Fic: Anodyne
Life seems rather keen on throwing an occasional curveball in my general direction these days.
However, writing. So it can't be all that bad. ;)
Also... Where the bloody hell is a bigger pic of Jensen Ackles giving the finger, decked out in delightfully Tank Girl-ish fashion? Being a spoilerphobe, I haven't really plumbed the very depths of different JAck fansites...;)
Title: Anodyne
Disclaimer: All of this happened fictionally, in an alternate universe, between two adults who are both over 18. Also, none you know are belong to us.
Warnings: M/M sleep!sex, assumed consent; references to disfiguring accidents and plastic surgery; Jared's a selfish bastard with a lot of issues
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~590
Summary: AU RPS; Cyberpunk PWP. Light on the cyber and the punk, though.
A/N: Turns out they were willing to give me my porn. ;)
He doesn't remember falling asleep, escaping the reality into the silence inside his own skull.
Jensen spread over his senses, hands a heaven... that he does remember. Those arms are still wrapped around him, his head pillowed on the sticky skin of Jensen's biceps, gentle fingers loose over his abdomen.
The mechanic muscles move, obey his brain even if he can't feel the threads of the sheets beyond the burn where flesh and flash unite when he pushes himself up. Jensen's arm slips away, the sleeping man turns over to his back.
It's still as dark as it's ever going to get in the Night City, the life bleeding in through the blinds. Enough to glance off the alloy; he curls his fingers, turns his wrist, watches the smooth steel dance with his whims.
There's beauty to it, the flow of thought to action seamless and instant. He can't feel the air as he sweeps his arm around and that breaks the enchantment.
He doesn't want to think, not now.
Jensen's still asleep, his breaths passing easy between parted lips. The cover's ridden low, flesh soft in the neon twilight.
His skin feels warm, alive, as Jared runs the fingers of his left hand over the ridges of ribs, concentrates on the texture of smooth skin turning to goosebumps at the touch. He leans over, ghost-lips over aureole, caress over the clavicle; Jensen sighs, shifts, stills again, his throat bared.
Jared lets his lips dictate the paths he takes, his hand freely feeling the forms of Jensen's body, slipping under the sheets.
It's good, so very good, the coarse curls under his fingers, the shadow of stubble under his lips; the blood flees his brain, burns through his veins.
Jensen's hand brushes over his back, tentative, slow; Jensen's thighs part for his hand, Jensen's cock aroused under his palm. Jared bites kisses over the thin skin of Jensen's jaw, awarded with a gasp and a jump, Jensen's hand curling in his hair.
He moves, aching for that moment without memories, Jensen's legs embracing him, welcoming and warm.
Jensen's hands fumble under the pillows, his lips sweet against Jared's, skin touching skin and wanting more.
It feels good, better than anything he's felt in days, overshadowing even the burn of his shoulder.
Jensen lifts his hips, white teeth catching light as easily as his lower lip, his hands efficient, fingers slick and hot with promises as they slip between their bellies and wrap around Jared.
He has to bite the side of Jensen's neck not to come, silk-slick skin touching him from crown to root and gripping hard. He pushes into the grasp, hand stroking down the cleft, the smudged lube, the spilling heat.
When he looks down, Jensen's watching him with heavy-lidded eyes, smile's shadow on his face.
He dives in for a kiss, breaks through to suck at Jensen's soul, his hands finding Jensen's thighs before rearing back up on his knees, seeking out Jensen's hole and sinking in.
That's when Jensen gasps, muscles fluttering around Jared's length, so much more than he could ever hope to feel with his artificial arm.
He refuses to think about that, concentrating on the tightness and heat kissing his skin, on the sweet friction as he moves in, out, deeper and deeper, listening to Jensen's panting breaths, reaching for the event horizon, just wanting to forget.
Jensen trembles around him, under him, frantic hands on his skin, hungry lips on every part they can reach as Jared's hold falters and he falls, falls, falls.
However, writing. So it can't be all that bad. ;)
Also... Where the bloody hell is a bigger pic of Jensen Ackles giving the finger, decked out in delightfully Tank Girl-ish fashion? Being a spoilerphobe, I haven't really plumbed the very depths of different JAck fansites...;)
Title: Anodyne
Disclaimer: All of this happened fictionally, in an alternate universe, between two adults who are both over 18. Also, none you know are belong to us.
Warnings: M/M sleep!sex, assumed consent; references to disfiguring accidents and plastic surgery; Jared's a selfish bastard with a lot of issues
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~590
Summary: AU RPS; Cyberpunk PWP. Light on the cyber and the punk, though.
A/N: Turns out they were willing to give me my porn. ;)
He doesn't remember falling asleep, escaping the reality into the silence inside his own skull.
Jensen spread over his senses, hands a heaven... that he does remember. Those arms are still wrapped around him, his head pillowed on the sticky skin of Jensen's biceps, gentle fingers loose over his abdomen.
The mechanic muscles move, obey his brain even if he can't feel the threads of the sheets beyond the burn where flesh and flash unite when he pushes himself up. Jensen's arm slips away, the sleeping man turns over to his back.
It's still as dark as it's ever going to get in the Night City, the life bleeding in through the blinds. Enough to glance off the alloy; he curls his fingers, turns his wrist, watches the smooth steel dance with his whims.
There's beauty to it, the flow of thought to action seamless and instant. He can't feel the air as he sweeps his arm around and that breaks the enchantment.
He doesn't want to think, not now.
Jensen's still asleep, his breaths passing easy between parted lips. The cover's ridden low, flesh soft in the neon twilight.
His skin feels warm, alive, as Jared runs the fingers of his left hand over the ridges of ribs, concentrates on the texture of smooth skin turning to goosebumps at the touch. He leans over, ghost-lips over aureole, caress over the clavicle; Jensen sighs, shifts, stills again, his throat bared.
Jared lets his lips dictate the paths he takes, his hand freely feeling the forms of Jensen's body, slipping under the sheets.
It's good, so very good, the coarse curls under his fingers, the shadow of stubble under his lips; the blood flees his brain, burns through his veins.
Jensen's hand brushes over his back, tentative, slow; Jensen's thighs part for his hand, Jensen's cock aroused under his palm. Jared bites kisses over the thin skin of Jensen's jaw, awarded with a gasp and a jump, Jensen's hand curling in his hair.
He moves, aching for that moment without memories, Jensen's legs embracing him, welcoming and warm.
Jensen's hands fumble under the pillows, his lips sweet against Jared's, skin touching skin and wanting more.
It feels good, better than anything he's felt in days, overshadowing even the burn of his shoulder.
Jensen lifts his hips, white teeth catching light as easily as his lower lip, his hands efficient, fingers slick and hot with promises as they slip between their bellies and wrap around Jared.
He has to bite the side of Jensen's neck not to come, silk-slick skin touching him from crown to root and gripping hard. He pushes into the grasp, hand stroking down the cleft, the smudged lube, the spilling heat.
When he looks down, Jensen's watching him with heavy-lidded eyes, smile's shadow on his face.
He dives in for a kiss, breaks through to suck at Jensen's soul, his hands finding Jensen's thighs before rearing back up on his knees, seeking out Jensen's hole and sinking in.
That's when Jensen gasps, muscles fluttering around Jared's length, so much more than he could ever hope to feel with his artificial arm.
He refuses to think about that, concentrating on the tightness and heat kissing his skin, on the sweet friction as he moves in, out, deeper and deeper, listening to Jensen's panting breaths, reaching for the event horizon, just wanting to forget.
Jensen trembles around him, under him, frantic hands on his skin, hungry lips on every part they can reach as Jared's hold falters and he falls, falls, falls.