FIC: First
Title: First
Author:: neros_violin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Word count: 7,064
Summary: PWP, for transfixeddream’spn-j2-xmas exchange prompt Jensen slowly but surely corrupts his neighbor's fresh-out-of-high school kid into all things sexy and gay. I think it’s possible that the corruption happened the other way around, but I hope you like it anyway!
Author’s Notes: Thanks to scintilla10 for the wonderful beta work. One of these days I’m going to have to start paying you. ;)
Jensen creeps down the stairs in bare feet, careful of the fifth one from the bottom (that stair had been responsible for his getting caught sneaking in at three in the morning way too many times, creaking and groaning, ratting him out as loud as his little sister when he stuck his tongue out at her). His heart is tripping over its own beats, out of whack from nerves, a dose of fear, and strange, out-of-place anticipation; he’s got the Louisville Slugger slung over his shoulder, the bat that won his high school team the Regional Championship, and his knee might be fucked, but he’s still got his grand slam swing.
It’s pitch-dark in the hallway, no lamplight peeking under doors, no blue glow of hibernating electronics. He approaches the den and hears the noise again, unmistakable thunk of shoes on the hardwood, followed by a soft curse. Jesus fuck, someone really is in his house.
Jensen’s hands reflexively tighten around the neck of the bat, and muscle memory just as automatically loosens them, grip nice and relaxed, a soft touch, like he’s back in the batter’s box. He takes a deep, quiet breath, trying to remember if his Mom had rearranged the furniture again while he was away at school, figuring it was smarter to go in and to the left, where the bookshelves made it unlikely he was going to be ambushed by an ottoman.
He thinks that if he doesn’t go in now, he’s probably not going to (his mind has started presenting reasons that confronting an unknown intruder armed only with a baseball bat isn’t the best idea: a) the possibility that there might be two or more against one, b) the possibility that said intruder or intruders is carrying a gun, c) the possibility that he will be facing off against an alien invader or zombie or some other equally unlikely preternatural creature that he hasn’t planned for). He tells himself to shut up and rushes into the den, hooking left like he’d planned. He can see the guy’s shadow, the barest hint of the streetlight finding its way in at the edges of the dark, thick drapes. The guy is big, bigger than Jensen for sure, and there’s no doubt in Jensen’s mind that he looks like a flashlight in his white t-shirt and light blue hospital scrubs, so he fucking goes for it, swings first while he has the advantage of surprise. There is a small part of his brain registering exactly how good it feels to do this, planting his back foot and putting his hips and back into the motion, perfect extension, so much power, such a rush, nothing like it, and he’s aiming low, going for knee level (he’d always loved the low ones), when the guy puts his hands up and shouts.
“Jensen!”
Oh, fuck. He recognizes that voice - Jared, in his family’s fucking living room in the middle of the fucking night on a fucking Tuesday, why not? - but he’s already committed to the swing, couldn’t stop it for a million bucks. So he just opens his hands and lets the bat drop, clattering to the floor and hitting Jared in the knee anyway on the bounce.
“Ow,” he says, still just a shadow, bent over, rubbing its lower leg.
“Fuck you, ow!” Jensen yells, all that adrenaline pounding in his ears, anger and fear at what he’d almost done. He curls his fingers into fists to keep from pushing, knocking Jared onto his ass, energy sparking along his nerves, nowhere to go now but in, because as much as he might want to, he’s not going to hit Jared. “What are you doing here?”
The shadow shrugs, tilts its head in a way Jensen recognizes, can see as clearly as if it were high noon, Jared’s sheepish puppy look, the one that he uses to get out of everything he doesn’t want to be in, and to get into everything he does. “I, uh. Got back from Grandma’s early.”
“I can see that,” Jensen says, his voice low and dangerous. “What are you doing breaking into my house in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I can’t climb into your window because I’m afraid of heights. I guess it’s not so much that I’m afraid of heights, as that I’m afraid of falling. Heights are fine really, nothing against them, I really liked visiting the Sears Tower, but that’s enclosed, right? Anyway, this window presented itself as the best solution. First floor. Unlocked. Drapes instead of blinds. Hidden from the street. Opportune, really.”
Jensen laughs, or tries to, but it comes out as a half-sob, all his wires still jangled and crossed. “You have an alternative career you wanna tell me about?”
Jensen’s eyes are adjusting to the dark, and he can see just enough of Jared’s face to make out the pleased curve of his lips, the relief in his sagging shoulders. “Nope, nobody here but the neighborhood landscaper. I just watch a lot of Law and Order and CSI and stuff. Educational television.”
“Jared.”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you just knock?”
“Can we go to your room? I like your room. The window in your room was the penultimate goal - this window was just a stand in for your window.”
Jensen has been spending too much time with the kid, obviously, because he takes the transition as smoothly and abruptly as Jared offers it, shrugging. He picks up the bat and turns back into the hall. He feels Jared’s fingers hook in the back of his scrub pants, the tips of his fingers just brushing the lowest part of Jensen’s back, or the highest part of his ass, depending on one’s perspective. Jared leans in close, close enough that Jensen can feel his body heat through the thin clothes he’s wearing from neck to ankles, and whispers against the tender shell of Jensen’s ear. “Can’t see.”
Jensen clenches his teeth, adjusts his rapidly hardening dick, and wonders when he turned into a masochist.
His entire short relationship with Jared has been torture, most of it of his own making. He saw Jared for the first time on his second day home from school, taking one last summer off to work with his Dad at the shop before starting the hardcore graduate program in Physical Therapy at UT Austin. He had plans, ones that involved sleeping in and eating his Mom’s food and spending quality time with the old man, like they used to when he was a kid.
Instead, he was rudely awakened at eight a.m. on day two by the loud, droning whine of a small engine right under his fucking open window. He got up to slam it shut, happened to glance outside, and was suddenly half-awake and fully hard. The guy using his parents’ ancient push-style lawnmower was smoking hot, wearing threadbare jeans, his white t-shirt hanging like a fucking flag of surrender from his back pocket. His long, lean limbs were browned by the sun, and his muscles stood out with strain, highlighted by the light sheen of sweat dotting his narrow torso. Jensen planted his elbows on the windowsill and watched the rest of the show, noticing other details once he managed to move his eyes from the hypnotic bunch and release of the guy’s abs: shaggy brown hair, bright pink mouth, tight, high ass. When the guy finally finished the yard, wiping his brow with the t-shirt before putting it back on to stretch across his shoulders, Jensen went back to bed and had one of the most satisfying jerk-off sessions of his entire life, falling into a deep sleep immediately after that he didn’t emerge from until noon. He woke up with a smile on his face, and grinned like a moron through his shower and shave. He was goddamn whistling by the time he went downstairs, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug. She smiled, clearly a little surprised by his display, but pleased, and said, Honey, I’d like you to meet Jared,. It was all over after that.
Because the lawnmower guy, the incredibly, achingly hot guy that Jensen had spent the morning ogling, jerking off to, and probably dreaming about, was jailbait. The kid - he was a fucking kid, all eager eyes and toothy grin, and his limbs weren’t long, they were lanky, probably still growing, for god’s sake - stuck out his hand for Jensen to shake and Jensen tried not to notice the really long fingers or the way Jared’s hand practically dwarfed his own, but he couldn’t. He noticed, his dick noticed, and it continued to notice, loudly and with obvious pleasure, every single time that he saw Jared every single day for the next two weeks, because Jared’s parents and Jensen’s parents had apparently become best friends since the Padaleckis moved next door in January. Jared’s parents both worked, so Jensen’s parents had volunteered to keep Jared busy and fed over the summer. Consequently, Jared was in Jensen’s space all the time; at Dad’s shop, bending metal and mixing paint, fingers dirty with oil and smears of paint on his perfect, high cheekbones, at home, sitting across from Jensen at the dinner table, shoveling in Mom’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes like the growing boy he is, grinning and making everybody happy just by osmosis or something; at the parties Jensen went to on Thursday and Friday and Saturday nights because Jared had an older brother who had introduced him to all the people Jensen knew and hung out with from high school. It was all Jared, all the time, and it would have been bearable if Jared had just been some asshole teenager like Jensen had been at that age, lazy and self-centered and stupid, but he wasn’t. Jensen watched him work his ass off at the shop, and help Jensen cook dinner when it was his night, and take Mrs. Henderson’s dogs out for walks because she couldn’t go very far since her hip replacement. And he wanted, because that pretty exterior was just window dressing for a smart, interesting, kind person. It just wasn’t fair, damn it.
