Fic: Where You Least Expect It (Jensen/Jared)
Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 4,300
Warnings: AU, underage (no age specified, but somewhere in high school), smoking (is that a warning??), dirty talk, come play, mild D/s tones, Jensen being a very naughty boy.
Notes: Believe it or not, this started out being inspired by these two blindfold fills for a prompt about Jensen only letting Jared smoke cigarettes if he's the one holding them. It took on a life of it's own - IDEK. Also, once upon a time, paper_storm88 told me that I have a bad habit of writing stories that require sequels - I think I did it again *facepalm*
Summary - Jared knows that Jensen Ackles is the Golden Boy reverend's kid who'd never even look Jared's way, let alone let something happen between them. Turns out Jared may be very, very wrong.
Jared knew he was in trouble the day he met the new reverend and his family. Seriously, how did they expect him to go sit in church every week - under duress, he might add; thanks, Mom - and think good thoughts and focus on Jesus and stuff with Jensen freakin’ Ackles sitting two pews up looking like sin itself.
He’s been trying - really, genuinely trying - to not spend his Sunday mornings fantasizing about bending the reverend’s son over the altar and sticking his dick so far up that tight, pert little ass Jensen’ll never be able to sit down again. Thus far the best he’s managed is to not blurt any of those dirt, wicked thoughts out loud - unless moaning something that vaguely resembles Jensen’s name when he jacks off in the shower counts - but he’s starting to wonder how long that can last.
See, for the last couple of weeks, it’s seemed like Jensen’s out to get him or something. He’ll end up standing just a little too close to Jared as the congregation mills around the front lawn after the service, as though he’s pointing out how Jared’s not joining in, or he’ll hand Jared a stack of the donation slips to go stick in each of the prayer books, even though Jared’s not volunteering. Then somehow Jensen managed to bring up how important Wednesday night service is in front of Jared’s mom so now he’s been roped into surrendering his Wednesday nights to staring at Jensen Ackles with futile longing. Wonderful.
The crush is completely stupid, he knows, and he’s tried to talk himself out of it because Jensen? Forget about the idea that he would even consider actually getting with Jared, Jensen wouldn’t even consider that Jared’s considered it. Jensen’s, like, the golden child; honor roll at the magnet school across town, baseball star, drama club king, volunteers at the church and the soup kitchen. Even aside from the fact that he’d probably start bible-thumping and hurling scripture passages at Jared if he ever found out Jared’s gay, he’s pretty sure he heard somebody say that Jensen had taken a chastity pledge. There’s no question in Jared’s mind that his parents would trade him in for Jensen any day of the week.
All of which makes it especially mind-boggling when Jared sneaks out the back door of the church’s gymnasium to escape the horror which embodies the monthly social, to find none other than Jensen Ackles with a cigarette pursed between his plush lips. For a second, Jared just stands there, door sliding closed behind him with a muffled thump as he brain tries and fails to compute the scene before him.
Jensen’s standing a little off to the side, backlit by the motion-sensor lights over the loading dock that clicked on as Jared stepped outside. Turns out Jared had been wrong all this time because he’s spent weeks thinking that Jensen looked like sin in his crisp white shirts and perfectly knotted black ties, every hair in place, but apparently that was just the prelude. Now, with his mint green dress shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, hair finger-tousled and catching the yellow light like a halo, plump, pink lips slack around a curl of smoke that dances like a veil in front of indolently-lidded green eyes, this is better than sin; this is a fallen angel and Jared’s mouth’s so dry even hungrily licking his lips does nothing for the problem.
Jensen smirks, the full-force version of an expression Jared has thought he’s caught shadows of before. He uses the two fingers holding his cigarette to motion Jared in closer and moth to flame, Jared goes, even with the risk of getting burned.
“Hey,” Jensen says, voice deeper and richer than Jared’s ever heard it. He manages to choke out a slightly scattered greeting in response.
Tick, the light clicks off, the two of them out of range of its sensors where they’re standing up against the rough brick of the out-building. There’s still enough illumination coming from the lights in the parking lot for Jared to make Jensen out, but everything’s a little darker now, a world of blue and charcoal and Jensen seems to fit in seamlessly.
Jensen takes another drag, the ember at the end of his cigarette glowing orange and red under the crackle of grey ash. He opens his mouth at the end of the pull, drawing in fresh air along with the smoke and Jared watches, hypnotized by the slow curl of his tongue just grazing his upper lip. Deep green eyes lazily open to catch him staring and Jared jerks his gaze away to the smattering of pebbles under his feet. He’s never been very good with subtle.
“How’s it going in there?” the smaller boy tosses his head in the direction of the gym, smoke pouring out of his mouth around the words.
Jared rubs at the back of his head with him palm, not really sure what to do with himself now that he’s over here. “It’s… fine. You know.”
Jensen gives him a soft chuckle and nods, “It’s boring as fuck.”
Anything else Jared might have had to say gets jammed up in his throat around the surprise, so all that ends up coming out is, “You said fuck!”
“So did you,” Jensen counters, sexed-up parody of a grin splitting his face.
“I- I mean, I didn’t know- I just figured…”
Mercifully, Jensen stops him from fumbling any further by leaning in and whispering mock-earnestly “I do all kinds of things I’m not supposed to.”
Jared really hasn’t got a clue what to do with the hot little twist of want that wriggles through him at that, but he’s pretty sure he likes it anyway.
“Like what?” he prods, but it comes out more like a breathless plea than the challenge he’d had in mind.
