Fic: These Are The Moments I Know (All I Need Is This) (Jared/Jensen, R)
Title: These Are The Moments I Know (All I Need Is This)
Author: waterofthemoon
Rating: R
Pairing: Jared/Jensen (CW RPS)
Summary: Jensen likes touching Jared's belt. Sleepy, snuggly, schmoopy boys.
Word Count: 1,055
Disclaimer: Jared and Jensen belong to each other. I mean, themselves.
Notes: So first I gave in and got my very own Texas belt buckle, and then _doodle prompted me with belt!schmoop, and then this happened. It took a slightly different direction than I intended, but this is for her, anyway. ♥ Special thanks to unperfectwolf, who betaed for me and made me feel pretty. :) I'm also officially popping my solo J2 cherry with this fic. Go me?
These Are The Moments I Know (All I Need Is This)
It's a late night after filming, and they're lazily curled up together in Jared's hotel room, stretched out on the bed and watching some show Jared found on the History Channel. Jensen doesn't really know what it's about and doesn't care, not when he can feel the rise and fall of Jared's chest beneath his cheek as Jared absently moves a hand through Jensen's hair, working out residual gel stiffness and winding his fingers relentlessly in the short locks. Jensen's due for a haircut, but there hasn't been time. Tomorrow, he knows, Jeannie'll shake her head at the state of his tangled hair as she tames it back into Dean's carefully coiffed style, and Jared will hide a grin when Jensen pretends to scowl under her clucking tongue.
Jensen's hands are resting on Jared's stomach, plucking idly at his shirt, and when he flexes his fingers, he can feel Jared's sharp exhale and the warm ripple of his abs beneath thin cotton. They didn't bother to undress when they got to the room, just collapsed in a heap of limbs on the bed, so they're still in the clothes they left set in-jeans and faded t-shirts, minus the hoodie Jared shed in the hallway and tossed somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. He's still wearing his belt, though: an ancient leather one Jensen recognizes intimately, with that ridiculous Texas buckle, the one Jensen thinks he could probably map in his sleep, even before he and Jared had become he and Jared.
Jared drops his hand from Jensen's hair to splay heavy across his back, and Jensen snuggles closer into Jared's broad chest. He's warm and comfortable, and the hand that had been playing with Jared's shirt skims lower almost of its own accord, picking at loose threads at the hem, down until he touches smooth metal. His fingers trace out the shape of the longhorn, the T, the X. It's a simple touch, more drowsiness than design, but Jared's tracking the movement and squirming under him anyway.
"Yeah, Jen," Jared breathes. "Come on." He reaches his free hand down to cover Jensen's, force him lower, but Jensen bats him away and closes his eyes.
"'M sleeping," he mumbles into Jared's shirt.
His hand never stops moving over the buckle, running over the grooves and textures in random patterns. He likes the solid feel of it under his hand, the familiarity, the way it's almost a part of Jared. It comes with the territory, like the dogs and the overflowing personality and the wide, honest smile.
Jensen runs a finger around the edge of the seal at the bottom and moves in to touch the star in the middle, making Jared's breath hitch and his muscles tense. Jared's half-hard already, and Jensen considers taking advantage of the fact, but he's tired, and right now he doesn't want anything more than this. Never wants anything more than this, just him and Jared and some infomercial on the TV now about who even knows what, magic food processors or exercise equipment or something.
Jared shifts on the bed and flops his head back against the pillows. "You're killing me here, Jensen," he groans, an edge of exhausted frustration in his voice as he runs his hand up and down Jensen's back, coaxing and soothing at once. He doesn't dislodge Jensen's hand from his belt, though, and Jensen strokes over the armadillo, thinks about how he's never seen one outside of a cage or a picture in a book. He wonders dimly if Jared has.
"Ngh," he finally answers, unmoved by Jared's pleas. "You'll live." Jensen cracks his eyes open to see that Jared's fully hard now, straining against the denim. He feels for Jared, he really does, but they've just worked an eighteen hour day with another one waiting for them tomorrow, and sleep is the higher priority right now. "In the morning, Jay, c'mon. Just..."
