Fic: Method [with My Madness] (Jared/Jensen)
Fandom: J2
Pairing: (Jared)/Jensen
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 2,200
Warnings: College!AU, masturbation, toys, PWP
Notes: Prequel to Developments - because i'd hate for ikemiker to go through any more DTs ;)
Summary - Facebook. Three and a half years after he first set eyes on Jared Padalecki and felt some integral part of his brain melt, Jensen finds out that Jared is into guys. Through Facebook.
Facebook. Three and a half years after he first set eyes on Jared Padalecki and felt some integral part of his brain melt, Jensen finds out that Jared is into guys. Through Facebook. What kind of shit is that?
Jensen flops back on his bed, shopping bags crinkling loudly as their bulk hits the eighteen inches of space between the foot of Jensen’s bed and the wall - yes, Jensen’s measured, just to prove that his bedroom is, in fact, smaller than his mother’s closet back home. A whole new wardrobe, a whole new 'look' all so that he can maybe at long last accomplish the one thing he always wanted and never managed to in high school - getting Jared to notice his existence.
Which would all be well and good if they had, you know, a plan or something but so far the best Danni's come up with is 'look hot'. Well, alright, technically she had also come up with 'show up at his house naked' but since Jensen happens to know Jared's staying with his parents for the summer - once getting with him had become a vaguely reasonable possibility, Facebook stalking was officially allowed: College Rule #27 - and he still has those few pesky, clinging vestiges of dignity, he'd nixed that idea right off the bat. Getting rejected, face-to-face, naked, might actually be the lowest low ever lowed.
Jensen's beginning to have some doubts about his roommate's prowess as a gay matchmaker.
His hands goes to slick back through his hair, immediately feeling bald on top of everything else. It’s been three days since Danneel convinced him to get it cut - “You can’t have the same haircut as the guy you’re trying to fuck, that’s just too much hair in one couple” - and it still feels strange. The contacts have been around for most of the semester so he’s mostly used to walking around without his glasses, but now his face feels really naked. Add to that the new shirts Danni badgered him into getting, one of which is currently vacuum-sealed to his torso, and Jensen feels downright indecent. Of course, going by some of the stares he was getting on the way out of the mall, he’s not the only one who thinks so.
Jensen had been doing so well - so damn well - in avoiding his unfortunate… fixation with Jared. In high school it was alright; they were stuck in the same building all the time so it was hardly Jensen’s fault that he always found himself looking at Jared all the damn time and seeing as he had no real viable romantic options so it was perfectly reasonable to have a humiliatingly cliché crush on the hot straight boy.
Jared was like the high school equivalent of the mythical uniform - he could hang out with anyone, was cool with everybody without being a total poser. He was gorgeous and athletic but still completely capable of tripping over his own shoelaces and laughing at his own clumsy ass. He could talk all kind of trash about football and Halo or whatever with the guys and still watch Project Runway with his little sister and make baby noises over any and every small animal he saw, be it in real life, on a compute screen, or that puppy poster Ms. Hollond had hanging up in her classroom. Jensen had actually once seen him run in front of a car to save a kitten. Seriously, that shit happened.
So yeah, not Jensen’s fault that his naturally surging teenage hormones had focused on Jared - entirely excusable. Seeing as half the people in their graduating class ended up at the same college, made the fact that Jensen also went to the same school as Jared un-disturbing and when he subsequently avoided all contact or mention of Jared or the people he used to hang out with, everything was fine. Up until the point where apparently Jared came out some time after they graduated and Jensen totally fucking missed it for a fucking year!
That whole idea makes him a little bit insane because it means that the odds are really good that while Jensen was wasting his time dating losers he wasn’t all that interested in, Jared was probably out there getting introduced to gay sex by dicks that are not attached to Jensen. Just thinking about Jared down on his knees for somebody else, eyes watering as he struggles through giving his first blow job, sloppy and inexperienced, lips glossy with spit, stretched wide around the thick push of a -
Damnit, now Jensen’s hard. Frustrated and hard.
It’s been a long time since Jensen actively allowed himself to think about Jared while getting off. Excluding drunk-jacking, because that doesn’t count. And maybe that one really tall guy he went out with a couple of times. But still, sober and alone, he hasn’t let Jared feature into any of his get-there material because when you have options with guys who are legitimately interested in fucking you, it’s beyond pathetic to still be focusing on your straight high school crush.
