"A Lot Like Swimming," Jared/Sandy/Jensen, NC-17
Title: A Lot Like Swimming
Author: annalazarus
Pairing: Jared/Sandy/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Category: Porn, with some talking beforehand
Disclaimer: I don't believe this happened, and neither should you.
Summary: In which Sandy admits her boobs are fake, Jared is sort of a tease, and Jensen does not get elbowed in the face.
Warnings: Sandy's a girl. Do I need to warn for that?
Notes: Thanks once again to sevenfists for beta and cheerleading.
Sunday morning, and Jensen’s standing in Jared’s kitchen making coffee and wondering where his shirt and socks went. At least he’s still in his jeans. He thinks he won at strip poker, but he doesn’t recall Sandy taking off her shirt, so maybe he’s wrong about that. Rosenbaum definitely lost. Jensen shudders at the memory and decides he probably won’t be playing strip poker again for awhile.
As far as he can remember, the Smallvilleguys and their designated driver-who hopefully was not in possession of a camera- left around two, and Jensen passed out on Jared’s couch.
He hears, “Hey,” and turns to see Sandy in a pair of boy-cut underwear and a tank top, casually flipping her hair over her shoulder. Jensen tries not to look at her breasts and fails, as always. He’s slightly mortified by his inability to keep his eyes off of Sandy’s boobs. He ought to have some sort of control. First of all because she’s Jared’s girlfriend and that’s just not cool; second of all because he dated a girl who made her living with her breasts and stared at them less.
Jensen turns away and rubs at his shoulder.
“Sore?” Sandy asks.
“Yeah,” he says, turning back around and managing to meet her eyes this time. “I’ve been hitting the gym trying to bulk up so I don’t look like a midget next to your freakishly huge boyfriend.”
“You should ask Jared for a back rub,” she says, bright-eyed and smiling. “He’s good at it. It’s those huge hands, you know?”
Not for the first time, Jensen reflects that Sandy McCoy is a big ball of evil wrapped up in a cute little package. She knows exactly how to push buttons Jensen won’t even admit to having. Like when Jared mentioned how he hoped he could cut his hair for the summer and she said, “But Jare, it’s the perfect length to grab right now,” or when she was folding Jared’s jeans and cheerily announced, “I swear, that boy’s legs go on for miles.” Jensen can’t prove that Sandy knows how much time he spends thinking about Jared’s long legs, big hands, and grabbable hair, and Jen figures that his compulsion to stare at her boobs probably throws her off anyway, but still. Evil.
Jared wanders into the kitchen, rubbing his face with both hands and saying, “Shit man, why exactly did we get so drunk last night?”
“Because your teeny tiny girlfriend bet me she could drink me under the table, and I couldn’t let her challenge my manliness like that and get away with it,” Jensen replies, now unable to look at either of them, because Jared’s in nothing but boxers.
“So why did I get so drunk?” Jared says, filling a glass with tap water.
Sandy pipes in with, “You said even if I couldn’t take Jensen down, you certainly could.” And Jensen nearly chokes on his coffee with the mental image that conjures up.
“Ah. Right,” Jared downs the water. “So who won?”
“Yeah,” Sandy sighs. “We kind of forgot to keep track of that.”
“I kicked both your asses and you know it,” Jensen says. “Now which of you losers wants to buy me breakfast?” Because leaving the house means getting dressed, which means less inappropriate staring at his attractive friends who are fucking each other and not him.
They find a diner with free coffee refills and a breakfast menu composed mostly of grease. Sandy and Jared sit with their knees and shoulders touching. They smile at the same time even when they’re not looking at each other. Sandy bets Jared she can chug a glass of orange juice faster than him, and then swears she would have won if he hadn’t made her laugh and spray juice all over herself.
Jared grabs a napkin, says, “Here, let me help you clean up,” and promptly cops a feel.
Sandy smacks him and says, “Jesus. Why am I dating such a dumbass?”
Jensen wants to tell them both to stop being so goddamn cute, but can’t figure out a polite way to phrase it.
The next Friday, Jensen goes over to Jared’s under the pretense of watching a basketball game that neither of them cares about. The day’s shoot had been particularly shitty, the show hadn’t been picked up for a full season yet, and Jensen didn’t really want to sit at home alone wondering whether sports medicine might be a better choice for him after all.
The game’s a blow out and Jared gets restless, which means he starts acting like an over-sugared twelve-year-old.
“You ever been bungee jumping?” he asks out of the blue.
“Yup,” Jensen says, continuing to watch the TV and taking a sip of his beer. He’s found that the best course of action when Jared’s like this is to avoid eye contact as much as possible, since Jared’s usually spoiling for a wrestling match when he’s bored. Jensen’s had a little too much to drink to be sure he won’t, say, lick Jared’s neck during said wrestling match.
“How about sky diving?”
“Nope. Never been skydiving.”
“We should do that!”