Jensen’s eyes crinkle when he grins this time, eyelids still too languid for the amount of intent hiding under them. “Can’t go giving away all my secrets, now can I?” He backs up out of Jared’s space so there are a couple of too-far inches between where their shoulders rasp against the fabric-picking brick. “You gotta earn it, Jolly Green.”
“Ha. Ha,” Jared deadpans. Actually, the cracks about his height don’t bother him nearly as much as they did a couple of years ago, and something about the way Jensen says it makes the joke seem more like an endearment, so most of Jared’s pout is for show.
“You want one?” Jensen asks around another mouthful of smoke, flicking the butt of his cigarette with a thumbnail.
Jared declines casually with a shake of his head, “I’m fine.”
Jensen’s gaze hop-skip-jumps over Jared’s body, taking him in top to bottom and back before he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You ever?”
“No.” It’s stupid to feel awkward about it; he doesn’t want to smoke, so he never has, that makes perfect sense. For some reason it still kind of makes him feel like a little kid to admit it.
Jensen’s hand is on him so suddenly that he jumps, chin catching on the slight clamminess of Jensen’s palm where it presses against him, holding the cigarette up to Jared’s lips.
“Do it,” the shorter boy goads, moving in so that one of his legs stands in the V of Jared’s a bare inch of heated air between their bodies. “Remember what I said about earning it?”
Jared’s laugh sounds slightly nervous to his own ears, but with the way his stomach’s doing the cha-cha, that seems forgivable. He can barely get the words out right around the spit-damp end of the cigarette Jensen’s still proffering when he says, “What, are you a tobacco spokesman or something?”
The rubber-on-pavement scuff of Jensen’s foot seems loud in the quiet ranging between them, the sound of Christian-rock subdued to nothingness in the background. That firm-looking thigh is fractionally closer to Jared’s crotch now, and his dick’s really putting forth the extra effort to span that distance.
“C’mon,” Jensen cajoles, getting right up in Jared’s space so he can feel the other boy’s breath, warm and moist against his cheek, “I’ll tell you about some of those bad things I do.”
There’s more to that offer written in the sparkle of Jensen’s eyes, in the slow, deliberate way he runs his tongue across his lips. Jared swallows audibly - more than once if he’s being honest - and closes his own mouth around the end of the cigarette, the air-cooled saliva there a momentary shock to his system, and tentatively draws in a drag.
The taste is bitter, acrid, and burns all the way down into his lungs. He’s smoked pot before, and this isn’t as hard as that, so he just holds onto for a moment or two, basking in the way Jensen’s attention flutters over his expression only to slide back down to his lips and linger there like a hunter awaiting its prey. Slowly he lets it out; nothing fancy, just a long stream of tainted air disappearing into the night. Jensen licks his lips again, only this time it doesn’t seem like it was on purpose.
“Well?” Jared asks after a minute of Jensen staring mutely at his mouth. The question seems to snap the other boy out of whatever trance he was in, all smirks and promising eyes once again.
“Well, let’s see. I smoke,” Jensen muses, grin widening at Jared’s non-plussed glare, “And drink. And I drive too fast and stay out too late.” As he enumerates, Jensen seems to close in, the hand on Jared’s chin sliding away to brace on the wall next to his head, while his free hand plucks idly at the place where Jared’s shirt is tucked into his dark slacks. For a second Jensen hesitates, eyes darting up to catch on Jared’s and just hold there defiantly, “And I kiss pretty boys. Sometimes more than kiss.”
His lips are right there, a hair’s breadth away from brushing Jared’s and maybe he never thought it was an option before, but now that it’s on the table he wants it so bad he can barely breathe through it. It takes practically nothing to lean forward that extra bit and feel the velvet softness of Jensen’s lips for a split second before it smaller boy is darting back half a step, devious smile splitting his face.
“You wanna kiss me, Jared?” he tempts, holding his mouth just out of reach when Jared leans forward instinctually again.
The answer seems pretty obvious, but Jared mutters, “Yeah,” anyway, with only a little edge to it.
“You thought about it before?” Jensen closes the space between them tauntingly again; just close enough to tease at Jared’s lips when he talks, “In church, while my daddy’s up there talking about fags going to hell?”
“Yeah.” Jared’s too distracted for anything more coherent than that. He feels like there’s a fire smoldering in his chest, aching to burn free, but instead of oxygen, this flame needs Jensen’s mouth, and it needs it right the hell now.
“Thought so,” Jensen murmurs, nodding just enough to have Jared following the movement like a dog begging for scraps, “I thought about it too. You ever?”
Far too long later, Jared figures out that Jensen means the kissing. “Kissed girls,” he shrugs, because admittedly, it barely counts if you spend the whole make out session thinking about the school quarterback.
Jensen hums his understanding, still maddeningly close to and far from Jared’s lips. “And what about this, huh?” Jared’s brain shorts out as Jensen flicks away the cigarette and reaches down to cup the hard line of Jared’s dick through his pants, “You fuck girls too?”
“B-b-blow jobs,” Jared stutters, barely managing to gasp in enough air around the yesfuckpleasegood of Jensen’s big, strong hand on him and the spine-melting things he’s doing with his nimble fingers at the head.
“Yeah? It’s better with guys, you know. They got a handle on the equipment,” Jensen squeezes him just right, one rough fingernail scraping over the slit with all the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. “Whole different animal.”
Jared croaks out a very eloquent,“Guh.” At least he succeeds in keeping his gelatinized knees from giving out and ruining the moment.
