J2 | Slow Burn | NC-17
Title: Slow Burn
Warnings: pot use, mentions of past drug use, fleeting mention of past infidelity, gross thievery of current NYE shenanigans (mine)
Summary: Jared's good and drunk while Jensen's warm and high.
Notes: Pinch hit for 2016 spn_j2_xmas, for buticankarriyou's prompt for shotgunning. Big thanks to the fangirl NYE commune group of kelleigh, cherie_morte, zubeneschamali, and quickreaver for a variety of brainstorming, beta, and words.
Read on AO3
It’s well past midnight and Jared is happily warm. He’d drunk a number of beers, but the exact count escaped him soon after his seventh met the group’s fourth shot.
Danneel had insisted on the newest Pinterest creation of pink champagne Jell-O shots. Everyone had laughed and harassed the craft maven on her suggestion, yet no one has complained whenever the gelatin shots go down.
Jared can still taste the bubbly on his lips, and he licks them a few times until all that’s left is the sour flavor of his beer. Which reminds him that he needs another.
He leaves the group in the living room to hit the kitchen, unsettling Genevieve from one side and Misha on the other. He has to step over Sophia and Austin cuddling on the floor, then bypass Danneel’s dangling leg hanging over the side of the arm chair. He backwalks to the open kitchen and smiles at the sight of his closest friends chilling out after a long run of drinking games, trivia, and Twister - not naked, like Misha had suggested, but dirty nonetheless as the crew let loose a long line of profanities whenever their bodies touched in unusual ways.
The island counter hits his ass as he wonders where Jensen is. Jared touches his lips as he remembers when midnight struck and he shared kisses with the girls, and even Chad and Misha. All playful and full of that deep river of close friendship that is built on a decade of time spent together since college. Their annual New Year’s trip to Chad’s parents’ vacation home has kept them in touch no matter how many miles now separate them in their adult lives.
Jared met Jensen later in college, but they’ve kept up constant communications via most social media platforms. Sharing inside jokes from their friends, leaning on one another as jobs have been stressful, families ebb and flow, and love lives turn sour.
Now that his pleasantly hazy mind is circling around his old friend, Jared realizes he hasn’t seen Jensen since before the clock struck midnight and hit reset on their lives. Then he spots him out on the closed-in back porch, haloed by the lighting overhead.
Determined, and a little bit curious as to what’s keeping Jensen occupied, Jared heads through the kitchen, grabs one beer for himself and another for Jensen, and pushes the back door open with his foot.
“Found you,” he drawls, grinning lazily as he sets the beers on the patio table.
“I’m not hiding,” Jensen replies, soft green eyes dropping from Jared’s face to his hand.
Jared is momentarily fascinated by the slightest wisp of smoke curling up from the corner of Jensen’s mouth. A spot he often finds himself staring at in the space between moments. A spot he tries not to think about when actually facing Jensen.
The smoke lifts and dissipates, although Jared can see a hint of the same fuzziness in Jensen’s eyes. That’s when Jared realizes what’s kept Jensen out on the porch while everyone else is making merry inside.
“You weren’t planning to share that, were you?”
Jensen’s body jolts a little when he hears Jared’s voice, like he’d been floating far away and the interruption brought him crashing back into orbit.
All Jared wants is to float back out with him. Always has.
“Jared,” Jensen says, his voice a little airy already. Jared wonders how long Jensen’s been nursing the joint pinched between his fingers.
“Yeah,” Jared agrees. Takes a seat next to Jensen on the outdoor couch, knocking his friend’s knee with the beer he’d brought for him. “It’s me.”
“I bought this from Rosenbaum,” Jensen says with a slight laugh. “Can you believe that?”
“Damn, that guy still sells weed out of his mom’s basement, huh?” Jared asks. When Jensen nods, he shakes his head. “Now I really feel nostalgic.”
“You remember that party he threw back in junior year?” Jensen asks, as if Jared could ever forget.
The first night they met. The way they’d instantly gravitated toward each other, even before Danneel formally introduced them. Other memories come, too, memories Jared is ashamed and thrilled by in
equal measures.
Jensen’s mouth on his after way too many beers. Nights where the music was so loud and the weed so smooth that it was easy for Jared to forget he had a girlfriend. He and Jensen were nothing but good friends sober. Yet on nights like this, nights when they were compromised …
Yeah. Jared’s definitely feeling nostalgic.
