Fic: Rattlesnake Smile (Jensen's Choice Timestamp)
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Read on A03
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Jensen’s phone starts to play Rattlesnake Smile, which means that Chris is calling him.
Unfortunately he’s a little tied up right now and can’t get to his cell phone, which is on charge beside the bed.
Jared’s next thrust is particularly brutal and Jensen turns his head away from the nightstand and glares at him.
“Pay attention,” Jared says.
“Jealous fucker,” Jensen retorts.
Jared doesn’t deny it. He does grind in deep, nailing Jensen’s prostate and pretty soon Jensen is panting and begging for a hand on his dick, straining for something, anything, to rub against.
Jared’s got him on his back, hands and feet tied to the posts of the bedhead behind him, his knees spread wide and Jared, the fucker, is up on his arms like a man doing push ups, deliberately not giving Jensen’s dick any friction.
“C’mon, Jay,” he says. He’s not begging. Not yet.
Jared’s smile is unsettling. The way he’s looming, shoulders rounded beside his ears like the hood of a cobra, reminds Jensen of a snake about to strike and sure enough, Jared comes at him fast, tongue piercing between Jensen’s lips with the deadly precision of a snake strike. Trussed as he is, Jensen can’t do anything but take it.
Jared’s tongue and cock thrust in tandem and his strength and power leave Jensen breathless. Or maybe that’s the devouring kiss. The noise Jensen makes when Jared pulls back isn’t exactly a whine, but it makes Jared smirk anyway.
“C’mon you fucker,” Jensen’s just about sobbing with need. “I gotta come, man. Please!”
“You’re gonna come on my cock,” Jared growls.
Jensen isn’t sure whether it’s a meant to be a threat or a promise, but then Jared swivels his hips and spears his prostate hard, and it actually turns out to be an accurate prediction, because Jensen’s orgasm hits him like a Mack truck. Jared fucks him through it, still wearing that rattlesnake smile, and then, then, when Jensen’s spent cock is softening on his belly, the fucker lies down on top of him, abs of steel rubbing against the over-sensitized damp head of Jensen’s dick.
Jensen pushes at him, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall.
“Quit that,” Jared says, thrusting lazily. “M’arms are tired now.”
“Get off me,” Jensen says. “It’s too much.”
Jared frowns. “What? This?” he thrusts again, his stomach rubbing Jensen’s cock in all the right (wrong) places.
Jensen chokes out a groan. “Stop it.”
“You can take it,” Jared says and begins to snap his hips with renewed vigour.
Jensen’s cock twitches painfully.
Jared’s right though. Jensen can take this. And what’s more, he’ll be through the discomfort in another few thrusts and then it’ll start to feel good again.
He won’t get fully hard, and he won’t come again-he’s not eighteen anymore-but Jensen knows he’ll start to enjoy the stimulation again soon, even if it’s not going to go anywhere.
Jensen’s ass is already aching; trying to close up around Jared’s fat pounding cock. He feels sore and sensitive, but it hurts so good.
He isn’t sure why exactly, but Jensen likes this almost as much as he likes coming; the time in between his orgasm and Jared’s, when he’s nothing more than a hole for Jared’s use. Jared’s chasing his orgasm like a man possessed and Jensen can do nothing except take the rough, heedless fucking. He may as well be a silicon sleeve for all the care Jared shows him and it’s probably really fucked up that he gets turned on by that, but Jensen stopped being ashamed of his kinks a long time ago.
Jensen drifts for a while feeling fucked out and content, until, finally, Jared sucks in a shuddering breath, rises up onto his arms again and picks up his pace. He hammers Jensen, in what Jensen has quietly termed the grand finale, before thrusting in deep one final time and coming with a shout, before collapsing on top of Jensen.
“Dude,” Jensen says a few minutes later. “Get the fuck off me.”
