So Not My Fault
Title: So Not My Fault
Author: tigerstriped86
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural; Jensen/Jared rpf
Rating: Mature (for teh seks)
Disc.: I don't own their lives. Think of it like a tabloid type thing if that would make you feel better. After all, that's pretty much what rpf is (just nicer).
Props: My j2 family, specifically dugindeep who wanted this prompt done and I told them that they would never look at soap the same way again. I think this is a mission accomplished.
Author's Note: My roommate just found an old tape recorder and we reenacted Ruby Rhod and Korbin Dallas from the 5th Element. Best roommate night ever? Sorry I've been so distant f_list.
Summary: The world is conspiring against Jensen. But, upon reflection and gifts from Misha and Christian, this is not a bad thing.
Really, it's basically about placing the blame squarely on shoulders that were not Jensen's. Curious as to why? It was a conspiracy, all against him, all to make him hot and bothered. And, of course, it worked and ,of course, their friends were involved. And Vancouver. Fuck, this was not even the appropriate weather. But, as Jensen thinks, he's getting ahead of himself.
It starts out as Misha's fault. He has a thing for Russell Crowe. Okay, it's more than a thing. It's like a creepy fangirling obsession. But it's not just any Russell Crowe. It's a Russell-Crowe pre Gladiator and its turning into a creepy ass religion as far as Jensen in concerned. In fact, most things about Misha don't really seem incredibly normal. But, on set, it's one of those things you barely notice. Everyone on set is either fucking keyed up or way too mellow.
The odd obsession that leaked into Jared began the weekend of the month before his birthday. The day hadn't seemed unusual. Jensen had gotten up after Jared, the dogs had woken him with icy cold and yet clean feet. There were Eggos in the toaster and strawberry jam waiting while Jared read the paper in his sexy, thin-framed glasses. Normal, right up until Misha showed up later in the afternoon.
His eyes had been shining, reminding Jensen of one of those guys he had seen on Intervention. “I found it. Limited release old dvd, but oh my God-it's authentic!”
“Que?” Jared had paused before he said it.
Misha nodded and Jensen felt that familiar feeling tingling off him. “An unpirated DVD version of the Sum of Us and Romper Stomper!” It was Jensen's turn to quirk his eyebrow as Misha bolted into the house and the dogs bolted at his legs. He wasn't really noticing, just petting absentmindedly. “Have you not seen these?”
Six hours of Russell Crowe later and Jensen knew he was in trouble. He had plenty of beer and a very brief shot that Misha had found online of Russell Crowe riding a horse naked, but even that did not register a reaction quite like what Jared said early into the morning hours.
“Hey Jen, have you ever thought about trying rugby?”
Jensen shrugs, snuggling into his pillow a bit more effectively and burying the urge to kill Jared since they have filming in about seven hours. “Not really. I mean, when we were in Oz for that con...you could have...”
“Well, I mean, they might have a team here in Vancouver, right? Do you think I'm too tall?”
Jensen mumbles, sleepily. “Too tall for what?”
That earns him a thwack from Jared's pillow before they fall into sleep comas. “For rugby, genius!”
The second part of this screams Christian Kane. Christian is way too nice a guy and way too accommodating for a rock star actor. But under all that fluffy goodness lies a deviant streak, like nougat in a creamy Milky Way bar. Of course, Jensen didn't know this until Jared's birthday this year. Or, more precisely, the weekend after his birthday.
Jared had come home from his game dirty. Of course, dirty was a good understatement. Indeed, rugby was definitely not a tall person's sport. Jensen was half reminded of those National Geographic covers where they shot Amazonians after they had gotten out of the river from fishing. He just had to keep reminding himself that technically it was Jared's house and the mud would get cleaned up.
And it was way too attractive. The way he mamboed up to the house in shorts gone from black to dripping brown and muddy. Vancouver had halted the downpour just enough for the game, of course. Just enough so that mud connected the crinkles of Jared's goofy brown grin to the slop of muddy mess that stuck his bangs straight down nearly over his eyes.
Jensen was very tempted to hold out his hand and tell Jared to stop. He wanted to command Jared to strip right in the front yard, there was a reason they had privacy bushes, and wait for the hose down. No, that was not kinky. They actually had a hose. And the bonus is that Jared would both do it, even though it was cold water, and he would look amazing in the after-effect, running through the house like a wild and bear-naked six year old.
But he was already bounding up the steps with Jensen trailing behind. He was pumped, talking a mile a minute even though the bruise on his knee showed under the mud, thanking Misha for the props and Jensen for standing there while rain dripped into his disposable coffee cup from Tim Hortons. Pumping his fists victoriously, getting the dogs riled up and then making Jensen shout while trying to contain the dirty mess all in the kitchen. What could Jensen say? He liked things clean.
