Fic: That Celibacy Thing
Title: That Celibacy Thing
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17.
Warning: Pretty much crack.
Word Count: 4000
Prompt: Wendy: For Jared's birthday: Jared wants to stay celibate during shooting of the first S3 episode. Jensen convinces him to break that vow.
AN: A whackjob attempt at humor, and a few pre-emptive apologies if this offends anybody who is celibate. The furniture Jensen buys is Here (site probably nsfw), just without the crazy lady on it. Don't ask me how he got THAT into the trunk of his car. Also, thank you, as always, to ninjetti75 who simply asked 'what ARE you writing' and then got to steady helping, as always. Erm, I think this would be a happy birthday, but then again, I'm warped.
July 7, 2007: 10:14 AM.
Jensen’s had five cups of coffee since he got into town, two at the airport, one on the way to Jared’s apartment and two more in Jared’s kitchen. It doesn’t mean, though, that he isn’t on his couch, watching some odd Canadian one shot of Dora the Explorer, on TV.
“Don’t disturb me unless it’s for sex,” Jensen groans, face first into a pillow. Or Sadie, Jensen’s not sure which one. They all kind of look gold, anyway, when Jensen’s this tired.
“Uh, about that,” Jared says. “I…decided something and kinda forgot to tell you.”
Jensen drags his face from Jared’s sofa, looking up at him. “What?”
“I kinda want to not…have sex with you until the first episode?” Jared says.
Jensen’s eyes widen, mouth kind of open. “Is that a question or a statement?”
“Fuck.” Jared groans.
“Yes, Jared. That’s what we’re talking about,” Jensen nods. “You want to keep your legs closed until we finish filming the first episode, right?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to explain.”
“But what about me? And what about your birthday?” Jensen asks.
“It’s before we finish filming, so…you’ll just have to think about a better present,” Jared says. “And besides, it’ll do wonders for your stamina.”
Jensen collapses back down to the sofa, whining. “You’re mean, and I wanna get laid.”
“You telling me you can’t wait for a few weeks, Jensen?” Jared teases.
“I came home and thought I was going to get some ass,” Jensen pouts. “You’ll owe me when you start putting out again.”
“I know I will, Jen,” Jared nods.
Jensen just buries his face into the pillow. Or Sadie. Whatever. His muffled scream is really, really shrill, anyway.
July 12, 2007: 10:50 PM.
Jensen sits back, lips wet, shirt tight, and jeans. He knows how hot he looks, spread out on the bed. He’s hard under the denim, and it’s hard to believe that Jared won’t look at him like this and instantly want it.
“Jared,” Jensen groans. “You know I’ve been wanting you to suck my cock since Texas, right?”
Jared leans against the doorsill, smug. “I know what you’re trying to get me to do, Jen.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?” Jensen asks, licking his lips.
“You’re trying to get me to have sex with you,” Jared says. “Celibate is celibate, Jensen. Gonna have to get off with your hand, Jen.”
Jensen pouts, “You could watch, if you like, since you’re being all self-righteous and all about it.”
“I could, but I won’t,” Jared says, simply. “Gonna go take a cold shower.”
“Yeah you are,” Jensen grins, leans back and slides his hand down his pants. “You have fun with that, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Jared grumbles, the door slamming behind him.
July 13, 2007: 5:20 PM.
Yes, Jared is celibate, and that means that Jensen’s got two options. One is to be celibate, too and the other is to stick around with a hand for his boyfriend and to be frank, Jensen’s been doing that for way too long, anyway. Seeing as option two just makes Jensen seem pitiful, Jensen decides to pick option one.
Because he’s celibate by association, now, the way Jensen copes is simple.
He just seems to forget where his clothes are.
“Could you, like, put something on?” Jared asks, looking at Jensen standing there naked and proud. “Sometimes I think that if you pitched it to Eric, even he’d let you do this naked thing on set.”
“That’s a good idea, actually,” Jensen shrugs. “I mean, hey. It’s not like I’m the person who wanted to stop with the sex.”
“I’m not asking you to like it,” Jared says. “I’m asking you to put some clothes on. I’m cooking.”
Jensen stands away from the kitchen counter, a frilly pink flower skirt apron around his waist, his erection a tent in the Suzy homemaker linen. “I think this counts, don’t you?”
Jared’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his head.
July 15, 2007: 2:15 AM.
Jared’s been asking for it, so Jensen turns up the temperature up to eighty and lounges around the house, so that when Jared returns to the house after walking the dogs, there’s just a little sheen of sweat on Jensen’s skin.
He leaves condoms and half used lube bottles everywhere, like he’s readying a good defense for a sexual coup in the next couple days, and there’s a long dildo suction-cupped to the mirror to make it look like Jared’s got a cock in his face when he goes to brush his teeth. There’s a florescent orange dildo with vibrations so hard they make the damn thing jump clear in the air in the middle of Jensen’s bedstead, and a box of rope and a crop with happy birthday stenciled out and a big bow on the top in the closet in case Jared goes looking.
There’s a bag full of candles in the closet, too. And a liberator groove pillow in the back of his car, where he knows Jared will go looking.
“What do you want to eat for your birthday dinner?” Jensen asks Jared, while they’re sitting in bed. “Or maybe you want a birthday breakfast, you know? Make you banana pancakes, sing like I’m Jack Johnson, fuck you like I’m Ron Jeremy but far better looking, you know.”
