SOCCER SHORTS.
I love soccer shorts. Mmmm...soccer shorts.
OKAY. This is 870 words long, it is J2, and it is, I think, PG-13. I intended to make it way pornier than it is, but dudes, I've never written porn and I chickened out.
If you hate it, blame my enabler, dugindeep.
Jensen is lying on the couch in the living room, which is pretty fucking messy right now. They've been really busy lately - for awhile, when Sam and Dean were broken up, it had practically been like a vacation. Separating the two of them had cut down each of their scenes by half and Jensen hadn't known what to do with all of that extra time. He'd gone to the set on an actual day off, pretty much out of habit, but they'd sent him home, told him he'd need it for a future episode where he had to play two versions of Dean and Jared would only be around for like ten minutes. (On the up side, Jared would have to wear something really hilarious. Awesome.) So he'd gone home and pretty much out of boredom, he'd cleaned the whole downstairs area from top to bottom. Vacuumed and everything. Jared had teased him for like five days straight about what a good little woman he was. He'd flipped Jared off every time, until the time Jared had leaned forward and fucking sucked his middle finger. Who the fuck does that?
Anyway, that had been a couple weeks ago and the living room is back to its usual state of disarray. There's a pile of magazines and newspapers on the coffee table, a plate and a mug from a couple days ago under the coffee table, and, for some reason, a pile of legos next to the coffee table. Jensen doesn't want to know.
The TV is tuned to Judge Judy, and Jensen would be happy to change the channel if he knew where the fucking remote was, but it's not on the coffee table or anywhere else he can see, and Sadie is snoozing on his shins and getting up doesn't seem like it's in the cards.
"Jared!" he yells, pretty sure his voice will carry upstairs. "Where the fuck is the remote?"
"I don't know! Did you look in the freezer?"
"Fuck you!" Jensen yells back. One fucking time, and he had been really, really drunk. It had taken them like two weeks to find the remote, and as soon as they did, Jensen remembered thinking that this would be a hilarious prank to play on Jared. Oh, alcohol - the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.
"Jared!"
"Find the fucking remote yourself!"
"Are you paying me back for the freezer thing? Because I looked and I can't find it anywhere!" He hasn't budged an inch, and is staring at the ceiling. Sadie is still curled up comfortably on his legs.
"For fuck's sake!" Jared's voice is accompanied by a lot of stomping, as he descends the stairs as noisily as possible. Which is actually pretty noisily.
"You are the laziest fucker I know," Jared says, his voice only a few feet away now.
"I am not. I work 14 hour days. It's Saturday. I don't want to do fucking..." his voice trails off because he's finally summoned up the energy to prop himself up and look over the back of the sofa. And Jared is standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of ratty old red soccer shorts. The silky kind. Jensen knows Jared played soccer in high school, but...could those possibly be the same shorts? But there's no way they would fit him now. Would they?
"Dude, are you sitting on the remote?" Jared asks.
"What? No. I'd feel it."
"Not if it's between the cushions." He shoves his hand in the crack between the middle cushion and the back of the sofa, feeling around. Jensen pretty much just watches. The shorts are sagging a little, revealing a thin line of hair that travels up to his bellybutton, and the hard lines of his hips. He reaches out and touches the silky material of the shorts. They're soft and worn from repeated washings.
"I've never seen these before," Jensen tells him.
"Yeah, that's because I never wear them. I need to do laundry and they are literally the only thing in my closet that's clean. Well, it's this or my Armani suit. I didn't even realize I had these anymore."
"Mmmm...I like these better than the Armani." Jensen runs his hand over the silky material, and cups Jared's ass.
"My ratty old soccer shorts are turning you on?," Jared asks, incredulously. "I knew you were strange, but this is really weird."
"Says the twenty-seven-year-old man with a pile of legos in his living room," Jensen murmurs. "Come here."
Jared pretty much collapses over the back of the couch, on top of him. Sadie yelps and squeezes out from the space between her humans' legs.
"Sorry, girl," Jared tells her, sheepishly.
Jared is heavy, but Jensen doesn't mind. The soft shorts hide absolutely nothing and as Jensen continues to stroke the silky fabric, he can feel Jared getting turned on. He pushes himself up, shoves Jared to his knees. Jared leans back against the other end of the sofa, his eyes wide, his breathing heavy, watching Jensen watching him.
He looks...uncomfortable.
"Dude, what the..." Jared reaches behind him, and pulls out, from between the cushion and the arm of the sofa, the remote control.
WITH BONUS ARTS BY dugindeep!!!! PREPARE FOR A BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECE, BBS.
