RPS Fic: Something to Think About (1/2) -- J²
Title: Something to Think About
Author: Magz
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki; mentions of Jared/Sandy and Jared/bar waitress
Summary: Here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was not thinking about it.
Author's Notes: Have you ever started writing pr0n and then it mutated into something long with plot? That's this story -- all 7,700 words of it. I swear it was going to be a PWP, really. Many thanks to marishna for the beta and for helping me out with one scene in particular.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
Jared was stuck in traffic, and that wasn't the most troublesome thing about this morning. His headache had finally dissipated, but no matter how he tried to get the taste of the morning after out of his mouth, it seemed to linger. He was resolutely not thinking about the circumstances regarding his being on the road during the morning rush when he wasn't due on set until three in the afternoon.
He took a swig from his water bottle, and as a bit of cold liquid escaped his mouth and trickled down his throat, a hot, phantom tongue chased them. But he wasn't thinking about it.
His first reaction when he'd woken hadn't been so much of a, "Holy fuck, I cheated on Sandy," as it'd been a, "Holy fuck, I wish I could remember." But then thoughts of a breakup had raced through his mind, and he'd eased out of bed and left his one night stand asleep in the bed that they'd practically destroyed the night before.
And now here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was not thinking about it.
He sort of wanted to pound his head against something until those random flashes of sweat and skin stopped assailing his mind. But he was out of painkillers, so he gritted his teeth, took another swig of water, and pretended not to remember the way Jensen had hugged his pillow when he'd left.
On set, Jensen seemed not to remember at all, and maybe he really didn't. It was completely unfair, because here Jared was, agonizing over what had and hadn't happened last night, and all Jensen could do was grin in that easy way that said he'd gotten some but it'd all been a blur.
Jensen appeared next to him at craft services while the crew was setting up the next shot. "Where'd you end up last night?" he asked. "I don't remember a thing after that third round of shots."
"Makes sense, considering the four beers you had before you started on shots, and the bowl you smoked on the way to the bar," Jared said. He piled some fruit onto a napkin and headed over to a big tree, settling on the grass underneath it.
Jensen grinned. "Yeah, I was pretty wasted," he agreed. "So where'd you go?"
"I went home," Jared lied when Jensen flopped down beside him, hoping that Jensen wouldn't be able to read him as well as he usually could. Jared was a decent actor, but he couldn't lie worth a damn. "Y'know, watched some TV, caught up on fan mail."
"I was gonna ask if you saw who I took home," Jensen said. He lay back on the grass and stacked his hands behind his head. "Man, I felt so fucked out this morning. He must've been great."
Jared choked on a grape.
Jensen gave Jared a strange look. "I thought you said you're okay with me being bi," he said.
"I am!" Jared protested. And he'd been way more than okay with it last night. But that was one of those things he wasn't thinking about.
By nightfall, Jared had pieced together what he remembered, and he'd totally given up on not thinking about it.
It was hot at the bar, because the asshole manager was too cheap for A/C, and the only drinks Jared would take had tons of ice in them. So maybe he wasn't quite as drunk as some of the other guys -- Mike was seconds away from dancing on the pool table, after all -- but he'd built up a good buzz.
He thought maybe that's why he didn't turn him down when Jensen started leaning too close and turning that look -- the look, the one that made people beg to do whatever Jensen wanted them to -- on him.
"Shots," Jensen proclaimed. "I'm buying."
The buzz became a roar after the first round, and Jensen started to touch. After the second round, Jared was just as handsy, though he was keeping things above -- or well below -- the belt. The third round had someone calling them a cab, because it might've been Vancouver, but having dirty, naked sex on bars only happened in pornos, and damn if Jared wasn't thisclose to dry-humping Jensen if he didn't quit with the groping.
Jared wasn't exactly sure who'd blurted out Jensen's address, but he thought he saw the taxi driver watching once or twice in the rear-view mirror while tongues stuttered over goosefleshed skin and hands went where those hands had never gone before. Jensen was moaning really loudly, and Jared shushed him, snickering, then shoved a thigh between Jensen's legs.
There was a blank space in Jared's memory between shoving up Jensen's shirt in the backseat of the cab and finding himself laid out with 6'1" of drunk, naked co-star on top of him. They rolled over, hips shoving against hips, and Jared flailed for a moment as he lost his balance and nearly fell off the bed. Jensen yanked him closer and they rolled again, this time in the opposite direction.
The first time Jensen asked, Jared didn't hear him. Pretty unbelievable considering the request, but considering that Jared was busy rubbing his cock against Jensen's, maybe it wasn't so unbelievable after all. And when Jensen's tongue trailed up his jaw, then chased a bite to his earlobe before he rasped, "Jared. Fuck me," Jared's whole damn body heard him.
