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Where Sam and Dean Leave Off and We Begin Ch 12
Title: Where Sam and Dean Leave off and We Begin - Chapter 12
Fandom:RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Things in the show have a way of spilling over into their personal lives, and vice versa.
For earlier chapters of this story go here
It wasn’t really the answer Jared was expecting. In fact, he found himself overwhelmed with implications he’d never even considered might exist, never dared to hope might be the remotest possibility. But Jensen’s tone, and the intensity of his gaze, gave Jared a glimpse of the emotions he’d always suspected ran strong and deep under Jensen’s usually calm exterior. The ones that had always eluded Jared, no matter how hard he tried to decipher them.
Right now words eluded Jared. He just grinned down at Jensen with what he was quite certain was the smile of a lovesick thirteen year old girl, trying to let it all sink in. Trying to believe that Jensen was telling him what he wanted desperately to hear – not just fucking around. So then, that meant . . . what? That Jensen had feelings for him? Not-just-friendship feelings?
Jensen nudged at Jared’s hips with one knee, shoved at his chest in playful annoyance.
“Can we get off the floor now?” One eyebrow cocked. “You’re fucking heavy.”
Jared blushed at the realization that he was still plastered to Jensen, and that his boxers were plastered to *him*. Ohjesus, he thought with a start, I just came in my pants. Humping Jensen’s thigh. “God, Jen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – mean to – I just,” he stammered, rolling to the side and clambering awkwardly to his feet, tugging at his fly where his cock was uncomfortably adhering to his sticky underwear. Ohgod, he was disgusting. What had he been thinking? Oh that’s right, he wasn’t thinking. Not with his upstairs brain.
He watched Jensen get up too, graceful and athletic as always. His jeans were still unbuttoned, and it looked like maybe, just maybe, he was sporting a semi. Too soon to be fully recovered, but maybe. God, what am I doing? Jared wondered with a fresh flush of embarrassment when checking Jensen out had become second nature. Biting his lip, he reluctantly met Jensen’s gaze.
“And again I’ve gotta ask, subtle much?” Jensen smirked, laughed quietly.
“Sorry, I …”
“Jared, cut it out, okay?” Jensen gave another huffing laugh and shook his head. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. Especially not for staring at my crotch.”
More blush. Jared could feel it traveling down his neck, coloring his chest. Now that he’d started this – this, whatever it was – he had no idea where to take it, or even how to feel about it. He’d been so focused on just *wanting* Jensen, just being able to finally kiss that mouth and get his hands around that cock and just *have* him, he hadn’t really thought past the moment it happened. Even now, standing right across from his costar and knowing they’d just gotten off together, it didn’t seem real. Was it?
Jensen hadn’t touched him, not really. He was still fully dressed, cum in his shorts notwithstanding.
Jensen buttoned his jeans, smoothed his shirt. “I think we need to talk, Jared.”
Ohgod. That phrase. The one everyone used when they had something to tell you that they knew you weren’t going to want to hear. The universal shorthand for ‘I’m gonna let you down easy now.’ Jensen was upset with him, upset about what they’d done. Or even if he wasn’t, he was gonna tell Jared now that it couldn’t happen again. There was Grace, or whoever, and there was Sandy , and there was the fact that they were straight. Well, the fact that Jensen was straight. Jared was pretty sure he wasn’t ever going to think of himself as straight again, now that he knew what it did to him to watch Jensen come at his hand, at his words. The way Jen had trembled, the broken moan when he started to lose it. No, he was pretty sure there was nothing straight about the way that image was etched into his brain forever.
“Jared, man, where are you? Get outta your head for ten seconds and talk to me, will ya?” Jensen nudged Jared’s shoulder with his own as he made his way to the fridge in Jared’s tiny kitchen. “C’mon, let’s have something to drink that isn’t beer. You got anything?”
Such a normal conversation, like the most unbelievable thing in the world hadn’t just happened. Jared shook his head, trying to clear it, and accepted the bottle of root beer Jensen handed him. Watched as Jensen took a few gulps, then settled himself to lean back against the counter, bare feet crossed. It looked provocative. And hot as hell.
“I can read your mind, ya know.”
Jared started in alarm at Jensen’s words, but when he looked up, Jensen was grinning at him. “When did you become incapable of thinking of anything but sex, anyway?”
“When I realized I could have it with you.”
Jensen blinked. His expression went serious, the grin softening. “Jesus, Jared,” he said, running his fingers through his cropped hair and shuffling his bare feet.
“S—
“No, don’t, don’t be.” Jensen did that short little snorting laugh again, the one that meant he was embarrassed. “I’m just not used to you sayin’ things like that to me.”
“And you don’t like it, it makes you uncomfortable?”
“Yeah –
“Yeah? It makes you uncomfortable and you don’t like it?”
“No –
“No? You don’t --
“Jared!” Jensen interrupted, exasperated. “Yeah, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but yeah, I like it. Okay? I like it.”
The grin that spread over Jared’s face was so wide and so uncontrollable that he knew the muscles there were going to ache later. “You like it?” he repeated, watching the flush of pink darken Jensen’s cheeks, fade the freckles sprinkled there. Making Jensen blush was maybe the second most wonderful thing in the world. After making him come.
Jensen shook his head. “Jared,” he said softly, “God Jare, the way you look at me.” His voice trailed off and he bit his lower lip and dropped his eyes for a moment.
“Do you like that too?” Jared asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful.
Another huffing half-laugh, and Jensen looked up at him, jade eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Without warning, Jared could suddenly feel the heat flare between them, like a physical thing created out of nowhere and just *there*, making his insides go hot and fluttery. Making his cock start to rally again, itching for another round. He took a step toward Jensen, wanting to touch him again, but Jensen stopped him abruptly with a hand against his chest, keeping them apart.
“Don’t, Jared.” The green eyes were still warm and the touch was gentle, but there was strength in Jensen’s pushing him back. Determination.
Jared backed away in confusion, hurt and fear eclipsing the desire and hope he’d just been feeling. “But I thought you …” he began, “W- what do you …” He stammered, not knowing whether to apologize or be angry. What the fuck was happening?
Instantly Jensen reached out and grabbed a fistful of Jared’s tee shirt, yanking him back a few inches closer. His expression wasn’t angry, but the flirty playfulness Jared had thought was there a minute ago was gone, replaced by seriousness. Jensen’s brows drew together, and a flash of almost-anguish flitted across his pretty face. He took a deep breath, then let Jared go, smoothing the bunched cotton against Jared’s chest before backing away again.
“We need to talk, Jared. And fuck knows, we’re not very good at it.”
Jared shrugged. Okay, that much was true.
“And if you touch me . . .” Jensen paused, shaking his head like he was trying to talk himself into – or out of – something, and Jared froze, steeling himself for the probability that he’d never kiss that voluptuous mouth again, never even really *see* what Jensen looked like hard and wanting. The sense of loss swept over him, made his knees weak.
Jensen looked up at him at the shift in Jared’s stance, the slight withdrawal. “Jared, if you touch me . . . “
“It’s okay Jen, I won’t, I won’t.” Jared flushed with real embarrassment, his head spinning with confusion. “God, I’m sorry.”
Jensen put up a hand to stop him, this time just a gesture in the space that was now between them. “If you touch me, Jare, we’re not gonna get very much talking done.”
Oh. Ohhhhhhh. Jared’s ear-to-ear grin returned, along with the warmth pooling in his belly, the sense of relief making him dizzy all over again. He stepped back a little and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his bare feet. Maybe if he kept his hands trapped there, he’d be able to have a conversation without grabbing the sharp jut of hipbone where Jen’s tee shirt tucked into one side of his jeans. Or sliding his eager fingers over the smooth curve of bare bicep. Or…..
“Padalecki, jesuschrist, stop it, willya?” Jensen snorted into his root beer, then laughed for real, the sound so familiar to Jared that he couldn’t help but join in. They giggled at each other for a minute, letting the laughter soothe the tension and diminish the awkwardness.
“Okay, okay,” Jared finally said, trying to be serious. “We need to talk, and we suck at it, so okay. Maybe I should turn around and not look at you so I don’t get ….distracted.”
“Maybe.”
Jared turned around, grinning at the sound of Jensen’s exasperated protest behind him. “Jared!”
“I can’t help it if you’re hot, Jen,” Jared protested in return, but he turned back, and this time he nodded and shook off the smile. “But okay, you’re right. I don’t really know what we’re doing here, and …” He paused, not knowing how to express the mix of emotions swirling around inside, and not knowing if he had the guts to ask if Jensen felt the same.
Jensen uncrossed his feet, shuffled them on the bare floor, braced both hands behind him on the counter. “So,” he began, hesitantly. “When did you – you know, when did you, know?”
Maybe not the most articulate question, but Jared understood. “Mid season, I guess. A while ago. Didn’t really know, but just, looking back now, I guess I sorta did. Born Under a Bad Sign, I think. When I had to hurt you – I mean when Sam – that scene, it stirred things up in me I guess.” Jared cleared his throat, unsure of how much to say.
Jensen nodded. “Yeah. I felt that too.”
“So you had – you had – feelings – for me – or something – then too?” Jared’s voice came out higher pitched than usual, his anxiety about Jensen’s answer obvious.
Jensen worried his lip with his teeth, dropping his gaze. Dug his bare toes into the floor. When he looked back up, the depth to those emerald eyes hit Jared like a punch, searing in its intensity. “Long before then, Jared,” he said.
There was a beat, almost audible in the suddenly silent room, a long moment where Jared didn’t respond as he tossed those few words around in his mind, examining their implication. Long before he’d realized he was falling for his costar, Jensen had realized the same? Long before?
“How long before, Jen?”
