Fic: "In From the Cold" J2 AU rated-R Ch. 16/?
Jensen is affectionate.
Jared reciprocates.
Thanks to Embroiderama for the good advice on where to break this chapter. It's a little short but believe me, it's a good thing.
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Jared has a plan. A three-hour nap and then a trip to the Museum of Modern Art. He’s already tallied up bus fare, admission and a nice lunch for the two of them. That’ll leave gas for the week plus grocery money and a small cushion in his checking account.
What he hadn’t planned on is waking up with Jensen stretched out against him and a warm hand rubbing slow strokes up under his shirt. He shivers at the light touches and he moans before he’s quite awake.
“I made it shush,” Jensen whispers in his ear. The door to the living room is cracked open to let some light in.
Jared mumbles some variety of “Buhwha?” and Jensen pushes up on one elbow and smiles down at him.
“The noise thing. I made it shush. I was to wake you up.” He reconsiders. “I wanted to wake you up.”
“Alarm,” Jared corrects out of habit, “You turned off the alarm.”
Jensen smiles again. “The day is off.” His hand slides lazily across Jared’s hipbone. “The day for us.”
And god. It feels so good and it’s been so long. Jared hears his own ragged breathing, feels his head swimming with sudden want and need and hunger. He clenches his fingers in the sheet. This is Jensen and he doesn’t know and Jared can’t… Won’t… Fuck.
Jensen nuzzles in against his jaw with shy little kisses and brushes of his lips and the tease of his tongue. Jared can feel the line of his dick against his side and as Jensen brings his knee up over Jared’s crotch he has no doubt the other man can feel his.
“Say to me,” Jensen whispers. “Of the how. Of what to do.”
“Anything,” Jared groans. He can’t stop his hips from their slow roll up to rub against Jensen's knee. “You can’t do it wrong.”
Jensen slithers down the bed with his legs still tangled with Jared’s. He pushes up the t-shirt Jared went to bed in and brushes kisses across Jared’s ribs so light they wouldn’t hurt the wings of a moth. As much as Jared wants to treat Jensen like he’s precious he never expected to feel so cherished himself or so loved or so protected.
He looks down into the endless green of Jensen's eyes and feels found for the first time in his life. Like everything is right.
“Could I see you?” Jensen asks and Jared nods. He can’t think of anything he would deny Jensen at that moment.
Jensen helps him to sit up and Jared just goes with it. He lets his body be moved and manipulated as his shirt is pulled over his head and he’s laid down again.
Jensen straddles his hips and leans down. He kisses along Jared’s collarbone and runs his hands down his sides. He nuzzles into Jared’s hair and flicks the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth.
Not even Jared’s first boyfriend gave him this sensation of being explored like a glorious new country. The act is so primitive. So simple. Jensen shows no embarrassment at all. What is, is, and we are, Jared thinks and maybe he’s starting to think like Jensen.
Jensen shifts and rubs down on him and their cocks are separated by nothing but the thin cotton of their pajamas. Jensen likes it. Jared likes it. No harm is being done and Jared starts to let himself relax.
“Here,” he whispers and tugs at the hem of Jensen's shirt. Jensen obliges by pulling it the rest of the way off and Jared touches him back in the dim light from the doorway.
Jensen is still lean. Jared knew that already. But months of good nutrition have put more mass on him. Awkward boniness has faded into graceful musculature. He looks thin but strong and Jared likes that. Likes that Jensen is healthy and fit. He’s proud of himself but also proud of Jensen.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and his fingers drift over the glowing smoothness of Jensen's skin. The words catch in his throat. “I love you.”
Jensen leans low over him and presses their cheekbones together so hard it almost hurts. “Yours.” He says with fierce determination. “Yours ever forever.”
He finds an awkward rhythm and Jared grabs onto his hips and guides him and they thrust together a few more strokes until Jensen makes a broken cry and grinds down on top of him. Jared’s never seen anything so open and free. Jensen loses himself in the orgasm and even though Jared’s still short of his own release he holds Jensen and strokes his hair and pets him as he comes down.
