(no subject)
Morning in the Padalecki Household
J2, NC-17, 1050 words. Follow-up to My Man Ackles.
It is as if the entirety of the crusades is alive in Jared's head, and trampling across his brain.
"Jensen," he moans, flailing around for his valet-cum-lover, unable to open his eyes against the unforgiving dawn. "Jensen, I'm dying."
He hears a soft chuckle that sounds much more like a rumbling earthquake to the rather frazzled nerves. Jensen, apparently already out of bed and carrying on with his day, presses a kiss to his forehead.
"You're hungover," says Jensen, "and you're an idiot."
"If I could open my eyes, I would fight you where you stand for that insolence," says Jared.
"You wouldn't," says Jensen. "Now sit up and drink this."
"I cannot sit. I am incapable."
"If you don't sit then I will not be sucking your cock, sir," says Jensen primly. "At any time today."
"I cannot imagine being capable of enjoying your fabulous ministrations at any time today, so I can imagine I'll live."
"Drink it, Jared, and stop whining."
Jared cracks an eyelid. It is too bright and too loud, and he hates everything in the world except for Jensen.
Jensen smiles at him patiently.
"You are cruel to me," says Jared, but he drinks the concoction.
The effect is instantaneous. He blinks, and the world comes into focus, somehow already more beautiful. Jensen is still smiling. He's dressed and shaved and looking delectable, as always.
"You," says Jared, "are a miracle worker, Jensen. A god among men. My love for you is beyond words and measure."
Jensen flushes slightly. "You're too kind."
"I believe you said something about sex," says Jared promptly.
"I believe you said you were going to be incapable of an erection for the remainder of the day. Which is good, because I have quite a lot of cleaning to do. I don't know what you and Lord Rosenbaum got up to last night, but I hope you never tell me."
"Old Licker's getting married, Jensen," says Jared. "He has to have his last hurrah!"
"I thought it might be your last hurrah," says Jensen. "You are aware I'd be quite bereft if you died."
"More than aware. Is there breakfast?"
"Of course there's breakfast. Get dressed. Your clothes are on the chair."
"Of course they are," says Jared darkly.
Ever since Jensen first began his employment, this has been a conflict between the two of them. Jensen is, for unfathomable reasons, convinced that Jared's fashion sense is insufficient. Jared, whose style is beyond reproach, has been resisting for just as long.
Since their relationship evolved beyond simply that of a gentleman and his personal gentleman, Jensen has only become more insistent.
Today, he's put out a perfectly reasonable but wholly boring selection. Jared feels a man going out into the public eye in this day and age needs a bit more color in his sartorial selections. He rejects the crisp white shirt Jensen had chosen, and instead finds a lavender one buried in the back of his closet.
When he enters the kitchen, Jensen cannot hide his disapproval.
"What is that?" asks Jensen.
"A shirt," says Jared. "A rather fetching one, if I do say so myself. You mentioned breakfast?"
Jensen sighs. "Of course, Jared."
They eat in relative silence, Jensen occasionally tangling his feet with Jared's under the table.
"What are your plans for the day, Jensen?" he asks finally.
"Cleaning the house after whatever it is you did to it," says Jensen. "It's actually impressive."
"I'm sorry," says Jared. "I can help."
Jensen smiles. "I appreciate the offer, but in all honesty, you do more harm than good."
Jared sighs. "I suppose so. You don't think I can be taught?"
"No," says Jensen. He looks up at Jared, with heat in his eyes. "But you can make it up to me."
Jared suddenly has no interest in his breakfast.
"I realize you've only just woken up," Jensen continues innocently, "but I was wondering if I could entice you to return to bed."
No more than a minute later, Jensen is under him on their bed, moaning into Jared's kisses as Jared roughly tries to open up the fastenings on Jensen's trousers.
"Hurry up, sir," says Jensen roughly, "I need your hands on my cock as soon as possible."
Jared moans and sucks a mark under Jensen's jaw, unable to hold himself back.
"I won't be able to go out in public marked up like this. Not for days."
"I don't want you to," says Jared. "I want to keep you in here, all to myself." He wraps his fingers around Jensen's cock, jerking it roughly. Jensen thrusts up into him, pushing hard off the bed in his eagerness. His own hands fumble on Jared's trousers, his flailing attempts brushing against his cock with every move.
"If you'll just finish me off," Jensen gasps, "I'd be more than willing to suck you."
"Oh god, please," says Jared, jerking Jensen harder. It's only another minute before he comes messily between them, and he's pushing Jared back to get his cock in his mouth.
Jensen's mouth is a wonder, all heat and wetness and perfect suction, and Jared loves many things about his valet--in fact, he loves everything about his valet--but his lips are certainly high on the list. Jensen massages his balls between his hands, even comes down to suck on one, and it drives Jared mad, what Jensen does to him.
Jensen must notice, because he looks up and smirks, sucks Jared's balls harder, and jerks his cock steadily. And then, as if that wasn't enough, he licks down, past the slickness between his cock and his hole, and slips his tongue inside Jared.
Jared comes almost out of shock, and it's quite a long minute before he regains his senses. When he does, Jensen is kissing him.
"I love you to a degree that is ridiculous," says Jared.
"I am intimately familiar with the feeling," says Jensen happily. He looks down at Jensen and smirks. "Sir, you seem to have messed up your shirt quite irreversibly. "Let me get you another."
Jared looks down at his hard-won lavender shirt, stained with his semen as well as Jensen's. Jensen's shirt has, somehow, come through no worse for wear.
Jared can't help laughing. "God damn you, Ackles."