Jared does. And immediately unfastens the Velcro cuffs around Jensen’s wrists and ankles. The cuffs are soft and they haven’t marked him, but Jared rubs his wrists anyway. Jensen stretches his legs and tries not to roll his eyes. Jared likes to go overboard with the mother-henning after a scene.
“Stay there,” Jared says, “I’ll get a cloth.”
Jensen tolerates Jared cleaning the spunk off his stomach, but draws the line at his boyfriend wiping his ass.
“I’ll go and get you some juice,” Jared says, when Jensen successfully relieves him of the cloth after a short tussle.
“Fuck that,” Jensen scowls. “Bring me a beer.”
Jared raises an eyebrow. “We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“Coffee then.”
Jared sighs and pulls on his boxers.
--
When Jared finally returns with a mug of coffee for Jensen, Jensen has finished cleaning up and put on boxers and a tee-shirt. He’s sitting up (gingerly) and leaning back against the headboard, their black sheets tangled around his legs. He’s got a lit cigarette between his lips and is staring at his cell phone as if it’s personally offended him.
“What’s up?” Jared says, handing over the coffee.
Jensen takes the smoke out of his mouth and sips at the coffee, closing his eyes briefly and making a noise of pleasure that does interesting things to Jared’s libido.
Jensen sits silently, smoking and drinking and not answering Jared’s question. Jared crosses his arms and looks pointedly at the phone.
“Chris left a voicemail,” Jensen says finally, not meeting Jared’s eyes. “Him and Steve are in LA. They’re playing a gig tonight at Jinx. They wanna catch up.” Jensen finally raises his eyes. “They wanna meet you.”
Jared frowns. “Okay. Why is that a problem?”
“It’s not. It’s just. How are we gonna play this?”
Jared inclines his head. What he knows about Jensen’s best friend Chris, he’s learned in dribs and drabs, mostly after nights of heavy drinking. He knows the basics: Chris is gay, has been with Steve for five years and the two of them have a country music band called Kane. Jensen has known Chris since he was in elementary school, they met at some country club that Jensen’s parents used to drag him to. Chris and Jensen bonded over hating everyone there and everything about the place, and even though Chris is four years older, he’s had Jensen’s back ever since. Which isn’t always easy. Jared knows that from experience. He guesses Chris does too. That’s something they have in common.
Of course, Chris comes from a family with money, just like Jensen. This is something Jared doesn’t have in common with him and for one brief moment he feels off-kilter. Jensen and Chris share a background and a past that he can never hope to understand.
On the other hand, Jared and Jensen share a present and a lifestyle that Chris probably isn’t going to understand, which brings Jared back around to Jensen’s question. How are they going to play this?
Jared knows that Chris is a country boy; a real Texan cowboy; and that he’s got no love for authority. Jensen also says that he’s a straight-shooter; pays his taxes fair and square and everything.
“What have you told him?” Jared asks.
Jensen takes a final drag on his cigarette and butts it out. “Not much. He doesn’t know about the Club. He knows I got myself into some trouble last time I was out here. He knows about the coke and the rehab and that I left LA with some kind of debt hanging over my head, but we’ve never talked about it. He knows that debt came back to bite me in the ass and that’s why I came back to LA. He knows about you. But he doesn’t know about you. You know?”
“Okay,” Jared says.
Jensen nods. “Okay,” he echoes. He pulls another Marlboro Red out of the pack and toys with it. “Only Chris ain’t stupid. People know our names. Yours especially. And if he puts our names on the VIP list so that we can go see his gig,” Jensen sticks the cigarette in his mouth and lights it. “Jinx is on Santa Monica. It’s deep in our home territory. Ain’t a hope in hell they won’t know who we are.”
“Okay,” Jared says again. “So why is that a problem?”
Jensen’s eyebrows make a V above his nose. “If Chris puts us on the list, it makes Chris…connected.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Jensen huffs. “I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea about Chris and Steve because of their association with me.”
Jared nods. “So tell him we can’t make it.”
Jensen scrunches his nose. “He’d be hurt.”