"I -- you -- " Jared said helplessly as Jensen pressed a condom and lube into his hands. He was drunk as hell but even more turned on, and all he could do was stare at the rubber and the slick until Jensen snatched the condom back and tore it open, then rolled it down Jared's cock. Jared's eyelids drooped and he bit his lip as Jensen tugged on his dick a few times, then released him.
Jared fumbled the lube when Jensen shoved him off long enough to turn onto his front and spread his legs, and fuck, Jared's good-boy upbringing showed through when the first thing he thought was, "Holy shit, I'm going to put that in there?!" And then, again, but this time his mind had a whole different tone of voice. Because holy shit, he was going to put that in there.
He flipped the cap on the lube and it drizzled over his fingers, dripped down onto the bedspread when he squeezed the bottle a little too hard. He closed it up, tossed it to the side, and for a minute, he just stared, because Jensen was humping against the bed with his hands behind his back, holding his cheeks open. And maybe Jared's hands were shaking a bit when he reached down with his slippery fingers and touched Jensen's little hole, but they shook a whole lot when Jensen started talking.
"Use two. I can take two, do it," Jensen muttered, and he trailed off into a jibbered string of moans and curses when Jared did just that. And fuck if Jensen wasn't humping down into the mattress, then up against Jared's hand. Jared had to squeeze his other hand around the base of his cock just to see straight enough to watch his fingers painting Jensen's asshole all wet and slick, to watch those few, blondish hairs around the hole darken with lube.
"Jensen, I -- fuck," Jared panted, slipping his fingers in and out a few times for good measure, and years of vocal coaching were gone as he declared, "I need to be in you now." It was probably the most coherent thing he'd said since they'd left the bar, but who needed coherency when Jensen fucking Ackles was squirming underneath him and begging to be fucked?
Jensen wiggled his hips and squirmed toward the head of the bed until Jared's fingers slipped right out, and then he was right there, legs spread, reaching around behind himself and grabbing Jared's dick to guide it forward. "Fuck my ass," he groaned, and pushed back against Jared's cock.
Another blank in Jared's memory obscured what he knew was there anyway -- thrusting into Jensen for the first time, fucking him slow and deep and hard -- but he could still taste the sweat and skin between Jensen's shoulder blades. Jared pressed his face against Jensen's back and licked up and down his spine as far as he could reach while he continued to jar Jensen's body with every slap of his hips against Jensen's upturned ass.
After one particularly hard thrust, all of a sudden Jensen was keening and shuddering, and his hole was clenching down on Jared's cock. Jared's own climax was just out of reach, obscured by the haze of alcohol, so he fucked Jensen right through the spasms and the shudders until he was moaning in oversensitized pleasurepain under him. Then, without warning, the world went bright and blurry as Jared bit down on Jensen's shoulder and came.
Jared had vague flashes of waking up during the night, still drunk, and doing it all over again. Of licking that puffy, pink little hole until Jensen was whimpering and begging. Of rubbing his dick against Jensen's belly until it spurted between them. Of the way Jensen had clung to his shoulders through orgasm number four -- or was it five?
Of waking up this morning and not wanting to move, partly because a headache was starting to pound behind his eyes, and partly because he didn't think he could move without noticing exactly how much of a workout he'd had during the night.
And where'd all this remembering leave him? In Impala #2, trying to will down a pretty insistent hard-on and to remember his lines at the same time.
"Hey, man, you coming out tonight?" Jensen asked as they headed for the trailers to get changed and cleaned up.
"Nah," Jared replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm beat. I think I'm probably just gonna order some take-out and rent a couple shitty movies." Whether he'd actually watch those movies, instead of heading straight for the bedroom as soon as he got home so he could rub himself to a blistering climax, was another question entirely.
"Yeah, okay," Jensen replied, "Grandpa."
"What?"
"Dude, you're younger than me. You should have even more energy reserved for partying than I do." He ambled past Jared's trailer, calling over his shoulder, "You're going to wake up at fifty and wish you'd gone out more."
"Yeah, yeah," Jared replied. He climbed up into his trailer and shut the door a little too hard behind him.
As it turned out, Jared was more drained than he'd thought, because the idea of take-out and shitty movies seemed all the more appealing on his way home. He wound up on his sofa with some halfway-decent barbecue and The Hole in the DVD player, and was almost to the good part when his doorbell rang.
Sadie clambered to her feet and growled once, then sniffed the air and flopped back onto her bed, and Harley just opened his eyes for a minute and then closed them again. "Some guard dogs you are," Jared said, shaking his head in amusement.
He shut the styrofoam take-out box and tossed it on the coffee table, then stood and streeeetched, his back and shoulders popping, and walked to the door to peer through the peephole. He was only a little surprised to see Jensen standing on his welcome mat.
