meet in bed, J2, R.
Title: The Conversations You Meet in Bed.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen.
Rating: R.
AN: This is ridiculous catharsis. Random and weird. But, happy! Thanks to sunnny for the prompts, and for her endless waiting.
'Your face is bad shui.''>ostentatious
Jared has his sock half off and his jaw on the floor. When he says, “What are you wearing?” his voice comes out in a crackle. A bad connection.
Jensen’s rubbing at his red, itchy eyes with one hand and putting his contacts down with the other. “Oh, Mack got them for me. They’re pretty cool, hey?”
“They’re.” Jared drops his sock, and by extension his foot, and stands up. He moves to where Jensen is, by the chest of drawers, and reaches his hands out to touch. “Where did she get them?
“I don’t know. Online somewhere. Dude.” Jensen peers at Jared through the slits of his eyes. “Tell me you’re not pitching a tent over my pyjamas?”
“No!” Which was a useless lie. “They’re just … awesome.”
For a moment, Jensen watches, disturbed, as Jared runs flat palms over his shoulder, his arm, across to his chest. “Jared,” he snaps, like a hypnotist would click his fingers. “It’s The Jetsons, not the fucking, Hare Krishna.”
“Dude, they’re all on here. George, Jane, even the chubby little boss guy who was mad all the time. What was his name again?”
“Mr. Spacely,” Jensen says without blinking.
“I love that you know that.”
Jensen recoils from the lust in Jared’s voice. He backs toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go change.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re bastardising my childhood, Jared. I won’t watch you get excited about my pyjamas the same way you get excited about Dean’s leather jacket.”
Jared’s ears literally perk up. His forehead grows another inch. “You’re gonna put on the jacket?”
Guess.
“Hey,” Jensen’s saying to Jared’s hipbone, one leg curled up and the other dangling off the bed. “Hey, guess what?”
Jared plays idly with Jensen’s hair. His eyes are closed. “You’re old and I’m not.”
“Fuck you.”
“You just did.”
Jensen pouts, and throws a leg over. “Yeah,” he concedes, and is up on all fours. “Guess again.”
Jared opens his eyes, watching as Jensen scales the length of his body. Nears. “Well, you have to give me a hint.” He bucks up, to stretch. “You can’t take me to a field of daisies and say, pick the one I want. I mean, does this daisy have any significant markings?”
“What, the fuck.” Jensen slows somewhere around Jared’s navel, disgusted. “Daisies?”
“It’s 4am, Jensen. I don’t quote Shakespeare at 4am.”
Jensen smiles and nuzzles Jared’s chin. “Exactly,” he says, and it sounds like an orgasm. Jared knows he’s missing out on something.
“Huh?”
“It’s 4am, Jared,” Jensen repeats, and he flops onto Jared like a doll. “It’s 4am and the only thing we’re gonna do for the next eight hours is sleep.”
“You mean no fucking?” Jared can feel Jensen’s grin stretch out on his skin, the smooth wet of his lips.
“Hey, if I roll over in my sleep? Have at. Enjoy.”
Thread.
Jared’s head hangs upside down off the end of the bed and he flips TV channels. [Today we’re talking about homo - You’ll lose 10 pounds in 10 days when you - You shut your mouth beep, don’t you beeeep talk to me - are the Days of Our Lives.]
“We need new sheets,” he claims, abandoning the remote. He rolls to his stomach, hugging a pillow to him; the TV’s casting light across his too eager face.
Jensen looks over the top of his glasses and over the top of his book. “You bought new sheets last week.”
“That was last week. We had Raspberry Spiders between now and last week.”
Jensen scoffs like a little old lady. “There is no ‘We’ in Raspberry.”
“There is in Naked Wrestling.”
“Yeah but I beat your ass with my Asian Mist manoeuvre. I’m absolved.”
“Absolved?” Jared throws a humoured glance over his shoulder. “Are you reading the thesaurus again?”
“Are you sleeping on the couch again?”
“Oh sugar. Don’t go to bed angry.”
Jensen throws his book and watches as it bounces off Jared’s head and onto the floor.
Vengeful, Jared turns back to the soap opera and says, “Did you work with him? Did you sleep with him? Did you sleep with her? Wait, is she a man?” for the next half an hour.
Periodically
“I missed you,” Jared whispers to Jensen, to the place where ear meets jaw. Jensen makes muted noises in response; he’s belly up on the bed, Jared’s fingers clawing into his shoulder blades. “I missed this,” Jared adds, and he’s talking about Jensen’s knee up and his skin bared and the slip and slap of their bodies.
He’s talking about having.
“Only been a few weeks,” Jensen says; a beautifully broken sound. Jared thrusts a little deeper.
“Days, weeks, months, what do I know,” and that’s it, all, the only words left are fuck, God, please, yes, more and love and you.
The sheets curl and fold and bunch against their skin; their skin shakes and pulses and burns. They move like waves, their own back and forth, a dance they’ve mastered all the steps too. A classic, the type they never tire of.
“You didn’t miss me?” Jared asks as he descends, kissing gently at the corners of Jensen’s mouth. Jensen’s heart still drums against his rib cage; his breath is still dizzy in his stomach.