“Cheezy,” Jared groans, “Not going to give it up on my birthday, Jensen.”
“I’m sure,” Jensen grins. “But then again, I expected to take it, anyway.”
“Hot,” Jared murmurs passively, and Jensen almost sparkles. “Listen, I just want some good steak, a few beers, and a good present. One that’s expensive. And impressive. A rolex, some Air Forces, one of those swank designer shirts you’ve been strutting up and down around LA in, preferably pink.”
“You and your fashion sense,” Jensen sighs.
“You love it, now shut the fuck up and go to bed.”
“Can I at least get a kiss?”
“No.”
“Prude,” Jensen says.
“Hussy.”
“I resent that, sir.”
“I like it when you call me sir,” Jared says, biting his lip.
“I’m going to sleep now. Sir.”
July 16, 2007: 5:00 AM.
“That better not be your erection,” Jared groans, wiggling away from Jensen in his sexless, flannel pajamas.
Jensen just grins.
July 18, 2007: 3:00 PM.
Sitting in the read-through again for the first time is intense, Jensen thinks. It’s just a bunch of people in a room reading through the first episode, and then moving to set and blocking and maybe Jared was right about that whole celibacy thing, because it would undoubtedly be written across Jensen’s face if he had been able to take Jared the way he wants. He grins and focuses, trying not to think about how Jared’s watching him float around the room, clutching a cup of coffee and trying to be social. Filming starts next week and when Jensen’s honest with himself, he knows that if he can’t get Jared to give it up in the next few days, he’s going to be stuck waiting another few weeks.
Jensen did buy Jared a real gift. No, really. Cowboy boots fresh imported from Texas, brand new and pretty ones with airbrush over the stitching, outlining a sweet kittenish cowgirl with generous curves and serious tits. And a cake that has candy all over it, especially little penises made out of spun sugar, just to remind Jared of the pain he’s obviously causing Jensen over this. And that’s not even mentioning the abhorrent pink shirt that’s very obviously been nicked from a photo shoot Jensen did because there’s no way in hell that Jensen would even be caught buying it.
“What’s this?” Jared asks, finding the box with the rope and the crop in it, and Jensen crosses his arms and looks at Jared with his lips pressed together and head on an angle like he’s the dictionary definition of pissed; an old joke from Valerie and Jessica and Dark Angel itself.
“That’s what I was going to give you before I came home and heard about your no sex rule,” Jensen says. “If I was going to LA anytime soon, I’d return it, you know.”
“How you got a crop past airport security, I’m almost a little afraid to know,” Jared says, wearily. “Look, I’m sorry I’m doing this to you.”
“No you aren’t,” Jensen snaps.
“Okay, you caught me,” Jared grins like a little kid, holding the bunch of rope in one hand and a crop in the other. “But this is a little childish, don’t you think?”
“You think that’s childish?” Jensen says, flatly. “You don’t know how childish I can be, short stuff.”
Jared snorts, uses the crop to thwack Jensen on one ass cheek, and grins. “Have patience.”
“Patience is for losers,” Jensen snorts, and leaves the room. “’M gonna go jack off, if it doesn’t make any difference to you.”
When Jared walks into the living room, Jensen’s hard, but he’s reading the newspaper at the table and hasn’t done anything.
As much as Jared’s been serious about this, Jensen’s just waiting for Jared’s birthday, and then it’ll be time to play.
July 19, 2007: 9:40 AM.
Jared’s away at his fitting for the show, and Jensen makes an early return to the apartment, getting everything ready. He closes the blinds, and takes a shower, sends the dogs out to the balcony with enough food and water for mostly a week.
Jensen wonders about if he can dismantle Jared’s resolve on this so quickly, but in the end, Jensen trusts himself enough to at least banter and enough resolve to keep going.
So he pulls out the gifts and spreads out the candles and arranges all his pieces in the bedroom (including that huge sex chaise that’s been hiding in his sedan for the past 10 days, just itching to be used the way it was meant to, all snap buckles and cuffs and sensual curves that could bend and shape Jared into anything Jensen wants) like a pornographic version of Saw, like a torturer arranging his scalpels and essential scratchy-things and pliers, and in all honesty, he’s sure he can make Jared come at least once whether or not Jared expects it.
Sure, there are porterhouses and everything waiting in the fridge, marinating since last night, but Jensen’s planning to make sure they don’t eat for a good long while, and making sure that Jared really gets to enjoy his presents. All that reserve built up, Jensen’s first goal is to make Jared come so hard his ears ring, but that doesn’t mean there’s not going to be an all out attack on Jared’s senses. Jensen’s got enough to make sure of that.
July 19, 2007: 12:30 PM.
It’s just after lunch when Jared gets back, and Jensen’s got everything all covered in the bedroom, like he’s daring Jared to peek under wrapping paper and sheets. Jensen’s re-stringing his guitar, looping, tightening, turning.
“Wow,” Jared says, looking at Jensen, licking his lips. “You found your clothes, then.”
“I did,” Jensen nods, “a whole wardrobe of them, like they realized how hot I had become or something, you know?”
Jared grins. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“So,” Jensen leads on, still stringing his guitar. “You gonna just stand over there all night?”
“I suppose not,” Jared says, sitting down next to Jensen, easing back into the sofa.
“Enjoying twenty-five, yet?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah, but I could be enjoying it a lot more,” Jared sighs.