Now, though, Jared’s not straight anymore, which means that if Jensen, say, imagines running into him at that club downtown with all the pretty-boy cage dancers, it’s not so far-fetched. Nor is it completely outside of the realm of possibility to envision Jared’s eyes sweeping down Jensen’s body - he’d wear those kinda slutty black jeans Danni talked him into that show off his ass - and maybe a drink or two in, backing him up into one of those conveniently dark, secluded corners, his gigantic, sexy hands running over Jensen’s chest, his thighs, down to palm the bulge of his dick.
Jensen groans quietly at the pressure of his own hands mirroring his mental play-by-play of Jared’s. He’s never been quite so grateful for that storyboarding project they had to do in his directing class. His fingers massage at the full swell of his balls under tight denim, heel of his palm rubbing up and down the shaft in small strokes. It feels so good, and with Jared’s even bigger, stronger hands it would be even better. The thick heat of his cock - gotta be big, a boy that size - would nudge up against Jensen’s hip, pleading for attention that he’d be more than happy to give.
He presses both palms flat over his groin as he imagines them grinding together, Jared’s heat pressed swelteringly against him, his breath in Jensen’s ear losing small, almost unwilling sounds like he doesn’t quite want to admit how good it feels. His fingers would dig into the meat of Jensen’s ass, forcing them together even tighter, the other sliding through his newly shortened hair, barely a suggestion of downward pressure, more like a hope than a request.
Jensen fumbles hurriedly through his nightstand, digging to the bottom to find the large blue - flesh-toned has always freaked him out - dildo that he might - might - have secretly nicknamed Jared. His hands are shaking ridiculously as he drops it to the bed, fighting his new jeans open and low enough to free his cock.
If anyone were ever going to know about this, he’d be embarrassed how worked up he is over nothing but a fantasy and the touch of his own hands but right now, he just doesn’t have the capacity to care one way or another. His balls are throbbing, a hard, aching knot of want nestled at the base of his dick and right now his only focus is playing this out.
One hand wrapped around his dick, the other holding the base of the dildo against the sheets, Jensen kneels on the bed imagining himself sinking to his knees, Jared’s head tipping back in pleasure just at the visual. There are really only a certain number of times a guy can hear people going on about his cock-sucking mouth without starting to wonder and while Jensen wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s his favorite thing in the world, in the right situation, with the right guy, he can definitely get off on it. Jared would absolutely be the right guy, situation be damned, and as he bends forward and lets his lips part around the thick head of silicone, he imagines Jared’s eyes on him, hot and hungry in the dark.
Exactly once in the entire time they went to school together Jared said Jensen’s name. His mom had sent him a note telling him to pick his sister up from school and Jared had been the office aid who’d delivered it to his fourth period Spanish class. His eyebrows had scrunched up as he’d read over it and then muttered out uncertainly, “Jensen?” It is astronomical levels of lame that Jensen remembers that as vividly as he does, but the sound of it is right there in his head, turned breathless instead of confused as he imagines Jared panting for him, pushing deeper into his mouth.
Jensen’s hand is stroking slow over his own cock, more automatic than calculated as most of his energy focusses on his mouth, the stretch of it, the push as that hardness moves deeper into him. He’s done this enough to be able to swallow back the instinctual urge to gag, to let it touch the soft flesh at the back of his throat before pulling off, working his tongue like Jared will really feel it. Maybe Danneel was right about taking the method acting thing too seriously.
On the other hand, he can visualize, picture-perfect, the blissed look that would be on Jared’s beautiful face as his hips buck forward helplessly, needing to be back in the sucking heat of Jensen’s mouth and that just might be worth the embarrassment of laying on his own bed, sucking a fake dick to get off.
There’s enough precome leaking out of him that the drag of his fist in just the right side of too-much friction, sticky-slick and good as he feeds the silicone back into his mouth. Jared’s hand would be huge on the back of his head, spanning from one side of his skull to the other, insistent pressure as Jensen groans and swallows, struggles to breathe, to keep himself from just pushing down on it and choking himself. That white-haze is getting closer, balls drawing up, heat coiling tighter at the base of his spine. He groans around the length in his mouth, rubs his tongue hard against the underside and imagines Jared’s nails dragging against his scalp, hearing him moan as his breath shorts out and his thrusts lose rhythm.
"Jensen, I'm gonna..." the Jared in his head warns but his hands wouldn't move. No, he'd hold Jensen right there as he gets close, taking what he wants and making Jensen love it. His own fist moves frantically up and down the length of his cock, desperate for that last push, almost there, almost there.
