Fic: A thousand dollars for a kiss: Chapter Four
As always, when Jensen arrived, the front door of Sebastian’s penthouse apartment was unlocked. Jensen took a moment to school his expression and get into the right headspace and then pushed inside.
“Hi Honey,” he called out. “I’m home!”
He made his way across the black marble floors of the entrance hall and into the living room. Sebastian appeared in the doorway to the study, his electric blue silk shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest and his arms spread wide.
“Darling!” he said.
Jensen walked into his embrace and was pulled up against Sebastian’s chest, his plain silver dog tag necklace digging into Jensen’s flesh.
Sebastian pulled back and slipped his arm around Jensen’s shoulders. “I need your expert opinion,” he said. “I’ve got an exhibition coming up at The J Paul Getty Center. Male Nudes. I’m just doing the final selections. I’m trying to decide between Pierre and Erik from the San Francisco Ballet and Adam Rittman doing his best impression of a Baroque sculpture. What do you think?”
Jensen looked over the poster-sized black and white photos on the table in the study. “The dancers,” he said immediately. “The muscles in those asses…wow. Very hot. What else is going in the exhibit?”
Sebastian opened a black leather art folio and motioned for Jensen to flick through the photographs contained within it. They too, were all poster-sized black and whites.
“Oh no,” Jensen dropped a photograph of himself back into the folio. It was a nice shot, but he was naked-except for a cowboy hat and a pair of tight black briefs with ‘USA’ printed on the front in silver. And okay, you couldn’t really see his face, what with the way his head was ducked and he was peering up shyly from beneath the broad brim of the hat, while using one hand to push down the briefs, but still. “You’re not displaying that!”
“Au contraire, Darling,” Sebastian said. “The contract you signed gives me express permission to do just that. Oh now, come on, don’t pout. You’re stunning in that photograph. It’s tasteful. And you’ll be hanging in The J Paul Getty Museum. That’s tremendous exposure.”
“Yeah,” said Jensen. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
Sebastian put both hands on his shoulders. “You’re a model, Darling. And a gorgeous one at that. Being hung in a prestigious gallery is good for your modelling career. I’ll even get you a couple of free tickets to the Opening. You can bring that friend of yours, Christian. Or Miss Danneel, perhaps.”
Jensen bit his bottom lip. Sebastian was right about it being good for his modelling career. And even if he wasn’t, there was nothing Jensen could do about it. The contract he’d signed had stipulated that certain works could be publicly displayed.
“You’re right,” he said. “I just…you’re right.”
“You’re not an extrovert. I get it,” Sebastian put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and began to massage him. “You’re so tense. I bet I know how I can fix that.” He took hold of Jensen’s hand and pulled him to the bedroom. “Take your shirt off and lie face down on the bed,” he said, in the low voice he used when he was trying to be seductive. “I’ll get the massage oil.”
Massage oil. Shirt off. Bed. Right. They’d got to the business part of the evening. Jensen bit back a sigh. Sometimes he wasn’t surprised that Sebastian still harbored delusions that they were more than hooker and client; because there was more to their relationship than just that; they were friends. And they did move easily from hanging out as friends to business. It was no wonder, really, that Seb confused the ‘boyfriend experience’ he paid for with the real thing.
Later, when Jensen had showered and re-dressed and picked his money up from the side table, he joined Sebastian in the living room.
“This one’s Japanese,” Seb said, handing Jensen an Asahi.
“I know,” Jensen sat down carefully on the arm chair opposite Seb. “Emilio’s Liquor on Santa Monica sells it.”
“Oh,” Sebastian looked disappointed. He liked to introduce Jensen to new and exotic beers.
Jensen took a long drink and then leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs and the bottle dangling from two fingers. He looked up at the photographer and cleared his throat.
“We need to talk, Sebastian.”
“Oh dear. That sounds serious.”
Jensen nodded. “I’m, uh, seeing someone.”
Sebastian stared at him. “Seeing someone?”
“Yeah. You know. Dating.”
“Dating?”
“What are you? A parrot?”
Sebastian frowned. “But…I thought we had an understanding.”
Jensen closed his eyes briefly. “You and I have a business arrangement. And yes, here we are having a beer together. Work colleagues who happen to actually like each other do that sometimes, after work.”
Sebastian’s mouth was flat and his eyes hooded. “That’s how you see this? As a drink after work?”
