SMPC: The Art of Letting Go
Written for the smpc
Title: The Art of Letting Go
Pairing:J2
Word count: 3500
Summary: Sequel to a moment out of time and life which is totally unecessary to read first if you don't want to. Basically, sometimes Jensen just needs to let go.
Warnings:NC-17, PWP, breath-play, fingering, dirty talk, light d/s, aftercare, sub!Jensen, dom!Jared.
Disclaimer: None fo this is true.
Thanks to: ashtraythieffor putting up with me, since I had kind of forgotten I had to write this, and then ask a beta to look at it. RL, you know... Anyway, she was kind enough to lend me her beta reader, the fantastic linvro21 who beta'd this story for me in a record time and to whom I am forever in debts. Thank you so, so much to the both of you.
A/N: This is officially a verse. Confetti! It's a parade!
He’s been fighting it for five days, the need and the frustration and the anger and the shame. These emotions are tangled so tight together, he can barely untangle them anymore.
It’s stupid, that’s what it is. He shouldn’t need this. He’s a grown man, damn it.
One day, Jared will realize how weak and stupid Jensen is. It’s a matter of time.
Times like these, Jensen has a hard time believing that his husband really wants and needs this as much as him. It’s never the same afterward.
Sometimes, it goes on for weeks without Jensen feeling any anxiety. Feeling in control, loved and cared for.
Then the feeling comes back. Something happens, most of the time at work, and it starts, and Jensen can’t do anything to stop it. And then the reality comes back to hit him in the face. How can Jared love this part of him, how can he desire Jensen that way?
So he waits. He waits until he’s ready to burst, waits until he yells at someone who doesn’t deserve it and hates himself even more.
And the worst, now that they’ve been playing this game for quite some time, is that Jared knows this. He knows how Jensen feels, what he craves, and he waits for his fucked up husband to ask for it.
It’s easy enough. “I need it,” is what Jensen says most of the time. He doesn’t even have to look at Jared in the eyes. Just letting out those threelittle words and everything, the hurt and the pain, the anger he feels toward himself -everything would go away, Jensen can lose himself in Jared’s embrace and leave everything to him.
Jensen just can’t.
He’s roaming in the living room, picking up books and discarded magazines, putting them in neat piles, then doing the same with the DVD’s boxes, the video-games, and fuck, Jared’s dirty socks tucked under the couch.
His husband is drinking a beer, watching the nine PM news on the TV, barely noticing him. Jensen hates it. He wants Jared to see how frustrated he is, how restless. He wants to be his husband’s center of attention right here and now. He wants Jared not so see anything except him.
Fuck, he needs it so bad. The game.
Instead of asking for it, though, he starts to rant about house chores and that he’s tired, and that Jared should pick up his stuff and stop leaving it everywhere, and how hard can it be to put his freaking dirty socks in the laundry basket, huh?
None of this is fair. Jared doesn’t even try to protest, though. He just puts his beer on the table beside him and turns off the TV. He’s unreasonably calm, and this attitude right there is only feeding the fire burning in the pit of Jensen’s stomach.
“So, you’re not gonna say anything?” he spits, like he’s just accused Jared of the most despicable crimes without him even flinching.
“Jensen, what’s this really about?” Jared asks in the same stupidly calm voice.
“It’s about you taking your fucking responsibilities,” Jensen replies.
Why do I have to ask? Is what he means. Of course. It doesn’t change anything, though. Tears of frustration and anger swell in his eyes and he leaves the living room before he starts crying like the wuss he is. He heads for the bathroom with the freaking socks in one hand, and drops them in the laundry basket, then he lets himself sink to the floor, his back against the bathtub, and tries to slow down his breathing, tries to will the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes to go back from where they came.
Then suddenly, like he’s skipped five minutes forward in the future, Jared is there,crouching in front of him.
“Jensen. Let’s say… We make an exception, okay? I can see that you need it, and it seems cruel to just ignore you until you’re ready to ask for it.”
Jensen swears under his breath. He can’t bring himself to look at Jared right now. “ ‘M not supposed to need this,” he croaks.
“Why not?”
“ ‘cause it’s… It isn’t normal, Jay. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong. It’s your way to alleviate the pressure. Damn it, Jensen, you’re not drinking yourself to death or anything as bad, you just want to let go sometimes, and believe me, if we can both find what we need in this, it’s not a bad thing, it’s a freaking fantastic way to deal. You should recommend it to your patients.”
