New RPS fic - JA/JP - Truth
I'm...not sure where this came from, really, but here it is *g*
Thanks to traveller for the first read through and then for the awesome beta on this. cee baby, you're my hart ♥
Title - Truth
Pairing - JA/JP
Rating - porn
Size - ~1300 words
Truth
It's not something they talk about, whatever this thing is that's between them.
Jensen hooks the heel of his boot on the bottom rung of his barstool. His beer is dark and bitter and cold, and as he sips it he thinks that it's probably the worst thing to mix with the six shots of tequila he's already had, but-
Jared is a few feet away, smiling and talking to two girls; his expression is bright and easy. His hair falls across his forehead and he catches Jen's eye once for every three times Jen slants a look at him.
The jukebox clicks off. The bartender is talking to someone at the other end of the bar, wiping a glass dry with a dingy rag. Jensen's stool is lopsided so every time he moves the chair lifts up on the right, then thunks back down an inch lower on the left.
Jared looks at him then. He's leaning against the bar, and Jensen studies the curve of his back, the way he's slouched down to be closer in height to the two girls. One's a blonde and the other has hair that's long and a dark reddish brown color. Jared says something funny-something he's supposed to say--and the girls laugh.
I know what you look like when you come, Jen thinks as Jared watches him. I know how your mouth tastes.
It's not something Jensen would ever say out loud. He knows that. But. It doesn't make it any less true.
*
Talk shows and award shows and magazine articles. Press and publication. Photo shoots and radio dates and interviews. All the world's a stage Jensen reminds himself every day.
Jared comes over his house at night. He brings a twelve pack of beer and a bottle of orange vodka. Jensen cooks; fried chicken with gravy or steaks on the grill. Jared leans against Jensen's kitchen counter, all long legs and loose easy smiles, and Jensen forgets for a minute that this is his for the night. He forgets that it's just the two of them, that there's no one else to see.
When he remembers he drops the spatula he's holding and backs Jared up against the sink; Jared's mouth is warm and tastes like beer and peppermint gum. Jensen kisses him until all he tastes is himself on Jared's tongue.
"What was that for?" Jared asks, his breath coming short when Jensen backs away.
Jensen drags his thumb across Jared's bottom lip, watches Jared's cheeks flush, sees his eyes darken. Jared tilts his head down and kisses Jen's temple, down by his ear. Across his eyebrow and Jensen says "Because I can," as he pulls Jared's shirt from his pants.
*
After they eat they go from the kitchen to the living room, their bellies full of food and booze. Jensen leaves the dishes soaking in the sink; he had started to wash them when he felt Jared's hand fall lightly on his waist.
"Game's coming on," Jared said. "You wanna go watch?" And since Jensen hasn't yet found the thing he'd say no to Jared for, he turned the water off and said, "Sure."
They bring their beers out with them, and Jensen turns the TV on. He finds the game and settles back into the couch, Jared sitting not even a hand's span away on his right.
The first quarter ends and the Mavericks are getting their asses handed to them when Jared twists his body and kisses Jensen hard on the mouth.
Jared means more than every secret Jen's ever kept; is harder to hide than every lie he's ever told. He leans back as Jared pushes him down into the cushions, his body long and hard, his hands pulling Jen's shirt from his jeans.
"Jen," Jared pants. His mouth is wet as he kisses Jensen's ear. He pushes his hips down, pinning Jen against the couch, and breathes, "You want to go upstairs?"
"Yeah," Jensen answers. "Yes."
So they toss the pillows on the floor and fuck right there on the couch, the same as they do every time they start there. It's been days, and the first time after is always too quick and frantic. Clothes are pulled and zippers rip; Jared's fingers are slick when they press inside him but it's still too rough, too hard, too much. Not enough time waiting because they're both tired of it, all the waiting, the pretending. All Jensen wants is this. What he has here, now. This.
The second time is slower. They usually make it to the bedroom for the second time, and turn all the lights out. Jen crawls up between Jared's legs, runs his hands over his smooth chest.
Jared's skin is the color of warm cinnamon. Jensen kisses his collarbone, licks across one nipple. Jared arches up off the bed, and Jen runs his hands down Jared's sides, calming him down, taking his time.
