I hope you overhear me (when I'm uttering my name for you) - Jared/Jensen, Jensen/OMC NC-17
Title - I hope you overhear me (when I’m uttering my name for you)
Author - queerly_it_is
Pairing - Jared/Jensen, Jensen/OMC
Rating - NC-17
Word Count - 2.2k
Warnings - Graphic smut (Porn-With-Plot); slutty!connivingbottom!Jensen, toppy!jealous!Jared, cheating/infidelity, rough sex, power exchange, comeplay, dirty talk, inappropriate use of a washing machine.
Disclaimer - I own nothing. Real people have nothing to do with the fic-clones mentioned here.
Summary - Written for this RPS prompt on http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/
Jared's really annoyed with the new neighbours, who he can hear plain as day through the walls of his apartment. They fight all the time, and have loud sex in the room adjacent to Jared's bedroom (so he can feel the walls banging behind his head, etc). But, he hates to admit it, he also gets really turned on when the bigger (asshole) guy roughs up the pretty (hot) one. It shouldn't be hot, listening to the gorgeous guy with the cocksucking lips crying and begging, but it gets Jared hard every time. So much so that he'd really like to go over there one day and try his luck with that pretty guy named Jensen (since Jared's bigger and stronger than the big asshole).
Authors Notes - So after telling myself that three 1.5k comment!meme fills (including the somewhat accidental creation of a J2 superhero ‘verse (fuck my life)) and a large bit of weecest were enough porn for one day, I quickly got frustrated by the J2 werewolf!AU I’m still working on (12k and I feel as though it’s barely started, yikes!) and started trolling kinkmeme for a distraction, while also trying to ignore jealous!Dean fic percolating somewhere in a corner. This was a nice one. Title from Salad’s ‘Overhear Me’.
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On a conscious, rational level, Jared knows that killing his neighbours - or at least one of them - is not a good idea.
He likes his life, he likes his job, he’s considered to be more-or-less a nice guy.
He doesn’t wanna go to jail for murder.
But Christ, if he has to listen to them screwing right next to his goddamn pillow for much longer he’s gonna fucking lose it, okay?
It doesn’t help that every time the stupidly-pretty little bottom starts to moan and beg and cry, as his jackass of a boyfriend almost fucks him through the wall next to Jared’s bed - he’s had more than one nightmare of them actually smashing their way through and just carrying right on into his bedroom while he’s sleeping - the last thing on his mind is rest anyway.
Jared spends a lot of nights on the couch, these days.
Right on cue, the shouting starts.
“I know you were fucking looking at him! Don’t you dare fucking lie to me!”
Jared thinks asshole-boyfriend needs to learn some new curse words.
“Christ, I wasn’t looking at him OK? God-forbid anyone actually wants to talk to me like a person! I dunno why I put up with this shit!”
Jared knows.
Though he wishes he didn’t.
Thud.
Rattle of loose plaster above his head, small trickle of powder raining on his bed sheets where the dickhead and his fucktoy have actually cracked the ceiling between the rooms a little bit.
Then the moaning starts.
Right on time.
“Fuck, you can’t just. Shit, harder, c’mon. God you are such a bastard.”
For all he looks sweet and innocent; little twenty-something with pouty, cocksucking lips and big green eyes, he knows exactly how to goad this meathead into giving him what he wants.
Which apparently, is to keep Jared up every single night, entertaining thoughts of what, exactly the asshole is doing to the lithe little thing. Not that what he hears doesn’t fill in most of those blanks.
“Harder, c’mon give it to me like you’re man enough.”
Clever fucking bitch, this one.
The cries and whimpers only get louder, and Jared consigns himself to another night of jerking off to the sound of other people fucking literally a foot away from him.
Sometimes, Jared doesn’t like his life that much.
It’s been going on for over four months now, ever since Jared had walked into his apartment building and almost bowled someone over. Someone, who was actually the most gorgeous thing Jared had ever seen. Not as tall or as broad as Jared himself - Jensen, the guy’d said his name was, before the thick-necked asshole had dragged him off to his cave, or whatever - was lean and almost-feminine where Jared was kind of a giant; all hands and feet and broad shoulders. He’d gotten an almost-coy smile from the guy before the boyfriend had pulled him away like Jared was gonna grab him and run.
He’s been tempted, more than once.
