FIC: "There's An Army On The Dance Floor" 1/1
Title: "There's An Army On The Dance Floor" 1/1
Author:
caramel_maddy @
maddys_slash
Pairing: Jared / Jensen
Word Count:1,668
Rating / Genre: R / Slightly schmoopish.
Summary: In which the boys take a long drive to discuss the tension between them.
AN: Very belated birthday present for
monkeyfun1 . This is NOT your actual birthday fic, but rather a story that came to me while I was tweaking the ridiculously autastic present I *hope* to be done with by the end of the weekend. Story inspired by The Psychadelic Furs - Love My Way. (change hxxp to http to DL.)
There’s An Army On The Dance Floor
They pull up into the reservoir, finally. Feels like they’ve been driving around for hours Jensen thinks as he tries to regulate his breathing. It’s impossible to, so after a few seconds, he stops trying. He already feels like he’s drowned anyway. He forgets the name of this place, this place that they’ve driven to, but he knows they’ve filmed here before. It’s a beautiful stretch of land and water when the suns up, all trees, overgrown weeds and wild flowers that don’t stop growing until the third week of December. There’s a runoff to a lake just over the bend, but it’s too dark to see the water. The sky isn’t exactly black, more along the lines of deep purple with brushstrokes of royal blue splashed between the stars. A crescent cutout shape of moon suspends above the earth like a hangnail.
“Do you wanna. . .” Jared trails off as he takes the key out of the ignition looking nervously over to Jensen. Jensen can’t actually see Jared’s eyes, but he can feel them, knows just what kind of mangled blend of confusion, lust, curiosity and uncertainty that shines in them. In some way, he’s glad he can’t see them.
“Wanna what?” Jensen hates the way his voice cracks, hates the shake to his tone and the way his stomach is twisting up in knots like a nervous seventh grader on his first date. When did things get so complicated between he and Jared? Oh yeah, perhaps the week before when their lips met and teeth collided after one too many shots of Jägermeister. And that would have been fine, just the kissing part that is. But things had escalated, things had gone too far and things had. . .Jensen can still feel Jared’s fingernails digging into the small of his back, can still feel those huge, strong, wide and slightly calloused hands pulling at his belt loop and clawing his t-shirt away like some wild, crazed possessed thing. Still can feel soft, brown hair brushing against his neck. Still can taste the Stetson and still can feel the sensation of tongue and body.
“Go for a walk?”
“It’s kind of cold out, but if you want to. . . I mean we can-”
“No,” Jared interjects. “We don’t have to. I mean, if you’re cold, that’s cool.” Mentally Jared chastises himself for not being as clear and decisive as he would like to be. Truth is he needs some space, thinks if he doesn’t get at least ten feet between he and Jensen he very well might do something stupid. Stupid like sucking him off again or whispering against his neck just how fucking good it feels to be inside of him. Stupid like saying I want to always finish your sentences.
“You do realize we’re both being stupid, right? We need to just-”
“Just talk. Just get it out of the way, right?” Jared mumbles chewing on his lower lip.
“Yes, that’s best.” Jensen says firmly. Jared nods in agreement, yet, doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know where to end, doesn’t know how to fucking stop his hands from shaking and his stomach from cramping up. Shit, this would be so much fucking easier if he knew what Jensen was thinking, knew how he felt. Jared knows what he wants, but just because he wants something doesn’t mean he’s gonna actually get it. The nature of life is to feel disappointment, but hell, who wants to feel that?
Jared takes a deep breath, opens his mouth to say something, but only manages to stutter an unintelligible ‘ah, ahm.’ Jensen sits beside him tapping his fingers on the dashboard like a petulant child staring out into the dark night. The woods are a scary place when there‘s no sun, when everything is doused in shadows and hidden by darkness. Jensen’s very much aware of the fact that he’s almost thirty, but juvenile fears creep in and for a moment he imagines he sees some winged creature traipsing about near the front of Jared’s big, black S.U.V. He shakes off the chill of irrationality.
“You cold?” Jared asks.
“No.”
“If you are I could turn the heat up?” Jared offers and Jensen sighs exasperatedly in return.
“You know Jared,” he starts. “I really wish this wasn’t so uncomfortable.”
“Do you think I like feeling this awkward around you?” Jared throws back. “You think this is easy for me because it’s not, dude. It totally isn’t.”
“Jesus,” Jensen mutters.
“I’ll just put it out there. What are we going to do?”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“I hate when you do that, you know? When you play one of your head games.” Jared grunts putting his hands on the steering wheel.