Jensen snorts despite himself. Why does everything seem so big and dramatic just before he gives in, why does he do this to himself? They haven’t even started yet, and he’s already stiffening in the confines of his jeans.
“Now, I want you to take a shower, and then join me in the bedroom,” Jared tells him in this particular tone that gets Jensen to blush and shiver, because now the game is starting, and he’s so relieved he could cry.
::: :::
When Jensen enters the bedroom, Jared waits for him sitting on the bed. The lights are turned down and the temperature is nice and warm. Jensen’s dick is tenting his towel, in anticipation. He has so much trouble exposing himself to Jared like this, when his husband is all dressed up and ready to take the reins, so much trouble, but so much want burning inside him, already replacing the anger.
Angershameneedfrustration.
He’s getting there, not quite but almost.
He waits.
“Safeword?” Jared asks.
“Dandelions.”
“Okay, but you’ll need a safe-sign as well, because I want to try something and I’m not sure you’ll be able to speak,” Jared adds, his voice gruff and his eyes hungry.
Jensen suddenly feels hot all over. God, he wants this. Needs this.
“Want me to touch my ear? Like a baseball sign?” he half jokes.
“Show me.”
Jensen grabs his right earlobe between his thumb and his index finger.
“Alright,” Jared nods. “Now drop the towel and come lie down on the bed, on your back. “
The trust Jensen feels toward him scares him sometimes, but it’s thrilling as well. He lets the towel fall onto the floor, the fabric, scratchy from too many laundry cycles, brushes against his sensitive cock. He feels it, heavy between his legs, he feels it as much as he feels the desire beaming from Jared. His husband stands up and turns down the comforter without taking his eyes away from Jensen.
“Look at you,” he whispers.
Jensen blushes, again. He doesn’t know how to respond to praise, never has, so he simply climbs on the bed and crawls to the middle on all fours, then settles onto his back. Jared hovers right over him with the tube of lubricant already opened.
“Give me your fingers,” he asks, and that is new. Usually, Jensen is more passive during their game, relishing in the sensation of letting go, leaving it all to Jared. He feels insecure, suddenly, not knowing what’s about to come.
“Stop thinking so hard and do as I say,” Jared orders firmly.
And Jensen does, feeling his cock hardening a little more. Obeying, not questioning.
Jared coats his fingers with lube and sits on the bed. “Now, open yourself up for my cock. Don’t want you to hold back anything, want to hear if it feels good, alright?”
Jensen can’t hold Jared’s attentive gaze for too long. He feels his anal muscle twitching in anticipation already. He takes a deep breath and bends his legs, then starts rubbing the lube all over his hole, not waiting for too long before he slides the tip of a finger inside. When he dares to cast a quick look at Jared, he sees the intensity of his gaze, the concentration, and he feels ashamed and exposed, and it excites him, he wants this, wants to moan like a slut while he finger-fucks himself, abandoning any pretense of not getting off on this.
A whimper escapse his lips. Jared coaxes him, rubbing soothing circles on Jensen’s tense stomach. “That’s good, baby, go on.”
And Jensen loves the praise, needs it. He’s getting to a rhythm, two fingers sliding in and out, stretching his hole, grazing at his prostate, which triggers the first drops of precome to bubble at the slit of his dick, sticky and wet, sliding on his stomach. He keens in a high pitched voice he barely recognizes, his hips start to lift off the mattress, and he sweats, and shakes, and all he can think of is that Jared is looking at him, Jared wants him to do this and god he wants to be good, wants to give up any conscious thought and just feel.
“Enough,” Jared says suddenly.
Jensen stops, keeping his fingers shoved deep in his hole, waiting, his eyes closed shut, wanting and seeking the release already.
“Look at me,” Jared adds.
It’s hard, because in the back of his mind, there’s this stern, logical voice telling him he must look debauched and ridiculous, losing himself to pleasure like this, but it soon fades off when he opens his eyes and sees Jared completely naked, kneeling between his legs. Jensen blushes so hard he feels the blood pounding in his ears, and instead of shame, a sensation of contentment blooms in his chest, seeing the love and wonder in Jared’s eyes.