Jensen broke eye contact to stare at the floor again, the way he did when he was searching for the right words. Jared wanted to tell him that there were no wrong answers, that the farther back Jensen’s feelings went, the better Jared would feel about this – this – thing they had going. He wanted Jensen to tell him that he’d wanted Jared from the moment they’d walked into that casting office to read for this show and discovered it was only the two of them – only the two of them. Isn’t that how it had felt for a long long time now?
“First season,” Jensen finally answered. “Maybe even the pilot, looking back, but I didn’t realize it.”
“The pilot?” Jared went back over the filming in his mind, searching for any evidence of sparks between them.
Jensen sighed, like this was hard for him to admit. And Jared imagined it probably was, come to think of it. God knows, if the shoe was on the other foot….. How long had it taken him to get to this point? And Jensen had been keeping this to himself for almost two years? Jesus. No wonder it was hard to talk about now. And he wasn’t helping much with his incredulous questions. Make some contribution here, Padalecki, he admonished himself. Don’t make him do all the work.
“You’ve had feelings for me ever since the pilot?” he repeated, watching Jensen shuffle his feet again uncomfortably.
“That’s awesome!” Jared grinned, slapping a hand against his own thigh in emphasis. “Dude, that’s a long time, I can’t believe you never said anything – why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Jared knew instantly that had been the right thing to say. Jensen returned his smile, chuckling at Jared’s enthusiasm, relief wiping the discomfort from his fine features. “I didn’t – I really didn’t think . . .”
“Think I felt the same way?” Jared interrupted, eager to talk now that the tension between them was easing, eager to know.
“Yeah that, of course that – but I didn’t even really think I was feeling what I was feeling, for a long time. I mean, I’d never felt, you know -- that.” Jensen gestured with one hand, Jared easily catching the meaning as ‘who the fuck knows what to call this because I’m straight and so why am I thinking about my costar when I jerk off’.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, that.” He mirrored the gesture. “Yeah, I felt the same way, kept trying to talk myself out of it, kept going what the hell am I thinking, why the hell am I thinking that?”
They were grinning at each other, nodding, sliding back onto the familiar same wavelength where they could finish each other’s sentences and read each other’s minds. The mindset they shared when they were Sam and Dean, comfortable and intimate. But now there was an edge to it, something else they were sharing as Jared and Jensen, something more.
“I got – you know – the first time we had to get physical,” Jensen admitted, a hint of shyness in his voice.
“When we had to fight, in Sam and Jessica’s apartment?” Jared remembered the retakes. Jensen on top. Him on top. The memory came back repainted, eroticized, making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Pinning me made you hard?”
Jensen shook his head slowly, a faint blush again spreading under his freckles. “More you pinning me,” he said softly, just the words making his voice rougher.
“Oh,” said Jared, enduring another twitch as his jeans tightened. He could feel the dynamic between them shift almost palpably with Jensen’s admission, with the way he offered it so reluctantly, with the flush creeping down his neck. “Tell me more.”
Jensen’s eyes went darker at what sounded more like a command than a request, and Jared knew he felt it too. And went with it.
“The way you just grabbed me by both arms and flipped me over,” he said hurriedly, speech suddenly pressured, voice slightly breathless. “Just – just like it was nothing, happened so easily.” He paused, then kept going before Jared could reply. “Could feel how strong you were, just in that movement, and that sensation, that feeling of being just – just –
“Manhandled?” Jared offered, and Jensen’s eyes snapped up to his, his lips parting in surprise. Jared wondered if Jensen’s cock had just jerked. His own had. Again.
“Yeah. Yeah, manhandled.” Jensen rolled the word around on his tongue, trying it out like a tasty new piece of candy. “The feeling of being manhandled by you, and then you were on top of me, holding me down, and it just hit me, like – like, woah, what’s happening, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Jared answered. “It just took me longer to recognize that feeling for what it is. But yeah, I know.” The tension between them was charged and sparking now, and keeping his distance was getting difficult. Jared forced himself to keep talking, to try and get enough out in the open that there weren’t any barriers between them. Reminding himself that he wanted to see Jensen more than stripped physically, that he needed to see inside too, to understand.
“Did your breaking up with Clare have something to do with me?”
Jensen sighed heavily, tapping the fingers of one hand against the countertop. “Indirectly, I guess,” he admitted. “I don’t think it would’ve worked with her anyway, but I was so messed up in my head about what I was feeling for you by then. The whole denial thing wasn’t working so well anymore, and I just started to feel like I was using her or something. It got too complicated.”
“So you just started hooking up with random girls for between-takes blowjobs? Like that Grace chick? Were there guys too?” Jared couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice, the remembered jealousy, even though he knew he had no right to it. Couldn’t keep himself from asking that last question either now that he knew how long Jensen had been thinking about sex with a guy – well, with him anyway -- though he felt panicked about what Jensen’s response might be.
“No, no guys. I thought about it, thought maybe that would make it better, make me stop thinking about you like that. But then I thought maybe it would just make it worse.” Jensen shrugged, uncomfortable, the blush across his cheeks deepening.
Jared let out the breath he’d been holding, feeling a surprising flood of relief. The thought of Jensen hooking up with another guy, somehow that was so much worse than the women he’d always known were in Jen’s bed. “And Grace? The other girls? Just random hookups?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Jensen shrugged, but he looked remorseful. “I didn’t really think you’d care, Jared. Or maybe I wanted you to, I dunno.”
“You wanted to make me jealous?” The possibility had never occurred to Jared, and now he was finding it half annoying and half flattering.
“No – yes. Maybe. Not consciously, but – we’d kissed, you know, and god, it was so fucking hot, everything I thought it would be, but then you never followed up, you wouldn’t even talk about it. So I thought well, fuck it. Grace was there, other girls were there, I just wanted to forget it after a while. Because I thought you did.”
Jared ran his hand through his own unruly hair in exasperation. “No Jen, I never did, but I thought you did! I mean, shit, you cried when I kissed you, Jensen. What was I supposed to think? And you were drunk! How was I supposed to know you fucking liked it??”
Jensen looked remorseful all over again at that, and Jared softened. “Hell, you said it, we both suck at conversation.” He gave Jensen a half smile, let it turn flirty. “But I think we’ve done a pretty good job here, right? Have we talked enough, Jen? Cuz I can think of better things to do right about now.”
Part Two
The atmosphere in the small room shifts again, and Jensen’s eyes come back to Jared’s impossibly green and burning with desire. The look goes through Jared like lightning, until all his muscles are jumping at once, eager and ready. This is gonna happen between them, he knows it now. Jensen wants it. Jared wants it. All of it.
* * *
Jared’s staring, he knows he is, but he can’t seem to help it – he hasn’t even *seen* Jensen yet, has only *felt* that lean hard body, and godhelphim, he wants to see, needs to see. Jensen has always been obscured in more ways than one, projecting whatever image he wants to portray. And that’s not what Jared wants. Things have changed between them, and now he wants to see *in*, peel away those protective layers like the metaphors stitched into Dean’s many shirts, and whoever thinks that Jensen doesn’t wear the same kind of protection just isn’t looking hard enough.
But Jared is. He’s looking so hard that Jensen gets nervous, drops his green-eyed gaze and then looks back up at Jared biting his bottom lip. “You look like you wanna eat me up,” he says, chuckling to make it sound like a joke, but the corners of Jared’s mouth don’t even twitch in response, and his hazel eyes stay focused on Jensen’s as he slowly shakes his head.
“Uh uh. Wanna *open* you up, Jensen. All the way up.”
Jared sees a flash of surprise flicker across Jensen’s face at his words, and Jared wonders where the hell that even came from. It sounds incredibly dirty, and that’s not him, but suddenly that’s what he wants and he needs the words to mirror it perfectly, the way he feels. No more pretending. His peripheral vision catches the clutch of Jensen’s fingers around the edge of the counter, digging in, releasing, like the anxiety needs to bleed out of him somewhere and he has to move but doesn’t dare. Jared has him pinned like a sought-after-forever and finally-captured butterfly on a collector’s pallet, rare and beautiful and trapped. Jensen swallows, and Jared catches the slight tremor in his jaw, on his lips. His dick twitches painfully at the sight.
For a minute, Jared thinks he’s asking for too much, for something Jensen can’t give. Maybe he’s already gone as far as he can, bared as much of himself as he dares. Too much need for hanging onto himself in the midst of the craziness that so often swirls around the actors now, too much dependence on the distance and privacy that guard the shyness underneath. It’s so much of what he loves Jensen for, goes right down to the core of him, keeps him an introvert even as he eats up the screen or owns the stage, as surely as Jared’s temperament keeps him the hump-you-in-public extrovert. That’s Jensen, and -- And did he just use the word love? Because goddamn if that isn’t what he’s feeling right now, even more than the lust that’s got him hard again and aching.
Jared doesn’t move, even though he wants to, wants to take what he wants, wants to strip the tee shirt over Jensen’s head and tug off his jeans and memorize every plane and curve and freckle so he can call the image up in his head every night when he jerks off and wishes he was looking at Jensen.
Jensen lets out a breath, a little shakily, nods. Hands still working on the counter’s edge. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Okay.”
And Jared surprises himself with how quickly his hesitation is gone. Just erased with those two words of acquiescence. All those months of wondering, of feeling like a (really inept) detective trying to decipher what Jensen was wanting or thinking or feeling – all that time of Jared being too afraid to ask, it’s all gone, and fucking good riddance to it. Because now he knows, and he feels the roles they’ve been playing slide to their feet and leave behind just the two of them. For real.