“Really?” Jensen asks, but Jared doesn’t answer more than pulling Jensen’s lips onto his. Jensen drops the guitar onto the floor, and climbs on top of Jared, taking a little control. A slide of lips opens Jared’s mouth, and Jared strains up at the meeting of their tongues. Jensen’s hands are everywhere, and when they separate what feels like twenty minutes later, there’s still sweet friction, hips moving and hands sliding into Jared’s hair, lips trailing kisses like string on Jared’s neck. Jared’s hands are tangled in Jensen’s shirt, in his jeans, in the upholstery of the couch and the back of Jensen’s neck. They’re a machine, moving and stroking together, tight and hard, Eyes flutter, there’s a tight gasp between them. It’s hard to realize how much he really missed passing through Jared’s personal space until both of them felt honestly together, and now that Jensen can feel it first hand in Jared’s erection as he grinds down on it, he never wants to let it go.
Suddenly Jared’s stopping him with shaking hands and pulling at his shirt.
“What’s wrong?” Jensen asks.
“I…” Jared stops, smiles happily. “I just came, for the first time all summer, and it was in my pants.”
Jensen’s side eventually hurts from laughing too hard.
July 19, 2007: 2:50 PM.
Jared wears nothing but a wifebeater and the velcro restraints that match up with the furniture. He scoffs at them first (“Hey, Jen, you gonna buckle me to the bed?”) but when Jensen peels back the sheet covering the new piece of furniture in the room, Jared quickly shuts up.
“And you thought we were gonna use a bed,” Jensen grins, pushing Jared down on his back, letting the larger arc push into his back as his legs stick out. Jared looks a bit odd balled up on it, but that’s okay, given the fact that he’s going to be buckled down in a second, All tied up and twisted in knots that he can’t undo himself because, hey, try shimming out of Velcro.
“Jensen,” Jared warns when Jensen bends Jared’s knee next to his shoulders and buckles his ankles down by his head, “I don’t bend this way.”
“Maybe it’s time you started,” Jensen remarks, snapping him tight into place. “You’re still young, you can handle a little stress.”
“Fuck,” Jared said, one arm getting pulled down and snapped into place, so Jensen can settle down and run his hand over Jared’s pried open ass. A little lube, and one finger breaches Jared, seeking out only one thing. Jensen watches as Jared moans and struggles, finding that the bondage is tighter than it originally seemed. The foam supports his back, though, so Jensen’s sure that the position isn’t too strenuous.
“So, if you’ve been celibate for the past few months, I’m guessing you’ve had absolutely nothing in your ass for a while, right?” Jensen asks.
“No, it’s really been a highway, actually,” Jared says, sarcastically. “Of course I haven’t put anything in it, Jen.”
“Sarcasm is the sign of a wounded creature, Padalecki,” Jensen says.
“Put your teeth back in, old man,” Jared counters, and Jensen rests a hand at his throat curiously.
“Funny how you got all full of piss and vinegar when I decided to tie you down,” Jensen comments, sliding a second finger in along the first and watching Jared arch when Jensen grazes against his prostate. “Oh, that quieted you up real nice, didn’t it?”
“Fuck you,” Jared hisses.
“That’s the plan,” Jensen nods. “Thank you, though, for not struggling too much. Hate for you to ruin your birthday by ripping up your present the day you get it.”
“You mean this is my present, Jen?” Jared asks, “How incredibly tacky.”
Jensen’s mouth goes tight and he strokes across Jared’s prostate again just to make sure he gets the point as to who is in charge. “Got you a cake and all that other normal stuff, an ugly shirt, some boots.”
“Really?”
“I had to have a backup plan in case you were actually serious about that celibacy thing, you know,” Jensen reasons, and pulls his fingers away so his mouth can explore, tight circles and then easy flicks of tongue, pulling and holding his cock and balls out the way. The smell of Jared’s skin is intoxicating all over, be it down in the crack of his ass or along the plains of his torso, and the wifebeater smells of soap and body spray. It’s all out euphoria, the way it blends together, Sandalwood and spice and skin. Jared groans, and Jensen breaches in with his tongue, smacking his lips at the teeth before he tries to go deeper. Jared tries to arch up, present himself even more than his position gives, back lifting clear off the foam, and Jensen has to pull away to see how Jared looks while he’s struggling.
“I-oh god, Jen, baby do that again- I was serious about the whole celibacy thing,” Jared groans.
“Sure you were, sweetheart.” Jensen coos, and returns with three fingers and the tip of his tongue at the fringed edge of Jared’s entrance, like he’s trying to numb Jared up for the fourth. Now there’s an idea Jensen will have to remember for later.
“No, really. Read about it in a book and really wanted to, you know, try it. It does wonders for your libido, supposedly. And, uh, I kinda had a bet going,” Jared says.
“You’re lying,” Jensen grins, pinkie flirting its way in idly. Jared writhes a little bit and tries not to blush.
“No, I did,” Jared nods. “With…”
“I don’t even want to know,” Jensen smiles. “I’ll make it up to you. If you lost, you know. And if you didn’t, well, then I’d say you owe me big time.”
“Jen, I want you fucking me. Do I have to be a walking cliché and pout and beg for your cock to be inside me?” Jared asks.
“Say please?” Jensen commands, grinning as Jared rolls his eyes.
“O-kay, Please fuck me, Jensen,” Jared sighs.