But not only was Jared barely legal (he turned eighteen four days after Jensen jerked off to images of the kid on his knees in front of him, Jesus Christ), he’d given no indication that he was anything less than your average straight Texas boy, who loved Jesus and football and everyone’s Mama.
Thinking that helped, for a week or two. Then Jensen had a few too many drinks at Carlson’s party, and maybe he flirted, a little, maybe he flirted a lot, maybe he was really fucking obvious about it, licking his lips and leaning back against the bar so that the tight jeans he was wearing showed just how interested he was, but either way, Jared didn’t hit him, or seem grossed out, or offended. He seemed caught, staring at Jensen’s mouth and licking his lips in an unconscious mirror of Jensen, nostrils flaring and pupils dilating, and Jensen can admit this to himself, he was weak that night. He dragged Jared by the belt loops into a room - he has no idea whose, just that it had a bed, and that he stripped the sheets after because that’s the considerate thing to do - and proceeded to kiss the hell out of him, pulling out every stop he knew because once he had this, had Jared, he wanted to fucking keep him, wanted it to be so good for Jared that he wouldn’t ever think of touching anybody but Jensen, wanted the kid to be just as addicted to Jensen as Jensen was to him, before they even kissed.
Jensen had him up against the wall, alternating hot, deep, wet kisses with softer, close mouthed ones, wanting Jared to know that Jensen could provide him with the full experience, and Jared, god, he was giving back just as good as he got, it was awesome. They (Jensen) took things to the bed, and he managed to get Jared’s shirt off so he could lick and bite at all that perfect skin, and he couldn’t wait, he had to get his hands on Jared’s dick, and it was amazing, long and rock hard and just the right width and weight to fit Jensen’s palm like it was made for this. He only got in a few strokes before the kid was coming like a rocket, shuddering and shaking all over, and damn if that wasn’t enough to get Jensen off too, jizzing in his pants without being touched, just from touching.
His orgasm burned off some of the booze haze, and as he lay there on the bed, panting, his forearm thrown over his eyes, he started putting two and two together and hoping that it didn’t make four, but he was pretty sure it did. One look at Jared confirmed it, and Jensen felt like he was going to fly and puke at the same time, because holy shit, Jared was a virgin, that had probably been the first time he’d had someone else touch his cock and Jensen had just been his first (he’d boggled for a moment at the thought, because someone as hot as Jared usually didn’t make it to eighteen without getting a piece - people would fucking line up for it, and Jensen would be at the front of the queue). Some part of his brain was screaming yes, yes, first, first, first, mine, mine, mine, grossly triumphant and possessive in a way that Jensen had never, ever been before, while the other part was horrified, because he’d just kind of overpowered the kid, not let him stop to get his breath, and as the more experienced one, that was his responsibility, it was on him.
So he felt like crap, and he apologized, messily. Jared laughed and said are you kidding? and proceeded to remind Jensen about an eighteen year old’s refractory time. Which was nice. But Jensen was determined after that to take it slow, to show Jared how it could be, to ease him into it and give him the chance to say no or back out if that’s what he wanted.
And Jared was going to fucking kill him, because every time they did anything, from just making out on the couch to Jensen on his knees or on his back or on his side, sucking Jared’s dick (there wasn’t anything better on the planet than Jared’s smell and taste and the solid breadth of him stretching Jensen’s mouth open) or vice versa (the first time that happened, Jensen shot off like he was the virgin, eyes closed against the image of it, burned against the back of his eyelids anyway, taking away any illusions of stamina when it came to Jared), Jared begged for it like slut. He pleaded for Jensen to fuck him, to please, please, please Jensen, just do it, put it in me and the first couple of times, it was okay, because Jensen was so turned on by the filthy things Jared was asking for that he couldn’t hold back, just came so hard he saw stars, taking the question of fucking temporarily off the table.
But his dick soon became inured to the pleasant shock value of it, and agreed with Jared that pushing into that tight virgin ass was a truly fantastic idea. His dick insisted, really, throbbed eagerly every time Jared uttered the word fuck, and provided all the instructional imagery Jensen could handle, as though somehow his brain was just forgetting how to fuck, and that his cock would happily help him remember.
Another two weeks they went on like this, until Jensen thought he was going to break from the strain of it. His first time wasn’t great, and he didn’t exactly regret it, but he wished he’d gone into it with a little more forethought and a little less blind lust. So he told Jared about his experience, and when they were both fully clothed and sitting on separate ends of the couch (or preferably at the empty shop, where there were no friendly, soft horizontal surfaces), they talked (argued) about it, with Jensen saying what’s the rush? (as his by now blue balls pulsed angrily in dissent) and Jared stating that grass grew faster than they were going, and things deteriorating from there, though their stand-offs didn’t last too long. One of them always brought a peace offering of gummy worms or Starbucks coffee, and they forgot about it until the next time Jared wanted to get naked and Jensen wanted to keep lube out of it.
It’s not that Jensen doesn’t want to; god, he wants to. He wants it more than he wanted to be a professional baseball player, more than he wanted to date Christy Collins in the ninth grade and then her brother Nathan in senior year, more than he wants to be a sports rehab therapist now. He wants it so much it scares him, and he’s not so self aware that he doesn’t understand that’s a large part, a selfish part, of the reason he’s holding back. Wanting someone this bad scares the hell out of him, and he doesn’t want to do wrong, do bad, fuck up Jared, fuck up himself.
Jensen’s a lot of things, some of them not good, but he’s not stupid. He knows exactly why Jared climbed in his window (well, he still doesn’t understand why the kid didn’t just come to the front door) when his parents aren’t home, and he can feel himself starting to shake as he climbs the stairs up to his room. Because Jensen’s pretty sure that if Jared offers tonight, he’s not going to have the willpower to turn him down.
*
Jensen shuts the door behind them, even though they’re alone in the house. It could just be his imagination - he could have watched one too many rom-coms with Mac - but it feels like they’re shut up in their own little world, with just enough air and light for two.
The thought is so ridiculous that he laughs, and Jared laughs too, because that’s just how they roll. Their eyes meet and catch, and suddenly neither of them is laughing. Jensen had been listening to Jeff Buckley when he heard the noise downstairs, the volume down low, going to sleep volume, so the room is full of soft guitar and soft lamplight.
“You trying to seduce me?” Jared asks, teasing, flashing the dimples.
“I thought you were seducing me, with the whole window-climbing thing,” Jensen says, taking a few steps forward, crowding Jared against the edge of the bed. He doesn’t back down at all, just grins wider.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, and reaches to pull off his shirt. Jensen’s eyes follow his graceful motion, eagerly taking in every inch of bared skin and shifting muscle, his hands reaching up of their own accord to follow the hem of Jared’s shirt, up along his abs and pecs and finally onto his smooth, broad shoulders. “You’re so easy. All I gotta do is take off my shirt, you’re so hot for my body,” Jared says, mocking words, but his breathless tone gives away the game.
“Yeah,” Jensen growls, unrepentant and unwilling to lie - he is so fucking hot for Jared’s body, it’s going to burn him up - and tugs Jared’s head down for a kiss. His fingers tangle in the soft strands of Jared’s hair, and Jensen gives into the urge and pulls, using his grip to put Jared’s head exactly where he wants it. He licks at the seam of Jared’s lips, growls again as Jared opens up easily, lets Jensen sink his tongue deep, slowing down to savour the contours of Jared’s mouth, hot and slick and soft. He feels like the top of his head is going to fly off, sensation setting off nerve endings he didn’t know he had, goddamn. He could do this all day, just kiss Jared, because it feels better than fucking anyone else, shocky bursts of arousal in the usual places and in the oddest places, at the crooks of his elbows and behind his knees and the insides of his wrists, his bellybutton, for god’s sake.
Jared sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and slides his arms around Jensen’s waist, practically picking him up off the ground, and then they’re just grabbing at each other, Jensen’s hands yanking at Jared’s hair, Jared’s fingers digging welcome bruises into Jensen’s back.
Jensen can feel Jared’s cock against his hip, and he groans and presses their lower bodies together harder, mindlessly giving Jared something to rub up against, loving the feeling, already flying, just getting higher as Jared keens, the sound of his pleasure spiking Jensen’s blood, getting him drunk on it. There is nothing like this, nothing.