Easy to go slow this time, he’s not afraid this is his only chance, can see the need in Jensen’s eyes right through the nervousness. Places his hands over Jen’s on the counter edge, reassuring, as he moves closer, almost touching hips but not quite, his bare toes nudging Jensen’s. Slides his hands up his costar’s arms, wrapping long fingers tight around bare biceps, feeling the strength there. Jensen’s eyes go wider, and Jared smiles a little, knows he’s thinking about their size, not used to the feel of a man’s hands on him. He squeezes, feeling over the muscle under the soft skin, exploring. Possessive.
Jensen doesn’t move as he drops his hands to the hem of Jensen’s tee shirt, peels it up his chest slowly. When it hits his armpits and Jared pushes, Jensen makes a little sound that makes Jared’s cock twitch, and raises his arms above his head so Jared can slide it off him. Instantly Jared catches both his wrists as the shirt falls to the floor, pulls them together and wraps one large hand around them easily to keep them raised as he steps back slightly to look – really look.
“Jesus, Jensen, look at you.” Jared’s eyes circle slowly from firm chest and dark pointed nipples, down the taper of slender hips, then back up to rake over the damp curls exposed beneath his raised arms, the muscles stretched taut and Jared’s hand wrapped tight around both fine-boned wrists. It surprises him, how thin Jensen is, despite the broad shoulders and the muscles bunching in his biceps, contouring his flat stomach. There are sprinkles of freckles on his chest, over his hipbones, and Jared wants to touch every single one, wonders if he could feel them underneath his fingers.
Jensen’s staring at him with what looks like amazement, and it’s endearing and fucking hot at the same time, and he still hasn’t made any move to lower his arms or free his hands, and that’s even fucking hotter. Jared cups a sharp hipbone with his other hand, feels Jensen’s muscles twitch as he runs a finger downward, tracing the indentation to where it disappears under the leather belt of Jensen’s low-slung jeans.
“Want you naked,” Jared tells him, voice already thick with lust. “Wanna see all of you.”
He waits for a moment, still holding Jensen’s wrists tightly, requires the nod that tells him Jen is with him. When he gets it, he nods back approvingly, releases Jensen’s wrists and drops his hands to Jensen’s belt, unfastening it with ease this time, popping the button. One hand on Jensen’s hip, Jared strips the zipper quickly, falls to his knees as he tugs the jeans and boxers down. Jensen’s cock, stiff and eager, springs free and slides against his cheek as he bends to work Jensen’s feet free, and above him he hears Jen swear at the contact. He looks up grinning, impulsively sticks out his tongue and licks a quick taste, making Jensen swear again as his dick jerks hard against Jared’s lips.
Jared gets to his feet slowly, eyes glued to his costar’s impressive erection. Watches as a pink flush creeps up Jensen’s chest and neck, colors his cheeks. “Mmmm,” Jared says appreciatively, staring unabashedly, licking his lips as he slides his gaze lewdly over every inch of Jensen’s nakedness. And Jensen may be embarrassed, but it’s doing nothing to stem his excitement, because his dick is so hard it’s positively obscene.
When Jared finally raises his gaze to Jensen’s face again, Jen’s long lashes have fluttered shut against his pink freckled cheeks. The contrast between the pretty little boy shyness and the aggressive jut of his not-at-all-little-boyish cock is so compelling that Jared actually groans out loud, and Jensen’s eyes snap open. He bites his lip, coloring even more. For someone so strikingly good looking, Jensen’s never been comfortable with being admired like this, and Jared knows it. Appreciates that he’s being given this chance, that Jensen will give this to him.
“You’re beautiful, Jen,” he murmurs, waiting for the dismissive shrug he knows will come. It does, but then Jensen surprises him by breaking his silence.
“So are you,” he says softly.
Jared’s not expecting that. Yeah, he knows what Jensen said, that he’s been wanting him too, for a long time. Intellectually he knows that, that’s why he’s doing this, why he finally can let himself do what he wants. But everything that really means, that he hasn’t quite gotten his head around yet. “You think so?”
Jensen nods, fingers back to clutching the counter. “Yeah, Jay. I do. You never see me watching you, but I do.”
“When?” Jared needs to hear it, needs to believe it.
“When you’re looking away. When you won’t catch me.” Jensen’s smiling a little, not Dean’s smirk, but his own shy grin. “Sometimes after you’ve been looking at me, and then you turn away, that’s when I know I can look at you.”
Jared’s warm all over at that, and his erection is getting painful in his jeans.
Jensen shifts, the movement completely erotic now that he’s naked, and Jared gets even warmer.
“Why am I the only one naked?” Jensen smiles as he asks, lets Jared see the desire burning dark in his green eyes, and that’s all the invitation Jared needs. Shirt slips off, jeans shucked down, boxers follow, and Jared’s as naked as Jensen. For the first time, they’re staring at each other without anything in between. Not clothes, not roles, not misconceptions and misinterpretations and misunderstandings.
“God, Jared,” Jensen says softly, taking him in with acquisitive eyes, long and lean and tanned and hard. It’s Jensen who steps forward and presses their bodies together, hands sliding up Jared’s back to pull him close, mouth working its way up from shoulder to throat to jawline before Jared bends to press their lips together. It’s intoxicating, so much skin against warm skin, twenty eager fingers mapping the rippling lines of muscle and flesh. Thighs tangle, shift, prickle of coarse hair as they bump up against each other, cocks sliding between the solid warmth of their stomachs. So different, Jared thinks, from Sandy, her body small and delicate and soft against him. Jensen’s none of those things, no matter how pretty his green eyes are or how voluptuous his pink mouth. He’s all stiffness and solid and even the need Jared can feel radiating off Jensen’s body is demanding, untempered.
It’s fumbling and awkward and blissful, and Jared’s breathing hard and scenting Jensen with every inhale, faint smell of beer and cigarette smoke still clinging to his skin, layered over salt and sweat and masculine and Jen. Jared tastes, mouthing throat and ear and nape, and Jensen’s fingers claw at his waist as Jared uses his teeth on the back of his neck. Jensen lets his head fall to the side in response, easy in Jared’s grasp, inviting plunder, and Jared growls against the wet skin and bites down harder. Jensen surges up against him with a gasp, shoving them both away from the counter as his body tightens and pushes hard against Jared’s hips, and Jared suddenly remembers what Jensen said before, how much it turned him on when Jared pinned him, manhandled him. How Jensen touched himself that day in the trailer while Jared played peeping tom -- the look on his face as he twisted his own nipple.
Jensen likes it rough.
Jesus, Jared thinks. Jensen, whose shirt sleeves are always rolled up just so, whose pant legs are always the perfect length to curl just under his heels, never too short or too long. Jensen, who can act his way into or out of fucking anything, he’s that good. Jensen wants it -- wants Jared to mess with that perfection, break that control. Wants Jared to fuck him up just so, not too much, just enough, trusts that he can.
That trust makes Jared so fucking hot he can barely control himself at that moment, let alone take some of Jen’s. And yet that’s just what Jensen is asking him to do, and the force of that awareness hits Jared hard, makes him shudder. This is the real Jensen he has in his arms, naked and open and unprotected, making himself vulnerable in ways Jared never imagined he’d have the privilege of seeing. Emotions and needs laid bare before him, spelled out in words and touch and the sounds that rumble in Jensen’s throat beneath the grip of Jared’s teeth, helpless and genuine and as real as his own answering growls that bind them together in an intimacy that goes far beyond sex.
Jared opens his mouth over the bruised flesh, licks the burn away, shifts and finds another spot to nip, teeth scraping teasingly over wet hot skin, close to Jensen’s ear where he won’t be able to hide the bruise tomorrow. He knows Jen knows it, feels the sudden grip of fingers dig into his hip to say stop – don’t – but the words don’t come, and instead of stop the fingers clench and pull and telegraph a silent go. Jensen squirms and bucks as Jared marks him hard, and his left leg jerks up like it’s on a string and wraps around Jared’s hip. It’s the same kind of move that made Jared come in his pants just a half hour ago, and this time it gets to him just as much, loosens something in Jared’s psyche that makes him forget to think before he speaks and has him saying things he’s never even thought before, let alone spoken aloud.
“Like that, don’tcha, huh?” Jared whispers against the smarting welt below Jensen’s ear, tongue working the red skin over, flicking against the lobe. He hitches Jensen’s leg up higher, forcing him back against the counter, sliding a hand down the firm bare thigh to grip his ass. He doesn’t expect an answer to the rhetorical question, can feel Jen shudder as he bites down again.
“Yeah,” Jensen breathes out suddenly, hooking his foot around Jared to press them closer. “Like it.” Jared nibbles teasingly, feels Jensen’s impatience in the strain of his long neck, the rough swallow. “Want it.” And then he’s grabbing Jared’s hand on his ass and guiding him. Jared’s fingers follow his lead, slide between the other man’s firm round cheeks, hot and moist with the sweat that’s gathered at Jensen’s spine. Jensen bucks up against him again, and Jared can feel the wetness at the head of Jensen’s dick as it leaves a slick trail up and down Jared’s tense belly. “Want it,” Jensen says again, voice deep and half-whispered, pitched just this side of pleading.
“Tell me,” Jared urges, “Tell me what ya’ want, Jensen.” He needs to hear it, needs to know, the uncertainty about what to do still circling at the fringes of his brain. This is a man in his arms, no doubt about that with the hard cock poking his stomach – this is Jensen, for godsakes. Why didn’t he read up on this or something? Jensen’s all pliable and submissive and wanting, and Jared feels like he should somehow just know, but jesus, he doesn’t, this is different, so different.