“I’m thinking Eric might not agree to that.”
“Oh, come on,” Jared’s manhandling him now, big hands pushing and grabbing at his side. “You too chicken?”
Jensen rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up before I hit you over the head with this beer bottle.”
Jared gets up, grabs two more beers, sits down, and does not offer the second beer to Jensen. He chugs half of the first beer and says, “What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Probably having sex in the teachers’ lounge during prom,” Jensen responds. He smiles, thinking about Marie flipping up her peach-pink dress to reveal the frilliest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. She’d been a girl with a plan, and he’d seen no reason to turn her down.
“Didja get caught?” Jared asks.
“Um, no. Not by the teachers. I wasn’t exactly, strictly speaking, at the prom with the girl I had sex with.”
“So her date beat the hell out of you?”
Jensen laughs, wondering why the hell he’s telling Jared this story. Maybe because it just never occurs to him not to tell Jared everything that’s ever happened to him. “Wrong again. My date found us, and whacked me silly with her shoe.”
“Her shoe?”
“Yup. Then Marie told my date that’s what she got for refusing to put out, and all hell broke loose.” Thank god prom had been only three weeks before graduation.
Jared throws his head back and laughs, and Jensen thinks that’s almost worth the fact that by Monday morning the entire crew will know he got beat up by a girl. “You know, if your life were a porno, that little scene would’ve ended very differently.”
Jensen thinks that if his life were a porno, last Saturday night would have ended very differently too, and chuckles.
“You ever done that?” Jared asks, and Jensen wonders when the boy’s mind wandered off without him.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Had two girls. Without one of them hitting you. Unless you go for that kinky stuff, I guess.”
Jensen finishes off his beer and considers giving the answer he usually gives to the question: Yes, it was the hottest thing ever to happen to me as a Heterosexual Male. But hell, he’s already told Jared so many stories that no one else knows, what’s one more? “Yeah,” he says. “This girl I briefly dated and a friend of hers.” He smiles. “We were really, really drunk, and I ended up getting elbowed in the face. Kinda ruined the mood. So they, uh, they finished without me.”
Jared cracks up again and says, “Man, only you could screw up a threesome.”
“Yeah, probably,” Jensen agrees. He’s suddenly exhausted. Too much honesty, he thinks. “I’m gonna take off. Call me tomorrow if anything interesting is happening?”
“Yeah,” Jared agrees.
Jensen puts his shoes on and grabs his coat. He’s at the door when he hears Jared call, “Hey Jensen?”
“Yeah?” he replies, turning around.
“You should try it again sometime. Get it right.” Jared’s head is resting against the back of the couch, and Jensen can’t see his face to tell if it’s just general advice or a freakin’ invitation.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says as neutrally as possible, and leaves.
He dreams of them that night, Jared’s hands on his face, Sandy’s lips hot on the back of his neck. Then Sandy above him, riding him, her mouth red and wide, Jared’s hands on her breasts. Sandy throws her head back and Jared’s hands move to her hips, moving her up and down on Jensen’s cock as she shudders and sobs.
He wakes up sweating and gasping, jerks off alternately imagining Jared’s hand or Sandy’s mouth on him.
Two weeks later, they’re on a short break in LA when Jared calls him up and says Jensen should come by. Sandy answers the door with a pen stuck in her cleavage, and Jensen wonders why the universe hates him. He points mutely as he walks in and she says, “Yeah, Tom’s got a weird fascination with my boobs.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Jared says behind her. “They’re nice boobs. Aren’t they nice, Jensen?”
Sandy hits Jared before Jensen can figure out what to say to that. “Don’t be an ass!” she says. “Sorry Jensen, for some reason the fact that they’ve all seen my tits makes these morons think they’re are an appropriate topic of conversation.”
Jensen’s mouth starts moving without the aid of his brain. “I. What? Wait, when did everyone see your boobs?” He regains his equilibrium and adds, “And why wasn’t I invited?”
Sandy rolls her eyes and says, “It was a movie, and I was a moron and didn’t realize it would end up all over the internet. I also didn’t realize Jared’s friends are all huge pervs.” She yells the last two words over her shoulder, drawing laughs from the living room. She shrugs. “Whatever. I’d be more annoyed if they were my real boobs, but since they’re glued on anyway, I can’t get that worked up over it.”
“Oh.” Jensen thinks of telling her that Joanna’s tits were fake too and the first couple of times he touched them he was afraid he’d cause some sort of rupture, but decides that’s too much information for even the current conversation. Instead he says, “I brought beer,” and Sandy smiles and kisses him on the cheek.
He and Jared are used to eighteen hour days, and they outlast the rest of the guests, ending the night arguing football over Sandy’s sleeping form. Jared looks down at her with open affection and gently brushes the hair off of her face. Jensen follows the motion of Jared’s hand and feels something inside him twist a little. He looks up to see Jared watching him with the same warmth. Jensen wonders just how drunk Jared is. Jared reaches over and touches Jensen’s face, his thumb resting against the corner of Jensen’s mouth. “Hey,” Jared says softly. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Jen can’t open his mouth, knows he’d suck Jared’s finger into his mouth, and Sandy is right there, so he just nods.