Jensen just grins.
J2, NC-17, 1050 words. Follow-up to My Man Ackles.
It is as if the entirety of the crusades is alive in Jared's head, and trampling across his brain.
"Jensen," he moans, flailing around for his valet-cum-lover, unable to open his eyes against the unforgiving dawn. "Jensen, I'm dying."
He hears a soft chuckle that sounds much more like a rumbling earthquake to the rather frazzled nerves. Jensen, apparently already out of bed and carrying on with his day, presses a kiss to his forehead.
"You're hungover," says Jensen, "and you're an idiot."
"If I could open my eyes, I would fight you where you stand for that insolence," says Jared.
"You wouldn't," says Jensen. "Now sit up and drink this."
"I cannot sit. I am incapable."
"If you don't sit then I will not be sucking your cock, sir," says Jensen primly. "At any time today."
"I cannot imagine being capable of enjoying your fabulous ministrations at any time today, so I can imagine I'll live."
"Drink it, Jared, and stop whining."
Jared cracks an eyelid. It is too bright and too loud, and he hates everything in the world except for Jensen.
Jensen smiles at him patiently.
"You are cruel to me," says Jared, but he drinks the concoction.
The effect is instantaneous. He blinks, and the world comes into focus, somehow already more beautiful. Jensen is still smiling. He's dressed and shaved and looking delectable, as always.
"You," says Jared, "are a miracle worker, Jensen. A god among men. My love for you is beyond words and measure."
Jensen flushes slightly. "You're too kind."
"I believe you said something about sex," says Jared promptly.
"I believe you said you were going to be incapable of an erection for the remainder of the day. Which is good, because I have quite a lot of cleaning to do. I don't know what you and Lord Rosenbaum got up to last night, but I hope you never tell me."
"Old Licker's getting married, Jensen," says Jared. "He has to have his last hurrah!"
"I thought it might be your last hurrah," says Jensen. "You are aware I'd be quite bereft if you died."
"More than aware. Is there breakfast?"
"Of course there's breakfast. Get dressed. Your clothes are on the chair."
"Of course they are," says Jared darkly.
Ever since Jensen first began his employment, this has been a conflict between the two of them. Jensen is, for unfathomable reasons, convinced that Jared's fashion sense is insufficient. Jared, whose style is beyond reproach, has been resisting for just as long.
Since their relationship evolved beyond simply that of a gentleman and his personal gentleman, Jensen has only become more insistent.
Today, he's put out a perfectly reasonable but wholly boring selection. Jared feels a man going out into the public eye in this day and age needs a bit more color in his sartorial selections. He rejects the crisp white shirt Jensen had chosen, and instead finds a lavender one buried in the back of his closet.
When he enters the kitchen, Jensen cannot hide his disapproval.
"What is that?" asks Jensen.
"A shirt," says Jared. "A rather fetching one, if I do say so myself. You mentioned breakfast?"
Jensen sighs. "Of course, Jared."
They eat in relative silence, Jensen occasionally tangling his feet with Jared's under the table.
"What are your plans for the day, Jensen?" he asks finally.
"Cleaning the house after whatever it is you did to it," says Jensen. "It's actually impressive."
"I'm sorry," says Jared. "I can help."
Jensen smiles. "I appreciate the offer, but in all honesty, you do more harm than good."
Jared sighs. "I suppose so. You don't think I can be taught?"
"No," says Jensen. He looks up at Jared, with heat in his eyes. "But you can make it up to me."
Jared suddenly has no interest in his breakfast.
"I realize you've only just woken up," Jensen continues innocently, "but I was wondering if I could entice you to return to bed."
No more than a minute later, Jensen is under him on their bed, moaning into Jared's kisses as Jared roughly tries to open up the fastenings on Jensen's trousers.
"Hurry up, sir," says Jensen roughly, "I need your hands on my cock as soon as possible."
Jared moans and sucks a mark under Jensen's jaw, unable to hold himself back.
"I won't be able to go out in public marked up like this. Not for days."
"I don't want you to," says Jared. "I want to keep you in here, all to myself." He wraps his fingers around Jensen's cock, jerking it roughly. Jensen thrusts up into him, pushing hard off the bed in his eagerness. His own hands fumble on Jared's trousers, his flailing attempts brushing against his cock with every move.
"If you'll just finish me off," Jensen gasps, "I'd be more than willing to suck you."
"Oh god, please," says Jared, jerking Jensen harder. It's only another minute before he comes messily between them, and he's pushing Jared back to get his cock in his mouth.
Jensen's mouth is a wonder, all heat and wetness and perfect suction, and Jared loves many things about his valet--in fact, he loves everything about his valet--but his lips are certainly high on the list. Jensen massages his balls between his hands, even comes down to suck on one, and it drives Jared mad, what Jensen does to him.
Jensen must notice, because he looks up and smirks, sucks Jared's balls harder, and jerks his cock steadily. And then, as if that wasn't enough, he licks down, past the slickness between his cock and his hole, and slips his tongue inside Jared.
Jared comes almost out of shock, and it's quite a long minute before he regains his senses. When he does, Jensen is kissing him.
"I love you to a degree that is ridiculous," says Jared.
"I am intimately familiar with the feeling," says Jensen happily. He looks down at Jensen and smirks. "Sir, you seem to have messed up your shirt quite irreversibly. "Let me get you another."
Jared looks down at his hard-won lavender shirt, stained with his semen as well as Jensen's. Jensen's shirt has, somehow, come through no worse for wear.
Jared can't help laughing. "God damn you, Ackles."
Jensen just grins.