But apparently Jensen does. He pulls away slightly and manages an “I – I wanna,” before dropping to his knees and leaning forward to kiss Jared’s stomach, forehead pressed tightly against him, hands sliding up Jared’s muscled thighs to rest on his hips. Hot wet tongue slides over the skin of his abdomen and Jared’s belly tenses, muscles dancing, hands going automatically to Jensen’s head to clutch at the too-short hair. Ohgod, Jensen’s gonna, he’s gonna – and then Jared realizes what he’s doing, and it makes his cock jerk so hard it practically slaps Jensen in the face. He’s licking his own juices from Jared’s stomach, little tentative flicks of his tongue giving way to long strokes, lashes fluttering closed as he laps every sticky drop his dick has drooled against Jared’s skin.
“Jen, god, ohgod,” is all Jared manages, and then Jensen’s mumbling “Wanna suck you, wanna taste you,” and Jared can’t think at all as those cocksucking lips curve around his dick and take him in. It’s clumsy and sloppy, Jensen trying not to choke and Jared trying not to thrust and both of them making incoherent noises of simultaneous satisfaction and frustration, until Jared knows he’s not gonna be able to keep from losing it, yanks Jensen back with both big hands around his head.
“Stop, god,” he wheezes, looking down at Jensen still kneeling before him, mouth red and swollen from sucking, string of saliva and cum dangling from his slick bottom lip. Jensen darts his pink tongue out to lick it up. Jesus.
“What else do ya’ want, Jen?” Jared asks, and his voice is heated and gruff now as he pulls Jensen to his feet by both arms and presses his impossibly hard dick against the other man’s hip, unable to stop himself from rubbing against the warm flesh there, needing the friction. “Feel what you’ve done to me? How hard my dick is?”
Jensen trembles against him, and Jared wonders again where this is coming from, knows Jen’s wondering it too, when he learned to talk like this. Jared can feel what it’s doing to Jensen every time he lets his words come out without worrying about how filthy they sound. Knows Jensen’s loving it. “Tell me, Jensen. What else.”
It’s not until Jensen’s pressed up against him again, face buried in Jared’s shoulder, that he answers, a rough whisper. “Want you inside me,” he says, the need cracking his voice.
Jared’s hands still against the other man’s back. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks, a little bit incredulous, unable to see Jensen’s face where it’s still pressed to his shoulder. Blowjobs are one thing, but fucking? That’s way beyond anything Jared’s ever even let himself think about when it comes to Jensen. Guys. Jensen. That’s – big.
Jensen won’t look at him, maybe can’t. But he answers immediately, Jared can feel the nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, I do.” He can sense Jared’s hesitation, misreads it, stammers. “I mean, if you want to, I do.” Jared’s still stuck pondering the improbability of all this, doesn’t answer, and Jensen tenses in his arms. “Not if you don’t want to though, not – only if – I thought, but –
Jared can almost feel the blush heat Jensen’s face where it’s pressed against him, knows he’s feeling humiliated by his admission and Jared’s lack of response. Jared’s getting better at this, this making himself talk even when it’s difficult. And fuck, it’s difficult right now, with his dick throbbing against Jen’s hip and Jensen telling him he wants to take it up his gorgeous little ass. Jesus.
He slides a hand down Jensen’s back soothingly, rests it at the base of his spine. “That’s not it, Jen. I want to, jesusfuckingchrist suddenly I want to so bad I can’t believe it.” And it’s more true than anything’s ever been, Jared does want it. He’s gone from not even considering the possibility to feeling like if he doesn’t get his dick buried in Jensen’s tight ass right the fuck now he’s gonna explode just thinking about it. “But you’ve never – you’ve never even done that.”
Jensen seems to steel himself, pulls back enough to look Jared in the eye. His eyes are barely green anymore, dark and wet and fucking intense, lashes half lowered as he meets Jared’s gaze. “But I’ve wanted to,” he says, all deep and serious, like he’s trying to convince Jared of his sincerity. “I’ve wanted to so fucking many times, thought about having your cock – god, big – cock – slamming into me, fucking me, fucking me Jare – every time I come I think about it, even when I don’t want to, even when I’m with someone else, but it’s just *there*, pushing me over the edge every time.” Jensen’s sounding desperate, his hands clutching at Jared’s biceps and hanging on like he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve and just fall if he lets go. “I want it, Jay, I want it so bad.”
Jared can’t believe he’s hesitating, but god. God. Did Jensen just say he had a big cock? And that he wanted it slamming into his ass? God.
“Please,” Jensen whispers. “I know what it’ll feel like, Jay, I’ve – I’ve played around with – I know – please, Jare.” And suddenly he stops, seeming to realize how much what he’s doing is sounding like begging. Jared realizes it too, and it obliterates his last bit of reluctance, dissolves it in the jesusfuckinghot image of Jensen shoving something up his ass and imagining it’s Jared’s dick.
“Okay, fuck, okay,” Jared swears and gathers Jensen up against him rough and sudden, slides a middle finger down his crack, slippery with sweat that slicks his finger. Presses hard, demanding, until Jensen grunts and pushes back and just like that he’s inside, buried in tight heat. Inside, inside Jensen. Things go fast then, Jensen’s hands clawing at his back and clinging to his shoulders, Jared’s head spinning with the feel of Jensen’s muscles sucking him in, clenching around him, so tight, so fucking tight. Their mouths find their way back together, sloppy and wet, and Jared’s pushing into Jensen so hard that he’s lifting him half off his feet, Jensen grinding his hips up and down shamelessly, working Jared’s finger deeper. They’re not really kissing, just nudging and sliding swollen lips, and Jensen’s exhales are all moans right into Jared’s mouth. “Fuckme, Jare,” he whispers, “Want it.”
Jensen’s squirming against him like a wildcat, and there can’t be much doubt what he wants or how bad he wants it, breath all rough and needy against Jared’s jaw and hips snapping frantically every time Jared’s finger goes deep. Jared thanks his lucky stars that Sandy’s always been adventurous, bless her heart, because otherwise he’d be right back to the panicking and wondering what the hell to do next, but as it is he stills Jensen’s rocking hips with a firm hand and pulls out, loving the whimper that Jensen doesn’t even try to stifle in response.
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that,” Jared says, and it’s a threat and a promise as he tugs Jensen to the bedroom and lays him out, spreading him wide. The green eyes track him hungrily while Jared grabs the lube he’s never used with anyone but Sandy. His heart’s racing, but so is Jensen’s, he can tell by the way he blinks nervously, gnaws at his full bottom lip. But Jensen doesn’t move, holding his limbs the way Jared arranged them, just a soft sound of encouragement escaping him as Jared crawls between his legs and pushes a dripping finger back inside him. Time speeds up again then, as though neither of them can wait very long now that this is happening, desire spiking through them both with every urgent in and out of Jared’s finger, then fingers. Jensen’s got one hand above his head grabbing the slatted headboard of Jared’s bed to steady himself, the other hooked beneath one leg to pull it higher. His cock is so swollen and dark it’s almost purple, slapping against his belly with the thrusts of Jared’s fingers into his ass, and it’s messy and noisy and obscene, and jesus, Jared thinks, fucking hot as hell.
He waits until Jensen’s groans are no longer intermittent, just a constant desperate sound that waxes and wanes in volume and pitch in time with the harsh movement of Jared’s fingers, until he’s tossing his head back and forth against the pillow like he can’t stand it another second, sweat and precum pooling on his tensed belly. Knows when Jensen’s ready, can feel the give that tells him he can take what he wants now.
“Gonna fuck you, Jen,” he growls, fingers withdrawn, slicked cock straining to replace them, pushing Jensen’s legs up so hard the supple body struggles to bend beneath him. “C’mon, I know you want it, show me Jensen, show me how bad,” he urges, and Jensen’s eyes meet his as he shudders hard, knuckles white gripping the headboard, muscles tensing as Jared pushes his thick cock inside. Jared can see the pain flare in the suddenly moist eyes, brows drawn together as Jensen moans and breathes out rough and irregular, mouth open in an almost-sob. “You gonna take it for me, Jen?” Jared asks, and it’s a real question as he stills himself with effort, searching that pretty face, both of them still shocked by the words torn straight from what seems to be Jared’s decidedly dominant and suprisingly filthy subconscious.
Jensen’s quiet for a second, frozen, eyes closed in what looks like concentration. Then he snaps them open, and Jared can see only need there, raw and burning and desperate. “Fuckyeah,” he says, voice already torn and trembling. “Give it to me. Do it, Jared. Fuckme.”
And ohyeah, Jared’s not the only one who can be uncensored he thinks, watches as the last vestige of controlled Jensen falls away and he lays himself bare, emotions unguarded, strong body open and unresisting as Jared fucks into him, no more space between them. Jared doesn’t hold back, knows he won’t last long, but from the way Jensen’s moaning beneath him and his eyes are rolling back he won’t last either, it’s too good, feels too right after all this time. It only takes Jared’s fingers wrapping around Jensen’s drooling cock to make him come, and the look on Jensen’s face as he does is all it takes to make Jared follow, both of them shuddering and silent and openmouthed, and Jared thinks this is it, we’re lovers now.
* * *
Kim pulls them aside to tell them the good news a week later, that it looks like they’ll get picked up for season three. Jared and Jensen grin, clap each other on the shoulder just like always, genuine happiness and some relief there too, Kim thinks as he watches them. Jared catches Kim’s eye, gives his director a nod, then reaches over to cup his costar’s chin with one hand, gently tugging him closer. Hazel eyes warm and bright with feeling latch onto brilliant green ones flown wide with surprise as Jared leans over and kisses Jensen tenderly on the mouth, leaning into him with a hand snug around the back of his neck, a gesture Kim can read as clearly as if the subtitles were back. Mine.
“About time,” their director snorts as they pull back, smiling at each other. “If I’d been writing the script, that would’ve happened two years ago.”
Jared tugs Jensen against his shoulder, and they settle comfortably together. Something finally clicks in Jared’s brain, now that everything is out in the open. “Is that why you kept sending us all that fanfiction?” he asks, and Kim just smiles.