“I don’t play head games!” Jensen yells.
“Yes you do Jensen!” Jared grunts back. Even if Jensen couldn’t feel the anger radiating off of Jared’s body, he’d be able to tell because Jared’s accent is coming out, that sweet honeysuckle angry Texan infliction of the tongue that makes Jensen remember home. It makes him smile for a moment before he’s shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Jared getting out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
Jensen watches as Jared walks to the front of his car and leans against the hood. All he can make out is Jared’s wide-shouldered silhouette and before he can stop himself he’s getting out of the car too, but doesn’t walk over to Jared, not at first. He just stands there beside the passenger’s door leaning his chin on the top of it.
“What do you want me to say? Sorry that we fucked?”
“Wow. That’s blunt.” Jared chuckles softly within himself.
“I figured I’d be a little straight -okay, bad choice of words there,” Jensen smiles making his way toward him. The earth feels wet beneath his canvas sneakers. He can smell rain in the air or maybe it’s just the cold. It’s autumn, but up in the mountains the temperature can feel like winter after the sun goes down. And the world up here kind of smells like burnt mint and splintered sandalwood too. It’s a crisp aroma that reminds Jensen of hiking and roasting marshmallows and hotdog weenies above campfires.
“Do you wish we hadn’t done it? You know? Do you wish you just would’a went home and that we didn‘t get so shitfaced and. . .stupid?” Jared asks. Jensen leans his hip against the hood standing beside him and he’s quiet for a moment. He thinks maybe he should lie, maybe he should tell Jared that he does wish it never happened and that the smart, logical thing would be to just pretend that it didn’t. They have to work together and it’s already bad enough that half of the time while they’re filming scenes it takes all of Jensen’s self-control not to look into Jared’s eyes for longer than necessary because every time that he does, he gets the urge to just attack his mouth with his tongue. It’s just Jared has one of those soft, curvy, bowlike mouths and he uses unscented Chapstic so his lips are always shiny and just altogether ready.
“Honestly, no. And I’m sorry if that freaks you out, okay, but I’m not,” Jensen says firmly turning towards him. He’s thankful for the darkness because it provides him with an odd sense of comfort and the sensation of release begins to flood throughout his body as looks down to the ground wondering just what kind of creepy night creature could possibly be crawling around his feet. “I really, really tried not to like you. I did, but I do and I know we’re friends and I know it was a fucking stupid idea to let things go as far as they did, but if you’re looking for me to tell you I wasn’t into it just so you can feel better about regretting it, then I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna lie just to put you at ease.”
“Hum.” Jared says running his fingers through his hair and that’s all that he says as he turns to look at Jensen. Damn darkness, he can’t see anything, but he knows Jensen’s looking back at him, he can feel his eyes.
“Are you gonna say something?” Now it’s Jensen’s turn to get angry, his sweet honeysuckle Texan accent slipping through his full, pink mouth with irritation. Jared smiles. Jensen reminds him of home.
“Nope.” Jared says resolutely and before anger can begin to burn through Jensen’s muscles, there are lips against his, there are hands in his hair, there is one, long, muscled leg wedging itself between his and a strong, sweatshirt clad chest pressing against his blue, heavy cotton warm-up.
Jared tastes of sweetness and uncertainty. His tongue is careful yet, careless and his hands are cold as they make their way up Jensen’s back. His movements are awkward as he pushes into him making Jensen laugh with a pain-pleasure kind of glee as his back presses uncomfortably into the grates in front of the car’s headlights.
“Hurt‘n here!” Jensen laughs.
“Sorry,” Jared smiles sheepishly taking a step back. “So. . .this mean we‘re cool?” He kicks at the dirt. Jensen can’t see him do it, but he can hear one of Jared’s size fourteen feet sweeping up the wet earth.
“You know we can’t tell Kim, right? He‘d tear us both a new one.” Jensen states stepping toward him.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Jared agrees. He can feel the warmth of Jensen’s body close to his before he can actually feel Jensen’s arms slink their way around his waist. And this time they don’t kiss, they just stand there, Jensen leaning his head on Jared’s shoulder, Jared’s arms coming around him in a tight hug.
“I feel like a chick right about now.” Jensen jokes.
And Jared smiles, Jared laughs, Jared just holds him tighter.
/FIN
Feedback is always lovely :)
Story inspired by The Psychadelic Furs - Love My Way. (change hxxp to http to DL.)