“Yes,” he finally says, and it’s silly.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen.
Rating: R.
AN: This is ridiculous catharsis. Random and weird. But, happy! Thanks to sunnny for the prompts, and for her endless waiting.
'Your face is bad shui.''>ostentatious
Jared has his sock half off and his jaw on the floor. When he says, “What are you wearing?” his voice comes out in a crackle. A bad connection.
Jensen’s rubbing at his red, itchy eyes with one hand and putting his contacts down with the other. “Oh, Mack got them for me. They’re pretty cool, hey?”
“They’re.” Jared drops his sock, and by extension his foot, and stands up. He moves to where Jensen is, by the chest of drawers, and reaches his hands out to touch. “Where did she get them?
“I don’t know. Online somewhere. Dude.” Jensen peers at Jared through the slits of his eyes. “Tell me you’re not pitching a tent over my pyjamas?”
“No!” Which was a useless lie. “They’re just … awesome.”
For a moment, Jensen watches, disturbed, as Jared runs flat palms over his shoulder, his arm, across to his chest. “Jared,” he snaps, like a hypnotist would click his fingers. “It’s The Jetsons, not the fucking, Hare Krishna.”
“Dude, they’re all on here. George, Jane, even the chubby little boss guy who was mad all the time. What was his name again?”
“Mr. Spacely,” Jensen says without blinking.
“I love that you know that.”
Jensen recoils from the lust in Jared’s voice. He backs toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go change.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re bastardising my childhood, Jared. I won’t watch you get excited about my pyjamas the same way you get excited about Dean’s leather jacket.”
Jared’s ears literally perk up. His forehead grows another inch. “You’re gonna put on the jacket?”
Guess.
“Hey,” Jensen’s saying to Jared’s hipbone, one leg curled up and the other dangling off the bed. “Hey, guess what?”
Jared plays idly with Jensen’s hair. His eyes are closed. “You’re old and I’m not.”
“Fuck you.”
“You just did.”
Jensen pouts, and throws a leg over. “Yeah,” he concedes, and is up on all fours. “Guess again.”
Jared opens his eyes, watching as Jensen scales the length of his body. Nears. “Well, you have to give me a hint.” He bucks up, to stretch. “You can’t take me to a field of daisies and say, pick the one I want. I mean, does this daisy have any significant markings?”
“What, the fuck.” Jensen slows somewhere around Jared’s navel, disgusted. “Daisies?”
“It’s 4am, Jensen. I don’t quote Shakespeare at 4am.”
Jensen smiles and nuzzles Jared’s chin. “Exactly,” he says, and it sounds like an orgasm. Jared knows he’s missing out on something.
“Huh?”
“It’s 4am, Jared,” Jensen repeats, and he flops onto Jared like a doll. “It’s 4am and the only thing we’re gonna do for the next eight hours is sleep.”
“You mean no fucking?” Jared can feel Jensen’s grin stretch out on his skin, the smooth wet of his lips.
“Hey, if I roll over in my sleep? Have at. Enjoy.”
Thread.
Jared’s head hangs upside down off the end of the bed and he flips TV channels. [Today we’re talking about homo - You’ll lose 10 pounds in 10 days when you - You shut your mouth beep, don’t you beeeep talk to me - are the Days of Our Lives.]
“We need new sheets,” he claims, abandoning the remote. He rolls to his stomach, hugging a pillow to him; the TV’s casting light across his too eager face.
Jensen looks over the top of his glasses and over the top of his book. “You bought new sheets last week.”
“That was last week. We had Raspberry Spiders between now and last week.”
Jensen scoffs like a little old lady. “There is no ‘We’ in Raspberry.”
“There is in Naked Wrestling.”
“Yeah but I beat your ass with my Asian Mist manoeuvre. I’m absolved.”
“Absolved?” Jared throws a humoured glance over his shoulder. “Are you reading the thesaurus again?”
“Are you sleeping on the couch again?”
“Oh sugar. Don’t go to bed angry.”
Jensen throws his book and watches as it bounces off Jared’s head and onto the floor.
Vengeful, Jared turns back to the soap opera and says, “Did you work with him? Did you sleep with him? Did you sleep with her? Wait, is she a man?” for the next half an hour.
Periodically
“I missed you,” Jared whispers to Jensen, to the place where ear meets jaw. Jensen makes muted noises in response; he’s belly up on the bed, Jared’s fingers clawing into his shoulder blades. “I missed this,” Jared adds, and he’s talking about Jensen’s knee up and his skin bared and the slip and slap of their bodies.
He’s talking about having.
“Only been a few weeks,” Jensen says; a beautifully broken sound. Jared thrusts a little deeper.
“Days, weeks, months, what do I know,” and that’s it, all, the only words left are fuck, God, please, yes, more and love and you.
The sheets curl and fold and bunch against their skin; their skin shakes and pulses and burns. They move like waves, their own back and forth, a dance they’ve mastered all the steps too. A classic, the type they never tire of.
“You didn’t miss me?” Jared asks as he descends, kissing gently at the corners of Jensen’s mouth. Jensen’s heart still drums against his rib cage; his breath is still dizzy in his stomach.
“Yes,” he finally says, and it’s silly.