He fumbles for the TV remote and thumbs the power button, then tugs Jared down so that they're flush along their sides and runs a hand through Jared's hair, presses a gentle kiss to his temple. Instead of settling, though, Jared shivers and sparks under Jensen's touch. "'M sorry, Jen," he drawls, quiet in Jensen's ear and not sounding very sorry. "'S your fault, anyway... been teasin' me, got me all worked up."
Jensen rolls his eyes, a soft smile creeping across his face. He's too sleepy to want to move, but he caves when he sees the desperation written in the tense lines of Jared's face. "C'mere," he says, and Jensen feels more than hears Jared's low groan of thank God when he sits up and reaches for Jared's belt again, this time with intent. He caresses the metal once, twice before deftly working the buckle open and tugging Jared's jeans and boxers off, followed by his shirt and Jensen's own clothes.
Jared's panting in the semi-darkness even though Jensen hasn't so much as touched him, ragged breaths that echo between them. Jensen leans in close and gentles him with a kiss, putting everything he feels into his hands on Jared's skin, into the easy slide of his mouth and tongue against Jared's. He rests two fingers on Jared's pulse point and waits until the pounding rhythm subsides, then spits into his palm and reaches down to take Jared in hand, stroke him slow and hard until Jared's quivering and broken beneath him, please and yes and Jensen prayers on his lips.
Jared suddenly chokes back a moan and arches up off the mattress, spilling over Jensen's hand and his own stomach. The peace shining in Jared's eyes afterwards has him blinking back emotion, and Jensen can't even remember when he got hard, but then Jared's touching him and he's losing his control all over the sheets. Jared holds him through it, then cleans them up with tissues from the nightstand. He nudges Jensen over to the other side of the bed, and Jensen melts when Jared pulls him in from behind, all sweet sticky satisfaction, wrapping his long arms around Jensen and sighing into the back of Jensen's neck.
They fall asleep like that, and when the alarm goes off too early in the morning, they're tangled together so close that Jensen can't remember which limbs are his.
Author: waterofthemoon
Rating: R
Pairing: Jared/Jensen (CW RPS)
Summary: Jensen likes touching Jared's belt. Sleepy, snuggly, schmoopy boys.
Word Count: 1,055
Disclaimer: Jared and Jensen belong to each other. I mean, themselves.
Notes: So first I gave in and got my very own Texas belt buckle, and then _doodle prompted me with belt!schmoop, and then this happened. It took a slightly different direction than I intended, but this is for her, anyway. ♥ Special thanks to unperfectwolf, who betaed for me and made me feel pretty. :) I'm also officially popping my solo J2 cherry with this fic. Go me?
These Are The Moments I Know (All I Need Is This)
It's a late night after filming, and they're lazily curled up together in Jared's hotel room, stretched out on the bed and watching some show Jared found on the History Channel. Jensen doesn't really know what it's about and doesn't care, not when he can feel the rise and fall of Jared's chest beneath his cheek as Jared absently moves a hand through Jensen's hair, working out residual gel stiffness and winding his fingers relentlessly in the short locks. Jensen's due for a haircut, but there hasn't been time. Tomorrow, he knows, Jeannie'll shake her head at the state of his tangled hair as she tames it back into Dean's carefully coiffed style, and Jared will hide a grin when Jensen pretends to scowl under her clucking tongue.
Jensen's hands are resting on Jared's stomach, plucking idly at his shirt, and when he flexes his fingers, he can feel Jared's sharp exhale and the warm ripple of his abs beneath thin cotton. They didn't bother to undress when they got to the room, just collapsed in a heap of limbs on the bed, so they're still in the clothes they left set in-jeans and faded t-shirts, minus the hoodie Jared shed in the hallway and tossed somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. He's still wearing his belt, though: an ancient leather one Jensen recognizes intimately, with that ridiculous Texas buckle, the one Jensen thinks he could probably map in his sleep, even before he and Jared had become he and Jared.