A rough scrape and his voice is going to be fucked for the rest of the night but Jensen can't really bring himself to care because the head of the dildo - of Jared's cock - has pushed into his throat, choking him up, stealing his air, and his come is spattering in wet globs all over the sheets beneath him just like he imagines Jared's pouring down his throat.
There's a wet, filthy pop when Jensen pulls off of the silicone shaft and flops sideways on his bed, mostly succeeding in avoiding the mess. He never feels quite as disgusting as when he comes up for air after letting himself go that deep into an idea - everyone who ever told him having an active imagination was a gift can fuck right off. There's just something sick about imagining someone, a real someone, so intimately that seems... wrong. Like invading their privacy or looking at dirty pictures of them or something, except that all of the images are coming from his head.
Maybe that's the same for everyone though. Maybe the whole world's walking around with a mental peep show and Jensen's just the one who's freaking out about it. Maybe, just maybe, if Jared Padalecki had any fucking clue who Jensen is, Jared would be imagining dirty pictures of him too.
With an effort of will just shy of herculean, Jensen manages to get himself put back together; tucked back into his unecessarily tight new pants, bed stripped, incriminating sex toys hidden away again in case Danneel decides to sneak in again and do any more of her 'found object studies' of his stuff. He'd known that letting that girl take a photography class was just begging for trouble.
Jensen's got an arm under his bed, searching for the inevitable stray socks that seem to build a congregation down there whenever given half a chance when the thought hits. It's not a particularly bright thought, only the edges of starting to form a stable crust for him to really consider but... no. Bad idea. Really bad idea.
And yet. The whole reason he ended up Facebook stalking Jared in the first place was that Chad thought it was hilarious that Jared has to wear a pink uniform shirt for his job at the old photo-hut on Davis Avenue - hilarious because he's gay, get it? Plus, Danni keeps insisting that naked is his best look and he's certainly never had any complaints from the men he's brought home. And she is pretty good at finding flattering angles. It would be at least moderately less humiliating than turning up at Jared's house naked and he's never yet met a gay guy who would turn down looking at an at least moderately attractive dude's bare body. It would certainly be attention getting. It could...
No. It couldn't. He wouldn't. He's not.
Not.
Definitely not.
Right?
Pairing: (Jared)/Jensen
Rating: NC-17 -- Wordcount: 2,200
Warnings: College!AU, masturbation, toys, PWP
Notes: Prequel to Developments - because i'd hate for ikemiker to go through any more DTs ;)
Summary - Facebook. Three and a half years after he first set eyes on Jared Padalecki and felt some integral part of his brain melt, Jensen finds out that Jared is into guys. Through Facebook.
Facebook. Three and a half years after he first set eyes on Jared Padalecki and felt some integral part of his brain melt, Jensen finds out that Jared is into guys. Through Facebook. What kind of shit is that?
Jensen flops back on his bed, shopping bags crinkling loudly as their bulk hits the eighteen inches of space between the foot of Jensen’s bed and the wall - yes, Jensen’s measured, just to prove that his bedroom is, in fact, smaller than his mother’s closet back home. A whole new wardrobe, a whole new 'look' all so that he can maybe at long last accomplish the one thing he always wanted and never managed to in high school - getting Jared to notice his existence.
Which would all be well and good if they had, you know, a plan or something but so far the best Danni's come up with is 'look hot'. Well, alright, technically she had also come up with 'show up at his house naked' but since Jensen happens to know Jared's staying with his parents for the summer - once getting with him had become a vaguely reasonable possibility, Facebook stalking was officially allowed: College Rule #27 - and he still has those few pesky, clinging vestiges of dignity, he'd nixed that idea right off the bat. Getting rejected, face-to-face, naked, might actually be the lowest low ever lowed.
Jensen's beginning to have some doubts about his roommate's prowess as a gay matchmaker.
His hands goes to slick back through his hair, immediately feeling bald on top of everything else. It’s been three days since Danneel convinced him to get it cut - “You can’t have the same haircut as the guy you’re trying to fuck, that’s just too much hair in one couple” - and it still feels strange. The contacts have been around for most of the semester so he’s mostly used to walking around without his glasses, but now his face feels really naked. Add to that the new shirts Danni badgered him into getting, one of which is currently vacuum-sealed to his torso, and Jensen feels downright indecent. Of course, going by some of the stares he was getting on the way out of the mall, he’s not the only one who thinks so.