“It’s not how I see it, it’s how it is. I’ve told you this before, Seb. You’re one of my favorite clients, but that still makes you a client. I’m not your boyfriend and I’m never gonna be your boyfriend.”
“And this man,” Sebastian stilled and then looked up at Jensen with a frown. “I assume it’s a man?”
Jensen nodded.
“He’s your boyfriend?”
Jensen hesitated. “Not yet, but it’s heading there.”
“So you’re quitting? Your ‘job’?”
Jensen shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe in a year or so. But not yet.”
Sebastian’s lips curled. “And how does your new man feel about your job?”
“He’s strangely unfazed by it. But then Jared’s a one-of-a-kind kinda guy.”
“Jared, hey? What’s his surname?”
Jensen realized that he didn’t actually know the answer to that, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Sebastian. “I don’t think you need to know that,” he said instead, making a mental note to ask Jared next time he saw him.
“Beg to differ, Darling,” Sebastian said. “I’ll need it if I’m going to invite him to the Exhibition Opening. I assume you’ll want him to come?”
“I. Uh,” Jensen ran a hand across his mouth. “I’ll check with him and get back to you, okay?”
“So was that all you wanted to tell me? Or was there something else?”
Jensen drew a deep breath. “There is something else, actually. Now that I’m with Jared, I’m not gonna do bareback with clients anymore.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “You told me you quit doing that four years ago!”
“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. “With all my clients except you.”
Jensen watched as Sebastian shrank in on himself, just a little. “Oh,” he said. “Right. Of course.”
Sebastian took a swig of beer and then straightened up, his eyes sparkling with something that could’ve been mischief, or anger, or possibly grief. “I presume you’ll be knocking something off your fee to reflect that change?”
“Of course. Price goes down to $300.00.”
Sebastian sniffed. “One hundred dollars? That’s the premium you put on your health? Potentially your life?”
Jensen frowned. “No. I’ve turned down jobs worth thousands because they involved bare backing. I didn’t charge you much extra because we’re friends. I trust you Seb. And I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. I want you to know that.”
“Oh dear,” Sebastian put his beer down on the side table. “That sounded an awful lot like good bye.”
“Not good bye,” Jensen finished his beer and got to his feet. “Just see ya later. I’ll be back next week.”
Sebastian nodded. “Don’t forget to get your man’s full name to me if he wants to come to the Exhibition Opening.”
As usual, he walked Jensen to the door and kissed him goodnight. But for the first time, Jensen felt that he might have finally gotten through to him.
--
Jared was struggling to make a decision. What did he want more? A touch screen or a pretty color? He was sort of leaning toward the pretty colors; red, blue, yellow, orange, silver, green. The cell phones were spread before him like a rainbow. Jared rather liked the green one. And the silver one.
“Jared. Dude,” Chad put an arm around his shoulders. “Forget about those Nokias, man. These Motorolas are the bomb. They’re flip phones and they’ve got touch screens! Touch screens! That’s so cool.”
Jared scrunched up his nose. “Yeah. But they’re kinda boring. They only come in black and…I think these ones,” he gestured at the brightly-colored Nokias, “are more fun.”
Chad rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Trust you to like the pretty rainbow-colored phones. They remind you of candy, don’t they?”
Jared ducked his head and then looked up from beneath his bangs.
“Maybe,” he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m definitely getting one. What do you think, Chad? Green? Or silver? Or what about this red one? It’s kinda sparkly!”
Half an hour and one very frazzled and bemused sales assistant later, Jared walked out of the shop with a brand new sparkly red Nokia 5110.
Back in the privacy of his own bedroom he keyed Jensen’s cell phone number into ‘contacts’, then Chad’s, then Jeff’s, then Sam’s and finally his mom’s. He sent Jensen a quick text message letting him know that he’d gotten himself a cell phone and then he called his mom, which meant he ended up being on the phone for so long that his ear got hot and red because he had to talk to all of his siblings, as well as his grandparents, too. The phone had beeped while he was talking to Raisa and when he hung up he found that he had a text message from Jensen welcoming him to the modern world. Jared called him back immediately.
“Hey.”
Just the deep, gravelly tone of Jensen’s voice warmed Jared all the way through.
“I bought a cell phone,” he said happily.
“I know,” Jensen sounded amused “So where are you right now?”
“I’m at home. In my bedroom.”
“Yeah? Me too. I’m stretched out on my bed.”
“Me too!”