The shorter boy huffs a laugh, the taste of nicotine and Jensen washing into Jared’s mouth on the breath. “Look at you. So ready to give it up for me, aren’t you? I could make you come right now; make a mess of yourself and send you back in there to play nice with all the good boys and girls with a big, wet load of come in your shorts, sticking to your skin, marking you up. All for me.”
His thumb and index finger bracket the head, tightening just enough to make Jared throb and hiss with pleasure, followed up with a hard stroke from the heel of Jensen’s palm. It’s so fucking good Jared’s going to lose his mind; the only thing left swimming around upstairs anyway is the dirty-hot image Jensen’s painted with molasses-sweet words and his gravel-and-silk voice. Even as the thought makes embarrassment and fear well up in him, the want lights it on fire, searing through him like a drug until he’s scared stiff of it and wants it so bad he’d beg. It’s like nothing Jared’s ever felt before.
“Oughta make you, just to watch you squirm all pretty,” Jensen whispers, dragging his lips across Jared’s cheek all the way up to the shell of his ear as his hand continues it’s relentless, not-quite-enough assault on Jared’s cock, “But I’m a nice guy, Jay, so I’ll give you a choice, ok? Mine or yours?”
“W-what?” Jared stutters, mind overtaken by the tickle of Jensen’s breath worming into his ear, “Jensen, please.”
“Shh,” Jensen shushes him like he would a fussy baby, nuzzling at the curls of hair that fall around Jared’s sideburns, “Mine or yours, Jared? Whose come do you wanna be wearing under your clothes when you ride home with mommy and daddy? ‘Cause if it’s yours, then I’mma let you kiss me, just like you wanted; get my lips all swollen and slicked up for you, mark me up you if you wanna.”
Jensen cages his fingers around Jared’s cock, nails digging in and dragging upward just hard enough, just slow enough, that Jared is absolutely positive that he’s going to cry like a bitch before this ends.
“If it’s mine, though,” Jensen continues steadily, as if Jared’s not writhing and thrashing and fucking dying in his grip, “then you don’t get to kiss me, but I’ll give you one of those ‘b-b-blow jobs’ we were talking about. Let you spread my mouth wide and fuck my throat until you shake apart from how tight and wet it is. And all you gotta do is let me come on your balls after. So whadda ya say, Jay? Mine or yours?”
“Hu- ah- geh-“ Jared can’t even remember words, grasping blindly for anything, everything, that Jensen’s just promised, “Yours, yours.”
Hot and slick, Jensen’s tongue laps a long stripe over the furl of Jared’s ear, kissing daintily at the lobe once he’s done. “Good choice.”
Jensen folds to his knees like it’s what he was made for, fingers deftly undoing Jared’s pants and letting them sag low on his hips. He wastes no time tugging Jared’s boxers down too, and some distant, cognizant part of his starts screaming that he’s exposing himself in freaking public where anybody could walk out and catch them.
“Somebody could see,” he pants out, though it’s kind of a mixed message with the way his hand has molded itself around the back off Jensen’s head, dragging him in closer until those supple, bee-stung lips are pouted around the very tip of his cock. Jesus, he feels like he’s going to have a stroke from how awesome this is.
Jensen smirks up at him - how the hell can he smirk with just his eyes? - and pulls back enough to rasp his tongue over the slit and say “I know.”
There are a number of really good arguments to that and not a one of them has a hope of surviving in the hollow cavern that is Jared’s head, because Jensen’s swallowing down his cock with loud, obscene sucks and nobody in their right mind would argue with that. Nobody in their wrong mind, for that matter.
Jensen starts at the head, teasing suckles, sliding further and further down as his tongue scouts out the territory and gets everything wet and slippery. Yeah, he’s definitely done this before. Like, at least twice. God!
The flat of his tongue is massaging the underside of Jared’s cock, the tip swirling and flicking at whatever it can reach as Jensen rapidly approaches the base. Jared’s really only done this a couple of times - a vain attempt at convincing his body that girls would be just as good as guys - and neither of those girls ever managed to get Jared more than halfway in. He’s a big guy, proportional and all that, but Jensen’s going to town like it’ll get him an Olympic medal or something, the head steadily popping into a tighter trap of heat that absolutely has to be Jensen’s throat.
Jared’s clawing at the wall behind him in a pointless effort to keep from pawing at Jensen’s head, his own skull lolling against the wall, hair pulling as the strands catch on rough brick. Then Jensen negates the whole idea by grabbing one of Jared’s hands and putting back on his head, arching into it like a cat until Jared gets the message and gingerly pushes Jensen further onto his length. The shorter boy moans around his mouthful, the vibrations shivering up Jared’s spine, back down, up again on a seemingly endless run that leaves him no control to try and stop himself from thrusting into Jensen’s suction.
It’s perfect and good and right and Jensen seems to be having an ok time too if the way he keeps groaning and humping his hips into empty air is anything to go by. It’s going to be over really fucking fast.
Jensen pulls back just enough that his lips stretch that extra little bit around the head, hint of pink tongue wiggling at the spot underneath it, and draws in a deep breath. He lets it out in a rush, plunging down as he does, only he doesn’t stop where Jared expects him to, in fact, he doesn’t fucking stop. Those shiny, blood-dark lips skim all the way down Jared’s length until they’re obscured by the dark nest of curls at his root. It’s over then, right fucking then, but in that one millisecond of hangtime between knowing he’s done and getting swept away in the bliss, Jensen looks up, jade eyes bright and shining and so damn unguarded, before it all fades to black.