Jared drops his hand from Jensen's hair to splay heavy across his back, and Jensen snuggles closer into Jared's broad chest. He's warm and comfortable, and the hand that had been playing with Jared's shirt skims lower almost of its own accord, picking at loose threads at the hem, down until he touches smooth metal. His fingers trace out the shape of the longhorn, the T, the X. It's a simple touch, more drowsiness than design, but Jared's tracking the movement and squirming under him anyway.
"Yeah, Jen," Jared breathes. "Come on." He reaches his free hand down to cover Jensen's, force him lower, but Jensen bats him away and closes his eyes.
"'M sleeping," he mumbles into Jared's shirt.
His hand never stops moving over the buckle, running over the grooves and textures in random patterns. He likes the solid feel of it under his hand, the familiarity, the way it's almost a part of Jared. It comes with the territory, like the dogs and the overflowing personality and the wide, honest smile.
Jensen runs a finger around the edge of the seal at the bottom and moves in to touch the star in the middle, making Jared's breath hitch and his muscles tense. Jared's half-hard already, and Jensen considers taking advantage of the fact, but he's tired, and right now he doesn't want anything more than this. Never wants anything more than this, just him and Jared and some infomercial on the TV now about who even knows what, magic food processors or exercise equipment or something.
Jared shifts on the bed and flops his head back against the pillows. "You're killing me here, Jensen," he groans, an edge of exhausted frustration in his voice as he runs his hand up and down Jensen's back, coaxing and soothing at once. He doesn't dislodge Jensen's hand from his belt, though, and Jensen strokes over the armadillo, thinks about how he's never seen one outside of a cage or a picture in a book. He wonders dimly if Jared has.
"Ngh," he finally answers, unmoved by Jared's pleas. "You'll live." Jensen cracks his eyes open to see that Jared's fully hard now, straining against the denim. He feels for Jared, he really does, but they've just worked an eighteen hour day with another one waiting for them tomorrow, and sleep is the higher priority right now. "In the morning, Jay, c'mon. Just..."
He fumbles for the TV remote and thumbs the power button, then tugs Jared down so that they're flush along their sides and runs a hand through Jared's hair, presses a gentle kiss to his temple. Instead of settling, though, Jared shivers and sparks under Jensen's touch. "'M sorry, Jen," he drawls, quiet in Jensen's ear and not sounding very sorry. "'S your fault, anyway... been teasin' me, got me all worked up."
Jensen rolls his eyes, a soft smile creeping across his face. He's too sleepy to want to move, but he caves when he sees the desperation written in the tense lines of Jared's face. "C'mere," he says, and Jensen feels more than hears Jared's low groan of thank God when he sits up and reaches for Jared's belt again, this time with intent. He caresses the metal once, twice before deftly working the buckle open and tugging Jared's jeans and boxers off, followed by his shirt and Jensen's own clothes.
Jared's panting in the semi-darkness even though Jensen hasn't so much as touched him, ragged breaths that echo between them. Jensen leans in close and gentles him with a kiss, putting everything he feels into his hands on Jared's skin, into the easy slide of his mouth and tongue against Jared's. He rests two fingers on Jared's pulse point and waits until the pounding rhythm subsides, then spits into his palm and reaches down to take Jared in hand, stroke him slow and hard until Jared's quivering and broken beneath him, please and yes and Jensen prayers on his lips.
Jared suddenly chokes back a moan and arches up off the mattress, spilling over Jensen's hand and his own stomach. The peace shining in Jared's eyes afterwards has him blinking back emotion, and Jensen can't even remember when he got hard, but then Jared's touching him and he's losing his control all over the sheets. Jared holds him through it, then cleans them up with tissues from the nightstand. He nudges Jensen over to the other side of the bed, and Jensen melts when Jared pulls him in from behind, all sweet sticky satisfaction, wrapping his long arms around Jensen and sighing into the back of Jensen's neck.
They fall asleep like that, and when the alarm goes off too early in the morning, they're tangled together so close that Jensen can't remember which limbs are his.