“Okay,” Jared says. Keeping his eyes on Jensen, he leans down and kisses Sandy’s forehead, saying, “Wake up babe.”
She makes a little mewling noise and stretches, her sleep-hot body brushing Jensen’s side. She yawns widely, and licks her lips, pink tongue as slow and languid as the rest of her body. Jensen’s mind conjures up an image of Jared carrying sleepy Sandy to the bedroom, resting her small body on his chest and reaching under her clothes with the same hands that were just touching Jensen.
Jensen’s not even sure what he wants right now, but he knows he wants it badly.
Sandy kisses Jensen’s shoulder and says, “Stay for breakfast. We actually have food for once.” She stands, pulling on Jared’s arm. Jared grins and follows her.
Jensen lies down, tries not to think about the fact that the couch smells equally of aftershave and perfume. He hears Jared murmuring and Sandy giggling. He wonders what would happen if he got up and walked down the hall to their room, just stood in the doorway. He kind of wants to. He falls asleep.
The next month goes by in a blur of early mornings, late nights, wet outdoor shoots, and green screen work. They don’t have more than a day off at a time, and those days are mostly spent sleeping. Jensen thinks of talking to Jared, but isn’t sure what the hell he could say that wouldn’t come out entirely wrong.
They get two days off, and Jensen decides to head to LA to visit Chris and Steve, but his plans fall apart when a huge storm hits California and heads up the coast. He considers calling Jared, but thinks a weekend to himself might be nice instead. That plan is also shot to hell when Jared and Sandy show up at his doorstep with enough food for the weekend, a case of beer, and a handle of tequila.
“Yay for monsoons!” Jared declares, pouring shots. “Good thing Miss Sandy checked the weather channel and flew up a day early, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says with a small smile, carefully looking at the shot glasses and not Jared or Sandy.
They putter around the kitchen, making sandwiches, drinking, and talking. Jensen thinks they’re touching him more than usual, but he knows it’s just paranoia. They’re just being friendly, in their completely personal-space-ignoring way.
The rain starts as they’re doing the dishes. The power goes out two hours later and Jared lights the hurricane lamps that Sandy-the-weather-goddess had brought along. He and Jensen play cards while Sandy pulls out a large black book and a folder full of pictures and papers.
“What’s that?” Jensen asks.
“Scrapbook,” she replies. “I make theme pages.” She looks up and says, “Don’t laugh!”
“I wasn’t going to!” Jen says, holding up his hands.
“Jared laughs at me.”
“I do not!” Jared protests. Sandy gives him a skeptical look. “Okay, I may have questioned the need for pastel balloon stickers on the page for my birthday.” Sandy purses her lips. “And the sparkly baseball bats and gloves from when I threw out that first pitch, but I think it’s sweet. I do!”
Sandy rolls her eyes and looks at Jensen. “I like to have pictures, real pictures that I can hold. I always travel with a bunch of photos and the book I’m working on.”
“It’s a security blanket thing,” Jared says quietly. “And I would never laugh at you about it, babe.”
Sandy stands, walks over to Jared and kisses him lushly. Jensen wonders if it would be appropriate to just get up and leave, because he doesn’t think he can explain why he’s got a hard-on without getting punched by one or both of them.
Then, leaving her hands on Jared’s shoulders, Sandy leans over and presses her lips softly to Jensen’s.
He gapes, searches for words as she smiles widely, obviously expecting something from him. “Thanks?” he finally hazards.
She laughs, loud and full, like Jared, tilts her chin and says, “I promise: no elbows,” and kisses him again.
Jensen looks over at Jared, who smiles and says, “I swear it was her idea.”
Sandy nudges Jen with her nose and whispers, “He’s a liar, but he’s a great kisser.” She pushes Jensen’s head forward a little and Jared is there to meet him, all soft lips and rough fingertips.
They shuffle to the bedroom, Sandy and Jared with their arms wrapped around Jensen, like they’re afraid he’s going to try and get away. Jensen doesn’t want to get away, but he’s happy to have them pushing him along. He feels like his brain is two steps behind the action, and he’s waiting for things to start making sense so he can decide what to do.
Jared pulls a chair up next to the bed, and Sandy gently pushes him down into it. She cups his face with her small hands and says, “Hey? You can call time or stop or whatever whenever you want.” She strokes his cheek. “We just…we both really wanted to do this, and we thought maybe you did too. Just. Yeah.” She leans forward and kisses him, undoing his pants and stroking his cock gently as she presses her lips to his.