Fin.
Fandom:RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Things in the show have a way of spilling over into their personal lives, and vice versa.
For earlier chapters of this story go here
It wasn’t really the answer Jared was expecting. In fact, he found himself overwhelmed with implications he’d never even considered might exist, never dared to hope might be the remotest possibility. But Jensen’s tone, and the intensity of his gaze, gave Jared a glimpse of the emotions he’d always suspected ran strong and deep under Jensen’s usually calm exterior. The ones that had always eluded Jared, no matter how hard he tried to decipher them.
Right now words eluded Jared. He just grinned down at Jensen with what he was quite certain was the smile of a lovesick thirteen year old girl, trying to let it all sink in. Trying to believe that Jensen was telling him what he wanted desperately to hear – not just fucking around. So then, that meant . . . what? That Jensen had feelings for him? Not-just-friendship feelings?
Jensen nudged at Jared’s hips with one knee, shoved at his chest in playful annoyance.
“Can we get off the floor now?” One eyebrow cocked. “You’re fucking heavy.”
Jared blushed at the realization that he was still plastered to Jensen, and that his boxers were plastered to *him*. Ohjesus, he thought with a start, I just came in my pants. Humping Jensen’s thigh. “God, Jen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – mean to – I just,” he stammered, rolling to the side and clambering awkwardly to his feet, tugging at his fly where his cock was uncomfortably adhering to his sticky underwear. Ohgod, he was disgusting. What had he been thinking? Oh that’s right, he wasn’t thinking. Not with his upstairs brain.
He watched Jensen get up too, graceful and athletic as always. His jeans were still unbuttoned, and it looked like maybe, just maybe, he was sporting a semi. Too soon to be fully recovered, but maybe. God, what am I doing? Jared wondered with a fresh flush of embarrassment when checking Jensen out had become second nature. Biting his lip, he reluctantly met Jensen’s gaze.
“And again I’ve gotta ask, subtle much?” Jensen smirked, laughed quietly.
“Sorry, I …”
“Jared, cut it out, okay?” Jensen gave another huffing laugh and shook his head. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. Especially not for staring at my crotch.”
More blush. Jared could feel it traveling down his neck, coloring his chest. Now that he’d started this – this, whatever it was – he had no idea where to take it, or even how to feel about it. He’d been so focused on just *wanting* Jensen, just being able to finally kiss that mouth and get his hands around that cock and just *have* him, he hadn’t really thought past the moment it happened. Even now, standing right across from his costar and knowing they’d just gotten off together, it didn’t seem real. Was it?
Jensen hadn’t touched him, not really. He was still fully dressed, cum in his shorts notwithstanding.
Jensen buttoned his jeans, smoothed his shirt. “I think we need to talk, Jared.”
Ohgod. That phrase. The one everyone used when they had something to tell you that they knew you weren’t going to want to hear. The universal shorthand for ‘I’m gonna let you down easy now.’ Jensen was upset with him, upset about what they’d done. Or even if he wasn’t, he was gonna tell Jared now that it couldn’t happen again. There was Grace, or whoever, and there was Sandy , and there was the fact that they were straight. Well, the fact that Jensen was straight. Jared was pretty sure he wasn’t ever going to think of himself as straight again, now that he knew what it did to him to watch Jensen come at his hand, at his words. The way Jen had trembled, the broken moan when he started to lose it. No, he was pretty sure there was nothing straight about the way that image was etched into his brain forever.
“Jared, man, where are you? Get outta your head for ten seconds and talk to me, will ya?” Jensen nudged Jared’s shoulder with his own as he made his way to the fridge in Jared’s tiny kitchen. “C’mon, let’s have something to drink that isn’t beer. You got anything?”
Such a normal conversation, like the most unbelievable thing in the world hadn’t just happened. Jared shook his head, trying to clear it, and accepted the bottle of root beer Jensen handed him. Watched as Jensen took a few gulps, then settled himself to lean back against the counter, bare feet crossed. It looked provocative. And hot as hell.
“I can read your mind, ya know.”
Jared started in alarm at Jensen’s words, but when he looked up, Jensen was grinning at him. “When did you become incapable of thinking of anything but sex, anyway?”
“When I realized I could have it with you.”
Jensen blinked. His expression went serious, the grin softening. “Jesus, Jared,” he said, running his fingers through his cropped hair and shuffling his bare feet.
“S—
“No, don’t, don’t be.” Jensen did that short little snorting laugh again, the one that meant he was embarrassed. “I’m just not used to you sayin’ things like that to me.”
“And you don’t like it, it makes you uncomfortable?”
“Yeah –
“Yeah? It makes you uncomfortable and you don’t like it?”
“No –
“No? You don’t --
“Jared!” Jensen interrupted, exasperated. “Yeah, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but yeah, I like it. Okay? I like it.”
The grin that spread over Jared’s face was so wide and so uncontrollable that he knew the muscles there were going to ache later. “You like it?” he repeated, watching the flush of pink darken Jensen’s cheeks, fade the freckles sprinkled there. Making Jensen blush was maybe the second most wonderful thing in the world. After making him come.
Jensen shook his head. “Jared,” he said softly, “God Jare, the way you look at me.” His voice trailed off and he bit his lower lip and dropped his eyes for a moment.
“Do you like that too?” Jared asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful.
Another huffing half-laugh, and Jensen looked up at him, jade eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Without warning, Jared could suddenly feel the heat flare between them, like a physical thing created out of nowhere and just *there*, making his insides go hot and fluttery. Making his cock start to rally again, itching for another round. He took a step toward Jensen, wanting to touch him again, but Jensen stopped him abruptly with a hand against his chest, keeping them apart.
“Don’t, Jared.” The green eyes were still warm and the touch was gentle, but there was strength in Jensen’s pushing him back. Determination.
Jared backed away in confusion, hurt and fear eclipsing the desire and hope he’d just been feeling. “But I thought you …” he began, “W- what do you …” He stammered, not knowing whether to apologize or be angry. What the fuck was happening?
Instantly Jensen reached out and grabbed a fistful of Jared’s tee shirt, yanking him back a few inches closer. His expression wasn’t angry, but the flirty playfulness Jared had thought was there a minute ago was gone, replaced by seriousness. Jensen’s brows drew together, and a flash of almost-anguish flitted across his pretty face. He took a deep breath, then let Jared go, smoothing the bunched cotton against Jared’s chest before backing away again.
“We need to talk, Jared. And fuck knows, we’re not very good at it.”
Jared shrugged. Okay, that much was true.
“And if you touch me . . .” Jensen paused, shaking his head like he was trying to talk himself into – or out of – something, and Jared froze, steeling himself for the probability that he’d never kiss that voluptuous mouth again, never even really *see* what Jensen looked like hard and wanting. The sense of loss swept over him, made his knees weak.
Jensen looked up at him at the shift in Jared’s stance, the slight withdrawal. “Jared, if you touch me . . . “
“It’s okay Jen, I won’t, I won’t.” Jared flushed with real embarrassment, his head spinning with confusion. “God, I’m sorry.”
Jensen put up a hand to stop him, this time just a gesture in the space that was now between them. “If you touch me, Jare, we’re not gonna get very much talking done.”
Oh. Ohhhhhhh. Jared’s ear-to-ear grin returned, along with the warmth pooling in his belly, the sense of relief making him dizzy all over again. He stepped back a little and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his bare feet. Maybe if he kept his hands trapped there, he’d be able to have a conversation without grabbing the sharp jut of hipbone where Jen’s tee shirt tucked into one side of his jeans. Or sliding his eager fingers over the smooth curve of bare bicep. Or…..
“Padalecki, jesuschrist, stop it, willya?” Jensen snorted into his root beer, then laughed for real, the sound so familiar to Jared that he couldn’t help but join in. They giggled at each other for a minute, letting the laughter soothe the tension and diminish the awkwardness.
“Okay, okay,” Jared finally said, trying to be serious. “We need to talk, and we suck at it, so okay. Maybe I should turn around and not look at you so I don’t get ….distracted.”
“Maybe.”
Jared turned around, grinning at the sound of Jensen’s exasperated protest behind him. “Jared!”
“I can’t help it if you’re hot, Jen,” Jared protested in return, but he turned back, and this time he nodded and shook off the smile. “But okay, you’re right. I don’t really know what we’re doing here, and …” He paused, not knowing how to express the mix of emotions swirling around inside, and not knowing if he had the guts to ask if Jensen felt the same.
Jensen uncrossed his feet, shuffled them on the bare floor, braced both hands behind him on the counter. “So,” he began, hesitantly. “When did you – you know, when did you, know?”
Maybe not the most articulate question, but Jared understood. “Mid season, I guess. A while ago. Didn’t really know, but just, looking back now, I guess I sorta did. Born Under a Bad Sign, I think. When I had to hurt you – I mean when Sam – that scene, it stirred things up in me I guess.” Jared cleared his throat, unsure of how much to say.
Jensen nodded. “Yeah. I felt that too.”
“So you had – you had – feelings – for me – or something – then too?” Jared’s voice came out higher pitched than usual, his anxiety about Jensen’s answer obvious.
Jensen worried his lip with his teeth, dropping his gaze. Dug his bare toes into the floor. When he looked back up, the depth to those emerald eyes hit Jared like a punch, searing in its intensity. “Long before then, Jared,” he said.
There was a beat, almost audible in the suddenly silent room, a long moment where Jared didn’t respond as he tossed those few words around in his mind, examining their implication. Long before he’d realized he was falling for his costar, Jensen had realized the same? Long before?
“How long before, Jen?”
