Fic: et cum spiritu tuo (J2, NC-17)
Fic: et cum spiritu tuo
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1600
Summary/Notes: Kink Bingo, I am on you. For held down. And also for _mournthewicked, who wanted Jared speaking filthy Latin in bed.
"The thing about demons," Jared says, in a voice as low and firm as his hand at the small of Jensen's back, "is that you gotta scream them out, y'know?" He leans in, mouth ghosting damp up the dip of Jensen's spine, breath hot on the nape of his neck. "I can feel it in you, Jen. Hot. Manic." He turns his head, nips at the bolt of Jensen's jaw. "Think I can make you scream, get all that filth outta you?"
Jensen's breath is quickening, rasping in his throat. Jared's hand moves, big and broad, up the length of him, pinioning him still, and Jensen feels his pulse pound rapid under his skin, a frantic minuet. "Jared," he tries, feeling daring and ragged and hot, but Jared only laughs so Jensen can feel it, bites at the uppermost vertebra of his spine.
"Exorcizamus te," Jared breathes, and the words slither down through Jensen's skin, right to the hot core of wanting in his blood, fierce, demonic. "Omnis immundus spiritus..."
God, it's hot. It's always been hot, the low, somnolent endlessness of those words in Jared's mouth, but never quite like this, never with Jensen in nothing but his bare, fevered skin for protection. Rationally, he knows it isn't real; knows it's only a dead language making Jared's voice roll out of him like that, and not magic. Right now, though, it doesn't feel that way. Right now, with Jared's palm bleeding heat between his shoulderblades, Jared's voice in his ear, Jensen feels unhinged, in thrall. His breath is loud in his own ears, his cock hard and leaking where it's pressed into the bed. Against his ass, Jared is big and clear and hot through his jeans, and his mouth forms "Omnis satanica --" like sin or salvation against the vulnerable nape of Jensen's neck.
Jensen bites his lip on a moan, rocks back into it. It's stupid -- Jared's barely touched him -- but God, those words in Jared's mouth are like an incantation, old, old magic pulsing through him with his blood like lust. "Jay," he manages, but Jared only nips a little harder, his wet open mouth a warning, the graze of teeth a promise.
"Omnis incursio," Jared says, and Jensen's cock jumps, blurting out a smear of slickness, the first of the furious heat inside of him charmed out by Jared's voice. "Infernalis adversarii --"
Jared's fingers find Jensen easily, lube-slick and deft, rubbing little circles until the muscle gives, clenches and opens to his command. Jensen hitches a breath, long and low, and rubs his cheek reflexively against the pillow. He's strung out, aching, hips hitching back and forth reflexively, and Jared's first finger shoves into him smooth as a knife into butter. Jensen feels it spark in his spine, hears Jared hiss omnis legio, warm against the sharp edge of a shoulderblade, teeth scraping after over sweat and the sound. "Omnis congregatio," Jared says, pushes in a second finger, impossibly soon, as if he has a power over Jensen's body that comes from somewhere deeper than the spice-hot smell of him, the size and weight of him blanketing Jensen's back. Jensen can feel him, the shape of his mouth as it forms the words, secta diabolica.
"Fuck," Jensen hisses; bucks back onto Jared's fingers and moans. "Jared, come on. Jesus -- " And he flinches, words stuttering out of him broken and tight as Jared crooks his fingers, presses hard against that place inside of him that whites out the world.
Behind him, Jared's starting to lose it, the edges of his voice gone thin and shivering. But when he spits "Christo --" and scissors his fingers -- quick, fierce jabs that make Jensen spasm -- there's deliberation there, and it's hot, fuck, curling through Jensen like fire. He squirms at the touch, makes to lift his head, but Jared's hand is an immovable force, pinning his upper body flat to the mattress, and his forearm stiffens when Jensen shoves against it, fingernails digging just slightly into flesh.
"Not done with you yet," Jared murmurs, low, and Jensen is trembling even before he hears the buzz of Jared's zipper, the newly wet sound of his fist on his own bare cock. His hissed exhalation, wanton, close. His fingers are still pumping shallowly in and out of the tight clench of Jensen's body, catching every nerve ending he has, and Jensen feels the need for it now like a compulsion, wants Jared to punch it out of him, fuck him clean.