He’s good, he can be good for Jared. Just the thought makes his balls harden and draw up toward his dick. “Jared,” he cries.
“What? Ready to take my cock, baby? Want you to bend your knees and keep your legs open, hold on to them, don’t let go, alright?”
Jensen nods eagerly, not caring anymore about what he must look like, his hole twitching, sloppy and loose from the fingering. Soon enough, Jared aligns himself, his long and thick dick looking too big, always too big, and the delicious burn when he finally breaches the first ring of muscle is almost too much for Jensen who’s panting harshly, moaning on each exhale.
“So good for me, taking me, just taking it,” Jared groans when he finally bottoms out. “Don’t move, baby, let me do all the work.
Jensen nods eagerly, and Jared doesn’t wait anymore, before he puts both hands on the mattress on each side of Jensen’s stomach and begins a punishing rhythm, sliding in and out hard and fast, dragging long whimpers and punched out “oh’s” from Jensen. He feels himself moving up and down the bed sheet, burning all over from the pleasure and desire. He doesn’t control anything, just takes it and loves it, because Jared keeps looking at him, murmuring constant praise about how well Jensen is taking it, how good he is, how turned on it gets Jared to see him like this.
Jensen’s vision has reduced to only Jared’s face, red and shining with sweat, and he drinks everything in, louder than he ever was, needing to come so bad but ready to wait as long as Jared wants him to.
It doesn’t seem to be the goal of the game today, though, one of those times where Jared brings him to the brink of orgasm again and again, until Jensen is a panting, needy mess begging for release. No. Jared is fucking him hard and steady, and soon enough his rhythm falters, he’s about to come, Jensen knows, and when his husband asks him in a choked voice to constrict his muscles as hard as he can, he knows that it’s going to be over soon. But he obediently clenches his inner muscles, and Jared shoves one last time, deep inside of him before he’s coming, his powerful body wracked with shivers, the tensed muscles of his stomach and chest twitching.
It’s good, feeling the warm semen filling him, and Jensen wants to come so bad, doesn’t know when he’ll be allowed. The uncertainty and absence of control are a sweet torture that Jensen wants to be submitted to, needs to.
“Let go of your knees,” Jared tells him right after he slides out of him. The loss, the feeling of emptiness strikes Jensen hard. He feels tears welling up in his eyes and sliding down his cheeks.
“Please,” he murmurs. “Please.”
“It’s okay, baby, m’ gonna take care of you,” Jared murmurs, kissing his forehead and cheeks, the tip of his nose, softly, a barely there tingling sensation.
Jared traps Jensen’s legs between his thighs and sits back. He drags a finger under Jensen’s swollen, angry pink cock, smiling softly when it jerks upward. “You need it bad, don’t you?”
“Please,” Jensen repeats, hiccupping a sob. “Anything.”
Jared bends over him and settles his elbows on each side of Jensen’s arms, then kisses him long and dirty, sucking at his lower lip, biting it. Jensen is almost delirious with desire now. “Jared,” he whispers. “Jared, Jay, I need…”
“I know, baby,” Jared nods. “We’re going to try something new, and if you don’t like it, you need to let me know, are we clear? If you don’t enjoy yourself, we’ll stop and I won’t think any less of you. Remember your silent safeword? Want you to show it to me.”
Jensen grabs his ear with shaky fingers. He doesn’t care about what’s to come, doesn’t need too, because Jared will take care of everything, like he always does.
“I want you to jerk yourself off. Come on, sweetheart, wrap a hand around your dick. ‘S ’gonna feel so good, won’t it?”
Jensen nods eagerly and cries out when he finally grabs his cock which twitches violently in his grip. He gathers the precome shining at the tip and makes a circle with his thumb and index finger - it’s always been his favorite way of jerking off, the tight but thin hold he gets around his dick is too much and not enough at the same time.
He doesn’t quite remember starting, but Jensen finds himself jacking up and down his shaft, quickly, panting gruffly and freely. Jared seems content to just stay there and look at him, until he wraps his hands around Jensen’s neck.
Jensen stops for a couple a seconds, unsure.
“Did I tell you you could stop?” Jared asks calmly.