Jared shakes his way through it, trembling and only barely keeping his feet as Jensen hauls himself back to let the come pool on his tongue, the buildup of it hot and smooth around Jared, only compounding the sensation. Finally, when he’s certain that every ounce of his being has to have shot out the end of his dick, Jensen lets go, Jared slumping back against the wall without the other boy’s hands on his hips for support.
Dimly he hears Jensen spit onto the pavement - can’t really be offended at the moment, he didn’t exactly give the guy a warning - before the shorter boy is suddenly in his face again, body pressing in tight to Jared’s.
Somewhere in there, Jensen obviously got his pants open; the stiffness of his cock now prodding at Jared’s sac as Jensen ruthlessly jerks himself off. He mouths along Jared’s neck, not so much kissing as just hauling his mouth over the curve of it, chanting half-formed filth into Jared’s skin.
The air catches on the wetness painting from the head of Jensen’s dick, the cool of it tingling against Jared’s balls. All he can think about is what Jensen had proposed, what he’d agreed to. How any minute now that hot, thick load is going to spatter onto his skin; dripping, clinging evidence that this was more than just some f’ed up fantasy. How he’s going to have to pull himself back together, his underwear sticking to his skin as he walks back into that gym and smiles at his parents, their friends, Jensen’s parents. How it’s going to get all tacky and start to dry so that by the time he gets home to a shower he’ll have to peel those boxers off real slow. How he’s inevitably going to jack off again into them playing all of this back in his head.
Jensen lets loose a high, choked sound almost like a sob, free hand clutching at Jared’s chest as smooth, sticky heat blurts out over his sac, around the base of his feebly twitching cock. Jared can’t swallow a groan at the feel of it, lazy warmth coiling low in his belly, so he just smothers the noise with Jensen’s lips, still so hot and swollen, tasting powerfully of Jared’s come. Jensen’s too out of it to do more than let his mouth be used, a couple of final spurts adding to the mess between Jared’s legs before he collapses heavily against Jared and, in turn, the wall.
A minute or two later - after Jensen mouth has begun to slowly work itself against Jared’s, tongues curling together in the heated space between - Jensen slowly lists backward, looking up at Jared with sleepy, sated eyes.
“Told you you couldn’t kiss me,” he all but purrs, keeping himself lax and close.
“Yeah, I’m really bad at following instructions,” Jared responds, lifting one shoulder in about as much of a shrug as he can manage at the moment.
Jensen dips back in for another slow, lazy kiss that ends up turning into a couple dozen. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Reluctantly, Jared relinquishes his hold as the other boy pulls away.
Things get a little awkward as they both get themselves back together; the mess on Jared’s groin already cooling and kind of gross, but there’s not much he can do about it now. Besides, the way Jensen’s eyes nail him to the wall as the pulls his pants up, all sweltering intensity - that’s totally worth the slight discomfort.
“You got a phone?” Jensen asks as he buttons his shirt all the way up to the top. It looks kind of like it’s strangling him, but Jensen doesn’t seem to notice. Mostly Jared just gets hung up on how he could leave a hickey there and nobody’d ever know. He doesn’t remember Jensen asked a question until the other boy snaps his fingers in front of Jared’s face and glares.
“Phone, do you have one?” Jensen helpfully reminds him. The best answer Jared can come up with is fumbling his cell out of his pocket. Jensen snatches it up immediately, the blue glow throwing the flowing lines of his bone-structure into haunting relief as he taps out something.
When he hands it back over, the contacts menu is still open to a new entry: Jensen Ackles.
Jared really hopes his grin isn’t quite as goofy as it feels, but with his luck, it probably is. Jensen rolls his eyes, but the smile he gives back is a little less smoky a little more regular joe. Weirdly, Jared finds he likes it better.
“So, I can call you?” he wonders aloud, tucking the phone safely back into his pocket. Jensen steps out of their little hiding spot, the light clicking back on as it detects his presence. He slows up just enough to wait for Jared as he double checks that there’s nothing showing through his slacks to give them away.
“Yeah, you can call me,” Jensen says, hand going up to the back of his neck and immediately shooting back down to his side like he caught himself. Jared used to do the same thing when he was trying to quite biting his nails.
Jared’s honestly stupid enough to believe that’s it, but if tonight’s taught him anything about the guy reaching for the gym door beside him, it’s to expect the unexpected.
“And you’re gonna,” Jensen whispers against Jared’s ear again, his cock jerking through the sludgy wetness surrounding it, apparently already hardwired to respond to that tone in Jensen’s voice. The shorter boy taps Jared’s phone through his pocket for emphasis, “Tonight, when you’re in bed. You’re gonna tell me all about how it feels to walk around with me all over you, every dirty little thought you have, and maybe if you do real good, I’ll let you wash it of before you go to sleep.”
Jared’s mouth opens to say… something, he really doesn’t know what, but then Jensen’s tugging the door open and the sounds of the social flood out into the night. Jensen fixes him with a look that’s one part stern, another part taunting as he slips effortlessly into the crowd, all-American smiles every which way and Jared’s got no choice but to follow and hope that nobody notices his wince as his dick tries painfully to fill back out.
He can’t help but grin privately, watching Jensen make the rounds, no one the wiser. Occasionally he can feel green eyes tracking him from across the room, once or twice meeting his own through the dimness.
It’s going to be a long night.
