i speak no latin.
title: Verum dispeream nisi amo
word count: 2690
rating: NC-17; for language and sexual content. jared/jensen.
disclaimer: Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki own each other themselves. If they were mine, I would've died happy.
a/n: for
j2_otpathon with prompts jensen/jared; behind bleachers on football field of jensen's old high school; latin. love and huge paws to
paz_ for audiencing and handholding and squeeing. feedbacks would be awesome. and fairly inspiring. :D
summary: there's jensen, there's jared, there's jensen's old high school, there's latin and then there's porn. :)
Verum dispeream nisi amo
Jensen feels really silly now. Like, if he were a girl (and no matter what they scrawled on the bathroom walls of his old high school, he is not a fucking girl!), this would be how it feels like on the night of his (her?) first prom. He has one sneakered foot on top of the other, twisting in his momma’s fancy living room carpet - a childhood habit he hasn’t yet gotten over - and his hands are numbing under his own weight where he sits on them to keep from fidgeting. Sweats are pooling in the deep groove of his spine against his thin t-shirt and the couch. His family is eerily quiet. Okay, it is just his parents but why haven’t they say a fucking word? Right then, all he could think of is ohmygodtheyknowtheyknowtheyknow and he wipes the beads of sweat against his temple with his wrist.
“Do you want some more iced tea, sweetie? You look parched,” his momma asks, setting down the book she is reading on the coffee table separating them.
The doorbell rings before Jensen could think of an answer and he jumps up like his ass is torched. At least this time the kid only rang twice. If it were Jensen’s apartment in Vancouver or L.A., the door hinges would be half ripped off by now. That Sasquatch. My Sasquatch - Jensen reminds himself as he reaches for the door knob with slightly trembling hand.
“Afternoon,” Jared greets, blinding white grin and accent turned on full blast.
Jensen grins back, fingers aching to grab the front of Jared’s t-shirt, yank the guy against him and stick his tongue into that sinful mouth. He - They settle for a huge, full-body hug, the kind they've perfected over the course of knowing each other. Jared lets out a guffaw and the sound of it undoes every tiny knots Jensen had been feeling inside for the past couple of weeks.
“Hey,” Jensen whispers, voice scratchy and strained.
Jared passes him his tiny little smile, jade green eyes twinkling. “Hey,” he whispers back.
An hour in and Jared is already calling Jensen’s dad Alan. He would’ve call Jensen’s mom Donna, too, if his momma wouldn’t smack him on the head if she (and she will) finds out. Dinner is a lot livelier than usual, even without Jensen’s little nephews and nieces around. Jared is his usual self, talking about everything under the sun and making jokes that might not be so appropriate but Jensen’s parents laugh at nonetheless (Jared has this effect on people) and laughing whenever he feels like it and as loud as he wants to. Jensen has to grip the thigh of his jeans to keep from doing something about the long leg pressed against his own and Jared smelling like the peak of spring and citrus (girly shampoo) and aftershave and Jared.
“Jared,” Jensen’s mom says as she clears the table for dessert, “you’ll be sleeping in the guest room next to ours. Now, Alan’s a light sleeper. You don’t snore, do you?”
“Like a pig,” Jensen blurts out before he knows it. He bites his tongue to keep from adding especially after a huge meal like this because you’re not supposed to know that much about the co-star you’ve only known for a year. Even more knowing that if he rolls Jared over to his right side and adjusts his pillows so they wouldn’t stack too high it would quiet him down.
Jensen’s mom takes it that he was teasing and gives him a reprimanding glare before disappearing into the kitchen as Jensen’s dad moves to the living room, already reaching for the tv remote control.
Jared leans over and whispers, “I’m so going to sneak into your room later, right?”
“I have a single bed,” Jensen whispers back, scowling.
“So?” Jensen could feel the bursts of warm air against his neck, picturing Jared and one of those fucking grins of his. “I’ll help you pick out a new one after I break it from riding you so hard,” Jared drawls.
Jensen feels the flutter of eyelashes against his cheek and Jared’s huge paw inching along the inseam of his denim, squeezing on spots he knows make Jensen’s dick perk up and pay attention. Jensen almost knocks his chair over from standing up so quick. “I’ll help you, Ma!” he hollers in the kitchen’s direction.
*
“Dude, so many things to see in Dallas and you want to see my old high school?”
“What do you have in Dallas that we don’t have in San Antone, huh?” Jared asks, small laugh escaping him.
Jensen grins, sneakers crushing the grass underneath his feet. “Me.”
Jared’s full blown laughter says yes in his own way. They walk side by side across the darkened field, shoulders bumping casually. This is the only touch they can afford and they are fine with it. They learn to keep the better things for when they are alone - the feel of fingers against naked skin, the crush of lips upon lips, sliding of skin against skin, hardness against hardness. It makes those touches precious and boy do they make up for every single time they can’t express what they feel. This - walking in stride, shoulders jostling with each step, breathing in and breathing out simultaneously automatically - is how they say I fucking love you.
Wordless, already familiar with the way the other is thinking, they settle onto the bleacher at the edge of the football field, mere three inches apart, the yearn to touch thrumming in their veins, eager to spiral out.