Jensen picks up the rhythm automatically. And Jared’s hands start pressing, only lightly at first, but then, the pressure increases, and Jensen can only take quick, superficial breaths. The panic he first feels when his air passage is constricted only lasts for a second, because Jared is still calm and in control, Jared says he’s going to take care of him, not to worry, he’s got him.
And Jensen believes him. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain. He sees bright, tiny spots flashing before his eyes. Can’t breathe, he thinks, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, and just when he’s about to grab his ear, Jared’s hands stop pressing. The big gulp of air Jensen then takes in is heavenly, it goes straight to his cock, to his balls, and the evergrowing ball of heat low in his guts starts pulsing. He needs this again, he needs this, he’s going to come. He doesn’t know if he only thinks it or if he is actually saying the words.. Doesn’t care.
Jared’s hands are tightening again around his throat. Jensen wants to cry out at how good it feels but he can’t, the pressure is too much. He shakes and curls his toes and jacks his cock almost frantically, wishing for this to never stop, and then the air can’t get through, and he barely has the time to think he’s choking before a violent, sudden orgasm explodes in himself, out of him, taking over his body and mind, dragging itself so long, it’s like it will never stop, and Jensen shakes and cries and writes on the bed, his hand covered in sperm, his vision blurry…
And then he can breathe, and he does until he’s dizzy with it, only concentrating on coming down from his orgasm and breathing. So good.
The air burns a little, then fills his lungs in the most delicious way. Fuck, he can’t remember coming so hard in his life, hard enough to burst into tears all over again, letting go, finally letting go of everything.
“You are amazing.”
Jared’s voice comes back to him like a distorted echo. He’s everywhere, in the intense smell of their combined body fluids, in Jensen’s blurry vision, his body large and warm covering him, protecting him.
“You did so good, Jensen, so good. I’m so proud of you,” Jared adds, running his fingers through Jensen’s wet hair.
Jensen nods. He’s exhausted, his mind is empty, his body heavy, and thrumming with the last sparks of pleasure. He’s at peace with himself and the world.
::: :::
Jensen groans in surprise when he feels the warm cloth sliding on his stomach. He doesn’t move, though, lets the first shocked feeling shift into one of comfort. The cloth is warm and soft against the sensitive skin of his still plump dick, against his clenching hole. A sure hand parts his legs. He groans again, offering no resistance, but no help either. He hears a chuckle.
“You’re like a sleepy baby,” Jared adds, kissing the now clean skin below his navel.
“Shuddup,” Jensen croaks. His throat is a little sore. He tries to clear it, opening one lazy eye and looking at Jared. “So… That was new.”
“Yeah,” Jared trails off, throwing the washcloth on a pile of dirty shirts. “Are you okay?”
“I’m more than okay.”
The slight frown of worry that was creasing Jared’s forehead disappears. He lies down next to Jensen and props himself on one elbow, squirting something in his free hand.
“Wa’s this?”
“Aloe. Let me…”
Jensen smiles and hums in his throat while Jared carefully spreads the calming, cool liquid on the skin of his neck. The sensation is wonderful. His eyes close again. He’s so lax and spent, feels like he’s just going to sink into the mattress.
“How do you feel?” Jared asks.
“Like I want to sleep for a week,” Jensen mumbles.
“Your throat sounds sore. I could make you some tea.”
“When we wake up,” Jensen agrees, tucking himself against Jared. “With honey, alright?”
“Alright.”
Jared pulls the comforter over the both of them, and then it’s warm and it’s all Jared again, like this place and moment, right now, are all that Jensen needs to know and be.
“Should take some time off work,” he slurs as an afterthought. He’s drifting off.
“Yeah, you should. It’s been a long time.”
Jared’s voice is coaxing and sweet like Jensen’s personal lullaby. He wraps one arm around Jensen’s shoulders, holding him close. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Jensen doesn’t even know what there’s to talk about. He’s over-stressed, working the ER is tough, the shifts are long, and he hasn’t even taken a week off since last summer.
Everything is so simple and clear after one of their sessions. He doesn’t even know why he denied himself this for so long.
He’s about to let sleep take him when something pops in his mind, something that seems important enough to make the effort to speak.
“I don’t really mind you leaving your socks all over the place,” he lets out in a breath.