Then she’s stepping back, pulling her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her pants. Jared is already naked and waiting for her, back propped against the headboard. Jensen’s not sure how Jared can look even taller sitting down, but he somehow manages it. Sandy straddles Jared’s lap and they start kissing, slowly and carefully, and Jensen thinks maybe he’s not the only nervous one here.
The kissing goes on for a long time, Jared’s tongue slipping slowly between Sandy’s lips, Sandy’s hands roaming over Jared’s chest. Jensen’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t foreplay. They move together in slow motion for a long time, skin against skin, breath growing shallow.
“What do you want?” Jared whispers so softly Jensen’s not sure he’s meant to hear it.
“Fingers. Your hand. C’mon baby,” she murmurs back.
It’s porn, better than porn, because he can smell Sandy’s fruity shampoo and Jared’s sweat, see how she kisses his temple and gasps as he slides two fingers into her, hear her murmur, “Oh baby, just a little harder. There, yeah, okay.” They move like they’ve done this a thousand times before, like they want to touch each other forever, like Jensen’s not sitting three feet away from them wondering what Jared’s skin tastes like and how wet Sandy must be for him to be able to hear Jared’s fingers slipping in and out of her.
Jensen’s stunned and lust-dazed, wants badly to touch himself, but doesn’t want to do anything that might distract Jared and Sandy.
She’s rolling her hips, fucking his fingers in time to the rhythm of her gasps. He’s got his mouth on her breast, teeth catching and worrying her nipple as she moves. His tongue laps at her tender skin, and her cries rise in pitch as her body begins to shake. She comes with a choked sob as Jared runs his free hand over her belly.
Jared slips his fingers out of her and brings them to her lips. She shuts her eyes and sucks them into her mouth and Jensen has to close his eyes, because this is too intimate; he shouldn’t be seeing this.
“Hey,” he hears. “Hey,” and there’s a hand on his knee. He opens his eyes to see Sandy leaning over and smiling at him. “Are you okay?”
Jensen nods, because while okay maybe isn’t the word for it, he knows he needs to touch them them now. He takes Sandy’s hand and lets her slide his jeans down his legs, steps out of them and lifts his knees onto the bed, where Jared damply nuzzles his neck.
Sandy’s fingers caress his forearms and hands, drawing him forward and down. He finds himself between Jared’s outspread legs, Sandy dragging her lips over his. Jensen kisses her deeply, reaches forward to stroke at the slickness between her legs. She moans into his mouth, tongue licking hard against his lips.
Jensen hears a gasp to his left and looks up to see Jared, gorgeous long fingers wrapped around his full cock.
“God, Jared,” Sandy says. “There are two of us to help you with that. You couldn’t wait a second?”
She licks up Jensen’s neck, sucks lightly behind his ear and murmurs, “You want to?”
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jensen replies.
When she kisses him again and says, “We’ll take turns?”, he thinks he might pass out.
Sandy laces a hand in the back of his hair and guides him forward, her cheek pressed to his. They settle on either side of Jared’s hips, Sandy laying her hand over Jared’s. She leans over, lapping at the underside of Jared’s cock. She smiles at Jensen and he takes the cue to lean over and swirl his tongue around the head. There’s a groan from Jared far above them, and when Sandy whispers, “C’mon,” Jensen’s more than happy to begin licking lavishly, his tongue colliding and tangling with Sandy’s as Jared’s moans continue, until he realizes Jared is moaning, “Please, please.”
Jared begging makes Jensen’s stomach jump, and he nudges Sandy with his shoulder, moving her aside. He sucks Jared down as far as he can take him, moves back up quickly, then sucks down hard again. Jared bucks his hips, and Jensen chokes a little, deciding that a cock down his throat is still way better than an elbow to the face. He feels Jared go still above him and pulls up to mouth the head as Jared spurts hot against the roof of Jensen's mouth.
Sandy’s there to meet Jensen when he pulls off, roughly pushing her tongue into his mouth, eagerly licking. “Your turn,” she says, pulling him down on top of her.
Jensen gets his hands on her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples, nearly coming when she shudders beneath him. He’s not going to last long, he knows it, so when she takes him in hand and guides his cock into her welcoming heat, he’s thankful that she stops moving then, gives him a chance to catch his breath.
He feels big hands on his hips. “Incredible, isn’t she?” Jared whispers in Jensen’s ear. “You’re a lucky man. I wouldn’t share a pussy like that with just anyone.”
Jensen bites his lip and thrusts harder, feeling Sandy’s hips rocking up to meet his.
Jared’s hands slide over Jensen’s ass, spreading him open. Jared’s tongue touches him and Jensen sees red behind his eyelids. He chokes on a sob, wet heat around his cock and against his asshole sending him crashing over the edge.
He’s cradled between Sandy and Jared when he catches his breath, and they’re kissing around his shoulders. “They’re predicting two more days of rain,” Sandy says, to him or Jared, he’s not sure. “Think we can fill up the time?”
“I think so, maybe,” Jared replies, and Jensen wonders if he’ll survive the weekend.