Somehow their legs get tangled up, and they fall to the bed, bouncing together, breaking the kiss just long enough not to break their teeth. Jensen gives some thought to slowing down, but it’s like his body is on full tilt, ready and willing to give Jared what he’s been asking for, as fast as possible.
He’s got his own clothes and the rest of Jared’s off in the time it takes for Jared to arrange the pillows under his head and Jared’s cock is just so mouth-wateringly attractive that Jensen has to taste it, long, luxurious licks at the base, the crinkle of Jared’s pubic hair tickling his nose. He works his way around the impressive girth of it, getting it so wet with spit that it drips into the crease of Jared’s thigh, and Jared groans when Jensen chases those beads of moisture, licking the taut muscle, letting the edge of his tongue brush lightly, teasingly at one side of Jared’s balls.
“Fuck, Jensen, just, god, fuck me already,” and Jensen has every intention of doing just that, but as much as he and Jared get along, they get along like brothers, better than brothers really, but there’s a little bit of brother stuff there, a little bit of competitiveness, a little bit of alpha positioning. So when Jared demands like that, when Jensen realizes that Jared is this fucking close to getting what he wants, on his terms, it cuts through his thick arousal like a knife and he suddenly remembers that he’s the older one, the more experienced one, the one with control.
He slides up Jared’s body, letting his nipples rub against all that muscle on his way, relishing the sensation of flesh on flesh, the mind-blowing eroticism of skin on skin. He licks and bites at the tendons standing out on Jared’s neck before moving up to capture his lips, sucking Jared’s tongue into his mouth, stroking it with his own in an unmistakable imitation of things to come. Jared moans and bucks up, his dick rubbing enticingly and insistently against the cut of Jensen’s hip bone, and Jensen laughs into their kiss because Jared has gotten off just like that on more than one occasion. He pulls his hips up and to the side and Jared rips his mouth away, making these protesting noises that sound like whines, and finally resolve into words. “Please, Jensen, whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want, just do me.”
Jensen leans down then, bites down gently on Jared’s earlobe. “Gonna fuck you, Jared, but you gotta wait for me.” Jared’s body tenses under Jensen’s, like he’s surprised by Jensen’s words, that his begging is finally going to result in something more than just mutual blow jobs, and Jensen starts to worry that maybe Jared doesn’t really want to go further. Maybe the stiffness in his body is hesitation. Maybe he didn’t really think Jensen would give in, and he doesn’t really want him to.
“What do you think I’ve been doing? Been waiting for fucking ever, you asshole,” Jared pants, and Jensen exhales in relief, trying to cover it and recover himself by running his tongue along the cartilage of Jared’s ear.
“Wanna ... make it good for you. Wanna do it right,” Jensen says, flexing his hips so that their dicks drag together, rough friction made slick by Jensen’s spit and the precome that they’ve both been leaking. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say (he does, but he won’t think it), but Jared must get it. His hands go up, above his head, crossed, and the gesture speaks so clearly of trust and submission that Jensen has to grip the base of his cock to keep from spurting all over Jared’s flat belly.
“Jesus Christ, Jared,” Jensen murmurs, grasping Jared’s wrists with one hand, sliding his other in between their bodies to find Jared’s erection, still diamond-hard and weeping fluid, slicking up Jensen’s hand for an easy glide. Jensen tightens his grip and leans back to look at Jared’s face, eyes closed and cheekbones flushed dark. “Gonna make it good for you,” he promises.
“I know,” Jared says, and Jensen squeezes his wrists again before letting go, working one hand constantly on Jared’s dick, while his mouth explores. He finds the spot on Jared’s shoulder that they both like, sets his teeth in it deep enough to make a mark. He’s not usually a possessive lover, never wanted to own anybody, but he feels like he wants to get inside Jared, can’t be close enough, and leaving the imprints of his teeth in Jared’s skin is the best he can do.
He licks a warm line from the mark along Jared’s collarbone, following a cut of muscle along the edge of his pectoral, down to where his scent is strong and clean. Jensen buries his nose there, inhaling, and Jared’s hands come down, onto Jensen’s shoulders, pushing then pulling, as though he’s not sure whether he wants Jensen to stop or keep going. Jensen nips the tender flesh and takes one last, deep breath, the smell setting off a slow, hard throb in his cock.
Jared’s hands are definitely pushing now, insistently guiding Jensen to where Jared wants him to go, and Jared groans when Jensen loosens his fingers around his cock, the barest hint of a grip, and goes for Jared’s small brown nipple with the tip of his tongue instead. Jared grabs as much of Jensen’s short hair as he can and tugs - hard enough to bring tears to Jensen’s eyes and to set off another aching pulse in his cock - which is probably both encouragement for the nipple play and punishment for practically ignoring his dick. Jensen just smiles and shuts his eyes, determined to enjoy every second of his mouth on Jared’s sensitive nipples. He closes his mouth over the left one, creates suction, lets his tongue slip and slide over the tiny nub until it’s hard as a pebble, and he moans at the sensation. It’s a hell of a kink, but feeling that little bud tighten under his tongue has always ramped him up, so that he always loses track of time and his own arousal doing it, and tonight is no exception. He sucks and licks at Jared’s nipples until they’re red and wet with spit, hearing nothing but the rush of his heartbeat in his ears and Jared’s soft curses, lost in taste and texture. He only relents when Jared’s moans turn to desperate hisses every time his cock brushes accidentally against Jensen’s flank, and Jensen realizes that at this point, Jared’s probably hurting for relief.
“Sorry,” Jensen murmurs, dropping a quick kiss on Jared’s panting mouth, unable to resist slipping his tongue into that wet heat.
“Owe me,” Jared says between heaving breaths, and Jensen just fucking loves this kid, loves the random, quick turns of his mind and his giant, too-vulnerable heart and his smart, filthy mouth. He loves the inner corner of his hazel fox-eyes, he loves the slope of his nose and his flushed, sharp cheekbones and his long, slender neck. He loves the way Jared looks in his bed, hair tousled and angry-red cock lying flat against the perfect plane of his stomach, and he has to hide his face in the bend of Jared’s neck and suck air to keep from losing it.
Jared seems to understand that Jensen needs a moment, and he curves his big hand around the back of Jensen’s neck while he plants kisses on every part of Jensen’s head and shoulders that he can reach, lips on his hair and jaw and collarbone. It grounds Jensen enough that he can speak again, and he whispers, “Owe you big time.”
“Get to it, then. Don’t want to start accruing interest.”
Jensen laughs softly and stays long enough to make a mark to match the one on Jared’s left side before abruptly finding Jared’s cock with his lips, opening his mouth wide and sliding down, down, down, the harsh jerk of Jared’s hips driving him deeper as Jensen flattens his tongue against the flared head. Jared tastes incredible, sweet skin and bitter musk, and Jensen holds Jared down so that he can explore at his leisure, suck and draw out more of the precome that bursts like pop rocks on his tongue. Jared is hard, his skin stretched tight along the length, and Jensen can feel him getting bigger, getting ready to come. He toys with the idea of holding him back, but Jensen’s body seems to have other ideas, his hand rising automatically to fondle Jared’s tight sac, encouraging, while his sinks lower on Jared’s cock, opening right up so that his head just pops right into Jensen’s throat.
Jensen feels Jared’s groan start low in his belly, pulled up and out, almost harsh, as he starts to let go, hot fluid shooting down Jensen's throat. Jensen swallows reflexively, and the groan turns to a shout as Jared pulses again and again, so much come that Jensen can’t take it all, can feel it dribble and slide out the side of his mouth, down his chin. He sucks Jared dry, but Jared barely softens in his mouth, cock still beautifully flushed with blood, not quite as hard but still very, very erect, and he thinks that there are definitely some advantages to having an eighteen year old boyfriend.
He lays his head on the firm pillow of Jared’s thigh and tries to recover his breath, absently aware of Jared’s come cooling on his jaw and his painfully hard dick. He slips his hand around it, cupping, just taking the edge off, and Jared makes a protesting noise.
“No,” Jared says, his hand slapping weakly at the top of Jensen’s head. “Stop it. You said. You said you would.”
Jensen’s head is fuzzy, like he’s the one who just came his brains out, so he really can’t be blamed for having no idea what Jared is talking about. “Huh?”
His pillow shifts, and he looks up to see Jared propped up on his elbows, his eyes narrowed. “If you come without fucking me, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Jensen bares his teeth, and something dark and primal flushes through him. “Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” he promises, and where the hell did that come from?
