Broken Bone Timestamp!
Title: Get Your Hands on the Ball
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2300
Notes: for raeschae from the long-ago holiday timestamp post. She wanted basketball-star!Jared/physical-therapist!Jensen and something to do with the basketball strike. So, this is set, like, late November.
It takes a few seconds for Jensen to tell Jared’s house is empty when he stops by after his late shift. He dumps his jacket over the back of the sofa in the living room then looks around hesitantly, training his ears to any sounds.
Most lights are off and not a single TV can be heard from any of the five rooms that has one. He had figured Jared would be moving between the screens, alternating between listening and mocking reporters and commentators discussing the fact that the NBA lockout is over and teams are reporting for duty as soon as possible.
But no, that’s not what Jared’s doing at all, because Jensen’s drawn to the back patio doors. Just beyond them he can hear then see Jared dribbling a ball around the court, between his legs, around his hips, high, then low, as he jogs between the hoops at either end of the court. One spotlight barely lights up the area, but Jensen can tell that Jared’s working his ass off, sweating through his long-sleeve shirt, and hustling as he moves despite the cool, late-fall temperatures of Chicago.
The ball pounding on the specialty pavement is constant, breaking only for Jared to shoot from behind the three-point line, or to run the ball in for a layup.
It’s too chilly outside, especially when Jensen’s still in his work attire - short sleeve polo doing little to keep him warm. He steps outside and grabs a Bulls hoodie off the chaise lounger on the deck, one Jared must have left behind once he got outside, hot like a furnace, as always.
The sweatshirt keeps Jensen a bit warm. It’s soft with a nice, thick cotton of the highest brand. Jensen’s not quite swimming in it, though it is a bit large and hangs low, definitely fit for a basketball player with Jared’s stature. That sends a small jolt through Jensen’s body, instantly warming him up for an entirely different reason, especially when he watches Jared race to the hoop, jump high, and slam the ball into the basket with his fingers gripping tight on the rim.
The thin cotton sleeves of Jared’s shirt do little to hide the thick bulge of his biceps as he hangs from the rim for a few extra seconds, groaning as he attempts to lift his knees in a modified pull-up, and then drops to his feet.
Jared uses both hands to comb hair back and look around for the ball he’s lost track of, but he finds Jensen instead.
“A little cold out here, don’t you think?” Jensen says with a small smile.
Matching Jensen’s smile, Jared tips his head. “Are you babying me again?”
“Just an observation,” Jensen insists. When he notices that Jared’s feet are fidgeting, knees, too, and his fingers keep twitching, Jensen lifts his eyebrow as he obviously stares at the movements.
“I have a lot of nervous energy,” Jared admits in his most childish, whiny voice.
“How so?”
“The season’s on now, and I’m fucking rusty ...”
“And excited,” Jensen finishes dryly.
Jared moves across the court to recover his ball and Jensen wonders if it’s his own way to deflect from the conversation. “Maybe a little,” Jared agrees awkwardly, only to cover up with, “I mean, it’s my job, not that I don’t like being here with you all the time, but I-”
Jensen laughs and puts his hand up to stop him. “Don’t even. It’s fine.”
Surprisingly, it really is. They’d spent the summer following Jared’s All Star year, the one that brought them back together, always hanging around. Jared’s house, Jensen’s apartment, wherever, they were constantly making time for each other because Jared was free - training and practicing during the day while Jensen worked. It only really meshed for a month or so, until they started to get too much face time and all the little ticks came out and forced them to grit teeth and passive aggressively fight on occasion.
The players’ lockout didn’t help at all, pushing Jared into antsy and bored, slightly over-entitled, cocky territory while Jensen sat around rolling his eyes. Sure, it’s Jared’s career, and he wants to be paid a pretty penny, and wants to just freaking play like he’s supposed to, Jensen got that. But he also got to the point where he just wanted someone to cave in during arbitration so Jared could get out of the house and on the road to give them some space. Because all that quality time became more like quantity: far too much.