“Jared!”
“What?” Jared had looked back with those faraway glossy eyes. Oh fuck, he was in love with rugby. The goofy, tall Texan with all the grace of a bull elephant was in love with rugby. Jensen knew this was all going to become way too familiar in way too short a time.
“You are dripping mud on the floor I just cleaned a couple of days ago.”
Jared blinked and then Jensen winced as he savagely peeled the shirt from his body and it landed on the floor with a muddy thwack. “Dude, you sound like my mom after football practice.”
“Then perhaps she could talk some sense into you,” Jensen mumbled while trying to think of something clever to retort with.
“What was that Ackles?” Jared moved forward playfully and Jensen's eyes grew big as he realized that Jared didn't really care that he was actually the only member of the household still relatively more clean. Although, Harley and Sadie's cleanliness was looking pretty good right about now. “You saying I'm a dirty boy?”
“Dude, you're gross looking. Go take a shower.” Lie. Epic and total lie on Jensen's part.
Jared shook his head. “Nah-uh. You think I'm gorgeous and you wanna date me. Take me home and kiss me....”
Jensen tried to swat away the half-muddy mess but he was already backed up against the sink and his knee plowed into whatever mud was covering Jared's shorts. “Dude!”
Jared whispered low. “Fine, but you'll have to catch me first.”
He was off with a flash, Jensen trailing. “Padalecki, you're gonna clean up these floors! I swear to...”
Whatever Jensen was thinking would have to wait. His brain was malfunctioning just a bit with the sight of Jared in nothing but his stocking feet as he checked the water and warmed it up, water rinsing at least one of his hands clean.
“You have something to say, Ackles?”
“I...uh...you...yeah...”
Jared turned, his face still streaked and dried with caked mud. “That's what I thought. I have to thank you for letting me try this today.”
Trust me, you are thanking me, Jensen thought. “I'm just glad I can support you, bro.”
“That's good. Cause I'm gonna need someone to help me reach all the nooks and crannies. Its kind of like after we got back from the beach that one time...”
Jensen's eyes dilated as the room began to fill with shower steam and his mouth ran dry. He remembered the sand, that little bungalow where they couldn't even fry an egg on the tiny stove, the scent of clean soap and waves on Jared's body. The way he had growled so deep in the ear as Jensen's fingers had traveled....
“Earth to Ackles....am I showering alone?”
Jensen shook himself, then shook his head and stripped. Jared was magnificent. All those heaving breaths and all that dirt had obscured his half mast cock and the lines of his abs as they had gotten such a workout from all the sport. He was still slightly tan, but not in that freaky way that some people get before they go to Mexico. The mud in certain areas made him look so primal, so real. Any spit Jensen had left seemed to evaporate in his throat.
And it was just like after the surfing lessons. Jared's body pressed into his own, the bar of soap trapped under one of someone's armpit. The scent and the cascading suds, the way the water turned certain colors as Jensen moved his hands and swept across Jared. Jared was always so attentive after sports as well, as though he was more sensitive to Jensen being more sensitive to him. It was so fucking steamy.
It wasn't really kissing and fondling. It was more like shower wrestling. It was a place beyond urge and need, it was ramming your body into something so caring and joyful that nothing on earth was going to compete. It was the shining light, the utter contentment in Jared's groan as though he would never need to eat or breathe or even fuck again after this. It was the way he grabbed you in a kiss, pulled things from deep inside yourself as you moaned. Like there were pockets and layers of air in between your love and he was merging everything together into one half-muddy package.
Jared loved getting soaped up too, his head especially. He would move his back against your chest, stooping down into a half-laying position. His head would move in rhythm with your fingers, his hard cock swaying against his stomach. Sometimes Jared would hum so low and soft you would wonder if he was asleep until your hand would move down and he would thrust as you jacked his hard cock just to hear him whimper for release.
It was enough that Jensen had contemplated more than once just fucking him until neither could stand it, laid sprawling in the shower. Jared wasn't such a fan of being fucked even though he loved the intimacy, but he loved to see Jensen's reaction to being fucked and loved to feel Jensen's hands all over his own body.
“Your turn.” It was no surprise to Jensen when he heard Jared say this with such a wide grin on his face, those crinkles were threatening to crack.
Jensen turned with trust, only to find Jared exiting the shower quickly. Peeking his head out, Jensen squinted through foamy eyes. There was a box in Jared's hands that had four objects of different color, nearly clear when he opened it.
“Jared?”