“Then stop jerking yourself off and get to it already,” Jared demands, and he’s just being himself, his usual bratty, irresistible self, but that dark thing rears up and roars, driving Jensen to his knees as he grips Jared’s thighs and pushes them apart, wide open, exposing Jared’s heavy balls and the light pink pucker of his asshole.
“Fine,” he growls, hooking Jared’s legs over his arms at the elbows, dragging him up and tilting his hips. Jensen’s mouth is on Jared an instant later, licking a long, slow line from the top of Jared’s crack to his perineum, and again, getting everything nice and wet. Jared bucks and jerks but Jensen’s got a good grip, and he just tightens his hold. He wriggles his tongue between Jared’s tight cheeks, feels the slightly rough, tender texture of Jared’s hole, and it’s teasing him as much as it’s teasing Jared, because he can’t get to it, can’t get deep like he wants to. He drops Jared’s hips back to the bed and follows, propped on his elbows with his ass in the air like he’s the one waiting to get fucked. He grips the globes of Jared’s ass, spreading him open with his thumbs, and he dives in, leaving messy stripes of spit all over Jared’s pucker. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, massages it with the flat, rough part, working it until it glistens with moisture, until the soft pink flushes dark. Jared’s got goosebumps on his inner thighs and he’s shaking, the good kind of shake, and Jensen is rewarded with a full-body shudder when he dips inside, just a small incursion, but definitely penetration.
“Ohmygod,” Jared babbles, and Jensen does it again, going in a little deeper each time, letting the spit gather on his tongue so that he can push it inside Jared’s body, get that smooth, hot muscle slick and slicker. Jared is tight, so fucking tight as Jensen spears his tongue into his body, and he’s gotta get a finger in there, has to start stretching because he doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last, assaulted by the taste and feel of Jared around him, the sounds Jared is making above him.
He fumbles around for the lube - he’s never kept it under the mattress before, he’s not a fucking porn star, but it comes in handy with Jared around - and grabs one of the condoms conveniently stowed with it (ones that he didn’t put there, and right now he’s grateful for Jared’s forethought and sneakery). He pours some into his hand, warming it, before slicking up his fingers. When his fingertip brushes the wet opening, they both moan, and Jensen pushes in slow and shallow, just to the first knuckle, testing. Jared’s mouth falls open and his eyes roll into the back of his head, so Jensen keeps going, wanting to put that look on Jared’s face every day, all the time. The base of his finger brushes against Jared’s cheek before he stops, and oh god, it’s so snug inside, and so hot, and Jared is spread open, looking like sin, just for him.
“Is it good?” Jensen asks, pulling back and pushing in experimentally, twisting his finger slowly, watching arousal play across Jared’s face like an addict.
“So good,” Jared breathes, starting to pump his hips slowly to meet Jensen’s thrusts. “Want more,” he demands.
“Too soon,” Jensen says, reduced to the barest remnants of his vocabulary by the way Jared looks, his hole eagerly swallowing Jensen’s finger, his neck arched back and exposed, Jensen’s purpling marks dotting his chest.
“Not,” Jared says, reaching down to grab Jensen’s wrist, guiding it into the rhythm he wants. “I know. Practiced.”
Jensen groans at the mental picture, and at what that means, adding another finger before his higher brain can even kick in and debate the issue. “Fuck,” he hisses, feeling the muscles at first clench and then loosen around his fingers, much faster than they should for a virgin ass. “When?”
“This morning. Yesterday. Day before that, in the shower. Day before that. Lots of times,” he pants in time to Jensen’s fingers twisting inside him, and Jensen is going to fucking die, thinking about Jared experimenting with his own fingers, figuring out how to touch himself, how to open for Jensen’s dick.
“Gonna show me,” Jensen says, withdrawing his hand and replacing it with Jared’s, dribbling lube onto Jared’s hole, getting it all over the sheets and all over Jared’s hand. Jared moans and complies, planting his heels on the bed and sinking two fingers into himself, to the hilt. Jensen watches the smooth push and glide a few times, until Jared sinks in a third, that pink muscle stretched and pulled around the girth of Jared’s fingers. “Oh fuck,” Jensen breathes, tracing the tight skin with his slick fingers, letting the tip catch the edge and dip in a little, brushing against Jared’s, inside his hole. Jared keens and Jensen watches his dick leak precome onto his stomach as their fingers work together, and that is it, he has got to be inside, right the fuck now.
He doesn’t fumble with the condom, rolls it on smooth and easy, and Jared is ready for it, opens his thighs and tilts his hips and Jensen is right there on his knees, the head of his cock pressed up against Jared’s asshole. Jared nods, and Jensen flexes his hips, pushing slow but inexorable, the wide head spreading Jared open as it pops in. Jensen pants, his head falls forward, and the only things keeping him from coming are the knowledge that Jared will tease him mercilessly afterward and his desire for more, more of this, more heat, and tightness, more of Jared, surrounding him, his taste still lingering in Jensen’s mouth, his body welcoming Jensen’s cock.
Jared grunts, and Jensen opens his eyes to check Jared’s expression, pain-free, nothing but pleasure and need. He pushes harder, encountering resistance where his fingers weren’t long enough to reach, feeling the flesh part for his cock, rocking his hips in short, shallow thrusts, letting Jared’s insides get used to his presence. It’s a slow process, Jensen prodding, Jared’s body giving way little by little, inch by inch. By the time Jensen is balls deep, they’re both covered in sweat and shaking, Jensen from holding back, Jared from the strain of being speared open, completely full.
“You okay?” Jensen asks, and he barely recognizes the rasp of his voice.
“Oh, yeah,” Jared says. “Anytime you wanna start.”
Jensen laughs with joy and relief, and does exactly what Jared says, because fuck it, he knows now exactly who’s in charge here. He rolls his hips, letting Jared get used to the sensation of something moving inside, before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting long and slow back in. The friction is so fucking good, drag of skin eased by lube and latex, and he does it again, and again, and again, until Jared starts meeting him, pumping his lean hips in perfect counter movements, making it feel like Jared’s body is sucking him inside like a mouth.
“Ah, fuck,” Jensen groans, feeling his orgasm coiling in his balls. Too soon, fuck, too soon, but damned if he’s going to be able to stop it. He reaches for Jared’s cock, once again fully hard and a painful-looking red, and squeezes, jerking in rough, short strokes that balance the long, deep, smooth thrusts he’s pounding into Jared’s ass. The wet, squelching sound of his lube and pre-come slicked hand working Jared’s dick competes with the noises their hips make as they slap together, and Jared’s moans overpower them both, and there has never been anything so dirty and so good in his life, ever.
The glide of his cock is so much easier now, Jared totally opened up for him, letting him in all the way, and Jensen tries to find the angle that will make it as good for Jared as it is for him, but he doesn’t know if he hits it, just knows this mind-blowing pleasure, snaking up his spine and outward along all of his nerve endings. He hears begging, and at first thinks it’s Jared, but it’s him, his sex-rough voice pleading with Jared, “Come for me, please, come for me, need you to, need it, baby, please come.”
And Jensen really doesn’t know if it’s the begging that does it for Jared, or if by some miracle he’s managed to hit Jared’s prostate with his clumsy, out of control thrusts, but either way, Jared does, he comes for Jensen, spurts all the way up to his chin, into his belly button, all over his own gorgeous dick. Jensen sees it before he feels it inside, the rhythmic clench and release of Jared’s inner muscles rippling around his cock, and he whites out as his orgasm hits, hips driving deep so that he’s buried in Jared, filling the condom with his load. He feels like he’s coming forever, shuddering and seizing, finally collapsing on top of Jared, their bodies plastered together with sweat and come, Jared’s arms encircling his upper back like none of that bothers him at all.
Jensen knows he should pull out, that Jared is going to be sore, no matter how much he enjoyed it, and it’s better to get the pulling out part over with while the endorphins are still rushing, but he doesn’t want to leave. He sighs with contentment, and feels Jared smile against his neck.
“That was pretty good,” Jared says, and Jensen is so blissed out, he doesn’t even protest the qualifier, just grunts in agreement.
“But you know I’m still a virgin, right?” His tone is playful, but incredibly, it’s also turned on. Again. The kid is a machine.
Jensen’s spent cock twitches as he thinks about the virginity Jared still needs to lose, more than willing, damned eager, actually. “I’ll be your first,” Jensen says, his entire body and soul buzzing with contentment and warmth. “Any way you want.”