“Say ‘pretty please with sugar on top’ and that I’m the king of your ass. And, you know, act like you mean it,” Jensen smiles, the head of his cock sliding in and pulling back out like it’s meant to tease.
“I cannot believe I’m tied down to a piece of sex furniture on my twenty fifth birthday with someone who just broke my vow of celibacy for me, and he wants me to call him the king of my ass and say ‘pretty please with sugar on top.’ I didn’t know you needed a daily orgasm to keep your sanity in check, Jen,” Jared sighs. “Do you want me to say anything else?”
“Not right now,” Jensen says, and prepares himself with a hand at the base of his cock. “You gonna suck me off after you eat your cake and unwrap my presents?”
“Jen,” Jared says, and Jensen slips in, inch by little inch until he’s home. Jared’s tight, partially because of the lack of use, and partially because of this impossible position that he’s in, all sprawled out and fucked nice and hard. “God you’re big.”
“Don’t flatter me, boy,” Jensen says, gruff as he pulls himself out of that heat, smooth like water. Jensen pulls Jared’s head down by the head, as if the boy’s body really needed any more tension, for a kiss. This sofa thing makes it almost humiliatingly easy to just sit back and move, and Jensen knows he’s spent his money well the minute he can feel the head of his cock rake backward over Jared’s prostate. “Might leave you this way.”
A few experimental thrusts, just in case Jensen’s a little rusty around the edges and can’t quite keep himself in check, and then his hips are steady fucking into Jared’s. Jared cheers him on with ‘harder’ and ‘more’ and ‘please’ as Jensen’s cock rows in and out in a lazy rhythm that makes it so easy to switch up the rhythm, to pull Jared into even more knots, to hit every angle Jensen can think of and imagine positions that will probably mean they don’t use the bed as much as they used to. There’s shifting, like the weight of the two of them is buckling and shifting the foam along until he’s backed Jared all the way to the corner, toes touching the wall backwards as they curl.
“Oh god, I think I’m gonna come again, Jen,” Jared warns and Jensen slows his thrusts a little bit, reaching down to kiss Jared on the lips and tangle his fist around Jared’s cock. Long strokes that alternate, the push of Jensen inside to the pull of his hand up Jared’s cock, makes Jared writhe and squeal and try to wrap himself around Jensen even though he can’t. Jared sinks back down into himself as he slides easily through the aftershocks, squeezing and pulsing around Jensen’s cock.
Coming inside of Jared is normally an experience inside itself, insides so slick that Jensen wills himself to stay hard just to enjoy it, even as he can’t. This time, though, is so much hotter simply because he’s got Jared tied down impossibly, head arched backward into the foam as he groans at how hard Jensen’s still fucking him. Jensen hasn’t come since about a week ago, and it’s insane to think of how hard he’s coming right now, because of it. His vision whites out, and he slams home one more time before going off like a fire hose, shaking inside Jared.
When he’s done, he kisses Jared softly, like all the force has been wrung out of him along with his orgasm. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s about right,” Jared nods. “Now, could you get me out of these things?”
“I don’t really feel like it, you know?” Jensen says, laying back on the smaller hump in the lounge. “Kinda like you as a permanent fixture to the furniture.”
“Mmm, Kinky.” The drawl in Jared’s voice sounds like pure sex, like he’s totally back in his own body after an orgasmic vacation that ended up costing him two months. Jensen kind of likes the idea that Jared didn’t even think of touching himself for so long, and he’s kinda worried that he’s ruined the big bang, that it was supposed to help Jared gain some kind of emotional clarity or spiritual wealth or anything else, when Jared wiggles around and ends up kicking Jensen in the head as one of the buckles rips free.
“Ow.”
“You were thinking too hard,” Jared responds. “You good with a needle and thread?”
July 19, 2007: 7:48 PM.
“The cake was good,” Jared says. “Like how you added the candy penises and everything.”
“I was kinda desperate at the time, Jare. I figured that if you didn’t give it up tonight, tomorrow I was going to have to start watching Skinemax on TV,” Jensen grins.
“Thank god it didn’t come to that,” Jared groans. “I would have shot you, eventually. Or put you out the house, whichever was closest.”
“And I mean, come on, have you seen Skinemax, lately?” Jensen says.
“Yes, actually. Whenever I thought I was going to want to jack off, it was nothing a little badly dialogued soft-porn couldn’t solve,” Jared shrugs, finishing his coffee and standing up, wearing nothing but his new cowboy boots. “Now come on. I promised you a good cocksucking, didn’t I?”
“Uhm, you technically didn’t answer. I just accepted that as a ‘Yes,’” Jensen laughs happily.
“Well, C’mon then. You dropped a pretty penny for whatever that big honking bed lounge thing is, we need to put it to good work. And after, you can drag me to bed and fuck me with the boots on, what do you say to that?” Jared asks.
“I thought you thought the big honking bed lounge thing was ‘incredibly tacky,’” Jensen points out. Jared scoffs at that.
“That was before you decided to fuck me into it. You could always do that again, if you wanted.”
Jensen doesn’t even respond, he just gets up, taking Jared by the hand and pulling him back into the bedroom.
July 20, 2007: 5:00 AM.
“That better be your erection,” Jared groans, wiggling into Jensen under the blankets. With a sharp gasp, he just sinks right down, expanding to cradle Jensen’s cock.