Jared looked over the selection. “Birthday gift from Christian. Gotta say, I think it was more a gift for you.”
“Are those?”
Jared nodded, selecting one. “Pretty accurate, considering he's never actually seen me stripped down.”
Jensen was a bit taken aback. He could smell the eucalyptus emanating from the long, hard object in Jared's hands. Jensen had to agree from a point of jealousy that it was accurate. “How did he make your dick into a dildo?”
Jared shook his head. “Not just a dildo, its soap. And I have no idea. Necessity must be the mother of invention,” Jared concluded with a winking smile.
It sure felt like Jared. It made Jensen's entire body surge like Jared. It was that same pumping, loving enthusiasm. It was that same slow burn and groaning force right behind him, the same syrup in that same Texas voice. But it felt like soap and smelled like soap.
“Now I know you're even more ready for me. For that fucking big rugby star, right?”
“God yes.”
Jared spread himself against Jensen's body until he was nuzzling into his lover's ear. “Maybe I'll fuck myself while fucking you. What do you think? Think it'll be like masturbating?”
“What?” Jensen was getting a bit hard of hearing what with Jared's hard cock hovering over his already soaped hole.
“Let's find out.”
Jensen and Jared hissed as that old familiar test run came through. Jensen tried not to tighten as the length slowed inside. He sucked his breath in hard and finally felt that relief as Jared stopped for a moment.
“God Ackles, I feel so good. No wonder you fucking love me.”
Jensen breathed heavily, adjusting to the cock. “Yeah, Jar. You are my fucking best, baby.”
“Don't know how much I...oh...”
“Ride me hard, Jared. Ride me like that fucking ball, up and down that field baby. Get me clean, you dirty boy.”
Jared began to thrust maniacally, riding himself with his own cock while holding Jensen's shoulder with his free hand. “Love you Jensen. Fuck, man. Love you, need you, want you.”
Jensen threw his head back, almost bumping into Jared's body. “I'm gonna...”
Jared knew that he couldn't last after Jensen's natural squeeze. His thick load was going to squirt. He pulled out quick enough and Jensen reared, their bodies meshing. The touch was enough. Jensen exploding against the wall, Jared exploding on Jensen's back and falling down into him, the shaped soap falling down and slipping until it halted at the drain.
For a moment, no one breathed except through panting. Jensen straightened up first and turned, cocking his head and smirking. “We missed a spot.”
Author: tigerstriped86
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural; Jensen/Jared rpf
Rating: Mature (for teh seks)
Disc.: I don't own their lives. Think of it like a tabloid type thing if that would make you feel better. After all, that's pretty much what rpf is (just nicer).
Props: My j2 family, specifically dugindeep who wanted this prompt done and I told them that they would never look at soap the same way again. I think this is a mission accomplished.
Author's Note: My roommate just found an old tape recorder and we reenacted Ruby Rhod and Korbin Dallas from the 5th Element. Best roommate night ever? Sorry I've been so distant f_list.
Summary: The world is conspiring against Jensen. But, upon reflection and gifts from Misha and Christian, this is not a bad thing.
Really, it's basically about placing the blame squarely on shoulders that were not Jensen's. Curious as to why? It was a conspiracy, all against him, all to make him hot and bothered. And, of course, it worked and ,of course, their friends were involved. And Vancouver. Fuck, this was not even the appropriate weather. But, as Jensen thinks, he's getting ahead of himself.
It starts out as Misha's fault. He has a thing for Russell Crowe. Okay, it's more than a thing. It's like a creepy fangirling obsession. But it's not just any Russell Crowe. It's a Russell-Crowe pre Gladiator and its turning into a creepy ass religion as far as Jensen in concerned. In fact, most things about Misha don't really seem incredibly normal. But, on set, it's one of those things you barely notice. Everyone on set is either fucking keyed up or way too mellow.
The odd obsession that leaked into Jared began the weekend of the month before his birthday. The day hadn't seemed unusual. Jensen had gotten up after Jared, the dogs had woken him with icy cold and yet clean feet. There were Eggos in the toaster and strawberry jam waiting while Jared read the paper in his sexy, thin-framed glasses. Normal, right up until Misha showed up later in the afternoon.
His eyes had been shining, reminding Jensen of one of those guys he had seen on Intervention. “I found it. Limited release old dvd, but oh my God-it's authentic!”
“Que?” Jared had paused before he said it.
Misha nodded and Jensen felt that familiar feeling tingling off him. “An unpirated DVD version of the Sum of Us and Romper Stomper!” It was Jensen's turn to quirk his eyebrow as Misha bolted into the house and the dogs bolted at his legs. He wasn't really noticing, just petting absentmindedly. “Have you not seen these?”
