Fic: Curiosities (Jared/Jensen)

[bewaretheides15]

Fandom: J2
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Ratings: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 8,400
Warnings: mutant!AU (in no way related to This Hell We've Made), cat!Jensen (yes, you read that right), angst, schmoop, large amounts of oral kink, general perving on Jensen's kitty-ness - NOT BEASTIALITY, eveybody in this fic is at least mostly human.
Notes: I blame you all. And my brain. And you all. But especially gedry , for being my ever-fantastic enabler/cheerleader as well as ladytiferet and peepingdru for actively encouraging this madness. Also, ged and I have agreed that Jensen's kind of bobcat-esque, if you're looking for a mental reference. I have played very fast and loose with that idea, but I'm still sticking with the bobcat thing - look! (This is Jensen) (This is a bobcat) They're practically twins! Right down to the freckles! *hides face in shame* Also, ironically,  spn_hardcore is having a comment fic meme about animalistic behavior. If this kind of thing is your kind of thing, you should head over and check it out - prompt! fill! make me not alone in this insanity!
Summary - “You have a kitty-cat tongue?” comes out far too high-pitched and incredulous, but c’mon - Jensen has a kitty-cat tongue??

Now with yummy coverart by ladytiferet!(Check it out at the bottom of the fic and click here for the larger version!)

It’s no kind of secret that Jensen’s a Plus. When he was first cast as Dean, it made all of the trades - the first Plus to get a starring role on the network. Of course, there had been a lot of backlash from that too; more from the Plus side than from gene-uniformity activists. It was stupid, as far as Jared was concerned. Sure, he got their point - Jensen only got the part because he could pass; the chances that he’d have still been playing Jared’s big brother on a major network television show if he’d had scales or a prehensile tail were pretty small. Still, it was idiotic that Jensen was getting shit - from a group of people who should know better than anyone how hard it was to live with a genetic mutation - about how he chose to present himself in public when every actor in the business, Plus or not, was doing exactly the same thing.

Jared really hadn’t intended to get involved in the whole thing - he and Jensen hadn't known each other very long back then and he figured it wasn’t his place to jump in - but watching the fourth reporter in a row ask Jensen about “the Plus issue” at their very first junket, Jared just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d stepped in, talking all over Jensen’s pat, worn-thin response, with the full rundown of his own workout and diet regimen, the skincare, the haircare, the makeup artists, the waxing, the stylists, publicists, photo retouching and all the other shit he and every other non-Plus actor in the industry has to go through every damn day of their lives because if anyone out there is stupid enough to think that the people they see on TV and movie screens wake up in the morning looking like that, they’re out of their minds.

He’s pretty sure that was the day he and Jensen went from friendly co-stars to a level of best-friendship Jared is still constantly struggling to define three seasons later.

Jensen doesn’t have many people in his life. There are people, of course, but not ones that count, not ones that really make it past the layers and layers of façade that Jensen puts up - has to put up - to make it through the day. Jared can’t deny that he likes being one of the ones on the short list; that it makes him feel good when people comment on Jensen’s stand-offishness to know that when they get in the SUV to let Clif drive them home Jensen will be curled up in Jared’s personal space proving them all wrong behind the shield of midnight-tinted windows. He likes that he gets to be inside the bubble, that Jensen lets loose with him and gives into the obviously powerful urge he suppresses all the time to get up close and personal, to seek comfort in contact. Likes that he can tell when things are getting to be too much for Jensen on a hard day on set and he’ll need to sneak off during lunch break to let Jared scratch through his short hair and soothe away the stress. Likes that he’s allowed to.

It does make it harder though - makes a lot of things harder, in fact - to ignore that Jensen is possibly the single most attractive human being on the planet. A long time ago, barely halfway through the first season, Jared decided that he could never do anything about those feelings. Jensen comes with a veritable freight train of emotional baggage, and while Jared would - and does - happily take that on, being able to be there as someone Jensen can trust without reservation - in a lifetime full of guarding himself - is more important than the truly awesome sexual fulfillment that would almost certainly follow finally getting his hands on his best friend the way he really wants to.

This is a reality that Jared has accepted with difficulty - that as amazing as they would be together, he and Jensen are never going to happen anywhere but inside his own head. That’s what he thinks, genuinely, honestly believes, until the night he walks into the home they share and finds Jensen asleep on the couch.

It’s not the asleep on the couch part that stops him cold - he’s seen Jensen in every possible state of inebriation, including a couple that no one should ever, ever, be privy to which often includes sacking out on the couch - but the obvious changes.

They’re at the very end of summer hiatus, just over a week left until they start gearing up for season four, and Jared’s just finished filming some indie thing that his manager talked him into and, in retrospect, is probably never going to get distribution. Technically, he’s not supposed to be back for another few days, but they wrapped early and Jared was maybe a little more eager than strictly appropriate to see the guy he platonically lives with, so he hopped the red-eye to surprise his friend. This is the only excuse he can think of for having the opportunity to walk in on Jensen like this; although now that he has, he’s kind of hurt that he’s never been afforded the chance before.