Jensen makes a filthy, content sound, like he’s remembering the same things Jared is. Then he holds his hands up, offering the joint to Jared, and Jared realizes it was just the pot making him moan.
Just like in college, he decides he’ll blame the beer for what happens next. He accepts the blunt from Jensen. Then instead of bringing it to his lips, he brings his lips to Jensen’s.
It’s as if Jensen is reacting on decade-old instincts, how fast his mouth opens for Jared. He seals his lips over Jensen’s completely, trapping the smoke, and accepts everything as Jensen pushes his breath out.
His head is spinning. He’s higher than a satellite and it’s not the weed, not yet.
Jared sucks at Jensen’s lips just before pulling away, telling himself he’s just hoarding the smoke as best he can. When Jensen’s dark eyes zero in on his, Jared chokes on the smoke. And the moment. On Jensen’s warm gaze.
“Remember when …” Jensen drawls out the corner of his mouth. His words are lazy, just like his body, which melts into the cushions. Easing even closer to Jared’s body.
In lieu of continuing that sentence, Jensen sucks on the joint, holding his breath with an expectant expression. Jared is right on board with this thread and dives in for another shot of lighting with their lips sealed together, feathery smoke floating between their mouths as Jensen blows. Jared draws in the hit then lures Jensen closer with one hand settling at the back of his neck, fingers flitting through the short hairs.
Jensen sinks lower into the cushions and Jared covers him, angles them across the sofa so there’s a chance they can fit together.
With a moan, Jensen yanks at Jared’s jeans while rocking up against him, dicks pressing into one another’s thighs. Jared thinks they’ve always fit together, but just never bothered to try.
“Remember when,” Jensen pants out, suddenly full of life and color.
“I remember it all.”
“Tom’s basement?”
Jared searches into the past and comes up with a slanted smile while his hips dig in a little further to spread Jensen’s legs wider. All stocked up on Rosenbaum’s greatest hits with their friends all but passing out in the basement of Tom’s townhouse rental just off campus. Jensen had found his way into Jared’s lap while Jared found his hands planted down the back of Jensen’s pants to fuck him through their jeans.
It’s far too cheap to replay their youth with such accuracy. But Jared has never been much for high class trends, and he figures going with something as trusty as a sleepy, silky Jensen melting against him is a great way to start the year off.
Words are useless to them; only tendrils of sounds escape their mouths in between deep, swampy kisses as Jared loses all pretense for finesse. He wraps his leg around the back of Jensen’s thigh and hitches it up to burrow closer, trap Jensen against him, feel the wholeness of Jensen’s cock rubbing against his, denim rough and nearly as loud as their breathing.
“If I come,” Jensen starts, a bit angrily, but so beautifully out of breath that Jared bites along Jensen’s neck and licks at the hollow of his throat.
“I’ll be so proud.”
Jensen huffs a laugh. “Of me?”
“Of me.”
“What a dirtbag.”
Jared rises to watch Jensen’s eyes glaze over then snap back to attention between every slide of their bodies back and forth. “You miss this,” he assures him, and maybe himself. “You miss me.”
Before more can be said, Jensen tugs at Jared’s neck to clamp them together in a rough kiss, noises trapped behind Jensen’s teeth as he stutters, slows, gnaws at Jared’s lips.
That’s Jensen crossing the finish line. Jared definitely remembers the first time he witnessed it. And the second, fourth, tenth.
The soupy way Jensen’s arms move to cradle Jared’s face, bringing him down to touch foreheads, tells Jared that Jensen remembers a whole lot as well, including all the words gone unsaid between emails and texts, photos shared with sweet looks and longing hopes for seeing each other more often than one holiday a year.
Normally, it takes something less sophisticated than faded polaroids flipping through his mind to come. But Jensen has always been an exception to all rules, and Jared presses in tighter to rock through his crashing orgasm like they’re back in college with quick-fire libidos. Only, they’re here all these years later with the same spark flaring between them.
“Fuck, Jay,” Jensen whispers against his lips, breath still leaving him in labored pants.
“Later?” he offers. That’s the one thing they wouldn’t remember, the final step for them to crash through all these years after that first flicker between them.
The answer is Jensen’s lips pressing lightly to Jared’s mouth and a promising purr rumbling deep in his throat.
Jared is prepared to follow through on that promise, once they muster up the energy to reignite this magic back in the house, in the master bedroom Jared has claimed as home for this long weekend. Hopefully, they’ll fuel that fire that’s been glowing just beneath the surface.