Sequel: Pushy Is A Virtue
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 4,300
Warnings: AU, underage (no age specified, but somewhere in high school), smoking (is that a warning??), dirty talk, come play, mild D/s tones, Jensen being a very naughty boy.
Notes: Believe it or not, this started out being inspired by these two blindfold fills for a prompt about Jensen only letting Jared smoke cigarettes if he's the one holding them. It took on a life of it's own - IDEK. Also, once upon a time, paper_storm88 told me that I have a bad habit of writing stories that require sequels - I think I did it again *facepalm*
Summary - Jared knows that Jensen Ackles is the Golden Boy reverend's kid who'd never even look Jared's way, let alone let something happen between them. Turns out Jared may be very, very wrong.
Jared knew he was in trouble the day he met the new reverend and his family. Seriously, how did they expect him to go sit in church every week - under duress, he might add; thanks, Mom - and think good thoughts and focus on Jesus and stuff with Jensen freakin’ Ackles sitting two pews up looking like sin itself.
He’s been trying - really, genuinely trying - to not spend his Sunday mornings fantasizing about bending the reverend’s son over the altar and sticking his dick so far up that tight, pert little ass Jensen’ll never be able to sit down again. Thus far the best he’s managed is to not blurt any of those dirt, wicked thoughts out loud - unless moaning something that vaguely resembles Jensen’s name when he jacks off in the shower counts - but he’s starting to wonder how long that can last.
See, for the last couple of weeks, it’s seemed like Jensen’s out to get him or something. He’ll end up standing just a little too close to Jared as the congregation mills around the front lawn after the service, as though he’s pointing out how Jared’s not joining in, or he’ll hand Jared a stack of the donation slips to go stick in each of the prayer books, even though Jared’s not volunteering. Then somehow Jensen managed to bring up how important Wednesday night service is in front of Jared’s mom so now he’s been roped into surrendering his Wednesday nights to staring at Jensen Ackles with futile longing. Wonderful.
The crush is completely stupid, he knows, and he’s tried to talk himself out of it because Jensen? Forget about the idea that he would even consider actually getting with Jared, Jensen wouldn’t even consider that Jared’s considered it. Jensen’s, like, the golden child; honor roll at the magnet school across town, baseball star, drama club king, volunteers at the church and the soup kitchen. Even aside from the fact that he’d probably start bible-thumping and hurling scripture passages at Jared if he ever found out Jared’s gay, he’s pretty sure he heard somebody say that Jensen had taken a chastity pledge. There’s no question in Jared’s mind that his parents would trade him in for Jensen any day of the week.
All of which makes it especially mind-boggling when Jared sneaks out the back door of the church’s gymnasium to escape the horror which embodies the monthly social, to find none other than Jensen Ackles with a cigarette pursed between his plush lips. For a second, Jared just stands there, door sliding closed behind him with a muffled thump as he brain tries and fails to compute the scene before him.
Jensen’s standing a little off to the side, backlit by the motion-sensor lights over the loading dock that clicked on as Jared stepped outside. Turns out Jared had been wrong all this time because he’s spent weeks thinking that Jensen looked like sin in his crisp white shirts and perfectly knotted black ties, every hair in place, but apparently that was just the prelude. Now, with his mint green dress shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, hair finger-tousled and catching the yellow light like a halo, plump, pink lips slack around a curl of smoke that dances like a veil in front of indolently-lidded green eyes, this is better than sin; this is a fallen angel and Jared’s mouth’s so dry even hungrily licking his lips does nothing for the problem.
Jensen smirks, the full-force version of an expression Jared has thought he’s caught shadows of before. He uses the two fingers holding his cigarette to motion Jared in closer and moth to flame, Jared goes, even with the risk of getting burned.
“Hey,” Jensen says, voice deeper and richer than Jared’s ever heard it. He manages to choke out a slightly scattered greeting in response.
Tick, the light clicks off, the two of them out of range of its sensors where they’re standing up against the rough brick of the out-building. There’s still enough illumination coming from the lights in the parking lot for Jared to make Jensen out, but everything’s a little darker now, a world of blue and charcoal and Jensen seems to fit in seamlessly.
Jensen takes another drag, the ember at the end of his cigarette glowing orange and red under the crackle of grey ash. He opens his mouth at the end of the pull, drawing in fresh air along with the smoke and Jared watches, hypnotized by the slow curl of his tongue just grazing his upper lip. Deep green eyes lazily open to catch him staring and Jared jerks his gaze away to the smattering of pebbles under his feet. He’s never been very good with subtle.
“How’s it going in there?” the smaller boy tosses his head in the direction of the gym, smoke pouring out of his mouth around the words.
Jared rubs at the back of his head with him palm, not really sure what to do with himself now that he’s over here. “It’s… fine. You know.”
Jensen gives him a soft chuckle and nods, “It’s boring as fuck.”
Anything else Jared might have had to say gets jammed up in his throat around the surprise, so all that ends up coming out is, “You said fuck!”
“So did you,” Jensen counters, sexed-up parody of a grin splitting his face.
“I- I mean, I didn’t know- I just figured…”
Mercifully, Jensen stops him from fumbling any further by leaning in and whispering mock-earnestly “I do all kinds of things I’m not supposed to.”
Jared really hasn’t got a clue what to do with the hot little twist of want that wriggles through him at that, but he’s pretty sure he likes it anyway.
“Like what?” he prods, but it comes out more like a breathless plea than the challenge he’d had in mind.