Jensen has clearly passed out in the middle of a History channel marathon - because he’s a closet nerd - one arm tucked under his head as a pillow, legs bent up where Harley was probably taking up the other end of the couch a minute ago. He’s shirtless, a pair of loose sweat pants hanging around his hips, and maybe for somebody who wasn’t used to looking at him every day, his appearance wouldn't be quite so stunning.

For as long as they’ve known each other, Jensen has claimed that he just doesn’t grow body hair; nothing but a thin coat of silky, short fuzz covering his arms and legs, so blond it’s functionally invisible against his skin. Jared’s never actually been sure how that works since, by Jensen’s own admittance, his Plus-side leans toward the feline, but the fluffy thatches of hair standing out under his arm and arrowing down to his groin - cottony, creamy-tan and looking like nothing so much as the fur on a cat’s belly, despite the fact that even thinking that could probably get Jared sued for gene-ism - proves that to be a lie. Despite those light, fawny patches, the prickly little fuzz of it trailing around the curve of his ear and up to a loose, kittenish point at the top is more like sable, just enough darker than Jensen’s hair to stand out against his prickly buzz-cut. He’s grown his facial hair out a bit too, but no moreso than Jared had been planning on doing, giving his face a break from all of the shaving. Apparently, Jensen’s face isn’t the only thing that’s getting a break.

How long he’s been standing there staring, it’s hard to say, but evidently it was long enough to get the dogs fed up with waiting on a little attention of their own because out of nowhere Sadie lets loose with her, “hey!” bark and Jensen’s eyes fly open.

Since the pilot, they’ve had to use special contacts on Jensen - during the day to help keep his pupils as round-edged ovals instead of narrowing down to slits, and for night shoots so that his eyes don’t pick up the light and reflect it weirdly into the cameras. This sure as hell isn’t the first time Jared’s ever seen those bright green orbs glow eerily in the half-light, but it’s the first time it’s ever really struck him as haunting. Not scary, not startling, just haunting and maybe a little wild. Then again, that might have something to do with the panicked way they are widening as they take in Jared standing over him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jensen shouts after a couple of moments of leaden silence. He’s instantly in motion, rolling off of the couch and backing away like Jared’s some gun-toting nut who just broke in on him in the middle of the night instead of his best freaking friend.

“I live here,” is the best answer he’s got, because this is really a little much to process this fast. He’s still trying to reconcile Jensen in full-on Plus mode with the image of the man he knows. Weirdly, it’s the fact that Jensen didn’t tell him that he has a full-on Plus mode that sticks in his craw the most.

“Not for another four days you don’t!” Jensen hurls in return. He’s backed all the way up to the French doors leading out onto the back patio, pressing tight against them. The dogs are dancing between them uncertainly, looking from one to the other as they try to understand why their daddies are acting insane. Jared’s going to set aside some time a little later to wonder when he started of thinking of the pups as Jensen’s as well as his own. Not to mention the whole ‘daddies’ thing.

“We wrapped early, I wanted to surprise you.”

“Job well done!”

First off, Jared admits he knows entirely too much about Jensen. Secondly, he knows that tone, and that level of snark means that Jensen is right on the edge of a major freak out, not that he needed anything besides the way his friend keeps steadily edging away from him like Jared's got a bomb strapped to his chest to tell him that.

Which is why saying “Your ears are pointy,” is probably not going to be winning any awards for crisis management in the near future. Sometimes Jared’s mouth runs away with him.

“They’re tufts,” Jensen fires back and Jared tries hard to keep from busting out laughing, he really does. He fails rather spectacularly. It’s just - tufts? Really? Tufts!

He’s bent nearly double, laughing so hard the only audible sound coming from him is a high wheeze and the occasional choked out, “tufts!”. So yeah, hostage negotiator is officially out as a viable career alternative.

Fortunately, this seems to halt whatever monumental conniption Jensen was working up to, because instead of sprinting for his room, or his car or something equally stupid, he stomps over and shoves at Jared, toppling him backward onto the still-warm couch.

“Shut up, I didn’t make up the term,” he huffs, but huffy is still better than panicky, so Jared will take it.

“No, really,” he teases through another fit of giggles, “They’re adorable, I want to pet them.”

“Oh my god, I hate you. Dumbass.” But Jensen’s pushing him over and crawling up onto the couch beside him, tentatively brushing their shoulders together. Jared’s pretty sure that means something good.

***

It takes another hour and what’s left of a case of beer Jared finds in the fridge before Jensen is properly sprawled over him like usual, the two of them intermittently interjecting questions and answers and more questions at commercials. Jared’s not even sure what they’re watching, but he is sure that Jensen’s maybe not as chill about the whole Plus thing as he’s been letting on all this time.

He’s also sure that Jensen usually shaves his underarms every morning - apparently waxing those hurts like a bitch - and all of the hair around his cock - not thinking about it, notthinkingaboutit - just in case. He’s sure that the ears are pretty much impossible to shave, so Jensen very carefully uses a depilatory cream there, but the rest of that line about not growing body hair seems to have been legit, with both his arms and legs satiny smooth as always. He’s also sure what the little - heh - tufts on Jensen’s ears feel like - soft and light and very, very cat-like, just like they look - because after a few dozen assurances that, no, he really wasn’t weirded out about all of this, Jensen had let him touch them.

