Fill: Floor Show 1/2
anonymous
October 31 2021, 18:12:40 UTC
Jealous Jensen, Stripper Jared, tattoo kink, Wincest kink, exhibitionism A/N: This is kind of a mess because I sort of forgot that Jared was supposed to be an actual stripper and went in a non-AU direction at first. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
“This was a damn good idea, Jen,” Jared whispers. Jensen’s behind the bar, serving drinks for the very private party they’re hosting in Jack’s, the upper room of San Jac Saloon. Jensen’s behind the bar, and Jared’s behind him, chin hooked over Jensen’s shoulder as he pours a jack and Coke, hands on Jensen’s hips under the bar as he watches the amber liquid slowly darken.
“Yeah?” Jensen returns, distracted--by the guest in front of them, by Jared’s hands, by the warmth of Jared’s breath against his throat. “What can I get you, dude?” he asks the man in front of him, accidentally knocking Jared’s hand aside with his elbow as he reaches for a glass. Jared’s fingers slide away from the hem of his t-shirt.
“Okay, okay.” Jared’s warmth against his back disappears, leaving Jensen with a twinge of regret that’s quickly swept away by the line in front of him. One of their bartenders had called out and Jensen had foolishly offered to help when the only short notice replacement could get couldn’t make it til midnight. Steve had offered to take a shift, but Jensen didn’t want to impose when his friend was already providing some of the entertainment. “Have fun, Jen.” There’s something in Jared’s voice, Jensen thinks, but dismisses the idea as imagination and the rush of music and laughter surrounding them.
Besides, he is having fun.
The next time Jensen looks up Steve’s standing next to him, a knowing smirk on his face. “I got this,” he says, nudging Jensen out of the way. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”
Jensen frowns. “What--” but before he can finish the thought, he sees what Steve is talking about.
Jared.
On stage.
Dancing with...Jensen doesn’t think he knows the guy. Or the girl who’s pressed between them, looking like she’s died and gone to heaven with Jared’s hands on her hips and maybe room for a lipstick stained napkin with a blood red phone number smeared on it between them. As though feeling Jensen’s eyes on him, Jared looks up. Smiles, slow and hot. Bends down to whisper in her ear as she lifts one hand to play with his hair. The other guy has his fingers laced with Jared’s on her hips now, his face close enough to kiss over her shoulder if Jared were so inclined.
Jensen can’t take his eyes off them, a red hot rush of possessive jealousy drowning out the voices around him. Part of him wants to storm over there, tear Jared away from them and drag him off to a private corner. But before he can, the girl turns in the circle of Jared’s arms and reaches up to push his jacket off his shoulders. Underneath, Jared’s wearing a plain black tee, tight against his torso and showing off every bit of the muscle he’s worked so hard for. She tosses the jacket over the back of a nearby chair, and Jared runs his fingers through his hair, pulling the hem of his too short shirt up over his hipbones. It’s the flash of SAXX on the waistband of his boxers that does Jensen in, knees going a little weak as Jared smiles playfully at him over her head. The jeans he’s wearing--jeans Jensen himself had picked out for this express purpose--cling to his ass and highlight just how much he’s enjoying himself right now.
Without Jensen.
Jensen settles onto the nearest chair and tries not to drool over the show Jared’s putting on for him. He barely notices when a drink appears in his hand.
“You look like you need this,” Steve says dryly. “I’m kinda surprised you’re still here and not dragging your boy off to someplace more private.”
RE: Fill: Floor Show 2/2
anonymous
October 31 2021, 18:13:32 UTC
“Just enjoying the show,” Jensen says, eyes never leaving Jared even when he slams back the shot of...whatever Steve had brought him. The girl is facing Jared now, grinding against him as the other man kisses her throat, all three of them tangled up. Her hands slide under Jared’s t-shirt, pushing up just enough to show off his abs to the audience that’s now watching. Catcalls echoing through the room remind Jensen of why he almost never goes to Jared’s show, jealousy bubbling hotly through him. Jared steps back from his partners, far enough that he can pull his t-shirt off completely, and holy shit. His whole chest is gleaming with sweat and glitter, and there, over his heart, is what looks like a tattoo in the shape of a pentagram and starburst. It looks like a perfect match to the one Jensen has, gotten two years before he and Jared met in honor of his favorite TV character, and the idea that Jared would get a matching tattoo in the same place has Jensen on his feet and ready to drag Jared off to the nearest private corner.