JARED PLAYS WITH HIS LEGOS.
Part 2
OKAY. This is 870 words long, it is J2, and it is, I think, PG-13. I intended to make it way pornier than it is, but dudes, I've never written porn and I chickened out.
If you hate it, blame my enabler, dugindeep.
Jensen is lying on the couch in the living room, which is pretty fucking messy right now. They've been really busy lately - for awhile, when Sam and Dean were broken up, it had practically been like a vacation. Separating the two of them had cut down each of their scenes by half and Jensen hadn't known what to do with all of that extra time. He'd gone to the set on an actual day off, pretty much out of habit, but they'd sent him home, told him he'd need it for a future episode where he had to play two versions of Dean and Jared would only be around for like ten minutes. (On the up side, Jared would have to wear something really hilarious. Awesome.) So he'd gone home and pretty much out of boredom, he'd cleaned the whole downstairs area from top to bottom. Vacuumed and everything. Jared had teased him for like five days straight about what a good little woman he was. He'd flipped Jared off every time, until the time Jared had leaned forward and fucking sucked his middle finger. Who the fuck does that?
Anyway, that had been a couple weeks ago and the living room is back to its usual state of disarray. There's a pile of magazines and newspapers on the coffee table, a plate and a mug from a couple days ago under the coffee table, and, for some reason, a pile of legos next to the coffee table. Jensen doesn't want to know.
The TV is tuned to Judge Judy, and Jensen would be happy to change the channel if he knew where the fucking remote was, but it's not on the coffee table or anywhere else he can see, and Sadie is snoozing on his shins and getting up doesn't seem like it's in the cards.
"Jared!" he yells, pretty sure his voice will carry upstairs. "Where the fuck is the remote?"
"I don't know! Did you look in the freezer?"
"Fuck you!" Jensen yells back. One fucking time, and he had been really, really drunk. It had taken them like two weeks to find the remote, and as soon as they did, Jensen remembered thinking that this would be a hilarious prank to play on Jared. Oh, alcohol - the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.
"Jared!"
"Find the fucking remote yourself!"
"Are you paying me back for the freezer thing? Because I looked and I can't find it anywhere!" He hasn't budged an inch, and is staring at the ceiling. Sadie is still curled up comfortably on his legs.
"For fuck's sake!" Jared's voice is accompanied by a lot of stomping, as he descends the stairs as noisily as possible. Which is actually pretty noisily.
"You are the laziest fucker I know," Jared says, his voice only a few feet away now.
"I am not. I work 14 hour days. It's Saturday. I don't want to do fucking..." his voice trails off because he's finally summoned up the energy to prop himself up and look over the back of the sofa. And Jared is standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of ratty old red soccer shorts. The silky kind. Jensen knows Jared played soccer in high school, but...could those possibly be the same shorts? But there's no way they would fit him now. Would they?
"Dude, are you sitting on the remote?" Jared asks.
"What? No. I'd feel it."
"Not if it's between the cushions." He shoves his hand in the crack between the middle cushion and the back of the sofa, feeling around. Jensen pretty much just watches. The shorts are sagging a little, revealing a thin line of hair that travels up to his bellybutton, and the hard lines of his hips. He reaches out and touches the silky material of the shorts. They're soft and worn from repeated washings.
"I've never seen these before," Jensen tells him.
"Yeah, that's because I never wear them. I need to do laundry and they are literally the only thing in my closet that's clean. Well, it's this or my Armani suit. I didn't even realize I had these anymore."
"Mmmm...I like these better than the Armani." Jensen runs his hand over the silky material, and cups Jared's ass.
"My ratty old soccer shorts are turning you on?," Jared asks, incredulously. "I knew you were strange, but this is really weird."
"Says the twenty-seven-year-old man with a pile of legos in his living room," Jensen murmurs. "Come here."
Jared pretty much collapses over the back of the couch, on top of him. Sadie yelps and squeezes out from the space between her humans' legs.
"Sorry, girl," Jared tells her, sheepishly.
Jared is heavy, but Jensen doesn't mind. The soft shorts hide absolutely nothing and as Jensen continues to stroke the silky fabric, he can feel Jared getting turned on. He pushes himself up, shoves Jared to his knees. Jared leans back against the other end of the sofa, his eyes wide, his breathing heavy, watching Jensen watching him.
He looks...uncomfortable.
"Dude, what the..." Jared reaches behind him, and pulls out, from between the cushion and the arm of the sofa, the remote control.
WITH BONUS ARTS BY dugindeep!!!! PREPARE FOR A BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECE, BBS.
JARED PLAYS WITH HIS LEGOS.
Part 2