Maybe we should hold hands - Jensen thinks. Oh my God, I am a girl! - he thinks next.
"You hang here a lot back in the days?" Jared’s voice pipes up and vanquishes every thought in Jensen’s head.
"Pretty much," Jensen nods, eyes wandering around the void field.
The grass is rendered blue underneath the starlit sky and naked moon. Jared’s knuckles graze against Jensen’s and his heart does some flip flops in his ribcage, it is ridiculous. Jared has always been a heavy breather but now Jensen could feel the puffs of tepid air next to him, feeling Jared breathing inoutinoutin. Their forearms collide and the chafing of the hair jolts Jensen’s spine. Jared bites his nail.
“You know, I don’t think there’s one cheerleader who hasn’t had her panties down behind this thing.”
Jensen doesn’t know what possessed him to say what he said but when Jared shifts in his seat, a sensual smirk creeping up that face he loves so much, legs spread out languidly, he doesn’t care.
“Technically,” Jared drawls, consonants slurred and vowels lengthened, “you’re a cheerleader too, right?”
*
Jensen knows he is somehow bananas in the head when he has Jared’s epic hipbones locked between his thighs and bare ass rubbing against the damp ground of his high school’s football field and all he can think about is how if Coach Pratt catches him, his ass would be suspended. And it wouldn’t matter if he’s already out of the fucking school. Around here, this isn’t accepted. Then, Jared rolls his hips a little and Jensen loses his train of thoughts.
“God, Jen…” Jared whines, breathing shallow. “It’s been what? Two fucking weeks?”
It feels longer. Dear God it feels like a year. But Jensen isn’t about to admit he’s a romantic sap who couldn’t get enough of Jared. Not now, when his dick is bobbing against Jared’s and Jared is looking down at him, messy hair framing chiseled features, cheeks flushed bright pink and lips dark red and bruised from kissing.
“Too long,” Jensen gasps, bucking as he feels Jared’s long fingers circling his length.
“Jesus, Jen,” Jared growled, his free hand reaching Jensen’s ribcage, blunt nails drawing slow circles around a pert nipple. “Fuck me, please.”
Jensen suddenly feels heady with the want coloring Jared’s tone, reaches up and grips jutted hipbones, stopping the rolling motion. Jared resists the halt at first then looks down with green bulbous eyes filled with wonder. Jensen lets loose a slow smirk and he can see Jared’s breath hitches in his throat.
“Not that easily.”
Jared ponders whether his reply would haunt him, turn around and bite him right on the ass (the ass that is up in the open air behind bleachers of a Texas high school - fuck) but one flash of thought of what it would get him and he bends down and nibbles along Jensen’s jaw, tongue flicking out to licklicklick. “What do you want, Jen?”
“I’m in an educational mood, Jay. We’re in my old high school,” Jensen draws out his answer, paws dragging up and down and up and down again along Jared’s sides.
Jared’s head jerks backward, eyeing Jensen with darkened eyes. “You know I draw the line at role playing.”
“Sure,” Jensen scoffs, eyebrows raised high against his forehead. “Miss French Maid.”
“One time,” Jared pouts, lower lip like a pink pillow under the dim moonlight. “And I was very, seriously drunk.”
“Not drunk enough to go out and actually get the right costume and putting it on without my help, fake eyelashes and garters and stilettos and all.”
Jared laughs low, breathing air into Jensen’s ear. “That’s right. Anything for you, Jensen. Just tell me. Fuck,” he whimpers as Jensen’s hands slide lower to cup his ass. “Tell me what you want.”
Jensen leans upwards and whispers against Jared’s face, light stubble grazing, tonguing an earlobe. “I want to hear something pretty come out of those lips of yours. Latin’s my favorite language, Jared. Have I told you that?” One finger strays, rubbing against Jared’s balls sensuously and Jensen knows he’s a goner.
“Dude,” Jared presses his laughter of amusement against Jensen’s hardened nipple. “The only Latin I know is from the show. That exorcising thing.”
Jensen smirks, strong fingers circling Jared’s cock. “I don’t care,” he mouths against Jared’s hair and squeezes, thumb pressing against the head.
Jared lets out a low moan. Then, “Regna terræ, cantáteDeo, psálliteDómino, qui fertur-” he chokes as Jensen slides in one thick saliva-slickened finger, pressing in slowly.
“Keep going,” Jensen orders, placing a second finger against the opening, ready to enter at Jared’s next word.
Jared plants his hands on the ground next to Jensen’s head, desire pulled taut deep inside. He can feel his cock swelling, arching towards his belly between them, so hard it almost hurt. He remembers in fragments, much less now, as Jensen’s single digit teases against that achy spot, not nearly enough. He skips, “Exorcisámuste, omnisimmúnde spíritus,” but he doesn’t think Jensen minds because he is pushing in the second finger and curls them just to hit the bundle of nerves and fuck Jared is about to come just from that.
Jensen hears the keening whimpers in Jared’s voice and lets his free hand’s thumb stroke the vein on the underside of Jared’s dick, choking at the base to keep him from coming just yet. “I’ll take care of you,” he breathes, barely audible underneath the harsh breathing and the rushing of blood in Jared’s ears.