Jared sighs and settles himself on the bed beside Jensen. “The way I see it, you’ve got three choices.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Great. You and your choices.”
Jared refuses to be derailed. “One: You don’t go, and risk hurting Chris. Two: You go and maybe fuck up Chris’s career if his label doesn’t like him being connected to a one percenter. Three: You tell him everything up front and let him decide what he’s willing to risk for your friendship.”
“Yeah,” Jensen takes a deep drag. “Fuck.”
--
An hour-and-a-half later Chris and Steve walk into a non-descript café in West Hollywood that’s owned by a friend of the Club. Jared and Jensen are waiting for them at a small round table right at the back and Chris’s face breaks into a huge grin the moment he spots Jensen.
There are hugs and backslaps and wide, open smiles.
Chris looks Jared up and down with narrow eyes and Jared didn’t get to be the President of an Outlaw MC without being able to read people. Chris knows damn well who-and what-he is.
“How’s the weather up there, Stretch?” Chris says.
“It’s raining,” Jared says. “Raindrops should get down to you in about half an hour.”
Chris turns to Jensen. “I like him,” he says, his voice entirely void of expression. “He’s funny.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, both of you.”
“Oh,” Jared feigns surprise, “I thought Chris was already sitting down.”
Jensen shoots him a warning look.
Chris bristles. “Just because you’ve got several inches on me, Sasquatch,” he begins.
“Don’t forget I’m taller too,” Jared quips.
Steve splutters with laughter and Jared is pretty sure he sees Chris’s lips twitch slightly too.
“Are we gonna have to get the rulers out here?” Steve asks.
“No point,” Jensen says. “Jared would win; no competition. He’s got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of dick in my time.”
Chris gives Jared a considering look and then sticks his hand out. “Chris Kane,” he says. “Best friend.”
Jared takes the offered hand. They both squeeze hard and don’t give an inch and Jared knows that the grudging respect he sees on Chris’s face is mirrored on his own. “Jared Padalecki,” he says. “Boyfriend.”
Jared and Jensen order breakfast-a big breakfast for Jensen and a big breakfast with a side of pancakes for Jared-and Chris and Steve just order coffee.
Jensen waits until they’re all settled and then says haltingly, “So, Chris. I wanted to catch up before the gig, because I wanted to be upfront with you about some stuff.”
“Some stuff?” Chris says. “You mean like Jared here being the President of HellSpawn MC and you being his Sergeant-at-arms?”
Jensen looks surprised, then betrayed. “You knew?”
Chris’s lips flatten into a thin line. “You really think I wasn’t gonna Google anyone who you were dating? Besides, we had a visit from the Feds, askin’ all sorts of questions about you. They went to see your parents too.”
“Fuck,” Jensen gets his cigarettes out and lights up. So much for keeping Chris and Steve off the radar.
Chris looks pointedly at the ‘No Smoking’ sign and Jensen shrugs.
“Right,” Chris says. “Because who’s gonna tell you no?”
“What did the Feds ask you?” Jared asks.
Chris shrugs. “How long have I known Jensen; what do I know about what he’s doing in LA. Would I wear a wire and try to get him talking about gun smuggling when I came to LA for the gig at Jinx.”
Jared goes very still and Chris leans in close. “I told them to go fuck themselves. You wanna frisk me?”
Jared shakes his head. He trusts that Chris would never do anything to hurt Jensen.
“I’m so sorry, Chris,” Jensen begins, but Chris cuts him off with a wave.
“You’ve always needed to live life right on the edge,” he says. “I don’t really get it, but I do see that what you’ve got here with Jared is good for you. You seem…content. Less like a bomb about to go off. I don’t know what illegal stuff your club’s involved in and I don’t wanna know either. You keep me out of all that. But we’re buddies, Jen, and that ain’t never gonna change. So…how about you give our old van a free custom paint job and we’ll call it even?”