Author:: neros_violin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Word count: 7,064
Summary: PWP, for transfixeddream’spn-j2-xmas exchange prompt Jensen slowly but surely corrupts his neighbor's fresh-out-of-high school kid into all things sexy and gay. I think it’s possible that the corruption happened the other way around, but I hope you like it anyway!
Author’s Notes: Thanks to scintilla10 for the wonderful beta work. One of these days I’m going to have to start paying you. ;)
Jensen creeps down the stairs in bare feet, careful of the fifth one from the bottom (that stair had been responsible for his getting caught sneaking in at three in the morning way too many times, creaking and groaning, ratting him out as loud as his little sister when he stuck his tongue out at her). His heart is tripping over its own beats, out of whack from nerves, a dose of fear, and strange, out-of-place anticipation; he’s got the Louisville Slugger slung over his shoulder, the bat that won his high school team the Regional Championship, and his knee might be fucked, but he’s still got his grand slam swing.
It’s pitch-dark in the hallway, no lamplight peeking under doors, no blue glow of hibernating electronics. He approaches the den and hears the noise again, unmistakable thunk of shoes on the hardwood, followed by a soft curse. Jesus fuck, someone really is in his house.
Jensen’s hands reflexively tighten around the neck of the bat, and muscle memory just as automatically loosens them, grip nice and relaxed, a soft touch, like he’s back in the batter’s box. He takes a deep, quiet breath, trying to remember if his Mom had rearranged the furniture again while he was away at school, figuring it was smarter to go in and to the left, where the bookshelves made it unlikely he was going to be ambushed by an ottoman.
He thinks that if he doesn’t go in now, he’s probably not going to (his mind has started presenting reasons that confronting an unknown intruder armed only with a baseball bat isn’t the best idea: a) the possibility that there might be two or more against one, b) the possibility that said intruder or intruders is carrying a gun, c) the possibility that he will be facing off against an alien invader or zombie or some other equally unlikely preternatural creature that he hasn’t planned for). He tells himself to shut up and rushes into the den, hooking left like he’d planned. He can see the guy’s shadow, the barest hint of the streetlight finding its way in at the edges of the dark, thick drapes. The guy is big, bigger than Jensen for sure, and there’s no doubt in Jensen’s mind that he looks like a flashlight in his white t-shirt and light blue hospital scrubs, so he fucking goes for it, swings first while he has the advantage of surprise. There is a small part of his brain registering exactly how good it feels to do this, planting his back foot and putting his hips and back into the motion, perfect extension, so much power, such a rush, nothing like it, and he’s aiming low, going for knee level (he’d always loved the low ones), when the guy puts his hands up and shouts.
“Jensen!”
Oh, fuck. He recognizes that voice - Jared, in his family’s fucking living room in the middle of the fucking night on a fucking Tuesday, why not? - but he’s already committed to the swing, couldn’t stop it for a million bucks. So he just opens his hands and lets the bat drop, clattering to the floor and hitting Jared in the knee anyway on the bounce.
“Ow,” he says, still just a shadow, bent over, rubbing its lower leg.
“Fuck you, ow!” Jensen yells, all that adrenaline pounding in his ears, anger and fear at what he’d almost done. He curls his fingers into fists to keep from pushing, knocking Jared onto his ass, energy sparking along his nerves, nowhere to go now but in, because as much as he might want to, he’s not going to hit Jared. “What are you doing here?”
The shadow shrugs, tilts its head in a way Jensen recognizes, can see as clearly as if it were high noon, Jared’s sheepish puppy look, the one that he uses to get out of everything he doesn’t want to be in, and to get into everything he does. “I, uh. Got back from Grandma’s early.”
“I can see that,” Jensen says, his voice low and dangerous. “What are you doing breaking into my house in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I can’t climb into your window because I’m afraid of heights. I guess it’s not so much that I’m afraid of heights, as that I’m afraid of falling. Heights are fine really, nothing against them, I really liked visiting the Sears Tower, but that’s enclosed, right? Anyway, this window presented itself as the best solution. First floor. Unlocked. Drapes instead of blinds. Hidden from the street. Opportune, really.”
Jensen laughs, or tries to, but it comes out as a half-sob, all his wires still jangled and crossed. “You have an alternative career you wanna tell me about?”
Jensen’s eyes are adjusting to the dark, and he can see just enough of Jared’s face to make out the pleased curve of his lips, the relief in his sagging shoulders. “Nope, nobody here but the neighborhood landscaper. I just watch a lot of Law and Order and CSI and stuff. Educational television.”
“Jared.”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you just knock?”
“Can we go to your room? I like your room. The window in your room was the penultimate goal - this window was just a stand in for your window.”
Jensen has been spending too much time with the kid, obviously, because he takes the transition as smoothly and abruptly as Jared offers it, shrugging. He picks up the bat and turns back into the hall. He feels Jared’s fingers hook in the back of his scrub pants, the tips of his fingers just brushing the lowest part of Jensen’s back, or the highest part of his ass, depending on one’s perspective. Jared leans in close, close enough that Jensen can feel his body heat through the thin clothes he’s wearing from neck to ankles, and whispers against the tender shell of Jensen’s ear. “Can’t see.”
Jensen clenches his teeth, adjusts his rapidly hardening dick, and wonders when he turned into a masochist.
His entire short relationship with Jared has been torture, most of it of his own making. He saw Jared for the first time on his second day home from school, taking one last summer off to work with his Dad at the shop before starting the hardcore graduate program in Physical Therapy at UT Austin. He had plans, ones that involved sleeping in and eating his Mom’s food and spending quality time with the old man, like they used to when he was a kid.
Instead, he was rudely awakened at eight a.m. on day two by the loud, droning whine of a small engine right under his fucking open window. He got up to slam it shut, happened to glance outside, and was suddenly half-awake and fully hard. The guy using his parents’ ancient push-style lawnmower was smoking hot, wearing threadbare jeans, his white t-shirt hanging like a fucking flag of surrender from his back pocket. His long, lean limbs were browned by the sun, and his muscles stood out with strain, highlighted by the light sheen of sweat dotting his narrow torso. Jensen planted his elbows on the windowsill and watched the rest of the show, noticing other details once he managed to move his eyes from the hypnotic bunch and release of the guy’s abs: shaggy brown hair, bright pink mouth, tight, high ass. When the guy finally finished the yard, wiping his brow with the t-shirt before putting it back on to stretch across his shoulders, Jensen went back to bed and had one of the most satisfying jerk-off sessions of his entire life, falling into a deep sleep immediately after that he didn’t emerge from until noon. He woke up with a smile on his face, and grinned like a moron through his shower and shave. He was goddamn whistling by the time he went downstairs, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug. She smiled, clearly a little surprised by his display, but pleased, and said, Honey, I’d like you to meet Jared,. It was all over after that.
Because the lawnmower guy, the incredibly, achingly hot guy that Jensen had spent the morning ogling, jerking off to, and probably dreaming about, was jailbait. The kid - he was a fucking kid, all eager eyes and toothy grin, and his limbs weren’t long, they were lanky, probably still growing, for god’s sake - stuck out his hand for Jensen to shake and Jensen tried not to notice the really long fingers or the way Jared’s hand practically dwarfed his own, but he couldn’t. He noticed, his dick noticed, and it continued to notice, loudly and with obvious pleasure, every single time that he saw Jared every single day for the next two weeks, because Jared’s parents and Jensen’s parents had apparently become best friends since the Padaleckis moved next door in January. Jared’s parents both worked, so Jensen’s parents had volunteered to keep Jared busy and fed over the summer. Consequently, Jared was in Jensen’s space all the time; at Dad’s shop, bending metal and mixing paint, fingers dirty with oil and smears of paint on his perfect, high cheekbones, at home, sitting across from Jensen at the dinner table, shoveling in Mom’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes like the growing boy he is, grinning and making everybody happy just by osmosis or something; at the parties Jensen went to on Thursday and Friday and Saturday nights because Jared had an older brother who had introduced him to all the people Jensen knew and hung out with from high school. It was all Jared, all the time, and it would have been bearable if Jared had just been some asshole teenager like Jensen had been at that age, lazy and self-centered and stupid, but he wasn’t. Jensen watched him work his ass off at the shop, and help Jensen cook dinner when it was his night, and take Mrs. Henderson’s dogs out for walks because she couldn’t go very far since her hip replacement. And he wanted, because that pretty exterior was just window dressing for a smart, interesting, kind person. It just wasn’t fair, damn it.