He unlatched and opened the door and, after Jensen pushed his way inside, said lamely, "Come on in."
"So here's the thing," Jensen said, standing close and shrugging out of his coat. "I wasn't that drunk."
Jared's heart thudded in his chest and he frowned. "What?"
"I," Jensen murmured, stepping closer, "remember. Everything."
Jared looked away, swallowing convulsively. "I don't know what you're -- "
"Don't play stupid, Jared," Jensen said, and pushed him flat up against the door.
"I can't -- " Jared began, shaking his head.
Jensen reached behind Jared and locked the door with a snick. Maybe he was standing on his toes, or maybe Jared was sliding down the door, because suddenly Jensen's mouth was on his and Jared didn't have to lower his head at all.
When Jensen pulled back, he licked his lips. "You had barbecue and didn't invite me?" he asked. "Some friend you are."
Jared snickered. Then he snorted. Then he let out a full-bodied guffaw that had Jensen giving him an odd look. "I cheated on my girlfriend with you, and I'm way more okay with that than I should be," Jared laughed. "Not to mention that all that sex last night probably threw a wrench into the gears of our working relationship. A minute ago you were swabbing my tonsils with your tongue, and now you're complaining about barbecue." He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. "My life is so surreal."
"Dude, you okay?" Jensen asked, concerned. "I could leave -- "
"Nah, don't go," Jared said. "Come watch The Hole with me, man. Keira Knightley's about to get naked, and we can make out on the couch like teenagers."
"You sure you're okay?" Jensen asked again. "Because dude, you just cracked up a little, and if you're going to lose it then I don't think I want to be here."
"I'm fine," Jared replied. "Just a little overwhelmed, maybe." He returned to the couch and flopped down on it in a comfortable sprawl, beckoning for Jensen to join him.
Jensen sat down carefully, almost on the edge of the couch, glancing worriedly at Jared.
"Man, I'm not gonna hurt you if you relax. Stop looking at me like I'm psycho." Jared hit the pause button on the DVD remote and the movie started up again. Then he grabbed Jensen by the wrist and hauled him up next to him, draping an arm around his shoulders.
"Jared -- " Jensen began, then stopped abruptly as Jared's hand landed on his thigh. He sighed. "I'll admit that I came here wanting to start something, but if you're not okay with that -- "
"Shh," Jared said, and pointed at the screen. "Watch the movie."
Naked Keira Knightley aside, there really wasn't anything engrossing about the DVD, which probably explained how Jared ended up laid out on the sofa with his shirt off and Jensen sprawled on top of him, sucking on his Adam's apple. His fingers dug into Jensen's shoulders, but he pulled his hands away when Jensen let out a soft hiss. "Did that hurt?" he asked, eyes rolling back a little as Jensen kissed his jaw, his ear, his throat.
"You gave me a pretty big bruise last night," Jensen said against Jared's cheek, "When you came, you bit me," and his words made Jared hump up against him helplessly.
"Not fair," Jared muttered with all the petulance of a surly three-year-old but all the pent-up sexual frustration of a twentysomething guy who hadn't gotten laid in a very long time, which was -- considering the previous night -- pretty ridiculous. "You talk like that, I'm gonna come in my pants."
Jensen whuffed out a soft laugh and nipped at the tender spot just below Jared's ear. "Maybe I want you to," he said.
"Okay, dude -- no," Jared half-moaned as Jensen set about trying to find every single one of his spots above the waist with his lips, tongue, and fingertips. "Bed," he insisted, "I don't want to ruin these pants."
"Too bad," Jensen muttered as he absolutely didn't move to let Jared up, "'cause it'd be fucking hot." He treated Jared to a full-body squirm, and then he was up and off him, and halfway to the bedroom by the time Jared had willed himself to move.
Jared tripped over Jensen's jeans in the hallway, and a pair of underwear that weren't his caught on his foot just inside the door of the bedroom. He kicked them off, his own jeans down to his knees, and shuffled forward, a little impatient with the restriction on his range of movement.
His eyes fixed on Jensen, who was jerking himself off almost lazily with a predatory look in his eyes, and if Jared didn't know any better he'd guess that any minute now, Jensen would be crawling toward him across the bed. Jared hopped around until his jeans fell off, then shucked off his boxers and dove onto the bed. The springs bounced and both of them snickered a little.
"We're gonna do this sober," Jensen said, and then he scooted down the bed and licked Jared's cock up and down like it was a fucking popsicle, and all Jared could do was to grab onto the bedspread and cling.
Jared bucked his hips and Jensen let him, and it was pretty much the hottest thing ever until one very enthusiastic hump knocked Jensen in the nose pretty hard, so Jensen held him down against the bed and sucked him until he screamed, which completely trumped the hip-bucking. And when Jensen pulled those full lips up and off his cock, maybe Jared whimpered a little, but all was forgiven when he felt those same lips nuzzling against his balls. He sucked softly on the loose skin of Jared's sac, and Jared's cell phone rang.