The most interesting part of it all is how Jensen’s all but bursting with information about it, filling Jared in on every little detail he could possibly want to know now that he’s asked. A part of him kind of feels like a douche for not asking before this, but Jensen’s always been so sensitive about it and the last thing Jared wanted was to make him uncomfortable or make it seem like the Plus thing is an issue for him when it’s really never even factored into the equation with them.

“Oh, and this,” Jensen says during the middle of a Magic-Chop infomercial. He lifts his head from where it’s been cradled against Jared’s collarbone and without warning licks across Jared’s lips. The touch is surprising, as much for the fact that it just happened as how it feels and it takes far, far too long for his brain to process what Jensen was actually trying to demonstrate.

“You have a kitty-cat tongue?” comes out far too high-pitched and incredulous, but c’mon - Jensen has a kitty-cat tongue??

A dark blonde eyebrow starts making the trek toward Jensen’s hairline. “I’m sorry, did you just say kitty-cat?”

“You remember that ‘I hate you’ thing? Right back at ya. But seriously…”

“Yes,” Jensen smiles indulgently, “my tongue has papillae. Not quite as many as an actual cat, but same concept.”

“Oh, well that’s…” Jared cannot, in fact, come up with anything resembling an ending for that sentence. Luckily he’s saved from that mental bear-trap by another thought. “I can’t believe none of the girls have ever mentioned it before.”

“Girls?”

“You know, from the show and stuff. You’ve done a whole bunch of sex scenes before. And your girlfriends. I mean, that seems like the kind of thing gossip rags would go nuts over.”

Jensen repositions himself a little, rolling so they’re slightly more belly to belly and - oh hell - his leg slots in between Jared’s. After several years of this kind of intimacy Jared’s had plenty of time to practice not getting painfully hard every time a part of Jensen gets within a foot of his crotch. That first year was a real challenge, but thanks to Jensen being really understanding - and also gullible, because that line Jared had fed him about this new sinus medication he was on making him really responsive was possibly the worst lie in recorded history - and more nights of blue balls than he had in his entire adolescence combined, he’s pretty good at staying soft whenever Jensen decides to flop all over him. It would really help if he didn’t put things right fucking there like he wants Jared to rub off on them, though.

“Professionalism, maybe you’ve heard of it?” his friend snarks, only to laugh it off with a shrug. “It’s just one of those things, y’know?”

“But, I mean, Danneel? I would have thought she’d- Not like- I mean, it was just messy and she was kinda-“

“A raging bitch? Yeah, I was there, thanks. She tries to downplay the fact that she dated a Plus at all and that would just draw attention to it. Also, I could always come out and mention what a big fan of it she was at the time.”

“What?” Shit. Why does his mouth have to go off saying things without his permission?

“There are some,” Jensen clears his throat, “practical advantages to having a little extra texture involved.”

“Oh.” Yes, oh. That’s an excellent place to leave that entire topic because he does not need any further information about his best friend’s prowess in oral sex, especially not when said friend is lying on his fucking cock. “Ow. Doesn’t that, like, chafe?”

God, he hates his mouth.

Jade-green eyes roll, pupils going red-yellow-orange as the dim recessed lights hit them at different angles. “Seriously, it’s not that rough.”

“It’s kinda rough, man,” Jared argues. He’s doing his level best not to obsess over that blink of a second of damp, gritty heat rasping across his lips - and doing a really shitty job of it - but then there it is again, up the column of his throat this time. His dick jerks hard enough to jolt a grunt out of him, which he tries to cover with a shocked, “Ah!”

Evidently that wasn’t quite as effective as he’d been hoping. The fact that Jensen’s got his thigh all snug and friendly where Jared’s rapidly thickening up between his legs might be a contributing factor.

“Oh really?” Jensen smirks, but his teasing, I-will-totally-give-you-hell-about-this swagger’s a little off, voice a little breathless. Then - god-fucking-damn him - he’s doing it again, a long, hot pull of his tongue along the curve of Jared’s jaw, a couple of quick laps over his earlobe for a killing blow. If there was any chance at all that Jensen had doubts about whether Jared was hard before, there’s no way he’s got them now.

“Jensen, knock it off,” he warns, going for serious and petering off somewhere around shaky.

“Why? Chafing?” Jensen laughs softly, but he doesn’t sound any better off than Jared. His incisors pinch a quick, playful bite to the hinge of Jared’s jaw and then that fucking tongue of his is sweeping back behind Jared’s ear. Holy fuck, he was never actually aware of how sensitive that spot is before but now that Jensen’s licking over it like wet sandpaper and velvet he really can’t stop being aware of it.

“I’m serious, Jen,” he manages - barely - to grind out through his clenched jaw. Whatever fucked up kind of joke or payback or who knows what that Jensen thinks he’s pulling right now, it’s really, really not funny. Jared might actually cry. There should be laws against teasing a guy like this.

For all of half a second, Jensen actually holds off, braced up on his arms so he’s hovering an inch shy of pressing into Jared, hip to shoulder, in one long line. Hot breath ghosts against Jared’s pulse-point, sending little shudders rippling out over his skin like raindrops on the surface of a pond.