Jensen’s eyes crinkle when he grins this time, eyelids still too languid for the amount of intent hiding under them. “Can’t go giving away all my secrets, now can I?” He backs up out of Jared’s space so there are a couple of too-far inches between where their shoulders rasp against the fabric-picking brick. “You gotta earn it, Jolly Green.”
“Ha. Ha,” Jared deadpans. Actually, the cracks about his height don’t bother him nearly as much as they did a couple of years ago, and something about the way Jensen says it makes the joke seem more like an endearment, so most of Jared’s pout is for show.
“You want one?” Jensen asks around another mouthful of smoke, flicking the butt of his cigarette with a thumbnail.
Jared declines casually with a shake of his head, “I’m fine.”
Jensen’s gaze hop-skip-jumps over Jared’s body, taking him in top to bottom and back before he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You ever?”
“No.” It’s stupid to feel awkward about it; he doesn’t want to smoke, so he never has, that makes perfect sense. For some reason it still kind of makes him feel like a little kid to admit it.
Jensen’s hand is on him so suddenly that he jumps, chin catching on the slight clamminess of Jensen’s palm where it presses against him, holding the cigarette up to Jared’s lips.
“Do it,” the shorter boy goads, moving in so that one of his legs stands in the V of Jared’s a bare inch of heated air between their bodies. “Remember what I said about earning it?”
Jared’s laugh sounds slightly nervous to his own ears, but with the way his stomach’s doing the cha-cha, that seems forgivable. He can barely get the words out right around the spit-damp end of the cigarette Jensen’s still proffering when he says, “What, are you a tobacco spokesman or something?”
The rubber-on-pavement scuff of Jensen’s foot seems loud in the quiet ranging between them, the sound of Christian-rock subdued to nothingness in the background. That firm-looking thigh is fractionally closer to Jared’s crotch now, and his dick’s really putting forth the extra effort to span that distance.
“C’mon,” Jensen cajoles, getting right up in Jared’s space so he can feel the other boy’s breath, warm and moist against his cheek, “I’ll tell you about some of those bad things I do.”
There’s more to that offer written in the sparkle of Jensen’s eyes, in the slow, deliberate way he runs his tongue across his lips. Jared swallows audibly - more than once if he’s being honest - and closes his own mouth around the end of the cigarette, the air-cooled saliva there a momentary shock to his system, and tentatively draws in a drag.
The taste is bitter, acrid, and burns all the way down into his lungs. He’s smoked pot before, and this isn’t as hard as that, so he just holds onto for a moment or two, basking in the way Jensen’s attention flutters over his expression only to slide back down to his lips and linger there like a hunter awaiting its prey. Slowly he lets it out; nothing fancy, just a long stream of tainted air disappearing into the night. Jensen licks his lips again, only this time it doesn’t seem like it was on purpose.
“Well?” Jared asks after a minute of Jensen staring mutely at his mouth. The question seems to snap the other boy out of whatever trance he was in, all smirks and promising eyes once again.
“Well, let’s see. I smoke,” Jensen muses, grin widening at Jared’s non-plussed glare, “And drink. And I drive too fast and stay out too late.” As he enumerates, Jensen seems to close in, the hand on Jared’s chin sliding away to brace on the wall next to his head, while his free hand plucks idly at the place where Jared’s shirt is tucked into his dark slacks. For a second Jensen hesitates, eyes darting up to catch on Jared’s and just hold there defiantly, “And I kiss pretty boys. Sometimes more than kiss.”
His lips are right there, a hair’s breadth away from brushing Jared’s and maybe he never thought it was an option before, but now that it’s on the table he wants it so bad he can barely breathe through it. It takes practically nothing to lean forward that extra bit and feel the velvet softness of Jensen’s lips for a split second before it smaller boy is darting back half a step, devious smile splitting his face.
“You wanna kiss me, Jared?” he tempts, holding his mouth just out of reach when Jared leans forward instinctually again.
The answer seems pretty obvious, but Jared mutters, “Yeah,” anyway, with only a little edge to it.
“You thought about it before?” Jensen closes the space between them tauntingly again; just close enough to tease at Jared’s lips when he talks, “In church, while my daddy’s up there talking about fags going to hell?”
“Yeah.” Jared’s too distracted for anything more coherent than that. He feels like there’s a fire smoldering in his chest, aching to burn free, but instead of oxygen, this flame needs Jensen’s mouth, and it needs it right the hell now.
“Thought so,” Jensen murmurs, nodding just enough to have Jared following the movement like a dog begging for scraps, “I thought about it too. You ever?”
Far too long later, Jared figures out that Jensen means the kissing. “Kissed girls,” he shrugs, because admittedly, it barely counts if you spend the whole make out session thinking about the school quarterback.
Jensen hums his understanding, still maddeningly close to and far from Jared’s lips. “And what about this, huh?” Jared’s brain shorts out as Jensen flicks away the cigarette and reaches down to cup the hard line of Jared’s dick through his pants, “You fuck girls too?”
“B-b-blow jobs,” Jared stutters, barely managing to gasp in enough air around the yesfuckpleasegood of Jensen’s big, strong hand on him and the spine-melting things he’s doing with his nimble fingers at the head.
“Yeah? It’s better with guys, you know. They got a handle on the equipment,” Jensen squeezes him just right, one rough fingernail scraping over the slit with all the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. “Whole different animal.”
Jared croaks out a very eloquent,“Guh.” At least he succeeds in keeping his gelatinized knees from giving out and ruining the moment.