There’s a light chuckle that shakes Jared’s chest, then his warm lips on the tip of Jensen’s nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”
Fin
This way to the next part
-- -- --
Title: The Art of Letting Go
Pairing:J2
Word count: 3500
Summary: Sequel to a moment out of time and life which is totally unecessary to read first if you don't want to. Basically, sometimes Jensen just needs to let go.
Warnings:NC-17, PWP, breath-play, fingering, dirty talk, light d/s, aftercare, sub!Jensen, dom!Jared.
Disclaimer: None fo this is true.
Thanks to: ashtraythieffor putting up with me, since I had kind of forgotten I had to write this, and then ask a beta to look at it. RL, you know... Anyway, she was kind enough to lend me her beta reader, the fantastic linvro21 who beta'd this story for me in a record time and to whom I am forever in debts. Thank you so, so much to the both of you.
A/N: This is officially a verse. Confetti! It's a parade!
He’s been fighting it for five days, the need and the frustration and the anger and the shame. These emotions are tangled so tight together, he can barely untangle them anymore.
It’s stupid, that’s what it is. He shouldn’t need this. He’s a grown man, damn it.
One day, Jared will realize how weak and stupid Jensen is. It’s a matter of time.
Times like these, Jensen has a hard time believing that his husband really wants and needs this as much as him. It’s never the same afterward.
Sometimes, it goes on for weeks without Jensen feeling any anxiety. Feeling in control, loved and cared for.
Then the feeling comes back. Something happens, most of the time at work, and it starts, and Jensen can’t do anything to stop it. And then the reality comes back to hit him in the face. How can Jared love this part of him, how can he desire Jensen that way?
So he waits. He waits until he’s ready to burst, waits until he yells at someone who doesn’t deserve it and hates himself even more.
And the worst, now that they’ve been playing this game for quite some time, is that Jared knows this. He knows how Jensen feels, what he craves, and he waits for his fucked up husband to ask for it.
It’s easy enough. “I need it,” is what Jensen says most of the time. He doesn’t even have to look at Jared in the eyes. Just letting out those threelittle words and everything, the hurt and the pain, the anger he feels toward himself -everything would go away, Jensen can lose himself in Jared’s embrace and leave everything to him.
Jensen just can’t.
He’s roaming in the living room, picking up books and discarded magazines, putting them in neat piles, then doing the same with the DVD’s boxes, the video-games, and fuck, Jared’s dirty socks tucked under the couch.
His husband is drinking a beer, watching the nine PM news on the TV, barely noticing him. Jensen hates it. He wants Jared to see how frustrated he is, how restless. He wants to be his husband’s center of attention right here and now. He wants Jared not so see anything except him.
Fuck, he needs it so bad. The game.
Instead of asking for it, though, he starts to rant about house chores and that he’s tired, and that Jared should pick up his stuff and stop leaving it everywhere, and how hard can it be to put his freaking dirty socks in the laundry basket, huh?
None of this is fair. Jared doesn’t even try to protest, though. He just puts his beer on the table beside him and turns off the TV. He’s unreasonably calm, and this attitude right there is only feeding the fire burning in the pit of Jensen’s stomach.
“So, you’re not gonna say anything?” he spits, like he’s just accused Jared of the most despicable crimes without him even flinching.
“Jensen, what’s this really about?” Jared asks in the same stupidly calm voice.
“It’s about you taking your fucking responsibilities,” Jensen replies.
Why do I have to ask? Is what he means. Of course. It doesn’t change anything, though. Tears of frustration and anger swell in his eyes and he leaves the living room before he starts crying like the wuss he is. He heads for the bathroom with the freaking socks in one hand, and drops them in the laundry basket, then he lets himself sink to the floor, his back against the bathtub, and tries to slow down his breathing, tries to will the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes to go back from where they came.
Then suddenly, like he’s skipped five minutes forward in the future, Jared is there,crouching in front of him.
“Jensen. Let’s say… We make an exception, okay? I can see that you need it, and it seems cruel to just ignore you until you’re ready to ask for it.”
Jensen swears under his breath. He can’t bring himself to look at Jared right now. “ ‘M not supposed to need this,” he croaks.
“Why not?”
“ ‘cause it’s… It isn’t normal, Jay. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong. It’s your way to alleviate the pressure. Damn it, Jensen, you’re not drinking yourself to death or anything as bad, you just want to let go sometimes, and believe me, if we can both find what we need in this, it’s not a bad thing, it’s a freaking fantastic way to deal. You should recommend it to your patients.”