Complete Fiction List new updates found.friend @
maddys_slash
Author:
caramel_maddy @
maddys_slash
Pairing: Jared / Jensen
Word Count:1,668
Rating / Genre: R / Slightly schmoopish.
Summary: In which the boys take a long drive to discuss the tension between them.
AN: Very belated birthday present for
monkeyfun1 . This is NOT your actual birthday fic, but rather a story that came to me while I was tweaking the ridiculously autastic present I *hope* to be done with by the end of the weekend. Story inspired by The Psychadelic Furs - Love My Way. (change hxxp to http to DL.)
There’s An Army On The Dance Floor
They pull up into the reservoir, finally. Feels like they’ve been driving around for hours Jensen thinks as he tries to regulate his breathing. It’s impossible to, so after a few seconds, he stops trying. He already feels like he’s drowned anyway. He forgets the name of this place, this place that they’ve driven to, but he knows they’ve filmed here before. It’s a beautiful stretch of land and water when the suns up, all trees, overgrown weeds and wild flowers that don’t stop growing until the third week of December. There’s a runoff to a lake just over the bend, but it’s too dark to see the water. The sky isn’t exactly black, more along the lines of deep purple with brushstrokes of royal blue splashed between the stars. A crescent cutout shape of moon suspends above the earth like a hangnail.
“Do you wanna. . .” Jared trails off as he takes the key out of the ignition looking nervously over to Jensen. Jensen can’t actually see Jared’s eyes, but he can feel them, knows just what kind of mangled blend of confusion, lust, curiosity and uncertainty that shines in them. In some way, he’s glad he can’t see them.
“Wanna what?” Jensen hates the way his voice cracks, hates the shake to his tone and the way his stomach is twisting up in knots like a nervous seventh grader on his first date. When did things get so complicated between he and Jared? Oh yeah, perhaps the week before when their lips met and teeth collided after one too many shots of Jägermeister. And that would have been fine, just the kissing part that is. But things had escalated, things had gone too far and things had. . .Jensen can still feel Jared’s fingernails digging into the small of his back, can still feel those huge, strong, wide and slightly calloused hands pulling at his belt loop and clawing his t-shirt away like some wild, crazed possessed thing. Still can feel soft, brown hair brushing against his neck. Still can taste the Stetson and still can feel the sensation of tongue and body.
“Go for a walk?”
“It’s kind of cold out, but if you want to. . . I mean we can-”
“No,” Jared interjects. “We don’t have to. I mean, if you’re cold, that’s cool.” Mentally Jared chastises himself for not being as clear and decisive as he would like to be. Truth is he needs some space, thinks if he doesn’t get at least ten feet between he and Jensen he very well might do something stupid. Stupid like sucking him off again or whispering against his neck just how fucking good it feels to be inside of him. Stupid like saying I want to always finish your sentences.
“You do realize we’re both being stupid, right? We need to just-”
“Just talk. Just get it out of the way, right?” Jared mumbles chewing on his lower lip.
“Yes, that’s best.” Jensen says firmly. Jared nods in agreement, yet, doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know where to end, doesn’t know how to fucking stop his hands from shaking and his stomach from cramping up. Shit, this would be so much fucking easier if he knew what Jensen was thinking, knew how he felt. Jared knows what he wants, but just because he wants something doesn’t mean he’s gonna actually get it. The nature of life is to feel disappointment, but hell, who wants to feel that?
Jared takes a deep breath, opens his mouth to say something, but only manages to stutter an unintelligible ‘ah, ahm.’ Jensen sits beside him tapping his fingers on the dashboard like a petulant child staring out into the dark night. The woods are a scary place when there‘s no sun, when everything is doused in shadows and hidden by darkness. Jensen’s very much aware of the fact that he’s almost thirty, but juvenile fears creep in and for a moment he imagines he sees some winged creature traipsing about near the front of Jared’s big, black S.U.V. He shakes off the chill of irrationality.
“You cold?” Jared asks.
“No.”
“If you are I could turn the heat up?” Jared offers and Jensen sighs exasperatedly in return.
“You know Jared,” he starts. “I really wish this wasn’t so uncomfortable.”
“Do you think I like feeling this awkward around you?” Jared throws back. “You think this is easy for me because it’s not, dude. It totally isn’t.”
“Jesus,” Jensen mutters.
“I’ll just put it out there. What are we going to do?”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“I hate when you do that, you know? When you play one of your head games.” Jared grunts putting his hands on the steering wheel.