"Do it," he grits, shoulders flexing uselessly again under Jared's palm, and then Jared's breathing tightly behind him, rubbing the slick fat head of his cock against Jensen's rim as he withdraws his fingers. It's a fractional touch, a cruel fucking tease. Jensen shoves back into it, lifts his pelvis off the mattress inasmuch as Jared will let him, cheek shifting rhythmic, instinctive, against the pillow. "Jared," he says, and Jared's in control, but he isn't averse to some slight persuasion. Jensen can hear in his breathing that he's near, hears it in the tell-tale bitten-back whimper as the first slick inch of him breaches Jensen, hips pistoning forward, shallow and involuntary.
"Want it?" Jared demands, and shit, his voice is shot, now, shaking. He pulses forward, and Jensen has to gasp for breath, the position constricting his chest, lungs rasping helplessly in search of more oxygen. "Want me to fuck it outta you, huh?" Jared rolls his hips, tracing a slow circle like a promise, just barely inside.
"Yes," Jensen bites out, shoves back harder, and that's, God, that's his body pulling Jared fiercely in, opening for the girth of him, swallowing him deeper. "In nomine et virtute --" He doesn't know what makes him do it, what strung-out, stupid impulse, but it feels good in his mouth, the words entrenched, so strange and so familiar. "Jared -- "
"Shit." And Jared rolls his hips forward, long hard fuck that hits Jensen at his core, splays his muscles open until he feels it everywhere. Tendrils of want and lust snake out into his fingers and his toes like veins of silver. "Domini nostri," Jared rasps, and his fingers scrabble for purchase on Jensen's hips, slipping in sweat. "Jesu et -- Christi -- eradicare --"
"Fuck," Jensen grits into the pillow, half-sobbing, as the beginnings of orgasm hook him in the pit of his belly like a command, like possession. "Jared, come on. Come on."
Jared's snapping into him hard, now, jagged little fucks that shove the points of his hipbones into the swell of Jensen's ass, breath punching out of them both in helpless, pathetic gasps. "Effugare," Jared manages, but it's thready, and Jensen can feel in his blood that Jared's losing it; feels him fattening impossibly inside of him, the thrust of his cock, leaking slick. His fingers are bruising on Jensen's hipbones; the hand on Jensen's back is still firm, relentless, and Jensen can't help but push back into the pressure, feeling it resonate in his ribs and spine. "Dei," Jared spits; scrapes his teeth against the nape of Jensen's neck, and Jensen's cock is rubbing, oversensitised, against the sheets, drooling pre-come. "Ecclesia," Jared breathes into Jensen's damp skin, and he feels it ricochet through him like a bullet, seizing up his muscles, purgative.
"Shit," Jensen spits, and like that, he's coming, long, sticky strings of it pulsing on the sheets, teeth scraping raw against his tongue as he turns his face into the pillow. He pulses his hips, involuntary. It stutters out of him from somewhere deep; keeps on coming, and then Jared freezes, too, fucks in hard, and his long, low groan spurs a last wet spurt out of Jensen's cock as Jared fills him, slicks him clean.
"Jen," Jared groans against the nape of Jensen's neck, hips still working in little figure-eights after Jensen's gone still and slack beneath him, fucked open. "Jesus." This last is low and thin, sloppy, and Jensen can't bring himself to move, has no desire to. His limbs feel leaden, sinking into the bed, and even Jared's weight almost full on his back is no obstacle to his sudden, clinging tiredness, coursing through the hollows the wanting carved out in him. A clean exhaustion, good.
"Sanctus," Jared whispers, after a long moment, and then his mouth, soft, pressing a kiss to the place his teeth have scraped raw at the nape of Jensen's neck. It's uncommonly gentle, after the roughness, something warm on the edge of Jensen's understanding. "Sanctus, sanctus Dominus." Another wet kiss, and a slow curl of Jared's tongue. "Jen? Okay?"
And that's Jared, right there, giving Jensen everything he needs and then checking he doesn't mind. Jensen smiles, slow against the pillow.
"Et cum spiritu tuo," Jensen says, and turns, leans up to press a kiss to Jared's mouth.