“Hey Jare?” Jensen’s voice deepened and became even more sultry than usual, “What are you wearing?”
“Uh…track pants and a tee-shirt. Why?”
“Because all I’m wearing is a pair of tight, black briefs. And Jared? I really wish you were here so that you could use those big hands of yours to strip them off me.”
Jared had already been starting to get hard, just at the thought of Jensen stretched out on his bed wearing nothing but tiny, tight underwear. The idea of peeling those briefs off of Jensen’s body and seeing his dick bounce free had him rock hard so fast it was almost dizzying.
“Oh God,” he groaned into the phone. “You gotta stop it, Jensen. Go put some clothes on.”
Jensen sniggered. “Why? It ain’t like you can see me.”
“I can’t think about you like that! Not with Jeff and Sam in the other room!”
“Are you hard for me, Jare?” Jensen’s voice was once again sultry and teasing. “Do you want me to slide my hot, wet mouth down the length of your hard cock? Suck you so good that you spill fast down my throat?”
Jared groaned, long and loud. “Stop it! I can’t…” he grabbed the base of his dick and breathed, trying not to come in his pants. “Please stop.”
“Jared?” The sultry tone was completely gone. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just… You’re too tempting. And I can’t. Not with Jeff and Sam here.”
There was a pause. “You mean you don’t even jerk off if they’re in the house?”
“No! The apartment’s too small. It would be awkward.”
There was another brief silence. “For the record, I’m wearing track pants and a tee-shirt too.”
“What? But you said…?”
“Phone sex, Jared. The idea is to turn each other on.”
“Oh. Well, good job with that. Sorry I couldn’t, uh, return the favor.”
Jensen snorted. “Are you kidding? Just thinking about you getting so hard you nearly come in your pants is enough to turn me on. Actually, just thinking about you is enough to turn me on.”
“Oh,” Jared blushed. “Uh. What are you doing this evening?”
“Nothing,” Jensen’s tone soured. “I’ve got an appointment with a regular in a little while, but I’ll be home by eight. And then I’ll just be sitting here with my personal security alarm in one hand and my Glock in the other, watching Seinfeld, because everyone’s working late tonight and I’m staying away from the beat until this thing with Mark blows over.”
“You have a gun?” Jared screeched.
“For protection. In case Mark figures out I’m home alone and sends his goons around to work me over.”
“No,” Jared shook his head vigorously. “No, no, no. Don’t be alone. Come here instead.”
Jensen hesitated. “I’d love to. But it’s probably not safe for me to be walking alone around near where you live right now.”
“Okay. Hang on. Just…don’t go anywhere.”
Jared put his cell phone down and hurried out into the kitchen where Jeff and Sam were cooking supper together.
“Jeff! Jensen’s gonna be all alone tonight. He’s gonna be sitting in his apartment with a gun and a personal alarm, in case Mark’s guys break in and beat him up! We have to go and get him!”
Jared fixed Jeff with the most beseeching puppy dog eyes he could manage. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam nod at Jeff.
“Sure,” Jeff said. “Now?”
Jared shook his head. “Later. He has to work first.”
Jeff frowned. “Is that safe?”
Jared explained that the client was a regular, someone Jensen trusted and Jeff stroked his beard and asked what time they should pick him up.
“Around eight?”
Back in his room Jared picked up his cell phone.
“Jensen? Jeff and I are going to come and pick you up at eight o’clock and bring you here, okay?”
Jensen laughed. “You and your dad are gonna come pick me up for a play date? That’s adorable, Jare.”
“Shut up! I just don’t want you to get hurt. And I want to spend time with you,” and then he added in an undertone, “and I only wish Jeff was my dad.”
“Jared?” Jensen’s query was soft.
“It’s nothing,” Jared said quickly.
Jensen sighed. “It’s not nothing. Your dad. Did he…was he…”
“No. He wasn’t bad. Not to us. He just…he was never home much and when he was, he wasn’t a lot of fun. And he’s a hypocrite. Demanding we behave a certain way at home, but at the same time, he was out there in the big wide world, being the exact opposite.”
“I hate when people do that,” Jensen said. “When they have one face they show the world and another completely different one that they wear behind closed doors,” he sighed and there was a brief silence. “Hey, Jare? Thanks. For coming to get me later.”
“It’s not a problem. Ooh. Should we have a secret knock?” Jared bounced on his bed. “You know, so that you’ll know it’s us and not the bad guys.”