“Who says I’m not?” he whispers back like a challenge. For some small mercy, he’s leaving his tongue out of it this time when he drags him mouth down a slow path to Jared’s, stopping just short of the mark. The soft give of his lips is still enough to light a fire under the skin. “It’s ok if you’re into it. A lot of people get off on Pluses, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s… like being into Asian chicks or something. No reason not to take advantage of it when you’ve got one right here.”

There’s every chance Jensen was going to keep up that filthy purr of a monologue, but Jared cuts it short when he throws his weight and heaves Jensen out of his lap and right off the couch. His roommate stares up from the floor incredulously for the second and a half that it takes for Jared to crawl right down there with him, a reverse of their position a second ago with his thighs splayed wide around Jensen’s hips.

“Don’t you dare say that!” Jared’s not expecting to spit it out like the accusation it is, any more than he’s expecting to find himself hanging on to Jensen’s shoulders like he’s about to shake some sense into him, but there it is, and right now he’s too fucking pissed to even feel bad about it.

“Don’t you fucking dare sit there and rationalize to me that it’s ok to fuck you because you’re a Plus, like that’s all you are to me. Like it’s ok if I just use you for some weird fetish I’ve got. Do you really think that little of me that you think I’d be ok with that?”

“But with… the tongue and you…”

Quick as that, the anger drains out of him, rushes away like runoff down the drain only to be replaced by a lukewarm ache. He can see it in Jensen’s eyes, the bald-faced confusion because yes, he really honestly believed that’s what did it for Jared instead of just some sudden, unexpected sensation that had slipped past his carefully constructed walls. Because maybe Jared wouldn’t be the first person to ever treat him like that.

He sighs the rest of the tension out of his body with, “Forget it, man. Just forget it. I need some fucking sleep. Losing my damn mind.”

He’s halfway to standing before Jensen gets a hand on him, but when he does he goes for broke, tangling one up in his t-shirt and using the other to keep him in place with the waistband of his jeans as a handle.

“Wait! No! You- what the hell?”

Looking down at Jensen looking up at him shouldn't be as difficult as it is, but a plea is sitting right there on the surface of the polished-metal sheen reflecting out from his eyes and for all of his numerous talents, Jared's never been very good at not crumbling before the force of whatever Jensen asks of him. But this time it's asking too much.

“Look, Jen. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had - and please don’t tell Chad that because then he’ll want to fight you or something - so, it’s just… If that was ever going to happen, it wouldn’t be because of all this," he makes a non-descript gesture at his friend that's meant to take in the eyes and the ears and tongue and just all of it, "Yeah, that’s cool and some of it’s… kind of hot, but it’s just fringe benefits. You’re the main attraction.”

He doesn't have to pull very hard to disentangle Jensen's fingers from his clothes, and maybe there's a little part of him that dies from the lack of resistance - of course Jensen didn't really want it - but he'll deal with that later, once he's safely in his room and away from the dumbfounded surprise on his best friend's face. Once he can remember how to make his heart beat without hurting.

***

Jared’s exhausted. Weeks of his crazy filming schedule topped off with a five hour plane ride in the middle of the night, all before he got home and… yeah. His mind won’t shut up. As badly as he wants to turn it off and hide under the blankets for the next couple of days - years - and pretend this clusterfuck of a night was all a dream, he just keeps thinking in circles.

What the hell was that? Does it mean that Jensen’s into guys? That there's even a sliver of a chance that Jensen’s into him? Was it just some messed up thing he did to try and distract Jared from all of his Plusness? Or did he really believe that’s how Jared would want things and was just trying to do whatever it took to hold onto Jared as a friend? Too many question marks, not enough periods, and Jared’s not any closer to making sense of a single one of them.

If he was a betting man, his money wouldn’t have been on getting a wink of sleep, which is what makes it even more shocking when he jolts awake in the dark to find two bright points of yellow-green staring back at him from the end of the bed.

“Jesus fucking Christ," ends up as more of a yell, his pulse jump-starting into a marathon pace, "trying to give me a heart attack?”

The twin lights shift low, wink out, come back at an angle like Jensen’s got his head ducked.

“Sorry.” His voice is quiet, barely more than a husky-thick breath. Jared got himself past the point that just hearing Jensen’s voice made his dick take an interest years ago, but apparently his downstairs brain feels like talking a stroll down memory lane. Despite how it sounds - how it could sound if Jared had a one track mind, which he doesn’t - that’s not the voice Jensen uses when he plays at being sexy - not that he needs to play at it. That’s hurt mixed in there, and Jared aches in sympathy.

He reaches out before he even thinks twice about it, “Hey. What’s wrong?” falling over his lips before his hand even finds the heat of Jensen’s arm. Not for the first time he wonders how Jensen sees this - if he sees this - with his fancy, mirrored eyes.

His own ordinary hazel ones must be adjusting because when he gives a little tug and feels Jensen go with it, he can make out a slightly lighter splotch in the dark attached to those burnished gold circles. It’s still not enough to make out whatever expression might be flickering across Jensen’s face, but at least it’s a bit less like groping blind.

Ok, add groping to the list of shit he doesn’t need to be thinking about, especially after tonight. Especially with Jensen in his bed.