The shorter boy huffs a laugh, the taste of nicotine and Jensen washing into Jared’s mouth on the breath. “Look at you. So ready to give it up for me, aren’t you? I could make you come right now; make a mess of yourself and send you back in there to play nice with all the good boys and girls with a big, wet load of come in your shorts, sticking to your skin, marking you up. All for me.”
His thumb and index finger bracket the head, tightening just enough to make Jared throb and hiss with pleasure, followed up with a hard stroke from the heel of Jensen’s palm. It’s so fucking good Jared’s going to lose his mind; the only thing left swimming around upstairs anyway is the dirty-hot image Jensen’s painted with molasses-sweet words and his gravel-and-silk voice. Even as the thought makes embarrassment and fear well up in him, the want lights it on fire, searing through him like a drug until he’s scared stiff of it and wants it so bad he’d beg. It’s like nothing Jared’s ever felt before.
“Oughta make you, just to watch you squirm all pretty,” Jensen whispers, dragging his lips across Jared’s cheek all the way up to the shell of his ear as his hand continues it’s relentless, not-quite-enough assault on Jared’s cock, “But I’m a nice guy, Jay, so I’ll give you a choice, ok? Mine or yours?”
“W-what?” Jared stutters, mind overtaken by the tickle of Jensen’s breath worming into his ear, “Jensen, please.”
“Shh,” Jensen shushes him like he would a fussy baby, nuzzling at the curls of hair that fall around Jared’s sideburns, “Mine or yours, Jared? Whose come do you wanna be wearing under your clothes when you ride home with mommy and daddy? ‘Cause if it’s yours, then I’mma let you kiss me, just like you wanted; get my lips all swollen and slicked up for you, mark me up you if you wanna.”
Jensen cages his fingers around Jared’s cock, nails digging in and dragging upward just hard enough, just slow enough, that Jared is absolutely positive that he’s going to cry like a bitch before this ends.
“If it’s mine, though,” Jensen continues steadily, as if Jared’s not writhing and thrashing and fucking dying in his grip, “then you don’t get to kiss me, but I’ll give you one of those ‘b-b-blow jobs’ we were talking about. Let you spread my mouth wide and fuck my throat until you shake apart from how tight and wet it is. And all you gotta do is let me come on your balls after. So whadda ya say, Jay? Mine or yours?”
“Hu- ah- geh-“ Jared can’t even remember words, grasping blindly for anything, everything, that Jensen’s just promised, “Yours, yours.”
Hot and slick, Jensen’s tongue laps a long stripe over the furl of Jared’s ear, kissing daintily at the lobe once he’s done. “Good choice.”
Jensen folds to his knees like it’s what he was made for, fingers deftly undoing Jared’s pants and letting them sag low on his hips. He wastes no time tugging Jared’s boxers down too, and some distant, cognizant part of his starts screaming that he’s exposing himself in freaking public where anybody could walk out and catch them.
“Somebody could see,” he pants out, though it’s kind of a mixed message with the way his hand has molded itself around the back off Jensen’s head, dragging him in closer until those supple, bee-stung lips are pouted around the very tip of his cock. Jesus, he feels like he’s going to have a stroke from how awesome this is.
Jensen smirks up at him - how the hell can he smirk with just his eyes? - and pulls back enough to rasp his tongue over the slit and say “I know.”
There are a number of really good arguments to that and not a one of them has a hope of surviving in the hollow cavern that is Jared’s head, because Jensen’s swallowing down his cock with loud, obscene sucks and nobody in their right mind would argue with that. Nobody in their wrong mind, for that matter.
Jensen starts at the head, teasing suckles, sliding further and further down as his tongue scouts out the territory and gets everything wet and slippery. Yeah, he’s definitely done this before. Like, at least twice. God!
The flat of his tongue is massaging the underside of Jared’s cock, the tip swirling and flicking at whatever it can reach as Jensen rapidly approaches the base. Jared’s really only done this a couple of times - a vain attempt at convincing his body that girls would be just as good as guys - and neither of those girls ever managed to get Jared more than halfway in. He’s a big guy, proportional and all that, but Jensen’s going to town like it’ll get him an Olympic medal or something, the head steadily popping into a tighter trap of heat that absolutely has to be Jensen’s throat.
Jared’s clawing at the wall behind him in a pointless effort to keep from pawing at Jensen’s head, his own skull lolling against the wall, hair pulling as the strands catch on rough brick. Then Jensen negates the whole idea by grabbing one of Jared’s hands and putting back on his head, arching into it like a cat until Jared gets the message and gingerly pushes Jensen further onto his length. The shorter boy moans around his mouthful, the vibrations shivering up Jared’s spine, back down, up again on a seemingly endless run that leaves him no control to try and stop himself from thrusting into Jensen’s suction.
It’s perfect and good and right and Jensen seems to be having an ok time too if the way he keeps groaning and humping his hips into empty air is anything to go by. It’s going to be over really fucking fast.
Jensen pulls back just enough that his lips stretch that extra little bit around the head, hint of pink tongue wiggling at the spot underneath it, and draws in a deep breath. He lets it out in a rush, plunging down as he does, only he doesn’t stop where Jared expects him to, in fact, he doesn’t fucking stop. Those shiny, blood-dark lips skim all the way down Jared’s length until they’re obscured by the dark nest of curls at his root. It’s over then, right fucking then, but in that one millisecond of hangtime between knowing he’s done and getting swept away in the bliss, Jensen looks up, jade eyes bright and shining and so damn unguarded, before it all fades to black.
