Fic: Jared/Jensen, Jared/Jeff/Jensen for Marti. ♥
Title: Snapshots.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Jared/Jeff/Jensen.
Rating: From gen to NC-17.
Summary: Brief moments in time.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Beta: zelda_zee ♥
Notes: Birthday ficcage for astra2104 - 10 interconnected drabbles based on word prompts that I asked her for when my brain came up empty on the fic requests she made. It’s not what you originally asked for, hon, but I hope you like it anyway. Happy Birthday!
Snapshots
Jared used to love Halloween. It was always his favourite time of year because it gave him an excuse for playing tricks on people and eating candy until he felt sick. But the thrill has gone now, he spends every day playing dress up and chasing ghosts, and sure, yeah, he still gets to play tricks on people and there’s always more candy than he can eat but he wouldn’t have even noticed that Halloween was drawing near if it wasn’t for the cinnamon in Jensen’s pumpkin spice latte, that he can taste on his lips when he kisses him.
~
Jensen never really understood addiction until he met Jared. He’d never fully grasped what a person meant when they said they were longing for a cigarette or that they needed a drink. It always sounded so unimportant in his head: ‘longing’, ‘need’ -- words rather than emotions, flat-sounding, with no hint of desperation at all. But he gets it now. The Pavlovian response that has him half-hard just from thinking Jared’s name is so firmly embedded in his brain that words like need and want and longing have a new meaning, one that Jensen is sure he’ll never want to shake.
~
Jared doesn’t think he’ll ever get bored of seeing Jensen lying fucked-out and spent beside him. Every time they do this it ends the same, with Jared on his side, propped up on one elbow, drinking in the sight of Jensen’s heavy-lidded eyes as he hovers on the edge of sleep. Watching Jensen’s lips, still red and cock-bruised, parting as his breathing slows, his hand coming up to bat away the fingertips that Jared runs across his skin even as he wriggles and arches into the feel of them. They’ve done this 100 times already and Jared’s not bored yet.
~
Vancouver is cold. No matter how many years he spends working here, Jensen is sure he won’t ever get used to the chill that always seems to hang in the air. Today’s no exception: the sky is a dull gray, heavy with clouds that constantly threaten rain but that haven’t yet delivered it, the wind is whistling through the trees that surround the lake where they’re shooting and his clothes are soaked from filming the drowning scene again and again. But huddled together with Jared, a single blanket wrapped around the pair of them, Jensen doesn’t feel cold at all.
~
The voice in Jeff’s head is telling him he’s insane. It was only yesterday that he walked on set for the first time and only a couple of days before that he met the rest of the cast and yet, here he is, sitting buck-naked in his hotel suite with his cock in his hand, watching Jared fuck Jensen through the mattress, knowing it’s his turn to fuck him next. Sure, this might be insane, but Jeff’s thanking his lucky stars for getting him here because, right now, he’s damn sure there is no place else he would rather be.
~
Jared learned quickly that award shows are boring. All the glitz and glamour they show on TV is just that, a show. The reality is long waits for things that never happen, false smiles and handshakes for the people who win that dissolve into muttered disappointment as soon as their backs are turned. The only thing that keeps him alert and pretending to be interested is the constant stream of pornographic fantasies Jensen whispers in his ear and the thought that soon, when the show is over, they can go back to the hotel and try them out for real.
~
It’s been a long, rough day, too many retakes of too many emotional scenes and Jensen can feel the tension of it all rolling like an electrical storm in the pit of his stomach. He needs to find a way to release it but Jared is too busy playing some dumb Playstation game to notice the sparks that Jensen is sure must be visible crackling across his skin. He tries to hold back but it’s no good, he can’t wait any longer, so he swipes the controller out of Jared’s hands and silences his protests with a hungry, open-mouthed kiss.
~
He can’t stop the desperate pleas that bubble up and spill from his mouth in a constant stream. Words that make him sound like a slut who’ll do anything as long as Jeff keeps fucking into him harder, faster, and really, Jared doesn’t care how he sounds because it feels so fucking good. It’s like a sensory overload, Jeff inside him, stretching and filling him, the slap of their bodies colliding ricocheting around the room, and Jensen watching, his eyes blown to black pools and his gaze so heavy with lust that Jared can feel it raking across his skin.
~
There are so many things Jensen wants to say, but the words feel trapped in his throat, like an itch he’ll only be able to cough out when the moment has passed and Jared’s sitting aboard a plane on his way home. They said their goodbyes last night with lingering touches and softly spoken promises, drawing out the night until finally falling into sleep as the sun rose. Jensen knows the summer will pass quickly and they’ll be back in Vancouver soon, but he’s so used to being with Jared that he’s guessing those few months will seem like years.
~
The grass feels prickly against his skin. The Texas sun has scorched the green out of it, turning it to sharp stubble that scratches at him as he moves. But Jared isn’t focusing on the feel of the grass beneath him, he’s too busy focusing on Jensen’s voice as it curls down the phone line and into his ear. It’s enough to start a slow, lazy hum of arousal that Jared knows will build until there’s nothing he can do but give in to it and jerk off to the sound of Jensen doing exactly the same thing in L.A.
Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Jared/Jeff/Jensen.
Rating: From gen to NC-17.
Summary: Brief moments in time.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Beta: zelda_zee ♥
Notes: Birthday ficcage for astra2104 - 10 interconnected drabbles based on word prompts that I asked her for when my brain came up empty on the fic requests she made. It’s not what you originally asked for, hon, but I hope you like it anyway. Happy Birthday!
Snapshots
Jared used to love Halloween. It was always his favourite time of year because it gave him an excuse for playing tricks on people and eating candy until he felt sick. But the thrill has gone now, he spends every day playing dress up and chasing ghosts, and sure, yeah, he still gets to play tricks on people and there’s always more candy than he can eat but he wouldn’t have even noticed that Halloween was drawing near if it wasn’t for the cinnamon in Jensen’s pumpkin spice latte, that he can taste on his lips when he kisses him.
~
Jensen never really understood addiction until he met Jared. He’d never fully grasped what a person meant when they said they were longing for a cigarette or that they needed a drink. It always sounded so unimportant in his head: ‘longing’, ‘need’ -- words rather than emotions, flat-sounding, with no hint of desperation at all. But he gets it now. The Pavlovian response that has him half-hard just from thinking Jared’s name is so firmly embedded in his brain that words like need and want and longing have a new meaning, one that Jensen is sure he’ll never want to shake.
~
Jared doesn’t think he’ll ever get bored of seeing Jensen lying fucked-out and spent beside him. Every time they do this it ends the same, with Jared on his side, propped up on one elbow, drinking in the sight of Jensen’s heavy-lidded eyes as he hovers on the edge of sleep. Watching Jensen’s lips, still red and cock-bruised, parting as his breathing slows, his hand coming up to bat away the fingertips that Jared runs across his skin even as he wriggles and arches into the feel of them. They’ve done this 100 times already and Jared’s not bored yet.
~
Vancouver is cold. No matter how many years he spends working here, Jensen is sure he won’t ever get used to the chill that always seems to hang in the air. Today’s no exception: the sky is a dull gray, heavy with clouds that constantly threaten rain but that haven’t yet delivered it, the wind is whistling through the trees that surround the lake where they’re shooting and his clothes are soaked from filming the drowning scene again and again. But huddled together with Jared, a single blanket wrapped around the pair of them, Jensen doesn’t feel cold at all.
~
The voice in Jeff’s head is telling him he’s insane. It was only yesterday that he walked on set for the first time and only a couple of days before that he met the rest of the cast and yet, here he is, sitting buck-naked in his hotel suite with his cock in his hand, watching Jared fuck Jensen through the mattress, knowing it’s his turn to fuck him next. Sure, this might be insane, but Jeff’s thanking his lucky stars for getting him here because, right now, he’s damn sure there is no place else he would rather be.
~
Jared learned quickly that award shows are boring. All the glitz and glamour they show on TV is just that, a show. The reality is long waits for things that never happen, false smiles and handshakes for the people who win that dissolve into muttered disappointment as soon as their backs are turned. The only thing that keeps him alert and pretending to be interested is the constant stream of pornographic fantasies Jensen whispers in his ear and the thought that soon, when the show is over, they can go back to the hotel and try them out for real.
~
It’s been a long, rough day, too many retakes of too many emotional scenes and Jensen can feel the tension of it all rolling like an electrical storm in the pit of his stomach. He needs to find a way to release it but Jared is too busy playing some dumb Playstation game to notice the sparks that Jensen is sure must be visible crackling across his skin. He tries to hold back but it’s no good, he can’t wait any longer, so he swipes the controller out of Jared’s hands and silences his protests with a hungry, open-mouthed kiss.
~
He can’t stop the desperate pleas that bubble up and spill from his mouth in a constant stream. Words that make him sound like a slut who’ll do anything as long as Jeff keeps fucking into him harder, faster, and really, Jared doesn’t care how he sounds because it feels so fucking good. It’s like a sensory overload, Jeff inside him, stretching and filling him, the slap of their bodies colliding ricocheting around the room, and Jensen watching, his eyes blown to black pools and his gaze so heavy with lust that Jared can feel it raking across his skin.
~
There are so many things Jensen wants to say, but the words feel trapped in his throat, like an itch he’ll only be able to cough out when the moment has passed and Jared’s sitting aboard a plane on his way home. They said their goodbyes last night with lingering touches and softly spoken promises, drawing out the night until finally falling into sleep as the sun rose. Jensen knows the summer will pass quickly and they’ll be back in Vancouver soon, but he’s so used to being with Jared that he’s guessing those few months will seem like years.
~
The grass feels prickly against his skin. The Texas sun has scorched the green out of it, turning it to sharp stubble that scratches at him as he moves. But Jared isn’t focusing on the feel of the grass beneath him, he’s too busy focusing on Jensen’s voice as it curls down the phone line and into his ear. It’s enough to start a slow, lazy hum of arousal that Jared knows will build until there’s nothing he can do but give in to it and jerk off to the sound of Jensen doing exactly the same thing in L.A.