Author: annalazarus
Pairing: Jared/Sandy/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Category: Porn, with some talking beforehand
Disclaimer: I don't believe this happened, and neither should you.
Summary: In which Sandy admits her boobs are fake, Jared is sort of a tease, and Jensen does not get elbowed in the face.
Warnings: Sandy's a girl. Do I need to warn for that?
Notes: Thanks once again to sevenfists for beta and cheerleading.
Sunday morning, and Jensen’s standing in Jared’s kitchen making coffee and wondering where his shirt and socks went. At least he’s still in his jeans. He thinks he won at strip poker, but he doesn’t recall Sandy taking off her shirt, so maybe he’s wrong about that. Rosenbaum definitely lost. Jensen shudders at the memory and decides he probably won’t be playing strip poker again for awhile.
As far as he can remember, the Smallvilleguys and their designated driver-who hopefully was not in possession of a camera- left around two, and Jensen passed out on Jared’s couch.
He hears, “Hey,” and turns to see Sandy in a pair of boy-cut underwear and a tank top, casually flipping her hair over her shoulder. Jensen tries not to look at her breasts and fails, as always. He’s slightly mortified by his inability to keep his eyes off of Sandy’s boobs. He ought to have some sort of control. First of all because she’s Jared’s girlfriend and that’s just not cool; second of all because he dated a girl who made her living with her breasts and stared at them less.
Jensen turns away and rubs at his shoulder.
“Sore?” Sandy asks.
“Yeah,” he says, turning back around and managing to meet her eyes this time. “I’ve been hitting the gym trying to bulk up so I don’t look like a midget next to your freakishly huge boyfriend.”
“You should ask Jared for a back rub,” she says, bright-eyed and smiling. “He’s good at it. It’s those huge hands, you know?”
Not for the first time, Jensen reflects that Sandy McCoy is a big ball of evil wrapped up in a cute little package. She knows exactly how to push buttons Jensen won’t even admit to having. Like when Jared mentioned how he hoped he could cut his hair for the summer and she said, “But Jare, it’s the perfect length to grab right now,” or when she was folding Jared’s jeans and cheerily announced, “I swear, that boy’s legs go on for miles.” Jensen can’t prove that Sandy knows how much time he spends thinking about Jared’s long legs, big hands, and grabbable hair, and Jen figures that his compulsion to stare at her boobs probably throws her off anyway, but still. Evil.
Jared wanders into the kitchen, rubbing his face with both hands and saying, “Shit man, why exactly did we get so drunk last night?”
“Because your teeny tiny girlfriend bet me she could drink me under the table, and I couldn’t let her challenge my manliness like that and get away with it,” Jensen replies, now unable to look at either of them, because Jared’s in nothing but boxers.
“So why did I get so drunk?” Jared says, filling a glass with tap water.
Sandy pipes in with, “You said even if I couldn’t take Jensen down, you certainly could.” And Jensen nearly chokes on his coffee with the mental image that conjures up.
“Ah. Right,” Jared downs the water. “So who won?”
“Yeah,” Sandy sighs. “We kind of forgot to keep track of that.”
“I kicked both your asses and you know it,” Jensen says. “Now which of you losers wants to buy me breakfast?” Because leaving the house means getting dressed, which means less inappropriate staring at his attractive friends who are fucking each other and not him.
They find a diner with free coffee refills and a breakfast menu composed mostly of grease. Sandy and Jared sit with their knees and shoulders touching. They smile at the same time even when they’re not looking at each other. Sandy bets Jared she can chug a glass of orange juice faster than him, and then swears she would have won if he hadn’t made her laugh and spray juice all over herself.
Jared grabs a napkin, says, “Here, let me help you clean up,” and promptly cops a feel.
Sandy smacks him and says, “Jesus. Why am I dating such a dumbass?”
Jensen wants to tell them both to stop being so goddamn cute, but can’t figure out a polite way to phrase it.
The next Friday, Jensen goes over to Jared’s under the pretense of watching a basketball game that neither of them cares about. The day’s shoot had been particularly shitty, the show hadn’t been picked up for a full season yet, and Jensen didn’t really want to sit at home alone wondering whether sports medicine might be a better choice for him after all.
The game’s a blow out and Jared gets restless, which means he starts acting like an over-sugared twelve-year-old.
“You ever been bungee jumping?” he asks out of the blue.
“Yup,” Jensen says, continuing to watch the TV and taking a sip of his beer. He’s found that the best course of action when Jared’s like this is to avoid eye contact as much as possible, since Jared’s usually spoiling for a wrestling match when he’s bored. Jensen’s had a little too much to drink to be sure he won’t, say, lick Jared’s neck during said wrestling match.
“How about sky diving?”
“Nope. Never been skydiving.”
“We should do that!”
“I’m thinking Eric might not agree to that.”