“I don’t play head games!” Jensen yells.
“Yes you do Jensen!” Jared grunts back. Even if Jensen couldn’t feel the anger radiating off of Jared’s body, he’d be able to tell because Jared’s accent is coming out, that sweet honeysuckle angry Texan infliction of the tongue that makes Jensen remember home. It makes him smile for a moment before he’s shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Jared getting out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
Jensen watches as Jared walks to the front of his car and leans against the hood. All he can make out is Jared’s wide-shouldered silhouette and before he can stop himself he’s getting out of the car too, but doesn’t walk over to Jared, not at first. He just stands there beside the passenger’s door leaning his chin on the top of it.
“What do you want me to say? Sorry that we fucked?”
“Wow. That’s blunt.” Jared chuckles softly within himself.
“I figured I’d be a little straight -okay, bad choice of words there,” Jensen smiles making his way toward him. The earth feels wet beneath his canvas sneakers. He can smell rain in the air or maybe it’s just the cold. It’s autumn, but up in the mountains the temperature can feel like winter after the sun goes down. And the world up here kind of smells like burnt mint and splintered sandalwood too. It’s a crisp aroma that reminds Jensen of hiking and roasting marshmallows and hotdog weenies above campfires.
“Do you wish we hadn’t done it? You know? Do you wish you just would’a went home and that we didn‘t get so shitfaced and. . .stupid?” Jared asks. Jensen leans his hip against the hood standing beside him and he’s quiet for a moment. He thinks maybe he should lie, maybe he should tell Jared that he does wish it never happened and that the smart, logical thing would be to just pretend that it didn’t. They have to work together and it’s already bad enough that half of the time while they’re filming scenes it takes all of Jensen’s self-control not to look into Jared’s eyes for longer than necessary because every time that he does, he gets the urge to just attack his mouth with his tongue. It’s just Jared has one of those soft, curvy, bowlike mouths and he uses unscented Chapstic so his lips are always shiny and just altogether ready.
“Honestly, no. And I’m sorry if that freaks you out, okay, but I’m not,” Jensen says firmly turning towards him. He’s thankful for the darkness because it provides him with an odd sense of comfort and the sensation of release begins to flood throughout his body as looks down to the ground wondering just what kind of creepy night creature could possibly be crawling around his feet. “I really, really tried not to like you. I did, but I do and I know we’re friends and I know it was a fucking stupid idea to let things go as far as they did, but if you’re looking for me to tell you I wasn’t into it just so you can feel better about regretting it, then I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna lie just to put you at ease.”
“Hum.” Jared says running his fingers through his hair and that’s all that he says as he turns to look at Jensen. Damn darkness, he can’t see anything, but he knows Jensen’s looking back at him, he can feel his eyes.
“Are you gonna say something?” Now it’s Jensen’s turn to get angry, his sweet honeysuckle Texan accent slipping through his full, pink mouth with irritation. Jared smiles. Jensen reminds him of home.
“Nope.” Jared says resolutely and before anger can begin to burn through Jensen’s muscles, there are lips against his, there are hands in his hair, there is one, long, muscled leg wedging itself between his and a strong, sweatshirt clad chest pressing against his blue, heavy cotton warm-up.
Jared tastes of sweetness and uncertainty. His tongue is careful yet, careless and his hands are cold as they make their way up Jensen’s back. His movements are awkward as he pushes into him making Jensen laugh with a pain-pleasure kind of glee as his back presses uncomfortably into the grates in front of the car’s headlights.
“Hurt‘n here!” Jensen laughs.
“Sorry,” Jared smiles sheepishly taking a step back. “So. . .this mean we‘re cool?” He kicks at the dirt. Jensen can’t see him do it, but he can hear one of Jared’s size fourteen feet sweeping up the wet earth.
“You know we can’t tell Kim, right? He‘d tear us both a new one.” Jensen states stepping toward him.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Jared agrees. He can feel the warmth of Jensen’s body close to his before he can actually feel Jensen’s arms slink their way around his waist. And this time they don’t kiss, they just stand there, Jensen leaning his head on Jared’s shoulder, Jared’s arms coming around him in a tight hug.
“I feel like a chick right about now.” Jensen jokes.
And Jared smiles, Jared laughs, Jared just holds him tighter.
/FIN
Feedback is always lovely :)
Story inspired by The Psychadelic Furs - Love My Way. (change hxxp to http to DL.)
Complete Fiction List new updates found.friend @
maddys_slash