Jensen just grins.
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Rating: NC-17.
Warning: Pretty much crack.
Word Count: 4000
Prompt: Wendy: For Jared's birthday: Jared wants to stay celibate during shooting of the first S3 episode. Jensen convinces him to break that vow.
AN: A whackjob attempt at humor, and a few pre-emptive apologies if this offends anybody who is celibate. The furniture Jensen buys is Here (site probably nsfw), just without the crazy lady on it. Don't ask me how he got THAT into the trunk of his car. Also, thank you, as always, to ninjetti75 who simply asked 'what ARE you writing' and then got to steady helping, as always. Erm, I think this would be a happy birthday, but then again, I'm warped.
July 7, 2007: 10:14 AM.
Jensen’s had five cups of coffee since he got into town, two at the airport, one on the way to Jared’s apartment and two more in Jared’s kitchen. It doesn’t mean, though, that he isn’t on his couch, watching some odd Canadian one shot of Dora the Explorer, on TV.
“Don’t disturb me unless it’s for sex,” Jensen groans, face first into a pillow. Or Sadie, Jensen’s not sure which one. They all kind of look gold, anyway, when Jensen’s this tired.
“Uh, about that,” Jared says. “I…decided something and kinda forgot to tell you.”
Jensen drags his face from Jared’s sofa, looking up at him. “What?”
“I kinda want to not…have sex with you until the first episode?” Jared says.
Jensen’s eyes widen, mouth kind of open. “Is that a question or a statement?”
“Fuck.” Jared groans.
“Yes, Jared. That’s what we’re talking about,” Jensen nods. “You want to keep your legs closed until we finish filming the first episode, right?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to explain.”
“But what about me? And what about your birthday?” Jensen asks.
“It’s before we finish filming, so…you’ll just have to think about a better present,” Jared says. “And besides, it’ll do wonders for your stamina.”
Jensen collapses back down to the sofa, whining. “You’re mean, and I wanna get laid.”
“You telling me you can’t wait for a few weeks, Jensen?” Jared teases.
“I came home and thought I was going to get some ass,” Jensen pouts. “You’ll owe me when you start putting out again.”
“I know I will, Jen,” Jared nods.
Jensen just buries his face into the pillow. Or Sadie. Whatever. His muffled scream is really, really shrill, anyway.
July 12, 2007: 10:50 PM.
Jensen sits back, lips wet, shirt tight, and jeans. He knows how hot he looks, spread out on the bed. He’s hard under the denim, and it’s hard to believe that Jared won’t look at him like this and instantly want it.
“Jared,” Jensen groans. “You know I’ve been wanting you to suck my cock since Texas, right?”
Jared leans against the doorsill, smug. “I know what you’re trying to get me to do, Jen.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?” Jensen asks, licking his lips.
“You’re trying to get me to have sex with you,” Jared says. “Celibate is celibate, Jensen. Gonna have to get off with your hand, Jen.”
Jensen pouts, “You could watch, if you like, since you’re being all self-righteous and all about it.”
“I could, but I won’t,” Jared says, simply. “Gonna go take a cold shower.”
“Yeah you are,” Jensen grins, leans back and slides his hand down his pants. “You have fun with that, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Jared grumbles, the door slamming behind him.
July 13, 2007: 5:20 PM.
Yes, Jared is celibate, and that means that Jensen’s got two options. One is to be celibate, too and the other is to stick around with a hand for his boyfriend and to be frank, Jensen’s been doing that for way too long, anyway. Seeing as option two just makes Jensen seem pitiful, Jensen decides to pick option one.
Because he’s celibate by association, now, the way Jensen copes is simple.
He just seems to forget where his clothes are.
“Could you, like, put something on?” Jared asks, looking at Jensen standing there naked and proud. “Sometimes I think that if you pitched it to Eric, even he’d let you do this naked thing on set.”
“That’s a good idea, actually,” Jensen shrugs. “I mean, hey. It’s not like I’m the person who wanted to stop with the sex.”
“I’m not asking you to like it,” Jared says. “I’m asking you to put some clothes on. I’m cooking.”
Jensen stands away from the kitchen counter, a frilly pink flower skirt apron around his waist, his erection a tent in the Suzy homemaker linen. “I think this counts, don’t you?”
Jared’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his head.
July 15, 2007: 2:15 AM.
Jared’s been asking for it, so Jensen turns up the temperature up to eighty and lounges around the house, so that when Jared returns to the house after walking the dogs, there’s just a little sheen of sweat on Jensen’s skin.
He leaves condoms and half used lube bottles everywhere, like he’s readying a good defense for a sexual coup in the next couple days, and there’s a long dildo suction-cupped to the mirror to make it look like Jared’s got a cock in his face when he goes to brush his teeth. There’s a florescent orange dildo with vibrations so hard they make the damn thing jump clear in the air in the middle of Jensen’s bedstead, and a box of rope and a crop with happy birthday stenciled out and a big bow on the top in the closet in case Jared goes looking.
There’s a bag full of candles in the closet, too. And a liberator groove pillow in the back of his car, where he knows Jared will go looking.
“What do you want to eat for your birthday dinner?” Jensen asks Jared, while they’re sitting in bed. “Or maybe you want a birthday breakfast, you know? Make you banana pancakes, sing like I’m Jack Johnson, fuck you like I’m Ron Jeremy but far better looking, you know.”