"Leave it," Jensen suggested, lips parting to take one of Jared's balls into his mouth.
Jared pushed him away. "I can't," he muttered, and he scrambled off the bed, cupping his cock to prevent it from bouncing as he crossed the room and dug in his jeans for the phone. "I -- " he flipped the phone open. "Hey, Sandy." He glanced at Jensen, who was now sitting up on the bed with his legs crossed, then looked away. "... I miss you too."
Jensen plucked a throw blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around his waist, then casually headed for the bedroom door. "I'll go," he mouthed.
Jared shook his head, only half-listening to his girlfriend talk about how hard it was to find an acting gig these days, and wasn't he lucky to have a full-time job on the show. His dick slowly wilted, and then he was standing in the middle of his bedroom like a big, sweaty, naked dork.
He heard the front door open and close.
Make that a big, sweaty, naked, solitary dork.
Chad was bitchy when people woke him up, Jared knew this. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to care as he dialed his number. With the time difference, it'd be close to 3 AM in Wilmington.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing calling me this late? I've got to be on set early."
"Consider it payback for the incident with the ant farm," Jared said with a snicker. Then he sobered. "Man, I fucked up."
"What'd you do, fuck Jensen?" Chad mumbled into the receiver.
Jared didn't reply.
"Oh shit, you did," Chad realized.
Jared sighed. There was some rustling on the other end. "What do I do?"
"Do?" Chad asked. Another pause. "Oh, sorry. I'm just having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that for once, your life is more screwed up than mine."
"Yeah, well I'm still not dating an eighteen-year-old," Jared shot back.
"Says the guy who's boning his big brother."
"At least I'm not banned from his prom."
"At least -- " Chad cut off. "Okay, you got me there. Man, what were you thinking?"
"Alcohol tasty?" Jared said feebly.
"Yeah, that's about what I was thinking when I proposed to Sophia."
Jared sighed again. "It wouldn't be so bad if it were just a drunken one-night stand, but there was almost a repeat tonight, and both of us were completely sober."
"Dude, you're fucked up."
Jared rolled his eyes.
"So what are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell Sandy what happened?"
"Fuck no," Jared said abruptly. "I love her, man."
"Funny way of showing it," Chad muttered. "Do you want to screw Jensen again?"
Jared closed his eyes. " ... fuck yes," he muttered.
"Whoa, whoa, this ain't phone sex, dude. Easy on the moaning."
"Shut up."
"So let me get this straight," Chad said. "You called me at... 3:10 AM to tell me that you cheated on your girlfriend and that you want to keep on cheating, without letting her know what's going on? Couldn't this have waited until morning?"
"No," Jared said miserably. "Tell me what to do, man. You've got more experience with screwed-up relationships."
"Nice, man. Real nice." There was some more rustling. "Listen, I really do need to sleep, or the makeup girls will have my ass for breakfast, and not in that fun way that you've no doubt explored with your co-star."
"Dude," Jared mumbled, "not cool."
"Neither is reminding me about very big past mistakes," Chad retorted. "Just -- tell Sandy, man. Or don't, it's up to you. I'm hanging up now."
"But -- " Jared said, to the click of the connection being broken. He closed his phone with a snap. "Fuck."
Jared wandered into the craft services tent like a zombie. "Coffee," he muttered, "need coffee." He'd been up almost all weekend trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do, and it'd taken a visible toll on him. He thought maybe this fifth cup of coffee might help, though.
It'd been agony trying to decide between Jensen and Sandy. If he chose Sandy, his friendship and onscreen chemistry with Jensen might be totally screwed up, and at any rate he wasn't sure he wanted to do without all the amazing, amazing sex or Jensen in general -- but on the other hand, he'd still have the girl he'd sometimes thought of marrying someday. If he chose Jensen, Sandy would be heartbroken and he probably would too, and it'd mean possibly taking the next step with Jensen but he didn't know what to do because he'd never taken that step with a guy before, and if they broke up then their dynamic would be fucked and he'd be out of a job, and it was driving him crazy --
"Jared, you okay?" asked one of the sound guys as he filled his own coffee cup.
Jared nodded stiffly. "Fine," he said, and took a swig from his now perilously warped styrofoam cup. "I'm fine."
He wasn't a greedy guy by nature, but a few times over the weekend Jared had seriously thought about having his cake and eating it too. He just had no idea who was the cake part, and who was the eating. Or if it really mattered who was who.
He thought maybe he needed therapy, or advice from someone whose life was mostly together. Maybe it'd been a bad idea to call Chad. This looked like a job for Superman.