Jensen makes it about halfway up the mattress before he stalls out, the bed dipping slightly by Jared’s hip from what he can only guess is Jensen’s hand by the vague shape, slowly resolving as he gets more and more accustomed to the dark.

“So,” his friend starts, stops, mouth making a desert-dry click through the silence before he continues shakily, “you know how sometimes you’re having a conversation and it gets all fucked up and then like two hours later it finally hits you what you should have said?”

Something in Jared’s chest seizes up as he’s hit all of a sudden with how badly he just wants to stop being here - just be anywhere else right this second because he doesn’t want to hear whatever is about to come out of Jensen’s mouth almost as much as he is dying for the words. He wants to say ‘stop’ or ‘wait’ or ‘it’s okay’ or hell, just ‘let me get the light’ so he can at least see it when his world falls apart all around him because things are going to be uncomfortable between them now. But he doesn’t because he can’t. The one and only thing he can say, like he’s dancing on marionette strings, acting out someone else's script, is “What should you have said?”
And that’s when Jensen kisses him.

It’s nothing and everything like he would have expected; warm and sweet and so tentative, like a first kiss - not just their first kiss, but a very-first kiss, childish and fumbling even though he knows, has seen, Jensen kiss plenty of girls before now with an impressive-looking level of expertise - with this desperate urgency flowing just underneath, punctuated by the frantic huff-huff-huff-huff-huff against his cheek of the air machine-gunning in and out of Jensen’s nose.

Again he’s moving without thinking, hand coming up to rest on Jensen’s bare chest to try and calm him down. Jensen takes it wrong though, must be thinking Jared’s pushing him away - again - and jerks back so hard that Jared has to clutch at him to keep him from bolting.

Jared wouldn’t really call himself a player, but he’s no virgin either. He’s seen eyes gone over black with lust, pupils pulled all the way out, so wide it seems impossible. He’s never seen anything like how Jensen’s look now. They’re still goldy-green where whatever tiny bit of predawn light there is filtering in under the blackout curtains is hanging on them, but that’s all pupil. If there’s even a lick of the true green of Jensen’s eyes clinging night-grey around the edges before the charcoal-blue of the whites, Jared can’t figure out where it’s hiding.

“I’m going to assume you know that wasn’t actually a word,” is what he ends up babbling mindlessly. And seriously? This would all probably go easier if Jared was just struck mute right about now. Time to look into that brain-mouth filter thing.

Jensen seems to be dealing with the same issue, though, but instead of spouting off totally inane shit, his mouth seems to be defaulting to kissing Jared again. It’s actually a much better way of coping. Too bad he can’t get his own lips with the program because they’re still stuck on ‘why?’.

He manages to slur, “Jensen,” around the quick, soft, endless pecks that his best friend is laying all over his mouth. There’s not nearly enough sex to each coaxing touch for Jared to be as ragingly hard for it as he is.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispers against him, but if it’s about the kissing then he must not be too damn sorry because he’s not even approximating a halt. “I’m so sorry. I know you-“ is as much as he gets out between one press of his lips and the next. “You would never-“ he pants, hot, wet, tempting against Jared’s mouth, “use me like that. That’s why-“ Kiss, kiss, kiss and Jared’s just sitting here, slack jawed, like this whole concept is totally alien to him. “You’ve always-“ kiss, “You’d never-“ kiss, “The only one, Jay. Always. Please, please kiss me. Just this once, just let me have this once and I swear I’ll never ask you for it again. We can just pretend like the whole thing never happened but just... please.”
He sounds like he’s asking for permission to take his next breath, like this will save him from the firing squad and it makes Jared blood sting in his veins. So much so that his damn mouth finally makes itself good for something and crashes against Jensen’s, messing up all of the sweet, semi-chaste whateverthefuck he had going by licking inside almost instantly the feel the soft roughness of Jensen’s tongue.

Jensen moans into his mouth, so loud after all of the harsh panting that it’s almost startling. He’s climbing into Jared’s lap just that fast, clumsy and messy, knees banging into hips and elbows all over the place when he won’t detach his lips from Jared’s Not that Jared himself is even in the same hemisphere as minding because ohmygod Jensen feels so good. So warm and smooth under his hands and so-

So-

Like a meteor crashing out of orbit and grinding him into the dirt, it hits him that Jensen is naked. Totally, bare-assed, miles and miles of hot, sweet, freckled skin naked. On Jared’s lap. And here he thought he couldn’t get any harder.

His fingers, seemingly of their own free will, find the fluffy patch of hair - fur? - surrounding the rigid length of Jensen’s cock. Just that feathering touch is enough to get Jensen clinging to him hard enough he's reasonably sure one of them's going to break something any second now and he can't even bring himself to care. The shaft is so thick and hot while the fluff around it is warm and soft, dissolving around the edges into the hard muscle of Jensen’s hips and abs and thighs. The feel of it all makes Jared's mouth flood wet and Jensen moans for that too, sucks like he's going to sand the tastebuds right off of Jared's tongue.

“Jensen,” he says again, because apparently he hasn’t hit his quota for the night, and then, “Wait. Wait.” If it were possible for his balls to draw up into his body and eat him alive out of spite, it would be happening right now.