“Of course,” Jensen nods. “I would’ve done that anyway,” he hesitates. “Are you sure you want us to come to the gig?”
“Hell yeah,” Chris says. “Might even get you up on stage.”
“No fuckin’ way,” Jensen says.
Jared looks at Chris and quirks an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” Chris nods. “Your boy can sing.”
Jared licks his lips and looks thoughtfully at Jensen.
“No,” Jensen reiterates.
“I’d really love to see you up on stage,” Jared’s voice is low and raspy. “See those pretty lips parted, right in front of the fat head of the microphone. See you thrusting your hips and shakin’ that fine ass.”
Jensen grabs hold of the Marlboros and his lighter and stands up. “Going outside for a smoke,” he says and takes off fast.
It’s a strategic retreat.
“I don’t get it,” Jared says to nobody in particular. “He let me tie him up and fuck him on a stage once.”
Chris stares at him. “Okay, first? Too much information. That’s one mental image I didn’t need. And second: Old man Ackles is an asshole.”
When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to add anything else, Jared prompts: “And?”
Chris shrugs. “And it ain’t for me to say any more’n that. You wanna know about Warren Mason Ackles,” he spits out the name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, “you ask your boy.”
And Jared can’t say that he likes that, but he does respect it.
He leans across and spears a piece of bacon that’s getting cold on Jensen’s plate. He pauses with the fork midway between the plate and his mouth and nails Chris with a look. “That rattlesnake song of yours,” he says. “Does he know it’s about him?”
Steve and Chris exchange a look. “What makes you say that?”
Jared snorts. “Do I look like somethin’ you can put in a fuckin’ cage?” he quotes.
Jared had tried caging Jensen, back when they’d first met. And while Jensen got a kick out of pretending that Jared was in complete control and that he didn’t have any choices, he’d soon made it clear that nobody was ever going to truly own him.
Chris concedes the point with a tilt of his head and then shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it, but yeah, I figure he knows.” He pauses and runs a hand across his jaw. “You’re good for him, you know. He needs someone who’ll let him be him, but won’t take his shit.”
Jared doesn’t need Chris’s approval, but it’s nice to have it.
When Jensen comes back he bitches at Jared for finishing his bacon. He’s tense, and Jared smiles to himself, picturing Jensen as a rattlesnake with his tail in the air, trying to make sure people keep their distance; that they don’t touch him. It just makes Jared want to lean in close, to show Jensen that he can bite all he likes, but he’s still going to belong to Jared, just like Jared belongs to him.
Jared lets everything he feels for Jensen show on his face and Jensen reacts in the usual way. He scowls, his expression morphing into quietly pleased when he thinks Jared is no longer watching. He hasn’t yet realized that Jared is always watching.
“Okay,” Jared gets to his feet. He turns to Chris and Steve. He explains that the check’s taken care of. That if they want anything else, they should just tell Ricky and he’ll put it on Jared’s tab.
“Let’s go,” he says to Jensen.
Jensen’s looks like he’s going to argue, but then he sees the expression in Jared’s eyes and rolls his own, before saying good bye to Chris and making his way out of the café with Jared trailing behind.
“You’re fuckin’ insatiable,” Jensen says when they get out into the sunlight.
Jared isn’t going to deny that. Besides, he’s just remembered that there’s one cage that Jensen (or Jensen’s dick anyway) most definitely belongs in and he plans to put it on him and then edge him until he’s drooling and delirious. Then he’ll fuck him slow and deep until he comes hard.
Jensen snorts. “I think I better get you home before you get us arrested for public indecency.”
Given that Jensen is hardly averse to a little public indecency now and then, Jared assumes that he just doesn’t want Chris to see him getting fucked up against the side of a building.
Jared climbs onto his Harley and grins wickedly. “Race you home,” he says. “If I win I get to spank you. With the paddle.”
Jensen’s tires spin so fast they send up smoke.