Jensen broke eye contact to stare at the floor again, the way he did when he was searching for the right words. Jared wanted to tell him that there were no wrong answers, that the farther back Jensen’s feelings went, the better Jared would feel about this – this – thing they had going. He wanted Jensen to tell him that he’d wanted Jared from the moment they’d walked into that casting office to read for this show and discovered it was only the two of them – only the two of them. Isn’t that how it had felt for a long long time now?
“First season,” Jensen finally answered. “Maybe even the pilot, looking back, but I didn’t realize it.”
“The pilot?” Jared went back over the filming in his mind, searching for any evidence of sparks between them.
Jensen sighed, like this was hard for him to admit. And Jared imagined it probably was, come to think of it. God knows, if the shoe was on the other foot….. How long had it taken him to get to this point? And Jensen had been keeping this to himself for almost two years? Jesus. No wonder it was hard to talk about now. And he wasn’t helping much with his incredulous questions. Make some contribution here, Padalecki, he admonished himself. Don’t make him do all the work.
“You’ve had feelings for me ever since the pilot?” he repeated, watching Jensen shuffle his feet again uncomfortably.
“That’s awesome!” Jared grinned, slapping a hand against his own thigh in emphasis. “Dude, that’s a long time, I can’t believe you never said anything – why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Jared knew instantly that had been the right thing to say. Jensen returned his smile, chuckling at Jared’s enthusiasm, relief wiping the discomfort from his fine features. “I didn’t – I really didn’t think . . .”
“Think I felt the same way?” Jared interrupted, eager to talk now that the tension between them was easing, eager to know.
“Yeah that, of course that – but I didn’t even really think I was feeling what I was feeling, for a long time. I mean, I’d never felt, you know -- that.” Jensen gestured with one hand, Jared easily catching the meaning as ‘who the fuck knows what to call this because I’m straight and so why am I thinking about my costar when I jerk off’.
Jared nodded. “Yeah, that.” He mirrored the gesture. “Yeah, I felt the same way, kept trying to talk myself out of it, kept going what the hell am I thinking, why the hell am I thinking that?”
They were grinning at each other, nodding, sliding back onto the familiar same wavelength where they could finish each other’s sentences and read each other’s minds. The mindset they shared when they were Sam and Dean, comfortable and intimate. But now there was an edge to it, something else they were sharing as Jared and Jensen, something more.
“I got – you know – the first time we had to get physical,” Jensen admitted, a hint of shyness in his voice.
“When we had to fight, in Sam and Jessica’s apartment?” Jared remembered the retakes. Jensen on top. Him on top. The memory came back repainted, eroticized, making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Pinning me made you hard?”
Jensen shook his head slowly, a faint blush again spreading under his freckles. “More you pinning me,” he said softly, just the words making his voice rougher.
“Oh,” said Jared, enduring another twitch as his jeans tightened. He could feel the dynamic between them shift almost palpably with Jensen’s admission, with the way he offered it so reluctantly, with the flush creeping down his neck. “Tell me more.”
Jensen’s eyes went darker at what sounded more like a command than a request, and Jared knew he felt it too. And went with it.
“The way you just grabbed me by both arms and flipped me over,” he said hurriedly, speech suddenly pressured, voice slightly breathless. “Just – just like it was nothing, happened so easily.” He paused, then kept going before Jared could reply. “Could feel how strong you were, just in that movement, and that sensation, that feeling of being just – just –
“Manhandled?” Jared offered, and Jensen’s eyes snapped up to his, his lips parting in surprise. Jared wondered if Jensen’s cock had just jerked. His own had. Again.
“Yeah. Yeah, manhandled.” Jensen rolled the word around on his tongue, trying it out like a tasty new piece of candy. “The feeling of being manhandled by you, and then you were on top of me, holding me down, and it just hit me, like – like, woah, what’s happening, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Jared answered. “It just took me longer to recognize that feeling for what it is. But yeah, I know.” The tension between them was charged and sparking now, and keeping his distance was getting difficult. Jared forced himself to keep talking, to try and get enough out in the open that there weren’t any barriers between them. Reminding himself that he wanted to see Jensen more than stripped physically, that he needed to see inside too, to understand.
“Did your breaking up with Clare have something to do with me?”
Jensen sighed heavily, tapping the fingers of one hand against the countertop. “Indirectly, I guess,” he admitted. “I don’t think it would’ve worked with her anyway, but I was so messed up in my head about what I was feeling for you by then. The whole denial thing wasn’t working so well anymore, and I just started to feel like I was using her or something. It got too complicated.”
“So you just started hooking up with random girls for between-takes blowjobs? Like that Grace chick? Were there guys too?” Jared couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice, the remembered jealousy, even though he knew he had no right to it. Couldn’t keep himself from asking that last question either now that he knew how long Jensen had been thinking about sex with a guy – well, with him anyway -- though he felt panicked about what Jensen’s response might be.
“No, no guys. I thought about it, thought maybe that would make it better, make me stop thinking about you like that. But then I thought maybe it would just make it worse.” Jensen shrugged, uncomfortable, the blush across his cheeks deepening.
Jared let out the breath he’d been holding, feeling a surprising flood of relief. The thought of Jensen hooking up with another guy, somehow that was so much worse than the women he’d always known were in Jen’s bed. “And Grace? The other girls? Just random hookups?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Jensen shrugged, but he looked remorseful. “I didn’t really think you’d care, Jared. Or maybe I wanted you to, I dunno.”
“You wanted to make me jealous?” The possibility had never occurred to Jared, and now he was finding it half annoying and half flattering.
“No – yes. Maybe. Not consciously, but – we’d kissed, you know, and god, it was so fucking hot, everything I thought it would be, but then you never followed up, you wouldn’t even talk about it. So I thought well, fuck it. Grace was there, other girls were there, I just wanted to forget it after a while. Because I thought you did.”
Jared ran his hand through his own unruly hair in exasperation. “No Jen, I never did, but I thought you did! I mean, shit, you cried when I kissed you, Jensen. What was I supposed to think? And you were drunk! How was I supposed to know you fucking liked it??”
Jensen looked remorseful all over again at that, and Jared softened. “Hell, you said it, we both suck at conversation.” He gave Jensen a half smile, let it turn flirty. “But I think we’ve done a pretty good job here, right? Have we talked enough, Jen? Cuz I can think of better things to do right about now.”
Part Two
The atmosphere in the small room shifts again, and Jensen’s eyes come back to Jared’s impossibly green and burning with desire. The look goes through Jared like lightning, until all his muscles are jumping at once, eager and ready. This is gonna happen between them, he knows it now. Jensen wants it. Jared wants it. All of it.
* * *
Jared’s staring, he knows he is, but he can’t seem to help it – he hasn’t even *seen* Jensen yet, has only *felt* that lean hard body, and godhelphim, he wants to see, needs to see. Jensen has always been obscured in more ways than one, projecting whatever image he wants to portray. And that’s not what Jared wants. Things have changed between them, and now he wants to see *in*, peel away those protective layers like the metaphors stitched into Dean’s many shirts, and whoever thinks that Jensen doesn’t wear the same kind of protection just isn’t looking hard enough.
But Jared is. He’s looking so hard that Jensen gets nervous, drops his green-eyed gaze and then looks back up at Jared biting his bottom lip. “You look like you wanna eat me up,” he says, chuckling to make it sound like a joke, but the corners of Jared’s mouth don’t even twitch in response, and his hazel eyes stay focused on Jensen’s as he slowly shakes his head.
“Uh uh. Wanna *open* you up, Jensen. All the way up.”
Jared sees a flash of surprise flicker across Jensen’s face at his words, and Jared wonders where the hell that even came from. It sounds incredibly dirty, and that’s not him, but suddenly that’s what he wants and he needs the words to mirror it perfectly, the way he feels. No more pretending. His peripheral vision catches the clutch of Jensen’s fingers around the edge of the counter, digging in, releasing, like the anxiety needs to bleed out of him somewhere and he has to move but doesn’t dare. Jared has him pinned like a sought-after-forever and finally-captured butterfly on a collector’s pallet, rare and beautiful and trapped. Jensen swallows, and Jared catches the slight tremor in his jaw, on his lips. His dick twitches painfully at the sight.
For a minute, Jared thinks he’s asking for too much, for something Jensen can’t give. Maybe he’s already gone as far as he can, bared as much of himself as he dares. Too much need for hanging onto himself in the midst of the craziness that so often swirls around the actors now, too much dependence on the distance and privacy that guard the shyness underneath. It’s so much of what he loves Jensen for, goes right down to the core of him, keeps him an introvert even as he eats up the screen or owns the stage, as surely as Jared’s temperament keeps him the hump-you-in-public extrovert. That’s Jensen, and -- And did he just use the word love? Because goddamn if that isn’t what he’s feeling right now, even more than the lust that’s got him hard again and aching.
Jared doesn’t move, even though he wants to, wants to take what he wants, wants to strip the tee shirt over Jensen’s head and tug off his jeans and memorize every plane and curve and freckle so he can call the image up in his head every night when he jerks off and wishes he was looking at Jensen.
Jensen lets out a breath, a little shakily, nods. Hands still working on the counter’s edge. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Okay.”
And Jared surprises himself with how quickly his hesitation is gone. Just erased with those two words of acquiescence. All those months of wondering, of feeling like a (really inept) detective trying to decipher what Jensen was wanting or thinking or feeling – all that time of Jared being too afraid to ask, it’s all gone, and fucking good riddance to it. Because now he knows, and he feels the roles they’ve been playing slide to their feet and leave behind just the two of them. For real.