Jensen figures it happens to any couple once they fall into routine. He also figures all the make-up sex has been worth every petty second.
And at that thought, Jensen shoots Jared a low-lidded look and purses his lips. “All this nevous energy, huh?”
“Yeah?” Jared asks slowly, as if he’s not quite getting the point.
“I can think of a few other ways to handle it.”
“If you say cleaning, I’m gonna pelt you in the face with this ball.”
“Well, that’s real mature,” Jensen replies as he steps closer to Jared. When he’s standing right in front of him, he takes a moment to look over Jared. He starts with the muscular bulk of Jared’s calf up to his hips jutting out from the navy netted shorts, up to his broad shoulder, across to the other, and back down like he’s assessing Jared’s physical net worth.
Jensen would say it’s pretty damn high.
“Oh, right, that” Jared suddenly says, and Jensen has to remind himself of all the time it took them to get it right. That despite Jared’s forward come-ons, once Jensen turned around and noticed, it took a little for Jared to really accept the opportunity.
“Yeah,” Jensen says as darkly as possible, but he’s sure he’s starting to smile and chuckle. “That.”
“C’mon then!” Jared exclaims as he hops around Jensen. He smacks Jensen’s ass then runs towards the house.
Jared’s a professional athlete, sure, but Jensen’s no slouch, and he immediately turns the jets on and races after him. Jensen is so quick, in fact, that he hops up the deck stairs two at a time and just catches the sliding glass door before Jared can close it in his face and laugh. Instead, Jared makes a goofy, disappointed frown then turns and runs through the house, shucking his shirt and hopping while he kicks off his shoes near the hallway.
As Jensen follows, he can hear how hard their footsteps are, especially as Jared pounds up the front stairs towards his room. Jensen calls out, “Be careful, asshole. I’m not cleaning up blood,” because he has had to do that before ...
“Okay, Mom!” are the infamous words before Jensen hears a yelp, muffled thwack, then the loud bang of what must be Jared hitting something hard. He freezes at the top of the stairs, only seeing one of Jared’s feet in the doorway, the rest of his body further inside the room.
Jensen’s heart has completely halted all function, his lungs, too, and suddenly he’s wondering if this is what their lives are meant to be: Jared constantly tearing up his body and Jensen having to put him back together.
“Jay?” Jensen asks a little panicked just before he manages to convince his feet to move down the hall.
“Ow.”
Jensen finally manages to get his heart and lungs back in working order and sighs, moving into the bedroom. From the doorway, he can see Jared star-fished on the floor, arms and legs spread wide. “What did you do?” Jensen asks flatly.
“I fell.”
“Obviously.”
Jared rolls to his side, pops up to his knees then feet in a second, and hops to the right so he can sit at the edge of the bed.
As he has far too often, Jensen settles on his knees to assess Jared’s leg. “So?” he prompts when Jared doesn’t do anything but stare at his right leg stretched out towards Jensen.
Jared mumbles something, but Jensen doesn’t catch it. It takes a few more attempts at speech until he clearly says, “I stubbed my toe.”
Jensen rolls his eyes but laughs as he carefully pulls Jared’s right foot into his lap and softly rubs his thumbs along Jared’s arch.
“I tripped at the edge of the bed and the pain made me lose my balance and I fell to the floor,” Jared admits. “I think I lost my coordination during the strike.”
“Did you have any to begin with?”
“Maybe?”
Jensen smiles at him, pressing his thumbs in with more intent, continuing to distract Jared from whatever pain he has. “And to think, you once won a Slam Dunk Contest?”
“You’re damn right I did.”
“And now I see why it was the only time.” Jared tries to tug his foot back as he frowns, but Jensen holds on tight, shaking it a little. “Now you see why you gotta watch what you’re doing?”
“Now you see why I always call you Mom?” Jared smarts back immediately.