The End
Also in this series
Jensen's Choice
Sweet Insanity (Timestamp 1)
Read on A03
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Jensen’s phone starts to play Rattlesnake Smile, which means that Chris is calling him.
Unfortunately he’s a little tied up right now and can’t get to his cell phone, which is on charge beside the bed.
Jared’s next thrust is particularly brutal and Jensen turns his head away from the nightstand and glares at him.
“Pay attention,” Jared says.
“Jealous fucker,” Jensen retorts.
Jared doesn’t deny it. He does grind in deep, nailing Jensen’s prostate and pretty soon Jensen is panting and begging for a hand on his dick, straining for something, anything, to rub against.
Jared’s got him on his back, hands and feet tied to the posts of the bedhead behind him, his knees spread wide and Jared, the fucker, is up on his arms like a man doing push ups, deliberately not giving Jensen’s dick any friction.
“C’mon, Jay,” he says. He’s not begging. Not yet.
Jared’s smile is unsettling. The way he’s looming, shoulders rounded beside his ears like the hood of a cobra, reminds Jensen of a snake about to strike and sure enough, Jared comes at him fast, tongue piercing between Jensen’s lips with the deadly precision of a snake strike. Trussed as he is, Jensen can’t do anything but take it.
Jared’s tongue and cock thrust in tandem and his strength and power leave Jensen breathless. Or maybe that’s the devouring kiss. The noise Jensen makes when Jared pulls back isn’t exactly a whine, but it makes Jared smirk anyway.
“C’mon you fucker,” Jensen’s just about sobbing with need. “I gotta come, man. Please!”
“You’re gonna come on my cock,” Jared growls.
Jensen isn’t sure whether it’s a meant to be a threat or a promise, but then Jared swivels his hips and spears his prostate hard, and it actually turns out to be an accurate prediction, because Jensen’s orgasm hits him like a Mack truck. Jared fucks him through it, still wearing that rattlesnake smile, and then, then, when Jensen’s spent cock is softening on his belly, the fucker lies down on top of him, abs of steel rubbing against the over-sensitized damp head of Jensen’s dick.
Jensen pushes at him, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall.
“Quit that,” Jared says, thrusting lazily. “M’arms are tired now.”
“Get off me,” Jensen says. “It’s too much.”
Jared frowns. “What? This?” he thrusts again, his stomach rubbing Jensen’s cock in all the right (wrong) places.
Jensen chokes out a groan. “Stop it.”
“You can take it,” Jared says and begins to snap his hips with renewed vigour.
Jensen’s cock twitches painfully.
Jared’s right though. Jensen can take this. And what’s more, he’ll be through the discomfort in another few thrusts and then it’ll start to feel good again.
He won’t get fully hard, and he won’t come again-he’s not eighteen anymore-but Jensen knows he’ll start to enjoy the stimulation again soon, even if it’s not going to go anywhere.
Jensen’s ass is already aching; trying to close up around Jared’s fat pounding cock. He feels sore and sensitive, but it hurts so good.
He isn’t sure why exactly, but Jensen likes this almost as much as he likes coming; the time in between his orgasm and Jared’s, when he’s nothing more than a hole for Jared’s use. Jared’s chasing his orgasm like a man possessed and Jensen can do nothing except take the rough, heedless fucking. He may as well be a silicon sleeve for all the care Jared shows him and it’s probably really fucked up that he gets turned on by that, but Jensen stopped being ashamed of his kinks a long time ago.
Jensen drifts for a while feeling fucked out and content, until, finally, Jared sucks in a shuddering breath, rises up onto his arms again and picks up his pace. He hammers Jensen, in what Jensen has quietly termed the grand finale, before thrusting in deep one final time and coming with a shout, before collapsing on top of Jensen.
“Dude,” Jensen says a few minutes later. “Get the fuck off me.”
Jared does. And immediately unfastens the Velcro cuffs around Jensen’s wrists and ankles. The cuffs are soft and they haven’t marked him, but Jared rubs his wrists anyway. Jensen stretches his legs and tries not to roll his eyes. Jared likes to go overboard with the mother-henning after a scene.
