GOH DIREKT 2 BASEMENT CAT, NO PASS GOH, NO CAN HAS $200 (or how queenklu was kickd off teh intarweb)
Title: GOH DIREKT 2 BASEMENT CAT, NO PASS GOH, NO CAN HAS $200 (or how queenklu was kickd off teh intarweb)
Author: ...*facepalm*
Beta by: Invizible Beta!
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: CRAAAACK.
A/N: I felt bad for ignoring the Js and asked dugindeep for a prompt. That being said, this is in no way her fault. She asked for outdoorsy kissing. IDEFK.
“Jared? What are you doing out here by yourself?”
Some days it really sucks being a camp counselor, but usually the reasons are something along the line of long hours, shitty pay, bug bites and bratty teens. Usually, Jensen doesn’t have to jerk off before bed and after he wakes up and at least once in the middle of the day so he doesn’t assault underage dimpled floppy haired boys wearing khaki shorts.
Jensen is going to hell.
“HAI SEXIE JENSEN.”
Correction: Jensen is in hell.
Jared’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip before he grins up at Jensen, and through a fog of ohgoddowant Jensen catches a glimpse of something sticky and white in the corner of Jared’s mouth. And derailing that particular train of thought takes just long enough for Jared to scramble onto his knees-Jesus Christ-and holler, “I CAN HAS BLOWJOB?”
“Aguhffl,” Jensen says, quite articulately. He barely manages to snap out of it when his hands start cramping from how tightly he’s fisting-No, how tightly he’s curled them into fists. Something clicks. “Have you been into the marshmallows again?”
“MEBBE.” Jared’s gorgeous fucking eyes slide over Jensen from the top of his polo to the bowed bend of his legs, wicked enough that there’s nothing he can do to stop Jared from sliding another fluffy puff of sugar past his lips. “OMNOMNOMNOM.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Jensen says but it’s weak, god is it weak. He needs a third leg right about now to prop himself up; unfortunately his dick is doing anything but pointing down.
“I MAED YOU A S’MORE.” Jared actually burps, sheepishly. “BUT I EATED IT.”
Jared is giggling. All seventeen, underage years of him. Jensen really wants to fuck some coherency into him, but he also wants to wrap him up in a blanket and tuck him into bed before the sugar crash hits.
“CONUNDRUM, U HAS IT.”
“What?” Jensen feels a little sick. “You’re-you’re-Did you just read my mind?”
“COM HURR,” Jared orders, reaching up with his long, gangly arms to tug at Jensen’s polo until he has to either sit on the felled tree next to the fire or fall into it. Jared fits his palms to Jensen’s cheekbones. “PRITTY JENSEN. KINDA STOOPID.”
“Wh- Hey! Whoa, no, Jared-“
But Jared just holds him very still, close enough to brush noses. “HAI,” he says, and even though Jensen can hear the allcaps, his voice is gentle.
“Hello,” Jensen says, even quieter. “What are you doing?”
“I’M IN UR FACE. NEKKIN WICHU.”
When Jared kisses him, he tastes almost exclusively like marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers. So maybe Jensen gets a little lost, just for a second, searching for something that’s just Jared. Maybe he whimpers a little when he finds it. (Maybe some small deranged part of him thinks U HAS A FLAVOR.) But then he makes himself stop.
“S’OKAY, EMO KID,” Jared promises, hauling him back, “UR DOIN IT RITE.”
Jensen groans and gives in, gathering Jared’s long limbs into his lap. He can get a new job.
TEH END.