He knows the guy isn’t beating on Jensen or anything, no matter how often he hears the yelling and the angry sex. It’s just. Well, he doesn’t see what’s so special about the guy that he gets someone as hot as Jensen, while Jared - who isn‘t a conceited guy by nature, but still knows he‘s better-looking - sits jerking off to second-hand porno noises.
“God, so big.”
“C’mon take it, fucking slut.”
Bang. Whimper.
Ah.
That might explain it.
Still, Jared is over 6’4” and built like a house, the boyfriend is no taller than 6’ and more of a stocky-linebacker type.
Jared could totally take him.
Would bet money his cock is bigger, too.
He swears his thoughts aren’t usually this un-evolved. He blames Jensen for being too gorgeous for his own good, and comes to the noise of said hotass being fucked stupid in the next apartment.
As luck would have it, asshole-boyfriend heads out early the next day, and Jared winds up spending his Sunday in the laundry-room with Jensen, who gives him that same slow-rake of eyes and coy smile that he did the first time he’d seen Jared, when he saunters in with his hamper.
“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” Nods politely as he tries to remember what order he’s supposed to put the powders in - fuck but Jared hates laundry.
“Yeah, Pete and I have been kinda busy.”
Jared damn-near bites through his tongue trying to stay quiet at that. He’s knows all too-well how busy Jensen’s been; he’s woken with plaster dust in his hair enough times.
“I dunno what you see in that guy.” He doesn’t actually mean to say it, but his brain-to-mouth filter kinda breaks when Jensen bends at the waist to shove his clothes into one of the machines, tight, round ass sticking obscenely into the air.
Luckily it doesn’t seem to be anything he hasn’t heard before, judging by the throaty chuckle and smirk tilting his distracting lips. “Oh he’s not so bad, just gotta know how to…handle him”. Less than a second of a pause, but the innuendo is like another person in the room.
That’s about when Jared realises he’s alone. With Jensen. In a basement.
Jared can be kinda slow, sometimes.
He’s across the room and up in Jensen’s pretty little face before he has time to second-guess this, to think about consequences or the way his momma always clucks her tongue at people who cheat on their significant others.
Jared maybe gets the temptation, now.
The smirk hasn’t left Jensen’s face in the slightest, if anything it’s gotten wider. Jared kinda wants to wipe it off him. With a quick duck-and-lift, he has Jensen sitting on the washing machine, Jared standing between the guy’s spread legs, eyes level and a little wide in surprise. Knew he was stronger than that asshole.
“You want something to handle Jensen?” He has never heard himself sound like that, growling and harsh, almost angry.
Not the boyfriend’s fault then, it would seem.
“Why, Jayred” Slow, lazy drawl only making the fire in Jared’s chest burn hotter, brighter. “You got somethin’ in mind?” His eyes drop down Jared’s chest and stop at the crotch of his pants.
This is about when he notices just how much his dick is pressing out against the material.
Oh fuck the foreplay already, he’s been listening to Jensen get pounded for months now.
He’s a little sick of the floor-show.
That’s when it occurs to him.
“Have you. Did. Have you been fucking against my bedroom wall on purpose?!” Personal space a distant memory now, noses almost touching, eyes trying not to cross as they bore into Jensen’s.
That fucking smirk again.
Little. Bitch.
“Alright then.” Snapping into motion, hands jerking his shirt over his head, appreciative once-over from Jensen. “You wanna act like a bitch in heat Jensen? I’mma fuckin’ treat you like one.”
“Big talk.” Almost bored tone.
That is just it.
He’s got Jensen spun around and bent over the machine in the blink of an eye, surprised little noise from Jensen’s throat that says he’s not used to being tossed about so easy.
Jared utterly fails at not feeling smug about that.
“Fuck, took you long enough, been tryin’a get a rise outta you for months, you dick.” Breath choppy, nowhere near as in control as he’d like Jared to think.
Good.
“You wanted me to fuck you so bad, should’a just asked like a good little slut.” Not the tone of the Southern gentleman his momma raised him to be, that’s for sure.
Good.
Finally shuts Jensen up anyway; just a high whimper that makes Jared’s gut twist and his cock throb.
He’s never heard it in person before.
He grabs the waistband at the back of Jensen’s jeans, tugs hard.
No underwear.
There’s lube leaking down his thighs.
“You fucking planned this?” Turned-on and more than a touch impressed, Jared presses a finger to the tight pink furl of Jensen’s - completely smooth, little slut must wax - hole. Watches it sink in, hot knife though butter. Adds another finger, twists them just right, Jensen’s hips leaping forward, pressing him into the washing machine.