His roommate seems to share that sentiment since the best he mewls out is, “No. Nuh-uh. Not yet.” Then he goes right back to trying to maul Jared’s mouth. So much for just this once, huh?

“I don’t understand,” gets kind of smushed by Jensen’s lips, though no worse than, “What’s this about?

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up?” Jensen growls at him, pawing roughly at Jared’s chest. And wow. That- that should not have been as hot as it was.

“Possibly,” he laughs weakly, “When I’m asleep.”

A hard, slow breath heaves out of Jensen, blowing a stray strand of hair off of Jared’s forehead. His grip on Jared’s shoulders eases and his whole body seems to go just ever so slightly looser. “I’d say we can pick out curtains together but I actually like the curtains we already have. I don't... trust anybody the way I do you. I don't care about anybody the way I do you. And I'm sorry about what I said on the couch but it was the first time you've ever really... I couldn't not try. Fuck, Jare, if I live any more up in your space we’re going to chemically fuse, so whatever you’re asking for, whatever you want from me, the answer’s yes. I’ll take anything I can get. Happy now?”

There's only one honest answer to go along with the slightly melted feeling of his insides. “Deliriously.”

“Awesome," Jensen breath hitches in the middle of it as if his throat just closed up, but Jared can hear him smiling, "Now will you please shut up and let me get on your dick, because I’ve been thinking about it forever.”

This should, perhaps, be the moment where they have a heartfelt discussion about the fact that Jensen is, apparently, interested in men - Jared specifically. Evidently they're just skipping that part though because all Jared can manage to eke out is "Jesus," before he's pulling Jensen against him so tight it almost hurts and gets his tongue back inside that sweet heat.

Jensen’s cock gets trapped between their bodies, slotted up against Jared’s and it’s sort of impossibly perfect. Or would be, if not for the boxers Jared had been sleeping in but Jensen’s way ahead of him on that one, already tugging and tearing with a low growl of, “Off!”

Ok, that voice has to be some kind of illegal. Fucking hell.

Hitching his hips up as best he can doesn’t do much for the effort of getting undressed since it just grinds he and Jensen together tighter, hard friction zipping straight up his spine like a lit fuse. On top of him Jensen sort of croons, a soft sound almost like pain but Jared’s pretty sure isn’t even close to it. It would help if he could motherfucking see!

His hand smacks into the lamp twice, almost sending it reeling off the nightstand before he finally manages to get it turned on. The light flares, sight-stealing for a second, and Jensen flinches hard, legs contracting on either side of Jared’s hips. Jared hadn’t exactly been breathing free and easy before now but, holy fuck, seeing Jensen like this…

He looks completely wild, unearthly; chest flushed and heaving, hair sticking out in all different directions, getting mixed up with the tufts of his ears. His eyes, when he opens them again haltingly against the light, are a wide field of green around a tiny cut of black, sharp contrast to the bruised red of his lips. Then, of course there’s his body, bare and perfect and Jared’s imagined this entirely too many times but the idea is nothing to the reality of actually seeing Jensen perched on top of him, length hard and starkly blood-dark against the creamy thatch of hair surrounding it, wet at the tip where he’s leaking onto Jared’s boxers and - yeah, those fuckers need to come off right the hell now.

There’s a sound that might well be a seam ripping and he comes pretty close to dislodging Jensen as he bucks and squirms his way out of the offending fabric, kicking the covers off too as he goes so he can at long last get the two of them pressed together with nothing in the way.
Skin on skin is significantly more intense than he would have guessed, Jensen fever-hot against him, making him hiss with pleasure. His friend just shivers, eyes hidden behind the thick fall of his lashes until Jared just can’t take it anymore; has to do more than look and feel - has to act.

“Beautiful,” he bites the word into the tempting jut of Jensen’s collarbone, “So fucking beautiful, not even fair.” Jensen makes another one of those noises that Jared doesn’t really have a word for and dips his head to nuzzle against Jared’s temple.

“You really,” it would probably help with the conversation-having if they would quit churning their hips together, making their dicks rub through the tacky mess of mixed precome, but Jared seriously doesn’t see that happening any time soon. Jensen tries again. “You really don’t mind it?”

“God, you’re blind. So goddamn gorgeous and you don’t even see it. Just sucks that you have to hide it for the show. Fangirls would lose their shit if they could see you like this. But I’m glad- hnne - glad it’s just me. Just me that gets to see how you really are. Wish you’d let me see it before.”

Jensen thrashes like a worm on a hook, completely at odd with the way he holds onto Jared tighter. “Oh fuck. I wanna- Jared, let me.”

“Whatever you want,” he promises, grinding up against Jensen. He doesn't realize how much he means it until the words are already out of his mouth.

“Wanna make you feel good," Jensen groans, helpless, "Wanna suck you.”

Jared's about a millisecond away from swallowing his own tongue, 'wanna suck you' playing over and over in his head on endless repeat, but he still succeeds in coughing out a teasing, “Well hell, twist my arm why don’t ya?”

Jensen’s voice just kind of rumbles against his lips for one last kiss, making them tickle while the rest of his body flashes so red hot he’s probably got blisters on the underside of his skin. Then Jensen’s sliding away, slipping down Jared’s body, eyes never wavering from Jared’s own. He’s going to fucking come before Jensen ever gets it in his mouth at this rate.