“Sparkles,” Jensen laughs all breathless and sweet. “In my head.”
Jared smiles back and tries to adjust himself in his pants without drawing attention to it. Jensen catches it though, too observant for Jared’s good sometimes.
His smile fades and his hand drifts down to cover Jared’s. “Tell me the how,” he says. “Tell me how to make it finish.”
“I don’t--“ Jared starts, but the end of that sentence treats Jensen like the child he is not. “Anything,” he begs. “Anything. Just touch. Me. It.”
Jensen reaches for him without hesitation. Those clever artist’s fingers slide down between cloth and skin and wrap around Jared’s dick. He can see the wonder of discovery in Jensen's eyes and the fascinated smile on his lips.
“This?” Jensen asks, “Like touching me.” He strokes and Jared arches against the touch. He feels his sense of self slipping away under the heady wave of sensation. And god it’s good with that half-beat of a pause at the tip and a little twist before Jensen's hand strokes down again.
Like riding a bike, Jared thinks and he would laugh at his own absurdity but he’s too busy losing his mind to the pleasure for that.
Jensen eases him down with soft touches and whispered words of “So pretty” and “Mine for always.” Jared looks up and Jensen seems so at peace. Seems like the older man for the first time. A tiny part of Jared wonders what could have been if they’d met somehow without Jensen being hurt but it doesn’t matter and he’s sure he wouldn’t want to trade that life for this.
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Showering with Jensen is one of those things Jared doesn’t realize he misses until he gets the chance. Intimate and sensual and more than he could have experienced before without jumping Jensen's bones. One of those things like assisted orgasms that he has denied himself for so long but once he has the chance again he doesn’t know how he lived without.
Jared takes the opportunity to reacquaint himself with Jensen's body. His skin is healed like the rashes had never been there. He’s filled out--added on muscle and just enough body fat to put him in the healthy range. He must walk ten miles or more on the days he goes with Jeff and his body is lean and toned. Freckles are scattered fine over his shoulders and the bridge of his nose and Jared thinks maybe he loves every single one of them.
Jensen touches Jared shyly and Jared realizes this is the first time Jensen has seen him. “Touch me where ever you want,” Jared tells him, “You can do that here, in our home. It’s okay.” And Jensen does. His fingertips trace down Jared’s neck and shoulders, over the firm muscle of his chest, over waist and hips and against the line where his thighs meet torso.
Jared would be embarrassed by how little it takes to get him hard again so soon except that months have gone by since another person touched him and this is so much more than just another person. It’s Jensen touching him like he’s made of gold. Jensen worshiping the lines of him. Jensen who is so beautiful and so gentle and his, all his.
Jensen's hands slide around behind Jared. Feeling the muscles of his back and cupping his ass cheeks and drifting back around to the front. Whatever concerns Jared might have had about Jensen wanting this for himself dissolve as he looks down and sees that Jensen enjoys this touching stuff just as much as any healthy gay man in his late twenties.
Reassured that he isn’t fucking this up, Jared feels bold. He presses Jensen back against the water-warmed tile and they kiss and Jared pushes back the sodden strands of Jensen's hair. He pins Jensen's shoulders there and Jensen seems too pleased with this turn of events to struggle against him.
Jared watches his face for any sign of unhappiness as he sinks to his knees in front of Jensen. He sees only arousal and love and lust and wonder. Jared makes it good. Makes it last. He touches Jensen in all the ways a lover should. Brings him to the edge and keeps him there until it’s a mercy to finish him off and let him come.
They laugh together after, with water falling all around them and their bodies slick against each other. Jensen seems so happy. So normal. Just a guy who talks funny. An eccentric artist. And Jared isn’t an asshole for loving him in the physical way. Not a monster or an abuser. The last piece falls into place and they are a couple. Complete.