This is what's real between them, what they have right here. Jensen keeps his eyes open as he wraps his fingers around Jared's cock, he watches Jared pant and breathe and moan Jen's name. Jared's mouth is always open; on a breath or a sigh. His voice is rolling and smooth and he drags out the two syllables of Jensen's name into four or five.
Here is their truth. In Jensen's bed, with the sheets wrinkled and twisted beneath them. The fan is whirring overhead and dim light spills in from the hallway. Jensen fucks Jared slow with his fingers first, watching Jared's knuckles turn white as he clutches the blanket in his fists. He tosses his head to the side and Jensen touches his mouth to Jared's throat, feeling his heart thud under Jen's lips.
"Yeah," Jared moans. "Yeah. Come on, Jen. Do it."
Jared sprawls, his arms thrown out, his heel dragging up the knotted sheets; Jensen bites his lip and slides inside. Jared is tight and hot and he curls up off the mattress, his hands clutching at Jen's shoulders, his back, his waist.
This is all Jensen wants, what he has right here. Jared spread out beneath him. No lies, no secrets. Just them. He doesn't want to talk or say anything, he doesn't want to put a title to this, or a label or a name.
He fucks Jared until there's nothing but truth between them, until the only thing that matters is skin and sweat and the sound of their ragged breaths breaking across the room.
*
They go to work the next day and everything's the same as it's always been, as it will always be. Jared gets interviewed for some teen rag and Jensen sits in his trailer and listens to music while his co-star is crowned hottest new actor or some shit. Jared has his girlfriend and Jensen has a few, and things go on as they always do, nothing changes. This is the life they have.
After shooting for the day they might meet up, go out and have a few beers. The bars they choose are always local and quiet. They'll go back and forth; who buys a round, who pays for the shots. Jared will talk to the girls because that's what he does. Jared's the friendly one, the accessible guy, the one with the wide, bright smiles and easy laugh.
Jensen will sit on his stool and sip his drink and think about what Jared's skin feels like between his teeth, how Jared's hands feel on his chest or his hips or around his cock. He'll remember the way Jared tastes and how he sounds and the way his breath feels warm and wet against Jen's ear. That's his part, that's what he does.
They never talk about this, is the thing, but not for the reasons anyone might think. They don't talk about it because there's nothing to say.
-end-
Thanks to traveller for the first read through and then for the awesome beta on this. cee baby, you're my hart ♥
Title - Truth
Pairing - JA/JP
Rating - porn
Size - ~1300 words
Truth
It's not something they talk about, whatever this thing is that's between them.
Jensen hooks the heel of his boot on the bottom rung of his barstool. His beer is dark and bitter and cold, and as he sips it he thinks that it's probably the worst thing to mix with the six shots of tequila he's already had, but-
Jared is a few feet away, smiling and talking to two girls; his expression is bright and easy. His hair falls across his forehead and he catches Jen's eye once for every three times Jen slants a look at him.
The jukebox clicks off. The bartender is talking to someone at the other end of the bar, wiping a glass dry with a dingy rag. Jensen's stool is lopsided so every time he moves the chair lifts up on the right, then thunks back down an inch lower on the left.
Jared looks at him then. He's leaning against the bar, and Jensen studies the curve of his back, the way he's slouched down to be closer in height to the two girls. One's a blonde and the other has hair that's long and a dark reddish brown color. Jared says something funny-something he's supposed to say--and the girls laugh.
I know what you look like when you come, Jen thinks as Jared watches him. I know how your mouth tastes.
It's not something Jensen would ever say out loud. He knows that. But. It doesn't make it any less true.
*
Talk shows and award shows and magazine articles. Press and publication. Photo shoots and radio dates and interviews. All the world's a stage Jensen reminds himself every day.
Jared comes over his house at night. He brings a twelve pack of beer and a bottle of orange vodka. Jensen cooks; fried chicken with gravy or steaks on the grill. Jared leans against Jensen's kitchen counter, all long legs and loose easy smiles, and Jensen forgets for a minute that this is his for the night. He forgets that it's just the two of them, that there's no one else to see.
When he remembers he drops the spatula he's holding and backs Jared up against the sink; Jared's mouth is warm and tastes like beer and peppermint gum. Jensen kisses him until all he tastes is himself on Jared's tongue.
"What was that for?" Jared asks, his breath coming short when Jensen backs away.
