Christ sakes Jensen, you’ve been home for two days and already they’re calling you in. It’s not fair. I never get to see you. I never get to be with you.” She was quickly loosing her resolve, but she swore to herself that she wouldn’t cry in front of him, she wouldn’t let tears win.

“You think I enjoy being called up while I’m on leave? You think I enjoy not being able to make love to my wife because some bastard twenty thousand miles away wants to start a war? You think I like being stuck on base waiting when I should be home teaching my son to ride a bike?”

“I don’t know, do you?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stood hip shot, the best way she knew to make it well known that she wasn’t going to let this go.

“That’s not fair.” Jensen breathed deep, his mouth suddenly dry.

“No, what’s not fair is me not being able to spend five minutes with my husband. I’m sick of it. You’re never home. Dean hardly knows you!”

“I can’t help that!”

“Call them back, tell them you can’t go.”

“I’m a Lieutenant Jess,”

“And I’m your wife!” She screamed at him, her demeanor crumbling. “You’re meant to be on leave.”

“Yeah well they canceled it!” He shot back with his own raised voice. He watched her jaw tighten, watched her swallow before she looked away from him. “Why are you being this way?”

“It’s four weeks till Christmas Jensen!” She shouted as she threw her arms up in the air.

“I know that. I know it sucks, but I can’t just call them back and tell them to give me till the New Year. When you married me, you vowed to stand by me for better and for worse. This is the ‘worse’ part Jess; you have to stand by me. I need you to stand by me in this.”

“You’re so selfish.” It was nothing more then a whimper, but it cut him down in seconds. When she looked back at him, it was with glistening eyes and wet cheeks. “You never think about how this affects us. I’m six months pregnant with your second child and you haven’t been here for any of it. You haven’t been to one ultrasound appointment. You weren’t here for Deans third birthday. You weren’t here for Easter or our anniversary. Or my birthday or even yours. It’s like you’re married to the Defense Force and we’re just here, a couple of ghosts you see once a year.”

“Jess,” he started with a hurt voice before she held a hand up at him, signaling for him to stop talking to her.

“As much as I’m angry at you right now, this isn’t about me.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “Go to work. Do what you need to do. But you can be the one to tell our son that you’re not going to be here for Christmas. I can’t do it, I won’t do it again. I can’t watch our little boy cry because he won’t get to spend Christmas with his father for yet another year. So you get in your damn uniform and go to your damn base but only after you’ve watched the joy wash out of your sons’ eyes, so then you’ll know exactly why I’m so angry right now.”

“Jess.” He called after her as she turned and made for the door. She ignored him, softly shutting the door behind her as she walked down to hall, down the stairs and headed for the kitchen so that she could cry without him seeing her. When he could no longer hear her soft footsteps, he breathed hard and fast, his anger growing so rapidly. And before he could even stop himself he’d lashed out and sent the frame that held his Medal of Honor flying off the dressing table and soaring across the room. He gripped both sides of the dresser and breathed deep, trying to calm himself before he dropped to the bed and let his head fall into his hands. He let himself cry, let himself hurt over the emotional pain before he wiped his cheeks angrily and headed for the shower.