But not only was Jared barely legal (he turned eighteen four days after Jensen jerked off to images of the kid on his knees in front of him, Jesus Christ), he’d given no indication that he was anything less than your average straight Texas boy, who loved Jesus and football and everyone’s Mama.
Thinking that helped, for a week or two. Then Jensen had a few too many drinks at Carlson’s party, and maybe he flirted, a little, maybe he flirted a lot, maybe he was really fucking obvious about it, licking his lips and leaning back against the bar so that the tight jeans he was wearing showed just how interested he was, but either way, Jared didn’t hit him, or seem grossed out, or offended. He seemed caught, staring at Jensen’s mouth and licking his lips in an unconscious mirror of Jensen, nostrils flaring and pupils dilating, and Jensen can admit this to himself, he was weak that night. He dragged Jared by the belt loops into a room - he has no idea whose, just that it had a bed, and that he stripped the sheets after because that’s the considerate thing to do - and proceeded to kiss the hell out of him, pulling out every stop he knew because once he had this, had Jared, he wanted to fucking keep him, wanted it to be so good for Jared that he wouldn’t ever think of touching anybody but Jensen, wanted the kid to be just as addicted to Jensen as Jensen was to him, before they even kissed.
Jensen had him up against the wall, alternating hot, deep, wet kisses with softer, close mouthed ones, wanting Jared to know that Jensen could provide him with the full experience, and Jared, god, he was giving back just as good as he got, it was awesome. They (Jensen) took things to the bed, and he managed to get Jared’s shirt off so he could lick and bite at all that perfect skin, and he couldn’t wait, he had to get his hands on Jared’s dick, and it was amazing, long and rock hard and just the right width and weight to fit Jensen’s palm like it was made for this. He only got in a few strokes before the kid was coming like a rocket, shuddering and shaking all over, and damn if that wasn’t enough to get Jensen off too, jizzing in his pants without being touched, just from touching.
His orgasm burned off some of the booze haze, and as he lay there on the bed, panting, his forearm thrown over his eyes, he started putting two and two together and hoping that it didn’t make four, but he was pretty sure it did. One look at Jared confirmed it, and Jensen felt like he was going to fly and puke at the same time, because holy shit, Jared was a virgin, that had probably been the first time he’d had someone else touch his cock and Jensen had just been his first (he’d boggled for a moment at the thought, because someone as hot as Jared usually didn’t make it to eighteen without getting a piece - people would fucking line up for it, and Jensen would be at the front of the queue). Some part of his brain was screaming yes, yes, first, first, first, mine, mine, mine, grossly triumphant and possessive in a way that Jensen had never, ever been before, while the other part was horrified, because he’d just kind of overpowered the kid, not let him stop to get his breath, and as the more experienced one, that was his responsibility, it was on him.
So he felt like crap, and he apologized, messily. Jared laughed and said are you kidding? and proceeded to remind Jensen about an eighteen year old’s refractory time. Which was nice. But Jensen was determined after that to take it slow, to show Jared how it could be, to ease him into it and give him the chance to say no or back out if that’s what he wanted.
And Jared was going to fucking kill him, because every time they did anything, from just making out on the couch to Jensen on his knees or on his back or on his side, sucking Jared’s dick (there wasn’t anything better on the planet than Jared’s smell and taste and the solid breadth of him stretching Jensen’s mouth open) or vice versa (the first time that happened, Jensen shot off like he was the virgin, eyes closed against the image of it, burned against the back of his eyelids anyway, taking away any illusions of stamina when it came to Jared), Jared begged for it like slut. He pleaded for Jensen to fuck him, to please, please, please Jensen, just do it, put it in me and the first couple of times, it was okay, because Jensen was so turned on by the filthy things Jared was asking for that he couldn’t hold back, just came so hard he saw stars, taking the question of fucking temporarily off the table.
But his dick soon became inured to the pleasant shock value of it, and agreed with Jared that pushing into that tight virgin ass was a truly fantastic idea. His dick insisted, really, throbbed eagerly every time Jared uttered the word fuck, and provided all the instructional imagery Jensen could handle, as though somehow his brain was just forgetting how to fuck, and that his cock would happily help him remember.
Another two weeks they went on like this, until Jensen thought he was going to break from the strain of it. His first time wasn’t great, and he didn’t exactly regret it, but he wished he’d gone into it with a little more forethought and a little less blind lust. So he told Jared about his experience, and when they were both fully clothed and sitting on separate ends of the couch (or preferably at the empty shop, where there were no friendly, soft horizontal surfaces), they talked (argued) about it, with Jensen saying what’s the rush? (as his by now blue balls pulsed angrily in dissent) and Jared stating that grass grew faster than they were going, and things deteriorating from there, though their stand-offs didn’t last too long. One of them always brought a peace offering of gummy worms or Starbucks coffee, and they forgot about it until the next time Jared wanted to get naked and Jensen wanted to keep lube out of it.
It’s not that Jensen doesn’t want to; god, he wants to. He wants it more than he wanted to be a professional baseball player, more than he wanted to date Christy Collins in the ninth grade and then her brother Nathan in senior year, more than he wants to be a sports rehab therapist now. He wants it so much it scares him, and he’s not so self aware that he doesn’t understand that’s a large part, a selfish part, of the reason he’s holding back. Wanting someone this bad scares the hell out of him, and he doesn’t want to do wrong, do bad, fuck up Jared, fuck up himself.
Jensen’s a lot of things, some of them not good, but he’s not stupid. He knows exactly why Jared climbed in his window (well, he still doesn’t understand why the kid didn’t just come to the front door) when his parents aren’t home, and he can feel himself starting to shake as he climbs the stairs up to his room. Because Jensen’s pretty sure that if Jared offers tonight, he’s not going to have the willpower to turn him down.
*
Jensen shuts the door behind them, even though they’re alone in the house. It could just be his imagination - he could have watched one too many rom-coms with Mac - but it feels like they’re shut up in their own little world, with just enough air and light for two.
The thought is so ridiculous that he laughs, and Jared laughs too, because that’s just how they roll. Their eyes meet and catch, and suddenly neither of them is laughing. Jensen had been listening to Jeff Buckley when he heard the noise downstairs, the volume down low, going to sleep volume, so the room is full of soft guitar and soft lamplight.
“You trying to seduce me?” Jared asks, teasing, flashing the dimples.
“I thought you were seducing me, with the whole window-climbing thing,” Jensen says, taking a few steps forward, crowding Jared against the edge of the bed. He doesn’t back down at all, just grins wider.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, and reaches to pull off his shirt. Jensen’s eyes follow his graceful motion, eagerly taking in every inch of bared skin and shifting muscle, his hands reaching up of their own accord to follow the hem of Jared’s shirt, up along his abs and pecs and finally onto his smooth, broad shoulders. “You’re so easy. All I gotta do is take off my shirt, you’re so hot for my body,” Jared says, mocking words, but his breathless tone gives away the game.
“Yeah,” Jensen growls, unrepentant and unwilling to lie - he is so fucking hot for Jared’s body, it’s going to burn him up - and tugs Jared’s head down for a kiss. His fingers tangle in the soft strands of Jared’s hair, and Jensen gives into the urge and pulls, using his grip to put Jared’s head exactly where he wants it. He licks at the seam of Jared’s lips, growls again as Jared opens up easily, lets Jensen sink his tongue deep, slowing down to savour the contours of Jared’s mouth, hot and slick and soft. He feels like the top of his head is going to fly off, sensation setting off nerve endings he didn’t know he had, goddamn. He could do this all day, just kiss Jared, because it feels better than fucking anyone else, shocky bursts of arousal in the usual places and in the oddest places, at the crooks of his elbows and behind his knees and the insides of his wrists, his bellybutton, for god’s sake.
Jared sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and slides his arms around Jensen’s waist, practically picking him up off the ground, and then they’re just grabbing at each other, Jensen’s hands yanking at Jared’s hair, Jared’s fingers digging welcome bruises into Jensen’s back.
Jensen can feel Jared’s cock against his hip, and he groans and presses their lower bodies together harder, mindlessly giving Jared something to rub up against, loving the feeling, already flying, just getting higher as Jared keens, the sound of his pleasure spiking Jensen’s blood, getting him drunk on it. There is nothing like this, nothing.