Before he can take a step, Jared’s standing in front of him, breathing hard, one hand on Jensen’s chest as he pushes him back into his chair.
“Leaving without a dance?” Jared purrs, and the crowd cheers.
“Jay--” Jensen can’t take his eyes off the tattoo, red and a little swollen as though he’s just gotten it done that day. But when he reaches out to touch, Jared swats his hand away, eyes glinting.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides. “No touching the dancers.” Jared settles across Jensen’s lap, circling his hips in a slow, lazy figure eight specifically designed to drive Jensen out of his mind. He leans forward to whisper, “I don’t need to tie your hands, do I?”
“No,” Jensen breathes, voice ragged. “Jay, come on--”
“Little busy here, Jen,” Jared coos, lifting his arms over his head as he sways sinuously for a moment before wrapping his hands around the chair back and leaning in close. His tits are right there, almost brushing Jensen’s lips as Jared rocks against him, and fuck. Jensen totally gets how Jared brings home more money than he does. He’s so hard he’s almost light headed, every thrust and grind of Jared’s hips, every tantalizing accidental brush of skin against skin driving him closer and closer to the edge.
He only realizes that’s exactly what Jared has in mind when one taut, gleaming nipple brushes his lips. His mouth opens on instinct, pulling the tight little bud into his mouth as Jared moans above him, his hips moving with purpose now, grinding down against him with short, sharp thrusts. “Come on, Jen,” he pants. “Do it, God--”
Jensen’s heard that too many times, brain hardwired to obey, and it feels so fucking good--wave after wave of pleasure rocking through him as Jared doesn’t let up, riding him through the aftershocks. He arches under Jared’s weight, feels Jared’s eyes on him eagerly, feels the shivers running hot and electric under Jared’s skin where he’s wrapped his arms around him, nevermind the rules. Feels Jared’s lips on his, swallowing down the sounds he can’t help, Jared’s hands on his cheeks as he whispers encouragement and love.
Then it’s over, Jensen’s brain pleasure fogged but mostly functional again.
“You with me?” Jared asks, smirking a bit, and Jensen feels the blood rising in his cheeks as he realizes he just came in his pants in front of a hundred people--none of whom seem to be paying them any attention now.
“I...yeah. Yeah.” There’s a dopey smile on Jensen’s lips to match the blush on his cheeks, he can feel it, and the fondness in Jared’s eyes confirms. “I can’t feel my legs, but other than that…”
“Mmm we’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Jared whispers silkily. He slides off Jensen’s lap gracefully, and Jensen’s eyes widen as he takes in the obscene bulge in Jared’s jeans. “I think I know just the thing.”
Jensen swallows and takes Jared’s hand, lets his boyfriend tug him to his feet and drag him off toward the back room. This night is far from over.
A/N: This is kind of a mess because I sort of forgot that Jared was supposed to be an actual stripper and went in a non-AU direction at first. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
“This was a damn good idea, Jen,” Jared whispers. Jensen’s behind the bar, serving drinks for the very private party they’re hosting in Jack’s, the upper room of San Jac Saloon. Jensen’s behind the bar, and Jared’s behind him, chin hooked over Jensen’s shoulder as he pours a jack and Coke, hands on Jensen’s hips under the bar as he watches the amber liquid slowly darken.
“Yeah?” Jensen returns, distracted--by the guest in front of them, by Jared’s hands, by the warmth of Jared’s breath against his throat. “What can I get you, dude?” he asks the man in front of him, accidentally knocking Jared’s hand aside with his elbow as he reaches for a glass. Jared’s fingers slide away from the hem of his t-shirt.
“Okay, okay.” Jared’s warmth against his back disappears, leaving Jensen with a twinge of regret that’s quickly swept away by the line in front of him. One of their bartenders had called out and Jensen had foolishly offered to help when the only short notice replacement could get couldn’t make it til midnight. Steve had offered to take a shift, but Jensen didn’t want to impose when his friend was already providing some of the entertainment. “Have fun, Jen.” There’s something in Jared’s voice, Jensen thinks, but dismisses the idea as imagination and the rush of music and laughter surrounding them.
Besides, he is having fun.
The next time Jensen looks up Steve’s standing next to him, a knowing smirk on his face. “I got this,” he says, nudging Jensen out of the way. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”
Jensen frowns. “What--” but before he can finish the thought, he sees what Steve is talking about.