“Oh, come on,” Jared’s manhandling him now, big hands pushing and grabbing at his side. “You too chicken?”
Jensen rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up before I hit you over the head with this beer bottle.”
Jared gets up, grabs two more beers, sits down, and does not offer the second beer to Jensen. He chugs half of the first beer and says, “What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Probably having sex in the teachers’ lounge during prom,” Jensen responds. He smiles, thinking about Marie flipping up her peach-pink dress to reveal the frilliest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. She’d been a girl with a plan, and he’d seen no reason to turn her down.
“Didja get caught?” Jared asks.
“Um, no. Not by the teachers. I wasn’t exactly, strictly speaking, at the prom with the girl I had sex with.”
“So her date beat the hell out of you?”
Jensen laughs, wondering why the hell he’s telling Jared this story. Maybe because it just never occurs to him not to tell Jared everything that’s ever happened to him. “Wrong again. My date found us, and whacked me silly with her shoe.”
“Her shoe?”
“Yup. Then Marie told my date that’s what she got for refusing to put out, and all hell broke loose.” Thank god prom had been only three weeks before graduation.
Jared throws his head back and laughs, and Jensen thinks that’s almost worth the fact that by Monday morning the entire crew will know he got beat up by a girl. “You know, if your life were a porno, that little scene would’ve ended very differently.”
Jensen thinks that if his life were a porno, last Saturday night would have ended very differently too, and chuckles.
“You ever done that?” Jared asks, and Jensen wonders when the boy’s mind wandered off without him.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Had two girls. Without one of them hitting you. Unless you go for that kinky stuff, I guess.”
Jensen finishes off his beer and considers giving the answer he usually gives to the question: Yes, it was the hottest thing ever to happen to me as a Heterosexual Male. But hell, he’s already told Jared so many stories that no one else knows, what’s one more? “Yeah,” he says. “This girl I briefly dated and a friend of hers.” He smiles. “We were really, really drunk, and I ended up getting elbowed in the face. Kinda ruined the mood. So they, uh, they finished without me.”
Jared cracks up again and says, “Man, only you could screw up a threesome.”
“Yeah, probably,” Jensen agrees. He’s suddenly exhausted. Too much honesty, he thinks. “I’m gonna take off. Call me tomorrow if anything interesting is happening?”
“Yeah,” Jared agrees.
Jensen puts his shoes on and grabs his coat. He’s at the door when he hears Jared call, “Hey Jensen?”
“Yeah?” he replies, turning around.
“You should try it again sometime. Get it right.” Jared’s head is resting against the back of the couch, and Jensen can’t see his face to tell if it’s just general advice or a freakin’ invitation.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says as neutrally as possible, and leaves.
He dreams of them that night, Jared’s hands on his face, Sandy’s lips hot on the back of his neck. Then Sandy above him, riding him, her mouth red and wide, Jared’s hands on her breasts. Sandy throws her head back and Jared’s hands move to her hips, moving her up and down on Jensen’s cock as she shudders and sobs.
He wakes up sweating and gasping, jerks off alternately imagining Jared’s hand or Sandy’s mouth on him.
Two weeks later, they’re on a short break in LA when Jared calls him up and says Jensen should come by. Sandy answers the door with a pen stuck in her cleavage, and Jensen wonders why the universe hates him. He points mutely as he walks in and she says, “Yeah, Tom’s got a weird fascination with my boobs.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Jared says behind her. “They’re nice boobs. Aren’t they nice, Jensen?”
Sandy hits Jared before Jensen can figure out what to say to that. “Don’t be an ass!” she says. “Sorry Jensen, for some reason the fact that they’ve all seen my tits makes these morons think they’re are an appropriate topic of conversation.”
Jensen’s mouth starts moving without the aid of his brain. “I. What? Wait, when did everyone see your boobs?” He regains his equilibrium and adds, “And why wasn’t I invited?”
Sandy rolls her eyes and says, “It was a movie, and I was a moron and didn’t realize it would end up all over the internet. I also didn’t realize Jared’s friends are all huge pervs.” She yells the last two words over her shoulder, drawing laughs from the living room. She shrugs. “Whatever. I’d be more annoyed if they were my real boobs, but since they’re glued on anyway, I can’t get that worked up over it.”
“Oh.” Jensen thinks of telling her that Joanna’s tits were fake too and the first couple of times he touched them he was afraid he’d cause some sort of rupture, but decides that’s too much information for even the current conversation. Instead he says, “I brought beer,” and Sandy smiles and kisses him on the cheek.
He and Jared are used to eighteen hour days, and they outlast the rest of the guests, ending the night arguing football over Sandy’s sleeping form. Jared looks down at her with open affection and gently brushes the hair off of her face. Jensen follows the motion of Jared’s hand and feels something inside him twist a little. He looks up to see Jared watching him with the same warmth. Jensen wonders just how drunk Jared is. Jared reaches over and touches Jensen’s face, his thumb resting against the corner of Jensen’s mouth. “Hey,” Jared says softly. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Jen can’t open his mouth, knows he’d suck Jared’s finger into his mouth, and Sandy is right there, so he just nods.