And damn but he takes his sweet time about it too, which is really only decreasing the odds of the fun, sucking parts ever actually taking place and Jared can’t quite bring himself to mind. Instead, Jensen’s busy nosing at Jared’s belly button and lower, a couple of quick, rough-soft laps over the fine trail of hair that Jared suddenly finds himself incredibly self-conscious about because it’s all wiry and harsh and not nearly as nice as Jensen’s is. Jensen doesn’t seem bothered though; he rubs his cheek against it and just sort of breathes - because it’s his personal goal in life to make Jared go batshit insane - before he presses a long, slow lick to the base of Jared’s dick.

Apparently he likes the scenery because that’s where he stays, the same pace of lingering, torturous licks all around the root like Jared’s an ice cream cone he’s got to keep from dripping. And there is definitely dripping occurring, but Jensen would be a lot more effective in dealing with it if he concentrated his efforts a few inches north. Jared’s going to point that out, too, just as soon as he’s done moaning and twitching uncontrollably. It’s a hard job, but somebody’s got to do it.

The whole ring of flesh at the base is starting to get overheated and achy, the constant coarse drag of Jensen’s tongue all mixed up with the comforting wet heat as he lets the soft underside soothe away the slight burn. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does, just amping up the steady thrum of pressure building on the inside, waiting until it can spill out. His fingers - really, they’re operating totally on autopilot tonight - find their way into Jensen’s hair, slicking through it, every now and then getting caught up winding and flicking the alert little points at the tips of Jensen’s ears. Then the touch of Jensen’s mouth is moving lower and while it’s not exactly what he’d expected, Jensen is now making good on the promise of sucking.

The velvety warmth is the first thing he feels as Jensen alternates between sliding one of his balls into his mouth and then the other, nothing but a gentle suckle that gets the nerve endings all switched on. His tongue is back in play after that and Jared’s this close to seriously pissed that the source of all joy in the universe has been hiding inside of Jensen’s mouth all this time and he never even knew it.

It takes Jared a handful of second too long to figure out what’s happening next with so much of his brain power devoted directly processing sensation - not to mention the truly spank-worthy visual of Jensen staring up at his heatedly over the length of Jared’s body, lips glossy with spit and stretched wide around his flesh - but when he gets it, he gets it with every last particle of his being. See, it starts as a low-pitched tremble, so much so that Jared doesn’t even really pick up the sound really, just the shaky feeling all around him like his skin is carbonated. Then steadily it grows stronger and stronger until his nerves are jittering with it and- Oh sweet shiny Moses. Yes and please and please, yes and yes, please. Jensen is goddamn purring around his balls. Jared’s pretty sure his head exploded like five minutes ago and somehow he just didn’t notice. God.

Since he was fourteen years old and finally managed to get some vague semblance of control over the raging slut hanging between his thighs, Jared has not once come without something wrapped around his cock; a hand or a mouth or an ass or - that one time Jared will truly never forgive Chad for - a ziplock baggie full of Jell-o.

Until today.

He’s not sure it’s so much his vision whiting out is that his brain’s not paying enough attention to keep up the connection with his eyes, but either way he goes flat-out, stone blind as a lightning strike fires through his veins and erupts out of him in thick waves that leave him choking on air and meaningless vowel sounds.

The best he can do after is to try and remind his lungs how to suck in oxygen and what to do with it once it’s there, but Jensen - thank God - can be a proactive kind of guy when he’s motivated, and straddling Jared’s shoulders, fisting his dick not an inch from Jared’s face, he looks pretty fucking motivated.

Jared’s efforts as he leans in a bit and feebly suckles at the bitter-wet head most likely qualify as one of the world's ten worst blow jobs - it's been a while since he's practiced this and that was before Jensen broke his ability to string together coherent thoughts. Still, it seems to do the trick. Jensen pumps forward like he’s got no control over the matter, the tip tapping the back of Jared’s throat hard enough he’d probably have gagged if his body wasn’t three steps behind everything that’s going on. It only takes another couple of spit-sloppy thrusts before Jensen loses it too, letting Jared swallow what he can while he fucks the rest messily down his chin.

“That was…” Jared chokes out hoarsely after a minute as Jensen crash lands off to the side.

“Uh huh.”

“You can purr.”

He’s fairly certain that Jensen’s blushing on his next, “Uh huh,” but it’s hard to tell with the glow of orgasm still pinking his skin.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I kinda try to avoid doing it,” Jensen admits, ducking his head, “I don’t really even think about it much anymore.”

“Oh.” Jared’s suddenly struck with wondering what that’s supposed to mean. None of the answers that he can think of make him feel any better about the gobs of come cooling on his belly, sticky white evidence of how hard he just got off on it. “Does it hurt?”

“No, just, you know,” Jensen shrugs a little sheepishly, “freaks people out.”

“Oh,” Jared repeats, relieved, “Well they’re stupid. That was awesome. In case you couldn’t tell.”

Jensen smiles and this time that color darkening his cheeks is definitely a blush. “Thanks.”

He looks bizarrely shy for a guy who was just trying to shove his dick down Jared’s throat, and it’s a weird kind of nostalgia - a look he hasn’t seen on Jensen since those first tentative weeks of filming before they had worked out just how easy it would be for them to slot right into each other’s lives. Before Jensen opened up to him.