Six hours of Russell Crowe later and Jensen knew he was in trouble. He had plenty of beer and a very brief shot that Misha had found online of Russell Crowe riding a horse naked, but even that did not register a reaction quite like what Jared said early into the morning hours.
“Hey Jen, have you ever thought about trying rugby?”
Jensen shrugs, snuggling into his pillow a bit more effectively and burying the urge to kill Jared since they have filming in about seven hours. “Not really. I mean, when we were in Oz for that con...you could have...”
“Well, I mean, they might have a team here in Vancouver, right? Do you think I'm too tall?”
Jensen mumbles, sleepily. “Too tall for what?”
That earns him a thwack from Jared's pillow before they fall into sleep comas. “For rugby, genius!”
The second part of this screams Christian Kane. Christian is way too nice a guy and way too accommodating for a rock star actor. But under all that fluffy goodness lies a deviant streak, like nougat in a creamy Milky Way bar. Of course, Jensen didn't know this until Jared's birthday this year. Or, more precisely, the weekend after his birthday.
Jared had come home from his game dirty. Of course, dirty was a good understatement. Indeed, rugby was definitely not a tall person's sport. Jensen was half reminded of those National Geographic covers where they shot Amazonians after they had gotten out of the river from fishing. He just had to keep reminding himself that technically it was Jared's house and the mud would get cleaned up.
And it was way too attractive. The way he mamboed up to the house in shorts gone from black to dripping brown and muddy. Vancouver had halted the downpour just enough for the game, of course. Just enough so that mud connected the crinkles of Jared's goofy brown grin to the slop of muddy mess that stuck his bangs straight down nearly over his eyes.
Jensen was very tempted to hold out his hand and tell Jared to stop. He wanted to command Jared to strip right in the front yard, there was a reason they had privacy bushes, and wait for the hose down. No, that was not kinky. They actually had a hose. And the bonus is that Jared would both do it, even though it was cold water, and he would look amazing in the after-effect, running through the house like a wild and bear-naked six year old.
But he was already bounding up the steps with Jensen trailing behind. He was pumped, talking a mile a minute even though the bruise on his knee showed under the mud, thanking Misha for the props and Jensen for standing there while rain dripped into his disposable coffee cup from Tim Hortons. Pumping his fists victoriously, getting the dogs riled up and then making Jensen shout while trying to contain the dirty mess all in the kitchen. What could Jensen say? He liked things clean.
“Jared!”
“What?” Jared had looked back with those faraway glossy eyes. Oh fuck, he was in love with rugby. The goofy, tall Texan with all the grace of a bull elephant was in love with rugby. Jensen knew this was all going to become way too familiar in way too short a time.
“You are dripping mud on the floor I just cleaned a couple of days ago.”
Jared blinked and then Jensen winced as he savagely peeled the shirt from his body and it landed on the floor with a muddy thwack. “Dude, you sound like my mom after football practice.”
“Then perhaps she could talk some sense into you,” Jensen mumbled while trying to think of something clever to retort with.
“What was that Ackles?” Jared moved forward playfully and Jensen's eyes grew big as he realized that Jared didn't really care that he was actually the only member of the household still relatively more clean. Although, Harley and Sadie's cleanliness was looking pretty good right about now. “You saying I'm a dirty boy?”
“Dude, you're gross looking. Go take a shower.” Lie. Epic and total lie on Jensen's part.
Jared shook his head. “Nah-uh. You think I'm gorgeous and you wanna date me. Take me home and kiss me....”
Jensen tried to swat away the half-muddy mess but he was already backed up against the sink and his knee plowed into whatever mud was covering Jared's shorts. “Dude!”
Jared whispered low. “Fine, but you'll have to catch me first.”
He was off with a flash, Jensen trailing. “Padalecki, you're gonna clean up these floors! I swear to...”
Whatever Jensen was thinking would have to wait. His brain was malfunctioning just a bit with the sight of Jared in nothing but his stocking feet as he checked the water and warmed it up, water rinsing at least one of his hands clean.
“You have something to say, Ackles?”
“I...uh...you...yeah...”
Jared turned, his face still streaked and dried with caked mud. “That's what I thought. I have to thank you for letting me try this today.”
Trust me, you are thanking me, Jensen thought. “I'm just glad I can support you, bro.”
“That's good. Cause I'm gonna need someone to help me reach all the nooks and crannies. Its kind of like after we got back from the beach that one time...”
Jensen's eyes dilated as the room began to fill with shower steam and his mouth ran dry. He remembered the sand, that little bungalow where they couldn't even fry an egg on the tiny stove, the scent of clean soap and waves on Jared's body. The way he had growled so deep in the ear as Jensen's fingers had traveled....