» Part 2 of 2 »
Author: Magz
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki; mentions of Jared/Sandy and Jared/bar waitress
Summary: Here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was not thinking about it.
Author's Notes: Have you ever started writing pr0n and then it mutated into something long with plot? That's this story -- all 7,700 words of it. I swear it was going to be a PWP, really. Many thanks to marishna for the beta and for helping me out with one scene in particular.
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
Jared was stuck in traffic, and that wasn't the most troublesome thing about this morning. His headache had finally dissipated, but no matter how he tried to get the taste of the morning after out of his mouth, it seemed to linger. He was resolutely not thinking about the circumstances regarding his being on the road during the morning rush when he wasn't due on set until three in the afternoon.
He took a swig from his water bottle, and as a bit of cold liquid escaped his mouth and trickled down his throat, a hot, phantom tongue chased them. But he wasn't thinking about it.
His first reaction when he'd woken hadn't been so much of a, "Holy fuck, I cheated on Sandy," as it'd been a, "Holy fuck, I wish I could remember." But then thoughts of a breakup had raced through his mind, and he'd eased out of bed and left his one night stand asleep in the bed that they'd practically destroyed the night before.
And now here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was not thinking about it.
He sort of wanted to pound his head against something until those random flashes of sweat and skin stopped assailing his mind. But he was out of painkillers, so he gritted his teeth, took another swig of water, and pretended not to remember the way Jensen had hugged his pillow when he'd left.
On set, Jensen seemed not to remember at all, and maybe he really didn't. It was completely unfair, because here Jared was, agonizing over what had and hadn't happened last night, and all Jensen could do was grin in that easy way that said he'd gotten some but it'd all been a blur.
Jensen appeared next to him at craft services while the crew was setting up the next shot. "Where'd you end up last night?" he asked. "I don't remember a thing after that third round of shots."
"Makes sense, considering the four beers you had before you started on shots, and the bowl you smoked on the way to the bar," Jared said. He piled some fruit onto a napkin and headed over to a big tree, settling on the grass underneath it.
Jensen grinned. "Yeah, I was pretty wasted," he agreed. "So where'd you go?"
"I went home," Jared lied when Jensen flopped down beside him, hoping that Jensen wouldn't be able to read him as well as he usually could. Jared was a decent actor, but he couldn't lie worth a damn. "Y'know, watched some TV, caught up on fan mail."
"I was gonna ask if you saw who I took home," Jensen said. He lay back on the grass and stacked his hands behind his head. "Man, I felt so fucked out this morning. He must've been great."
Jared choked on a grape.
Jensen gave Jared a strange look. "I thought you said you're okay with me being bi," he said.
"I am!" Jared protested. And he'd been way more than okay with it last night. But that was one of those things he wasn't thinking about.
By nightfall, Jared had pieced together what he remembered, and he'd totally given up on not thinking about it.
It was hot at the bar, because the asshole manager was too cheap for A/C, and the only drinks Jared would take had tons of ice in them. So maybe he wasn't quite as drunk as some of the other guys -- Mike was seconds away from dancing on the pool table, after all -- but he'd built up a good buzz.
He thought maybe that's why he didn't turn him down when Jensen started leaning too close and turning that look -- the look, the one that made people beg to do whatever Jensen wanted them to -- on him.
"Shots," Jensen proclaimed. "I'm buying."
The buzz became a roar after the first round, and Jensen started to touch. After the second round, Jared was just as handsy, though he was keeping things above -- or well below -- the belt. The third round had someone calling them a cab, because it might've been Vancouver, but having dirty, naked sex on bars only happened in pornos, and damn if Jared wasn't thisclose to dry-humping Jensen if he didn't quit with the groping.
Jared wasn't exactly sure who'd blurted out Jensen's address, but he thought he saw the taxi driver watching once or twice in the rear-view mirror while tongues stuttered over goosefleshed skin and hands went where those hands had never gone before. Jensen was moaning really loudly, and Jared shushed him, snickering, then shoved a thigh between Jensen's legs.
There was a blank space in Jared's memory between shoving up Jensen's shirt in the backseat of the cab and finding himself laid out with 6'1" of drunk, naked co-star on top of him. They rolled over, hips shoving against hips, and Jared flailed for a moment as he lost his balance and nearly fell off the bed. Jensen yanked him closer and they rolled again, this time in the opposite direction.
The first time Jensen asked, Jared didn't hear him. Pretty unbelievable considering the request, but considering that Jared was busy rubbing his cock against Jensen's, maybe it wasn't so unbelievable after all. And when Jensen's tongue trailed up his jaw, then chased a bite to his earlobe before he rasped, "Jared. Fuck me," Jared's whole damn body heard him.