Jensen laughed, deep and throaty. “You could just try calling out ‘hey, it’s me, Jared.’ That’d work.”
“You’re no fun,” Jared pouted.
“I’m lots of fun,” Jensen said. “Guess I’m gonna have to prove that to you when I come around.”
He hung up before Jared could respond.
--
Jared was sorely tempted to knock ‘shave and a haircut’ on Jensen’s front door, because he was pretty sure that was something that bad guys wouldn’t do. Instead, he just followed Jensen’s advice, knocked and called out that it was him and Jeff.
There was the rattling of numerous locks being unfastened and then the door inched open, the safety chain still attached.
“What’s the password?” Jensen said.
Jared gaped. “You ass! You said we couldn’t have a secret knock or anything!”
Jensen snickered and swung the door wide open.
“Hi Jeff. Come on in guys, I’ll just put some shoes on.”
Jensen’s skin was shower-warm, his hair was damp and messy and he was dressed in dark grey track pants and a stained, over-sized olive green hoodie.
“Did you get my text message?” Jared asked.
Jensen finished pulling on his socks and then hefted a small backpack. “Got all the paperwork in here,” he put it back down and then went in search of sneakers.
As he pulled on his old, ratty, black and white Nikes, Jensen glanced up and saw Jeff looking at him thoughtfully.
“Sorry,” Jeff said off of Jensen’s raised eyebrow, “It’s just…you’re usually so…put together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so,” Jeff appeared to fumble for the right word, “casual.”
Jensen’s other eyebrow joined the first one. “And here we have the Hooker in its natural habitat,” Jensen intoned in his best dramatic wildlife documentary voice. “When not trying to attract a paying customer, the Hooker is just as capable of being a slob as anyone else.”
“Sorry,” Jeff said, coloring slightly.
Jared smacked Jensen’s arm. “Don’t be so prickly,” he said. “Usually, you even dress nicely when you come to scrub pans down at Per vias rectas, so don’t blame Jeff for being surprised. It’s good, though. That you’re relaxed enough around us to just be your regular slob self.”
Jensen’s mouth fell open slightly and then he grinned. “Okay. Fair call,” he hefted his backpack. “We ready to roll?”
Back at Sam and Jeff’s apartment Jared and Jensen spread their college applications out on the kitchen table and began to work on them.
“Did you sit the SATs Jensen?” Jeff asked.
Jensen nodded. He pulled a piece of paper out of a pile on the table and handed it to Jeff. Jeff whistled. “97th percentile. Well done! That’s outstanding!”
Jensen smiled. “Not just a pretty face, huh Jeff?”
“A score like this is a real credit to you Jensen, considering you never went to high school.”
Jensen ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“So about your extra-curricular activities,” Jeff began.
Jensen barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna mention those.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Keep helping out around here and I’ll give you a good reference. Community service work always looks good on a college application.”
“Mention the work you’ve done as a model too,” Jared said.
“And make sure you apply for financial aid,” Sam added.
Jensen bristled. “I don’t need financial aid,” he said coolly.
“Everyone should apply for financial aid,” Sam said. “You won’t get anything you’re not entitled to.”
“Do you need any help with the essay?” Jeff asked.
Jensen got to his feet. “Restroom’s that way, right?”
He disappeared into the bathroom and Jared folded his arms and cleared his throat. “Uh guys? I know you mean well, but y’all might wanna back off a little. Jensen’s used to having to do everything on his own. You’re crowding him.”
Sam sighed and sat down next to Jared. “One of the things I learnt when I did my course is that there are two types of people: orchids and dandelions. Orchids flourish when conditions are just right and wither when they aren't. Dandelions, on the other hand, grow just fine in a wide range of conditions. Jensen’s a dandelion.”
Jared looked at her dubiously. “I don’t think Jensen would appreciate being compared to flowers.”
“It’s an allegorical way of saying he’s very resilient,” Sam said. “And resilient people have four things in common,” she ticked them off on her fingers, “social competence, problem-solving skills, autonomy, and a sense of purpose and future. Jensen has all of these characteristics in spades and that’s why he’s gonna make it. But even dandelions can use a little tending sometimes.”
The sound of a throat clearing attracted their attention. “That flower thing?” said Jensen, “that’s a bullshit comparison. Whoever came up with it clearly didn’t know shit about orchids.”
“Do you know something about orchids?” asked Jared.