Jensen snorts despite himself. Why does everything seem so big and dramatic just before he gives in, why does he do this to himself? They haven’t even started yet, and he’s already stiffening in the confines of his jeans.
“Now, I want you to take a shower, and then join me in the bedroom,” Jared tells him in this particular tone that gets Jensen to blush and shiver, because now the game is starting, and he’s so relieved he could cry.
::: :::
When Jensen enters the bedroom, Jared waits for him sitting on the bed. The lights are turned down and the temperature is nice and warm. Jensen’s dick is tenting his towel, in anticipation. He has so much trouble exposing himself to Jared like this, when his husband is all dressed up and ready to take the reins, so much trouble, but so much want burning inside him, already replacing the anger.
Angershameneedfrustration.
He’s getting there, not quite but almost.
He waits.
“Safeword?” Jared asks.
“Dandelions.”
“Okay, but you’ll need a safe-sign as well, because I want to try something and I’m not sure you’ll be able to speak,” Jared adds, his voice gruff and his eyes hungry.
Jensen suddenly feels hot all over. God, he wants this. Needs this.
“Want me to touch my ear? Like a baseball sign?” he half jokes.
“Show me.”
Jensen grabs his right earlobe between his thumb and his index finger.
“Alright,” Jared nods. “Now drop the towel and come lie down on the bed, on your back. “
The trust Jensen feels toward him scares him sometimes, but it’s thrilling as well. He lets the towel fall onto the floor, the fabric, scratchy from too many laundry cycles, brushes against his sensitive cock. He feels it, heavy between his legs, he feels it as much as he feels the desire beaming from Jared. His husband stands up and turns down the comforter without taking his eyes away from Jensen.
“Look at you,” he whispers.
Jensen blushes, again. He doesn’t know how to respond to praise, never has, so he simply climbs on the bed and crawls to the middle on all fours, then settles onto his back. Jared hovers right over him with the tube of lubricant already opened.
“Give me your fingers,” he asks, and that is new. Usually, Jensen is more passive during their game, relishing in the sensation of letting go, leaving it all to Jared. He feels insecure, suddenly, not knowing what’s about to come.
“Stop thinking so hard and do as I say,” Jared orders firmly.
And Jensen does, feeling his cock hardening a little more. Obeying, not questioning.
Jared coats his fingers with lube and sits on the bed. “Now, open yourself up for my cock. Don’t want you to hold back anything, want to hear if it feels good, alright?”
Jensen can’t hold Jared’s attentive gaze for too long. He feels his anal muscle twitching in anticipation already. He takes a deep breath and bends his legs, then starts rubbing the lube all over his hole, not waiting for too long before he slides the tip of a finger inside. When he dares to cast a quick look at Jared, he sees the intensity of his gaze, the concentration, and he feels ashamed and exposed, and it excites him, he wants this, wants to moan like a slut while he finger-fucks himself, abandoning any pretense of not getting off on this.
A whimper escapse his lips. Jared coaxes him, rubbing soothing circles on Jensen’s tense stomach. “That’s good, baby, go on.”
And Jensen loves the praise, needs it. He’s getting to a rhythm, two fingers sliding in and out, stretching his hole, grazing at his prostate, which triggers the first drops of precome to bubble at the slit of his dick, sticky and wet, sliding on his stomach. He keens in a high pitched voice he barely recognizes, his hips start to lift off the mattress, and he sweats, and shakes, and all he can think of is that Jared is looking at him, Jared wants him to do this and god he wants to be good, wants to give up any conscious thought and just feel.
“Enough,” Jared says suddenly.
Jensen stops, keeping his fingers shoved deep in his hole, waiting, his eyes closed shut, wanting and seeking the release already.
“Look at me,” Jared adds.
It’s hard, because in the back of his mind, there’s this stern, logical voice telling him he must look debauched and ridiculous, losing himself to pleasure like this, but it soon fades off when he opens his eyes and sees Jared completely naked, kneeling between his legs. Jensen blushes so hard he feels the blood pounding in his ears, and instead of shame, a sensation of contentment blooms in his chest, seeing the love and wonder in Jared’s eyes.