Warnings: pot use, mentions of past drug use, fleeting mention of past infidelity, gross thievery of current NYE shenanigans (mine)
Summary: Jared's good and drunk while Jensen's warm and high.
Notes: Pinch hit for 2016 spn_j2_xmas, for buticankarriyou's prompt for shotgunning. Big thanks to the fangirl NYE commune group of kelleigh, cherie_morte, zubeneschamali, and quickreaver for a variety of brainstorming, beta, and words.
Read on AO3
It’s well past midnight and Jared is happily warm. He’d drunk a number of beers, but the exact count escaped him soon after his seventh met the group’s fourth shot.
Danneel had insisted on the newest Pinterest creation of pink champagne Jell-O shots. Everyone had laughed and harassed the craft maven on her suggestion, yet no one has complained whenever the gelatin shots go down.
Jared can still taste the bubbly on his lips, and he licks them a few times until all that’s left is the sour flavor of his beer. Which reminds him that he needs another.
He leaves the group in the living room to hit the kitchen, unsettling Genevieve from one side and Misha on the other. He has to step over Sophia and Austin cuddling on the floor, then bypass Danneel’s dangling leg hanging over the side of the arm chair. He backwalks to the open kitchen and smiles at the sight of his closest friends chilling out after a long run of drinking games, trivia, and Twister - not naked, like Misha had suggested, but dirty nonetheless as the crew let loose a long line of profanities whenever their bodies touched in unusual ways.
The island counter hits his ass as he wonders where Jensen is. Jared touches his lips as he remembers when midnight struck and he shared kisses with the girls, and even Chad and Misha. All playful and full of that deep river of close friendship that is built on a decade of time spent together since college. Their annual New Year’s trip to Chad’s parents’ vacation home has kept them in touch no matter how many miles now separate them in their adult lives.
Jared met Jensen later in college, but they’ve kept up constant communications via most social media platforms. Sharing inside jokes from their friends, leaning on one another as jobs have been stressful, families ebb and flow, and love lives turn sour.
Now that his pleasantly hazy mind is circling around his old friend, Jared realizes he hasn’t seen Jensen since before the clock struck midnight and hit reset on their lives. Then he spots him out on the closed-in back porch, haloed by the lighting overhead.
Determined, and a little bit curious as to what’s keeping Jensen occupied, Jared heads through the kitchen, grabs one beer for himself and another for Jensen, and pushes the back door open with his foot.
“Found you,” he drawls, grinning lazily as he sets the beers on the patio table.
“I’m not hiding,” Jensen replies, soft green eyes dropping from Jared’s face to his hand.
Jared is momentarily fascinated by the slightest wisp of smoke curling up from the corner of Jensen’s mouth. A spot he often finds himself staring at in the space between moments. A spot he tries not to think about when actually facing Jensen.
The smoke lifts and dissipates, although Jared can see a hint of the same fuzziness in Jensen’s eyes. That’s when Jared realizes what’s kept Jensen out on the porch while everyone else is making merry inside.
“You weren’t planning to share that, were you?”
Jensen’s body jolts a little when he hears Jared’s voice, like he’d been floating far away and the interruption brought him crashing back into orbit.
All Jared wants is to float back out with him. Always has.
“Jared,” Jensen says, his voice a little airy already. Jared wonders how long Jensen’s been nursing the joint pinched between his fingers.
“Yeah,” Jared agrees. Takes a seat next to Jensen on the outdoor couch, knocking his friend’s knee with the beer he’d brought for him. “It’s me.”
“I bought this from Rosenbaum,” Jensen says with a slight laugh. “Can you believe that?”
“Damn, that guy still sells weed out of his mom’s basement, huh?” Jared asks. When Jensen nods, he shakes his head. “Now I really feel nostalgic.”
“You remember that party he threw back in junior year?” Jensen asks, as if Jared could ever forget.
The first night they met. The way they’d instantly gravitated toward each other, even before Danneel formally introduced them. Other memories come, too, memories Jared is ashamed and thrilled by in
equal measures.
Jensen’s mouth on his after way too many beers. Nights where the music was so loud and the weed so smooth that it was easy for Jared to forget he had a girlfriend. He and Jensen were nothing but good friends sober. Yet on nights like this, nights when they were compromised …
Yeah. Jared’s definitely feeling nostalgic.