Jensen sighs. “I nag because you never listen.”
“I listen all the time!” Jared insists. “Like last night when you told me to roll over so you could eat me out.”
Suddenly, Jensen remembers why this whole thing started, what they were aiming to do in the bedroom. The blood drumming through his system is hot and heavy, rushing right to his dick in seconds. He leans forward and nudges Jared back to the mattress, crawling over him and immediately rocking his hips down to Jared’s.
Like a script, Jared’s hands settle on Jensen’s hips and he bares his neck for Jensen to dip down and suck along. This is exactly how last night started … though Jensen’s not sure he has the patience today to get to the end. Especially not when the memory of making Jared whimper with a long bout of rimming then long, slow fucking are replaying in his mind and making him go impossibly hard, incredibly fast.
Jensen quickens his hips in short circles as they move together, encouraged by Jared’s long fingers dipping inside the back of Jensen’s work khakis. His fingertips are squeezing tight into the flesh of Jensen’s ass and tugging him in even closer and harder, and even while Jensen’s losing control of his mouth because of how quickly they’re getting there, Jensen turns his head to grab Jared’s mouth in a heated kiss.
In a far off part of his brain, Jensen tells himself to stop, slow down, undress, make this last. They’re both still in pants and shorts, for Christ’s sake, but he physically can’t, not when he has Jared’s dick pressing into his hip to remind him just how big his boyfriend is, how hot and sexy and sexual he is despite how the rest of the world still expects him to walk around with the hottest girls on his arms.
And that somehow always makes Jensen’s breath catch and his heart jump. It’s Jared and Jensen, not Jared and Katie or Sophia or Genevieve or whoever else used to pop up in Jared’s life and star in tabloids.
Jensen grinds down hard, as if it further proves his place in Jared’s life. It doesn’t, but Jared’s deep, guttural moan certainly does. So does the quick rut of Jared’s hips, the bitten-off curse, and the sudden slink of wetness between them as Jared slings a leg around Jensen’s thigh and finishes.
Wrapping his arms around Jared’s neck and shoulders, Jensen finds the last few seconds of his control until he, too, comes in his pants, rocking slowly to ride it out.
“God damn,” Jared huffs against Jensen’s mouth, sliding his leg so his foot is nestled between Jensen’s legs, thigh tight around Jensen’s knee. “I love when you do that.”
Jensen has no power to move, so he just nestles against Jared’s warm body and hums in reply.
“When you get all crazy and just jump me,” Jared explains.
Jensen snorts softly and rises to his elbows so he can look down at Jared, just barely finding his shiny, happy eyes in the dark. “So, I can stop wasting my time trying to seduce you?”
“When were you ever trying to seduce me?”
With a thoughtful noise, Jensen nods. “Alright, yeah, good point.”
Jared rubs his foot along the inside of Jensen’s leg. “Not saying I wouldn’t mind it, though.”
Jensen chuckles and lightly bumps his forehead to Jared’s before dropping his voice, purposely overdoing it. “Maybe some night, you’ll be on the road, come back to the hotel, and find me under a bed of rose petals, completely naked and just waiting for you to ravage me.”
It’s a quick flip for Jared to turn them over, laughing as he does so. “That is the most ridiculous image ever.”
He runs his hands over Jared’s sides and smiles up at him. “I thought you’d like that.”
“But you’re gonna surprise me on the road?” Jared asks, face suddenly blank of emotion, like he’s trying to remain impartial to the idea.
“Maybe,” Jensen replies, shrugging. “If you want me to.”
“Of course I do,” Jared replies instantly. “How will I survive without you and your nagging?”
Narrowing his eyes, Jensen warns, “Watch it.”
“And your mouth,” he adds with a quick kiss. “And your dick.”
Jensen reaches between them and pushes at the waistband of Jared’s basketball shorts, smirking with heated eyes. “Then we better make sure you don’t forget how great they both are.”