Jensen drags his thumb across Jared's bottom lip, watches Jared's cheeks flush, sees his eyes darken. Jared tilts his head down and kisses Jen's temple, down by his ear. Across his eyebrow and Jensen says "Because I can," as he pulls Jared's shirt from his pants.
*
After they eat they go from the kitchen to the living room, their bellies full of food and booze. Jensen leaves the dishes soaking in the sink; he had started to wash them when he felt Jared's hand fall lightly on his waist.
"Game's coming on," Jared said. "You wanna go watch?" And since Jensen hasn't yet found the thing he'd say no to Jared for, he turned the water off and said, "Sure."
They bring their beers out with them, and Jensen turns the TV on. He finds the game and settles back into the couch, Jared sitting not even a hand's span away on his right.
The first quarter ends and the Mavericks are getting their asses handed to them when Jared twists his body and kisses Jensen hard on the mouth.
Jared means more than every secret Jen's ever kept; is harder to hide than every lie he's ever told. He leans back as Jared pushes him down into the cushions, his body long and hard, his hands pulling Jen's shirt from his jeans.
"Jen," Jared pants. His mouth is wet as he kisses Jensen's ear. He pushes his hips down, pinning Jen against the couch, and breathes, "You want to go upstairs?"
"Yeah," Jensen answers. "Yes."
So they toss the pillows on the floor and fuck right there on the couch, the same as they do every time they start there. It's been days, and the first time after is always too quick and frantic. Clothes are pulled and zippers rip; Jared's fingers are slick when they press inside him but it's still too rough, too hard, too much. Not enough time waiting because they're both tired of it, all the waiting, the pretending. All Jensen wants is this. What he has here, now. This.
The second time is slower. They usually make it to the bedroom for the second time, and turn all the lights out. Jen crawls up between Jared's legs, runs his hands over his smooth chest.
Jared's skin is the color of warm cinnamon. Jensen kisses his collarbone, licks across one nipple. Jared arches up off the bed, and Jen runs his hands down Jared's sides, calming him down, taking his time.
This is what's real between them, what they have right here. Jensen keeps his eyes open as he wraps his fingers around Jared's cock, he watches Jared pant and breathe and moan Jen's name. Jared's mouth is always open; on a breath or a sigh. His voice is rolling and smooth and he drags out the two syllables of Jensen's name into four or five.
Here is their truth. In Jensen's bed, with the sheets wrinkled and twisted beneath them. The fan is whirring overhead and dim light spills in from the hallway. Jensen fucks Jared slow with his fingers first, watching Jared's knuckles turn white as he clutches the blanket in his fists. He tosses his head to the side and Jensen touches his mouth to Jared's throat, feeling his heart thud under Jen's lips.
"Yeah," Jared moans. "Yeah. Come on, Jen. Do it."
Jared sprawls, his arms thrown out, his heel dragging up the knotted sheets; Jensen bites his lip and slides inside. Jared is tight and hot and he curls up off the mattress, his hands clutching at Jen's shoulders, his back, his waist.
This is all Jensen wants, what he has right here. Jared spread out beneath him. No lies, no secrets. Just them. He doesn't want to talk or say anything, he doesn't want to put a title to this, or a label or a name.
He fucks Jared until there's nothing but truth between them, until the only thing that matters is skin and sweat and the sound of their ragged breaths breaking across the room.
*
They go to work the next day and everything's the same as it's always been, as it will always be. Jared gets interviewed for some teen rag and Jensen sits in his trailer and listens to music while his co-star is crowned hottest new actor or some shit. Jared has his girlfriend and Jensen has a few, and things go on as they always do, nothing changes. This is the life they have.
After shooting for the day they might meet up, go out and have a few beers. The bars they choose are always local and quiet. They'll go back and forth; who buys a round, who pays for the shots. Jared will talk to the girls because that's what he does. Jared's the friendly one, the accessible guy, the one with the wide, bright smiles and easy laugh.
Jensen will sit on his stool and sip his drink and think about what Jared's skin feels like between his teeth, how Jared's hands feel on his chest or his hips or around his cock. He'll remember the way Jared tastes and how he sounds and the way his breath feels warm and wet against Jen's ear. That's his part, that's what he does.
They never talk about this, is the thing, but not for the reasons anyone might think. They don't talk about it because there's nothing to say.
-end-