“Okay,” Jared says. Keeping his eyes on Jensen, he leans down and kisses Sandy’s forehead, saying, “Wake up babe.”
She makes a little mewling noise and stretches, her sleep-hot body brushing Jensen’s side. She yawns widely, and licks her lips, pink tongue as slow and languid as the rest of her body. Jensen’s mind conjures up an image of Jared carrying sleepy Sandy to the bedroom, resting her small body on his chest and reaching under her clothes with the same hands that were just touching Jensen.
Jensen’s not even sure what he wants right now, but he knows he wants it badly.
Sandy kisses Jensen’s shoulder and says, “Stay for breakfast. We actually have food for once.” She stands, pulling on Jared’s arm. Jared grins and follows her.
Jensen lies down, tries not to think about the fact that the couch smells equally of aftershave and perfume. He hears Jared murmuring and Sandy giggling. He wonders what would happen if he got up and walked down the hall to their room, just stood in the doorway. He kind of wants to. He falls asleep.
The next month goes by in a blur of early mornings, late nights, wet outdoor shoots, and green screen work. They don’t have more than a day off at a time, and those days are mostly spent sleeping. Jensen thinks of talking to Jared, but isn’t sure what the hell he could say that wouldn’t come out entirely wrong.
They get two days off, and Jensen decides to head to LA to visit Chris and Steve, but his plans fall apart when a huge storm hits California and heads up the coast. He considers calling Jared, but thinks a weekend to himself might be nice instead. That plan is also shot to hell when Jared and Sandy show up at his doorstep with enough food for the weekend, a case of beer, and a handle of tequila.
“Yay for monsoons!” Jared declares, pouring shots. “Good thing Miss Sandy checked the weather channel and flew up a day early, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says with a small smile, carefully looking at the shot glasses and not Jared or Sandy.
They putter around the kitchen, making sandwiches, drinking, and talking. Jensen thinks they’re touching him more than usual, but he knows it’s just paranoia. They’re just being friendly, in their completely personal-space-ignoring way.
The rain starts as they’re doing the dishes. The power goes out two hours later and Jared lights the hurricane lamps that Sandy-the-weather-goddess had brought along. He and Jensen play cards while Sandy pulls out a large black book and a folder full of pictures and papers.
“What’s that?” Jensen asks.
“Scrapbook,” she replies. “I make theme pages.” She looks up and says, “Don’t laugh!”
“I wasn’t going to!” Jen says, holding up his hands.
“Jared laughs at me.”
“I do not!” Jared protests. Sandy gives him a skeptical look. “Okay, I may have questioned the need for pastel balloon stickers on the page for my birthday.” Sandy purses her lips. “And the sparkly baseball bats and gloves from when I threw out that first pitch, but I think it’s sweet. I do!”
Sandy rolls her eyes and looks at Jensen. “I like to have pictures, real pictures that I can hold. I always travel with a bunch of photos and the book I’m working on.”
“It’s a security blanket thing,” Jared says quietly. “And I would never laugh at you about it, babe.”
Sandy stands, walks over to Jared and kisses him lushly. Jensen wonders if it would be appropriate to just get up and leave, because he doesn’t think he can explain why he’s got a hard-on without getting punched by one or both of them.
Then, leaving her hands on Jared’s shoulders, Sandy leans over and presses her lips softly to Jensen’s.
He gapes, searches for words as she smiles widely, obviously expecting something from him. “Thanks?” he finally hazards.
She laughs, loud and full, like Jared, tilts her chin and says, “I promise: no elbows,” and kisses him again.
Jensen looks over at Jared, who smiles and says, “I swear it was her idea.”
Sandy nudges Jen with her nose and whispers, “He’s a liar, but he’s a great kisser.” She pushes Jensen’s head forward a little and Jared is there to meet him, all soft lips and rough fingertips.
They shuffle to the bedroom, Sandy and Jared with their arms wrapped around Jensen, like they’re afraid he’s going to try and get away. Jensen doesn’t want to get away, but he’s happy to have them pushing him along. He feels like his brain is two steps behind the action, and he’s waiting for things to start making sense so he can decide what to do.
Jared pulls a chair up next to the bed, and Sandy gently pushes him down into it. She cups his face with her small hands and says, “Hey? You can call time or stop or whatever whenever you want.” She strokes his cheek. “We just…we both really wanted to do this, and we thought maybe you did too. Just. Yeah.” She leans forward and kisses him, undoing his pants and stroking his cock gently as she presses her lips to his.
Then she’s stepping back, pulling her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her pants. Jared is already naked and waiting for her, back propped against the headboard. Jensen’s not sure how Jared can look even taller sitting down, but he somehow manages it. Sandy straddles Jared’s lap and they start kissing, slowly and carefully, and Jensen thinks maybe he’s not the only nervous one here.