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2300
Notes: for raeschae from the long-ago holiday timestamp post. She wanted basketball-star!Jared/physical-therapist!Jensen and something to do with the basketball strike. So, this is set, like, late November.
It takes a few seconds for Jensen to tell Jared’s house is empty when he stops by after his late shift. He dumps his jacket over the back of the sofa in the living room then looks around hesitantly, training his ears to any sounds.
Most lights are off and not a single TV can be heard from any of the five rooms that has one. He had figured Jared would be moving between the screens, alternating between listening and mocking reporters and commentators discussing the fact that the NBA lockout is over and teams are reporting for duty as soon as possible.
But no, that’s not what Jared’s doing at all, because Jensen’s drawn to the back patio doors. Just beyond them he can hear then see Jared dribbling a ball around the court, between his legs, around his hips, high, then low, as he jogs between the hoops at either end of the court. One spotlight barely lights up the area, but Jensen can tell that Jared’s working his ass off, sweating through his long-sleeve shirt, and hustling as he moves despite the cool, late-fall temperatures of Chicago.
The ball pounding on the specialty pavement is constant, breaking only for Jared to shoot from behind the three-point line, or to run the ball in for a layup.
It’s too chilly outside, especially when Jensen’s still in his work attire - short sleeve polo doing little to keep him warm. He steps outside and grabs a Bulls hoodie off the chaise lounger on the deck, one Jared must have left behind once he got outside, hot like a furnace, as always.
The sweatshirt keeps Jensen a bit warm. It’s soft with a nice, thick cotton of the highest brand. Jensen’s not quite swimming in it, though it is a bit large and hangs low, definitely fit for a basketball player with Jared’s stature. That sends a small jolt through Jensen’s body, instantly warming him up for an entirely different reason, especially when he watches Jared race to the hoop, jump high, and slam the ball into the basket with his fingers gripping tight on the rim.
The thin cotton sleeves of Jared’s shirt do little to hide the thick bulge of his biceps as he hangs from the rim for a few extra seconds, groaning as he attempts to lift his knees in a modified pull-up, and then drops to his feet.
Jared uses both hands to comb hair back and look around for the ball he’s lost track of, but he finds Jensen instead.
“A little cold out here, don’t you think?” Jensen says with a small smile.
Matching Jensen’s smile, Jared tips his head. “Are you babying me again?”
“Just an observation,” Jensen insists. When he notices that Jared’s feet are fidgeting, knees, too, and his fingers keep twitching, Jensen lifts his eyebrow as he obviously stares at the movements.
“I have a lot of nervous energy,” Jared admits in his most childish, whiny voice.
“How so?”
“The season’s on now, and I’m fucking rusty ...”
“And excited,” Jensen finishes dryly.
Jared moves across the court to recover his ball and Jensen wonders if it’s his own way to deflect from the conversation. “Maybe a little,” Jared agrees awkwardly, only to cover up with, “I mean, it’s my job, not that I don’t like being here with you all the time, but I-”
Jensen laughs and puts his hand up to stop him. “Don’t even. It’s fine.”
Surprisingly, it really is. They’d spent the summer following Jared’s All Star year, the one that brought them back together, always hanging around. Jared’s house, Jensen’s apartment, wherever, they were constantly making time for each other because Jared was free - training and practicing during the day while Jensen worked. It only really meshed for a month or so, until they started to get too much face time and all the little ticks came out and forced them to grit teeth and passive aggressively fight on occasion.
The players’ lockout didn’t help at all, pushing Jared into antsy and bored, slightly over-entitled, cocky territory while Jensen sat around rolling his eyes. Sure, it’s Jared’s career, and he wants to be paid a pretty penny, and wants to just freaking play like he’s supposed to, Jensen got that. But he also got to the point where he just wanted someone to cave in during arbitration so Jared could get out of the house and on the road to give them some space. Because all that quality time became more like quantity: far too much.
