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Entry tags:
- cigarettes,
- jared,
- jensen,
- rps
Cigarette Smoking Can be Hazardous to Your Sexuality
Title:Cigarette Smoking Can be Hazardous to Your Sexuality
Pairing:Jared/Jensen
Rating: Depends how you feel about cigarettes:)
Warnings: This one didn't make L cry at work, but she won't swear to me other fluids weren't involved:)
Disclaimers: Of course.
Jensen took a drag on his cigarette and for the first (and probably only) time in his life, Jared *got* Prince Charles and that whole desire to be a tampon thing. Well, wait, not entirely ‘cause it was in relation to Camilla Parker Bowles and she was *so* not worth that kind of public embarrassment and it was a *tampon* after all, which has to be the least sexy thing he could possible have come up with and really, now that Jared was thinking about it, the whole analogy was really unfortunate and - Jensen!
Yeah. That was better. Fuck Camilla Parker Bowles. Not literally, of course. And not him. And - oh, yeah, Jensen, with those cocksucking lips wrapped around that cigarette, smoke swirling around him in suggestive little - umm, swirls. Normally Jared didn’t much care for cigarettes or the people who smoked them. His momma had raised him right. But one look at Jensen smoking and he wanted to become a twelve pack a day man on the spot.
On second thought, he’d better not, because there was no way in hell that he was *ever* going to look like *that* when he smoked a cigarette. Oh god, he just had the dirtiest thought! What would it look like if Jensen blew him and smoked at the same time. A drag on the cigarette, a drag on his dick. It would probably kill him. Might kill Jensen too for that matter.
Jared decided that somewhere between Prince Charles and that thought, he had officially lost it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to get in bed. He wanted to jerk off to that mental image of Jensen blowing him, with or without the cigarette.
What he should have wanted, he kept telling himself, was to stop having these feelings about his co-star. The one over the in the corner having the four way conversation with that redhead and each of her breasts. Jensen was puffing harder and harder on that damn cigarette, practically chewing the end off, and raising a cloud of smoke that almost obscured all of them (Jensen, the redhead and her breasts) from view. And then Jensen was being polite (Jared knew his polite smile all too well by this time) and was walking over to him and Jared sat there, mesmerized by the way he moved. So fluid, so graceful. Kind of like that wisp of smoke trailing behind him.
“Man, those things are *real*, which officially makes them freaks of nature.” Jensen was saying to Jared and Jared had to shake his head to snap out of it. “She unleashes those things and death and dismemberment will follow, mark my words.”
“Dismemberment?” Jared said with some alarm in his voice, even though he hadn’t really been listening to what Jensen was saying, just watching his movements as Jensen fished the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, tapped the packet against his hand to make just one pop out (yeah Jen, not the only thing you’re making pop out at the moment), flicked his lighter and cupped his hands around the flame while he held it close to the cigarette and drew on it, inhaling deeply, gratefully. How could just watching Jensen light a cigarette make Jared so damn hard?
‘Did you hear anything I just said,” Jensen laughed.
“Dismemberment.” Jared replied, still focusing more on the cigarette in Jensen’s hand (shit, even the way he held the damn thing was sexy), and the aching erection in his own pants than on what Jensen was saying.
“Right.” Jensen said. “Have a few to drink?”
“Huh?” Jared said, finally focusing on Jensen’s face. “Ummm . . . no, actually, no. Just one beer could I have a drag of your cigarette?”
Jared could tell that it was taking Jensen a moment to process that last run-on sentence of his. His mother would be disappointed in him. For the grammar, for suddenly wanting to smoke, for wanting to slam his co-star up against the nearest wall and fuck him until their eyes rolled back into their heads and they were both screaming with -
“What? Did you just ask for my cigarette?” Jensen interrupted Jared’s stream of consciousness. “You don’t even smoke.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Bad habit.”
“Yeah, I know. You, my momma and the surgeon general all agree on that one.”
“No way you should start now.” Jensen sounded protective.
“Why don’t you stop?”
“I’ve tried man. But they’re like sex. And you don’t see me giving up sex either.”
“Seeing . . .you . . . sex . . . “ Jared was going off into stream of consciousness land again.
“You *sure* you haven’t had much to drink tonight?” Jensen asked, concern vying with amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m sure. C’mon man, just one drag. I’m not going to develop a habit from just one drag.”
Jensen hesitated. And for the first time Jared thought he sensed something in Jensen that wasn’t just concern for his health. He watched Jensen take a long hard drag from the cigarette, as if it were his last smoke, as if he were steeling himself for something that he didn’t want to happen. And then he was handing the cigarette to Jared. And did his hand tremble just the smallest bit as it passed from his hand to Jared’s?