Jensen makes a filthy, content sound, like he’s remembering the same things Jared is. Then he holds his hands up, offering the joint to Jared, and Jared realizes it was just the pot making him moan.
Just like in college, he decides he’ll blame the beer for what happens next. He accepts the blunt from Jensen. Then instead of bringing it to his lips, he brings his lips to Jensen’s.
It’s as if Jensen is reacting on decade-old instincts, how fast his mouth opens for Jared. He seals his lips over Jensen’s completely, trapping the smoke, and accepts everything as Jensen pushes his breath out.
His head is spinning. He’s higher than a satellite and it’s not the weed, not yet.
Jared sucks at Jensen’s lips just before pulling away, telling himself he’s just hoarding the smoke as best he can. When Jensen’s dark eyes zero in on his, Jared chokes on the smoke. And the moment. On Jensen’s warm gaze.
“Remember when …” Jensen drawls out the corner of his mouth. His words are lazy, just like his body, which melts into the cushions. Easing even closer to Jared’s body.
In lieu of continuing that sentence, Jensen sucks on the joint, holding his breath with an expectant expression. Jared is right on board with this thread and dives in for another shot of lighting with their lips sealed together, feathery smoke floating between their mouths as Jensen blows. Jared draws in the hit then lures Jensen closer with one hand settling at the back of his neck, fingers flitting through the short hairs.
Jensen sinks lower into the cushions and Jared covers him, angles them across the sofa so there’s a chance they can fit together.
With a moan, Jensen yanks at Jared’s jeans while rocking up against him, dicks pressing into one another’s thighs. Jared thinks they’ve always fit together, but just never bothered to try.
“Remember when,” Jensen pants out, suddenly full of life and color.
“I remember it all.”
“Tom’s basement?”
Jared searches into the past and comes up with a slanted smile while his hips dig in a little further to spread Jensen’s legs wider. All stocked up on Rosenbaum’s greatest hits with their friends all but passing out in the basement of Tom’s townhouse rental just off campus. Jensen had found his way into Jared’s lap while Jared found his hands planted down the back of Jensen’s pants to fuck him through their jeans.
It’s far too cheap to replay their youth with such accuracy. But Jared has never been much for high class trends, and he figures going with something as trusty as a sleepy, silky Jensen melting against him is a great way to start the year off.
Words are useless to them; only tendrils of sounds escape their mouths in between deep, swampy kisses as Jared loses all pretense for finesse. He wraps his leg around the back of Jensen’s thigh and hitches it up to burrow closer, trap Jensen against him, feel the wholeness of Jensen’s cock rubbing against his, denim rough and nearly as loud as their breathing.
“If I come,” Jensen starts, a bit angrily, but so beautifully out of breath that Jared bites along Jensen’s neck and licks at the hollow of his throat.
“I’ll be so proud.”
Jensen huffs a laugh. “Of me?”
“Of me.”
“What a dirtbag.”
Jared rises to watch Jensen’s eyes glaze over then snap back to attention between every slide of their bodies back and forth. “You miss this,” he assures him, and maybe himself. “You miss me.”
Before more can be said, Jensen tugs at Jared’s neck to clamp them together in a rough kiss, noises trapped behind Jensen’s teeth as he stutters, slows, gnaws at Jared’s lips.
That’s Jensen crossing the finish line. Jared definitely remembers the first time he witnessed it. And the second, fourth, tenth.
The soupy way Jensen’s arms move to cradle Jared’s face, bringing him down to touch foreheads, tells Jared that Jensen remembers a whole lot as well, including all the words gone unsaid between emails and texts, photos shared with sweet looks and longing hopes for seeing each other more often than one holiday a year.
Normally, it takes something less sophisticated than faded polaroids flipping through his mind to come. But Jensen has always been an exception to all rules, and Jared presses in tighter to rock through his crashing orgasm like they’re back in college with quick-fire libidos. Only, they’re here all these years later with the same spark flaring between them.
“Fuck, Jay,” Jensen whispers against his lips, breath still leaving him in labored pants.
“Later?” he offers. That’s the one thing they wouldn’t remember, the final step for them to crash through all these years after that first flicker between them.
The answer is Jensen’s lips pressing lightly to Jared’s mouth and a promising purr rumbling deep in his throat.
Jared is prepared to follow through on that promise, once they muster up the energy to reignite this magic back in the house, in the master bedroom Jared has claimed as home for this long weekend. Hopefully, they’ll fuel that fire that’s been glowing just beneath the surface.