“Cheezy,” Jared groans, “Not going to give it up on my birthday, Jensen.”
“I’m sure,” Jensen grins. “But then again, I expected to take it, anyway.”
“Hot,” Jared murmurs passively, and Jensen almost sparkles. “Listen, I just want some good steak, a few beers, and a good present. One that’s expensive. And impressive. A rolex, some Air Forces, one of those swank designer shirts you’ve been strutting up and down around LA in, preferably pink.”
“You and your fashion sense,” Jensen sighs.
“You love it, now shut the fuck up and go to bed.”
“Can I at least get a kiss?”
“No.”
“Prude,” Jensen says.
“Hussy.”
“I resent that, sir.”
“I like it when you call me sir,” Jared says, biting his lip.
“I’m going to sleep now. Sir.”
July 16, 2007: 5:00 AM.
“That better not be your erection,” Jared groans, wiggling away from Jensen in his sexless, flannel pajamas.
Jensen just grins.
July 18, 2007: 3:00 PM.
Sitting in the read-through again for the first time is intense, Jensen thinks. It’s just a bunch of people in a room reading through the first episode, and then moving to set and blocking and maybe Jared was right about that whole celibacy thing, because it would undoubtedly be written across Jensen’s face if he had been able to take Jared the way he wants. He grins and focuses, trying not to think about how Jared’s watching him float around the room, clutching a cup of coffee and trying to be social. Filming starts next week and when Jensen’s honest with himself, he knows that if he can’t get Jared to give it up in the next few days, he’s going to be stuck waiting another few weeks.
Jensen did buy Jared a real gift. No, really. Cowboy boots fresh imported from Texas, brand new and pretty ones with airbrush over the stitching, outlining a sweet kittenish cowgirl with generous curves and serious tits. And a cake that has candy all over it, especially little penises made out of spun sugar, just to remind Jared of the pain he’s obviously causing Jensen over this. And that’s not even mentioning the abhorrent pink shirt that’s very obviously been nicked from a photo shoot Jensen did because there’s no way in hell that Jensen would even be caught buying it.
“What’s this?” Jared asks, finding the box with the rope and the crop in it, and Jensen crosses his arms and looks at Jared with his lips pressed together and head on an angle like he’s the dictionary definition of pissed; an old joke from Valerie and Jessica and Dark Angel itself.
“That’s what I was going to give you before I came home and heard about your no sex rule,” Jensen says. “If I was going to LA anytime soon, I’d return it, you know.”
“How you got a crop past airport security, I’m almost a little afraid to know,” Jared says, wearily. “Look, I’m sorry I’m doing this to you.”
“No you aren’t,” Jensen snaps.
“Okay, you caught me,” Jared grins like a little kid, holding the bunch of rope in one hand and a crop in the other. “But this is a little childish, don’t you think?”
“You think that’s childish?” Jensen says, flatly. “You don’t know how childish I can be, short stuff.”
Jared snorts, uses the crop to thwack Jensen on one ass cheek, and grins. “Have patience.”
“Patience is for losers,” Jensen snorts, and leaves the room. “’M gonna go jack off, if it doesn’t make any difference to you.”
When Jared walks into the living room, Jensen’s hard, but he’s reading the newspaper at the table and hasn’t done anything.
As much as Jared’s been serious about this, Jensen’s just waiting for Jared’s birthday, and then it’ll be time to play.
July 19, 2007: 9:40 AM.
Jared’s away at his fitting for the show, and Jensen makes an early return to the apartment, getting everything ready. He closes the blinds, and takes a shower, sends the dogs out to the balcony with enough food and water for mostly a week.
Jensen wonders about if he can dismantle Jared’s resolve on this so quickly, but in the end, Jensen trusts himself enough to at least banter and enough resolve to keep going.
So he pulls out the gifts and spreads out the candles and arranges all his pieces in the bedroom (including that huge sex chaise that’s been hiding in his sedan for the past 10 days, just itching to be used the way it was meant to, all snap buckles and cuffs and sensual curves that could bend and shape Jared into anything Jensen wants) like a pornographic version of Saw, like a torturer arranging his scalpels and essential scratchy-things and pliers, and in all honesty, he’s sure he can make Jared come at least once whether or not Jared expects it.
Sure, there are porterhouses and everything waiting in the fridge, marinating since last night, but Jensen’s planning to make sure they don’t eat for a good long while, and making sure that Jared really gets to enjoy his presents. All that reserve built up, Jensen’s first goal is to make Jared come so hard his ears ring, but that doesn’t mean there’s not going to be an all out attack on Jared’s senses. Jensen’s got enough to make sure of that.
July 19, 2007: 12:30 PM.
It’s just after lunch when Jared gets back, and Jensen’s got everything all covered in the bedroom, like he’s daring Jared to peek under wrapping paper and sheets. Jensen’s re-stringing his guitar, looping, tightening, turning.
“Wow,” Jared says, looking at Jensen, licking his lips. “You found your clothes, then.”
“I did,” Jensen nods, “a whole wardrobe of them, like they realized how hot I had become or something, you know?”
Jared grins. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“So,” Jensen leads on, still stringing his guitar. “You gonna just stand over there all night?”
“I suppose not,” Jared says, sitting down next to Jensen, easing back into the sofa.
“Enjoying twenty-five, yet?” Jensen asks.
“Yeah, but I could be enjoying it a lot more,” Jared sighs.