Easy to go slow this time, he’s not afraid this is his only chance, can see the need in Jensen’s eyes right through the nervousness. Places his hands over Jen’s on the counter edge, reassuring, as he moves closer, almost touching hips but not quite, his bare toes nudging Jensen’s. Slides his hands up his costar’s arms, wrapping long fingers tight around bare biceps, feeling the strength there. Jensen’s eyes go wider, and Jared smiles a little, knows he’s thinking about their size, not used to the feel of a man’s hands on him. He squeezes, feeling over the muscle under the soft skin, exploring. Possessive.
Jensen doesn’t move as he drops his hands to the hem of Jensen’s tee shirt, peels it up his chest slowly. When it hits his armpits and Jared pushes, Jensen makes a little sound that makes Jared’s cock twitch, and raises his arms above his head so Jared can slide it off him. Instantly Jared catches both his wrists as the shirt falls to the floor, pulls them together and wraps one large hand around them easily to keep them raised as he steps back slightly to look – really look.
“Jesus, Jensen, look at you.” Jared’s eyes circle slowly from firm chest and dark pointed nipples, down the taper of slender hips, then back up to rake over the damp curls exposed beneath his raised arms, the muscles stretched taut and Jared’s hand wrapped tight around both fine-boned wrists. It surprises him, how thin Jensen is, despite the broad shoulders and the muscles bunching in his biceps, contouring his flat stomach. There are sprinkles of freckles on his chest, over his hipbones, and Jared wants to touch every single one, wonders if he could feel them underneath his fingers.
Jensen’s staring at him with what looks like amazement, and it’s endearing and fucking hot at the same time, and he still hasn’t made any move to lower his arms or free his hands, and that’s even fucking hotter. Jared cups a sharp hipbone with his other hand, feels Jensen’s muscles twitch as he runs a finger downward, tracing the indentation to where it disappears under the leather belt of Jensen’s low-slung jeans.
“Want you naked,” Jared tells him, voice already thick with lust. “Wanna see all of you.”
He waits for a moment, still holding Jensen’s wrists tightly, requires the nod that tells him Jen is with him. When he gets it, he nods back approvingly, releases Jensen’s wrists and drops his hands to Jensen’s belt, unfastening it with ease this time, popping the button. One hand on Jensen’s hip, Jared strips the zipper quickly, falls to his knees as he tugs the jeans and boxers down. Jensen’s cock, stiff and eager, springs free and slides against his cheek as he bends to work Jensen’s feet free, and above him he hears Jen swear at the contact. He looks up grinning, impulsively sticks out his tongue and licks a quick taste, making Jensen swear again as his dick jerks hard against Jared’s lips.
Jared gets to his feet slowly, eyes glued to his costar’s impressive erection. Watches as a pink flush creeps up Jensen’s chest and neck, colors his cheeks. “Mmmm,” Jared says appreciatively, staring unabashedly, licking his lips as he slides his gaze lewdly over every inch of Jensen’s nakedness. And Jensen may be embarrassed, but it’s doing nothing to stem his excitement, because his dick is so hard it’s positively obscene.
When Jared finally raises his gaze to Jensen’s face again, Jen’s long lashes have fluttered shut against his pink freckled cheeks. The contrast between the pretty little boy shyness and the aggressive jut of his not-at-all-little-boyish cock is so compelling that Jared actually groans out loud, and Jensen’s eyes snap open. He bites his lip, coloring even more. For someone so strikingly good looking, Jensen’s never been comfortable with being admired like this, and Jared knows it. Appreciates that he’s being given this chance, that Jensen will give this to him.
“You’re beautiful, Jen,” he murmurs, waiting for the dismissive shrug he knows will come. It does, but then Jensen surprises him by breaking his silence.
“So are you,” he says softly.
Jared’s not expecting that. Yeah, he knows what Jensen said, that he’s been wanting him too, for a long time. Intellectually he knows that, that’s why he’s doing this, why he finally can let himself do what he wants. But everything that really means, that he hasn’t quite gotten his head around yet. “You think so?”
Jensen nods, fingers back to clutching the counter. “Yeah, Jay. I do. You never see me watching you, but I do.”
“When?” Jared needs to hear it, needs to believe it.
“When you’re looking away. When you won’t catch me.” Jensen’s smiling a little, not Dean’s smirk, but his own shy grin. “Sometimes after you’ve been looking at me, and then you turn away, that’s when I know I can look at you.”
Jared’s warm all over at that, and his erection is getting painful in his jeans.
Jensen shifts, the movement completely erotic now that he’s naked, and Jared gets even warmer.
“Why am I the only one naked?” Jensen smiles as he asks, lets Jared see the desire burning dark in his green eyes, and that’s all the invitation Jared needs. Shirt slips off, jeans shucked down, boxers follow, and Jared’s as naked as Jensen. For the first time, they’re staring at each other without anything in between. Not clothes, not roles, not misconceptions and misinterpretations and misunderstandings.
“God, Jared,” Jensen says softly, taking him in with acquisitive eyes, long and lean and tanned and hard. It’s Jensen who steps forward and presses their bodies together, hands sliding up Jared’s back to pull him close, mouth working its way up from shoulder to throat to jawline before Jared bends to press their lips together. It’s intoxicating, so much skin against warm skin, twenty eager fingers mapping the rippling lines of muscle and flesh. Thighs tangle, shift, prickle of coarse hair as they bump up against each other, cocks sliding between the solid warmth of their stomachs. So different, Jared thinks, from Sandy, her body small and delicate and soft against him. Jensen’s none of those things, no matter how pretty his green eyes are or how voluptuous his pink mouth. He’s all stiffness and solid and even the need Jared can feel radiating off Jensen’s body is demanding, untempered.
It’s fumbling and awkward and blissful, and Jared’s breathing hard and scenting Jensen with every inhale, faint smell of beer and cigarette smoke still clinging to his skin, layered over salt and sweat and masculine and Jen. Jared tastes, mouthing throat and ear and nape, and Jensen’s fingers claw at his waist as Jared uses his teeth on the back of his neck. Jensen lets his head fall to the side in response, easy in Jared’s grasp, inviting plunder, and Jared growls against the wet skin and bites down harder. Jensen surges up against him with a gasp, shoving them both away from the counter as his body tightens and pushes hard against Jared’s hips, and Jared suddenly remembers what Jensen said before, how much it turned him on when Jared pinned him, manhandled him. How Jensen touched himself that day in the trailer while Jared played peeping tom -- the look on his face as he twisted his own nipple.
Jensen likes it rough.
Jesus, Jared thinks. Jensen, whose shirt sleeves are always rolled up just so, whose pant legs are always the perfect length to curl just under his heels, never too short or too long. Jensen, who can act his way into or out of fucking anything, he’s that good. Jensen wants it -- wants Jared to mess with that perfection, break that control. Wants Jared to fuck him up just so, not too much, just enough, trusts that he can.
That trust makes Jared so fucking hot he can barely control himself at that moment, let alone take some of Jen’s. And yet that’s just what Jensen is asking him to do, and the force of that awareness hits Jared hard, makes him shudder. This is the real Jensen he has in his arms, naked and open and unprotected, making himself vulnerable in ways Jared never imagined he’d have the privilege of seeing. Emotions and needs laid bare before him, spelled out in words and touch and the sounds that rumble in Jensen’s throat beneath the grip of Jared’s teeth, helpless and genuine and as real as his own answering growls that bind them together in an intimacy that goes far beyond sex.
Jared opens his mouth over the bruised flesh, licks the burn away, shifts and finds another spot to nip, teeth scraping teasingly over wet hot skin, close to Jensen’s ear where he won’t be able to hide the bruise tomorrow. He knows Jen knows it, feels the sudden grip of fingers dig into his hip to say stop – don’t – but the words don’t come, and instead of stop the fingers clench and pull and telegraph a silent go. Jensen squirms and bucks as Jared marks him hard, and his left leg jerks up like it’s on a string and wraps around Jared’s hip. It’s the same kind of move that made Jared come in his pants just a half hour ago, and this time it gets to him just as much, loosens something in Jared’s psyche that makes him forget to think before he speaks and has him saying things he’s never even thought before, let alone spoken aloud.
“Like that, don’tcha, huh?” Jared whispers against the smarting welt below Jensen’s ear, tongue working the red skin over, flicking against the lobe. He hitches Jensen’s leg up higher, forcing him back against the counter, sliding a hand down the firm bare thigh to grip his ass. He doesn’t expect an answer to the rhetorical question, can feel Jen shudder as he bites down again.
“Yeah,” Jensen breathes out suddenly, hooking his foot around Jared to press them closer. “Like it.” Jared nibbles teasingly, feels Jensen’s impatience in the strain of his long neck, the rough swallow. “Want it.” And then he’s grabbing Jared’s hand on his ass and guiding him. Jared’s fingers follow his lead, slide between the other man’s firm round cheeks, hot and moist with the sweat that’s gathered at Jensen’s spine. Jensen bucks up against him again, and Jared can feel the wetness at the head of Jensen’s dick as it leaves a slick trail up and down Jared’s tense belly. “Want it,” Jensen says again, voice deep and half-whispered, pitched just this side of pleading.
“Tell me,” Jared urges, “Tell me what ya’ want, Jensen.” He needs to hear it, needs to know, the uncertainty about what to do still circling at the fringes of his brain. This is a man in his arms, no doubt about that with the hard cock poking his stomach – this is Jensen, for godsakes. Why didn’t he read up on this or something? Jensen’s all pliable and submissive and wanting, and Jared feels like he should somehow just know, but jesus, he doesn’t, this is different, so different.
But apparently Jensen does. He pulls away slightly and manages an “I – I wanna,” before dropping to his knees and leaning forward to kiss Jared’s stomach, forehead pressed tightly against him, hands sliding up Jared’s muscled thighs to rest on his hips. Hot wet tongue slides over the skin of his abdomen and Jared’s belly tenses, muscles dancing, hands going automatically to Jensen’s head to clutch at the too-short hair. Ohgod, Jensen’s gonna, he’s gonna – and then Jared realizes what he’s doing, and it makes his cock jerk so hard it practically slaps Jensen in the face. He’s licking his own juices from Jared’s stomach, little tentative flicks of his tongue giving way to long strokes, lashes fluttering closed as he laps every sticky drop his dick has drooled against Jared’s skin.