“Stay there,” Jared says, “I’ll get a cloth.”
Jensen tolerates Jared cleaning the spunk off his stomach, but draws the line at his boyfriend wiping his ass.
“I’ll go and get you some juice,” Jared says, when Jensen successfully relieves him of the cloth after a short tussle.
“Fuck that,” Jensen scowls. “Bring me a beer.”
Jared raises an eyebrow. “We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“Coffee then.”
Jared sighs and pulls on his boxers.
--
When Jared finally returns with a mug of coffee for Jensen, Jensen has finished cleaning up and put on boxers and a tee-shirt. He’s sitting up (gingerly) and leaning back against the headboard, their black sheets tangled around his legs. He’s got a lit cigarette between his lips and is staring at his cell phone as if it’s personally offended him.
“What’s up?” Jared says, handing over the coffee.
Jensen takes the smoke out of his mouth and sips at the coffee, closing his eyes briefly and making a noise of pleasure that does interesting things to Jared’s libido.
Jensen sits silently, smoking and drinking and not answering Jared’s question. Jared crosses his arms and looks pointedly at the phone.
“Chris left a voicemail,” Jensen says finally, not meeting Jared’s eyes. “Him and Steve are in LA. They’re playing a gig tonight at Jinx. They wanna catch up.” Jensen finally raises his eyes. “They wanna meet you.”
Jared frowns. “Okay. Why is that a problem?”
“It’s not. It’s just. How are we gonna play this?”
Jared inclines his head. What he knows about Jensen’s best friend Chris, he’s learned in dribs and drabs, mostly after nights of heavy drinking. He knows the basics: Chris is gay, has been with Steve for five years and the two of them have a country music band called Kane. Jensen has known Chris since he was in elementary school, they met at some country club that Jensen’s parents used to drag him to. Chris and Jensen bonded over hating everyone there and everything about the place, and even though Chris is four years older, he’s had Jensen’s back ever since. Which isn’t always easy. Jared knows that from experience. He guesses Chris does too. That’s something they have in common.
Of course, Chris comes from a family with money, just like Jensen. This is something Jared doesn’t have in common with him and for one brief moment he feels off-kilter. Jensen and Chris share a background and a past that he can never hope to understand.
On the other hand, Jared and Jensen share a present and a lifestyle that Chris probably isn’t going to understand, which brings Jared back around to Jensen’s question. How are they going to play this?
Jared knows that Chris is a country boy; a real Texan cowboy; and that he’s got no love for authority. Jensen also says that he’s a straight-shooter; pays his taxes fair and square and everything.
“What have you told him?” Jared asks.
Jensen takes a final drag on his cigarette and butts it out. “Not much. He doesn’t know about the Club. He knows I got myself into some trouble last time I was out here. He knows about the coke and the rehab and that I left LA with some kind of debt hanging over my head, but we’ve never talked about it. He knows that debt came back to bite me in the ass and that’s why I came back to LA. He knows about you. But he doesn’t know about you. You know?”
“Okay,” Jared says.
Jensen nods. “Okay,” he echoes. He pulls another Marlboro Red out of the pack and toys with it. “Only Chris ain’t stupid. People know our names. Yours especially. And if he puts our names on the VIP list so that we can go see his gig,” Jensen sticks the cigarette in his mouth and lights it. “Jinx is on Santa Monica. It’s deep in our home territory. Ain’t a hope in hell they won’t know who we are.”
“Okay,” Jared says again. “So why is that a problem?”
Jensen’s eyebrows make a V above his nose. “If Chris puts us on the list, it makes Chris…connected.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Jensen huffs. “I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea about Chris and Steve because of their association with me.”
Jared nods. “So tell him we can’t make it.”
Jensen scrunches his nose. “He’d be hurt.”