He’s good, he can be good for Jared. Just the thought makes his balls harden and draw up toward his dick. “Jared,” he cries.
“What? Ready to take my cock, baby? Want you to bend your knees and keep your legs open, hold on to them, don’t let go, alright?”
Jensen nods eagerly, not caring anymore about what he must look like, his hole twitching, sloppy and loose from the fingering. Soon enough, Jared aligns himself, his long and thick dick looking too big, always too big, and the delicious burn when he finally breaches the first ring of muscle is almost too much for Jensen who’s panting harshly, moaning on each exhale.
“So good for me, taking me, just taking it,” Jared groans when he finally bottoms out. “Don’t move, baby, let me do all the work.
Jensen nods eagerly, and Jared doesn’t wait anymore, before he puts both hands on the mattress on each side of Jensen’s stomach and begins a punishing rhythm, sliding in and out hard and fast, dragging long whimpers and punched out “oh’s” from Jensen. He feels himself moving up and down the bed sheet, burning all over from the pleasure and desire. He doesn’t control anything, just takes it and loves it, because Jared keeps looking at him, murmuring constant praise about how well Jensen is taking it, how good he is, how turned on it gets Jared to see him like this.
Jensen’s vision has reduced to only Jared’s face, red and shining with sweat, and he drinks everything in, louder than he ever was, needing to come so bad but ready to wait as long as Jared wants him to.
It doesn’t seem to be the goal of the game today, though, one of those times where Jared brings him to the brink of orgasm again and again, until Jensen is a panting, needy mess begging for release. No. Jared is fucking him hard and steady, and soon enough his rhythm falters, he’s about to come, Jensen knows, and when his husband asks him in a choked voice to constrict his muscles as hard as he can, he knows that it’s going to be over soon. But he obediently clenches his inner muscles, and Jared shoves one last time, deep inside of him before he’s coming, his powerful body wracked with shivers, the tensed muscles of his stomach and chest twitching.
It’s good, feeling the warm semen filling him, and Jensen wants to come so bad, doesn’t know when he’ll be allowed. The uncertainty and absence of control are a sweet torture that Jensen wants to be submitted to, needs to.
“Let go of your knees,” Jared tells him right after he slides out of him. The loss, the feeling of emptiness strikes Jensen hard. He feels tears welling up in his eyes and sliding down his cheeks.
“Please,” he murmurs. “Please.”
“It’s okay, baby, m’ gonna take care of you,” Jared murmurs, kissing his forehead and cheeks, the tip of his nose, softly, a barely there tingling sensation.
Jared traps Jensen’s legs between his thighs and sits back. He drags a finger under Jensen’s swollen, angry pink cock, smiling softly when it jerks upward. “You need it bad, don’t you?”
“Please,” Jensen repeats, hiccupping a sob. “Anything.”
Jared bends over him and settles his elbows on each side of Jensen’s arms, then kisses him long and dirty, sucking at his lower lip, biting it. Jensen is almost delirious with desire now. “Jared,” he whispers. “Jared, Jay, I need…”
“I know, baby,” Jared nods. “We’re going to try something new, and if you don’t like it, you need to let me know, are we clear? If you don’t enjoy yourself, we’ll stop and I won’t think any less of you. Remember your silent safeword? Want you to show it to me.”
Jensen grabs his ear with shaky fingers. He doesn’t care about what’s to come, doesn’t need too, because Jared will take care of everything, like he always does.
“I want you to jerk yourself off. Come on, sweetheart, wrap a hand around your dick. ‘S ’gonna feel so good, won’t it?”
Jensen nods eagerly and cries out when he finally grabs his cock which twitches violently in his grip. He gathers the precome shining at the tip and makes a circle with his thumb and index finger - it’s always been his favorite way of jerking off, the tight but thin hold he gets around his dick is too much and not enough at the same time.
He doesn’t quite remember starting, but Jensen finds himself jacking up and down his shaft, quickly, panting gruffly and freely. Jared seems content to just stay there and look at him, until he wraps his hands around Jensen’s neck.
Jensen stops for a couple a seconds, unsure.
“Did I tell you you could stop?” Jared asks calmly.