Somehow their legs get tangled up, and they fall to the bed, bouncing together, breaking the kiss just long enough not to break their teeth. Jensen gives some thought to slowing down, but it’s like his body is on full tilt, ready and willing to give Jared what he’s been asking for, as fast as possible.
He’s got his own clothes and the rest of Jared’s off in the time it takes for Jared to arrange the pillows under his head and Jared’s cock is just so mouth-wateringly attractive that Jensen has to taste it, long, luxurious licks at the base, the crinkle of Jared’s pubic hair tickling his nose. He works his way around the impressive girth of it, getting it so wet with spit that it drips into the crease of Jared’s thigh, and Jared groans when Jensen chases those beads of moisture, licking the taut muscle, letting the edge of his tongue brush lightly, teasingly at one side of Jared’s balls.
“Fuck, Jensen, just, god, fuck me already,” and Jensen has every intention of doing just that, but as much as he and Jared get along, they get along like brothers, better than brothers really, but there’s a little bit of brother stuff there, a little bit of competitiveness, a little bit of alpha positioning. So when Jared demands like that, when Jensen realizes that Jared is this fucking close to getting what he wants, on his terms, it cuts through his thick arousal like a knife and he suddenly remembers that he’s the older one, the more experienced one, the one with control.
He slides up Jared’s body, letting his nipples rub against all that muscle on his way, relishing the sensation of flesh on flesh, the mind-blowing eroticism of skin on skin. He licks and bites at the tendons standing out on Jared’s neck before moving up to capture his lips, sucking Jared’s tongue into his mouth, stroking it with his own in an unmistakable imitation of things to come. Jared moans and bucks up, his dick rubbing enticingly and insistently against the cut of Jensen’s hip bone, and Jensen laughs into their kiss because Jared has gotten off just like that on more than one occasion. He pulls his hips up and to the side and Jared rips his mouth away, making these protesting noises that sound like whines, and finally resolve into words. “Please, Jensen, whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want, just do me.”
Jensen leans down then, bites down gently on Jared’s earlobe. “Gonna fuck you, Jared, but you gotta wait for me.” Jared’s body tenses under Jensen’s, like he’s surprised by Jensen’s words, that his begging is finally going to result in something more than just mutual blow jobs, and Jensen starts to worry that maybe Jared doesn’t really want to go further. Maybe the stiffness in his body is hesitation. Maybe he didn’t really think Jensen would give in, and he doesn’t really want him to.
“What do you think I’ve been doing? Been waiting for fucking ever, you asshole,” Jared pants, and Jensen exhales in relief, trying to cover it and recover himself by running his tongue along the cartilage of Jared’s ear.
“Wanna ... make it good for you. Wanna do it right,” Jensen says, flexing his hips so that their dicks drag together, rough friction made slick by Jensen’s spit and the precome that they’ve both been leaking. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say (he does, but he won’t think it), but Jared must get it. His hands go up, above his head, crossed, and the gesture speaks so clearly of trust and submission that Jensen has to grip the base of his cock to keep from spurting all over Jared’s flat belly.
“Jesus Christ, Jared,” Jensen murmurs, grasping Jared’s wrists with one hand, sliding his other in between their bodies to find Jared’s erection, still diamond-hard and weeping fluid, slicking up Jensen’s hand for an easy glide. Jensen tightens his grip and leans back to look at Jared’s face, eyes closed and cheekbones flushed dark. “Gonna make it good for you,” he promises.
“I know,” Jared says, and Jensen squeezes his wrists again before letting go, working one hand constantly on Jared’s dick, while his mouth explores. He finds the spot on Jared’s shoulder that they both like, sets his teeth in it deep enough to make a mark. He’s not usually a possessive lover, never wanted to own anybody, but he feels like he wants to get inside Jared, can’t be close enough, and leaving the imprints of his teeth in Jared’s skin is the best he can do.
He licks a warm line from the mark along Jared’s collarbone, following a cut of muscle along the edge of his pectoral, down to where his scent is strong and clean. Jensen buries his nose there, inhaling, and Jared’s hands come down, onto Jensen’s shoulders, pushing then pulling, as though he’s not sure whether he wants Jensen to stop or keep going. Jensen nips the tender flesh and takes one last, deep breath, the smell setting off a slow, hard throb in his cock.
Jared’s hands are definitely pushing now, insistently guiding Jensen to where Jared wants him to go, and Jared groans when Jensen loosens his fingers around his cock, the barest hint of a grip, and goes for Jared’s small brown nipple with the tip of his tongue instead. Jared grabs as much of Jensen’s short hair as he can and tugs - hard enough to bring tears to Jensen’s eyes and to set off another aching pulse in his cock - which is probably both encouragement for the nipple play and punishment for practically ignoring his dick. Jensen just smiles and shuts his eyes, determined to enjoy every second of his mouth on Jared’s sensitive nipples. He closes his mouth over the left one, creates suction, lets his tongue slip and slide over the tiny nub until it’s hard as a pebble, and he moans at the sensation. It’s a hell of a kink, but feeling that little bud tighten under his tongue has always ramped him up, so that he always loses track of time and his own arousal doing it, and tonight is no exception. He sucks and licks at Jared’s nipples until they’re red and wet with spit, hearing nothing but the rush of his heartbeat in his ears and Jared’s soft curses, lost in taste and texture. He only relents when Jared’s moans turn to desperate hisses every time his cock brushes accidentally against Jensen’s flank, and Jensen realizes that at this point, Jared’s probably hurting for relief.
“Sorry,” Jensen murmurs, dropping a quick kiss on Jared’s panting mouth, unable to resist slipping his tongue into that wet heat.
“Owe me,” Jared says between heaving breaths, and Jensen just fucking loves this kid, loves the random, quick turns of his mind and his giant, too-vulnerable heart and his smart, filthy mouth. He loves the inner corner of his hazel fox-eyes, he loves the slope of his nose and his flushed, sharp cheekbones and his long, slender neck. He loves the way Jared looks in his bed, hair tousled and angry-red cock lying flat against the perfect plane of his stomach, and he has to hide his face in the bend of Jared’s neck and suck air to keep from losing it.
Jared seems to understand that Jensen needs a moment, and he curves his big hand around the back of Jensen’s neck while he plants kisses on every part of Jensen’s head and shoulders that he can reach, lips on his hair and jaw and collarbone. It grounds Jensen enough that he can speak again, and he whispers, “Owe you big time.”
“Get to it, then. Don’t want to start accruing interest.”
Jensen laughs softly and stays long enough to make a mark to match the one on Jared’s left side before abruptly finding Jared’s cock with his lips, opening his mouth wide and sliding down, down, down, the harsh jerk of Jared’s hips driving him deeper as Jensen flattens his tongue against the flared head. Jared tastes incredible, sweet skin and bitter musk, and Jensen holds Jared down so that he can explore at his leisure, suck and draw out more of the precome that bursts like pop rocks on his tongue. Jared is hard, his skin stretched tight along the length, and Jensen can feel him getting bigger, getting ready to come. He toys with the idea of holding him back, but Jensen’s body seems to have other ideas, his hand rising automatically to fondle Jared’s tight sac, encouraging, while his sinks lower on Jared’s cock, opening right up so that his head just pops right into Jensen’s throat.
Jensen feels Jared’s groan start low in his belly, pulled up and out, almost harsh, as he starts to let go, hot fluid shooting down Jensen's throat. Jensen swallows reflexively, and the groan turns to a shout as Jared pulses again and again, so much come that Jensen can’t take it all, can feel it dribble and slide out the side of his mouth, down his chin. He sucks Jared dry, but Jared barely softens in his mouth, cock still beautifully flushed with blood, not quite as hard but still very, very erect, and he thinks that there are definitely some advantages to having an eighteen year old boyfriend.
He lays his head on the firm pillow of Jared’s thigh and tries to recover his breath, absently aware of Jared’s come cooling on his jaw and his painfully hard dick. He slips his hand around it, cupping, just taking the edge off, and Jared makes a protesting noise.
“No,” Jared says, his hand slapping weakly at the top of Jensen’s head. “Stop it. You said. You said you would.”
Jensen’s head is fuzzy, like he’s the one who just came his brains out, so he really can’t be blamed for having no idea what Jared is talking about. “Huh?”
His pillow shifts, and he looks up to see Jared propped up on his elbows, his eyes narrowed. “If you come without fucking me, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Jensen bares his teeth, and something dark and primal flushes through him. “Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” he promises, and where the hell did that come from?