"I -- you -- " Jared said helplessly as Jensen pressed a condom and lube into his hands. He was drunk as hell but even more turned on, and all he could do was stare at the rubber and the slick until Jensen snatched the condom back and tore it open, then rolled it down Jared's cock. Jared's eyelids drooped and he bit his lip as Jensen tugged on his dick a few times, then released him.
Jared fumbled the lube when Jensen shoved him off long enough to turn onto his front and spread his legs, and fuck, Jared's good-boy upbringing showed through when the first thing he thought was, "Holy shit, I'm going to put that in there?!" And then, again, but this time his mind had a whole different tone of voice. Because holy shit, he was going to put that in there.
He flipped the cap on the lube and it drizzled over his fingers, dripped down onto the bedspread when he squeezed the bottle a little too hard. He closed it up, tossed it to the side, and for a minute, he just stared, because Jensen was humping against the bed with his hands behind his back, holding his cheeks open. And maybe Jared's hands were shaking a bit when he reached down with his slippery fingers and touched Jensen's little hole, but they shook a whole lot when Jensen started talking.
"Use two. I can take two, do it," Jensen muttered, and he trailed off into a jibbered string of moans and curses when Jared did just that. And fuck if Jensen wasn't humping down into the mattress, then up against Jared's hand. Jared had to squeeze his other hand around the base of his cock just to see straight enough to watch his fingers painting Jensen's asshole all wet and slick, to watch those few, blondish hairs around the hole darken with lube.
"Jensen, I -- fuck," Jared panted, slipping his fingers in and out a few times for good measure, and years of vocal coaching were gone as he declared, "I need to be in you now." It was probably the most coherent thing he'd said since they'd left the bar, but who needed coherency when Jensen fucking Ackles was squirming underneath him and begging to be fucked?
Jensen wiggled his hips and squirmed toward the head of the bed until Jared's fingers slipped right out, and then he was right there, legs spread, reaching around behind himself and grabbing Jared's dick to guide it forward. "Fuck my ass," he groaned, and pushed back against Jared's cock.
Another blank in Jared's memory obscured what he knew was there anyway -- thrusting into Jensen for the first time, fucking him slow and deep and hard -- but he could still taste the sweat and skin between Jensen's shoulder blades. Jared pressed his face against Jensen's back and licked up and down his spine as far as he could reach while he continued to jar Jensen's body with every slap of his hips against Jensen's upturned ass.
After one particularly hard thrust, all of a sudden Jensen was keening and shuddering, and his hole was clenching down on Jared's cock. Jared's own climax was just out of reach, obscured by the haze of alcohol, so he fucked Jensen right through the spasms and the shudders until he was moaning in oversensitized pleasurepain under him. Then, without warning, the world went bright and blurry as Jared bit down on Jensen's shoulder and came.
Jared had vague flashes of waking up during the night, still drunk, and doing it all over again. Of licking that puffy, pink little hole until Jensen was whimpering and begging. Of rubbing his dick against Jensen's belly until it spurted between them. Of the way Jensen had clung to his shoulders through orgasm number four -- or was it five?
Of waking up this morning and not wanting to move, partly because a headache was starting to pound behind his eyes, and partly because he didn't think he could move without noticing exactly how much of a workout he'd had during the night.
And where'd all this remembering leave him? In Impala #2, trying to will down a pretty insistent hard-on and to remember his lines at the same time.
"Hey, man, you coming out tonight?" Jensen asked as they headed for the trailers to get changed and cleaned up.
"Nah," Jared replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm beat. I think I'm probably just gonna order some take-out and rent a couple shitty movies." Whether he'd actually watch those movies, instead of heading straight for the bedroom as soon as he got home so he could rub himself to a blistering climax, was another question entirely.
"Yeah, okay," Jensen replied, "Grandpa."
"What?"
"Dude, you're younger than me. You should have even more energy reserved for partying than I do." He ambled past Jared's trailer, calling over his shoulder, "You're going to wake up at fifty and wish you'd gone out more."
"Yeah, yeah," Jared replied. He climbed up into his trailer and shut the door a little too hard behind him.
As it turned out, Jared was more drained than he'd thought, because the idea of take-out and shitty movies seemed all the more appealing on his way home. He wound up on his sofa with some halfway-decent barbecue and The Hole in the DVD player, and was almost to the good part when his doorbell rang.
Sadie clambered to her feet and growled once, then sniffed the air and flopped back onto her bed, and Harley just opened his eyes for a minute and then closed them again. "Some guard dogs you are," Jared said, shaking his head in amusement.
He shut the styrofoam take-out box and tossed it on the coffee table, then stood and streeeetched, his back and shoulders popping, and walked to the door to peer through the peephole. He was only a little surprised to see Jensen standing on his welcome mat.