“How long is forever?” is, for once tonight, exactly what Jared means to ask, if not exactly the way he meant to ask it. Obviously Jensen isn’t following, though, from the way he’s just sort of staring and- well, no, really just staring.

“You said you’d been wanting to get on my dick forever,” he explains, “How long is forever?”

Now Jensen gets it and his blush is only getting darker as he half-tries to hide his face in Jared’s spare pillow.

“Um…” stiltedly, he answers, “You remember that junket in the first season when you bitched out that reporter?”

“I didn’t bitch her out.”

“Did,” Jensen glares back. The force of it doesn't match up with the way he’s picking nervously at the seam of Jared’s pillowcase at all. “And since then.”

“Oh.” He seems to be saying that a lot. Maybe Jensen really did break him. “Should have said something, we could have been doing this forever.”

Green eyes snap up to meet him, a little flash of luminous gold inside as they catch the lamp-light, glowing the rest of the time with something much softer that this is all still too new for Jared to be ready to put a name on. He can take a guess though, and just thinking it in the privacy of his own mind blooms a lazy warmth inside of him.

Jensen leans in across the tiny bit of distance between them, smile still playing on his lips, but it’s not so much shy now as coy. And maybe just a little bit predatory.

“You know, technically speaking, I still haven’t gotten on your dick.” It’s low and throaty and by-passes all of the careful conditioning Jared’s done over the years to make sure his cock doesn’t twitch whenever Jensen talks. That might have something to do with the way Jensen’s tongue snakes out and traces a rough-hot line along the perimeter of Jared’s bottom lip too.

“Not my fault,” his argument sounds watery, honestly more interested in getting another up-close and personal feel of the inside of Jensen’s mouth, “You purred. ‘S like cheating”

“Gonna have to work on your stamina, young’un.”

Under any other circumstance, Jared would have something snappy to say about Jensen’s age too, but his co-star is a big cheating cheater and picks that moment to lick painfully slow over the thin sheen of come Jared can feel drying tightly on his chin before pushing up into his mouth to share the sharp musk.

Anything else there may have been to say gets kind of lost for a while as Jared settles in to really enjoy enough supple, languid kisses to play havoc with the majority of his nervous system.

“You’ve got kind of an oral fixation there, Jen,” he says after they - barely - break apart, however many minutes later.

Jensen smirks back, “You can’t leave me ears alone. You’ve lost the right to judge.” Sure enough, when Jared looks up, it’s to find his fingertips idly toying with the tuft of Jensen’s left ear.

Slightly embarrassed, he laughs and takes the hand away to scratch at a suddenly appearing itch on his neck.

“They’re very pretty ears,” he points out in his own defense, “You’re a very pretty kitty.”

Jensen’s expression flattens at the joke. “I swear to God, I will bite your dick.”

“No you won’t,” Jared beams, relishing the return of the upper hand, “you like it too much.”

“Fine. I’ll bite…” Jensen stops, face turning thoughtful, “I’ll figure out something of yours I don’t like and I’ll bite it. Really hard. You’ll cry like a small child.”

Jared heaves a put-upon sigh. The way he can’t stop grinning like a loon through it might take something away from it. “Ok, ok. I promise not to call you pretty kitty.”

“Or anything else cat-related.”

Jared mock-pouts, “You’re taking all the fun out of this.”

He genuinely would have guessed that Jensen would go for the kiss, what with his lips sticking out like an invitation and all, so it shocks the hell out of him when instead, Jensen slinks down his body and laps a hot stripe up the center of his mostly-soft length. Mostly-soft turns into semi-hard fast enough to draw a pained groan out of him. That tongue. That motherfucking tongue is going to make him write odes or sonnets or at least a really dirty limerick.

“How’s that for fun?” Jensen flutters his eyelashes. Self-satisfied prick.

“That’s-“ and of course Jensen licks him again then, a hard flick to the bundle of nerves just under the head. Jared hisses in a breath and does his best not to give Jensen a concussion when his hips buck up seeking more. “…increasingly fun.”

“Thought so,” Jensen hums smugly, lips pressed softly against the head, throat just touching the shaft so that when that hum turns into a purr Jared feels it all the way to his marrow. “If you think that felt good on your balls…” Jensen grants him a grin that’s nothing but a wicked promise before he’s opening his mouth and-

“Oh my god.” Jared’s head falls back, eyes slamming shut for a moment to cope with the tidal wave of pleasure. It's entirely possible that having sex with Jensen is going to be the death of him. He looks down the line of his body to see Jensen staring up at him, lust-blown eyes hot enough it wouldn't shock Jared to find out the guy has laser-vision too. He bobs his head, slow and deliberate, the spine-tingling vibration of his purr growing more insistent for a moment before he slide Jared into his throat and blocks the airway, pure feral pleasure written in every line of his face as he does.

Jared loses a pitiful wail, punched right out of him because there's literally no more room inside of him with all of his senses being consumed by Jensen. Yes, death by sexual satisfaction is definite possibility here, Jared thinks. But what a way to go.



Now with sequel: Animal Instincts