Jensen figures it happens to any couple once they fall into routine. He also figures all the make-up sex has been worth every petty second.
And at that thought, Jensen shoots Jared a low-lidded look and purses his lips. “All this nevous energy, huh?”
“Yeah?” Jared asks slowly, as if he’s not quite getting the point.
“I can think of a few other ways to handle it.”
“If you say cleaning, I’m gonna pelt you in the face with this ball.”
“Well, that’s real mature,” Jensen replies as he steps closer to Jared. When he’s standing right in front of him, he takes a moment to look over Jared. He starts with the muscular bulk of Jared’s calf up to his hips jutting out from the navy netted shorts, up to his broad shoulder, across to the other, and back down like he’s assessing Jared’s physical net worth.
Jensen would say it’s pretty damn high.
“Oh, right, that” Jared suddenly says, and Jensen has to remind himself of all the time it took them to get it right. That despite Jared’s forward come-ons, once Jensen turned around and noticed, it took a little for Jared to really accept the opportunity.
“Yeah,” Jensen says as darkly as possible, but he’s sure he’s starting to smile and chuckle. “That.”
“C’mon then!” Jared exclaims as he hops around Jensen. He smacks Jensen’s ass then runs towards the house.
Jared’s a professional athlete, sure, but Jensen’s no slouch, and he immediately turns the jets on and races after him. Jensen is so quick, in fact, that he hops up the deck stairs two at a time and just catches the sliding glass door before Jared can close it in his face and laugh. Instead, Jared makes a goofy, disappointed frown then turns and runs through the house, shucking his shirt and hopping while he kicks off his shoes near the hallway.
As Jensen follows, he can hear how hard their footsteps are, especially as Jared pounds up the front stairs towards his room. Jensen calls out, “Be careful, asshole. I’m not cleaning up blood,” because he has had to do that before ...
“Okay, Mom!” are the infamous words before Jensen hears a yelp, muffled thwack, then the loud bang of what must be Jared hitting something hard. He freezes at the top of the stairs, only seeing one of Jared’s feet in the doorway, the rest of his body further inside the room.
Jensen’s heart has completely halted all function, his lungs, too, and suddenly he’s wondering if this is what their lives are meant to be: Jared constantly tearing up his body and Jensen having to put him back together.
“Jay?” Jensen asks a little panicked just before he manages to convince his feet to move down the hall.
“Ow.”
Jensen finally manages to get his heart and lungs back in working order and sighs, moving into the bedroom. From the doorway, he can see Jared star-fished on the floor, arms and legs spread wide. “What did you do?” Jensen asks flatly.
“I fell.”
“Obviously.”
Jared rolls to his side, pops up to his knees then feet in a second, and hops to the right so he can sit at the edge of the bed.
As he has far too often, Jensen settles on his knees to assess Jared’s leg. “So?” he prompts when Jared doesn’t do anything but stare at his right leg stretched out towards Jensen.
Jared mumbles something, but Jensen doesn’t catch it. It takes a few more attempts at speech until he clearly says, “I stubbed my toe.”
Jensen rolls his eyes but laughs as he carefully pulls Jared’s right foot into his lap and softly rubs his thumbs along Jared’s arch.
“I tripped at the edge of the bed and the pain made me lose my balance and I fell to the floor,” Jared admits. “I think I lost my coordination during the strike.”
“Did you have any to begin with?”
“Maybe?”
Jensen smiles at him, pressing his thumbs in with more intent, continuing to distract Jared from whatever pain he has. “And to think, you once won a Slam Dunk Contest?”
“You’re damn right I did.”
“And now I see why it was the only time.” Jared tries to tug his foot back as he frowns, but Jensen holds on tight, shaking it a little. “Now you see why you gotta watch what you’re doing?”
“Now you see why I always call you Mom?” Jared smarts back immediately.