Jensen ran a hand over his jaw and then nodded. “My mama used to grow ‘em, back home in Texas. The best way to kill orchids is to over-water ‘em or over-fertilize ‘em. Mama always used to say that orchids thrived on abuse. That was why she liked ‘em. It reminded her that something beautiful and exotic could grow outta the harshest conditions.”
Jared turned to Jeff and Sam. “You heard the man,” he said. “Stop trying to over-water my beautiful orchid!”
Jensen actually blushed at that and tried to flee back into the bathroom, but Jared wouldn’t let him. He dragged him back to the kitchen table, shooed Jeff and Sam away, and then began to work quietly on his own transfer applications, leaving Jensen alone to regain his equilibrium.
At half past ten Jeff and Sam headed to bed. “Please don’t walk home,” Jeff said to Jensen. “It’d probably be safest if you just stayed here the night.”
Jensen agreed that he would do that and texted Chris to let him know.
“Wanna hit the hay?” Jensen waggled his eyebrows.
Jared bit at his bottom lip. “I’ve only got a single bed,” he confessed.
Jensen shrugged and began to pack away all his college paperwork. “We’ll make it work.”
Jensen actually had a few of life’s little essentials packed away in an inner pocket of the backpack and it wasn’t long before they were curled tightly together in Jared’s tiny single bed, their breath minty fresh, and condoms and lube standing on the night stand, right next to the Bible. Jensen had actually put them on top of the Bible, but that had made Jared uncomfortable and he’d moved them, to a great deal of eye-rolling from Jensen.
“I can guarantee you God isn’t watching,” Jensen said. “He doesn’t give a shit what people do.”
“God is always watching,” Jared contradicted softly. “And he does care. He just doesn’t interfere in human choices.”
Jensen snorted. “Sounds like a bullshit cop-out to me.”
Jared pulled back then and saw the very real anger in Jensen’s eyes.
“It’s free will, Jensen. Without it, we’re just a bunch of pre-programmed automatons, incapable of love or art or appreciating a sunset. But the problem with free will is that if you have it, and I have it, so do murderers and rapists. God can't just go in and take away free will from certain people or the entire concept falls apart, and besides, God doesn’t go back on His Word. He gave His Word about free will, so as horrible as some of the choices that people make are, God can’t just make them do what He wants.”
“What about that saying of Jeff’s?” Jensen’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, “the standard you walk past is the standard you accept. If God can just stand by and watch a kid get fucking raped, then how can he claim to love that kid? How can he expect that kid to trust him ever again? And didn’t he used to smite whole villages and turn people into salt because he didn’t like their choices? If God even exists, which I seriously doubt, then he’s nothing but a neglectful, deadbeat dad.”
Jared’s own eyes were filled with tears too now. He held Jensen close and buried his face in his neck. “I hate the thought of you getting hurt; hate the idea that people have hurt you in the past. But-”
“I swear to God,” Jensen said flatly, “that if you say everything happens for a reason, I will punch you.”
Jared bit at his bottom lip. “All I know,” he said, “is that I love the man you grew to be. And that man is the sum of everything that happened to him.”
Jensen blinked. “You love me?”
“I… Yeah. I do.”
Jensen snuggled closer against Jared’s chest and they lay in silence for a long moment, just clinging to each other. Finally, Jensen spoke. “My one VIP client that I was still doing bareback with, I told him today I wouldn’t be doing it any more. Because I was seeing someone. Someone I hoped would be my boyfriend one day.”
Jared drew breath sharply and then frowned. “You were talking about me, right?”
Jensen smacked him lightly on the forehead. “Yes, Jared, I was talking about you. And speaking of Seb-”
“Who?”
“The client. His name’s Sebastian. He’s a pretty famous photographer and I’ve done a fair bit of modelling work for him.”
Jared beamed. “Hey, that’s awesome!”
“Yeah. So he’s having an exhibition at the J Paul Getty Center and he invited me to the opening. And when I told him about you, he said I should invite you to come too.”
“I’d love to!”
“Right. So he’s gonna need your full name for the ticket. And when he asked me for it, I realized that I had no idea what your surname even was.”
Jared thought quickly. Most people had no idea what his dad’s real name was, just knew him by his stage name. And even if they did know it, what were the odds that they’d link gay Jared who worked at a drop-in center in West Hollywood with a homophobic A-list movie star?