Jared had been studying Jensen, knew what to do with the cigarette, how to hold it. He put it to his lips, letting the tip of his tongue brush against the end, thinking to himself that this is what Jensen tastes like, smell of whiskey and bite of nicotine. He closed his eyes, thought of the cigarette that had just been on Jensen’s lips now resting on his, inhaled. Inhaled Jensen. And then his eyes were open and Jensen was looking at him six kinds of weird.
“What?”
“Jare - you. Damn.”
“What??” What the hell? Was he on fire or something? From the way Jensen was looking at him it looked bad, whatever it was.
“It’s just you’re normally Mr. Clean Cut Kid and with that cigarette in your mouth you just look -“
“Dorky?”
“Sexy as fuck.”
“Huh? Me? You think? I’m what?”
Jensen lowered his voice and leaned in to Jared so that no one else would overhear their conversation. “Do that again.”
“What, now you’re encouraging me to smoke?”
“Just . . . please . . .”
Jared took another drag of the cigarette, more warily this time, watching Jensen watch him. It was not having the same effect.
“What were you thinking of the first time?” Jensen asked as Jared finished.
Jared promptly started coughing. “Thinking? What was I thinking?” Yeah Jared, what *were* you thinking? At the moment he was thinking that he’d just ask Jensen for the rest of the pack, smoke them all really quickly, get lung cancer and die. Hopefully within the next minute or so.
“‘Cause whatever it was - “ Jensen stopped. Jared waited. Jensen seemed to have forgotten to finish his sentence. Jared waited.
“What? ‘Whatever it was - ‘ what???” Jared finally prompted.
“Nothing. Silly.” Jensen was looking strangely at Jared, kinda making him nervous. Jared held out his hand, offering Jensen the cigarette back.
“Nah. Keep it.” Jensen said slowly, still staring at Jared as if he’d just met him for the first time. He fished in his pocket for the cigarettes and took another from the pack.
“Can I get a light?” He leaned in to allow the end of his cigarette to meet the end of what was now Jared’s. They were practically nose to nose. Jensen talked around the cigarette in his mouth, low, confessional. “I wanted to kiss you, man.” He took a step back. “Silly, huh?" He added a laugh that was nine parts discomfort and only one part amusement.
“Yeah,” Jared said, and added his own uncomfortable mirth to the mix.
“Good thing you don’t smoke all the time,” Jensen said, continuing to try to make light of the situation. “If I saw you looking like that again I’d probably want to fuck you.” He flashed a more genuine smile now, beginning to recover from the weirdness of a few moments ago.
Jared knew then and there that his momma was going to be mad at him. He was about to take up one very bad habit. And, he hoped, one very good one as well.
Sequel is here
Pairing:Jared/Jensen
Rating: Depends how you feel about cigarettes:)
Warnings: This one didn't make L cry at work, but she won't swear to me other fluids weren't involved:)
Disclaimers: Of course.
Jensen took a drag on his cigarette and for the first (and probably only) time in his life, Jared *got* Prince Charles and that whole desire to be a tampon thing. Well, wait, not entirely ‘cause it was in relation to Camilla Parker Bowles and she was *so* not worth that kind of public embarrassment and it was a *tampon* after all, which has to be the least sexy thing he could possible have come up with and really, now that Jared was thinking about it, the whole analogy was really unfortunate and - Jensen!
Yeah. That was better. Fuck Camilla Parker Bowles. Not literally, of course. And not him. And - oh, yeah, Jensen, with those cocksucking lips wrapped around that cigarette, smoke swirling around him in suggestive little - umm, swirls. Normally Jared didn’t much care for cigarettes or the people who smoked them. His momma had raised him right. But one look at Jensen smoking and he wanted to become a twelve pack a day man on the spot.
On second thought, he’d better not, because there was no way in hell that he was *ever* going to look like *that* when he smoked a cigarette. Oh god, he just had the dirtiest thought! What would it look like if Jensen blew him and smoked at the same time. A drag on the cigarette, a drag on his dick. It would probably kill him. Might kill Jensen too for that matter.
Jared decided that somewhere between Prince Charles and that thought, he had officially lost it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to get in bed. He wanted to jerk off to that mental image of Jensen blowing him, with or without the cigarette.
What he should have wanted, he kept telling himself, was to stop having these feelings about his co-star. The one over the in the corner having the four way conversation with that redhead and each of her breasts. Jensen was puffing harder and harder on that damn cigarette, practically chewing the end off, and raising a cloud of smoke that almost obscured all of them (Jensen, the redhead and her breasts) from view. And then Jensen was being polite (Jared knew his polite smile all too well by this time) and was walking over to him and Jared sat there, mesmerized by the way he moved. So fluid, so graceful. Kind of like that wisp of smoke trailing behind him.
“Man, those things are *real*, which officially makes them freaks of nature.” Jensen was saying to Jared and Jared had to shake his head to snap out of it. “She unleashes those things and death and dismemberment will follow, mark my words.”