There’s an idea.
He reaches out with the hand that isn’t fucking into Jensen’s sweet little ass, and turns the dial on the machine. It hums to life and rattles like a fucking jackhammer.
More than a whimper from Jensen, this time.
His hips buck forward into the shuddering vibrations, before it almost immediately becomes too harsh, and he jerks his cock away from where it’d pressed against the closed lid. Jared just presses him sharply down onto it with a hand on the pale, creamy skin in the middle of his back, above the gorgeous little dimples on either side of his tailbone, three fingers shoved in him all the way, rubbing over the nub of his prostate.
“Nuh uh Jenny, you wanted it, you’re gonna take it however I fuckin’ say you can.” Emulating asshole-boyfriend’s tone, but his Texas accent makes it smoother - sexier, he hopes. Jensen’s hips are shoved right against the machine, cock trapped between his stomach and the lid as it rumbles through the pre-wash cycle. Gorgeous broken grunts and sighs coming from his throat as he pushes back into Jared’s fingers as much as he can.
Jared needs to get his fucking cock in him.
Shoving his jeans down, one hand slick and sticky from working Jensen open even more than he already had been - longer fingers coming in handy - Jared frees the burning length of his dick, watches a pearly bead of precome trail right to the ground in a long string where he’s leaking from the slit.
He doesn’t have a condom. Apparently he says that out aloud.
“Christ, I’m clean you fucking moron, no way would I risk not getting this over a stupid piece’a latex.” He sounds far too composed for Jared’s liking. He smacks his palm down onto Jensen’s ass hard, watches him twitch beautifully into the machine before bucking back again, neat red hand-print coming up across his ass.
Jared moves forward, hips’ pressing Jensen right against the washer again, turns the dial to the spin cycle. Waits for the rapid juddering to really start, before he leans his weight forward on the balls of his feet, and stuffs his cock in all the way to the base.
Jensen gives him a perfect, cracked scream.
Noise of the washer and the fact that they’re in the basement of the building making him bolder, Jared fucks Jensen open with little grinds of his hips, punching noises out of the sweet little bottom pinned beneath him.
For the first time that Jared knows of; the guy’s got a dick in him and isn’t begging for it harder.
That smug feeling really isn’t going away.
“Christ, how can you still be so fucking tight?” Grind of his hips, sharp jab when he finds the angle that’ll hit Jensen’s spot over and over. Both hands looking stupidly large and dark gripping Jensen’s pale hips, he fucks him hard as he can while dragging him back with every thrust, so the slimy head of his cock slip-slides over the rattling lid of the washer.
“This what you wanted?” Snap and grind of hips, cock shoving in, lifting Jensen a little off the flats of his feet with the force of it. “Wanted me to just bend you over like a whore and shove it in you?” He doesn’t expect an answer. Jensen’s got his whole upper body pressed to the washer now, and fuck Jared can feel the vibrations in his dick whenever he thrusts forward again.
Perfect little fucktoy, he thinks.
“You gonna come like this? Pinned to a shaking washer with my cock all stuffed up in you?” Hips moving faster, balls tight, orgasm drawing closer, Jensen’s hands scrabbling for a purchase he isn’t gonna find on the smooth lid of the machine, biting on his lips so hard he’s drawn blood, eyes clenched shut.
He’s completely silent.
Jared comes with the feeling of spin-cycle vibrations rattling in his bones - can only imagine how intense it is for Jensen - come flooding into the guy’s ass and leaking around the red, abused rim of his hole, trailing down his legs. He pushes his weight down on Jensen’s back hard as he can, and gives one last viscous grind against him. He feels the squeezing muscle and spasming grip that says he’s coming all over the top of the washer, mess spreading and sticking to his chest where he’s compressed down into it.
Fuck.
He drags Jensen up by the band of t-shirt now bunched around his armpits. He’s barely conscious; eyes blown completely black, heaving breaths and thin sheen of jizz over half his midsection.
Jared mashes his lips to Jensen’s, copper tang of blood, licks around in the wet heat of his mouth that makes his dick twitch where it’s half-hard and sticky against his thigh.
“Everything you hoped for?” Fucked-out growl against Jensen’s ear, still panting, hands on Jensen‘s sweat-soaked, bare hips.
Throat click-clacking as he tries to speak, pathetic rasp of a voice “Dunno.” Word shoved out his swollen mouth on a cough. “Can do you that again without the washing machine?”
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