“Then stop jerking yourself off and get to it already,” Jared demands, and he’s just being himself, his usual bratty, irresistible self, but that dark thing rears up and roars, driving Jensen to his knees as he grips Jared’s thighs and pushes them apart, wide open, exposing Jared’s heavy balls and the light pink pucker of his asshole.
“Fine,” he growls, hooking Jared’s legs over his arms at the elbows, dragging him up and tilting his hips. Jensen’s mouth is on Jared an instant later, licking a long, slow line from the top of Jared’s crack to his perineum, and again, getting everything nice and wet. Jared bucks and jerks but Jensen’s got a good grip, and he just tightens his hold. He wriggles his tongue between Jared’s tight cheeks, feels the slightly rough, tender texture of Jared’s hole, and it’s teasing him as much as it’s teasing Jared, because he can’t get to it, can’t get deep like he wants to. He drops Jared’s hips back to the bed and follows, propped on his elbows with his ass in the air like he’s the one waiting to get fucked. He grips the globes of Jared’s ass, spreading him open with his thumbs, and he dives in, leaving messy stripes of spit all over Jared’s pucker. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, massages it with the flat, rough part, working it until it glistens with moisture, until the soft pink flushes dark. Jared’s got goosebumps on his inner thighs and he’s shaking, the good kind of shake, and Jensen is rewarded with a full-body shudder when he dips inside, just a small incursion, but definitely penetration.
“Ohmygod,” Jared babbles, and Jensen does it again, going in a little deeper each time, letting the spit gather on his tongue so that he can push it inside Jared’s body, get that smooth, hot muscle slick and slicker. Jared is tight, so fucking tight as Jensen spears his tongue into his body, and he’s gotta get a finger in there, has to start stretching because he doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last, assaulted by the taste and feel of Jared around him, the sounds Jared is making above him.
He fumbles around for the lube - he’s never kept it under the mattress before, he’s not a fucking porn star, but it comes in handy with Jared around - and grabs one of the condoms conveniently stowed with it (ones that he didn’t put there, and right now he’s grateful for Jared’s forethought and sneakery). He pours some into his hand, warming it, before slicking up his fingers. When his fingertip brushes the wet opening, they both moan, and Jensen pushes in slow and shallow, just to the first knuckle, testing. Jared’s mouth falls open and his eyes roll into the back of his head, so Jensen keeps going, wanting to put that look on Jared’s face every day, all the time. The base of his finger brushes against Jared’s cheek before he stops, and oh god, it’s so snug inside, and so hot, and Jared is spread open, looking like sin, just for him.
“Is it good?” Jensen asks, pulling back and pushing in experimentally, twisting his finger slowly, watching arousal play across Jared’s face like an addict.
“So good,” Jared breathes, starting to pump his hips slowly to meet Jensen’s thrusts. “Want more,” he demands.
“Too soon,” Jensen says, reduced to the barest remnants of his vocabulary by the way Jared looks, his hole eagerly swallowing Jensen’s finger, his neck arched back and exposed, Jensen’s purpling marks dotting his chest.
“Not,” Jared says, reaching down to grab Jensen’s wrist, guiding it into the rhythm he wants. “I know. Practiced.”
Jensen groans at the mental picture, and at what that means, adding another finger before his higher brain can even kick in and debate the issue. “Fuck,” he hisses, feeling the muscles at first clench and then loosen around his fingers, much faster than they should for a virgin ass. “When?”
“This morning. Yesterday. Day before that, in the shower. Day before that. Lots of times,” he pants in time to Jensen’s fingers twisting inside him, and Jensen is going to fucking die, thinking about Jared experimenting with his own fingers, figuring out how to touch himself, how to open for Jensen’s dick.
“Gonna show me,” Jensen says, withdrawing his hand and replacing it with Jared’s, dribbling lube onto Jared’s hole, getting it all over the sheets and all over Jared’s hand. Jared moans and complies, planting his heels on the bed and sinking two fingers into himself, to the hilt. Jensen watches the smooth push and glide a few times, until Jared sinks in a third, that pink muscle stretched and pulled around the girth of Jared’s fingers. “Oh fuck,” Jensen breathes, tracing the tight skin with his slick fingers, letting the tip catch the edge and dip in a little, brushing against Jared’s, inside his hole. Jared keens and Jensen watches his dick leak precome onto his stomach as their fingers work together, and that is it, he has got to be inside, right the fuck now.
He doesn’t fumble with the condom, rolls it on smooth and easy, and Jared is ready for it, opens his thighs and tilts his hips and Jensen is right there on his knees, the head of his cock pressed up against Jared’s asshole. Jared nods, and Jensen flexes his hips, pushing slow but inexorable, the wide head spreading Jared open as it pops in. Jensen pants, his head falls forward, and the only things keeping him from coming are the knowledge that Jared will tease him mercilessly afterward and his desire for more, more of this, more heat, and tightness, more of Jared, surrounding him, his taste still lingering in Jensen’s mouth, his body welcoming Jensen’s cock.
Jared grunts, and Jensen opens his eyes to check Jared’s expression, pain-free, nothing but pleasure and need. He pushes harder, encountering resistance where his fingers weren’t long enough to reach, feeling the flesh part for his cock, rocking his hips in short, shallow thrusts, letting Jared’s insides get used to his presence. It’s a slow process, Jensen prodding, Jared’s body giving way little by little, inch by inch. By the time Jensen is balls deep, they’re both covered in sweat and shaking, Jensen from holding back, Jared from the strain of being speared open, completely full.
“You okay?” Jensen asks, and he barely recognizes the rasp of his voice.
“Oh, yeah,” Jared says. “Anytime you wanna start.”
Jensen laughs with joy and relief, and does exactly what Jared says, because fuck it, he knows now exactly who’s in charge here. He rolls his hips, letting Jared get used to the sensation of something moving inside, before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting long and slow back in. The friction is so fucking good, drag of skin eased by lube and latex, and he does it again, and again, and again, until Jared starts meeting him, pumping his lean hips in perfect counter movements, making it feel like Jared’s body is sucking him inside like a mouth.
“Ah, fuck,” Jensen groans, feeling his orgasm coiling in his balls. Too soon, fuck, too soon, but damned if he’s going to be able to stop it. He reaches for Jared’s cock, once again fully hard and a painful-looking red, and squeezes, jerking in rough, short strokes that balance the long, deep, smooth thrusts he’s pounding into Jared’s ass. The wet, squelching sound of his lube and pre-come slicked hand working Jared’s dick competes with the noises their hips make as they slap together, and Jared’s moans overpower them both, and there has never been anything so dirty and so good in his life, ever.
The glide of his cock is so much easier now, Jared totally opened up for him, letting him in all the way, and Jensen tries to find the angle that will make it as good for Jared as it is for him, but he doesn’t know if he hits it, just knows this mind-blowing pleasure, snaking up his spine and outward along all of his nerve endings. He hears begging, and at first thinks it’s Jared, but it’s him, his sex-rough voice pleading with Jared, “Come for me, please, come for me, need you to, need it, baby, please come.”
And Jensen really doesn’t know if it’s the begging that does it for Jared, or if by some miracle he’s managed to hit Jared’s prostate with his clumsy, out of control thrusts, but either way, Jared does, he comes for Jensen, spurts all the way up to his chin, into his belly button, all over his own gorgeous dick. Jensen sees it before he feels it inside, the rhythmic clench and release of Jared’s inner muscles rippling around his cock, and he whites out as his orgasm hits, hips driving deep so that he’s buried in Jared, filling the condom with his load. He feels like he’s coming forever, shuddering and seizing, finally collapsing on top of Jared, their bodies plastered together with sweat and come, Jared’s arms encircling his upper back like none of that bothers him at all.
Jensen knows he should pull out, that Jared is going to be sore, no matter how much he enjoyed it, and it’s better to get the pulling out part over with while the endorphins are still rushing, but he doesn’t want to leave. He sighs with contentment, and feels Jared smile against his neck.
“That was pretty good,” Jared says, and Jensen is so blissed out, he doesn’t even protest the qualifier, just grunts in agreement.
“But you know I’m still a virgin, right?” His tone is playful, but incredibly, it’s also turned on. Again. The kid is a machine.
Jensen’s spent cock twitches as he thinks about the virginity Jared still needs to lose, more than willing, damned eager, actually. “I’ll be your first,” Jensen says, his entire body and soul buzzing with contentment and warmth. “Any way you want.”