“It’s Gumm,” he said. And then he spelled it out. “Pretty lame, huh? You can see why I don’t go out of my way to tell anyone,” he hesitated and then said, “I don’t know your surname either.”
Jensen worried at his bottom lip for a moment and then told him that it was Ackles.
“Jensen Ackles,” Jared mused. “J Ackles. Jackles. That’s gonna be my nickname for you. Jackles,” he reached out and stroked Jensen’s nose and then ran his fingertips over his cheeks. “Jackles Freckles,” he said.
Jensen pushed his hand away. “Freak.”
“Yeah, but I’m your freak,” Jared lowered his lips until they were almost on Jensen’s. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” it was more of a breath than a word, and Jared closed the gap between them and kissed Jensen softly, before licking his way into the older man’s mouth.
Jensen was breathless by the time Jared pulled away. He ran a hand across his spit-slicked lips and shuddered slightly at the look of reverence in Jared’s eyes. When it came to sex, Jared was clumsy and eager and completely lacking in skill, but he was so passionate and so devoted to making Jensen feel good that it really didn’t matter.
“We shouldn’t do more than kiss,” Jared said regretfully. “Not with Sam and Jeff in the other room.”
Jensen pouted. “I can be quiet,” he said. “Can you?”
Jared’s eyes darkened. “Yeah,” he said. “I can be quiet.”
They stripped in haste, hands fumbling, arms and legs tangling, and then rolled onto their sides, slotting their dicks together, kissing again, and rutting against each other, the only sounds in the room their harsh breaths and the brush of skin against skin. Jensen slid a hand between them and grasped their dicks, squeezing and stroking, and Jared moaned into his mouth, as his big dick swelled even more and began to dribble pre-come from the tip.
“Need you,” Jensen mumbled against Jared’s lips, “Need you inside me so bad, Jare.”
One of Jared’s arms snaked around behind Jensen and he rubbed his fingers against his ass. “Can I?” he asked.
Jensen reached out blindly behind him. He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and flicked open the cap, squeezing a little of the gel onto Jared’s fingers. “I prepped before I went to work,” he said, “it’s all clean back there.”
Jared blinked. He’d been so worked up, so caught up in the moment that the hygiene aspects hadn’t even occurred to him. So much for spontaneity. It seemed as if any type of anal play was going to have to involve a degree of forethought and preparation.
Jared slipped a greased-up finger in between Jensen’s ass checks and, at Jensen’s nod of encouragement he pressed against his hole. It was hot and soft and gave way easily, allowing him to push a finger deep inside of Jensen. Jensen groaned. “S’not enough,” he said. “Give me another one.”
Jared complied, pulling his finger free and then coming back with two. Jensen moaned in satisfaction and Jared pumped in and out until he found a rhythm, counterpoint to Jensen’s stroking of their dicks. He began to pump harder, deeper and changed the angle a little. When he brushed up against a small, soft nub Jensen moaned again and bucked up against him. “Oh yeah, that’s it, right there!”
It only took a half-dozen more thrusts of his fingers and Jensen was coming. His ass squeezed Jared’s fingers hard and that was all it took to push him over the edge as well.
As they came down from the high, they lay panting together for a moment and then got moving slowly, cleaning up and redressing before lying together, wrapped in each other, again.
“You really liked that,” Jared said.
“It was awesome,” Jensen mumbled sleepily.
Jared bit at his bottom lip. “I’ve never…I’m not sure if I even want…”
Jensen put a finger against Jared’s lips. “I’d love for you to fuck me,” he said. “But if that’s not something you want, then I don’t care.”
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”
Jensen shook his head. “We’ll do it right,” he said, “It shouldn’t hurt; not more than a twinge,” he let his eyes fall closed. “But hey, it you wanna stick to blowjobs and hand jobs and not worry about anal, that’s cool too.”
Jared shook his head. “I want to make you feel good. I love the way you moan and thrash around and just lose it,” he bit his lip again. “I love you, Jensen,” he said softly.
Jensen opened one eye. “Ditto,” he said.
Jared frowned. “Ditto? Really?”
Jensen gave a half shrug. “Hey, if it was good enough for Swayze, it’s good enough for me.”
Jared had actually seen Ghost, so he got the reference.
“But it wasn’t good enough for Swayze. At the end he needed to actually tell her that he loved her.”
Jensen shut his eye and snuggled against Jared. “Well maybe I’ll tell you I love you at the end too. Now shut up. I’m sleepy.”
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