He unlatched and opened the door and, after Jensen pushed his way inside, said lamely, "Come on in."
"So here's the thing," Jensen said, standing close and shrugging out of his coat. "I wasn't that drunk."
Jared's heart thudded in his chest and he frowned. "What?"
"I," Jensen murmured, stepping closer, "remember. Everything."
Jared looked away, swallowing convulsively. "I don't know what you're -- "
"Don't play stupid, Jared," Jensen said, and pushed him flat up against the door.
"I can't -- " Jared began, shaking his head.
Jensen reached behind Jared and locked the door with a snick. Maybe he was standing on his toes, or maybe Jared was sliding down the door, because suddenly Jensen's mouth was on his and Jared didn't have to lower his head at all.
When Jensen pulled back, he licked his lips. "You had barbecue and didn't invite me?" he asked. "Some friend you are."
Jared snickered. Then he snorted. Then he let out a full-bodied guffaw that had Jensen giving him an odd look. "I cheated on my girlfriend with you, and I'm way more okay with that than I should be," Jared laughed. "Not to mention that all that sex last night probably threw a wrench into the gears of our working relationship. A minute ago you were swabbing my tonsils with your tongue, and now you're complaining about barbecue." He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. "My life is so surreal."
"Dude, you okay?" Jensen asked, concerned. "I could leave -- "
"Nah, don't go," Jared said. "Come watch The Hole with me, man. Keira Knightley's about to get naked, and we can make out on the couch like teenagers."
"You sure you're okay?" Jensen asked again. "Because dude, you just cracked up a little, and if you're going to lose it then I don't think I want to be here."
"I'm fine," Jared replied. "Just a little overwhelmed, maybe." He returned to the couch and flopped down on it in a comfortable sprawl, beckoning for Jensen to join him.
Jensen sat down carefully, almost on the edge of the couch, glancing worriedly at Jared.
"Man, I'm not gonna hurt you if you relax. Stop looking at me like I'm psycho." Jared hit the pause button on the DVD remote and the movie started up again. Then he grabbed Jensen by the wrist and hauled him up next to him, draping an arm around his shoulders.
"Jared -- " Jensen began, then stopped abruptly as Jared's hand landed on his thigh. He sighed. "I'll admit that I came here wanting to start something, but if you're not okay with that -- "
"Shh," Jared said, and pointed at the screen. "Watch the movie."
Naked Keira Knightley aside, there really wasn't anything engrossing about the DVD, which probably explained how Jared ended up laid out on the sofa with his shirt off and Jensen sprawled on top of him, sucking on his Adam's apple. His fingers dug into Jensen's shoulders, but he pulled his hands away when Jensen let out a soft hiss. "Did that hurt?" he asked, eyes rolling back a little as Jensen kissed his jaw, his ear, his throat.
"You gave me a pretty big bruise last night," Jensen said against Jared's cheek, "When you came, you bit me," and his words made Jared hump up against him helplessly.
"Not fair," Jared muttered with all the petulance of a surly three-year-old but all the pent-up sexual frustration of a twentysomething guy who hadn't gotten laid in a very long time, which was -- considering the previous night -- pretty ridiculous. "You talk like that, I'm gonna come in my pants."
Jensen whuffed out a soft laugh and nipped at the tender spot just below Jared's ear. "Maybe I want you to," he said.
"Okay, dude -- no," Jared half-moaned as Jensen set about trying to find every single one of his spots above the waist with his lips, tongue, and fingertips. "Bed," he insisted, "I don't want to ruin these pants."
"Too bad," Jensen muttered as he absolutely didn't move to let Jared up, "'cause it'd be fucking hot." He treated Jared to a full-body squirm, and then he was up and off him, and halfway to the bedroom by the time Jared had willed himself to move.
Jared tripped over Jensen's jeans in the hallway, and a pair of underwear that weren't his caught on his foot just inside the door of the bedroom. He kicked them off, his own jeans down to his knees, and shuffled forward, a little impatient with the restriction on his range of movement.
His eyes fixed on Jensen, who was jerking himself off almost lazily with a predatory look in his eyes, and if Jared didn't know any better he'd guess that any minute now, Jensen would be crawling toward him across the bed. Jared hopped around until his jeans fell off, then shucked off his boxers and dove onto the bed. The springs bounced and both of them snickered a little.
"We're gonna do this sober," Jensen said, and then he scooted down the bed and licked Jared's cock up and down like it was a fucking popsicle, and all Jared could do was to grab onto the bedspread and cling.
Jared bucked his hips and Jensen let him, and it was pretty much the hottest thing ever until one very enthusiastic hump knocked Jensen in the nose pretty hard, so Jensen held him down against the bed and sucked him until he screamed, which completely trumped the hip-bucking. And when Jensen pulled those full lips up and off his cock, maybe Jared whimpered a little, but all was forgiven when he felt those same lips nuzzling against his balls. He sucked softly on the loose skin of Jared's sac, and Jared's cell phone rang.