The guys' next exorcism scene is gonna be hella awkward, but Jared's tongue is wet and clever on his, stroking up over the roof of Jensen's mouth. Jensen's pretty sure it's worth it.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~1600
Summary/Notes: Kink Bingo, I am on you. For held down. And also for _mournthewicked, who wanted Jared speaking filthy Latin in bed.
"The thing about demons," Jared says, in a voice as low and firm as his hand at the small of Jensen's back, "is that you gotta scream them out, y'know?" He leans in, mouth ghosting damp up the dip of Jensen's spine, breath hot on the nape of his neck. "I can feel it in you, Jen. Hot. Manic." He turns his head, nips at the bolt of Jensen's jaw. "Think I can make you scream, get all that filth outta you?"
Jensen's breath is quickening, rasping in his throat. Jared's hand moves, big and broad, up the length of him, pinioning him still, and Jensen feels his pulse pound rapid under his skin, a frantic minuet. "Jared," he tries, feeling daring and ragged and hot, but Jared only laughs so Jensen can feel it, bites at the uppermost vertebra of his spine.
"Exorcizamus te," Jared breathes, and the words slither down through Jensen's skin, right to the hot core of wanting in his blood, fierce, demonic. "Omnis immundus spiritus..."
God, it's hot. It's always been hot, the low, somnolent endlessness of those words in Jared's mouth, but never quite like this, never with Jensen in nothing but his bare, fevered skin for protection. Rationally, he knows it isn't real; knows it's only a dead language making Jared's voice roll out of him like that, and not magic. Right now, though, it doesn't feel that way. Right now, with Jared's palm bleeding heat between his shoulderblades, Jared's voice in his ear, Jensen feels unhinged, in thrall. His breath is loud in his own ears, his cock hard and leaking where it's pressed into the bed. Against his ass, Jared is big and clear and hot through his jeans, and his mouth forms "Omnis satanica --" like sin or salvation against the vulnerable nape of Jensen's neck.
Jensen bites his lip on a moan, rocks back into it. It's stupid -- Jared's barely touched him -- but God, those words in Jared's mouth are like an incantation, old, old magic pulsing through him with his blood like lust. "Jay," he manages, but Jared only nips a little harder, his wet open mouth a warning, the graze of teeth a promise.
"Omnis incursio," Jared says, and Jensen's cock jumps, blurting out a smear of slickness, the first of the furious heat inside of him charmed out by Jared's voice. "Infernalis adversarii --"
Jared's fingers find Jensen easily, lube-slick and deft, rubbing little circles until the muscle gives, clenches and opens to his command. Jensen hitches a breath, long and low, and rubs his cheek reflexively against the pillow. He's strung out, aching, hips hitching back and forth reflexively, and Jared's first finger shoves into him smooth as a knife into butter. Jensen feels it spark in his spine, hears Jared hiss omnis legio, warm against the sharp edge of a shoulderblade, teeth scraping after over sweat and the sound. "Omnis congregatio," Jared says, pushes in a second finger, impossibly soon, as if he has a power over Jensen's body that comes from somewhere deeper than the spice-hot smell of him, the size and weight of him blanketing Jensen's back. Jensen can feel him, the shape of his mouth as it forms the words, secta diabolica.
"Fuck," Jensen hisses; bucks back onto Jared's fingers and moans. "Jared, come on. Jesus -- " And he flinches, words stuttering out of him broken and tight as Jared crooks his fingers, presses hard against that place inside of him that whites out the world.
Behind him, Jared's starting to lose it, the edges of his voice gone thin and shivering. But when he spits "Christo --" and scissors his fingers -- quick, fierce jabs that make Jensen spasm -- there's deliberation there, and it's hot, fuck, curling through Jensen like fire. He squirms at the touch, makes to lift his head, but Jared's hand is an immovable force, pinning his upper body flat to the mattress, and his forearm stiffens when Jensen shoves against it, fingernails digging just slightly into flesh.
"Not done with you yet," Jared murmurs, low, and Jensen is trembling even before he hears the buzz of Jared's zipper, the newly wet sound of his fist on his own bare cock. His hissed exhalation, wanton, close. His fingers are still pumping shallowly in and out of the tight clench of Jensen's body, catching every nerve ending he has, and Jensen feels the need for it now like a compulsion, wants Jared to punch it out of him, fuck him clean.