Jared bucks a bit against Jensen’s hand and swallows. “Omnissatánica potéstas, omnis incúrsio infernálisadversárii,” he pauses to inhale sharply as Jensen starts to pay extra attention to the nerves beneath the tip, slowing down his strokes at the same point, knowing Jared, knowing what he needs. “Omnislégio, omniscongregátio et-fuck, yes - oh, Jensen, god,” he cries out as he comes in thick bursts against fingers and smooth belly skin.
Jensen arches up, sucks in Jared’s lower lip and presses a tongue eagerly inside. “Keep going, please, Jared, I-need, God, I need you. Now, please,” he grinds his hardened cock against Jared’s wet, softening one for a short flash of time, third finger already joining the other two deep within Jared.
"Come on, Jen..I need...I need," Jared rasps, palms digging into the dirt on the sides of Jensen’s heated body. Somewhere in the distance a bunch of crickets are having a karaoke. "Please."
Jensen grips Jared’s hips so hard he knows he is leaving bruises, holding Jared above him, not granting him the friction he needs to feel. Fuck, Jensen needs that friction too. At the back of his mind, he can feel the slick sliding of a heavy cock against his own, grinding hard and fast and Jared’s sharp, angled hipbones leaving imprints against his pale skin. He presses a moan against gritted teeth, “I’ll...I will. Just say it, Jared. Say anything.”
“Can’t,” Jared gasps, six foot five frame bent at an awkward angle. He laps at the collection of sweat in the dip of Jensen’s throat, bitelicksuck at the smooth skin lightly dotted with mini freckles. In the dark, he can trace the constellation with his tongue, out of sheer memory.
Jensen whimpers, back arching, hands ghosting over the curve of Jared’s ass, tempting. “Yes, you can. I need to hear you say it.”
“Abinsídiisdiáboli, liberanos, Dómine,” Jared breathes, strands of damp hair brushing against Jensen’s jaw.
Jensen takes in the words, growls deep underneath his breath and enters Jared in one, smooth, long thrust until he can feel the head of his cock bumping against something that makes Jared mewl and his own dick comes back to life, filling up with blood. “Soles occidere et redire possunt: nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda,” he whispers softly and Jared’s eyes flutters close, mouth slack open and breaths rushing against his face. “da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,” he says in time with his own thrusts, working his way inside Jared’s warm, clenching muscles. The literal meaning of his phrases swims across his eyes and he surprises himself for being able to recite anything by rote, much less a fucking Latin poem. Jared is making a distinctive sound against the back of his throat, letting Jensen know that he is about to come again. “deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum. dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,” he murmurs, voice shaky as they steal tiny little kisses now and again, moving and arching in rhythm.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jared groans, hips movement jerky and shallow. “Jen, yes, God.” Jensen watches Jared’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows rapidly and he reaches out to rake thick, unruly hair back, needing to see Jared’s face as he-“Fuck, Jen,” and Jared is coming again, long and sweet.
“aut ne quis malus inuidere possit, cum tantum sciat esse basiorum,” Jensen finishes in time with Jared’s orgasm, drawing out the syllables as their voices amalgamate in the night air - his forming lyrical phrases and Jared’s stringing Gods and Jensens and yes with groans and moans and blasphemies. Jared’s voice rings deep inside him as he cants his hips further upward, releasing everything, all of him inside Jared, muttering nonsense and fucksogoodyesjaredyes.
*
“Dude,” Jared wheezes, as he rolls over onto his back, feeling the grass poking at his oversensitized back (after that? His whole fucking body is oversensitized). “Where did you learn how to say those?”
Jensen grins, eyes falling shut lazily. “A magician never reveals his secret.”
The air wafts around them and everything smells like sex.
“Hmm...” Jared runs his tongue against the side of Jensen’s neck and watches as the vein pulses erratically as a response. “I wonder how many magic shows this magician’s done.”
Jensen opens his eyes, rolls his head aside to face Jared and his green eyes speak with him. “Only with you.”
“Latin, huh? Pretty kinky, Jen,” Jared grins against Jensen’s clavicle, teeth scraping against sweat dampened, heated skin. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“This from the guy who comes spurting like a ginormous hose for a whole minute just from hearing a poem verse.”
“I think we need to make sure that the next time we have a scene where you have to speak Latin that I am nowhere near you. Wouldn’t want to be arrested for indecent behavior.”
Jensen laughs, voice echoing through the dark surrounding them. “Kripke’d be pissed.”
---
‡ Title translates as I am lost if I do not love.
‡ Verse recited by Jared is extracted from Psalm 67:33-36 (Nova Vulgate) and Exorcismus in Satanum et Angelos Apostaticos and the Gloria Patri; off the episode Devil’s Trap.
‡ Verse recited by Jensen is extracted from Carmen 5 by Gaius Valerius Catullus; which translates into:
The suns are able to fall and rise:
When that brief light has fallen for us,
we must sleep a never ending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand more, then another hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them all up so that we don't know,
and so that no one can be jealous of us when he finds out
how many kisses we have shared.