Jensen had been doing so well - so damn well - in avoiding his unfortunate… fixation with Jared. In high school it was alright; they were stuck in the same building all the time so it was hardly Jensen’s fault that he always found himself looking at Jared all the damn time and seeing as he had no real viable romantic options so it was perfectly reasonable to have a humiliatingly cliché crush on the hot straight boy.
Jared was like the high school equivalent of the mythical uniform - he could hang out with anyone, was cool with everybody without being a total poser. He was gorgeous and athletic but still completely capable of tripping over his own shoelaces and laughing at his own clumsy ass. He could talk all kind of trash about football and Halo or whatever with the guys and still watch Project Runway with his little sister and make baby noises over any and every small animal he saw, be it in real life, on a compute screen, or that puppy poster Ms. Hollond had hanging up in her classroom. Jensen had actually once seen him run in front of a car to save a kitten. Seriously, that shit happened.
So yeah, not Jensen’s fault that his naturally surging teenage hormones had focused on Jared - entirely excusable. Seeing as half the people in their graduating class ended up at the same college, made the fact that Jensen also went to the same school as Jared un-disturbing and when he subsequently avoided all contact or mention of Jared or the people he used to hang out with, everything was fine. Up until the point where apparently Jared came out some time after they graduated and Jensen totally fucking missed it for a fucking year!
That whole idea makes him a little bit insane because it means that the odds are really good that while Jensen was wasting his time dating losers he wasn’t all that interested in, Jared was probably out there getting introduced to gay sex by dicks that are not attached to Jensen. Just thinking about Jared down on his knees for somebody else, eyes watering as he struggles through giving his first blow job, sloppy and inexperienced, lips glossy with spit, stretched wide around the thick push of a -
Damnit, now Jensen’s hard. Frustrated and hard.
It’s been a long time since Jensen actively allowed himself to think about Jared while getting off. Excluding drunk-jacking, because that doesn’t count. And maybe that one really tall guy he went out with a couple of times. But still, sober and alone, he hasn’t let Jared feature into any of his get-there material because when you have options with guys who are legitimately interested in fucking you, it’s beyond pathetic to still be focusing on your straight high school crush.
Now, though, Jared’s not straight anymore, which means that if Jensen, say, imagines running into him at that club downtown with all the pretty-boy cage dancers, it’s not so far-fetched. Nor is it completely outside of the realm of possibility to envision Jared’s eyes sweeping down Jensen’s body - he’d wear those kinda slutty black jeans Danni talked him into that show off his ass - and maybe a drink or two in, backing him up into one of those conveniently dark, secluded corners, his gigantic, sexy hands running over Jensen’s chest, his thighs, down to palm the bulge of his dick.
Jensen groans quietly at the pressure of his own hands mirroring his mental play-by-play of Jared’s. He’s never been quite so grateful for that storyboarding project they had to do in his directing class. His fingers massage at the full swell of his balls under tight denim, heel of his palm rubbing up and down the shaft in small strokes. It feels so good, and with Jared’s even bigger, stronger hands it would be even better. The thick heat of his cock - gotta be big, a boy that size - would nudge up against Jensen’s hip, pleading for attention that he’d be more than happy to give.
He presses both palms flat over his groin as he imagines them grinding together, Jared’s heat pressed swelteringly against him, his breath in Jensen’s ear losing small, almost unwilling sounds like he doesn’t quite want to admit how good it feels. His fingers would dig into the meat of Jensen’s ass, forcing them together even tighter, the other sliding through his newly shortened hair, barely a suggestion of downward pressure, more like a hope than a request.
Jensen fumbles hurriedly through his nightstand, digging to the bottom to find the large blue - flesh-toned has always freaked him out - dildo that he might - might - have secretly nicknamed Jared. His hands are shaking ridiculously as he drops it to the bed, fighting his new jeans open and low enough to free his cock.
If anyone were ever going to know about this, he’d be embarrassed how worked up he is over nothing but a fantasy and the touch of his own hands but right now, he just doesn’t have the capacity to care one way or another. His balls are throbbing, a hard, aching knot of want nestled at the base of his dick and right now his only focus is playing this out.
One hand wrapped around his dick, the other holding the base of the dildo against the sheets, Jensen kneels on the bed imagining himself sinking to his knees, Jared’s head tipping back in pleasure just at the visual. There are really only a certain number of times a guy can hear people going on about his cock-sucking mouth without starting to wonder and while Jensen wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s his favorite thing in the world, in the right situation, with the right guy, he can definitely get off on it. Jared would absolutely be the right guy, situation be damned, and as he bends forward and lets his lips part around the thick head of silicone, he imagines Jared’s eyes on him, hot and hungry in the dark.