“Really?” Jensen asks, but Jared doesn’t answer more than pulling Jensen’s lips onto his. Jensen drops the guitar onto the floor, and climbs on top of Jared, taking a little control. A slide of lips opens Jared’s mouth, and Jared strains up at the meeting of their tongues. Jensen’s hands are everywhere, and when they separate what feels like twenty minutes later, there’s still sweet friction, hips moving and hands sliding into Jared’s hair, lips trailing kisses like string on Jared’s neck. Jared’s hands are tangled in Jensen’s shirt, in his jeans, in the upholstery of the couch and the back of Jensen’s neck. They’re a machine, moving and stroking together, tight and hard, Eyes flutter, there’s a tight gasp between them. It’s hard to realize how much he really missed passing through Jared’s personal space until both of them felt honestly together, and now that Jensen can feel it first hand in Jared’s erection as he grinds down on it, he never wants to let it go.
Suddenly Jared’s stopping him with shaking hands and pulling at his shirt.
“What’s wrong?” Jensen asks.
“I…” Jared stops, smiles happily. “I just came, for the first time all summer, and it was in my pants.”
Jensen’s side eventually hurts from laughing too hard.
July 19, 2007: 2:50 PM.
Jared wears nothing but a wifebeater and the velcro restraints that match up with the furniture. He scoffs at them first (“Hey, Jen, you gonna buckle me to the bed?”) but when Jensen peels back the sheet covering the new piece of furniture in the room, Jared quickly shuts up.
“And you thought we were gonna use a bed,” Jensen grins, pushing Jared down on his back, letting the larger arc push into his back as his legs stick out. Jared looks a bit odd balled up on it, but that’s okay, given the fact that he’s going to be buckled down in a second, All tied up and twisted in knots that he can’t undo himself because, hey, try shimming out of Velcro.
“Jensen,” Jared warns when Jensen bends Jared’s knee next to his shoulders and buckles his ankles down by his head, “I don’t bend this way.”
“Maybe it’s time you started,” Jensen remarks, snapping him tight into place. “You’re still young, you can handle a little stress.”
“Fuck,” Jared said, one arm getting pulled down and snapped into place, so Jensen can settle down and run his hand over Jared’s pried open ass. A little lube, and one finger breaches Jared, seeking out only one thing. Jensen watches as Jared moans and struggles, finding that the bondage is tighter than it originally seemed. The foam supports his back, though, so Jensen’s sure that the position isn’t too strenuous.
“So, if you’ve been celibate for the past few months, I’m guessing you’ve had absolutely nothing in your ass for a while, right?” Jensen asks.
“No, it’s really been a highway, actually,” Jared says, sarcastically. “Of course I haven’t put anything in it, Jen.”
“Sarcasm is the sign of a wounded creature, Padalecki,” Jensen says.
“Put your teeth back in, old man,” Jared counters, and Jensen rests a hand at his throat curiously.
“Funny how you got all full of piss and vinegar when I decided to tie you down,” Jensen comments, sliding a second finger in along the first and watching Jared arch when Jensen grazes against his prostate. “Oh, that quieted you up real nice, didn’t it?”
“Fuck you,” Jared hisses.
“That’s the plan,” Jensen nods. “Thank you, though, for not struggling too much. Hate for you to ruin your birthday by ripping up your present the day you get it.”
“You mean this is my present, Jen?” Jared asks, “How incredibly tacky.”
Jensen’s mouth goes tight and he strokes across Jared’s prostate again just to make sure he gets the point as to who is in charge. “Got you a cake and all that other normal stuff, an ugly shirt, some boots.”
“Really?”
“I had to have a backup plan in case you were actually serious about that celibacy thing, you know,” Jensen reasons, and pulls his fingers away so his mouth can explore, tight circles and then easy flicks of tongue, pulling and holding his cock and balls out the way. The smell of Jared’s skin is intoxicating all over, be it down in the crack of his ass or along the plains of his torso, and the wifebeater smells of soap and body spray. It’s all out euphoria, the way it blends together, Sandalwood and spice and skin. Jared groans, and Jensen breaches in with his tongue, smacking his lips at the teeth before he tries to go deeper. Jared tries to arch up, present himself even more than his position gives, back lifting clear off the foam, and Jensen has to pull away to see how Jared looks while he’s struggling.
“I-oh god, Jen, baby do that again- I was serious about the whole celibacy thing,” Jared groans.
“Sure you were, sweetheart.” Jensen coos, and returns with three fingers and the tip of his tongue at the fringed edge of Jared’s entrance, like he’s trying to numb Jared up for the fourth. Now there’s an idea Jensen will have to remember for later.
“No, really. Read about it in a book and really wanted to, you know, try it. It does wonders for your libido, supposedly. And, uh, I kinda had a bet going,” Jared says.
“You’re lying,” Jensen grins, pinkie flirting its way in idly. Jared writhes a little bit and tries not to blush.
“No, I did,” Jared nods. “With…”
“I don’t even want to know,” Jensen smiles. “I’ll make it up to you. If you lost, you know. And if you didn’t, well, then I’d say you owe me big time.”
“Jen, I want you fucking me. Do I have to be a walking cliché and pout and beg for your cock to be inside me?” Jared asks.
“Say please?” Jensen commands, grinning as Jared rolls his eyes.
“O-kay, Please fuck me, Jensen,” Jared sighs.