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Jared reciprocates.
Thanks to Embroiderama for the good advice on where to break this chapter. It's a little short but believe me, it's a good thing.
========
Jared has a plan. A three-hour nap and then a trip to the Museum of Modern Art. He’s already tallied up bus fare, admission and a nice lunch for the two of them. That’ll leave gas for the week plus grocery money and a small cushion in his checking account.
What he hadn’t planned on is waking up with Jensen stretched out against him and a warm hand rubbing slow strokes up under his shirt. He shivers at the light touches and he moans before he’s quite awake.
“I made it shush,” Jensen whispers in his ear. The door to the living room is cracked open to let some light in.
Jared mumbles some variety of “Buhwha?” and Jensen pushes up on one elbow and smiles down at him.
“The noise thing. I made it shush. I was to wake you up.” He reconsiders. “I wanted to wake you up.”
“Alarm,” Jared corrects out of habit, “You turned off the alarm.”
Jensen smiles again. “The day is off.” His hand slides lazily across Jared’s hipbone. “The day for us.”
And god. It feels so good and it’s been so long. Jared hears his own ragged breathing, feels his head swimming with sudden want and need and hunger. He clenches his fingers in the sheet. This is Jensen and he doesn’t know and Jared can’t… Won’t… Fuck.
Jensen nuzzles in against his jaw with shy little kisses and brushes of his lips and the tease of his tongue. Jared can feel the line of his dick against his side and as Jensen brings his knee up over Jared’s crotch he has no doubt the other man can feel his.
“Say to me,” Jensen whispers. “Of the how. Of what to do.”
“Anything,” Jared groans. He can’t stop his hips from their slow roll up to rub against Jensen's knee. “You can’t do it wrong.”
Jensen slithers down the bed with his legs still tangled with Jared’s. He pushes up the t-shirt Jared went to bed in and brushes kisses across Jared’s ribs so light they wouldn’t hurt the wings of a moth. As much as Jared wants to treat Jensen like he’s precious he never expected to feel so cherished himself or so loved or so protected.
He looks down into the endless green of Jensen's eyes and feels found for the first time in his life. Like everything is right.
“Could I see you?” Jensen asks and Jared nods. He can’t think of anything he would deny Jensen at that moment.
Jensen helps him to sit up and Jared just goes with it. He lets his body be moved and manipulated as his shirt is pulled over his head and he’s laid down again.
Jensen straddles his hips and leans down. He kisses along Jared’s collarbone and runs his hands down his sides. He nuzzles into Jared’s hair and flicks the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth.
Not even Jared’s first boyfriend gave him this sensation of being explored like a glorious new country. The act is so primitive. So simple. Jensen shows no embarrassment at all. What is, is, and we are, Jared thinks and maybe he’s starting to think like Jensen.
Jensen shifts and rubs down on him and their cocks are separated by nothing but the thin cotton of their pajamas. Jensen likes it. Jared likes it. No harm is being done and Jared starts to let himself relax.
“Here,” he whispers and tugs at the hem of Jensen's shirt. Jensen obliges by pulling it the rest of the way off and Jared touches him back in the dim light from the doorway.
Jensen is still lean. Jared knew that already. But months of good nutrition have put more mass on him. Awkward boniness has faded into graceful musculature. He looks thin but strong and Jared likes that. Likes that Jensen is healthy and fit. He’s proud of himself but also proud of Jensen.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers and his fingers drift over the glowing smoothness of Jensen's skin. The words catch in his throat. “I love you.”
Jensen leans low over him and presses their cheekbones together so hard it almost hurts. “Yours.” He says with fierce determination. “Yours ever forever.”
He finds an awkward rhythm and Jared grabs onto his hips and guides him and they thrust together a few more strokes until Jensen makes a broken cry and grinds down on top of him. Jared’s never seen anything so open and free. Jensen loses himself in the orgasm and even though Jared’s still short of his own release he holds Jensen and strokes his hair and pets him as he comes down.