Jensen sighs. “I nag because you never listen.”
“I listen all the time!” Jared insists. “Like last night when you told me to roll over so you could eat me out.”
Suddenly, Jensen remembers why this whole thing started, what they were aiming to do in the bedroom. The blood drumming through his system is hot and heavy, rushing right to his dick in seconds. He leans forward and nudges Jared back to the mattress, crawling over him and immediately rocking his hips down to Jared’s.
Like a script, Jared’s hands settle on Jensen’s hips and he bares his neck for Jensen to dip down and suck along. This is exactly how last night started … though Jensen’s not sure he has the patience today to get to the end. Especially not when the memory of making Jared whimper with a long bout of rimming then long, slow fucking are replaying in his mind and making him go impossibly hard, incredibly fast.
Jensen quickens his hips in short circles as they move together, encouraged by Jared’s long fingers dipping inside the back of Jensen’s work khakis. His fingertips are squeezing tight into the flesh of Jensen’s ass and tugging him in even closer and harder, and even while Jensen’s losing control of his mouth because of how quickly they’re getting there, Jensen turns his head to grab Jared’s mouth in a heated kiss.
In a far off part of his brain, Jensen tells himself to stop, slow down, undress, make this last. They’re both still in pants and shorts, for Christ’s sake, but he physically can’t, not when he has Jared’s dick pressing into his hip to remind him just how big his boyfriend is, how hot and sexy and sexual he is despite how the rest of the world still expects him to walk around with the hottest girls on his arms.
And that somehow always makes Jensen’s breath catch and his heart jump. It’s Jared and Jensen, not Jared and Katie or Sophia or Genevieve or whoever else used to pop up in Jared’s life and star in tabloids.
Jensen grinds down hard, as if it further proves his place in Jared’s life. It doesn’t, but Jared’s deep, guttural moan certainly does. So does the quick rut of Jared’s hips, the bitten-off curse, and the sudden slink of wetness between them as Jared slings a leg around Jensen’s thigh and finishes.
Wrapping his arms around Jared’s neck and shoulders, Jensen finds the last few seconds of his control until he, too, comes in his pants, rocking slowly to ride it out.
“God damn,” Jared huffs against Jensen’s mouth, sliding his leg so his foot is nestled between Jensen’s legs, thigh tight around Jensen’s knee. “I love when you do that.”
Jensen has no power to move, so he just nestles against Jared’s warm body and hums in reply.
“When you get all crazy and just jump me,” Jared explains.
Jensen snorts softly and rises to his elbows so he can look down at Jared, just barely finding his shiny, happy eyes in the dark. “So, I can stop wasting my time trying to seduce you?”
“When were you ever trying to seduce me?”
With a thoughtful noise, Jensen nods. “Alright, yeah, good point.”
Jared rubs his foot along the inside of Jensen’s leg. “Not saying I wouldn’t mind it, though.”
Jensen chuckles and lightly bumps his forehead to Jared’s before dropping his voice, purposely overdoing it. “Maybe some night, you’ll be on the road, come back to the hotel, and find me under a bed of rose petals, completely naked and just waiting for you to ravage me.”
It’s a quick flip for Jared to turn them over, laughing as he does so. “That is the most ridiculous image ever.”
He runs his hands over Jared’s sides and smiles up at him. “I thought you’d like that.”
“But you’re gonna surprise me on the road?” Jared asks, face suddenly blank of emotion, like he’s trying to remain impartial to the idea.
“Maybe,” Jensen replies, shrugging. “If you want me to.”
“Of course I do,” Jared replies instantly. “How will I survive without you and your nagging?”
Narrowing his eyes, Jensen warns, “Watch it.”
“And your mouth,” he adds with a quick kiss. “And your dick.”
Jensen reaches between them and pushes at the waistband of Jared’s basketball shorts, smirking with heated eyes. “Then we better make sure you don’t forget how great they both are.”