"Leave it," Jensen suggested, lips parting to take one of Jared's balls into his mouth.
Jared pushed him away. "I can't," he muttered, and he scrambled off the bed, cupping his cock to prevent it from bouncing as he crossed the room and dug in his jeans for the phone. "I -- " he flipped the phone open. "Hey, Sandy." He glanced at Jensen, who was now sitting up on the bed with his legs crossed, then looked away. "... I miss you too."
Jensen plucked a throw blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around his waist, then casually headed for the bedroom door. "I'll go," he mouthed.
Jared shook his head, only half-listening to his girlfriend talk about how hard it was to find an acting gig these days, and wasn't he lucky to have a full-time job on the show. His dick slowly wilted, and then he was standing in the middle of his bedroom like a big, sweaty, naked dork.
He heard the front door open and close.
Make that a big, sweaty, naked, solitary dork.
Chad was bitchy when people woke him up, Jared knew this. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to care as he dialed his number. With the time difference, it'd be close to 3 AM in Wilmington.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing calling me this late? I've got to be on set early."
"Consider it payback for the incident with the ant farm," Jared said with a snicker. Then he sobered. "Man, I fucked up."
"What'd you do, fuck Jensen?" Chad mumbled into the receiver.
Jared didn't reply.
"Oh shit, you did," Chad realized.
Jared sighed. There was some rustling on the other end. "What do I do?"
"Do?" Chad asked. Another pause. "Oh, sorry. I'm just having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that for once, your life is more screwed up than mine."
"Yeah, well I'm still not dating an eighteen-year-old," Jared shot back.
"Says the guy who's boning his big brother."
"At least I'm not banned from his prom."
"At least -- " Chad cut off. "Okay, you got me there. Man, what were you thinking?"
"Alcohol tasty?" Jared said feebly.
"Yeah, that's about what I was thinking when I proposed to Sophia."
Jared sighed again. "It wouldn't be so bad if it were just a drunken one-night stand, but there was almost a repeat tonight, and both of us were completely sober."
"Dude, you're fucked up."
Jared rolled his eyes.
"So what are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell Sandy what happened?"
"Fuck no," Jared said abruptly. "I love her, man."
"Funny way of showing it," Chad muttered. "Do you want to screw Jensen again?"
Jared closed his eyes. " ... fuck yes," he muttered.
"Whoa, whoa, this ain't phone sex, dude. Easy on the moaning."
"Shut up."
"So let me get this straight," Chad said. "You called me at... 3:10 AM to tell me that you cheated on your girlfriend and that you want to keep on cheating, without letting her know what's going on? Couldn't this have waited until morning?"
"No," Jared said miserably. "Tell me what to do, man. You've got more experience with screwed-up relationships."
"Nice, man. Real nice." There was some more rustling. "Listen, I really do need to sleep, or the makeup girls will have my ass for breakfast, and not in that fun way that you've no doubt explored with your co-star."
"Dude," Jared mumbled, "not cool."
"Neither is reminding me about very big past mistakes," Chad retorted. "Just -- tell Sandy, man. Or don't, it's up to you. I'm hanging up now."
"But -- " Jared said, to the click of the connection being broken. He closed his phone with a snap. "Fuck."
Jared wandered into the craft services tent like a zombie. "Coffee," he muttered, "need coffee." He'd been up almost all weekend trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do, and it'd taken a visible toll on him. He thought maybe this fifth cup of coffee might help, though.
It'd been agony trying to decide between Jensen and Sandy. If he chose Sandy, his friendship and onscreen chemistry with Jensen might be totally screwed up, and at any rate he wasn't sure he wanted to do without all the amazing, amazing sex or Jensen in general -- but on the other hand, he'd still have the girl he'd sometimes thought of marrying someday. If he chose Jensen, Sandy would be heartbroken and he probably would too, and it'd mean possibly taking the next step with Jensen but he didn't know what to do because he'd never taken that step with a guy before, and if they broke up then their dynamic would be fucked and he'd be out of a job, and it was driving him crazy --
"Jared, you okay?" asked one of the sound guys as he filled his own coffee cup.
Jared nodded stiffly. "Fine," he said, and took a swig from his now perilously warped styrofoam cup. "I'm fine."
He wasn't a greedy guy by nature, but a few times over the weekend Jared had seriously thought about having his cake and eating it too. He just had no idea who was the cake part, and who was the eating. Or if it really mattered who was who.
He thought maybe he needed therapy, or advice from someone whose life was mostly together. Maybe it'd been a bad idea to call Chad. This looked like a job for Superman.
» Part 2 of 2 »