“Sparkles,” Jensen laughs all breathless and sweet. “In my head.”
Jared smiles back and tries to adjust himself in his pants without drawing attention to it. Jensen catches it though, too observant for Jared’s good sometimes.
His smile fades and his hand drifts down to cover Jared’s. “Tell me the how,” he says. “Tell me how to make it finish.”
“I don’t--“ Jared starts, but the end of that sentence treats Jensen like the child he is not. “Anything,” he begs. “Anything. Just touch. Me. It.”
Jensen reaches for him without hesitation. Those clever artist’s fingers slide down between cloth and skin and wrap around Jared’s dick. He can see the wonder of discovery in Jensen's eyes and the fascinated smile on his lips.
“This?” Jensen asks, “Like touching me.” He strokes and Jared arches against the touch. He feels his sense of self slipping away under the heady wave of sensation. And god it’s good with that half-beat of a pause at the tip and a little twist before Jensen's hand strokes down again.
Like riding a bike, Jared thinks and he would laugh at his own absurdity but he’s too busy losing his mind to the pleasure for that.
Jensen eases him down with soft touches and whispered words of “So pretty” and “Mine for always.” Jared looks up and Jensen seems so at peace. Seems like the older man for the first time. A tiny part of Jared wonders what could have been if they’d met somehow without Jensen being hurt but it doesn’t matter and he’s sure he wouldn’t want to trade that life for this.
-----------
Showering with Jensen is one of those things Jared doesn’t realize he misses until he gets the chance. Intimate and sensual and more than he could have experienced before without jumping Jensen's bones. One of those things like assisted orgasms that he has denied himself for so long but once he has the chance again he doesn’t know how he lived without.
Jared takes the opportunity to reacquaint himself with Jensen's body. His skin is healed like the rashes had never been there. He’s filled out--added on muscle and just enough body fat to put him in the healthy range. He must walk ten miles or more on the days he goes with Jeff and his body is lean and toned. Freckles are scattered fine over his shoulders and the bridge of his nose and Jared thinks maybe he loves every single one of them.
Jensen touches Jared shyly and Jared realizes this is the first time Jensen has seen him. “Touch me where ever you want,” Jared tells him, “You can do that here, in our home. It’s okay.” And Jensen does. His fingertips trace down Jared’s neck and shoulders, over the firm muscle of his chest, over waist and hips and against the line where his thighs meet torso.
Jared would be embarrassed by how little it takes to get him hard again so soon except that months have gone by since another person touched him and this is so much more than just another person. It’s Jensen touching him like he’s made of gold. Jensen worshiping the lines of him. Jensen who is so beautiful and so gentle and his, all his.
Jensen's hands slide around behind Jared. Feeling the muscles of his back and cupping his ass cheeks and drifting back around to the front. Whatever concerns Jared might have had about Jensen wanting this for himself dissolve as he looks down and sees that Jensen enjoys this touching stuff just as much as any healthy gay man in his late twenties.
Reassured that he isn’t fucking this up, Jared feels bold. He presses Jensen back against the water-warmed tile and they kiss and Jared pushes back the sodden strands of Jensen's hair. He pins Jensen's shoulders there and Jensen seems too pleased with this turn of events to struggle against him.
Jared watches his face for any sign of unhappiness as he sinks to his knees in front of Jensen. He sees only arousal and love and lust and wonder. Jared makes it good. Makes it last. He touches Jensen in all the ways a lover should. Brings him to the edge and keeps him there until it’s a mercy to finish him off and let him come.
They laugh together after, with water falling all around them and their bodies slick against each other. Jensen seems so happy. So normal. Just a guy who talks funny. An eccentric artist. And Jared isn’t an asshole for loving him in the physical way. Not a monster or an abuser. The last piece falls into place and they are a couple. Complete.
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