Jared.
On stage.
Dancing with...Jensen doesn’t think he knows the guy. Or the girl who’s pressed between them, looking like she’s died and gone to heaven with Jared’s hands on her hips and maybe room for a lipstick stained napkin with a blood red phone number smeared on it between them.
As though feeling Jensen’s eyes on him, Jared looks up. Smiles, slow and hot. Bends down to whisper in her ear as she lifts one hand to play with his hair. The other guy has his fingers laced with Jared’s on her hips now, his face close enough to kiss over her shoulder if Jared were so inclined.
Jensen can’t take his eyes off them, a red hot rush of possessive jealousy drowning out the voices around him. Part of him wants to storm over there, tear Jared away from them and drag him off to a private corner. But before he can, the girl turns in the circle of Jared’s arms and reaches up to push his jacket off his shoulders. Underneath, Jared’s wearing a plain black tee, tight against his torso and showing off every bit of the muscle he’s worked so hard for. She tosses the jacket over the back of a nearby chair, and Jared runs his fingers through his hair, pulling the hem of his too short shirt up over his hipbones. It’s the flash of SAXX on the waistband of his boxers that does Jensen in, knees going a little weak as Jared smiles playfully at him over her head. The jeans he’s wearing--jeans Jensen himself had picked out for this express purpose--cling to his ass and highlight just how much he’s enjoying himself right now.
Without Jensen.
Jensen settles onto the nearest chair and tries not to drool over the show Jared’s putting on for him. He barely notices when a drink appears in his hand.
“You look like you need this,” Steve says dryly. “I’m kinda surprised you’re still here and not dragging your boy off to someplace more private.”
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Before he can take a step, Jared’s standing in front of him, breathing hard, one hand on Jensen’s chest as he pushes him back into his chair.
“Leaving without a dance?” Jared purrs, and the crowd cheers.
“Jay--” Jensen can’t take his eyes off the tattoo, red and a little swollen as though he’s just gotten it done that day. But when he reaches out to touch, Jared swats his hand away, eyes glinting.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides. “No touching the dancers.” Jared settles across Jensen’s lap, circling his hips in a slow, lazy figure eight specifically designed to drive Jensen out of his mind. He leans forward to whisper, “I don’t need to tie your hands, do I?”
“No,” Jensen breathes, voice ragged. “Jay, come on--”
“Little busy here, Jen,” Jared coos, lifting his arms over his head as he sways sinuously for a moment before wrapping his hands around the chair back and leaning in close. His tits are right there, almost brushing Jensen’s lips as Jared rocks against him, and fuck. Jensen totally gets how Jared brings home more money than he does. He’s so hard he’s almost light headed, every thrust and grind of Jared’s hips, every tantalizing accidental brush of skin against skin driving him closer and closer to the edge.
He only realizes that’s exactly what Jared has in mind when one taut, gleaming nipple brushes his lips. His mouth opens on instinct, pulling the tight little bud into his mouth as Jared moans above him, his hips moving with purpose now, grinding down against him with short, sharp thrusts. “Come on, Jen,” he pants. “Do it, God--”
Jensen’s heard that too many times, brain hardwired to obey, and it feels so fucking good--wave after wave of pleasure rocking through him as Jared doesn’t let up, riding him through the aftershocks. He arches under Jared’s weight, feels Jared’s eyes on him eagerly, feels the shivers running hot and electric under Jared’s skin where he’s wrapped his arms around him, nevermind the rules. Feels Jared’s lips on his, swallowing down the sounds he can’t help, Jared’s hands on his cheeks as he whispers encouragement and love.
Then it’s over, Jensen’s brain pleasure fogged but mostly functional again.
“You with me?” Jared asks, smirking a bit, and Jensen feels the blood rising in his cheeks as he realizes he just came in his pants in front of a hundred people--none of whom seem to be paying them any attention now.
“I...yeah. Yeah.” There’s a dopey smile on Jensen’s lips to match the blush on his cheeks, he can feel it, and the fondness in Jared’s eyes confirms. “I can’t feel my legs, but other than that…”
“Mmm we’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Jared whispers silkily. He slides off Jensen’s lap gracefully, and Jensen’s eyes widen as he takes in the obscene bulge in Jared’s jeans. “I think I know just the thing.”
Jensen swallows and takes Jared’s hand, lets his boyfriend tug him to his feet and drag him off toward the back room. This night is far from over.
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