“Earth to Ackles....am I showering alone?”
Jensen shook himself, then shook his head and stripped. Jared was magnificent. All those heaving breaths and all that dirt had obscured his half mast cock and the lines of his abs as they had gotten such a workout from all the sport. He was still slightly tan, but not in that freaky way that some people get before they go to Mexico. The mud in certain areas made him look so primal, so real. Any spit Jensen had left seemed to evaporate in his throat.
And it was just like after the surfing lessons. Jared's body pressed into his own, the bar of soap trapped under one of someone's armpit. The scent and the cascading suds, the way the water turned certain colors as Jensen moved his hands and swept across Jared. Jared was always so attentive after sports as well, as though he was more sensitive to Jensen being more sensitive to him. It was so fucking steamy.
It wasn't really kissing and fondling. It was more like shower wrestling. It was a place beyond urge and need, it was ramming your body into something so caring and joyful that nothing on earth was going to compete. It was the shining light, the utter contentment in Jared's groan as though he would never need to eat or breathe or even fuck again after this. It was the way he grabbed you in a kiss, pulled things from deep inside yourself as you moaned. Like there were pockets and layers of air in between your love and he was merging everything together into one half-muddy package.
Jared loved getting soaped up too, his head especially. He would move his back against your chest, stooping down into a half-laying position. His head would move in rhythm with your fingers, his hard cock swaying against his stomach. Sometimes Jared would hum so low and soft you would wonder if he was asleep until your hand would move down and he would thrust as you jacked his hard cock just to hear him whimper for release.
It was enough that Jensen had contemplated more than once just fucking him until neither could stand it, laid sprawling in the shower. Jared wasn't such a fan of being fucked even though he loved the intimacy, but he loved to see Jensen's reaction to being fucked and loved to feel Jensen's hands all over his own body.
“Your turn.” It was no surprise to Jensen when he heard Jared say this with such a wide grin on his face, those crinkles were threatening to crack.
Jensen turned with trust, only to find Jared exiting the shower quickly. Peeking his head out, Jensen squinted through foamy eyes. There was a box in Jared's hands that had four objects of different color, nearly clear when he opened it.
“Jared?”
Jared looked over the selection. “Birthday gift from Christian. Gotta say, I think it was more a gift for you.”
“Are those?”
Jared nodded, selecting one. “Pretty accurate, considering he's never actually seen me stripped down.”
Jensen was a bit taken aback. He could smell the eucalyptus emanating from the long, hard object in Jared's hands. Jensen had to agree from a point of jealousy that it was accurate. “How did he make your dick into a dildo?”
Jared shook his head. “Not just a dildo, its soap. And I have no idea. Necessity must be the mother of invention,” Jared concluded with a winking smile.
It sure felt like Jared. It made Jensen's entire body surge like Jared. It was that same pumping, loving enthusiasm. It was that same slow burn and groaning force right behind him, the same syrup in that same Texas voice. But it felt like soap and smelled like soap.
“Now I know you're even more ready for me. For that fucking big rugby star, right?”
“God yes.”
Jared spread himself against Jensen's body until he was nuzzling into his lover's ear. “Maybe I'll fuck myself while fucking you. What do you think? Think it'll be like masturbating?”
“What?” Jensen was getting a bit hard of hearing what with Jared's hard cock hovering over his already soaped hole.
“Let's find out.”
Jensen and Jared hissed as that old familiar test run came through. Jensen tried not to tighten as the length slowed inside. He sucked his breath in hard and finally felt that relief as Jared stopped for a moment.
“God Ackles, I feel so good. No wonder you fucking love me.”
Jensen breathed heavily, adjusting to the cock. “Yeah, Jar. You are my fucking best, baby.”
“Don't know how much I...oh...”
“Ride me hard, Jared. Ride me like that fucking ball, up and down that field baby. Get me clean, you dirty boy.”
Jared began to thrust maniacally, riding himself with his own cock while holding Jensen's shoulder with his free hand. “Love you Jensen. Fuck, man. Love you, need you, want you.”
Jensen threw his head back, almost bumping into Jared's body. “I'm gonna...”
Jared knew that he couldn't last after Jensen's natural squeeze. His thick load was going to squirt. He pulled out quick enough and Jensen reared, their bodies meshing. The touch was enough. Jensen exploding against the wall, Jared exploding on Jensen's back and falling down into him, the shaped soap falling down and slipping until it halted at the drain.
For a moment, no one breathed except through panting. Jensen straightened up first and turned, cocking his head and smirking. “We missed a spot.”