“Jen, god, ohgod,” is all Jared manages, and then Jensen’s mumbling “Wanna suck you, wanna taste you,” and Jared can’t think at all as those cocksucking lips curve around his dick and take him in. It’s clumsy and sloppy, Jensen trying not to choke and Jared trying not to thrust and both of them making incoherent noises of simultaneous satisfaction and frustration, until Jared knows he’s not gonna be able to keep from losing it, yanks Jensen back with both big hands around his head.
“Stop, god,” he wheezes, looking down at Jensen still kneeling before him, mouth red and swollen from sucking, string of saliva and cum dangling from his slick bottom lip. Jensen darts his pink tongue out to lick it up. Jesus.
“What else do ya’ want, Jen?” Jared asks, and his voice is heated and gruff now as he pulls Jensen to his feet by both arms and presses his impossibly hard dick against the other man’s hip, unable to stop himself from rubbing against the warm flesh there, needing the friction. “Feel what you’ve done to me? How hard my dick is?”
Jensen trembles against him, and Jared wonders again where this is coming from, knows Jen’s wondering it too, when he learned to talk like this. Jared can feel what it’s doing to Jensen every time he lets his words come out without worrying about how filthy they sound. Knows Jensen’s loving it. “Tell me, Jensen. What else.”
It’s not until Jensen’s pressed up against him again, face buried in Jared’s shoulder, that he answers, a rough whisper. “Want you inside me,” he says, the need cracking his voice.
Jared’s hands still against the other man’s back. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks, a little bit incredulous, unable to see Jensen’s face where it’s still pressed to his shoulder. Blowjobs are one thing, but fucking? That’s way beyond anything Jared’s ever even let himself think about when it comes to Jensen. Guys. Jensen. That’s – big.
Jensen won’t look at him, maybe can’t. But he answers immediately, Jared can feel the nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, I do.” He can sense Jared’s hesitation, misreads it, stammers. “I mean, if you want to, I do.” Jared’s still stuck pondering the improbability of all this, doesn’t answer, and Jensen tenses in his arms. “Not if you don’t want to though, not – only if – I thought, but –
Jared can almost feel the blush heat Jensen’s face where it’s pressed against him, knows he’s feeling humiliated by his admission and Jared’s lack of response. Jared’s getting better at this, this making himself talk even when it’s difficult. And fuck, it’s difficult right now, with his dick throbbing against Jen’s hip and Jensen telling him he wants to take it up his gorgeous little ass. Jesus.
He slides a hand down Jensen’s back soothingly, rests it at the base of his spine. “That’s not it, Jen. I want to, jesusfuckingchrist suddenly I want to so bad I can’t believe it.” And it’s more true than anything’s ever been, Jared does want it. He’s gone from not even considering the possibility to feeling like if he doesn’t get his dick buried in Jensen’s tight ass right the fuck now he’s gonna explode just thinking about it. “But you’ve never – you’ve never even done that.”
Jensen seems to steel himself, pulls back enough to look Jared in the eye. His eyes are barely green anymore, dark and wet and fucking intense, lashes half lowered as he meets Jared’s gaze. “But I’ve wanted to,” he says, all deep and serious, like he’s trying to convince Jared of his sincerity. “I’ve wanted to so fucking many times, thought about having your cock – god, big – cock – slamming into me, fucking me, fucking me Jare – every time I come I think about it, even when I don’t want to, even when I’m with someone else, but it’s just *there*, pushing me over the edge every time.” Jensen’s sounding desperate, his hands clutching at Jared’s biceps and hanging on like he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve and just fall if he lets go. “I want it, Jay, I want it so bad.”
Jared can’t believe he’s hesitating, but god. God. Did Jensen just say he had a big cock? And that he wanted it slamming into his ass? God.
“Please,” Jensen whispers. “I know what it’ll feel like, Jay, I’ve – I’ve played around with – I know – please, Jare.” And suddenly he stops, seeming to realize how much what he’s doing is sounding like begging. Jared realizes it too, and it obliterates his last bit of reluctance, dissolves it in the jesusfuckinghot image of Jensen shoving something up his ass and imagining it’s Jared’s dick.
“Okay, fuck, okay,” Jared swears and gathers Jensen up against him rough and sudden, slides a middle finger down his crack, slippery with sweat that slicks his finger. Presses hard, demanding, until Jensen grunts and pushes back and just like that he’s inside, buried in tight heat. Inside, inside Jensen. Things go fast then, Jensen’s hands clawing at his back and clinging to his shoulders, Jared’s head spinning with the feel of Jensen’s muscles sucking him in, clenching around him, so tight, so fucking tight. Their mouths find their way back together, sloppy and wet, and Jared’s pushing into Jensen so hard that he’s lifting him half off his feet, Jensen grinding his hips up and down shamelessly, working Jared’s finger deeper. They’re not really kissing, just nudging and sliding swollen lips, and Jensen’s exhales are all moans right into Jared’s mouth. “Fuckme, Jare,” he whispers, “Want it.”
Jensen’s squirming against him like a wildcat, and there can’t be much doubt what he wants or how bad he wants it, breath all rough and needy against Jared’s jaw and hips snapping frantically every time Jared’s finger goes deep. Jared thanks his lucky stars that Sandy’s always been adventurous, bless her heart, because otherwise he’d be right back to the panicking and wondering what the hell to do next, but as it is he stills Jensen’s rocking hips with a firm hand and pulls out, loving the whimper that Jensen doesn’t even try to stifle in response.
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that,” Jared says, and it’s a threat and a promise as he tugs Jensen to the bedroom and lays him out, spreading him wide. The green eyes track him hungrily while Jared grabs the lube he’s never used with anyone but Sandy. His heart’s racing, but so is Jensen’s, he can tell by the way he blinks nervously, gnaws at his full bottom lip. But Jensen doesn’t move, holding his limbs the way Jared arranged them, just a soft sound of encouragement escaping him as Jared crawls between his legs and pushes a dripping finger back inside him. Time speeds up again then, as though neither of them can wait very long now that this is happening, desire spiking through them both with every urgent in and out of Jared’s finger, then fingers. Jensen’s got one hand above his head grabbing the slatted headboard of Jared’s bed to steady himself, the other hooked beneath one leg to pull it higher. His cock is so swollen and dark it’s almost purple, slapping against his belly with the thrusts of Jared’s fingers into his ass, and it’s messy and noisy and obscene, and jesus, Jared thinks, fucking hot as hell.
He waits until Jensen’s groans are no longer intermittent, just a constant desperate sound that waxes and wanes in volume and pitch in time with the harsh movement of Jared’s fingers, until he’s tossing his head back and forth against the pillow like he can’t stand it another second, sweat and precum pooling on his tensed belly. Knows when Jensen’s ready, can feel the give that tells him he can take what he wants now.
“Gonna fuck you, Jen,” he growls, fingers withdrawn, slicked cock straining to replace them, pushing Jensen’s legs up so hard the supple body struggles to bend beneath him. “C’mon, I know you want it, show me Jensen, show me how bad,” he urges, and Jensen’s eyes meet his as he shudders hard, knuckles white gripping the headboard, muscles tensing as Jared pushes his thick cock inside. Jared can see the pain flare in the suddenly moist eyes, brows drawn together as Jensen moans and breathes out rough and irregular, mouth open in an almost-sob. “You gonna take it for me, Jen?” Jared asks, and it’s a real question as he stills himself with effort, searching that pretty face, both of them still shocked by the words torn straight from what seems to be Jared’s decidedly dominant and suprisingly filthy subconscious.
Jensen’s quiet for a second, frozen, eyes closed in what looks like concentration. Then he snaps them open, and Jared can see only need there, raw and burning and desperate. “Fuckyeah,” he says, voice already torn and trembling. “Give it to me. Do it, Jared. Fuckme.”
And ohyeah, Jared’s not the only one who can be uncensored he thinks, watches as the last vestige of controlled Jensen falls away and he lays himself bare, emotions unguarded, strong body open and unresisting as Jared fucks into him, no more space between them. Jared doesn’t hold back, knows he won’t last long, but from the way Jensen’s moaning beneath him and his eyes are rolling back he won’t last either, it’s too good, feels too right after all this time. It only takes Jared’s fingers wrapping around Jensen’s drooling cock to make him come, and the look on Jensen’s face as he does is all it takes to make Jared follow, both of them shuddering and silent and openmouthed, and Jared thinks this is it, we’re lovers now.
* * *
Kim pulls them aside to tell them the good news a week later, that it looks like they’ll get picked up for season three. Jared and Jensen grin, clap each other on the shoulder just like always, genuine happiness and some relief there too, Kim thinks as he watches them. Jared catches Kim’s eye, gives his director a nod, then reaches over to cup his costar’s chin with one hand, gently tugging him closer. Hazel eyes warm and bright with feeling latch onto brilliant green ones flown wide with surprise as Jared leans over and kisses Jensen tenderly on the mouth, leaning into him with a hand snug around the back of his neck, a gesture Kim can read as clearly as if the subtitles were back. Mine.
“About time,” their director snorts as they pull back, smiling at each other. “If I’d been writing the script, that would’ve happened two years ago.”
Jared tugs Jensen against his shoulder, and they settle comfortably together. Something finally clicks in Jared’s brain, now that everything is out in the open. “Is that why you kept sending us all that fanfiction?” he asks, and Kim just smiles.
Fin.
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