Exactly once in the entire time they went to school together Jared said Jensen’s name. His mom had sent him a note telling him to pick his sister up from school and Jared had been the office aid who’d delivered it to his fourth period Spanish class. His eyebrows had scrunched up as he’d read over it and then muttered out uncertainly, “Jensen?” It is astronomical levels of lame that Jensen remembers that as vividly as he does, but the sound of it is right there in his head, turned breathless instead of confused as he imagines Jared panting for him, pushing deeper into his mouth.
Jensen’s hand is stroking slow over his own cock, more automatic than calculated as most of his energy focusses on his mouth, the stretch of it, the push as that hardness moves deeper into him. He’s done this enough to be able to swallow back the instinctual urge to gag, to let it touch the soft flesh at the back of his throat before pulling off, working his tongue like Jared will really feel it. Maybe Danneel was right about taking the method acting thing too seriously.
On the other hand, he can visualize, picture-perfect, the blissed look that would be on Jared’s beautiful face as his hips buck forward helplessly, needing to be back in the sucking heat of Jensen’s mouth and that just might be worth the embarrassment of laying on his own bed, sucking a fake dick to get off.
There’s enough precome leaking out of him that the drag of his fist in just the right side of too-much friction, sticky-slick and good as he feeds the silicone back into his mouth. Jared’s hand would be huge on the back of his head, spanning from one side of his skull to the other, insistent pressure as Jensen groans and swallows, struggles to breathe, to keep himself from just pushing down on it and choking himself. That white-haze is getting closer, balls drawing up, heat coiling tighter at the base of his spine. He groans around the length in his mouth, rubs his tongue hard against the underside and imagines Jared’s nails dragging against his scalp, hearing him moan as his breath shorts out and his thrusts lose rhythm.
"Jensen, I'm gonna..." the Jared in his head warns but his hands wouldn't move. No, he'd hold Jensen right there as he gets close, taking what he wants and making Jensen love it. His own fist moves frantically up and down the length of his cock, desperate for that last push, almost there, almost there.
A rough scrape and his voice is going to be fucked for the rest of the night but Jensen can't really bring himself to care because the head of the dildo - of Jared's cock - has pushed into his throat, choking him up, stealing his air, and his come is spattering in wet globs all over the sheets beneath him just like he imagines Jared's pouring down his throat.
There's a wet, filthy pop when Jensen pulls off of the silicone shaft and flops sideways on his bed, mostly succeeding in avoiding the mess. He never feels quite as disgusting as when he comes up for air after letting himself go that deep into an idea - everyone who ever told him having an active imagination was a gift can fuck right off. There's just something sick about imagining someone, a real someone, so intimately that seems... wrong. Like invading their privacy or looking at dirty pictures of them or something, except that all of the images are coming from his head.
Maybe that's the same for everyone though. Maybe the whole world's walking around with a mental peep show and Jensen's just the one who's freaking out about it. Maybe, just maybe, if Jared Padalecki had any fucking clue who Jensen is, Jared would be imagining dirty pictures of him too.
With an effort of will just shy of herculean, Jensen manages to get himself put back together; tucked back into his unecessarily tight new pants, bed stripped, incriminating sex toys hidden away again in case Danneel decides to sneak in again and do any more of her 'found object studies' of his stuff. He'd known that letting that girl take a photography class was just begging for trouble.
Jensen's got an arm under his bed, searching for the inevitable stray socks that seem to build a congregation down there whenever given half a chance when the thought hits. It's not a particularly bright thought, only the edges of starting to form a stable crust for him to really consider but... no. Bad idea. Really bad idea.
And yet. The whole reason he ended up Facebook stalking Jared in the first place was that Chad thought it was hilarious that Jared has to wear a pink uniform shirt for his job at the old photo-hut on Davis Avenue - hilarious because he's gay, get it? Plus, Danni keeps insisting that naked is his best look and he's certainly never had any complaints from the men he's brought home. And she is pretty good at finding flattering angles. It would be at least moderately less humiliating than turning up at Jared's house naked and he's never yet met a gay guy who would turn down looking at an at least moderately attractive dude's bare body. It would certainly be attention getting. It could...
No. It couldn't. He wouldn't. He's not.
Not.
Definitely not.
Right?