“Say ‘pretty please with sugar on top’ and that I’m the king of your ass. And, you know, act like you mean it,” Jensen smiles, the head of his cock sliding in and pulling back out like it’s meant to tease.
“I cannot believe I’m tied down to a piece of sex furniture on my twenty fifth birthday with someone who just broke my vow of celibacy for me, and he wants me to call him the king of my ass and say ‘pretty please with sugar on top.’ I didn’t know you needed a daily orgasm to keep your sanity in check, Jen,” Jared sighs. “Do you want me to say anything else?”
“Not right now,” Jensen says, and prepares himself with a hand at the base of his cock. “You gonna suck me off after you eat your cake and unwrap my presents?”
“Jen,” Jared says, and Jensen slips in, inch by little inch until he’s home. Jared’s tight, partially because of the lack of use, and partially because of this impossible position that he’s in, all sprawled out and fucked nice and hard. “God you’re big.”
“Don’t flatter me, boy,” Jensen says, gruff as he pulls himself out of that heat, smooth like water. Jensen pulls Jared’s head down by the head, as if the boy’s body really needed any more tension, for a kiss. This sofa thing makes it almost humiliatingly easy to just sit back and move, and Jensen knows he’s spent his money well the minute he can feel the head of his cock rake backward over Jared’s prostate. “Might leave you this way.”
A few experimental thrusts, just in case Jensen’s a little rusty around the edges and can’t quite keep himself in check, and then his hips are steady fucking into Jared’s. Jared cheers him on with ‘harder’ and ‘more’ and ‘please’ as Jensen’s cock rows in and out in a lazy rhythm that makes it so easy to switch up the rhythm, to pull Jared into even more knots, to hit every angle Jensen can think of and imagine positions that will probably mean they don’t use the bed as much as they used to. There’s shifting, like the weight of the two of them is buckling and shifting the foam along until he’s backed Jared all the way to the corner, toes touching the wall backwards as they curl.
“Oh god, I think I’m gonna come again, Jen,” Jared warns and Jensen slows his thrusts a little bit, reaching down to kiss Jared on the lips and tangle his fist around Jared’s cock. Long strokes that alternate, the push of Jensen inside to the pull of his hand up Jared’s cock, makes Jared writhe and squeal and try to wrap himself around Jensen even though he can’t. Jared sinks back down into himself as he slides easily through the aftershocks, squeezing and pulsing around Jensen’s cock.
Coming inside of Jared is normally an experience inside itself, insides so slick that Jensen wills himself to stay hard just to enjoy it, even as he can’t. This time, though, is so much hotter simply because he’s got Jared tied down impossibly, head arched backward into the foam as he groans at how hard Jensen’s still fucking him. Jensen hasn’t come since about a week ago, and it’s insane to think of how hard he’s coming right now, because of it. His vision whites out, and he slams home one more time before going off like a fire hose, shaking inside Jared.
When he’s done, he kisses Jared softly, like all the force has been wrung out of him along with his orgasm. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s about right,” Jared nods. “Now, could you get me out of these things?”
“I don’t really feel like it, you know?” Jensen says, laying back on the smaller hump in the lounge. “Kinda like you as a permanent fixture to the furniture.”
“Mmm, Kinky.” The drawl in Jared’s voice sounds like pure sex, like he’s totally back in his own body after an orgasmic vacation that ended up costing him two months. Jensen kind of likes the idea that Jared didn’t even think of touching himself for so long, and he’s kinda worried that he’s ruined the big bang, that it was supposed to help Jared gain some kind of emotional clarity or spiritual wealth or anything else, when Jared wiggles around and ends up kicking Jensen in the head as one of the buckles rips free.
“Ow.”
“You were thinking too hard,” Jared responds. “You good with a needle and thread?”
July 19, 2007: 7:48 PM.
“The cake was good,” Jared says. “Like how you added the candy penises and everything.”
“I was kinda desperate at the time, Jare. I figured that if you didn’t give it up tonight, tomorrow I was going to have to start watching Skinemax on TV,” Jensen grins.
“Thank god it didn’t come to that,” Jared groans. “I would have shot you, eventually. Or put you out the house, whichever was closest.”
“And I mean, come on, have you seen Skinemax, lately?” Jensen says.
“Yes, actually. Whenever I thought I was going to want to jack off, it was nothing a little badly dialogued soft-porn couldn’t solve,” Jared shrugs, finishing his coffee and standing up, wearing nothing but his new cowboy boots. “Now come on. I promised you a good cocksucking, didn’t I?”
“Uhm, you technically didn’t answer. I just accepted that as a ‘Yes,’” Jensen laughs happily.
“Well, C’mon then. You dropped a pretty penny for whatever that big honking bed lounge thing is, we need to put it to good work. And after, you can drag me to bed and fuck me with the boots on, what do you say to that?” Jared asks.
“I thought you thought the big honking bed lounge thing was ‘incredibly tacky,’” Jensen points out. Jared scoffs at that.
“That was before you decided to fuck me into it. You could always do that again, if you wanted.”
Jensen doesn’t even respond, he just gets up, taking Jared by the hand and pulling him back into the bedroom.
July 20, 2007: 5:00 AM.
“That better be your erection,” Jared groans, wiggling into Jensen under the blankets. With a sharp gasp, he just sinks right down, expanding to cradle Jensen’s cock.
Jensen just grins.