Jared shakes his way through it, trembling and only barely keeping his feet as Jensen hauls himself back to let the come pool on his tongue, the buildup of it hot and smooth around Jared, only compounding the sensation. Finally, when he’s certain that every ounce of his being has to have shot out the end of his dick, Jensen lets go, Jared slumping back against the wall without the other boy’s hands on his hips for support.
Dimly he hears Jensen spit onto the pavement - can’t really be offended at the moment, he didn’t exactly give the guy a warning - before the shorter boy is suddenly in his face again, body pressing in tight to Jared’s.
Somewhere in there, Jensen obviously got his pants open; the stiffness of his cock now prodding at Jared’s sac as Jensen ruthlessly jerks himself off. He mouths along Jared’s neck, not so much kissing as just hauling his mouth over the curve of it, chanting half-formed filth into Jared’s skin.
The air catches on the wetness painting from the head of Jensen’s dick, the cool of it tingling against Jared’s balls. All he can think about is what Jensen had proposed, what he’d agreed to. How any minute now that hot, thick load is going to spatter onto his skin; dripping, clinging evidence that this was more than just some f’ed up fantasy. How he’s going to have to pull himself back together, his underwear sticking to his skin as he walks back into that gym and smiles at his parents, their friends, Jensen’s parents. How it’s going to get all tacky and start to dry so that by the time he gets home to a shower he’ll have to peel those boxers off real slow. How he’s inevitably going to jack off again into them playing all of this back in his head.
Jensen lets loose a high, choked sound almost like a sob, free hand clutching at Jared’s chest as smooth, sticky heat blurts out over his sac, around the base of his feebly twitching cock. Jared can’t swallow a groan at the feel of it, lazy warmth coiling low in his belly, so he just smothers the noise with Jensen’s lips, still so hot and swollen, tasting powerfully of Jared’s come. Jensen’s too out of it to do more than let his mouth be used, a couple of final spurts adding to the mess between Jared’s legs before he collapses heavily against Jared and, in turn, the wall.
A minute or two later - after Jensen mouth has begun to slowly work itself against Jared’s, tongues curling together in the heated space between - Jensen slowly lists backward, looking up at Jared with sleepy, sated eyes.
“Told you you couldn’t kiss me,” he all but purrs, keeping himself lax and close.
“Yeah, I’m really bad at following instructions,” Jared responds, lifting one shoulder in about as much of a shrug as he can manage at the moment.
Jensen dips back in for another slow, lazy kiss that ends up turning into a couple dozen. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Reluctantly, Jared relinquishes his hold as the other boy pulls away.
Things get a little awkward as they both get themselves back together; the mess on Jared’s groin already cooling and kind of gross, but there’s not much he can do about it now. Besides, the way Jensen’s eyes nail him to the wall as the pulls his pants up, all sweltering intensity - that’s totally worth the slight discomfort.
“You got a phone?” Jensen asks as he buttons his shirt all the way up to the top. It looks kind of like it’s strangling him, but Jensen doesn’t seem to notice. Mostly Jared just gets hung up on how he could leave a hickey there and nobody’d ever know. He doesn’t remember Jensen asked a question until the other boy snaps his fingers in front of Jared’s face and glares.
“Phone, do you have one?” Jensen helpfully reminds him. The best answer Jared can come up with is fumbling his cell out of his pocket. Jensen snatches it up immediately, the blue glow throwing the flowing lines of his bone-structure into haunting relief as he taps out something.
When he hands it back over, the contacts menu is still open to a new entry: Jensen Ackles.
Jared really hopes his grin isn’t quite as goofy as it feels, but with his luck, it probably is. Jensen rolls his eyes, but the smile he gives back is a little less smoky a little more regular joe. Weirdly, Jared finds he likes it better.
“So, I can call you?” he wonders aloud, tucking the phone safely back into his pocket. Jensen steps out of their little hiding spot, the light clicking back on as it detects his presence. He slows up just enough to wait for Jared as he double checks that there’s nothing showing through his slacks to give them away.
“Yeah, you can call me,” Jensen says, hand going up to the back of his neck and immediately shooting back down to his side like he caught himself. Jared used to do the same thing when he was trying to quite biting his nails.
Jared’s honestly stupid enough to believe that’s it, but if tonight’s taught him anything about the guy reaching for the gym door beside him, it’s to expect the unexpected.
“And you’re gonna,” Jensen whispers against Jared’s ear again, his cock jerking through the sludgy wetness surrounding it, apparently already hardwired to respond to that tone in Jensen’s voice. The shorter boy taps Jared’s phone through his pocket for emphasis, “Tonight, when you’re in bed. You’re gonna tell me all about how it feels to walk around with me all over you, every dirty little thought you have, and maybe if you do real good, I’ll let you wash it of before you go to sleep.”
Jared’s mouth opens to say… something, he really doesn’t know what, but then Jensen’s tugging the door open and the sounds of the social flood out into the night. Jensen fixes him with a look that’s one part stern, another part taunting as he slips effortlessly into the crowd, all-American smiles every which way and Jared’s got no choice but to follow and hope that nobody notices his wince as his dick tries painfully to fill back out.
He can’t help but grin privately, watching Jensen make the rounds, no one the wiser. Occasionally he can feel green eyes tracking him from across the room, once or twice meeting his own through the dimness.
It’s going to be a long night.
Sequel: Pushy Is A Virtue