"Do it," he grits, shoulders flexing uselessly again under Jared's palm, and then Jared's breathing tightly behind him, rubbing the slick fat head of his cock against Jensen's rim as he withdraws his fingers. It's a fractional touch, a cruel fucking tease. Jensen shoves back into it, lifts his pelvis off the mattress inasmuch as Jared will let him, cheek shifting rhythmic, instinctive, against the pillow. "Jared," he says, and Jared's in control, but he isn't averse to some slight persuasion. Jensen can hear in his breathing that he's near, hears it in the tell-tale bitten-back whimper as the first slick inch of him breaches Jensen, hips pistoning forward, shallow and involuntary.
"Want it?" Jared demands, and shit, his voice is shot, now, shaking. He pulses forward, and Jensen has to gasp for breath, the position constricting his chest, lungs rasping helplessly in search of more oxygen. "Want me to fuck it outta you, huh?" Jared rolls his hips, tracing a slow circle like a promise, just barely inside.
"Yes," Jensen bites out, shoves back harder, and that's, God, that's his body pulling Jared fiercely in, opening for the girth of him, swallowing him deeper. "In nomine et virtute --" He doesn't know what makes him do it, what strung-out, stupid impulse, but it feels good in his mouth, the words entrenched, so strange and so familiar. "Jared -- "
"Shit." And Jared rolls his hips forward, long hard fuck that hits Jensen at his core, splays his muscles open until he feels it everywhere. Tendrils of want and lust snake out into his fingers and his toes like veins of silver. "Domini nostri," Jared rasps, and his fingers scrabble for purchase on Jensen's hips, slipping in sweat. "Jesu et -- Christi -- eradicare --"
"Fuck," Jensen grits into the pillow, half-sobbing, as the beginnings of orgasm hook him in the pit of his belly like a command, like possession. "Jared, come on. Come on."
Jared's snapping into him hard, now, jagged little fucks that shove the points of his hipbones into the swell of Jensen's ass, breath punching out of them both in helpless, pathetic gasps. "Effugare," Jared manages, but it's thready, and Jensen can feel in his blood that Jared's losing it; feels him fattening impossibly inside of him, the thrust of his cock, leaking slick. His fingers are bruising on Jensen's hipbones; the hand on Jensen's back is still firm, relentless, and Jensen can't help but push back into the pressure, feeling it resonate in his ribs and spine. "Dei," Jared spits; scrapes his teeth against the nape of Jensen's neck, and Jensen's cock is rubbing, oversensitised, against the sheets, drooling pre-come. "Ecclesia," Jared breathes into Jensen's damp skin, and he feels it ricochet through him like a bullet, seizing up his muscles, purgative.
"Shit," Jensen spits, and like that, he's coming, long, sticky strings of it pulsing on the sheets, teeth scraping raw against his tongue as he turns his face into the pillow. He pulses his hips, involuntary. It stutters out of him from somewhere deep; keeps on coming, and then Jared freezes, too, fucks in hard, and his long, low groan spurs a last wet spurt out of Jensen's cock as Jared fills him, slicks him clean.
"Jen," Jared groans against the nape of Jensen's neck, hips still working in little figure-eights after Jensen's gone still and slack beneath him, fucked open. "Jesus." This last is low and thin, sloppy, and Jensen can't bring himself to move, has no desire to. His limbs feel leaden, sinking into the bed, and even Jared's weight almost full on his back is no obstacle to his sudden, clinging tiredness, coursing through the hollows the wanting carved out in him. A clean exhaustion, good.
"Sanctus," Jared whispers, after a long moment, and then his mouth, soft, pressing a kiss to the place his teeth have scraped raw at the nape of Jensen's neck. It's uncommonly gentle, after the roughness, something warm on the edge of Jensen's understanding. "Sanctus, sanctus Dominus." Another wet kiss, and a slow curl of Jared's tongue. "Jen? Okay?"
And that's Jared, right there, giving Jensen everything he needs and then checking he doesn't mind. Jensen smiles, slow against the pillow.
"Et cum spiritu tuo," Jensen says, and turns, leans up to press a kiss to Jared's mouth.
The guys' next exorcism scene is gonna be hella awkward, but Jared's tongue is wet and clever on his, stroking up over the roof of Jensen's mouth. Jensen's pretty sure it's worth it.