Jensen picks up the rhythm automatically. And Jared’s hands start pressing, only lightly at first, but then, the pressure increases, and Jensen can only take quick, superficial breaths. The panic he first feels when his air passage is constricted only lasts for a second, because Jared is still calm and in control, Jared says he’s going to take care of him, not to worry, he’s got him.
And Jensen believes him. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain. He sees bright, tiny spots flashing before his eyes. Can’t breathe, he thinks, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, and just when he’s about to grab his ear, Jared’s hands stop pressing. The big gulp of air Jensen then takes in is heavenly, it goes straight to his cock, to his balls, and the evergrowing ball of heat low in his guts starts pulsing. He needs this again, he needs this, he’s going to come. He doesn’t know if he only thinks it or if he is actually saying the words.. Doesn’t care.
Jared’s hands are tightening again around his throat. Jensen wants to cry out at how good it feels but he can’t, the pressure is too much. He shakes and curls his toes and jacks his cock almost frantically, wishing for this to never stop, and then the air can’t get through, and he barely has the time to think he’s choking before a violent, sudden orgasm explodes in himself, out of him, taking over his body and mind, dragging itself so long, it’s like it will never stop, and Jensen shakes and cries and writes on the bed, his hand covered in sperm, his vision blurry…
And then he can breathe, and he does until he’s dizzy with it, only concentrating on coming down from his orgasm and breathing. So good.
The air burns a little, then fills his lungs in the most delicious way. Fuck, he can’t remember coming so hard in his life, hard enough to burst into tears all over again, letting go, finally letting go of everything.
“You are amazing.”
Jared’s voice comes back to him like a distorted echo. He’s everywhere, in the intense smell of their combined body fluids, in Jensen’s blurry vision, his body large and warm covering him, protecting him.
“You did so good, Jensen, so good. I’m so proud of you,” Jared adds, running his fingers through Jensen’s wet hair.
Jensen nods. He’s exhausted, his mind is empty, his body heavy, and thrumming with the last sparks of pleasure. He’s at peace with himself and the world.
::: :::
Jensen groans in surprise when he feels the warm cloth sliding on his stomach. He doesn’t move, though, lets the first shocked feeling shift into one of comfort. The cloth is warm and soft against the sensitive skin of his still plump dick, against his clenching hole. A sure hand parts his legs. He groans again, offering no resistance, but no help either. He hears a chuckle.
“You’re like a sleepy baby,” Jared adds, kissing the now clean skin below his navel.
“Shuddup,” Jensen croaks. His throat is a little sore. He tries to clear it, opening one lazy eye and looking at Jared. “So… That was new.”
“Yeah,” Jared trails off, throwing the washcloth on a pile of dirty shirts. “Are you okay?”
“I’m more than okay.”
The slight frown of worry that was creasing Jared’s forehead disappears. He lies down next to Jensen and props himself on one elbow, squirting something in his free hand.
“Wa’s this?”
“Aloe. Let me…”
Jensen smiles and hums in his throat while Jared carefully spreads the calming, cool liquid on the skin of his neck. The sensation is wonderful. His eyes close again. He’s so lax and spent, feels like he’s just going to sink into the mattress.
“How do you feel?” Jared asks.
“Like I want to sleep for a week,” Jensen mumbles.
“Your throat sounds sore. I could make you some tea.”
“When we wake up,” Jensen agrees, tucking himself against Jared. “With honey, alright?”
“Alright.”
Jared pulls the comforter over the both of them, and then it’s warm and it’s all Jared again, like this place and moment, right now, are all that Jensen needs to know and be.
“Should take some time off work,” he slurs as an afterthought. He’s drifting off.
“Yeah, you should. It’s been a long time.”
Jared’s voice is coaxing and sweet like Jensen’s personal lullaby. He wraps one arm around Jensen’s shoulders, holding him close. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Jensen doesn’t even know what there’s to talk about. He’s over-stressed, working the ER is tough, the shifts are long, and he hasn’t even taken a week off since last summer.
Everything is so simple and clear after one of their sessions. He doesn’t even know why he denied himself this for so long.
He’s about to let sleep take him when something pops in his mind, something that seems important enough to make the effort to speak.
“I don’t really mind you leaving your socks all over the place,” he lets out in a breath.
There’s a light chuckle that shakes Jared’s chest, then his warm lips on the tip of Jensen’s nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”
Fin
This way to the next part
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