Jared sighs and settles himself on the bed beside Jensen. “The way I see it, you’ve got three choices.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Great. You and your choices.”
Jared refuses to be derailed. “One: You don’t go, and risk hurting Chris. Two: You go and maybe fuck up Chris’s career if his label doesn’t like him being connected to a one percenter. Three: You tell him everything up front and let him decide what he’s willing to risk for your friendship.”
“Yeah,” Jensen takes a deep drag. “Fuck.”
--
An hour-and-a-half later Chris and Steve walk into a non-descript café in West Hollywood that’s owned by a friend of the Club. Jared and Jensen are waiting for them at a small round table right at the back and Chris’s face breaks into a huge grin the moment he spots Jensen.
There are hugs and backslaps and wide, open smiles.
Chris looks Jared up and down with narrow eyes and Jared didn’t get to be the President of an Outlaw MC without being able to read people. Chris knows damn well who-and what-he is.
“How’s the weather up there, Stretch?” Chris says.
“It’s raining,” Jared says. “Raindrops should get down to you in about half an hour.”
Chris turns to Jensen. “I like him,” he says, his voice entirely void of expression. “He’s funny.”
Jensen rolls his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, both of you.”
“Oh,” Jared feigns surprise, “I thought Chris was already sitting down.”
Jensen shoots him a warning look.
Chris bristles. “Just because you’ve got several inches on me, Sasquatch,” he begins.
“Don’t forget I’m taller too,” Jared quips.
Steve splutters with laughter and Jared is pretty sure he sees Chris’s lips twitch slightly too.
“Are we gonna have to get the rulers out here?” Steve asks.
“No point,” Jensen says. “Jared would win; no competition. He’s got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of dick in my time.”
Chris gives Jared a considering look and then sticks his hand out. “Chris Kane,” he says. “Best friend.”
Jared takes the offered hand. They both squeeze hard and don’t give an inch and Jared knows that the grudging respect he sees on Chris’s face is mirrored on his own. “Jared Padalecki,” he says. “Boyfriend.”
Jared and Jensen order breakfast-a big breakfast for Jensen and a big breakfast with a side of pancakes for Jared-and Chris and Steve just order coffee.
Jensen waits until they’re all settled and then says haltingly, “So, Chris. I wanted to catch up before the gig, because I wanted to be upfront with you about some stuff.”
“Some stuff?” Chris says. “You mean like Jared here being the President of HellSpawn MC and you being his Sergeant-at-arms?”
Jensen looks surprised, then betrayed. “You knew?”
Chris’s lips flatten into a thin line. “You really think I wasn’t gonna Google anyone who you were dating? Besides, we had a visit from the Feds, askin’ all sorts of questions about you. They went to see your parents too.”
“Fuck,” Jensen gets his cigarettes out and lights up. So much for keeping Chris and Steve off the radar.
Chris looks pointedly at the ‘No Smoking’ sign and Jensen shrugs.
“Right,” Chris says. “Because who’s gonna tell you no?”
“What did the Feds ask you?” Jared asks.
Chris shrugs. “How long have I known Jensen; what do I know about what he’s doing in LA. Would I wear a wire and try to get him talking about gun smuggling when I came to LA for the gig at Jinx.”
Jared goes very still and Chris leans in close. “I told them to go fuck themselves. You wanna frisk me?”
Jared shakes his head. He trusts that Chris would never do anything to hurt Jensen.
“I’m so sorry, Chris,” Jensen begins, but Chris cuts him off with a wave.
“You’ve always needed to live life right on the edge,” he says. “I don’t really get it, but I do see that what you’ve got here with Jared is good for you. You seem…content. Less like a bomb about to go off. I don’t know what illegal stuff your club’s involved in and I don’t wanna know either. You keep me out of all that. But we’re buddies, Jen, and that ain’t never gonna change. So…how about you give our old van a free custom paint job and we’ll call it even?”