The kissing goes on for a long time, Jared’s tongue slipping slowly between Sandy’s lips, Sandy’s hands roaming over Jared’s chest. Jensen’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t foreplay. They move together in slow motion for a long time, skin against skin, breath growing shallow.
“What do you want?” Jared whispers so softly Jensen’s not sure he’s meant to hear it.
“Fingers. Your hand. C’mon baby,” she murmurs back.
It’s porn, better than porn, because he can smell Sandy’s fruity shampoo and Jared’s sweat, see how she kisses his temple and gasps as he slides two fingers into her, hear her murmur, “Oh baby, just a little harder. There, yeah, okay.” They move like they’ve done this a thousand times before, like they want to touch each other forever, like Jensen’s not sitting three feet away from them wondering what Jared’s skin tastes like and how wet Sandy must be for him to be able to hear Jared’s fingers slipping in and out of her.
Jensen’s stunned and lust-dazed, wants badly to touch himself, but doesn’t want to do anything that might distract Jared and Sandy.
She’s rolling her hips, fucking his fingers in time to the rhythm of her gasps. He’s got his mouth on her breast, teeth catching and worrying her nipple as she moves. His tongue laps at her tender skin, and her cries rise in pitch as her body begins to shake. She comes with a choked sob as Jared runs his free hand over her belly.
Jared slips his fingers out of her and brings them to her lips. She shuts her eyes and sucks them into her mouth and Jensen has to close his eyes, because this is too intimate; he shouldn’t be seeing this.
“Hey,” he hears. “Hey,” and there’s a hand on his knee. He opens his eyes to see Sandy leaning over and smiling at him. “Are you okay?”
Jensen nods, because while okay maybe isn’t the word for it, he knows he needs to touch them them now. He takes Sandy’s hand and lets her slide his jeans down his legs, steps out of them and lifts his knees onto the bed, where Jared damply nuzzles his neck.
Sandy’s fingers caress his forearms and hands, drawing him forward and down. He finds himself between Jared’s outspread legs, Sandy dragging her lips over his. Jensen kisses her deeply, reaches forward to stroke at the slickness between her legs. She moans into his mouth, tongue licking hard against his lips.
Jensen hears a gasp to his left and looks up to see Jared, gorgeous long fingers wrapped around his full cock.
“God, Jared,” Sandy says. “There are two of us to help you with that. You couldn’t wait a second?”
She licks up Jensen’s neck, sucks lightly behind his ear and murmurs, “You want to?”
“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jensen replies.
When she kisses him again and says, “We’ll take turns?”, he thinks he might pass out.
Sandy laces a hand in the back of his hair and guides him forward, her cheek pressed to his. They settle on either side of Jared’s hips, Sandy laying her hand over Jared’s. She leans over, lapping at the underside of Jared’s cock. She smiles at Jensen and he takes the cue to lean over and swirl his tongue around the head. There’s a groan from Jared far above them, and when Sandy whispers, “C’mon,” Jensen’s more than happy to begin licking lavishly, his tongue colliding and tangling with Sandy’s as Jared’s moans continue, until he realizes Jared is moaning, “Please, please.”
Jared begging makes Jensen’s stomach jump, and he nudges Sandy with his shoulder, moving her aside. He sucks Jared down as far as he can take him, moves back up quickly, then sucks down hard again. Jared bucks his hips, and Jensen chokes a little, deciding that a cock down his throat is still way better than an elbow to the face. He feels Jared go still above him and pulls up to mouth the head as Jared spurts hot against the roof of Jensen's mouth.
Sandy’s there to meet Jensen when he pulls off, roughly pushing her tongue into his mouth, eagerly licking. “Your turn,” she says, pulling him down on top of her.
Jensen gets his hands on her breasts, kneading them and pinching her nipples, nearly coming when she shudders beneath him. He’s not going to last long, he knows it, so when she takes him in hand and guides his cock into her welcoming heat, he’s thankful that she stops moving then, gives him a chance to catch his breath.
He feels big hands on his hips. “Incredible, isn’t she?” Jared whispers in Jensen’s ear. “You’re a lucky man. I wouldn’t share a pussy like that with just anyone.”
Jensen bites his lip and thrusts harder, feeling Sandy’s hips rocking up to meet his.
Jared’s hands slide over Jensen’s ass, spreading him open. Jared’s tongue touches him and Jensen sees red behind his eyelids. He chokes on a sob, wet heat around his cock and against his asshole sending him crashing over the edge.
He’s cradled between Sandy and Jared when he catches his breath, and they’re kissing around his shoulders. “They’re predicting two more days of rain,” Sandy says, to him or Jared, he’s not sure. “Think we can fill up the time?”
“I think so, maybe,” Jared replies, and Jensen wonders if he’ll survive the weekend.