“Dismemberment?” Jared said with some alarm in his voice, even though he hadn’t really been listening to what Jensen was saying, just watching his movements as Jensen fished the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, tapped the packet against his hand to make just one pop out (yeah Jen, not the only thing you’re making pop out at the moment), flicked his lighter and cupped his hands around the flame while he held it close to the cigarette and drew on it, inhaling deeply, gratefully. How could just watching Jensen light a cigarette make Jared so damn hard?
‘Did you hear anything I just said,” Jensen laughed.
“Dismemberment.” Jared replied, still focusing more on the cigarette in Jensen’s hand (shit, even the way he held the damn thing was sexy), and the aching erection in his own pants than on what Jensen was saying.
“Right.” Jensen said. “Have a few to drink?”
“Huh?” Jared said, finally focusing on Jensen’s face. “Ummm . . . no, actually, no. Just one beer could I have a drag of your cigarette?”
Jared could tell that it was taking Jensen a moment to process that last run-on sentence of his. His mother would be disappointed in him. For the grammar, for suddenly wanting to smoke, for wanting to slam his co-star up against the nearest wall and fuck him until their eyes rolled back into their heads and they were both screaming with -
“What? Did you just ask for my cigarette?” Jensen interrupted Jared’s stream of consciousness. “You don’t even smoke.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Bad habit.”
“Yeah, I know. You, my momma and the surgeon general all agree on that one.”
“No way you should start now.” Jensen sounded protective.
“Why don’t you stop?”
“I’ve tried man. But they’re like sex. And you don’t see me giving up sex either.”
“Seeing . . .you . . . sex . . . “ Jared was going off into stream of consciousness land again.
“You *sure* you haven’t had much to drink tonight?” Jensen asked, concern vying with amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m sure. C’mon man, just one drag. I’m not going to develop a habit from just one drag.”
Jensen hesitated. And for the first time Jared thought he sensed something in Jensen that wasn’t just concern for his health. He watched Jensen take a long hard drag from the cigarette, as if it were his last smoke, as if he were steeling himself for something that he didn’t want to happen. And then he was handing the cigarette to Jared. And did his hand tremble just the smallest bit as it passed from his hand to Jared’s?
Jared had been studying Jensen, knew what to do with the cigarette, how to hold it. He put it to his lips, letting the tip of his tongue brush against the end, thinking to himself that this is what Jensen tastes like, smell of whiskey and bite of nicotine. He closed his eyes, thought of the cigarette that had just been on Jensen’s lips now resting on his, inhaled. Inhaled Jensen. And then his eyes were open and Jensen was looking at him six kinds of weird.
“What?”
“Jare - you. Damn.”
“What??” What the hell? Was he on fire or something? From the way Jensen was looking at him it looked bad, whatever it was.
“It’s just you’re normally Mr. Clean Cut Kid and with that cigarette in your mouth you just look -“
“Dorky?”
“Sexy as fuck.”
“Huh? Me? You think? I’m what?”
Jensen lowered his voice and leaned in to Jared so that no one else would overhear their conversation. “Do that again.”
“What, now you’re encouraging me to smoke?”
“Just . . . please . . .”
Jared took another drag of the cigarette, more warily this time, watching Jensen watch him. It was not having the same effect.
“What were you thinking of the first time?” Jensen asked as Jared finished.
Jared promptly started coughing. “Thinking? What was I thinking?” Yeah Jared, what *were* you thinking? At the moment he was thinking that he’d just ask Jensen for the rest of the pack, smoke them all really quickly, get lung cancer and die. Hopefully within the next minute or so.
“‘Cause whatever it was - “ Jensen stopped. Jared waited. Jensen seemed to have forgotten to finish his sentence. Jared waited.
“What? ‘Whatever it was - ‘ what???” Jared finally prompted.
“Nothing. Silly.” Jensen was looking strangely at Jared, kinda making him nervous. Jared held out his hand, offering Jensen the cigarette back.
“Nah. Keep it.” Jensen said slowly, still staring at Jared as if he’d just met him for the first time. He fished in his pocket for the cigarettes and took another from the pack.
“Can I get a light?” He leaned in to allow the end of his cigarette to meet the end of what was now Jared’s. They were practically nose to nose. Jensen talked around the cigarette in his mouth, low, confessional. “I wanted to kiss you, man.” He took a step back. “Silly, huh?" He added a laugh that was nine parts discomfort and only one part amusement.
“Yeah,” Jared said, and added his own uncomfortable mirth to the mix.
“Good thing you don’t smoke all the time,” Jensen said, continuing to try to make light of the situation. “If I saw you looking like that again I’d probably want to fuck you.” He flashed a more genuine smile now, beginning to recover from the weirdness of a few moments ago.
Jared knew then and there that his momma was going to be mad at him. He was about to take up one very bad habit. And, he hoped, one very good one as well.
Sequel is here
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