“Of course,” Jensen nods. “I would’ve done that anyway,” he hesitates. “Are you sure you want us to come to the gig?”
“Hell yeah,” Chris says. “Might even get you up on stage.”
“No fuckin’ way,” Jensen says.
Jared looks at Chris and quirks an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” Chris nods. “Your boy can sing.”
Jared licks his lips and looks thoughtfully at Jensen.
“No,” Jensen reiterates.
“I’d really love to see you up on stage,” Jared’s voice is low and raspy. “See those pretty lips parted, right in front of the fat head of the microphone. See you thrusting your hips and shakin’ that fine ass.”
Jensen grabs hold of the Marlboros and his lighter and stands up. “Going outside for a smoke,” he says and takes off fast.
It’s a strategic retreat.
“I don’t get it,” Jared says to nobody in particular. “He let me tie him up and fuck him on a stage once.”
Chris stares at him. “Okay, first? Too much information. That’s one mental image I didn’t need. And second: Old man Ackles is an asshole.”
When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to add anything else, Jared prompts: “And?”
Chris shrugs. “And it ain’t for me to say any more’n that. You wanna know about Warren Mason Ackles,” he spits out the name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, “you ask your boy.”
And Jared can’t say that he likes that, but he does respect it.
He leans across and spears a piece of bacon that’s getting cold on Jensen’s plate. He pauses with the fork midway between the plate and his mouth and nails Chris with a look. “That rattlesnake song of yours,” he says. “Does he know it’s about him?”
Steve and Chris exchange a look. “What makes you say that?”
Jared snorts. “Do I look like somethin’ you can put in a fuckin’ cage?” he quotes.
Jared had tried caging Jensen, back when they’d first met. And while Jensen got a kick out of pretending that Jared was in complete control and that he didn’t have any choices, he’d soon made it clear that nobody was ever going to truly own him.
Chris concedes the point with a tilt of his head and then shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it, but yeah, I figure he knows.” He pauses and runs a hand across his jaw. “You’re good for him, you know. He needs someone who’ll let him be him, but won’t take his shit.”
Jared doesn’t need Chris’s approval, but it’s nice to have it.
When Jensen comes back he bitches at Jared for finishing his bacon. He’s tense, and Jared smiles to himself, picturing Jensen as a rattlesnake with his tail in the air, trying to make sure people keep their distance; that they don’t touch him. It just makes Jared want to lean in close, to show Jensen that he can bite all he likes, but he’s still going to belong to Jared, just like Jared belongs to him.
Jared lets everything he feels for Jensen show on his face and Jensen reacts in the usual way. He scowls, his expression morphing into quietly pleased when he thinks Jared is no longer watching. He hasn’t yet realized that Jared is always watching.
“Okay,” Jared gets to his feet. He turns to Chris and Steve. He explains that the check’s taken care of. That if they want anything else, they should just tell Ricky and he’ll put it on Jared’s tab.
“Let’s go,” he says to Jensen.
Jensen’s looks like he’s going to argue, but then he sees the expression in Jared’s eyes and rolls his own, before saying good bye to Chris and making his way out of the café with Jared trailing behind.
“You’re fuckin’ insatiable,” Jensen says when they get out into the sunlight.
Jared isn’t going to deny that. Besides, he’s just remembered that there’s one cage that Jensen (or Jensen’s dick anyway) most definitely belongs in and he plans to put it on him and then edge him until he’s drooling and delirious. Then he’ll fuck him slow and deep until he comes hard.
Jensen snorts. “I think I better get you home before you get us arrested for public indecency.”
Given that Jensen is hardly averse to a little public indecency now and then, Jared assumes that he just doesn’t want Chris to see him getting fucked up against the side of a building.
Jared climbs onto his Harley and grins wickedly. “Race you home,” he says. “If I win I get to spank you. With the paddle.”
Jensen’s tires spin so fast they send up smoke.
The End
Also in this series
Jensen's Choice
Sweet Insanity (Timestamp 1)